Anne McCaffrey - PTB 3 Power Play

1

Yanaba Maddock and Sean Shongili held hands in a darkness illuminated only by the glowing eyes of hundreds of animals and the flames of hundreds of candles. The drumming had stopped now, replaced by the sweet slapping of sliding water, the beat of many hearts, and the breathing of many creatures. One pulse was louder than all the drums had been, one breath a wind that guttered and flared the candles with each respiration.

"So how do we do it here?" Yana whispered nervously to the father of her unborn child. "Does the planet give me away or what?"

Sean smiled and winked. "No one has that right but you, love. Let's just say that the planet acts as witness and honorary best being."

"... best being..." an echo sang from the cavern walls. "... best being..."

He stopped walking and she stopped beside him. All she knew was that they were getting married, Petaybean-style.

She'd been so busy with her new duties as Petaybee's administrator over the last two months that she hadn't had enough time to inquire as fully as she would have liked into the rituals or folkways of the Petaybean marriage ceremony before it was upon her. Sean's niece, Bunny Rourke, one of her chief informants on matters Petaybean, had told her that it was a special sort of latchkay with a night chant at the hot springs. Yana had attended the breakup latchkay when she first arrived. This occasion differed in that the night chant was at the beginning of the latchkay instead of at the end. As at all latchkays, there would be much singing; however, there would probably be more at this particular one. Sean and Yana were each to prepare a song for the other. Songs were how Petaybeans celebrated or commemorated all their most noteworthy experiences. The mode was mostly either a rhyme scheme to some ancient Irish air, or a free-verse poem, chanted Inuit-style to the accompaniment of a drum. Yana, whose heart was full but whose mind was too crowded with administrative details while her body was having to make physical accommodations to her pregnancy, had finally created her song. Other than that, she simply hoped that things would go well and allowed herself to be led through the proceedings by the people she had trusted with her life more than once.

Two hours earlier, Kilcoole's premier couturier, Aisling Senungatuk, had arrived with the gown she had created for Yana-rabbit hides crocheted together with woolen yarn in a long, paneled design with a flared skirt, scooped neck, and long sleeves. The crocheted lace inserts were heavily decorated with beads made from scavenged wire and the little pebbles found in certain Petaybean streams. Tumbled, polished, and drilled, the stones were lovely and translucent. The gown was yellow, the Petaybean wedding color, Aisling explained, "because most of the plants make yellow dye." The rabbits were contributed from the collecting places of all of the hunters in the village. Sean's vest was a darker shade of the yellow, trimmed with beaver fur and blue and white beads.

Now the light motes formed a circle around the two, and Clodagh Senungatuk, Aisling's sister and the village's healer, stepped into the center with Sean and Yana. Yana noted with some amusement that as many of Clodagh's orange-striped cats as could crowd around her feet did so, their eyes eerie and iridescent in the candle glow.

"Sean Shongili and Yanaba Maddock, we've come here because we understand you got somethin' to say to all of your friends and kin here where the planet hears you best, is that right?"

"It is," Sean said. "I have a song to sing for you all."

"Sing for us," soft voices said from the shadows, accompanied by an underlying rumble of throaty feline purrs, the whicker of the curly-coats, and the affirmative yips of the dogs.

"Sing," the echo said.

Yana had no idea how many bodies were clustered into the cave that day. The line seemed to stretch clear back to the village and included every man, woman, and child, horse, cat, and larger track-cats, and even everybody's dog teams. And she could have sworn that she saw wild game emerge from the brush and join in the procession just before Clodagh led them into the darkness of the cave behind the hot-springs waterfall.

Sean cleared his throat. The candle flame shadowed the chiseled planes of his face and softened the outlines of his mouth as he began to chant.

"Yanaba, she met the enemy

Coming to us, she met friends as well

And honored them.

She met me, and I met love.

Aijija

With her friends, here around her

With her lover, I who take her hand

For these people and this world embracing us

She met the enemy again and again

It is in her name to do so.

Aijija

Yanaba, who knows my aspects

Yanaba, who has my heart

Yanaba, who honors my world and my people

Yanaba, who carries our future in her body

Yanaba, you are already part of my life

Yanaba, you already possess my heart

I tell you this here, with our world as witness

I want you with me forever.

Aiji."

Yana's mouth went suddenly dry. Something soft and furry rubbed against her bare ankles. Her stomach gave a heave and she wondered if the baby could be moving so soon, pushing her to speak. She took Sean's hands as much for support as encouragement and clung to them so tightly that she was afraid she'd leave bruises. But he returned the strong grip, and that gave her the courage she needed. Suddenly light-headed, she felt as if she needed to hold on to him to keep from floating to the top of the cave.

"Sean Shongili, my truest friend and love. Here I am, a woman whose only song Was of war and death. How can I sing what I feel for you?

You gave me life when I was dying

A home when I had known none in

Many years of wandering

A family when all of mine is dead

A life to bear

Mien I thought I could give onfy death

You showed me a new world and

Invited me to make it my own.

And I do.

In old songs by better singers

They say, "You are all the world to me.'

I say so too.

Sean Shongili, you are all the world to me

And the world to me is you.

I love you. Take me as I take you.

As they used to say on earth, 7 do.' "

Sean took her in his arms then and kissed her, letting his body rest against her belly, which, although still not too obvious, was growing fuller and rounder by the day.

Then Clodagh clapped her hands and everyone dispersed, leaving Yana and Sean alone in the cave, but not in darkness. As the candles departed, a warm soft glow pulsed throughout the cavern, and he eased her to the rock, which seemed to melt into a comfortable bed as she and Sean made love. They always enjoyed that occupation, but here, now, in the cave, where the planet was also part of their communion, she felt as if she had never before been so consumed by the passion that always fired up between them in the act of love. Sean felt it, too, for his hands were tender, possessive in a fashion she would once have resented, exciting in ways she had never experienced. The climax was so extraordinary that she wept and knew, from the wetness of the cheek he pressed hard against hers, that he also had been rocked by the intensity of their consummation. For a moment, she thought she had died.

This time they did not sleep afterward; nor did they dress before leaving the cave to join the throng waiting outside at the thermal pools.

Cheers and laughter greeted them. Overhead the stars and moons, real and man-made, lit the sky, while the candles planted along the sides of the pool garlanded it with ribbons of light. The big cats sported rather clumsily in the water while the dogs fetched various things thrown by

their masters. The smaller cats sat disdainfully on the edge of the pool. Yana laughed when one of the curly-coats took a running jump and dived into the pool, making a whale-sized wave that swamped the shore and wet several disgusted felines, who began furiously to lick themselves dry.

Then Sean pushed her in and, a moment later, a seal appeared among the splashing, laughing, naked company. This activity continued till daylight and was the merriest, raunchiest festivity she had ever attended. Periodically, someone would hoist himself out of the water and run bare-assed to the baskets beyond the candles to fetch something to cram into his mouth before diving back into the pool.

At daylight, everyone went ashore, dressed, and walked limply home except Sean and Yana, who rode double on one of the curlies, following Bunny and the village girls, who strewed flower petals and seeds on the path before them.

"I'm starving," Yana muttered up into Sean's chin.

He nuzzled the top of her head. "Good, you'll like this part then. The feast was prepared before we left. But don't eat so much you'll be too full to dance with me afterward."

"Dance? You have to be joking! My legs feel like noodles. Umm, noodles. Do you suppose Clodagh made hers? The ones with the smoked fish and dried tomato sauce?"

"I have it on good authority that she did. Is all you think of your stomach?"

"I'm eating for two!"

"So you are. Forgive me," he said, lifting her down from the curly-coat's back.

During the feasting, she had an ample chance to rest and gaze into Sean's eyes and messily feed him and be fed by him, also part of the wedding protocol. The food was arrayed in the middle of the meeting house, and Sean and Yana and the other adults sat on benches along the wall, while Bunny led the youngsters of Kilcoole in offering them food.

Meanwhile, everyone occupied themselves by singing the songs they had written for Sean and Yana. Bunny sang of her first meeting with Yana and their wild ride down the river. Sean's sister, Sinead, told how she knew Yana would be one of them from the time she went on her first hunt. Adak sang of the hiding of Sean in the snocle shed with Yana, making frequent clandestine trips which the Powers That Be did not know anything about.

Even Steve Margolies, now residing in Kilcoole with his partner, Frank Metaxos, and Frank's son Diego, sang of how Yana and Sean had reunited him with his family.

Yana's neighbor across the street had a hilarious pantomime song about Yana throwing Colonel Giancarlo out of her cabin with the burned fish. That was one of the few songs rhymed and sung to an old Irish air instead of chanted to drums. Clodagh said she believed the tune went originally to a song called "The Charladies' Ball."

As the other young people began to clear away the empty serving plates, Diego took his newly crafted guitar and joined the drummers, Old Man Mulligan on his whistle, and Mary Yulikilik on her handmade concertina. All together, they wheezed up a quite respectable dance tune.

Sean took Yana's hands in his, led her out on the floor, and then swung himself opposite her at the top of the cleared hall. Two by two, the others followed: Dr. Whittaker Fiske, who had returned especially to dance at the wedding, partnered Clodagh, followed by Sinead with Aisling, Moira and Seamus, Bunny and her sister 'Cita, Frank Metaxos and Steve Mar-golies; Liam Maloney and Bunny's cousin Nula completed the reel line. Captain Johnny Greene, who had extended his shore leave for the occasion, had Captain Neva Marie Rhys-Hall from SpaceBase as his partner for the dance in another reel line, while his fellow copter pilot, Rick O'Shay, gallantly led old Kitty Intiak onto the floor. Orange cats tiptoed daintily to the food that had been put on the side for them, while the dogs went home to their kennels to eagerly await scraps from the feast. Track-cats lounged by the doors and on top of the roof, and the curlies grazed in the last of the green fields left by the unusually long, warm summer, now turning to fall.

Somewhere in the middle of the third dance, Terce, who was minding the snocle shed, came in and tapped Adak on the shoulder; Adak, in turn, tapped Johnny on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear. The men left, accompanied by Captain Rhys-Hall, and returned in time to rescue Yana from a fifth dance. Marmion de Revers Algemeine and two company corpsmen in dress-white uniforms were with them.

Yana and Sean stopped dancing to greet their friends. Marmion was elegant as usual, in a royal blue tunic with a purple underdress, the top heavily embroidered in jade and silver, matching her earrings and rings.

"Marmie! How wonderful that you could come!" Yana cried. Marmion kissed both her cheeks, then Sean's.

"Yes, and in addition to your wedding present, I'm afraid I've come to take you away from all this. The CIS court is reconvening a week from now and your testimony will be necessary to augment Commissioner

Phon Tho Anaciliact's decision on Petaybee. I thought you'd want to do it yourself, since going off-planet would be lethal to native Petaybeans." She glanced down briefly at Yana's middle and a look of consternation flowed over her classic features. "Oh, my. Time flies, doesn't it?"

Yana smiled. "It does indeed. But I see no reason..."

"I don't think it's wise for you to go off-planet this far into your pregnancy, Yana," Sean said, his hand on her shoulder tightening protectively.

But others in the room had joined them by now. Clodagh and Whit Fiske greeted Marmie with busses on the cheeks, and Bunny pushed her way through to them, trailed closely by Diego, who had stopped playing and slung his guitar across his back as soon as he saw the newcomers arrive.

"How long does she need to be gone, Marmie?" Clodagh asked.

"Not long, I should think. Counting the journey, two weeks your time, three at the most."

"Huh," Clodagh said. "I'd never last that long. Sean, neither."

"I mean to be there, too, Yana," Marmion said, "though as an Intergal board member, my testimony is assumed to be biased and self-serving in one of those peculiarly bureaucratic fashions that people can't really explain anyhow. It's too bad there's no qualified native Petaybean to testify."

"I qualify, and I think I could go, too," Bunny said, pulling at her sleeve. "I'm young enough to go off-planet without any ill effects, and I know everything that's happened. I could sing them the song I made about it. Though Diego's songs are better."

"If you're going, I'm going," Diego said. "Now's my chance to show you all those technical things you keep telling me couldn't possibly work! Besides, I wouldn't want your head getting turned by all those guys in uniform. And I could see my mom," he added with a glance at Marmion, as if the more conventional reason might sway her where his desire to be with Bunny might not.

"Still, we need Colonel Maddock-or is it Shongili now?" Marmie asked with a twinkle.

"I think for courtroom purposes I'd better remain Maddock for the time being," Yana said.

"Yana, you're four months pregnant," Sean said. "With my child." The emphasis, Yana knew, was not merely possessive. Because of Sean's dual nature as man and seal, he was concerned about just how many of his traits his children would inherit and how deeply an off-planet experience would affect them.

"Many women are on duty right up until delivery now, Sean," she said, dropping her hand to his arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "And you heard Marmie, it will only be three weeks. If I have Bunny along-"

Clodagh touched Sean's hand. "It should be okay that long, Sean. And Petaybee needs her to do this."

"I suppose so. I only wish I could accompany her."

"I'd take good care of her, Uncle Sean. You know I would," Bunny said, throwing her arms around his waist.

"And I'd take care of both of them, Dr. Shongili," Diego said, with a challenging look at Marmion.

Marmion smiled at him, then turned back to Yana. "With you as adult guardian, I see no problem with Bunny and Diego accompanying you, Yana. In fact, I'm sure the CIS Anaciliact would appreciate all the support he can get. I don't suppose little 'Cita..."

But Sean denied that choice with a firm shake of his head. "After all she's been through, she's much too fragile in my opinion. 'Cita stays here. Besides, Coaxtl frets herself into molting mountains of hair if the girl is out of sight for any extended period."

"I can tell what needs to be told, to anyone who asks," Bunny said at her staunchest.

