Chapter Fifteen

It doesn’t matter who or what you are, Ryo mused. Wherever home is, there is something about its smell that distinguishes it from any other world.

He inhaled deeply, his thorax expanding with a rush as he gazed around the little clearing. Off to his left, muldringia vine grew thick and close until the unscreened sunlight turned them pale and weak at the clearing’s edge. Tall grass wore a corona of bright little yellow flowers. Snuff bugs whizzed through the morning air. His antennae waved through the pollen recently dispersed by an overripe bombush. The heady aroma threatened to upset his balance on the ramp.

“My home.” He turned to the open lock and those standing there. “Is it not wonderful?”

Liquid was already materializing on Bonnie’s exposed skin. Bhadravati and several other friends crowded around her, testing the air.

“Very lush,” Bhadravati agreed. “But to us, very hot and terribly humid.”

“A mild second-season day,” Ryo noted. “I doubt the humidity is much more than 80 percent. With luck it will top a comfortable 90 by midday eve.”

“With luck,” Elvira Sanchez muttered gloomily as she leaned through the lock and gazed across the treetops. Her concern was for what might appear from the clouds.

“If we had been detected on approach,” a voice said from inside the ship, “search craft would be overflying this area by now.”

“I know. I’m just a natural worrier,” the captain called over a shoulder. Hands on hips, she turned to look past Ryo. “A good place to lose weight, anyway.”

Ryo made a gesture of puzzlement. “Why would you want to lose weight-and how?”

“Cosmetic reasons,” she replied. “When we move around in very hot weather, our bodies sweat water and we can lose weight.”

“Extraordinary.” Ryo shook his head to indicate amazement, a gesture he had picked up from the human physical vocabulary. “Being constrained by our exoskeletons we are considerably less flexible in such matters.”

“A world without obesity,” Bonnie murmured. “That would be enough to induce some humans to visit here.”

“But not enough of them.” Bhadravati squinted into the heat. “Hence our illegal visit.”

Highly illegal. The Secretary had provided covert assistance and laundered funds, but had made it quite clear that if the project was discovered he would denounce it as vociferously as anyone else in the government. Only tremendous pressure from members of the scientific community, incited by Rijseen and Bhadravati; had enabled the expedition to literally get off the ground at all.

Clattering and shouts sounded from below the ramp, where humans and their machines were wrestling with the contents of the shuttle’s hold.

“We should have the first portion of the shelter set up by the time you return,” Bonnie told Ryo. “Of course, if you’re not back within the prescribed time period-“

“I know. You’ll disappear, leaving me with quite a lot of explaining to do. Assuming I am given time to explain.”

“I thought you said your people were highly civilized about such matters.”

“Fear of the unknown, while exaggerated among Homo sapiens, is not completely unknown among the Thranx,” he responded. “It is such attitudes we are battling to overcome.”

“I hope you’re back in time.” She reached out to touch one of his antennae. “Don’t get yourself blown apart. You’re important. It’s not the Thranx we’re friends with, yet. It’s YOU.”

“I will endeavor most strenuously to preserve myself,” he assured her as he started down the ramp. Bonnie and the others followed to the bottom. There they turned to aid in the unloading and setting up.

Peering up at the shuttle he could see numerous faces pressed against the glass of the tiny ports. Some of the faces were smaller and less well defined than others. Soon, Matthew, he thought at the faces. Soon you’ll be able to come out and play. Soon I hope to have a new game for you and your friends.

Moving through the jungle on foot was slow and awkward, even though he remembered the area reasonably well. That was one of the principal reasons it had been selected. And he had made his way through far wilder and more hostile flora. Oh, so long ago!

Days passed. Anxiously he kept watch on the frond shrouded sky for signs of search craft. After a half-month had passed he was finally convinced the shuttle had set down unnoticed.

Before much oore time passed, Ryo found himself standing among the first row of tettoq trees. Across the orchard to his left should be the machine shop where broken field equipment was repaired. He’d emerged from the jungle slightly to the south of the Inmot holdings, but he still recognized the landscape. The jungle had not been pushed back that far since his hurried departure so long ago.

It was very hard to remain concealed in the trees at the jungle’s edge. He wanted more than anything to skitter shouting and yelling down the nearest entryway, but that was not to be, not this night and not for some time, if ever again.

