I heard you say it. Kincaid, grinning mischievously from his couch, waggled his finger at her.

She couldn't stay angry with Rojer when Kincaid was in such a good mood.

A half hour later, in the midst of congratulating themselves on the 'portation of the KLTL, Lionasha received official notification that two more ships, one a large freighter (its tonnage was included in the information) and the other a passenger vessel, awaited teleportation.

"Have they been living on board just in case a planet was released: Laria demanded, lying back down on her couch.

"Wouldn't surprise me. Shouldn't surprise you, considering how overcrowded Clarf is right now," Kincaid said.

No sooner were those big ones shifted than three smaller units requested assistance from Clarf Tower. After them, two more of the big naval K-class ships reported readiness to be 'ported.

"Never even remotely suggest that our 'Dini allies are unprepared for any contingency that might rear its head," Lionasha said as Laria ant] Kincaid came down for a restorative drink after such heavy duties.

When a request to transport three more loaded freighters and two passenger ships came in, Vanteer had already left the Tower, and the others were eating a late supper.

"Get me Plrgtgl, Lio," Laria said, trying to keep her exasperation under control. Lionasha was nearer the Tower office.

"It's unavailable," Lio replied.

"Is Naciana still at the office?"

"It's her I'm talking to."

Laria 'ported the com unit out of Lionasha's hand. "Naciana, tell your boss no more tonight after this lot. And only one an hour tomorrow. Talavera's a long way to toss anything and there really is a limit to what this Tower can process in one day."

"I'll tell him." Naciana didn't sound too happy about it. 'Tve never seen them in such a frenzy. You'd think the planet would disappear . . ."

"It's more likely to get as crowded as Clarf with this rate of traffic. And have they brought enough food? There's nothing there, you know."

Oh, they know. That's what's on the three freighters. They do have to be sent as fast as possible, Laria . . ." Naciana let her voice trail off with a silent plea.

No more after these five until full daylight tomorrow. We have got to get some rest. I absolutely will not 'port when I've reached my limit. Rojer will be as tired at his end."

"I'll tell Plus," Naciana murmured in a deflated response to Laria's ultimatum.

"Mules we're not," Laria muttered darkly to Kincaid and Lionasha.

"Yes, we are. You just kicked!" Kincaid said, and at the sight of his roguish grin, some of her exasperation drained.

Rojer seemed in better spirits than Laria was when they touched minds again, but he had Primes and high Talents to assist.

That is absolutely the last delivery tonight, Rojer.

I should hope so, but they make quite a display orbiting Talavera. Or Tlvr, if you prefer. I am reliably informed that that's what it will now be called.

I prefer my bed right now, thanks, brother.

Until tomorrow then.

Laria made the barest formal acknowledgment, and rose wearily from her couch. Kincaid put a helpful arm around her waist as she gracelessly thumped down the steps ami turned toward her quarters.

"I did wonder if the 'Dini tongues would he up to 'Talavera,' " she murmured.

" 'Tlvr' is very "Dini-ish."

"Yes, it is."

It was Kincaid who pulled off her station boots, pushed her into the bed and drew the light cover over her.

Sleep well, my friend.

Laria yawned, turned on her side and was asleep.

The next day both Clarf and Sef Towers operated on all the power the generators could give them. Sef, with T-2's Yoshuk and N'esrun, handled the lighter shipping and much of the drone traffic. Clarf Prime 'ported one major ship an hour tor the next twelve, interspersed with message tubes and "urgently required" cartons of equipment which had not been ready to leave when the mass migration began. Almost as many

llj TIIEI m e m

messages came back in from Talavera within that hour frame as went out. 'Dinis were busy collecting and delivering tubes and cartons in response to the shower of messages.

The experts on the Columbia had recommended a wide valley near oneofTalavera's large inland lakes as the primary site. The land around it supported some vegetation and was pronounced arable and without the lethal trace elements that had been found near the queens' original installation. The water would have to be treated before it was potable by Humans or 'Dims, but it wouldn't harm the millions of plants being sent to begin the resurrection of the planet. The initial 'Dini swarm from Clarf and Sef managed miracles in their first forty hours on Talavera, assembling prefabricated headquarters buildings, living quarters, storage barns, ground vehicles and heavy earth-moving machinery, making landing cradles for all sizes of incoming drone deliveries as well as personnel carriers. A second swarm were planting and seeding large areas around the lake. A Tower was erected to one side of the landing field, with living accommodations for the Humans who would staff it.

Rojer, Roddie, Asia, Jesper Ornigo and Flavia's brother, Mallen, transferred down from the Columbia, leaving Flavia as Prime with Zara assisting until the Tower was fully operational. Rojer, Flavia and Zara had agreed to take turns as Prime. Morgelle had been returned to Earth to await reassignment. The ecological team—Dr. Tru Blairik, Mialla Evshenk, Rosenery Mordmann and Yakamasura—set up their camp to one side of the Tower. Without being asked, the 'Dini work teams arrived with additional housing units, offices and a field laboratory, and staffed the facility with trained 'Dini assistants by the same evening.

'They must have gone hyper to have all this ready to teleport so Quickly," Roddie said, eyes wide with amazement, when they arrived on what had so recently been empty land. "They even have shade trees for us."

All the comforts of home," Rojer said, grinning. "Even the sun," he , shielding his eyes from the glare of Talavera's primary.

"Not quite as bright as Clarfs," Roddie said, with a quick glance m the direction of the sunset. "Thank all the gods!"

"I envy Lam's tan," Asia said at Rojer's side.

"You be careful of the sun clown here, Asia," Rojer said, as usual assuming she needed his guidance.

"I have sunblock on, dear," she replied, unruffled. "Sec!" She made him examine the slight sheen the cream gave her clear complexion.

Rojer grumphed. "Just don't forget to put it on."

Jesper and Mal rolled their eyes and Roddie regarded Ro]er as it he-were slightly bereft ot common sense.

"As long as you do too, Rojer," Asia said in a sweet voice without a tinge of sarcasm.

Their effects neatly dropped into a pile just beyond them.

Thanks, Fiavia.

You're welcome, Roj, but please stop treating Asia as ij she was an imbecile. She's extremely competent, Fiavia added with a bit of asperity m her tone.