"Sean," Yana said, turning to look into his dear, worried face. "Duty does have a way of calling regardless of personal convenience, love."

"I wouldn't stop you from doing what you think you need to do, even if I thought I could get away with it, Yana." His grin was slightly strained and anxious, and so were his eyes. "But be careful."

Yana understood his concern, maybe more than just "understood" after their union in the cave, and she deeply regretted the necessity of leaving her new husband so precipitously. She consoled herself with the knowledge that what they had between them would keep, on the ice and in the heat, come what may.

Two hours later the envoys were ready to depart.

Clodagh gave each of them an almost ritualistic kiss and embrace, putting a little leather bag on a thong around each of their necks.

"What's this?" Yana asked.

"It's dirt," Clodagh said simply.

"Dirt?"

"Yes. Petaybee wants you to have something to remember it by. The dirt's from the cave."

Not long before, Yana would have been stymied by such a statement,

but now she squeezed Clodagh warmly in an embrace of her own. "This makes me feel a lot better."

Then Sean clasped her in a farewell embrace and she, Bunny, and Diego boarded the company shuttle that would take them to Marmion's executive spaceliner, waiting in orbit. In Yana's carryall was Sean's wedding vest, to sleep with, and a hastily made town recording to Petaybean relatives in company service. Bunny carried a frozen fish for her cousin Charlie from his parents and a basket of pemmican from the wedding feast for homesick Petaybeans. Diego carried letters from his father to his mother, and a basket of his favorite Petaybean foods, plus nutrients to keep himself and Bunny healthy on the journey.

Once aboard the spaceliner, Sally Point-Jefferson, Marmion's aide, carefully placed Charlie's fish in the freezer. Bunny remained glued to the viewscreen, watching Petaybee disappear into a tiny point of light in the vastness of black space. She bent and unbent her fingers against the port in farewell as her home disappeared altogether.

2

Bunny turned away from the window, a little gasp of dismay escaping her throat, her eyes misty with suppressed tears. "I never thought I'd see the last of Petaybee," she said mournfully. Diego immediately took her into a warm embrace, murmuring reassurances and some of the silly names that he had created for her.

"Now, gatita" he said, the name meaning "little cat" or "kitten," "it's not as if you won't be coming back, or anything. It's only for a little while. And I bet no one from Kilcoole has ever seen Petaybee from space like you just did. Looks like one of those stones Aisling polishes up, the bluey ones with the white bands."

"Yes, I guess it does at that," Bunny said, sniffling until Marmion handed her a tissue. "Oh, sorry. Didn't bring anything to blow into."

"What the well-appointed vessel has in quantity-things you don't remember to bring with you," Marmion said kindly. "I forget how hard it is to leave a place you love. Only think how excited you'll be to see it in the viewscreen on your way back. The better view!"

Marmion then organized everyone into keeping busy; settling into their cubicles, getting food, making themselves comfortable. "I've had Sally acquire clothing for you, since you'd all be overwarmly dressed where we're going. It's also very important, I think, that we choose garments that will seem appropriate to our mission."

"What's wrong with what we're wearing?" Bunny asked. She was wearing the beautiful Gather Blouse Aisling had made out of the material Yana had gifted her with. The blouse made her feel very elegant and adult, and Diego said it was the nicest thing he'd seen her in.

"I'm not suggesting you change your style, dear," Marmion said in a conciliating tone, "and that blouse is certainly lovely, but you can't appear every day in it. So Sally and I scrounged around to see what would be you as well as, ah... not too conspicuously different. Oh..." She gave an exasperated sigh as she saw the defiant look on Bunny's face. "For all I'm supposed to be so diplomatic, I'm not putting this in the right words, am I? But then, where we're going, one is not often judged by what one is, but what one seems to be. You know what I'm talking about, Colonel Yana dear, don't you?" And Marmion appealed to Yana on more than the one count she was trying to explain.

"I do, indeed, Marmion." Yana tried to pull a fold over her belly from the material of her one-piece suit and failed with a laugh. "I'll need a size larger, I know."

"Oh, you're easy to do, Yana," Marmion said. "Wasn't she, Sally?"

The aide laughed and nodded. "With trouser pleats for expansion," she said. "And a tunic tailored just that little bit fuller across the... ah... hips."

"It isn't my hips that worry me," Yana said with a grin, hoping to clear Bunny's troubled expression.

"Diego, we've ordered you the very latest," Marmion went on, and then giggled in one of those displays of amusement which charmed her friends. "In fact, the whole operation was a great deal of fun. Why don't you and Bunny go see what's in your wardrobes? We'll still have time to discard what you really can't possibly be seen in before you have to be seen in it."

Diego escorted Bunny firmly to the cabins they'd been assigned. Only when the panel had slid shut behind them did Marmion's expression alter to one of concern.

"You do know what I mean, Yana?"

"Oh, yes, Marmion. I know precisely what you're trying to do, and so does Diego. He knows the drills. So do I. So, now what? Or do we wait for the others to return before you tell us the bad news?"

"How ever did you know there is some?"

"Because you're taking such especial pains to make us seem normal, look normal, and yet different enough so we'll still be 'original,' as well as acceptable."

Marmion, hands loosely clasped in her lap, considered that. "It will not be smooth sailing, although I have every confidence that common sense, at least this once, will prevail. Intergal, as well as other holding companies that have vast numbers of star systems held in fief as Petaybee is, will be watching. The scientifically acute are fascinated by the idea of a sentient planet. You must know that, with all the paper that's flooded your desk once they had a name to send messages to."

Yana nodded ruefully. "No kidding. There's been so much of it I haven't even begun to read it all, much less answer it. Sean's been doing a lot of the footwork, I suppose you'd call it, and that leaves Diego as the only other literate person in the north, other than his father and Steve Margolies, who are busy enough with their own work. Loncie Ondelacy is able to do some in the south. Diego's been teaching Bunny to read and write, but fast as she is, she can't learn enough in a couple of months to do more than help with alphabetical filing. Most of the letters seem to be from people who want to come to Petaybee for some reason or the other -I can't believe there's so many out there all of a sudden when the planet's been so quiet for years.

"We've had several inquiries from drug companies, too, and I have no idea how Clodagh's cures can be reproduced at this point. Even with a good growing season this year, the planet so far has provided just about enough to keep native Petaybeans supplied. If we're actually going to try to farm some of Clodagh's plants and produce her cures for a wider population, we'll have to do it in some way that doesn't overtax Petaybee. Clodagh's not even sure, at this point, if some of the ingredients can live off-planet. I knew this was going to take a lot of work, but it seems to me that someone's been broadcasting a lot of what ought to be classified information about the planet's sentient nature outside the committee. It's pushing us to go much faster than we're equipped to do at present."

"I understand your concern," Marmion said, "and discretion certainly has been urged on all parties where Petaybee is involved. I'm afraid what you're dealing with now is only, if you'll pardon the expression, the tip of the iceberg. Some of our board members are expressing concern that other colonized worlds might try to claim similar status. They're worried that Petaybee will set a precedent. If there were some way to reassure them that this is a once-off case of planetary sentience..." She cocked her head hopefully at Yana.

"You expect me to be able to answer that, Marmion? I can barely cope with the knowledge that there's one..."

"And that's exactly the attitude you ought to take, if I may make such a suggestion. Reaffirming it whenever asked just as you did to me now."

"But suppose Petaybee isn't a once-off?..." Yana liked to know she was telling the truth, inadvertently or otherwise.

Marmion sighed. "All the more reason, from the board's standpoint,

for keeping information about Petaybee hush-hush. They'd just as soon not give inhabitants of other terraformed planets any ideas, but at the same time, I expect CIS is going to want some sort of poll to try to determine if other worlds formerly considered habitats are indeed sentient beings."

She gave a gusty sigh. "It all seemed so easy back there." She flicked her fingers in the general spatial direction of Petaybee. "Lots of things seemed easy back there."

"Mostly because there weren't so many things to cloud perceptions," Yana said.

"Well, that's item one, Yana," Marmion went on briskly. "We have no way of knowing if there are more sentient planets, so we'll pretend Petaybee's an exception. As such, it will make our job that much easier. I think."

"What's item two?"

"Matthew Luzon is recovering from his injuries and..."

"Determined to somehow make us all pay for the indignities he suffered?" Yana supplied when Marmion hesitated.

"Yes, not to refine too much on it. That's why I've put some precautions in train. Sally..." She gestured to her aide, who immediately handed Yana a slim device that had a variety of depressible keys. "This is precaution number one. Carry it with you at all times and as inconspicuously as possible. It'll fit nicely in your brassiere. Put it on the left, depression side up, and memorize the positions of the various function keys so you can just"-she placed a casual hand over her left breast-"signal what's needed." She grinned. "As you'll see, it's got a sensitive recorder and a few offstage tricks that can be implemented. Rather handy."

"Have you needed such a device?" Yana examined it, noting the icons as well as the self-explanatory abbreviations like REC and MAY.

"Not 'needed' precisely," Marmion allowed, "but I always felt more... secure... when I was in unknown space, as it were, with that gadget in place. Then I've also appointed you 'assistants.' " Now she did look slightly embarrassed.

"Assistants?" Yana cocked her head at Marmion.

"Yes, well, everyone who is anyone has them..."

"And I must appear to be 'everyone' or 'anyone'... so who's my assistant?"

"You have three, Sally and Millard Ephasios for show, and someone who may not be needed to tell," Marmion explained, finishing with her charmingly ingenuous smile immediately counteracted by a sly wink. "And you won't know who that is."

"Hmm. All these subversive - "

"Discreet, my dear Yana," Marmion corrected her.

" - measures are necessary, you feel?"

"I don't like the weather report," Marmion said.

"Have you minders for Diego and Bunny?"

"I do, and I know they'll suit right down to the ground."

"Are you giving Bunny one of these?" Yana held up the slim device, which was no more than two fingers long and two knuckles wide. "She loves gadgetry."

"No, their bracelets should be adequate. As I'm sure you noticed, Bunny's unsettled enough about venturing forth. I don't want to upset her further. She's naturally shrewd anyway, and what she doesn't know about human nature, Diego knows about spacefaring ways."

"This trip will do her understanding of the galaxy a world of good," Yana remarked, and when Marmion gave her a startled look and started to laugh at her choice of words, she joined in. "Where's the galley on this boat? You'd think the way I eat, I hadn't seen food since Breakup!"

"You go with Sally to see your wardrobe, and I'll just fix a little something to tide you over to dinnertime," Marmion said.

"You? Cook?" Yana asked in surprise.

Marmion smiled a trifle archly. "Actually I'm rather good, aren't I, Sally?" And when her aide nodded affirmatively, the elegant diplomat added, "But I only do it for very special people."

So you get to bear-lead me, huh, Sally?" Yana commented as she followed Sally to her cabin.

They passed the one assigned to Diego and Bunny and heard the spirited discussion within.

"And people wear things like this? I'd freeze!"

"You're not going to be on Petaybee, and it's a great color for you, gatita. "

"Well, I dunno about the way it clings..."

"Trust me," Diego said, "it's terrific."

Yana grinned to Sally as they passed.

The selections made for Yana quite took her breath away. She'd never had many occasions to dress up, and the extent of the apparel displayed for her approval ranged from severely tailored to rich formal attire.

"Whenever would I wear something like this?" she asked Sally, holding

out a gore of the garnet, synthi-silk, full skirt, even as she was mentally trying it on. Then she noticed the decorations-copying Petaybean designs-on the neck and sleeve bands.

"There will be one or two formal occasions when you'll need to be extra elegant," Sally said, taking another fold and holding it up to Yana's face. "Yes, I thought this would be a good color for you."

"I've never had anything so... so soft and..." Yana couldn't resist stroking the fine fabric against her cheek.

"Feminine?" Sally asked. "About time then." Then she went to the more tailored semi-uniform garments. "You'll have more use of these."

"Oh..." Yana's wondering fingers caught at the Petaybean designs discreetly worked into the pocket flaps.

"Marmion was so taken with the Petaybean designs when we first arrived on the planet that we asked Aisling to do us some treatments. Subtle but noticeable, and definitely smart. That woman has an excellent clothes sense. Too bad it's been limited to rabbit skins and handwovens- not that," Sally hastily put in, "those haven't been handsome fabrics. Just more... ah... practical than you'd need onstation."

"Which are we going to, by the way? Marmion didn't say."

"Oh," Sally said, tossing out this bombshell as nonchalantly as she could, "Gal Three, of course."

Yana gulped and her mind raced from one consideration to another: Gal Three was the largest of the Space Cities, certainly in this sector of inhabited space, the headquarters of half a dozen of the more massive and prominent diversified enterprises, as well as CIS, Gal-legal, Gal-naval, and other galactic agencies. It was immense and was constantly updating its facilities with state-of-the-art technologies. Bunny would be totally overwhelmed, and Yana understood why Marmion was going to such lengths to dress them-clothes could give one confidence, just as uniforms could bestow anonymity at times-and why they would need hidden alert devices and "assistants." Yana hoped that Diego knew something about Gal Three-at least its reputation.

"Baptism into civilization by total immersion?" she quipped at Sally to cover her uneasiness.

"Bunny will be well protected, Yana." Sally was deadly serious.

"Then who've you got riding herd on her?"

"Riding herd? Oh, yes. Good term." Sally grinned. "Marmion has roped a pair of her young relatives-not too young, though, and very knowledgeable-to help out. And a very competent person as the discreet guard. She'll have fun, too. This is going to be quite a learning experience."

"Not just for her," Yana said with a sigh.

"Well, do you approve?" Marmion asked, coming into the cabin with a loaded tray.

"I'll never be as well dressed again," Yana said on the end of a sigh. "Oh, that smells divine..."