He waited until sleeptime was well along and the stars were high up behind the cloud cover before leaving the shelter of the jungle. Somehow, as he made his cautious way through the carefully cultivated vegetation, he expected things to be more different then they were. In actuality he hadn’t been away that long. Mentally, he’d been absent for years.

There were no patrols to avoid, since there was nothing to patrol against. Twice he encountered premates or curious youngsters out for a nocturnal stroll. No one recognized him. That was fortunate, because only total darkness would have been sufficient to hide his movements completely.

It would be simpler if they were humans, he thought as he increased his pace after successfully slipping past the most recent pair. Humans were practically blind in weak light. They really are an amazing species, he mused. Consider what they have accomplished with poor vision, poor hearing, a weak sense of smell, no faz ability at all, and half the sensible number of limbs. Not to mention the burden of wearing their skeletons inside out. Quite remarkable.

He knew that a great deal was riding on his little nighttime stroll. He hurried on a little faster.

The machine shop had not been moved. No one was guarding the tools or heavy equipment parked outside. Theft was not unknown in the larger hives, but bulky material was quite safe in a community the size of Paszex because there was no place to steal it to.

Such trust did not extend to leaving the ignition controls activated, however. Foolishness was present among the irreverent in Paszex in proportion to the population. Ryo had a busy half-hour jimmying the controls of one harvester so it could be started with ease.

The machine was used to transport bulk loads from fields to processing chutes. With the familiarity of long practice he started the engine. The harvester slid smoothly forward on triple rows of balloon wheels.

There was an awkward moment when he parked the harvester outside the particular entryway he intended to use, for some night stroller might think to question the presence of the big machine so far from any agricultural station. No one appeared, however.

After altering the internal temperature of the harvester’s cargo bay to suit his intentions he slid from the control cab and entered the hive. Nothing unfamiliar assaulted his senses. Yet he didn’t feel quite as at home as he’d thought he would. Nothing was different, nothing had been changed. He’d spent most of his life in the very corridors he was now walking. Yet there was a difference, and he feared it was permanent.

Most of the citizenry were asleep, but some were still hard at work. The regular maintenance crews, for example, were preparing the corridors for the next workday. He had to exercise a little care.

He descended several levels, turned at a familiar corner, then into his destination. Workers were busier here than just about anywhere else in Paszex. That was no surprise. He knew it would be so, but he could not avoid it.

“Good evening, sir,” the monitor said.

“Good evening.”

“It’s very late, sir.”

“I know, but I had difficulty sleeping and thought I would admire our new cagin.” Thranx did not have nieces and nephews. A new birth was relative to all in his clan. The relationship was sufficiently general that Ryo believed he could gain admittance merely by claiming it. Every clan had a new cagin or two in the Nursery.

The monitor did not question him. “Very well, but be quiet. They are all sleeping soundly.”

“I know. I will be.”

He entered the Nursery proper. The long rows of curved study saddles lay in two orderly rows against the glazed walls. Partitions formed individual cubicles. About three fourths of the saddles were occupied by larvae in various stages of maturation.

How many years ago had he lain in one such saddle? he thought. Immobile, thirsting for knowledge and food, whiting away the days in idle study with his Nurserymates while anticipating metamorphosis.

Now he was in the Nursery again, with a different purpose. A glance from the doorway showed only three Nurses present. Even that seemed cause for concern. They moved busily about their tasks.

None of them disturbed him or thought to question his presence as he made his way casually down the central aisle. The saddle designs had not been altered in his lifetime. All were portable, each equipped with a tiny motor enabling it to be easily moved should an occupant require a shift to surgery or another department.

He pretended to gaze admiringly at an infant near the end of the aisle. The emergency exit should be nearby. These were not simple holdovers from ancient times when every Thranx Nursery possessed them, but served as important escape routes in case of fire.

The exit should lead to a ramp at the outskirts of the hive. One who used such a passageway for nonemergency purpose was subject to substantial penalties, but then, so was a kidnaper. The confluence of crimes and antisocial behavior in general among human and Thranx is one of our less obvious similarities, he mused.

The larvae he chose were neither newborns nor those on the verge of metamorphosis. All were approximately at midlarval stage.

