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Feb. 14th, 2009 10:10 pmBar Harbor Restaurant is built along the edge of a large lake in the Milian district. Seen from a distance, approaching by air, it's an elegant semicircular structure following the line of the shore; it does not look anything like big enough to seat as many people as an upscale restaurant should. This is due entirely to its unique outdoor seating arrangement.
Inside, it's all subdued lighting and polished wood and quiet music. Simon gives their names to the maître d', who with a practiced smile leads them to the seating deck where their table is ready. Once they're both seated there's a quiet whir of servos and a hum of a grav generator, and the little group of table and chairs begins to slide along the deck toward the restaurant's rear doors.
As it clears the door, the table begins to rise on a wide slow spiral to join the others: countless grav-field spheres hovering over the lake, glowing in subtle shades of amber and gold. Some are opaque, looking like Christmas-tree ornaments; some are completely transparent, looking like soap bubbles with tiny, gorgeously-dressed figures within. All of them are reflected on the surface of the lake, brilliant against the dark sky and water.
The overall effect is, not to put too fine a point on it, breathtaking.
Kaylee seems to appreciate the view a good deal more once Simon assures her that their own field is already set to opaque.
* * *
The waiter's station drifts off toward a different table, taking the empty entree plates and leaving the dessert menu. Their own table's gliding very low over the water now, and the golden glow of their reflection paces them.
Inside, it's all subdued lighting and polished wood and quiet music. Simon gives their names to the maître d', who with a practiced smile leads them to the seating deck where their table is ready. Once they're both seated there's a quiet whir of servos and a hum of a grav generator, and the little group of table and chairs begins to slide along the deck toward the restaurant's rear doors.
As it clears the door, the table begins to rise on a wide slow spiral to join the others: countless grav-field spheres hovering over the lake, glowing in subtle shades of amber and gold. Some are opaque, looking like Christmas-tree ornaments; some are completely transparent, looking like soap bubbles with tiny, gorgeously-dressed figures within. All of them are reflected on the surface of the lake, brilliant against the dark sky and water.
The overall effect is, not to put too fine a point on it, breathtaking.
Kaylee seems to appreciate the view a good deal more once Simon assures her that their own field is already set to opaque.
The waiter's station drifts off toward a different table, taking the empty entree plates and leaving the dessert menu. Their own table's gliding very low over the water now, and the golden glow of their reflection paces them.