"1 know, I know. Let's get settled in, team," he said, and found his duffel. He would have taken Asia's as well, but she forestalled him and was already trudging up to the Tower quarters, Rojer's 'Dinis supporting the em! of her sack.

Dr. Blairik, whom Rojer found a pain in the neck, intercepted him before he could catch up with Asia.

"I really do feel, Prime Rojer, that we should have been informed that the 'Dinis were going to take mzi everything," he said, clearly disgruntled.

"Why? Because they're so highly organized:"

"Well, I would have expected to be consulted about my requirements . . ." Tru Blairik began sententious!)1.

"Is there anything wrong with the facility provided?" Ro]er asked.

"I haven't had time to really investigate . . ."

"Why don't you do so, and then we can rectify any problems, Rojer said, and quickly moved away from the astounded biologist. An indignant "Well, I never . . ." followed Ro]er into the Tower.

y 11 11 n i a n H h I n G M

"Good on you, Rojer," Rosenery Alordmann said, grinning. "Saw him corner you." She had a message tube. "When you've had a chance to settle in, I was asked to provide ecological reports to various groups on Earth."

Rojer gestured toward the worktop that would serve |es Ornigo as Tower expediter. "It's first in line."

"Thank you." Putting the tube down, she left with a cheerful farewell wave.

Rojer continued to the personnel quarters and nearly knocked into [es coming back to the Tower proper.

"Yours is obviously the one at the end of the hall, Roj," Jes said, his arms laden with disk files. "They've done us proud even with the speed they put this all together."

"We've already got our first message to 'port from Talavera," Rojer said, continuing down the hall.

"We'll be ready when you are, Rojer," Jcs assured him.

Rojer peered into the next open door, and the room was empty. So was the one on the left-hand side of the corridor. So he walked on to the end and opened the door into a large lounge room, subtly decorated with 'Dim artifacts and Human-type furnishings, a thick plain green carpet on the floor—restful. Windows gave onto the space that was already lined with trees and the beginnings of a patio. The inner wall had worktops and several screens mounted on the wall. A proper office. ()n the short wall to his left were two doors. ()ne was a closet ant! the other Was locked. He crossed the room to the door beyond the off ice space and entered a spacious bedroom, complete with the extra-wide bed that also featured a 'Dim trundle. Another door gave into a well-equipped bathroom, attractive restful 'Dini designs on the tiles. Laria's accommodations on Clarf were not as fine as this. He grinned with satisfaction as ne swung his duffel onto the bed.

Mine is nice too," Asia said, startling him, and CJiland Kat came rac-

1(*g into the room behind, taking a running jump to land on the bed.

Where are you?" To his 'Dinis, he said, "Act your age, you two.

\r ,._

XÝU II make holes in the mattress before I e\er sleep on it."

"I'm around the corner," she said, grinning as the two 'Dmis flowed down onto the trundle and began rolling around on it, testing its surface. "Jes said there's already a message tube to be sent. Or did you want to unpack first?"

He gave his duffel a diffident look. Then, smiling at the thought of opening a brand-new Tower on a now 'Dim-occupied world, Rojer threw a proprietary arm about her shoulders and guided her back through the lounge. He could hear the generators chugging quietly.

"Who started them?" he said, surprised.

"I did," Asia said. "After all, I'm the engineer," she reminded him almost pertly, and continued on her way to the three steps down to where the generators had been housed.

Do you mind wording with me as backup? Mallen asked, an odd smile on his face.

No, no, of course not. . .

It's just that Asia's prettier than I am, Mallen said.

Rojer adjusted his thinking quickly, for he'd assumed that this was his chance to work with Asia and he'd really looked forward to such rapport.

I have to admit to that, Rojer said, coloring his tone with amused chagrin. But I'll need your strength as T-3, Mallen. No insult intended.

"Let's get to work, team!" he said, reaching the lounge and clapping his hands. He heard the generators kick over. "Jes, you're expediter?"

Jes Ornigo pulled out the chair at that workstation. "That's me.' He peered down at the message tube, rubbing his hands together as if eager to start the day. "I'll send the coordinates up to your screen."

"Thanks." Then Rojer made a flourish at Mallen toward the Tower. "Shall we ascend?"

"By all means, Captain," Mal replied with a flourish of his own.

Mallen Bastianmajani took the left-hand couch with a sigh of satisfaction.

Didn't you think, you'd ma^e a Tower? asked Rojer, amused but entirely understanding Mallen's reaction as he settled in the right-hand one, a perfect fit for him.

flu IIKEI and the Hiu SI

Frankly, no.

you may wish you hadn't, Rojer said d roily. Asia, generators up to speed?

Yes, Prime, was her quick response.

Jes screened the coordinates in the High Council buildings in Old Europe and Rojer, checking to see that Mal had them, nodded once. He felt Mal's mind joining his as easily as a foot slips into an old shoe.

Here we go! And the message tube disappeared.

You didn't hang about, did you? Earth Prime said to his grandson.

Can't set a bad example, Grandfather. Not the way the 'Dims are swarm-ing in here.

Welcome to Tower life, Rojer, Mallen, Asia, said the Rowan graciously.

Than^you, ma'am.

Enjoy it while you can, Rojer, his grandfather said. Don't know how long I can spare you from Operation Search.

Oh?

Later, lad, later. Morgelle's in liriefor the next Tower. Good sending. And, as abruptly as Jeff Raven had touched his grandson's mind, he was gone.

That was nice of them, Mallen said. I've never been in contact with either of their minds before. Awesome.

Hmmm, well, yes, I guess it was. Only how'd he know we 'd started send-inS? The Blundell Building was not the destination.

They always know, said [es sardonically. And our next service will be four messages for Clarf. How'd they fyjotv we were up and ready?

Because theya?r, )es said.

l ' >

Stop the chatter. Four to Clarf?

The generators lifted briefly as Rojer made the'port. Coming in, Clarf Prime, he said formally.

Rojer? You're on the Talavera Tower? Laria asked him. They set that up fast enough.

Talavera Tower? That sounded very good to Rojer. That they did. So you can lob anything to me now on the surface. Flavia and Zara are still on we Columbia. We'll bring down what's being held in orbit.

But you're on the business end. Good. I've a lot more to send \ou.

Tired, sis?

We II, it's been hectic here. J put my foot down and we only do one big one an hour . . . every hour . . . and they are weight, but. . .

I won't let them overwork^ her, Kincaid said, joining the conversation.