His patience was rewarded when not one but two of the Nurses working up the aisle made their way out of the Nursery. When they did not return he quietly started work. Two, three, five of the saddles were linked by couplers. All could now be steered by a single Nurse. or anyone else. A glance up the aisle showed that the last attendant had disappeared. The cubicle partitions concealed him reasonably well and. would do so until he had to move his little train out into the open for the short dash to the emergency exitway. He would be quite satisfied if he could slip them through without being noticed. He did not have time to worry about how long he would have until they were missed.

He was linking the sixth and final saddle to the others when a shockingly familiar scent reached his antennae. They jerked backward in reaction. The scent was followed by a querulous and equally familiar voice.

“Ryo?” He turned. It was Fal.

She wore her uniform vest and neck pouch and was staring at him. How much she’d observed he didn’t know, not that it mattered now. She raised all four hands and gestured at the little line of linked saddles. Their motors whispered, their occupants slept on, oblivious.

“Where did you come from and what do you think you’re doing?”

Ryo discovered that he was breathing in quick, short gasps. His gaze went past her to the Nursery entrance. The other two Nurses still hadn’t returned but he daren’t count on their absence much longer.

“I haven’t time to explain,” he told her. “You must help me get these children out of the Nursery and up to the surface. Everything depends on speed now.”

She took a step away from him. “I don’t understand you. You told me you were involved in some kind of government project. Then that same agency told us you’d turned criminal.” She made a gesture of considerable confusion and uncertainty. “I don’t know who or what to believe anymore.”

“Everything you were told is true, in its fashion,” he said, unfailingly honest. “To a point. I was working on a government project and I am now something of a lawbreaker. Probably worse than that, according to some. In the opinion of others, I am doubtless regarded as a grand hero. Actually, I’m neither. I’m just me, doing what I think necessary. You can make your own decision, Fal. But I don’t have time to explain things. Not now.”

He touched a control and the line of saddles moved toward the emergency corridor. She hurried around to block the lead saddle.

“I don’t know where you’ve been, Ryo, or why you haven’t been in touch with me or what you’ve been doing. I don’t much care. I do care to see you again. It’s good, I think, in spite of what you did. We have many things to talk about. In the meantime and for whatever personal reasons of yours, these larvae are going nowhere. This is the Nursery. This is where they belong and this is where they remain. Unless you can explain what you’re doing, which I sincerely doubt.”

“I doubt it myself,” he told her, stepping close. “It’s more complicated than you can imagine. I love you, Fal. You are a wonderful, intelligent, insightful, enjoyable female and my opinion of you will never change regardless of what you come to think of me and I hope you will excuse this,” and he brought clown two fists with what he fervently hoped was carefully gauged strength between her antennae.

She did not even have time to gasp. Her arms went out in a gesture of shock and she collapsed to the floor. He bent quickly over her. A glance up the aisle showed a still empty Nursery. His luck continued.

Her thorax pulsed slowly but steadily as he lifted her onto an empty saddle and linked it to the other six. She would be unconscious for a long time while her body healed the cerebral bruise.

The kidnaping would confront the Hive Council with a great mystery. It would be natural for them to concentrate on Fal’s background in the hunt for motives. With luck they might never make the connection between a cluster of missing larvae and a long-absent mental defective named Ryozenzuzex. If the humans had done their part and thoroughly camouflaged their shuttle and the new structures, they might have a great deal of time before the alarm was raised and anyone thought to do some studious deduction.

With less luck and preparation he might be very dead in a day or two, along with the six innocent larvae, Fal, and all his human friends. He preferred not to think about that. In any case, now was not the time.

He met no one in the emergency corridor. No one challenged him when he emerged on the surface with his unlikely cargo. in tow.

Getting the seven saddles and their occupants into the harvester was difficult work even with the aid of the machine’s autoloading apparatus. Still he was not interrupted. When the last saddle had been positioned and locked in place inside the climate-controlled hold he mounted the cab and gunned the engine. The harvester rumbled off down the nearest access path.

He was careful to stay on the designated roads, even though it cost him some time. The last thing he wanted was to leave a clear track behind him. Soon he was in among the jungle trees, however, and he had to program the harvesting equipment to carefully replace the vegetation the machine bashed through. In a few hours the sun would be up and a preliminary search of Paszex and its immediate environs would be under way.

Confusion would be his most effective shield. They would inspect the immediate belt of jungle surrounding the hive fields, but since there was no reason for the missing Nurse to take her charges farther afield he didn’t think .a deep hunt would commence for several days. By that time he would be well beyond any sensible search pattern.