"Good natural foods always do. This is earth chook."

"Chicken?"

"Prepared from a much-coveted family recipe known to the famille de Revers as the Colonel's Southern Fried Chicken," Marmion said, snatching off the cover of the main dish with a dramatic gesture. "The colonel was my many-greats ancestor who fought in some sort of early war on Earth."

"Ohhh..." Yana, sniffing deeply, made no more concessions to courtesy but sank down on the chair by the table and served herself from the large platter.

Bunny entered then. "What smells so good?" she asked. Diego was right behind her, sniffing with his not-so-small proboscis.

"Yummy!"

"There's enough for all and more that can be hotted up if anyone has an appetite," Marmion said as the young people pulled chairs up to the table. She and Sally exchanged glances at the success of their agenda.

3

Sean forced himself back to work after seeing Yana off. He had hoped that they would have a little time to spend together. He'd arranged his investigations in the south so that he could. Damn CIS. But he had to trust Marmion de Revers Algemeine. She was awake on every count and more than able to handle whatever the ungood Captain Torkel Fiske and ex-chairperson Dr. Matthew Luzon could be up to. Sean did not doubt for a moment that they had plans underway to discredit Marmion, Yana, Bunny, and Diego, perhaps even discredit Anaciliact-though he would be the hardest person to compromise of the lot of them that had gone so bravely forth today. Sean just didn't see either Torkel Fiske or Matthew Luzon forgetting the indignities both had suffered on Petaybee, well-deserved though they had been.

Luzon may have broken legs, but with new healing techniques those injuries wouldn't put him out of action much longer. And nothing had broken his brains any more than they already were, or altered the man's outrage at the backfiring of all his calculations. Of course, he had lost credibility with Farringer Ball, the secretary-general of Intergal, but that would only make him more anxious to retaliate.

The company, too, was retaliating, apparently intent on drowning the newly appointed interim joint governors of Petaybean affairs, himself and Yana, under a mountain of paperwork.

At SpaceBase, most of the several tons of paper that was stacked ceiling-high in Yana's little cabin would have been electronically transmitted. So far Kilcoole had no electrical power, nor did it want to acquire any in the near future. The generator that ran Adak's radio was inadequate for the volume of communication the company suddenly found necessary to transmit. The battery-powered comm units weren't up to the job either. So couriers were sent several times a day via two of the hovershut-tles that had been sent down to aid in the repair of SpaceBase.

Three weeks after the planet had destroyed the landing fields and many of the surrounding buildings by extruding massed rock up through the center of the facility, SpaceBase had been all but evacuated. Meanwhile, troops were set to relocating buildings around the old cleared perimeter and salvaging what they could until small shuttles could ferry enough material to build a new landing pad. But before the first shipment could arrive, the planet gave the company another demonstration of its power.

Sean and Yana had been riding toward SpaceBase and were just in sight of the standing stones the planet had made of the landing field when suddenly both curlies shied and whinnied. About the same time, the trees began to shimmy, the river along which the trail ran churned as if stirred by millions of giant fish, and the ground shuddered. Both curlies abruptly sat down, Sean and Yana still astride them.

"Earthquake!" Yana yelled, but Sean found himself grinning back at her and pointing.

For the standing stones were tumbling. The planet, with a mighty swallow followed by several small sips, was retrieving the stones and earth with which it had made such an impression on Intergal's principal Petaybean outpost.

Yana grinned back at him through the cloud of gritty dust and the grinding roar and slam of the planet's machinations.

"Well, isn't that something?" she said when the tremors subsided. The curlies rose to their feet. The soldiers working around the edge of the base crept back to survey the damage done when the structures the planet had hoisted aloft suddenly settled back to ground level again, though not exactly in their former places or conformation. "And what, do you suppose, was that all about?"

"Scientifically, I suppose this subsidence probably has something to do with the volcanic and seismic activity happening near the equator-since it's busy building up layers in the sea there. Maybe it needed this bit elsewhere. What it looks like, however, is in light of the company's agreement to be sensible, Petaybee is showing it's willing to let bygones be bygones."

Now he was wishing his planet was not so forgiving.

Though repairs and replacements had only brought SpaceBase back to about a fourth of its former capacity, it seemed to have plenty of power to

generate the damned paperwork which only Sean and Yana were available or able to handle. Frank Metaxos and Steve Margolies, though literate and willing to be helpful, were still company employees and as such kept far too busy with their own work to assist in administrative chores.

I really must get a literacy program going as soon as possible, he reflected ruefully.

Up until now he hadn't really been aware of the volume of work, since he had been out canvassing the planet, trying to find out which needs the people wanted met, how they perceived the planet's wishes in their areas, what sort of interaction they desired with the company. He had also been assisting Clodagh in finding new areas where the plants for her cures grew. Fortunately, Lonciana Ondelacy, a former company corpswoman, was also literate, and she was able to do much of the work in the south. tMortunately, all of the paperwork still had to be processed here before that destined for the south could be sent to Loncie. Portage, the southern continent's landing base, wasn't equipped for a large volume of traffic or anything much bigger than a shuttle. Whittaker Fiske had been helping transfer relevant documents to Loncie by loaning Petaybee's new administration the services and copter of his personal pilot, Johnny Greene.

Sean picked up a piece of paper, this one from the ambassador of someplace called Petra 6.

"To whom it may concern," it began. "We have recently been apprised of information leading us to believe that relatives of some of our settlers reside on Planet Terraform B. Our people would like to know how to comply with the visa process on your world in order to be reunited with their estranged family members. Yrs. truly, Alphonsina Torunsdotter, Ambassador."

Before he could think of a reply, the door to the cabin banged open and a pair of battered men, bound tightly with sinew rope and each wearing a dead animal around his neck, fell into the room. They were closely followed by the fuming form of Sean's sister, Sinead, who slammed the door shut.

"You won't believe what I caught these two-these two murderers doing, Sean!" Sinead said.

"I believe exhibits A and B might already be tied around their necks, sis," Sean said mildly.

"Yes, but they didn't claim this fox or this wolf from any of the culling places. They went into the woods and, using their so-called civilized weapons-" She slapped two laser rifles atop a tottering pile of papers, causing an avalanche which all but buried the prisoners. "-simply slaughtered these perfectly healthy creatures without so much as a by-your-leave or a thank-you!"

"Mmm-hmmm," Sean said, eyeing the prisoners. "And what do you have to say for yourselves?"

"Well," the bearded one began, "we did ask weeks ago how to apply for a hunting license on Petaybee, after some corps buddies of ours told us about all the game here, but we never got an answer, so we figured, backwater planet, wide open, anything goes."

Sinead grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face back so that he could only see her cross-eyed glare. "You figured wrong, wormbreath." "You should," Sean told the men, "have been patient. How did you get here anyway? SpaceBase is only transporting official personnel these days."

"We-uh-we caught the shuttle." "What shuttle?"

"The PTS shuttle our soldier buddies told us about." "Excuse me" Sinead said.

"Stands for Petaybean Tourist Service," the man whose hair she had hold of said quickly. "Looks like it's brand new-arrived on MoonBase a few hours before we did."

The other man said, "I demand that you and this-this amazon of yours-"

"The lady," Sean said, "is my sister."

"That you and your sister untie us and inform us of what laws we have broken and notify our ambassador at once. I am Dr. Vincent de Peugh, vice-president in charge of resource utilization for Intergal's Terra Section Delta, and this is my colleague, Dr. Raymond Ersol, vice-president in charge of air quality control. We do not intend to spend our vacations being victimized by your government on some trumped-up charges."

Sean rose from behind the paperwork, lifted several sheets from the head and shoulders of Dr. Ersol, and neatly replaced them on the desk, which he then leaned against, ankles and arms crossed.

"Well, gentlemen, I can see that you've been misled. You've broken no written law, as such, since we have yet to write any. Quite simply, the people who live here know that one hunts only to live on Petaybee, and one takes only the game which offers itself. What I would like to see from you is your authorization to be here at all. As far as I know, at this time only official personnel and designated settlers approved and transported by Intergal are allowed to be here-not offworld employees looking for what you consider recreation. What we, as Sinead has so tactfully ex-

plained, consider wanton murder of an allied species. You see, and as a resource manager, Dr. Peugh, I'm sure you'll understand this, we of Petaybee, people, animals, plants, and planet, have a system, and we all depend on each other. You've just gone and upset that system something terrible. Now then, Sinead will be glad to release you after you've accompanied her to make due restitution to those you've offended."

"And our property?" Ersol nodded to the rifles.

"We'll return it to you on Earth, if you'd care to leave a forwarding address. Might take a while though. Backwater place like Petaybee, the postal service is atrocious. No doubt that's why I never received your request, or if I did," he added with a gesture to the piles of paper, "I haven't got around to answering it yet. Sinead, I think maybe you might get Liam to accompany you, and maybe Dinah. She's been driving Liam nuts since Diego left. And you could loosen the hobbles on these gentlemen so you don't have to carry them outside again."

Sinead gave him a mock salute and hauled her prisoners back outside.

Sean sighed. It didn't look as if he was going to be bored while Yana was shipside, anyway. Now he'd better see if he could enlist Whit Fiske to help him find out about this Petaybean Tourist Service shuttle business.

Yana, Bunny, Diego, and Marmion were all together in the forward viewing lounge as the great sprawling array of interlocking circles that was Gal Three grew from a glittering spot of light to its real majestic splendor. The circles were stacked five deep horizontally and, in places, nine in vertical alignment. There were two more thick, squat circles at nadir and zenith of the complex, which housed its defensive equipment. Yana stared in fascination. She'd never had such a view of the facility: both of her trips here had been made in the belly of a troop transport. She rather thought they'd been docked on one of the nadirward circles.

Diego was explaining the various levels to a goggle-eyed Bunny: the upper levels were for executives and company chairpersons; the next level housed recreation and mercantile areas for the Gal Three resident population; the middle one was probably all accommodation, both for transients and residents; while the fourth was devoted to repair, environmental controls, and other such mechanical operations. The fifth was for storage, while the blobs on top and bottom were restricted to Gal Three personnel, defense, and administration.

"Wait a min, Diego." Bunny finally got her awe under control. "People live all their lives on this-thing?"

"Sure. I haven't lived that long on a planetary surface, you know," he replied.

Her look was clearly "you poor deprived kid," but he didn't notice it, for he was already waxing verbose on the entertainment and catering treats that were in store for her.

"Oh, and I have just the right couple to be sure you don't miss the right places," Marmion said cheerfully. "My nephew and niece-or, rather, my late husband Henri Algemeine's nephew and niece. They are such charming youngsters that I know you won't object to their company."

Yana could see Diego's wince and Bunny's blink of astonishment.

"They really do know their way around," Marmion went on firmly. "Bailey Algemeine's sixteen-"

"Eighteen, Marmion," Sally corrected her. "Remember, he graduated from Aldebaran Tech last month."

"Aldebaran Tech?" Diego breathed respectfully.

"Time does fly, doesn't it? Yes, and I do believe he got both patents on his escape-pod projects."

"Escape pods?" Diego was impressed.

"But he's free for a while and waiting for just the right opportunity. So it's fortunate he's on Gal Three right now, isn't it?" Marmion's bright smile was irresistible.

"Your niece?" Bunny asked with a sideways and slightly proprietary glance at Diego.

"Charmion's finished her course in neural deprivation-she's a Pultney-Gabbison, you know," Marmion bubbled on. "So she came with Bailey for a visit. He's been showing her around Gal Three, too. She's nineteen. Almost too athletic for a girl in her social position." Marmion sighed and, having delivered her message, turned to watch the docking. Now, smoothly aiming at the second horizontal circles, the far-from-insignificantly-sized spacelaunch became a mote as it was received into the small docking area that catered to the vessels of people of her rank. Yana began to agree with Sally that proper clothes would lend confidence: not much else would.

A melodious chime rang through the launch, followed by the verbal announcement that all docking procedures had been completed and the passengers might now disembark.

A cluster of people stood politely awaiting their arrival. 'Bots, attached to grav floats, scurried on board to collect luggage-Bunny followed their progress with round eyes. Yana noticed the girl's hands twitching at her sides as if she wanted to take one of the 'bots apart and see what its innards were like.

Bailey and Charmion were easy to pick out of the group: they were the youngest, the boy with long, black hair in a clever clip, and the girl with a head of very blond curls that framed a face as charming as her name. They were a very good-looking pair, fashionably clad in some of the very colors that Bunny had protested about. They also looked intelligent and welcoming, with no trace of the stylish boredom so many young aristocrats affected. Charmion was obviously fond of her aunt and called out a stream of greetings as Marmion disembarked her launch. Beyond Charmion and tall Bailey, Yana saw the imposing figure of Millard Ephasios, one of the aides Marmion had had with her on Petaybee; she decided that the tall, attractive, gray-haired gentleman with the patient expression on his face was one of Marmion's suitors, and the older woman her social secretary. The woman was impeccably dressed and had an organizational air about her, like an officer in a rear-echelon office. Rentnor Bavistock was her secretary, and Cynthia Grace was Marmion's financial adviser. Marmion murmured that Cynthia would be a good person to talk to on how to start up small businesses on Petaybee so that people like Clodagh, who'd be gathering and processing Petaybee's pharmaceutical wealth, could set themselves up properly. Yana sighed, not really wanting to impose anything "modern" on her friends.

Very shortly Yana discovered that things weren't what they appeared to be on Gal Three. Residence permits, in the form of metal bracelets "to be worn at all times," said Rentnor firmly, were immediately clamped around each wrist.

"Don't even take them off when you shower," Marmion added, taking hers from Rentnor and noting that Sally was already wearing one. "Loss can cause the most remarkable problems in getting about the facility."

"You wouldn't believe!" Bailey said, rolling his eyes and grinning at Bunny and Diego.