She can make sure of that herself, thank^ you both, Laria added with some asperity. Here's the latest one'.freighter, cargo all inanimate. Got a big enough cradle?

I've enough delicacy of touch not to warp our brand-new cradles, Rojer replied. Thank, you, sis. Nice 'port.

There'retwo more scheduled for today and that's it for Clarf Tower. What time of day is it therefor you? I'll marf( it up for a "Talavera Tower" rotation.

Rojer glanced up at the multiple time displays, each identifying a different main Tower time, nicely placed for easy reading for the couch occupants. It is fourteen-thirty hours of a twenty-six-point-fife-oh-hour day.

I have that information. Than\you, Talavera Tower.

Incoming from Earth, Mallen said.

Five drones. Inanimate, was his grandfather's terse message,

Rojer linked and brought the drones in the rest of the way, slotting them neatly into the waiting cradles. "Jes, ask my 'Dinis to come up here, will you? We're going to need more drone-size cradles if they keep sending us job lots like that."

Kat and Gil came tumbling up the steps, front limbs forward to prevent slipping back down in their haste.

KAT, GIL, PLEASE SEE WHO IS CONSTRUCTING CRADLES. WE'RE GOING TO NEED MORE OF THE SAME SIZE AS THE ONES— Rojer broke off because the yard manager was already organizing crews to empty the drones and load the grav sleds. Then a crew often 'Dinis manually lifted the light drone shells off their landing web. IF THE YARD CREW CAN DO IT THAT FAST, MAYBE WE DON'T.

MORE COMING, Kat said. WE ASK FOR MORE. BETTER MORE THAN FEW.

"That's for sure," Rojer said. "Off you go, then, and please ask who is the yard manager. I haven't met him yet."

That's Seelbat Buffer, a Capellan and a T-5 kinetic, Asia informed them from her station by the generators. He has 'Dinis.

"How many?" Rojer asked, since the yard seemed to be swarming with all the colors Mrdini bodies came in.

He's a friend ofFlavia's and she pried him loose from Capella Tower Yard. She's very good at that sort of doing, you know.

Rojer cleared his throat, remembering that Flavia had got her brother and her mate included on the crew of the Columbia. But if Seelbat worked as well as Mallen and Jes Ornigo, he'd have no complaints.

"Isn't it unusual for a Capellan to have 'Dinis?"

Yes, he was the first. . . Some edge to her voice suggested to Rojer that likely Seelbat had taken a lot of criticism and dislike from the methody folk of his home planet for being partnered with "heathen aliens."

"He's here now and that's good," Rojer said.

Incoming from Sef, warned Jes.

Congratulations, Rojer, chorused Yoshuk and Nesrun from Sefs Tower.

Or do we commiserate? asked Nesrun in her droll way.

/'// let you know in a day or so, Rojer replied. Speaking of which, our day is twenty-six-point-five-oh hours long and you are slinging meat. . . He caught their send, a medium-sized passenger yacht. Precisely fourteen forty-five.

We'll mar% it down. You'll be peeping standard Tower hours?

I'll have to or be worn down to a nubbin. Is Laria all right?

Overworked, but I thinfy things'll ease off once the impatient get to Talavera. Oh, and we added a little welcome gift. The 'Dini bean counter, Fsslm, has it for you.

Bean counter? Beside Rojer, Mallen chuckled.

"Accountant," he said. "We've a full complement of governing officials down here already, you know, from the passenger ships we caught on the Columbia."

Let's hope that Fsslm doesn't complain about the luxury they've provided us, Jes said.

Here it comes, warned Sef Tower, and Rojer met the Mind Merge which Yoshuk and Nesrun used, and placed the yacht carefully into its cradle.

Seelbat, full honors to the passengers, Rojer said. Fsslm is to be specially treated. It's got something for us from Yoshu^and Nesrun.

1'ue the steps in place and Put and Car acting guard, Rojer.

Thanks, Seelbat. Sorry I didn't get to greet you formally.

Who has time for formality right now?

Rojer grinned. Seelbat's tone had rippled with amusement. Since the Tower was glassed all around, Rojer could observe the arrivals, all but the first one carrying heavy sacks. Fsslm was a mature blue-gray, large enough to have earned its five-letter name. Ground transport wheeled into the yard, ready to accommodate Fsslm's party and their accoutrements. Not all the disembarking passengers were admitted to that vehicle, so Put let out one of the shrill whistles a 'Dini could emit and a second air cushion appeared to transport the remainder of the newcomers.

As soon as the vehicle was cleared of its animate cargo, the yard tractor tackled the yacht and moved it to the storage area.

Rojer leaned back on the couch, pleased with such efficiency.

Fsslm's directed its car here, Rojer. You'd better get down.

KAT, GIL, COME WITH ME. HONORABLE FSSLM ARRIVING. Come On

up, Asia.

Should I?

Yes, you should, Rojer said firmly as he rose from his couch, gesturing for Mallen to join him below. // isn't that you don't kpow 'Dims, m'love. He paused at the foot of the steps until she joined him; then he tucked her hand under his arm, ignoring her pull to free herself, and they proceeded to the Tower entrance.

Their timing was perfect, for the car arrived just as the four Talents emerged, Kat and Gil slipping around them to flank the vehicle.

WELCOME TO TALAVKRA, HONORABLE FSSLM. Rojer calculated his bow, his arm pulling Asia's upper body down to the appropriate level for a five-letter-name 'Dini.

AH, IT IS A PLEASURE FOR FSSLM TO MEET RJR AT LONG LAST,

Fsslm said, bowing just a tad lower to emphasize its pleasure, and handed over the large box it carried. Rojer had to drop Asia's arm to accept the package, which had a suspiciously cold bottom. THIS IS SMALL

TOKEN OF ESTEEM FROM SEF TOWER AND FROM SEF PLANET FOR THE RELEASE OF THIS MARVELOUS NEW WORLD TO MRDINI OCCUPATION. SOON THIS WILL BE AS BEAUTIFUL AS CLRF, SF, TPLU, KIF AND PTU.

OF THAT I AM CERTAIN, HONORABLE FSSLM, NOW THAT YOU ARE HERE TO HELP ORGANIZE AN ORDERLY AND ACCOUNTABLE FINANCIAL STRUCTURE. Rojer and Fsslm bowed simultaneously.