He’d entered the missing harvester into the machineshop program as off-line, on its way to Zirenba for extensive overhaul. Months would pass before anyone thought to check on its status.

Fal presented a more substantial problem. He did not think she would remain calm at the sight of his horrific human companions. If she awoke it might be best to keep her sedated. He would worry about that later. If the project failed her opinion of him would not matter. If by some chance it succeeded-well, he would worry about their relationship at that time only.

When the sun rose, so would his young charges. Ryo had spent time in the Nursery only as an occupant. Very shortly he would have to deal with six confused, unhappy, and hungry youngsters. He didn’t know exactly how he was going to cope with that, although the past month had taught him something of handling youngsters and their needs. If he could manage infants of another species, surely he could deal with those of his own kind.

He managed to do so. The presence of the “sleeping” Nurse, whom they all recognized, helped to calm them. When she didn’t wake up there might be new problems, but Ryo was grateful for the respite.

The harvester continued to perform admirably, sloshing its way through the rain forest while automatically covering its own tracks. To assist it he tried to choose paths that were particularly watery, but he was positive he must be leaving a trail behind him wide enough for a dozen Servitors to scan.

His only confrontation, however, came not from an angry cluster of Servitors or any of the jungle’s omnipresent carnivores, but from several armed humans who materialized magically from among the trees and surrounded the harvester. It was interesting to note that they had shed the majority of their clothing.

Greetings were exchanged and weapons lowered. A couple of the humans gazed dumbly back into the jungle along the path restored by the harvester. They could not believe Ryo had brought off the most difficult part of the experiment.

“You’re sure no one’s following you?” a beefy male asked. His body fur was black and full of tight curls.

“It proceeded with admirable smoothness,” Ryo said. He was glad no one challenged him. He was not ready to explain about Fal. That incident was still painful to recall.

They escorted him to the glade. As the harvester emerged from the trees Ryo had to struggle before locating the exquisitely hidden shuttle. It seemed to have sprouted grass, bushes, and yellow flowers.

Other hills marked the sites of the portable buildings the expedition had brought with them. There would be the section for housing his six immobile charges, there one for their human counterparts. Most of the adults would bivouac aboard the shuttle.

Since shuttle and structures were nearly invisible from the ground, Ryo had no doubt that from the air the illusion would be complete. In addition to confusing any visual search, the humans also possessed sophisticated instruments for harmlessly dispersing heat and restricting sound. They would have privacy and time. That was more than he’d hoped for.

A violent squalling in the form of a rising and falling whistle sounded from the rear of the harvester. Ryo brought it to a halt. Several other humans had joined the intercepting forest guards and were peering into the cargo hold.

Ryo nearly broke a leg as he rushed to get there. In the excitement of the moment the humans had not considered the effect their appearance might have on his intelligent and impressionable passengers.

He had not intended that the children confront their nightmares so soon.

Matthew remembered the first times.

He wasn’t sure why he’d been chosen, but he was glad that he had been. The world they were visiting was a neat place, full of brightly colored bugs and flying things, and interesting creepy-crawlies to poke sticks at through the clear surfaces of shallow ponds.

He didn’t have much time to do that, since they kept him and the others playing with the funny-shaped kids. They were nice, so he didn’t mind not being allowed outside so much.

Bonnie and the big bug, Ryo, had told him that his new friends were children just like him, only of Ryo’s people. But they didn’t look anything like little Ryos at all. In fact, when Matthew first saw them his initial reaction and that of his friends had been one of pity. They had no arms or legs. How could anyone play without arms or legs?

They had huge wormlike bodies. That was kind of icky at first, but they also had pale colors running just under their skins that were awful pretty. It was funny to see these colors change from green to blue, from red to yellow and back again. Matthew wished he could change color like that.

They smelled real nice, too. Like a field of cut grass, or the hem of his mother’s dress, or the laundry when it was new. The grown-ups were afraid at first that he and his friends would be frightened of the larvae, as they called them. That was silly. How could anyone be afraid of some one who smelled so nice and didn’t have arms to hit you with or legs to kick you with? The larvae, like his best friend Moul, were a lot more afraid of Matthew and the other human children than the human children were of them.