The last member of the welcoming committee wore an official-looking outfit, tailored to his spare figure, with collar tabs Yana didn't recognize but which were sufficiently intricate enough to denote high rank. He was swarthy, with a close-shaven pate of black hair and an oddly asymmetrical countenance which made his large nose seem to divide the disparate sides. His black eyes were patient, and he had a slight lift to one corner of a wide mouth. Like a well-trained, or very polite, official, he waited until the initial exchange of introductions, news, and urgent messages had been accomplished before he stepped forward to take and kiss the hand Mar-mion held out to him.

"Oh, Commander, how good of you to take the time," Marmion said, and then introduced Commander Nal an Hon. "I've told my friends to be very careful of their ID bracelets."

"Indeed, a caution worth repeating frequently," he said. Then he turned to the newcomers. "While the bracelets will admit you to every level but Nadir and Zenith, you would be wise not to explore, or you might find yourself missing a hand."

Bunny gasped and protectively clasped her braceleted hand to her chest.

"Now, Nal, I won't have you frightening my young friends simply because they're dirtfoots," Marmion said with a little reassuring laugh.

"It's because they're dirtfoots that I do," he said with no apology, and caught Yana's gaze, nodding to mean that his warning was for her as well. Yana raised an eyebrow at him. And to think that six months ago, she might have said something similarly preposterous to someone like herself, she thought.

"Having said that, I would be happy to escort your friends into Zenith Ring for the Tour."

"How kind of you, Nal. When we've had time to settle in, I'll take you up on that offer." Marmion twinkled flirtatiously at the commander.

"Then I shall await your call, madame," he said. With a courteous bow, he withdrew.

"And you will tell me what that was all about, won't you, Rentnor, Cynthia?" Marmion demanded in an undertone, without a single sparkle of amusement.

"Hmmm. But it will take an hour or so, Marmie," Cynthia said. "Meanwhile, let's get to your suite." She gave a little convulsive shudder. "It's so open out here."

Bailey and his cousin Charmion immediately moved to bracket Diego and Bunny. "We'll lead on, Aunt Marmie," Bailey said.

Yana had Sally on one side and Millard on the other, while Rentnor and Cynthia partnered Marmion as they made their way out of the docking bay. When the lock doors closed with a satisfactory clank, Cynthia uttered a little sigh of relief.

"Agoraphobic?" Yana asked Sally.

"Definitely. Her launch only has a viewscreen in the pilot's compartment," Sally said. "It can take you like that, you know."

"I thank the stars that I don't," Yana replied. "You've been well, Mil-lard?"

"Tolerably, thank you, Colonel Maddock-Shongili."

"I've been Yana to you before, Millard," Yana said repressively.

"I'm practicing, Yana," Millard said with a mischievous grin that seemed out of place on his serious face.

"For what?"

"For making it very plain to even casual observers"-Millard paused significantly-"that you are not just a transient or insignificant dirtfooter!"

"Oh?" Yana asked, amused that he, too, had noticed. "And what do you suppose gives anyone that impression? The colonel, or the hyphenated surname?"

"Either," Millard replied imperturbably, idly glancing at those passing them in the corridor. Taking a long step, he followed the four young people onto the walkway and turned to hold out a hand for Yana.

She had a half-formed notion to remind him that she was scarcely infirm when a nudge from Sally behind her made her accept the offer of courteous assistance. Feeling slightly regal, Yana accepted with a smile and a nod to Millard.

"You're doing just great, Yana," Sally murmured in her ear.

"Will you be coloneling me, too?" Yana whispered back.

"No, but I'm another woman and patently your companion, while Millard has just been booted into the role of escort."

"Oh!"

When they reached the main concourse, Yana was sorry that Bunny was in front of her. She would have liked to see the girl's expression when she beheld the mechanical and commercial splendors of the Second Level. Not only was there a ceiling monorail in operation, but there were four levels of shops on this part of the concourse, and belt steps at regular intervals to get people easily from one level to another. Some of the shops were blasting passersby with their sounds, smells, and sensual outputs, assaults to which the residents were no doubt immune but which would stun Bunny as they did Yana, who had only heard about such concourses. The lower-level facilities she had patronized infrequently as an officer had been considerably more primitive than these.

"You will notice, Colonel," Millard was saying, "that there are location diagrams at convenient intervals by the belt-lifts." He indicated the one they were passing. "Your quarters are located at Interface Three, that's two circles right of our present position, Three El one-ten. Please memorize that and record."

Yana's hand was halfway to her belt for the recording device that had so often been part of her basic equipment when she remembered Mar-mion's gift. She had drilled herself on the position of the keys and now, with a brush of her hand, activated the recorder and spoke: "3-L-110, Interface Three."

"Handy gadget," she murmured, over her shoulder to Sally.

"They are."

They continued to the turn, the panels sliding open to admit them at the wave of a wrist and closing behind them, shutting out the frenetic noise of the concourse.

"The walkway is on the port side," Millard said. "Or you can walk for the exercise."

"I need the walk." Yana replied. "Oh, is it safe?"

"Safe enough, Colonel."

"That's going to unnerve me," Yana said between her teeth.

"It's supposed to have the opposite effect," Millard murmured back, and she saw the glint of mischief in his eyes.

The living accommodations were on two levels, with belt-lifts to take the upper-level residents to their doors. Obviously the second level was more secure. There was also an air of refined elegance in the floor covering, the discreet, nonstimulating murals and decor. Brass territory, Yana thought to herself, and also thought she could stand a bit of this right now, especially with Petaybee's winter on its way when she returned to the planet.

Marmion's quarters were on the upper level and seemed to take over one whole quadrant of the circle. Each wristband had to be presented before the panel would admit another body. Yana had lost track of the luggage 'bots, but when she arrived in her room, everything was there, so she suspected a service access and wondered if the 'bots got their IDs checked, too.

In a state of shocked bemusement, Bunny was peering around the sumptuous main lounge of Marmion's quadrant. And it was a quadrant, Sally told her with a grin.

"Marmion rents four of the five levels to Gal Three," she added.

"And the fifth?"

"That's environment, and another company owns it and the equipment. Marmion does have a share in the company, but only a small one."

"Oh!"

"We're all on the guest side," Sally explained. "Marmion's got a complete office here so she can keep up with her investments.

"This way, Bunny, Diego," she added, and set off to take the newcomers on a small tour while Marmion went off with her business colleagues and Bailey and Charmion deliberated exactly how to entertain Bunny and Diego when they returned to the lounge.

4

Youngling, you are troubled. The rumble of the clouded snow leopard's concern brushed soothingly against the painful thoughts and feelings attacking 'Cita's spirit.

The girl reached up and put her arm around the neck of the great cat, burying her face in fur. "Oh, Coaxtl, I am nothing but troubled. I have been weak and foolish and now my new family, my sister and her mate and my beautiful new aunt, have left me behind, and my kind uncle is so displeased with me he seldom speaks to me anymore. I am indeed unworthy to be included in the activities here, too stupid to help, too needy, too..."

Too long dwelling in the false caves of men, Coaxtl said with a cough of disdain. Too long away from the clean cold snow. Come, let us go to the mountains together and chase each other's tracks and find a rabbit who wants to die. It will be like the old days, before the men brought you here.

Goat-dung wailed and hugged the cat harder. "Oh, poor, poor Coaxtl, I know you have stayed here away from your home just because I am too stupid to look after myself and you are a very kind cat..."

Hush that! And stop thinking of yourself as Goat-dung, youngling. The others have given you good names-the name of your dam, Aoifa, and the name of your sire and your litter-mate, which is Rrrrrourrrrke! Coaxtl took great pleasure in roaring the name. Or they call you 'Cita, which is a better name than La Pobrecita, the poor little one, or Goat-dung. This one would drop all of those kitten names and simpfy call one's self Rrrrrourrrrke!

"I wish I were your kitten, Coaxtl."

Well, you aren't, but we can pretend. Come. Though you've gained some

weight since you 've been here, still you are not too large for one to carry on one's back part-way. One smells snow and one wants to rnroW.

Goat-dung-no, 'Cita-no, the Rrrourrke Youngling climbed onto the back of her friend, and together they bounded away from the river and the town, away from all the bustling people, away from the memories of the terrors of the SpaceBase, and out into the forest with its showers of rust-colored needles and bright golden leaves. Rabbits, squirrels, and birds scattered before them as Coaxtl raced through the red underbrush, her paws crackling on the carpet of old leaves, which sent up a delicious, spicy smell with the cat's every step.

Before they reached the edge of the forest, Coaxtl suddenly lay down and rolled over. Youngling Rrrourrke tumbled into the leaves and laughed as Coaxtl mock-pounced her, all four paws landing clear of the girl while the furry face gazed into hers.

"Your breath smells like dead meat!" the girl cried.

Yours smells like you've lived among men too long! Coaxtl answered. What are you lying there for, lazy youngling? It's your turn to cany one!

"And how should I do that, crazy cat?" she asked, scrambling out from under the creature's underbelly, where twigs and leaves dangled from the silky fur. The girl opened her mouth wide and pretended to go for the back of the cat's neck. "Shall I carry you in my mouth, like a mama cat?"

Don't be impertinent! Coaxtl said, and bounded off into the brush. Bet you can't track one!

Goat-dung/Pobrecita/'Cita/Aoifa/Youngling Rrrourrke roared the cat's name and plunged through the brush after her friend. Every time she paused, bewildered when the cat seemed to be nowhere around, she heard a laughing thought just ahead of her and saw the quiver of a bush or the flash of silver fur which was not awfully good camouflage in the bright-colored forest, and she was on the trail once more.

And then, without warning, she ran out of the forest, onto the edge of the muskeg-humped plain, and there was no Coaxtl, not anywhere.

Hsst, the cat's voice cautioned. Hide. A man thing comes.

"What? Where? Coaxtl, I can't find you. Where are you?" she asked, and rustled the brush trying to find sight of the cat. But while her back was turned, she suddenly smelled what must have alerted the cat long before, and saw a small flat vessel, not like the copters she had once known as Company Angels, but what Bunny had referred to as a "shuttle." It had letters on the side. Bunny had been showing her stupid sister letters before she left. She thought the names of those letters were P, like the first letter of Petaybee or Pobrecita, and I-no, the table on top, that was it! Bunny had said that a T had a table on top! PT-S like snake or serpent. PTS. That was what it said on it.

She was so proud of herself for puzzling this out that she didn't think to hide. She had become somewhat easier among people since her move to Kilcoole, and more accustomed to what Coaxtl called man things. The Shepherd Howling had not cared much for such things unless they were bringing supplies, so machinery had played little part in the terror of her life among the flock before she met Coaxtl.

So mostly she was curious and watched the shuttle land, despite many hissings from Coaxtl.

She had no idea that such an important-looking craft or the people from it would take any notice of someone like her.

One by one they climbed out and sank promptly into the squooshy hillocks of muskeg. Their lower clothing and legs and feet would be very wet, she knew. Some of them carried long metal sticks; some of them had on long white skirts, and others wore short skirts and high fur boots, and leaned on the arms of companions. Still others wore shiny pants. All of them were much too warmly dressed in layers and layers of fur and down, mittens, boots, coats, mufflers, and hats. "Aha!" one of the ones in a skirt cried. "There's one!" "One what?" asked a woman's bored voice. "An aboriginal Petaybean." "There's no such thing," another protested.

"Ah, you, sir, as a businessman, obviously do not understand the spiritual nature of the relationship between the Petaybean native and his or her Great Benefactor. It has been explained to me and my brethren, however, by an expert on the subject." And without waiting for further argument, the man in the white skirt slogged forward, squooshing up to his knees with every step. "You there?"

"Brethren." He had said "Brethren." Shepherd Howling talked that way, and Dr. Luzon. They were not very nice people, but she had learned to obey them. Half of her wanted to shrink back into the brush, but she stood as if rooted while the man approached, and waited for him to demand that she do something she didn't want to. "Oh, little girl, yoo hoo!" another white skirt, this one a woman, called. "Yes, you!" the man said. "You are an indigenous native of this glorious being upon which we stand?" "Well," the girl began. Youngling... Coaxtl's voice whispered. "Well, yes, I guess so."

"Ah!" The man's nervous smile broadened into a wide grin and he beckoned to those waiting behind the shuttle. "She is! Come along, it's all right then."

The others surged forward as awkwardly as the first, carrying their bags and their metal sticks and baskets.

The woman in the white skirt was the first to arrive. "Brother Shale, you've been too hasty as usual and frightened her." The woman pulled back her hood, to reveal a shaven head, and took off her mitten to stick out a hand. "Hello, honey. I'm Sister Igneous Rock. Take us to your leader."

Ponopei II

Torkel Fiske had disguised himself before leaving his shuttle. He didn't care to be recognized by any of his father's cronies. A dark colorwash and a quick weave altered his hairstyle to shaggily long with a part instead of his usual cropped red cut; he wore a dark mustache that looked utterly convincing, and a pair of dark glasses well suited for the climate of the resort moon Ponopei II. The white synlin suit and Caribbe seascape-designed shirt were unlike anything he ever wore anywhere else. Woven sandals, no socks, and the sort of jewelry he normally wouldn't be caught dead in completed his ensemble. He had chemically altered his skin color with the substance designed to keep shipsiders from feeling out of place where sun and sea worship were the norm.

Running an all-view holo to check his appearance, he didn't recognize himself. He looked like a pirate on vacation.

Good. Onidi Louchard wouldn't take him for a rich, regimented fool then, a company flunky who had risen to power on his father's reputation. More and more he was starting to feel that people around him viewed him in that light, and he hated it.