Rojer, incoming, Jes warned.

WITH GREAT REGRET I MUST SHORTEN OUR FIRST MEETING, AS THE TOWER IS EXTREMELY BUSY AT THIS HOUR. WE WILL MEET AGAIN IN THE VERY NEAR FUTURE, FSSLM. OUR GRATITUDE AGAIN FOR THIS GIFT.

Rojer was stepping backward, the package beginning to freeze his hand. Asia kept pace with him, with several more bows.

BE COMFORTABLE, HONORABLE FSSLM, she said in well-accented 'Dini, which surprised Rojer.

/ only know a few of the polite phrases, Roj, but Flavia said I must have some.

Indeed you must, m'love.

Fsslm bowed once more and then mounted the steps into the car, which it imperiously waved to proceed.

The door slid open and Rojer and Mallen made for the steps to the Tower, Rojer pausing long enough to deposit the package at Jes's station.

"What's in it?" Mallen asked as they clambered two steps at a time.

'Don't know, but it's cold. See to it, will you, Jes, when you've a chance."

"Probably Sef fruit. It's the right season," Asia called up from the generator level.

What's incoming?" Rojer called over his shoulder as he and Mallen made it to their couches.

I f Ant Hthffiey

Drones, of course. Another five.

We really will need more cradles if we're getting this much traffic in, Rojer said.

// should level off. How much more stuff do they need to get a planet started? was Mallen's complaint.

His sentiment was echoed when Talavera Tower signed off for the day at 2200 of its 2650 hours. The traffic had been steady the entire day, and the Talents had had to snatch meals—and some of the excellent ripe fruit that Sef Tower had sent—in between the almost continuous bombardment of large, medium and message tubes, many from Earth or the other 'Dini planets. Seelbat was possibly the weariest when they finally called a halt. He had worked nonstop even with all the 'Dinis helping him to empty cradles and stack the drones, or park the vehicles.

"Who have we got up on the Columbia?" Rojer asked, slouched on one of the recliners in the main lounge. Asia, with a smear of generator oil on one cheek, lay curled up on another couch.

Flavia, Zara, fifteen T's of various abilities, she answered him, too weary to speak aloud.

Well, we're going to need Zara. I'm not burning Mallen out with such

loads.

I'll be all right, Rojer, really I will, Mallen assured him. Didn't f f^eep up with you all day?

You did and you're a pleasure to merge with, Mal, but if we get several weeks of this sort of heavy traffic, we need to spell everyone. Tower experience is useful for any Talent, Rojer said firmly. But we don't have the extras that Callisto or Iota Aurigae or Earth has. Loof( at Seelbat. He's a shadow of his morning's self. Rojer tried for a little levity, since he could sense Asia's apprehension. I don't ne.eA another engineer if I have you, but we do need someone to share the load with Jes, if only to keep the data in order. He turned to Jes and pointed a finger at him. And you're to go to bed when we all do, not stay up till dawn to file today's receipts. We'll get a yeoman down to help with that. If we should, the gods forbid, lose a drone or a freighter, we've got to fynow what it was and what was on it, or our bean

l

counter will not be pleased with us. And Seelbat cannot work^ at such a clip without relief. Did you get anything to eat at all?

Wasn't hungry. Seelbat didn't even open his eyes, though his right hand idly stroked Put's back. His 'Dinis were sound asleep, heads pillowed on his thighs.

Rojer turned to Seelbat. Who 've you worked with on the Columbia who can assist you in the yard, Seel?

Yeoman Dorot Bay or CPO Esther Stapleton. Kinetic T~6s who can receive, but are not much good at sending.

As we're on the receiving end, that'll do us. Where did you get all those 'Dinis?

Seel chuckled without opening his eyes. Their bosses send them to make sure they get the packages they're expecting. Some of 'em stay because they prefer the prestige of wording in the yard to whatever manual wor\ they've been stucf^ with right now.

A never-ending supply? Rojer asked, grinning at 'Dini tactics.

Just about. Seel gave a weary grin.

Rojer rose to his feet with a sigh and walked out to Jes's workstation. Flopping down into the chair, he activated the com unit to the Columbia. Despite the hour, someone would be manning communications round the clock — whichever time the ship operated on.

"Yes sir?"

"Rojer Lyon here at Talavera Tower."

"Good evening, Captain Lyon, how can [ help you?"

"Is that Lentard?"

"Why yes, Captain, it is," replied the CPO, obviously pleased to be recognized.

"Don't wake anyone at this ungodly hour, but would you please ask Captain Soligen if we can borrow my sister Zara, CPO Esther Stapleton and Yeoman Dorot Bay for auxiliary Tower duty? We're swamped here, and probably will be for the next week or ten days while everything gets 'ported in."

"Yes sir, Captain. I've recorded the message. Is it a priority?"

"Not before tomorrow at breakfast, Lentard."

I

8 B

hit

"Yes sir, Captain. I understand. Thank you. Over."

"There. That should do the trick," Rojer said. "And I'm for my

bed."

The other four managed to get to their feet and slowly made their way down the hall to their quarters, 'Dinis following those who had them.

Talavera Tower, holding up ofay? Jeff Raven asked as he contacted Rojer with the warning of a passenger ship full of experts, coming from Earth, to help establish the 'Dini colony.

A good night's sleep helps a lot, sir, and I drafted Zara off the Columbia . . . to keep her out of mischief. , .

I wasn't in mischief, Grandfather, Zara said with a dire look at her older brother. She had arrived just after breakfast Talavera time and, after one look at Mallen, announced that they'd work shifts. She was taking the first one. Mallen could go back to bed.

/ had brothers too, Zara. Jeff chuckled. Never any respect for siblings. Handle this bunch carefully. Some of 'em are fragile.

Do they have quarters, Grandfather? Zara asked. 'Dims don't mind sleeping rough. Humans do.

They'll use the ship. If you can set it down near the 'Dint headquarters, that will suffice quite nicely.

Good idea, Rojer said as Jes sent up the size of the liner. / don't happen to have a cradle that big anyhow. Come to think^ of it, the Tower yard isn't that long either.

Ready? Jeff asked.

Roger shot a look at Zara, who instantly merged her mind with his, all that practice in the Tower at Iota Aurigae making a smooth meld.

Ready.

Oooof, said Zara. What are they carrying besides themselves?