On the ship he’d learned to recognize a lot of the funny whistlewords and click-talk. That was good, because the Thranx kids didn’t know any real speech at all. Matthew was the best of the bunch and he was proud when the other kids asked him to translate. As the weeks went by, however, both groups learned from their counterparts. Because the larvae had flexible mandibles, it turned out they could talk human even better than Ryo.

This seemed to surprise the grown-ups as much as it pleased them. Matthew shook his head. Some grown-ups were just plain dumb. After all, a stick is a stick whether you call it a stick or a whistleword.

It surprised him to learn that Moul and the other larvae felt sorry for him. Sure, Moul didn’t have arms and legs, but he didn’t run into things, either, or stick himself with thorns. That embarrassed Matthew and made him a little bit angry. Sometimes he thought of hitting Moul to show him what hands were good for.

But no matter what he said or how he said it, neither Moul nor his companions ever seemed to get mad. Pouty sometimes, but never mad. You couldn’t go around hitting someone like that. And when Moul explained things to him, Matthew lost a lot of his own mads, too. It was funny the things grown-ups got excited about.

Matthew had lots of friends back in school on Earth. A couple of them had also qualified for the trip. One was a bigger boy named Werner, and Matthew couldn’t understand how he’d made it. He’d beaten Matthew up a couple of times.

Moul was sorry to hear that when Matthew told him about it.

“I betcha Werner wouldn’t try and beat you up,” he told Moul one day as they were sitting in what the grown-ups called the Interaction Room. “You’re too big.”

“For now,” Moul agreed, “but as he matures he’ll outgrow me, and after metamorphosis I’ll be slightly smaller than I am now.”

“That’s weird,” Matthew said. “Getting smaller as you become a grown-up. But getting a whole new body; that sounds neat. I wish I could metamorphose.” He added another magnetic span to the building he and Moul were designing. It was a curved one this time. Moul might not have any hands, but his suggestions were swell.

“Anyway,” Moul wondered aloud, “if Werner is bigger and stronger than you, then why does he feel the need to beat you up? If he’s bigger he ought to be smarter and realize how counterproductive such antisocial activity is.”

“Yeah, well,” Matthew muttered, “just once I’d like to pop him back a good one.” He brought one fist into an open palm to produce a smacking sound.

“But why, would you want to do that?” the studious Moul asked.

“To get even with him.” Sometimes even Moul could say the dumbest things.

“For what?”

“For beating me up.” Matthew put his hands on his hips and then made the Thranx sign for mild exasperation. “Boy, you’re awfully smart most of the time, Moul; but now and then you’re awful stupid, too.”

“I’m sorry,” the larva replied. “I’m just ignorant of your ways. It all seems so silly to me. Wouldn’t it be better for the two of you to be friends?”

“Well, sure it would, I guess,” Matthew reluctantly admitted, “but Werner is a bully. He likes to beat people up.”

“Larvae who are smarter than he?”

“Well,” the boy thought a moment, “yeah, I think so.”

“That’s what a `bully’ is-someone who beats up someone physically weaker than himself?”

“That’s right, I guess.” Actually Matthew hadn’t given the subject much consideration. To him, a bully was someone who beat Matthew Bonner up. The definition need extend no further than that.

“Then he doesn’t seem very big to me at all. It sounds to me like he has a very small mind.”

“Yeah, I guess he must. Yes, that’s it.” Matthew smiled hugely. “A small mind. A small mind.” He burst into delighted laughter at having discovered a gratifying corollary. At the same time he picked up another span.

“No, not a curved one this time,” Moul advised him. “A double-straight. It will give more support to the tower there.”

Matthew studied the growing monument only briefly. Moul was rarely wrong. “I think you’re right.” He set the span in place, watched as it annealed to the nearby side panels. The structure was over a meter high and still growing. The two youngsters had been working on it off and on for several days. The adults found it most interesting.

He selected a ridge ellipsoid, moved to emplace it.

“Also on the top, don’t you think?” Moul asked.

This time Matthew objected, holding it over the windowpanes two-thirds of the way up the left-hand tower. “Don’t you think it would look better here?”

“Look better.” Moul considered. He envied his friend’s ability to see in colors more than he envied him his limbs. “Yes. Yes, I think you are right, Mattheeew. That is a most intriguing composition.”

“We can use two of them.” The boy chose a second, matching ellipsoid. “One here and one up top, where you suggested.”