Fortunately, he had experience at disguising himself on company business. A little fiddling with the computers altered the identity codes to provide him with yet another persona. His shuttle was an Intergal rental registered to M'sser J. LaFitte, a gem dealer from Burroughs Canal, Mars.

He had come to Ponopei II often enough that he was known there, so he was gratified when none of the docking authorities recognized him, nor the florist where he bought his leis, one for himself and one to seal the deal with Louchard. The maitre d' at his favorite restaurant failed to recognize him as well, saying only, on consulting the reservation, "Ah, M'sser LaFitte, your companion has not yet arrived, but your chamber is ready. This way, sir."

Torkel spent the next fifteen minutes sizing up the people who entered after him, wondering which one could be Louchard. After watching three men in shorts and sandals, another in a yellow business suit similar to his own, five giggling young girls, and one slightly older, petite, demure looker, dressed to kill-a society trophy wife, he guessed-he thought he had been stood up.

Then the trophy wife in the soft lavender and blue sarong dress turned her snappy high-heeled sandals his way. Her legs were very nice, he noted. Pity women seldom showed them in public anymore-except here, of course, where they showed everything. In taking in her appearance, he saw that she was somewhat older than he had assumed at first, her dark blond hair tufted at the ears and crowned with silver. Then he realized she was wearing a blue frangipani behind one ear. Louchard's communique had melodramatically mentioned a blue flower and that he was to bring leis.

The woman with the blue flower smiled and extended a tiny, beringed hand. All the rings had gems that matched her dress except for a prodigious stack of gold ones on the ring finger of her right hand. He admitted her to the chamber, and shut out the sights and sounds of the soft pink sands of the beach, the lime green waters, and the multicolored gardens by closing the hatch of the privacy bubble behind her and drawing the beaded curtain.

"It's Captain LaFitte, surely, isn't it?" the woman inquired, sliding neatly across from him.

"It's Captain Fiske, as your organization was told," he said. "And I was told I would negotiate with Louchard."

"Louchard couldn't make it," the woman said with a charming show of teeth in a pink-lipsticked mouth. "I represent the organization. We understood you had business to discuss, and I am the business manager, Dinah O'Neill."

"I see," he said, and he did. She was no more a business manager than he was Jean LaFitte. The appearance of Onidi Louchard was a carefully guarded secret, but he had heard that the pirate was female. And this lady's eyes were as cold and calculating as he always fancied himself to be. They understood each other quite well already. "The deal is simply this. I recently met some gentlemen in business with Louchard on the planet known to the locals as Petaybee. It's a treacherous world that refuses to

give up its secrets to outsiders, but seems to have a fondness for certain people who live there. Three of those people are now on Gal Three. The one I'm concerned with is a former company corps officer, Yanaba Mad-dock. She and her paramour, a suspicious local named Shongili, have maneuvered themselves into being named coadministrators of the governmental affairs of TerraformB. They're the ones who threw a monkey wrench in your operation on the planet, and they're now the ones in charge of future resource use. Maddock is pregnant. Her husband is, for a variety of complicated reasons, unable to leave the planet. The teenagers accompanying her are a boy of no particular consequence and a girl who is the husband's niece. But the important one is Maddock."

"I can see where holding her would give you a certain-leverage. But I fail to see where there's any profit in that for us," said Dinah O'Neill.

"I really should have spoken to your leader then," Torkel said. "He would have understood at once. Petaybean mineral wealth is still waiting to be mined. Captain Louchard has seen this..."

She shrugged. "That is true, but it's also true, Captain, that there are many other worlds to mine. Petaybean ore and gems are top quality, but are proving... costly... to extract. In addition to losing four men and the supplies invested in their operation, you now want us to kidnap some settlers? That planet doesn't yield its largesse to them either, and they're all poor as dirt. Sounds to me like you've got a personal problem with these people, Captain. We're not terrorists, we're businesspeople."

"So is the woman who is hosting Yana Maddock and the children. I'm sure as a 'businessperson' you'll be familiar with the name Marmion de Revers Algemeine?"

"Naturally, though regrettably she has never shown an inclination to avail herself of our services. If the parties you're interested in detaining are in her care, however, I must tell you that such an operation would be so difficult it would be no more cost-effective than your other proposal."

"Even if detaining Algemeine as well as Maddock is possible? I would think that the lady would command an extremely high ransom."

The woman shook her head and looked at him pityingly. "So would the board of directors of Intergal, but we do know our limits, Captain."

He leaned over and boldly took her hand. "So do I-on my own. You don't think I'd suggest this unless I knew I could expedite access to the targets, do you? Just say yes and we can make this happen."

She smiled and covered his hand with her other one. The rings bit into the back of his knuckles. "I never could resist a smooth-talking man who wears more jewelry than I do. Expedite away, Captain, and have your people get in touch with our people. You know how."

5

Outside Kilcoole

After asking to be taken to 'Cita's leader, whoever that was, the white-robed Sister Igneous Rock continued to look at 'Cita ectantly while the others chimed in.

"A very good idea, oddly enough, considering the source," one of the women in very short skirts said. "Do take us to your leader. I'd like to speak to whoever is in charge. I represent BIEX, the galaxy's leading pharmaceutical concern, and-

"Come off it, Portia," said one of the men in shiny pants. "She's just a kid. Doesn't even look like she speaks English."

"Petaybeans don't need to speak English," Sister Igneous Rock told the man sternly. "They communicate instinctively with the Beneficent Source. Please take us there, dear. Can you give us a name, perhaps?"

"This unworthy one has been called Goat-dung," 'Cita began timorously, awed by the presence of such strange, if apparently ignorant, ones.

"Not by me," Sister Igneous Rock said indignantly, wrinkling her nose as if 'Cita smelled like her namesake. "Really, dear, while natural names are pleasing to the Beneficence, I would not dream of calling the first actual denizen of Petaybee I meet by such a demeaning name as 'Goat-dung.' "

"Mostly I answer to 'Cita."

Sister Igneous Rock nodded and seemed gratified, but the rest once more began talking as if 'Cita were not there.

"Coaxtl, what shall I do?" the girl asked softly, hoping the big cat could hear her, for she could no longer see her friend. "Who is it they wish to see? It is too far to take them back to Uncle Sean before nightfall, and the ones in the short clothes will freeze after dark..."

"I don't want to see any damned leader," one of the men with the metal sticks was saying. "They had plenty of time to answer our applications for hunting permits. That fella I talked to said they had cats here big as horses with pelts that would fetch thousands, and unicorns that if you cut off their horns and drank them in a powder, would let you do it as many times a night as you wanted."

Do not tell them one is here, youngling, Coaxtl said.

"There's no need to bother this child at all," an older woman said. "Once we find my family, they can help us all sort out our problems. Honey, do you know a family named Monaghan? We got separated when the company resettled us during the Troubles. I've been living on Coventry all these years and I just now heard that some of the folks from my village were settled here."

'Cita shook her head. The woman looked nice and 'Cita wanted to help her, but this was all very confusing. "I haven't lived in Kilcoole long, but we could ask my Uncle Sean, if he's not too busy. Or Clodagh. I guess they're leaders."

"No, no, child," Brother Shale said. "We don't mean human leaders. We want to make the acquaintance of the Beneficence. We want to offer up our service and adoration..."

"In all due humility, of course," added a third white-robed figure. Behind him was a fourth that 'Cita had not previously noticed.

"Brothers Shale and Schist are correct," this new person, a woman, added. "We have no use for human leaders. I am Sister Agate, and I personally would like to state"-and as she said this, she turned about this way and that to shout over the heads of all of the people, including 'Cita-"that I am delighted to be here and will assist the Beneficent Entity in any way I possibly can."

"Hush, Agate. We all will. It's not right to put yourself forward like that," Sister Igneous Rock said.

"I don't know about any Beni-whatsis," 'Cita said, "or that family either. But I'm very young and ignorant. They'd know in Kilcoole. Except it's almost night now and it'll be dark before we can get there and I'm afraid I'm too stupid to find my way in the dark."

"Kilcoole? That's where the government is supposed to be," the woman called Portia said. "How far is it?"

"Many klicks," 'Cita said after trying to figure out how to explain distances on Petaybee.

"Coaxtl, where can I take them to spend the night?" she asked while they argued among themselves. But the big cat didn't answer. She was all alone with these strangers. Finally she drew them into the woods, where they would not get snowed upon, and with the help of the white-robed ones, who could be most insistent, got them to bundle together beds of leaves and needles and lie close together, the most warmly dressed to the outside.

"Ah, rocked to sleep by the breeze of the Beneficence," Sister Agate said through chattering teeth, as she curled near Portia, who kicked her viciously.

The men with the metal sticks refused to obey and sat with their backs to trees, shivering despite their winter clothing, holding their sticks menacingly in front of them. When they fell asleep, in spite of themselves, 'Cita crept over to them and took the sticks from their hands and buried them beneath bushes.

Brother Schist muttered constantly under his breath, and the man in the shiny pants tried to snuggle Sister Igneous Rock.

'Cita huddled alone in the dark, searching for a particular touch in her head, a particular pair of eyes kindling in the darkness. She had actually dropped off to sleep when she felt a familiar warmth against her side.

Help comes, Coaxtl said simply. That was when 'Cita noticed that Coaxtl's warmth was joined by another, smaller purring bundle.

An orange cat rubbed herself against Coaxtl, who rumbled a low growly remark.

Clodagh is on her way to us with the curfy-coats. She will be here soon. 'Cita was so relieved she could almost cry. She was so incompetent and everyone was always helping her out of the problems she seemed to find. Do not bow your head, youngling, Coaxtl rumbled. You have done exceeding well, as the Clodagh person will tell you, even as her messenger does. You have saved the furred and feathered ones from the men with the metal sticks, and the men with the metal sticks from the wrath of the Home. You have also saved these puny others from wandering unguided in lands which are unfamiliar to them and in which they are unfit to travel. Clodagh is pleased with you. Then Coaxtl sighed. Even if we must return to the false caves of men. "Oh, Coaxtl! And you are so miserable..." How can one be miserable when there are warm places to lie, food to eat, snow to roll in, and a youngling to lick into shape? Coaxtl interrupted her. One may prefer the inner chambers, but wherever one sets one's paws they touch the Home. Coaxtl raised her head and lapped at a snowflake, the first of several now drifting from the sky. Ah! See you, youngling? The Home, knowing that we sought snow and were prevented from reaching it, sends it to us. We are rewarded. You have brought honor to the pride and snow to us both. This is a good thing, yes?

'Cita nodded, still uncertain. "I can see that it's working out well. And it is a good thing to achieve honor, even if I did it accidentally. Still, is it not better to achieve honor by being in the right place at the right time?"

Coaxtl blindsided her with a massive lick to her face. This is no time to ponder on the mysteries of life, youngling. Now, compose yourself for what sleep you may achieve with all this noise. When the girl obeyed, the great clouded cat settled herself and curled about 'Cita's body. In moments, the girl was asleep, despite the snores that filled the air.

Having delivered its message, the orange cat had already disappeared.

When 'Cita opened her eyes again, the sky through the trees was ivory with snow and she was covered with a light coating of it. Coaxtl was not to be seen, but her side where the cat had lain against her was still warm.

The people from the shuttle stirred restlessly under a thin blanket of snow.

One of the would-be huntsmen awoke with a start and reached for the weapon that wasn't there, and a moment later the head of a curly-coat appeared through the brush.

"Clodagh!" 'Cita called with relief. Behind Clodagh were Uncle Seamus and three of the grown Rourke cousins, leading what looked like every curly-coat in the village.

"Coaxtl tells us you've been hunting, Aoifa Rourke," Clodagh said. "I hope you caught game enough to feed all of these while you were at it."

Watching the newcomers trying to mount the curlies made 'Cita feel as though she was not the only one who was ignorant and clumsy. The woman Portia had to leave her scantily clad legs open to the snow while her short skirt rode up to her waist as she mounted, a detail not lost on the male Rourke cousins.

The men who came with metal sticks were angry when they found their sticks gone, especially when Coaxtl and Nanook appeared alongside the curlies to guide them.

"I told you!" one of the men said to the other. "Cats as big as horses! I told you. That's what that fellow said and it's true. Wouldn't that pelt make a magnificent rug?"

Coaxtl coughed and Clodagh said, "No, Coaxtl, they're guests."

"Did it talk to you?" the third man asked.

"Oh, yes. Coaxtl and Nanook and the other track-cats can be very eloquent, but sometimes not very nice."

"What did it say?" Brother Schist asked. 'Cita, who generally understood Coaxtl very well, thought that the cat had merely coughed.

But Clodagh said to the hunter, "Coaxtl says your pelt is too thin and hairless to be good for much of anything."

It took a long time to return to Kilcoole, what with having to make sure everyone stayed mounted. Poor curlies! 'Cita thought. She'd have to go gather some of the late carrots from everyone's gardens to give them a treat after this.

"Are you the mayor or the governor or whatever of this town we're going to?" the man-who-didn't-like-Portia asked Clodagh.

"I'm Clodagh."

"Clodagh!" Portia stopped groaning. "You're the one I wanted to speak with then. The medicine woman, right?"

Clodagh shrugged.

"Look, I'm prepared to make you an offer for your formulas and all the ingredients you can supply. That's just for now, of course, while we're in the development stage. Later on, when we've located the sources, we'll need to know the best places to set up our operations."

"Are you sick?" Clodagh asked.

"No, of course not, though I'm getting sick of being on this stupid horse, but-"

"You are the planet's handmaiden!" Sister Igneous Rock screeched at Clodagh, interrupting Portia and scaring the curlies. She jumped down from her mount and ran forward to Clodagh's curly-coat, grabbed Clodagh's hand in both of hers, and began weeping over it. "Oh, hpw I have longed to meet you since first we were given word of this miraculous place!"