Equipment for three major laboratory facilities as well as botanical and biological specimens that the zoologists think^ will do well on Talavera, Jeff said. / trust you didn't crac^ so much as a beafyer.

1

Nary a one, sir, Rojer said, grinning at Zara. There's a Talent aboard who hasn't realized they've landed here.

That'll be Dr. Seyes Real Esperito, Jeff said, and there was an edge to the tone of his mind to indicate to his grandchildren that T-5 Dr. Esperito was not high on Earth Prime's "will see" list. Man has no control when he's excited. He is often very funny without being aware of either his humor or that he's broadcasting it. He's tolerated for his very excellent knowledge of xenobiology.

Good heavens, you mean we've left Earth and are on Talavera already? How could that be? I felt no motion whatever.

Sir, this is Tower Prime Lyon and I assure you that your ship is on Talavera, if you would care to loofy at the nearest screen or porthole. May we take this opportunity. . . .]es, are they on our screen? Ro]er asked privately.

One of the smaller screens instantly displayed the substantial liner landed just beyond the four-story headquarters block.

. . . to welcome you and your associates. We shall be meeting at some later date, sir, but you must excuse me, as more cargo is 'porting in to the Tower. And Rojer cut off the beginning of an effusive paean of gratitude. "Remind me not to go to any parties he's at, Zara," he said, grinning at his sister.

I should imagine you'd hear him coming and 'port out of his vicinity, she said.

p

J

"They have to have occupied all the whole continent by now," Laria said, trying to keep desperation out of her voice. It was the end of another long day of 'porting loaded vehicles and drones and importing message tubes that resulted in additional drones or tubes sent back to Talavera. At-tuned as he now was to her moods, Kincaid heard her aggravation and sent soothings at her. She glared at him. "I'm not that badly off."

"You're not?" he asked mildly.

"It seems to me," Lionasha said, "that we haven't sent anything to anywhere but Talavera for the past three weeks. What are they doing with all that raw material?'

"Where are they storing it, for that matter?" Vanteer put in.

"According to my brother," Laria replied in a somewhat caustic tone, "the heavy freight we've been struggling to 'port is loads of prefabricated partitions which the 'Dinis seem to be able to make up into whatever shelter is needed. He says that they've a first-class Tower with every amenity possible."

"Well, at least the 'Dinis got that priority right," Lionasha remarked. "Not that we can complain. They do right by us here on Clarf."

Laria grimaced and finished the last of her lemonade. Lio was right: Plrgtgl was forever inquiring if there was anything the Clarf Talents required to ensure their comfort. And their quarters were luxurious. What was wrong with Clarf was the heat. Talavera would enjoy a winter season of some six months: it had a longer rotation around its primary and three degrees more of axial tilt than Clarf had. Clarf was just constantly hot! Nights did get cool—well, relatively cooler—but the daytime heat was enervating in full Clarfian "summer." Once again she thought longingly of home, the darker sun of Iota Aurigae and the cool breezes that came down from the mountains . . .

As soon as this migration is over, you're taking a holiday, Kincaid said sternly.

How? Laria demanded, and this time there was a wail of desperation in the tight tone she 'pathed at him. Every T-l Grandfather can find is wording full-time somewhere. She got to her feet, somehow managing to keep her expression from revealing her inner despair. "I'm for bed. See you all in the morning, fellow mules."

"It's a light day tomorrow, Laria, if that's any consolation," Lionasha said encouragingly.

"Oh, they're sure to find a half-dozen emergency drones to be sent," Vanteer said.

Lionasha rolled her eyes. "You would!" She pushed herself up out of her chair and, with a disgusted look in Van's direction, left the lounge.

"What'd I say wrong?" Vanteer demanded of Kincaid.

"If you can't figure it out, Van, I can't help you," the T-2 said, and left the Tower engineer alone.

Van shrugged, finished his drink and left the Tower. He had a date. It suddenly occurred to him that Kincaid had stopped visiting whatever friend he had in the Human Compound. But then, they were all tired these days. Not that he was ever too tired for his favorite off-duty occupation. He grinned as he left, bracing himself for the sultry air outside the cooled Tower.

"You do need a break, Laria," Kincaid said, entering her room. She was spread-eagled on the bed, as if she had merely fallen backward onto its surface.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Kincaid," she said, raising her head briefly to acknowledge his presence. "It's all 1 can do not to snap at folks, and no one deserves that. Not with the loads we're 'porting. All I want to do is sleep." She let out a long sigh.

He stretched out on one side, propping his head up on one hand and looking down at her, letting his mind reach hers with gentling thoughts.

"I think we're both missing our 'Dinis. I know mine have kept me balanced in times of stress," he said softly. "Only three more weeks."

"Well, let's hope they don't try any more tricks on us," she said glumly, then immediately turned remorseful and reached out to touch his free hand. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded, Kincaid." She could feel her face flushing with embarrassment. "Whyever they did it, I really, truly enjoyed ... I mean . . . I'm just sorry it wasn't. . ." She rolled her eyes as her attempt to explain about the pleasure she had had came out all wrong. We were together, Kincaid, and it was wonderful. I just would rather it had not been forced on you . . .

Nothing could have forced me, Laria. He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze and then began to smooth her hair back from her face. Oh, our 'Dinis heightened the atmosphere a great deal, that's for sure. And he chuckled softly, wrapping a strand of her hair about his index finger. Then, turning his body and propping himself on both elbows, he dropped a light kiss on her cheek. However, we aren't being manipulated

Jl

by sex-driven 'Dinis right now and plain ol' sex between consenting adults usually relaxes the sort of tension we're both under. If you're not too tired. , .

Kincaid cocked his head at her, a one-sided grin curving his lips, as if he was amused to be making such a suggestion.

"I think I'd like that very much, Kincaid," she said softly, reaching up with both hands to run her fingers through his hair and then bring his face down to hers.

They were gentle with each other, as much from weariness as from a genuine and leisurely interest in making sure each would be satisfied. While not as passionate as their encounters had been when the 'Dinis were involved, release was unexpectedly and delightfully prolonged so that they drifted into sleep in each other's arms.

They woke together, one mind's consciousness awakening the other, and they were still entwined. Kincaid lifted himself on one elbow and gently outlined her mouth with one finger, smiling a little.

"I might even get accustomed to this, my dear. You're very restful."

