“Schoolrooms? You don’t have public schooling?”

“We do, but not for those this far out. And anyone with enough children in the household can hire a tutor and have them schooled. It saves tax money for those who can’t afford private tutors. You met only the older children. There are fifty here altogether.”

Lunzie found the thought disturbing, another proof that the heavyworlder culture diverged from FSP pol-icy. She had known there was overcrowding and uncontrolled breeding. But Zebara had always seemed so civilized.

Now, as he took her arm to guide her up the steps from the firepit and across the echoing hall to a door, she felt she did not know him at all. He was wearing neither the ominous black uniform nor the workaday coverall she had seen on most of the citizens. A long loose robe, so dark she could not tell its color in the dimly lit passage, low boots embroidered with bright patterns along the sides. He looked as massive as ever, but also comfortable, completely at ease.

“In here,” he said at last, and ushered her into another, smaller, circular room. “This is my private study.”

Lunzie took the low, thickly cushioned seat he of-fared, and looked around. Curved shelving lined the

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