"When was that?" Clodagh asked.

"About six weeks ago," Brother Shale said. "And believe me, since then Sister Igneous Rock has worked wonders forming our order. Why, she came straightaway and told me and the others, and we all knew at once that Petaybee was just what we'd been looking for. We had a little study group before, you know, about the evils of the universe and how to get back to what was natural and real-we tried talking to Terra, but it wasn't very responsive. Then, when Brother Granite told us about the Beneficence and how it caused Ruin to the Abominations Wrought Upon It by the Unworthy, well, we had to come see for ourselves."

"When can we see the evidence of Petaybee's wrath, Mother Clodagh?" Brother Schist asked.

" 'Scuse me," Clodagh said with a snort. "I don't have any kids."

"Please pardon our brother," Sister Igneous Rock said. "We mean that you are the spiritual mother of our order. Brother Granite told us of your wondrous bond with the Beneficence."

"What's that?"

"I think they mean the planet, Clodagh," 'Cita offered. People called it so many different things. The Shepherd Howling had reviled the planet and called it the Great Beast and said it was a man-eating monster, Coaxtl simply called it the Home, and Uncle Sean and Clodagh called it Petaybee, for the initials Pee, Tee, Bee, which also stood for Powers That Be, the local name for Intergal, the company that had first settled the planet. 'Cita thought that, of all of the names, Coaxtl's made the most sense.

"Why didn't they say so, then?" Clodagh asked. At once, all the white robes dismounted and prostrated themselves on the ground so that Clodagh's curly almost stepped on them, and loudly apologized and begged for forgiveness. They were coated by another layer of snow by the time the Rourke cousins got them to their feet and onto their curlies again.

Clodagh just shook her head. "Cheechakos," she said.

"What's that?" 'Cita asked. Her own Flock had many Spanish words and Asian words in their language, but here in Kilcoole, the people used some words in the old Irish tongue and some in the Inuit and Native American tongues of their ancestors.

"A cheechako is a newcomer, child."

"Like me?"

"No, because you're from Petaybee. You're used to the cold and all. A person is a cheechako until they've lived here from freeze-up to thaw. If they live through the winter, they know if they want to stay or go away."

"But the Beneficence helps you get through winters, doesn't it, Moth- Clodagh?" Sister Agate asked, a tad anxiously. "It surely doesn't kill anyone. From what Brother Granite said, it provides for all!"

Clodagh rolled her eyes and said to 'Cita, "This could be a real long winter."

Sean Shongili was tempted to say "Look what the cats dragged in" when Clodagh, 'Cita, and the Rourkes, with curlies and felines, in escort of the most recently landed visitors, stopped in front of Yana's cabin that afternoon.

The newcomers, when sorted, turned out to be representatives of two rival pharmaceutical firms whose requests for interviews were allegedly somewhere in the stack of paperwork; three more hunters; four members of what seemed to be a newly formed religious cult wishing, sight unseen, to worship Petaybee; and eleven other people who claimed to believe they had long-lost family members living on the planet somewhere.

Sean sent 'Cita after Sinead, who came and took the hunters in tow to put them with the others she had previously captured. He told the drug company representatives firmly that they would have to go through company channels for any patents on medicines. As Intergal had first ter-raformed and settled Petaybee, it had prior claim to any economic windfalls the planet might generate. Any credits, that is, left over from what Intergal might decide to charge the planet for what had already been done to "improve" it up to Intergal standards, whatever they were. The religious cult and the so-called relatives required different handling.

"There are Monaghans living over at Shannonmouth," Sean told the lady who had asked. "I can send word to them that you're here, and maybe they'll come to see you in a couple of weeks."

"Two weeks! But I only have two weeks!" she said. "I've already taken a week of my vacation getting here."

Sean just told her he'd do what he could, and privately decided to have a word with Whit about having Johnny Greene stop off to leave word with the Monaghans the next time he was over Shannonmouth. But with the other relative-seekers listening, he didn't want to make a promise aloud.

"Just show us the way to the hotel and we'll find our own transportation tomorrow," said the man who was looking for the Valdez family.

"There's no hotel," Sean said.

"Well, then, where are we supposed to stayT the drug representative, Portia Porter-Pendergrass, demanded.

He took two deep breaths before answering. "Don't you think you should have taken that up with the people who provided you transportation to the surface?"

She shrugged off what he considered a very pertinent question and answered with what he recognized as a bald-faced lie of convenience. "They indicated there should be no problem. It's not as if we can't pay."

"That's not the issue," he told her, and gestured grandly around the paper-engulfed cabin. "This," he said, "is the governor's mansion, if you will. The other houses are no bigger. SpaceBase is still out of commission from the quake, or I'd send you there. I'm afraid no house in Kilcoole can accommodate more than two of you at a time, and even that's going to crowd folks. It's not too cold yet, though, so there're probably extra blankets enough to go round and floor space by the fire."

"Very well," Portia said. "I'll stay with Clodagh."

"Not so fast," said Bill Guthrie, from the rival drug company. "If you stay with her, so do I."

"You will both stay where I tell you to," Sean said severely. "My niece, Buneka, isn't using her shack right now. You, Mr. Guthrie, and you, Mr. Valdez, can stay there. Seamus, if you wouldn't mind staying over at the Maloneys', I'll bunk Miss Porter-Pendergrass in with Moira and the kids."

The male Rourke cousins looked very cheered at that.

"You gentlemen," he nodded to the five men who claimed to be looking for relatives named Tsering, Romancita, Menendez, Furey, and O'Dare, "can stay with Steve Margolies and Frank Metaxos. There's only the two of them with Diego gone, and they've got more floor space than most because they haven't been here long enough to fill it up yet. As for you ladies..." He looked rather hopelessly into the apprehensive faces of the women who introduced themselves as Una Monaghan, Ilyana Sal-vatore, Dolma Chang, Susan Tsering, and Furey's wife, Wild Star. "I'll have to see."

"Excuse me, Governor Shongili." Una Monaghan stuck up her hand like a schoolchild.

"Dama?"

"Well, it seems to me we're causing you a lot of trouble. I never meant to, actually. It was just when that man suggested that I might find some of my people... well, I'm an orphan, you see, and my family line on TerraD died out and, well, what I mean to say is, it looks like you could use help here and I am a file clerk and if it's going to be an awfully long wait, well-"

"Me, too," Susan Tsering said. "I can file, too. You look like you need help with this office."

"I don't suppose any of you people are teachers?" Sean asked hopefully.

"I am," Wild Star Furey said. "I've been company librarian on Minne-homa Station for the last nine years, and I've helped Petaybean and other colonial recruits learn the basics when they come on active duty."

Sean smiled for the first time. "Then, ladies, I will find a place to stay myself and you may take over the gubernatorial mansion."

There was a meow from the top of a stack of papers. "With the help of the resident paperweight. This is Marduk. He lives here."

"What a nice kitty!" Una Monaghan said.

"But Governor Shongili, what of us? When shall we, how shall we, where shall we meet with the Beneficence?" Sister Igneous Rock asked. Sean had to hand it to the white robes. They had been very patient and quiet throughout the proceedings.

"You're the ones who should stay with Clodagh," he decided, knowing that he was probably going to regret it.

6

Brother Granite did not have to go far to find the believers he sought. Many people were already searching for something better, something they didn't have, something to lift them out of the ordinariness of their lives, to put them in touch with greatness. What could be greater than an all-knowing, all-powerful, all-embracing planet? Even Dr. Luzon, who had been very difficult for Petaybee to convince, recognized that precept now. That was why Dr. Luzon had sent him forth, to spread the news to those in need of hope. "Braddock, my boy, I was in error," Dr. Luzon had said from his hospital bed. "That planet is indeed sentient. I mocked it, and it rose up against me." "Oh, Doctor, I'm so glad you agree," Braddock had said with considerable relief. "I, er, came to the same conclusion." "Well, of course you did. You're a very perceptive fellow. That's why you have my trust. And you do have it, son. In fact, now that we know the truth about Petaybee, hallowed be its name, it occurs to me that our doubts may have been for a very special reason, that we may have been where we were, when we were, for a very special purpose." "Protecting the company's interests..." A look of annoyance momentarily crossed the doctor's high brow and ascetic mouth. His expression changed so quickly that Braddock felt that the doctor had probably suffered a twinge of pain. After all, he had been severely injured in the earthquake. "No, my boy, I mean an even higher purpose. We were doubters and we were made to believe in the positive force of Petaybee. I see now that we were put on the spot as witnesses. It is our duty now to go forth among other worlds and spread this news to others. Indeed, it is up to us to make sure that others are able to contact Petaybee so that Petaybee can expand its influence beyond those few insular settlers we met."

"But, sir, I didn't get the impression that any more people were wanted."

"Not by the settlers, perhaps. They wish to keep the wonder to themselves, to have Petaybee serve them alone. As for the planet, because its people are selfish, it has had little opportunity to expand its influence to others. That is our purpose."

"Ours, sir?"

"As I have lain here, reviewing all that happened to us on Petaybee, I have reached some inescapable conclusions, besides those I have just imparted to you. One is that I must use my resources and facilities to help, in as selfless a way as possible, to expiate my sin to Petaybee. However, my physical condition"-he waved his hand at his legs, stretched before him on the bed-"prevents me from taking as active a part as I would like. There is also the fact that my name and my connection with the company might be construed as a conflict of interest in what I propose we do. Therefore, so that association does not stand in the path of my expiation, I must begin by firing you."

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand, sir," Braddock said cautiously. Normally, if the doctor was unhappy with him, he had no problem figuring out exactly where he had failed his employer. But the doctor had not given him any indication that would cause Braddock to anticipate being fired. Why, even the beaming, kindly expression on his intelligent face did not look like the expression of someone who was firing someone else.

"Only so that you will no longer be associated with me, of course," Dr. Luzon said hastily, noticing Braddock's confusion. "In fact, I don't even want it known that I am setting you up in a business that will facilitate our mutual desire to help people discover the magic of Petaybee."

Braddock gawked at his erstwhile employer.

"You see, Braddock, I am going to set you up in business. The transport business. So that you can travel easily throughout this star system and all others controlled by the company."

"You are, sir?" Then the light slowly dawned on him. "Ah! So that I can tell others about the planet, sir?"

"That's it, Braddock. Absolutely correct. You will form a company which will enable you to enable those searching for the nirvana which only Petaybee can provide to reach the planet. A transport company. Now then, I know a thing or two about how people's minds work, how to discreetly encourage them to do the right thing. Some people we will be able to attract simply by appealing to what interests them. The wealth of animal life on the planet, for instance, should appeal to sportsmen. And of course, there will be financiers hoping to benefit by the company's necessary withdrawal. We are not playing favorites here. We'll carry anyone who can pay the fare. But there are others who will want to come because they have relations there, from whom they were separated during the company's relocation programs following land purchases after the various Terran wars. But many, Braddock, will simply hunger for a greater truth, a higher purpose, than any they have known. They must have a leader they can follow. You, Braddock, will become that leader, but not as Braddock Makem..."

Thus the PTS transport company was conceived.

Thus Brother Granite received his name and his instruction in the sort of language to use in bringing the truth about Petaybee to other worlds.

And it was good.

Gal Three-Several days later

This whole CIS thing wasn't working out the way Diego had thought it would, but he was glad he'd come along anyway, just to keep Bunny's head straight, if nothing else. Marmie was a nice lady and all that, but he could have done without the niece and nephew. The nephew was way too nice to Bunny, and the niece kept trying to get her to act and dress like shipside girls. Diego liked her the way she was already.

He had looked forward to her reactions to the advanced gadgetry that was part of shipboard life and had imagined her repairing something she hadn't known existed until then, but every time he started pointing something out, Charmion got bored and suggested going to the fancy gymnasium where Bailey impressed Bunny and depressed Diego, who had never been a jock, with his gymnastic prowess.

And he couldn't really say anything about it to Bunny. She was like some little kid who'd never seen candy before. He, of course, was already pretty familiar with all this stuff, though neither of his parents had ever inhabited the same lofty circles as Marmion Algemeine. But Bunny, who couldn't imagine doing anything athletic in less than sixteen layers of down and fur, was easily swayed and tried very hard to learn what Bailey and Charmion had been doing all their lives. Meanwhile, Marmion and her crew were keeping the colonel entertained and as busy as possible, but Diego could tell that Yana was getting a little antsy when they'd been there a week and the CIS hearing still hadn't convened. Every day he got up thinking, Today we'll do what we came here for. Yana will tell them how it is and Bunny will speak for the planet and maybe I'll sing them my song, and then we'll go home. He should have known better. His dad was always complaining about how long it took the brass to move on anything significant.

There was one delay after another. Anaciliact was away on another assignment, and Farringer Ball, who represented the company's interests, had been stricken with a mysterious illness that was sweeping through the upper echelons of the power structure on other stations. Ball normally inhabited Gal Three, but had been away conferring with the leaders of other terraformed colonies when the illness struck.

That was the scuttlebutt, anyway-the details were being kept fairly hush-hush. Not that Diego cared, except for the inconvenience it was causing him. While his father's recent illness made him pity anyone who was very sick, Farringer Ball had never seemed particularly human to him. Trust a bigwig to show his only signs of humanity just when it would royally screw it up for everyone else. Diego wondered what would happen next to detain them.

The colonel was anxious, too, he could tell. One day she and Sally swung by to collect Bunny on the way to the doctor. Yana was getting checked for her pregnancy and she wanted to see if Bunny was having any problem being cut off from the planet.

When she returned, Bunny was oddly quiet, and fingered the little bag of Petaybean dirt that now looked so incongruous with the modern fuchsia- and teal-striped bodytight.

"How'd it go, Bun?" he asked her.