He had no barrier set, and she perceived how much his mind and emotions had healed from the desperately weary, disillusioned and battered man he had been when he arrived at Clarf Tower.

"That's as you wish, Kincaid," she said lightly but oh so very pleased to know the healing was now complete. "And thank you." She raised her head high enough to reach his lips and gave him a soft kiss, then immediately rolled to the side of the wide bed to rise. "Let's hope that Van wasn't right and today's load doesn't include sudden emergencies. And we are all going to take a holiday when we finally get Talavera completely supplied."

"Good idea," was his amiable reply. "I'd best shower ... in my own room." And he 'ported himself away.

It would be more fun to shower together, she thought very quietly and to herself alone. But she did feel much better today. In fact, she was aware of some very important change in herself as she bathed and dressed.

"All I needed was a good night's sleep," she told Lionasha as they met for breakfast.

"Does wonders . . . that is, if you spend your night sleeping," Lio said, and for one startled moment, Laria wondered if Lionasha could possibly know how she really had spent the first part of the night. But Lio was looking significantly in the direction of the engineering section and obviously meant Vanteer. Laria felt his weary but satisfied presence doing the usual dawn check on the generators.

Kincaid was whistling when he emerged into the lounge and started building himself a breakfast.

"Let us devoutly hope, Lionasha my dear, that you were not enjoying any prescience for today's workload," he said as he filled his tray.

"There's not an ounce of clairvoyance in my Talent, Kincaid," Lio said. "Besides which, I can't imagine what can have been left out of what we've sent streaming out to that planet."

"Officials to make sure the work's being done well and on time," Laria had occasion to remark drolly later that morning when a small passenger craft begged 'portation to Talavera. "And Plrgtgl's on it, so let's set it down as lightly as possible by headquarters."

"At least that's the only one," Kincaid said, stretching until his joints audibly popped when they had dispatched it. "Was that Zara aiding Rojer this morning?"

"No, actually, it was Flavia. But they're both T-l's and strong."

"I thought Zara was more of a healer than a Tower Prime," he said, slewing sidewise and resting his elbows on his knees, his big hands clasped lightly.

"That's her personal preference, but Rojer's been rotating the T-l's. We're not the only ones sending him 'portages."

You know, I'd like to see what they've done with all the stuff we've sent to Talavera, Lionasha said, busy sorting the day's files into their respective piles.

Want to rotate with someone there? Laria asked.

Well, not exactly rotate, but just have a good ho^ round, Lionasha said in a careful tone.

Kincaid and Laria chuckled at her qualification.

/ thinly I would too, Kincaid said, winking at Laria. Sort of busman's holiday.

Busman? Lionasha repeated, confused.

Laria grinned at Kincaid, since she did understand the archaic reference.

Life a spaceman taking a cruise on a liner for the fun of it, she explained.

Oh! Wouldn't he have had enough space travel? Lionasha asked.

That's the point, Kincaid said.

Not much of a point, or a holiday, Lionasha said with a little snort of contempt.

Laria and Kincaid exchanged glances, his eyes twinkling with an amusement he kept well hidden from Lionasha. She had a pedantic tendency and misunderstood the subtler whimsy of Laria and Kincaid.

Laria, a special cargo—quite animate—and just for you, said Jeff Raven, with such a smug tone to his voice that Laria was very much surprised, and curious. / know both 'Dtni Towers have been hard pressed with outgoing. Gollee suggested this T-2, so kindly don't bang him up.

As if I would, Laria replied tartly.

She heard her grandfather's chuckle and then felt the incoming personnel carrier, which she deftly caught and landed gently in an appropriate cradle. 'Dinis swarmed to greet the newcomer.

Messages, Laria, said Rojer at the same instant. Priority.

When she realized from his mind that there was a drove arriving, she immediately linked with Kincaid to prevent any of the incoming tubes from getting lost. The mass of them took up every available rack, with several rolling onto the ground. The 'Dinis who had opened the personnel capsule were now chasing the fugitives.

Well, at least it's all inan—ahhhhh. Lionasha's exclamation of total surprise and her sudden surge of immense sexual attraction caused both Laria and Kincaid to exchange startled looks.

As one, they made for the stairs. Kincaid halted but Laria continued, curious to see who could have had such a startling effect on Lionasha. The tall man had been holding both Lionasha's hands in his—surpris-

ing enough, a tactile contact from one T for another—but she was gawking like a teenager at the very handsome and somehow familiar man bending toward her. Vanteer was standing stock-still on the top step of the stairs down to engineering, his face expressionless.

The new arrival, still holding Lionasha's fingers in his hands, turned slowly toward Laria, smiling with such charisma that Laria had no trouble at all understanding Lionasha's reaction. What she didn't understand was the immediate and intense antipathy that his smile generated in her.

"Vagrian Beliakin, T-2, reporting from Blundell Tower to assist Clarf Tower and Prime Laria Lyon," he said, showing very white and even teeth in a smile that was meant, Laria knew instantly, to have the same effect on her that it had had on Lionasha. "Kincaid." His smile altering subtly, he gave Dano a glancing look. "I look forward to merging with the man who developed the probe techniques on the Strongbow ..."

Laria caught the spurt of absolute rejection from Kincaid: a violent abhorrence at the thought of even the lightest merge with the mind of this man. Fast as it was, Kincaid's reaction also had something to do with his long tour on the Strongbow.

"It's required reading now, you know," Vagrian went on, totally unaware of anything save his making a very strong impression on everyone in Clarf Tower. Laria shot a quick probe at Vanteer and caught envy, distrust and, unusually enough, a touch of fear from her engineer. Lionasha was still smitten, the undercurrent of her thought wondering if she had a single chance of getting him into bed, along with a sense of puzzlement because Vagrian looked familiar to her too.

Familiar to whom? Laria realized, although the impact of his forceful greetings on her staff had diverted her briefly from that thought. Now he advanced on Laria, hand extended sideways in the prescribed position for Talent touching.

Inadvertently she took a backward step, banging her heel into the first riser. She felt Kincaid descend to stand directly behind her, and never had she needed his support more.

"You're Yoshuk's younger brother," Laria said, looking down at the extended hand and wondering how she could avoid touching him.

Do it and know, Kincaid said on a very tight tone.

