Babel-17

My 5 highlights

• ‘Do they have this word, I?’ ‘As a matter of fact they have three forms of it: I-below-a- temperature-of-six-degrees-centigrade, I-between-six-and-ninety-three-degrees-centigrade, and I-above-ninety-three.’ The Butcher looked confused. ‘It has to do with their reproductive process,’ Rydra explained. ‘When the temperature is below six degrees they’re sterile. They can only conceive when the temperature is between six and ninety-three, but to actually give birth, they have to be above ninety-three.’

• The platoon was a group of twelve who did all the mechanical jobs on the ship. Such simple work was done by the very young, so they usually needed a nursemaid: that was the Slug.

• Brass stretched, then dropped to all fours, a low rumble in his chest. He shook his mane, then his gold eyes widened in recognition. ‘Ca’tain Wong!’ The mouth, distended through cosmetisurgically implanted fangs, could not deal with a plosive labial unless it was voiced. ‘How you’d like me tonight?’

• The Baroness extended her plump hand, of a pink and gray hue suggesting something parboiled. Her puffy freckled shoulders heaved beneath the straps of an evening dress tasteful enough over her distended figure, still grotesque.

• Three men: The closest, at the ramp’s head, had a face like brown rock cut roughly and put together fast.