“An excellent suggestion, Mattheeew. Then I really think we’d better start working on the other side again or we’ll overbalance the towers.”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Then he frowned and set the two units back in their box.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m bored,” Matthew announced, sighing deeply. “I wish they’d let us go outside by ourselves. I get tired of having grown-ups around.”

“I don’t,” said Moul. “In any case, you know I couldn’t go out with you.”

“Why not? Oh yeah, your skin would burn.”

“During the day it would,” the larva admitted mournfully. “Anyway, I think the adults don’t want us to go outside much.”

“They sure don’t. I wonder why.”

“I’m not sure,” Moul said thoughtfully. “I respect adults, of course, but sometimes it seems to me they are capable of mistakes as obvious as our own.”

“Yeah, they’re not as smart as they think. I bet I could get you outside at night.” His voice fell to a conspiratorial whisper. “We could fool ‘em. Your skin wouldn’t burn at night.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Moul agreed. “I can’t get around by myself very well, though.”

“Aw, we’d figure something out. I’d help you.”

“And I’d help you. I can see almost as well at night as I can during the day,” the larva told him. “I was informed that you cannot.”

“You can see in the dark?” Matthew’s eyes went wide.

“Quite well. Not as well as my ancestors, but well enough.”

“Wow.” Matthew could not conceal his awe. “I sure wish I could. Sometimes back home I wake up at night and can’t find the light panels in the floor and bump around in the dark trying to find the bathroom.”

“Bathroom?” Moul echoed, and the conversation shifted easily from the aesthetics of architecture and plans for nocturnal excursions to another tack altogether.

Weeks passed. The adults were delighted at the children’s progress, much of which originated with the experimental subjects themselves.

“Want to play Cowboys and Indians?” Matthew asked his friend. It was raining hard outside the Interaction Room. There could be no thought of venturing outside, even by oneself.

“I don’t know,” Moul said curiously. “What’s `Cowboys and Indians?’ ”

“Well, once upon a time on Earth there was a noble, intelligent, handsome, and just generally sort of neat people called Indians.” Matthew enjoyed being the one to explain for a change. He didn’t for a moment doubt that Moul was smarter than he was, but somehow the usual resentment he felt toward smarter kids didn’t apply to the larva. After all, Moul had received a lot more education and was perhaps a Terran year older than he.

“Anyway, their lands were invaded one day by a bunch of people called the Cowboys. The Cowboys were real nasty. They burned and slaughtered and stole and lied and all kinds of bad things until finally there were only a few Indians left. Eventually, though, the Indians got even because times changed and the life force that kept the Cowboys going faded away from their economy and they all died out. But the Indians kept their traditions and beliefs and lived happily ever after in the end.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very nice story,” murmured Moul doubtfully, “despite the happy ending. I’m not sure I want to play … but if you really want to …

“Yeah, sure.” Matthew climbed to his feet.

Moul rippled back from the human. “It sounds awfully violent, Matthew. I don’t like violent games.”

“It won’t be bad,” the boy assured him. “Now, I’m going to be the Indians and you can be the Cowboys.”

Moul considered. “I think I’d prefer to be the Indians.”

“No. I suggested the game,” Matthew was a mite belligerent, “and I’m going to be the Indians.”

“All right. You can be the Indians.”

Matthew frowned at him. “What do you mean, I can be the Indians? Just like that?”

“Well, of course. Why not?”

“But you said you wanted to be the Indians.”

“I do,” Moul admitted, “but you obviously want to be them more than I do. Therefore, it is only sensible to let you be the Indians.”

Matthew mulled over this development, which tumbled around in his brain like a rough gem in a polishing unit. “No,” he finally decided, “you can be the Indians.”

“No, no. I understand thoroughly your desire, Mattheeew. You can be the Indians. I’ll be the Cowboys.”

“I’ve got an idea,” the boy said suddenly. “Why don’t we both of us be the Indians?”

“Then who’ll be the Cowboys?”

Matthew turned and called across the room. “Hey Janie, Ahling, Chuck, Yerl!”

They entered into involved negotiations, but it developed that no one really wanted to be the Cowboys. They all wanted to be Indians.

In the observation booth behind the one-way, Dr. Jahan Bhadravati turned to his companions, who at that moment included Bonnie, Captain Sanchez of the Seeker, and a leading representative of Earth’s government. Handshakes were exchanged all around, but the children in the room beyond would have found the adults’ enthusiasm at a display of the commonplace very puzzling.