She couldn't smile but she did manage to make the touch—red/acerbic/pepper—as briefly as she could and being very careful not to let him see past a tightly shielded mind.

A wry smile pulled Vagrian's sensuous mouth to one side. "Yes, my older brother by a scant year. I am late come to my Talent." His smile became winsome but slightly embarrassed, and he smoothed back his wavy dark hair. "A freak accident stimulated it and I was lucky enough to save others from sure death."

"Yes, such stimuli do activate miracles of self-preservation," she replied, trying to fathom why she was having such a negative response to the man.

She had never felt the least bit threatened by Yoshuk, whom she had always considered the handsomest man she'd ever met. Vagrian was the taller by at least eight centimeters and, tall as she herself was, she felt dominated by his almost offensive nearness. But she couldn't step back with heels already pressed against the riser.

'Dmis, rushing in with the addresses of the piles of message tubes, broke the tableau.

"Ah, I seem to have arrived at a propitious moment to start work," Vagrian said, his smile promising eager cooperation as he glanced up to the Tower.

"In point of fact, Vagrian," Laria began, "it's not so much Clarf that needs bulwarking as Sef. A third T-2—and I know how easy it is to merge with a brother or sister—would ease the burden which Yoshuk and Nesrun have been struggling with. So, if you'll just get back in your personnel carrier, Kincaid and I will 'port you over."

Vagrian's expression was stunned, his jaw dropped and all the good nature and camaraderie of his first minutes in Clarf Tower dissipated in a sudden blast of angry rejection of such a transfer. He recovered so adroitly that Laria wondered if she had accurately read that split second

of fury. His disappointment she could well understand, but not that flash.

"Alternatively, I'm sure Earth Prime can find you another posting, where your charismatic personality will work in your favor."

As Laria stepped to one side before turning to mount the stairs, she heard Lionasha's gasp, and was aware of Vanteer gawking in surprise. She caught Kincaid by the arm and urged him up to the Tower.

"Prime, I was posted here," Vagrian said, the wave of his hand taking in all of Clarf Tower, his voice edged with a barely concealed and increasing anger. "By Earth Prime himself. Your grandfather."

Laria turned on the top step, staring down at him, her body rigid with her rejection of him, and his effect on her Tower personnel. She started to tremble and felt Kincaid's sudden support as she drew herself up.

"I am Prime. I was not informed of this posting and I do not need an additional T-2. Kincaid is more than adequate for any merging I need. You have a choice, Vagrian Beliakin: Sef Tower, which does need a third T-2, or back to Blundell Tower."

"But I was chosen for you," he said, allowing disappointment to show in his face as he lifted one hand in appeal. His emphasis informed her all too succinctly of why he had been posted here. Her fury at such tactics now included her grandfather.

"For me?" Laria said softly. Never! She turned back, sliding into her couch and leaning into the generators. If you do not walf^straight out of this Tower and into the personnel carrier, I will 'port you there myself, Vagrian Beliafyn. You have exactly five seconds. And I have decided that you will cause just as much trouble with the excellent team at Sef as you would here, so you are going bact( to Blundell, MOVE!

He is moving, Vanteer said, and there was deep satisfaction in the engineer's voice. Wise decision, Laria.

I don't understand you, Laria, Lionasha said, baffled. He's in the carrier, Van reported.

Earth Prime! This is Clarf Prime. I am returning that man undamaged, but only because I wouldn't waste the time or soil my hands with him. She

acted with such alacrity that the carrier was back in the cradle on Earth hefore she finished speaking.

Laria! You can't have given Beliafyn time to present his credentials. Nor did Laria have any doubts that her grandfather was considerably annoyed by her rejection.

What did you tell him about me? Or was he Grandmother's idea? Because he is the most repellent personality I have ever encountered: self-centered, aggressive, domineering, worse than a 'Dint days late for hibernation! He had Lionasha drooling life a teenager. If was all Van could do to f^eep from punching him, and he had the effrontery to decide he could displace Kincaid in the first merge we made. Nor will I permit Kincaid to be exposed to such bigotry! I would sooner mind-merge with twelve Hiver queens than that odious man.

There was silence from her grandfather. A silence that meant he was digesting her polemic. You have stated your case, Prime. I was attempting to arrange for a relief team to allow your entire Tower some well-earned rest. Vagrian was the first candidate Golleefelt capable.

Laria gave a bark of laughter. Not him. Send him to a squadron where his. . . peculiar personality will be controlled by naval discipline. Wemaybe tired but we haven't shirked a single responsibility yet.

No, you have not. Jeff Raven's tone commended their efforts.

If you will forgive me, Earth Prime, we have two-score message tubes to 'port to their recipients.

Do so, then. This time the silence was his absence.

Battered by the encounters with her grandfather and Beliakin, she covered her face and started to weep. Kincaid gathered her into his arms, stroking her hair and laving her troubled mind with reassurances.

"Try this," said Lionasha. The expediter had a cup of steaming coffee in her hand, eyes and face anxious. Vanteer stood beside Lio, looking both concerned and amazed.

"We heard," Vanteer said. "Couldn't help it, Laria." He blinked and gave her a little rueful grin. "Never heard you speak to anyone like that before. Especially not to your grandfather." Vanteer was awed. Just be-

yond him, on the step below the Tower level, his Dig and Nim and Lionasha's Fig and Sil were ranged, poll eyes startled and wide.

Laria took several quick sips of coffee, then the tissue Lionasha offered, and dried her eyes and cheeks.

"Kincaid, you knew that man, didn't you?"

Kincaid nodded slowly, his eyes echoing the sadness that had carved lines in his face in the space of a few minutes. "Once." Then, with a noticeable effort, Kincaid forced his taut body to relax. "Slightly longer than just now. And that was before his Talent asserted itself. But I was just as happy to see him leave without making the kind of trouble he's often caused."

"He was trouble, all right, and all too ready to do what he intended here," Van said. "I'm only a T-6, but he was coming over loud and clear." His hands were still clenched into fists.

"I've never met anyone like him before," Lionasha said, shaking herself as if to dispel an unwanted burden. "He was . . . overwhelming." And she let out a self-conscious little laugh, then shook her head again more vigorously.

"Too fecking sure of himself," Vanteer said.

GLAD YOU KNOW THAT, Dig said, and the other three 'Dinis nodded. BAD DREAMING WITH THAT HUMAN. BAD DREAMING.