"Okay," she said. "The doctor says my immune system should hold up a few more years and my brown fat deposit isn't large enough yet to make me uncomfortable off-planet. After I'm about twenty or so, though, I won't be able to leave for very long, ever, or I'll end up like Lavelle."

"So what? You don't want to leave Petaybee anyway, do you?"

"Not for good, no, but Charmion asked me to come to her family's chalet in the Strigian Alps sometime to help her set up a dog team and ski. She showed me pictures and it's really beautiful there-all these beautiful houses, and there's flowers all the time, even when the mountains are covered in snow. It's not that I want to leave Petaybee, really. It's just that I want to be able to if-you know, if I want to."

"Not me," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "I've been lots of places, and Petaybee is the best." "Sure it is," she said. "But at least you got to pick."

You'll get a chance to wear those formal clothes this evening," Marmion said, emerging from her office to the main room, where her guests were lounging. They had spent the morning exploring yet another level, as well as making another visit to the extensive gymnasium that so fascinated Bunny. Marmion was delighted with the way Bailey and Charmion were filling their days on Gal Three, and the youngsters all appeared to like each other, though young Diego seemed rather quiet at times, and for the last day or two Bunny had been less bubbly than usual.

Once Yana and Bunny had been assured by a visit to Marmion's personal physicians that their absence from Petaybee was causing harm neither to them nor to Yana's unborn child, Yana had relaxed considerably. Afterward, Sally had induced Yana to enjoy some of the beauty treatments available on Second Level. But, even with so much to do, the continual delays in convening the CIS hearing were irritating and nerve-racking.

Distraction on a grander scale was needed, Marmion decided.

Calling for the attention of her guests, she waved a sheaf of messages in her hand. "We could go to a party on every single level. How do they find out so quickly that I'm back?" The question was rhetorical. "But I've chosen just the one for us," she went on. "A sort of welcome for a new executive in..." She peered down at the sheet in her hand. "Oh, Rothschild's. So everyone who is anybody on Gal Three will come, but that limits the attendance nicely."

"It does?" Yana asked, raising her eyebrows in surprised amusement.

"Certainly. There aren't that many 'anybodies' on Gal Three at the moment." Marmion gave a trill of her delightful laughter. "I already checked the guest list and most of them are the sort of people I'd like you to meet anyway while you're here. So that's settled. We'll leave at 2030 hours. All right? And everyone dressed in your finest."

Bunny and Diego groaned, while Bailey and Charmion looked quite pleased.

"That'll be loads of fun," Charmion said, and turned to encourage Bunny and Diego. "This'll be much nicer than you know. More like what you were describing as a latchkay, only Gal Three style."

"People sing?"

"The ones who are paid to," Charmion said. "But if you want to join in, no one will object."

"Could I see you a moment, Yana?" Marmion asked, gesturing politely for Yana to join her in her office.

The "social lady" side of Marmion disappeared the moment the panel slid shut behind Yana. Marmion seated herself at a desk that was neatly piled with disks and varicolored flimsies while three screens behind her scrolled detailed reports, graphs, and tables of figures.

"Too many people know I have just returned from Petaybee," she said, rattling her fingers on the intricately inlaid wood of the desktop. "Far, far too many people have been apprised of everything-everything-about Petaybee. Anaciliact holoed in from this emergency mission of his, and when I told him what's been happening he was livid-if you can imagine that consummate diplomat in such a state." Marmion rose and began pacing the room, head down, one arm across her chest supporting the other as she rubbed her forehead. "I was right to give you that safety disk, and right to assign you guardians. All of you. I must remember to assign a few to myself," she added with an impish grin. "Though with the security available on Gal Three, they might end up stumbling over each other while we're dragged off through a service hatch or something." Her smile indicated how unlikely that was.

"If you're concerned about Petaybee, Marmion, don't be," Yana said, hoping to relieve her unusual anxiety.

"I don't worry about Petaybee at all, Yana," Marmion replied. "It has proved well able to take care of itself. It's all the-the types that are homing in on it. There simply aren't the facilities to cope with them, and I'm sure that's one of the reasons they've been sent." She frowned.

"You mean to discredit Sean's abilities as administrator?"

"Precisely."

"Did you happen to hear how soon the meeting we're due at is going to convene?" Yana, too, didn't wish Sean inundated with problems when he had no one trained to help. Even, and especially, Petaybee.

"Not soon enough," Marmion said in what was for her a harsh voice. She flung up her hands in frustration. "I don't think it's all delaying tactics, and, of course, Farringer Ball is quite legitimately ill, some sort of a virus he contracted, so we do have to wait on his return to good health." She made a little moue of concern over that delay. "However, Intergal has conceded-well, CIS has forced them to concede-that the planet has prior rights to its mineral and metal wealth and anything else that might be valuable. They're pulling out-as fast as they can." She made a face. "That's unlike them, too. But then, they've never had a planet to face as an opponent. Must make a difference. No bribery will work in this instance."

"Must make it very difficult for Intergal to change its modus operandi."

Marmion grinned and chuckled. "If only you knew... But then," she said more briskly, "you probably do."

"Not on the level you do, Marmion."

"Now, tonight," the financier went on, "there are certain people I'd like you to talk to."

"You mean, show me off to?"

"Well, that, too." Marmion flicked her fingers at Yana's qualification. "You're the best spokesperson Petaybee could have."

"Not Bunny? When she's lived there all her life?"

"Her ingenuousness may be useful, to a degree, but you're a military person with experience on many planets and situations. Your remarks will carry more weight. Also, these are the people Petaybee should get to know for the clout they have in intergalactic research and development." She added quickly when she saw Yana frown, "The good kind, not the search-and-strip types of operations. It may well constitute a challenge to them, you see, and they need challenges."

" 'Life gets ted-jus, don't it?' " Yana asked with a fake yawn.

Marmion grinned. "Precisely. Been there, done that, seen this."

"Care to give me a briefing?"

"It's all here," Marmion said, handing Yana a disk. "I have compiled vital statistics on all my peers. Some of them are even nice." Then she saw Yana's surprised expression and made a little face. "Well, they have them on me! Must keep track of the competition. Have a listen, and then if you've any questions-oh, blast it!" she exclaimed as her screen bleeped the Urgent code. Yana waved at her and left the room, a departure she sensed Marmion would appreciate.

Gal Three

\Vhen Yana entered with Marmion, she gasped at the splendor of their host's incredible lounge, with its vaulting roof of clear plasglas opening onto the stars and all "outdoors," as she thought of it. Behind her, she heard Bunny's reaction, more trenchant disgust than amazement. She smiled to herself, thinking that Bunny would not be easily corrupted by the beauties of her new environment even if she was being more subtly wooed by its gadgetry and mechanicals.

Their hostess, so suavely elegant that Yana was more than relieved to be as well attired, undulated over to them, both hands held out to Mar-mion. They exchanged pecks to the air over their cheeks, and then Yana was introduced to Pleasaunce Ferrari-Emool.

"You might have heard of Ples's company, Yana, Nova Bene Drugs..."

"Only you, Marmie, could have stolen the march on that one," cooed Pleasaunce, eyeing Yana, her cold glance taking in every fold of the gown and the single crystal pendant that Marmie had insisted Yana wear. A delicately arched eyebrow twitched, and Yana wondered just how much the bauble was worth. Plenty, to judge by the cold glint in the woman's eyes. "And how deee-vine to welcome you in person, Colonel Maddock-Shongili."

"How gracious of you to include us in your little party, Lady Ferrari-Emool," Yana replied, doing the peck-in-the-air bit as if she had never done anything else to greet friends.

She caught Marmion's delighted but surprised expression out of the corner of her eye. Yana had felt damned foolish practicing both the salute and the names in front of her mirror ever since Marmion had announced that they were attending this party. But it paid off, as any good briefing did.

The hostess had paid attention to her social secretary, too, for she got out Diego's suddenly doubled name of Etheridge-Metaxos and Bunny's Rourke without a quaver. She did not, of course, greet Sally or Millard as effusively, but did gracefully wave them in the direction of the vast spread of refreshments.

"Now you must meet the guest of honor," Pleasaunce said, linking an arm with Marmion and leading the way into the cluster of gorgeously attired men and women. She pushed her way through the crowd so smoothly that few could have taken offense; there were one or two querulous glances at being displaced-until the displacer was recognized.

"Macci, darling, you simply must meet Marmion de Revers Algemeine and her guests, Colonel Yanaba Maddock-Shongili, Buneka Rourke, and Diego Etheridge-Metaxos, all from that incredible new world which, it transpires, is sentient. All by itself."

Macci, who hadn't exactly welcomed his hostess's interruption-he'd been talking to two adoring young women-now let the full force of a Charm 9 smile break across his sculpted features. When the two girls moved slightly away, Yana could see that he wore one of the very fashionable SecondSkins, a shimmering tight-fitting garment that only the very athletically trim could wear to advantage. And he did-though he wore a discreet-if decorative-loincloth where some of the other guests let everything hang out. He had a body almost as magnificent as Sean's, a centimeter or two taller and broader through the shoulders: not bad, actually, she had to admit.

"I know Marmie," he said, giving her a paternal kiss on her forehead while his eyes locked on to the other three.

When he took Yana's hand, she experienced a sort of electric shock in the contact that surprised her, handfasted as she was to Sean Shongili and with every intention of staying that way. But the man was unfairly laden with such charisma that Yana reached for the locket under her dress and pressed it hard. Macci-she heard Pleasaunce listing his pedigree-Ma-chiavelli (no less) Sendal-Archer-Klausewitch. And the woman rolled it off her tongue trippingly.

"What did your parents ever have in mind when they saddled you with that mess?" Yana heard herself saying. She knew she was being terribly gauche, but she resented the effect his magnetism had on her.

"Trying to win relative favor," Macci said. He squeezed her hand in a very practiced and sexy manner, but let her have it back the moment she pulled away. "We were the cadet branch, you see."

"Ah! Still?"

"The family motto is 'We Shall Contrive,' " he replied, and his deep blue eyes danced down at her.

"I'd say you're a practiced hand at that," she said, wanting to laugh because she couldn't believe she was playing this sort of game. Then she realized that it was a game, and even if he was a much more versatile and accomplished player than she'd ever be, it could be fun!

"I do my possible." And he laughed with her.

"Oh, dear Macci, we won't detain you further," Pleasaunce said archly, and importunately drew both Yana and Marmion away from his enchanted circle. "There are so many other people who're dying to meet you."

They might have been dying to meet her, but she damned near died of the boredom of repeating herself: Yes, she came from Petaybee; yes, the planet was sentient; no, the planet did not ask or answer questions; no, she hadn't had vile nightmares and been visited by strange thoughts; yes, the planet was cold and had very little in the way of technology because the cold banjaxed equipment; yes, everyone was healthy there and lived long lives; yes, it was possible it was the healthy diet; and no, she wouldn't recommend it as a holiday resort-in the summer the insects ate you alive and in the winter you could easily freeze to death. No, that didn't sound like a friendly place but it was, and yes, the planet really was friendly, too, despite its weather, which wasn't precisely the planet's fault. No, the Planetary Terraform B process was not at fault. Petaybee was unique as far as planets went.

It went on all night, until the smile on her face felt pasted on and she was glad when Marmion signaled that they could leave.

7

The next morning Yana couldn't remember the names of any of the people she had met, with the exception of the flirtatious and flamboyant Macci: they had all blended into such an identical blur. Their faces, their voices, their apparel had had a sameness that made identifying one from the other very difficult. Yana did remember the things she had eaten and the wines she had drunk, but the people? And those had been the ones who were important on Gal Three? It seemed strange to her that no one had appeared to want to talk about anything remotely "significant," considering they were persons whom Marmion had said were important for her to meet. When not avidly questioning her, they had gossiped about the people who hadn't been invited. Yana hoped that she'd never hear what was said about her or anyone else in Marmion's group. Petaybee was coming up more and more golden and real! She was not the only one silent this morning. Bunny was slouched over her morning meal, and the measure of her discomfort was registered by the fact that she was wearing one of the outfits that Marmion had originally provided for her, rather than some of the Gal Three finery Charmion had urged her to purchase. She was moodily staring out the lounge window at the comings and goings of station vehicles, tugs, and the incoming traffic of all kinds. Yana decided not to show Bunny the comm message from Sean, which asked Yana to see if Marmion could check out a firm trading as PTS, Petyabee Tourist Service, which was so busily landing new problems in his lap. People were being dumped back of beyond, wanting hotel facilities, of all things, and he was running out of places to stash them and food to feed them. Could this influx of unwanted and generally useless self-seekers please be stopped, he wanted to know. To which Johnny Greene, who had sent the message from the space station on Whit Fiske's credit, had added a devout "amen."

"Can we find out about these yabos, Millard?" Yana asked as soon as she had read the message. But she took the tone of the message as 1) amused, 2) coping, and 3) asking why she was staying away so long.

Millard glanced at the message, made a note on his wrist pad, and smiled down at her. "Sure thing."

"Hey, looka that," Diego said suddenly, pointing to a line of drones that were being shepherded by little space tugs.

Millard smiled. "Ah, the collies at work."

"Why're they called that?" Bunny asked.

"Watch how they herd the ships in," Millard said. "Their names are actually the Megabite and the Maggie Louder, but we call them Meggie and Maggie."

The speedy work vessels did indeed seem to be nipping at the skids of the drones, angling them into the correct alignment with their ultimate destination on the lower docking circle. But he was specifically pointing to the sleek, taper-ended vessel, clearly no drone, nearly the last one on the long drone tether. "I wonder what holed that."

"Meteor, probably," Millard replied, looking up and frowning slightly at the company the obvious spacecraft was keeping.

"Looks big enough to have been holed by a shuttle craft," Diego said. "And a big one at that."

"Would the crew have survived such a holing?" Bunny asked, coming out of her slump long enough to peer about.

"Depends on the speed with which the crew reacted to the disaster," Millard said.

"Cost a pretty pile of credits to fix it, I'll bet," Diego said.

"Someone who can afford a craft that size has the credit," Sally said. "This is the biggest repair facility in the quadrant, so they'd have to come here for that sort of major restoration."

The collies bracketed the nose of the vessel now, maneuvering it carefully down half a degree, to port another fraction, and then forward slowly until it moved out of sight from their viewpoint.

"Wonder what happened to it," Bunny said.

"We could go see," Diego suggested.

"Could we?" she asked, brightening and turning to Millard.

"Bailey has some cronies down in the ship dock," Millard said. Their faces fell. "You really will have to wait until Bailey and Charmion are available," he said, and then his wrist set bleeped. "Excuse me."

He read the message that came in, then turned to Yana. "This is interesting. The PTS is newly registered as a tourist transport in the civilian section of the Intergal Station. A 'B. Makem' is listed as owner."

"B. Makem?" Yana blinked. The name was somehow familiar, but after last night's inundation of names, she couldn't put the name to a face.

"Braddock Makem?" Sally asked in a startled tone as she looked up from the report she was working on.

"One of Matthew's little men?"

"He isn't one of Dr. Luzon's men anymore," Sally said. "Luzon fired him. Scuttlebutt is that when Luzon woke up with broken legs, loss of pride, and that massive deflation of ambition, he fired the lot of them."

Yana grinned. "Anything else, Millard?"

"Funding's low, but it's got a waiting list and paid passages for twenty on each of three weekly scheduled flights from Intergal Station."

Yana gasped. "There isn't room at Kilcoole for twenty extra bodies, much less a hundred and twenty. What is Makem up to?"

"I'd hazard Makem isn't up to anything," Millard said, his eyes narrowing, "but I'd suspect Matthew Luzon is. Does Sean say who's been landed?"

Just then Marmion came into the room, a flimsy in her hand and a look of total exasperation on her face.

"Once again, there can be no meeting," she said, waving the sheet.

"But Phon Tho was coming back this morning. He said we'd hear today," Yana said in protest.

"We did," Marmion said grimly, with another crisp flutter of the message. "But not at all what we hoped to hear. Really, I think we are just going to have to do something." She tapped her index finger across her lips and then brightened. "Of course! We will put it about that you're leaving!"

"But-but what good will that do?" Yana asked, almost wailing with disappointment. Of course, she wanted to be back with Sean, to help him with these unexpected visitors-if only to shove them off-planet as fast as they arrived. She was feeling deprived. She hadn't finally married herself again to spend her time away from the man of her heart and the father of her child. But she didn't want to have to come back here again whenever the CIS Council finally got its act together and all its members in attendance, just so she, Bunny, and Diego could say their piece and have it done with.

"Well, as long as they think you'll just sit about and wait for them to organize themselves, that's what they'll do," Marmion said, then paused thoughtfully, regarding the flimsy as if there were unseen lines there that required decoding. "Though why this delay when they were so bloody eager to get you here in the first place... And we came as fast as anyone can... Hmmm. Well, they do have the depositions to work from..."

"Something's rotten in Denmark?" Sally asked.

"If it were on Denmark, I wouldn't give it a second thought. But this is Gal Three... And it was presented to me as an in-and-out appearance." Giving her shoulders a massive shrug, Marmion returned to her office.

"Why," Yana asked the room, "would B. Makem want to start trouble for us on Petaybee? I thought we'd opened his eyes to that erstwhile employer of his."

"Yes," Millard said thoughtfully, and began to tap out codes on his terminal. "We'll just see."

Yana began pacing restlessly, fretting about Sean. He'd have so much more to do now with who knows how many people foisted off on Petaybee. She reread the communiqu6, her free hand going automatically to the little bag of Petaybean dirt that generally provided her with comfort as she tried to get more of Sean than the words were conveying. Even if Johnny Greene had sent the message, it was from Sean and by Sein, and therefore it was Sean, and she gathered what comfort she could out of that contact. It was stupid of her, at her age, to need the man so desperately, and yet she did. Here she was in the lap of luxury, be:ng scrupulously cared for and pampered and wined and dined, and not likng it a bit simply because Sean wasn't there to share the absurdities with her -like Macci and his SecondSkin and loin clout. Sean would have looted just as well in such attire-probably better, since he had a second skin of his own, if it came to that. The memories that thought provoked nude her smile, and she nibbled at the edge of the message, until she realized what she was doing. She really was being ungrateful, especially when Marmion was going out of her way to be so accommodating and helpful. Not that she didn't appreciate it all-but she had managed to get accustomed to the discomforts of Petaybee! Now she'd have to learn to love them all over again. It would be snowing soon, and she'd miss it, End freeze-up and all the other wonders of Petaybee that she hadn't yet experienced firsthand. She resented her absence terribly, and that reminded her of who might be responsible for all the delays.

"Do you know where Matthew Luzon is right now?" she asked, stopping and turning to survey those in the lounge. "And where are Diego and Bunny, for that matter?" she asked Sally and Millard, and asked the same question of Bailey and Charmion, who entered at that critical moment.

"Must be around here somewhere," Millard said, swiveling about as if the two had to be in the lounge, visible or invisible.

At that precise moment, there was a request for entry, and a resonant voice announced, "Macci Sendal."

Sally and Millard exchanged astonished glances.

"You made a conquest, Yana," Sally said, grinning. "Shall I admit him?"

Yana was flustered. "Whatever would he want with me?"

"I suspect business," Sally said. "After all, Rothschild's has always diversified. I don't recall them having any pharmaceuticals, though."

"Yes, they do," Millard replied. "They have recently acquired a major holding in SpayDe."

"You're quite right." Sally hurried to press the door release. "I'll just replicate some refreshments."

Despite the fact that the man was wearing more normal station apparel instead of the formal SecondSkin, he was as devastating as ever as he came forward to greet Yana. He had a small posy for her and smiles for Sally, Millard, and Marmion's young relatives, and he accepted Sally's invitation for midmorningses even as he led Yana, still holding the hand he had kissed so extravagantly, to one of the smaller seating arrangements on one side of the large room. Sally passed the refreshments and then, to Yana's amazement, left her with him. He bent a lambent gaze on her, ravishing her with his eyes, which was disconcerting to say the least. Had he been another officer, she'd have known how to handle the situation, but he was too highly placed in society as well as financial circles for her to use those forthright tactics.

"Now, tell me more about this magical planet you come from, Yana. There was no chance to discuss anything intelligent with you last night. Especially when Pies was acting hostess." He caught her eyes with another of his ravishing glances-she did wish he wouldn't-and she felt herself flushing at the ardor he was projecting. Really, it was much too early in the morning-or did she mean too late?-for this sort of...foreplay. He was leaning forward toward her now, and she reflected that the scent he was using oughtn't to be allowed, it was so aphrodisiacal.

She had opened her mouth to answer when the entry chime rang again. And continued to ring with each new arrival: others who had attended the party who now wished to discuss business with Yana. Yana urgently motioned Sally and Millard to join her, and then Sally brought Cynthia, and Cynthia thought that Marmion had better be involved.

"You dear people, Petaybee's only a small planet," Marmion'said, arriving not a moment too soon and instantly assessing the scene. "With very limited facilities, and it's certainly marvelous of you to volunteer"- that word stopped any conversation as the various representatives turned blank faces in her direction-"to help the colonel set up a modern depot." She smiled at the surprised reactions. "How good of you to offer. Mind you, who knows what a planet is willing to pay for such amenities, but it is a planet that is virtually untouched. Nakatira-san, I think you need to send at least five of those marvelous structural cubes to Petaybee, just to cope with the influx. Yana, you don't think Petaybee would mind an up-to-date self-catering hostel? No, two, I think: north and south."

By the time the bemused entrepreneurs got a chance to retreat, Marmion had made sure that each had signed a contract to deliver, at a cost to be discussed later with the planet, sufficient of their products to replace what Intergal was taking off-planet. And of a higher quality and more modern design.

"I think that about takes care of that, Yana, don't you?" Marmion said when the door to her suite finally closed on Macci's heels. "Macci didn't get you to sign anything, did he?" she asked.

Dazedly Yana shook her head. "But another two seconds and I'd've signed anything he put in front of me. Is he always like that?"

"He makes a habit of it. Dangerous man," Marmion said, "but you handled him very well, considering none of us expected him to appear quite so soon this morning." Then she made a full circuit of the room with her eyes. "Where did Bunny and Diego get to?"

Sally and Millard exchanged horrified glances. Marmion, however, was looking straight at Bailey and Charmion.

"Haven't seen them, Aunt Marmie," Bailey said. "We only just woke up when the mob arrived."

"While I don't blame them for a moment for leaving the babel-" Marmion broke off. "Where are they?"

8

The repair bay light was still on by the time Diego and Bunny reached the corridor. The light meant that the outer hatch was still opened and no unprotected personnel could enter. A skeleton crew, suited up with oxygen and grav boots, would shepherd new arrivals on board and tend to any emergency needs. Diego had observed such procedures on many stations before.

The light would go off when the outer bay door closed and the oxygen levels returned to normal. Then it was usually okay to go in and look around, if you kept out of the way. Right now the light was staying on for what seemed an unusually long time to Diego. He hoped there wasn't a radiation leak or some other problem that would prevent them from having a look-see. He also didn't want Charmion and Bailey appearing, bored as usual with what was commonplace to them, and taking Bunny off before she had a chance to see what really did interest her. He knew she'd enjoy observing actual repairs to a spacegoing vessel, but she sure wouldn't if Charmion was there to act as if it were all so boring and so grubby, while Bailey made another try at sweet-talking Bunny.

Just when he found he was getting bored by the interminable wait, the light went off. He tugged Bunny's hand. "Come on. Act like you belong here."

At that point the inside hatch irised open and six figures, still suited and helmeted, which was a little weird, emerged and headed down the corridor in the opposite direction from Bunny and Diego. As they disappeared, Diego said, "That's funny."

"What?"

"First thing folks usually do is crack open their helmets! Hmmm."

"Maybe they're coming right back," Bunny said. "I don't usually wear my parka and snowpants in the house either, but if I just have to go inside for a moment, it's easier not to take off all those clothes first."

Diego shrugged. "Yeah. Maybe."

But he peered through the viewport first. The derelict was alone in the repair bay, the outer hatch closed. The hole in her side was big enough to drive a good-sized shuttle through. He checked the dials on the lock.

"Well, there's oxygen inside, so maybe they just did go to get something, Bunny," he told her. "And no one's inside. So we can at least take a close look at that damage."

"Won't we need some kind of code to get through here? Or will the bracelet give us access?" Bunny asked.

That was a good question. He hadn't counted on the bay being empty. He'd planned to ask the repair crew, but they'd gone off. Generally crews didn't mind letting you look, if you asked first and kept out of the way.

But at the door, he was surprised to find that the iris still bore a pupil of space in its center where it hadn't completely closed. By sticking his hand and arm through the opening, he got it to enlarge enough to let a body squeeze through.

Bunny reached around him to one of the folds and touched something shiny. "This is caught."

"Can you use it to pry the door open a little more?" Diego asked.

"I think so," she said. Sure enough, when she had wiggled the bit around, the hatch creaked fully open. When they had both stepped through, Bunny pulled the object free and the hatch closed behind them, silently this time. There was a faint smell of singed protein in the air, the same smell Diego had noticed when the dentist drilled his teeth.

"Maybe I shouldn't have done that," she said with a backward glance. "We might need it to get out."

"Nah, the crew will be back pretty soon. Come on, let's see what holed the ship."

Their shoes clanked hollowly on the metal grid floor as they walked toward the lone ship squatting like a toad in the cavernous bay. "It's a queer shape, isn't it?" Bunny asked, whispering. "It doesn't look much like the other ones."

"Probably wasn't manufactured by an Intergal company," Diego said, dropping his own voice to the same level. Though why they were whispering he didn't know: their footsteps were loud enough to wake the next watch. "Maybe that's why people went to such trouble to drone it in: figure out its design capabilities or something. It's a derelict, for sure."

Bunny was slightly ahead of him, and she peered around the corner of the hole. "Uh-oh. Diego?"

"Yeah?"

"Look."

He looked over her, his chin resting on the top of her glossy black crown. The interior of the hull was not empty.

The hole sure had been big enough to fly a shuttle through, and that's just what somebody had done. A good-size shuttle-a twenty-seater at least, from what he could see-crouched inside the hull, wearing it like a disguise. Beside the shuttle lay the bodies of seven people clad only in their underwear.

Bunny turned over a woman who had been lying on her stomach. A burn hole had been drilled through the center of her forehead. A gingerly examination of the other bodies showed similar burn holes.

"Frag!" Diego breathed. He peered anxiously at the shuttle, but nobody stirred.

"Diego?" Bunny asked. "Why were these people killed?" Her voice had a plaintive note to it, and he thought that whatever the dangers provided by Petaybee's weather and conditions, mass murders didn't happen on Petaybee-at least not yet. She looked pale under the brilliant white lights of the bay. Shock, he thought, a little numb himself.

Then he thought: Think. "I'm not sure,garita, but I'm willing to bet the guys we saw in the space suits weren't crew. These guys were. And Gal Three just got boarded by unfriendlies. And if the legit repair crew were wearing security bracelets, then those... murderers are wearing them now. I think that we'd better tell Marmion, so she can alert that commander dude."

"You're right, Diego. That's what we'd real fast better do."

"There should be an alarm right here someplace..." he said, crossing to the far wall. But where the alarm activation mechanism had been was a large hole. He turned to look for the comm unit, but the screen was blank, the buttons dark.