Laria regarded the 'Dinis with surprise, and a certain gratification that they concurred with her own instinctive and almost unreasonable rejection of a person in such a short space of time. She gulped down most of the coffee and handed the cup back to Lionasha.

"We do have work to do, team. Let's get to it. Day's heating up."

The tubes were duly 'ported to various locations on Clarf.

"Most of 'em are from that bunch we just sent out," Lionasha said. "How could they report back so quickly?"

"Whaddya wanna bet they forgot half the stuff they now find they urgently need," was Van's suggestion.

He was proved correct, for small and large drones made up the rest of the morning's imports to Clarf Tower and exports to Talavera. By

lunchtime, Lionasha announced with some surprise that the Tower had cleared all cradles and nothing else had come in for the afternoon.

"May I respectfully suggest that we enjoy a siesta until something does turn up?" Kincaid said as he made his way to the kitchen. "What can I get you, Laria?"

"Salad, sandwich," she answered from the Tower. Vanteer had left the generators idling, but she didn't need assistance for the quick call she felt she should make.

Yoshuk?

Laria? There was pleased surprise in the man's voice. Sometimes there was little resemblance between siblings of the same parents.

Your brother, Vagrian, was here.

Oh no! Yoshuk didn't sound pleased. Ah! You used the past tense? My congratulations on your perception and immediate dismissal of Trouble on Two Feet.

Yes. I sent him bacf^to Blunddl. I nearly sent him to you two to help with your workload.

Merciful heaven, I thank, you from the bottom of my heart for that show of common sense.

Is he as . . . difficult as I read him, Yoshuk? You're not.

Most emphatically I am not my brother Vagrian. Whyever was he sent to you of all people?

I thinly my grandfather had dynastic notions.

Ha! Earth Prime's slipping, or his initial screening has developed serious flaws. Not that Grian couldn't—without half trying, I might add—give the right answers. Unless someone thought to deep-probe him. Did you? So that you found out how poisonous he is? Accept my profound apology for being related to him. That might have had something to do with your grandfather's momentary lapse of good sense. Or he was taken in by circumstances of Grian's sudden emergence as a Talent. Chagrin colored Yoshuk's tone.

You've relieved my mind, Yoshuk^ I didn't thinly my judgment had failed me. Especially when Kincaid's reaction was total rejection and abhorrence.

Kincaid was right on line, and the first thing my dear brother would have done is to displace Kincaid.

That isn't possible.

Oh yes, it would be if Vagrian desired to . . . Yoshuk paused. There was a smile in his tone as he continued. Kincaid deserves your loyalty, Laria, and I'm glad it's in such deep measure for him. You will never regret it.

Are you peeking, Yoshuk? Laria was surprised and clamped her thoughts down.

Me? You're the Prime! I do suggest that you stop broadcasting quite so loudly, or both Vanteer and Lionasha'II hear.

Thanks, Yoshu^.

On the contrary, than^y ou, Laria, for sending that bad package right back^ where it can be dealt with.

"Laria?" Kincaid called at the base of the Tower steps.

"Coming." She ran down the flight, taking the plate of sandwiches from Kincaid's hand, smiling as she did so. "Yoshuk is not enthralled with his younger brother either," she said, joining the others at the table. "Good thing I didn't send him there. We could probably have heard the roar of rejection all the way from Sef."

"A bit of a sharne, though," Lionasha said, casting a sideways glance at Vanteer. "He'd've cut a fascinating swath through the compound here."

"Not if he intended to make a handfast arrangement with Laria, he wouldn't," Van said in a low growl of dislike. "I wouldn't've liked that for you, Laria. Or for you, Kincaid," he added. "What I'd like to know is how he passed Gollee's screening?" He directed that query to Laria.

"Oh, that one could pass any screening he'd a mind to," Lionasha replied. When the others regarded her with surprise, remembering her reaction to Vagrian's charm, she grimaced. "I may have been susceptible to all that masculinity, and the smarmy way he came on to you, Laria, but I'd've come to my senses pretty quick. Especially after I caught that shaft he aimed at you, Kincaid."

"I appreciate that, Lio," Kincaid said with a wry grin as he regained his equilibrium. "I thank you too, Van."

"We haven't worked this Tower so long that I'd let you down when

someone like that piece of ego threatened you," Van said staunchly. "You're a helluva lot more man than that one can ever be."

Kincaid looked slightly bemused and surprised.

"Well, tt takes all kinds to make this universe, you know," Van went on, a little abashed.

"The devil you know?" Laria said teasingly.

"Better than that one, that's for sure," Van said, one hand unconsciously closing into a fist again. Then he rose. "Dig, Nim, would you clear this away for us so we can get that siesta while it's quiet?"

SURE, SURE, SURE. The chorus came from all four 'Dims.

"When are yours due back?" Lionasha asked. "I've missed them."

"We all have."

YES, YES, YES, was the unison reply as the four TJinis began to pile dishes and take them to the recycling unit.

The Humans were all smiling as they dispersed to their quarters. When Laria heard the last door close, she 'ported into Kincaid's room. He had his back to her, pulling down the top sheet of his bed.

Kincaid, she began, not quite knowing exactly how to break her news to him.

He turned, eyebrows rising in surprise at her obvious hesitation.

She walked up to him, took his hand and laid it on her stomach. We started a child last night.

How can you be so sure? he demanded, astonished.

It's one thing a Prime knows almost instantly: that a new life has started. I wasn't positive . . . because this hasn't happened to me before. She reached up to stroke his hair with an affectionate hand. / fyieu> when Vagrian threatened you . . . because he threatened me as well. If you do not object, I shall nurture the embryo. If you do object, I can remove —

He pulled her into his arms, embracing her as tightly as he could, as if warding off any possible harm to her or his seed in her womb. No, no, no. Please. To father your child? More lucf( than I ever dreamed would happen. As much as I can, and in spite of my orientation, I love you, Laria, as much as it is possible for me to love a woman. As tightly as he already held

her, the pressure of his arms increased. Did you know how terrified I was when Vagrian appeared? Terrified to lose the gift of friendship you gave me when I arrived here sicf( and desperate and wanting far more to die than live?

I knew you were in very bad shape. . . And she let him see that she had not known how close to suicide he had been.

He held her away from him and she saw the tears in his eyes. You healed me then with such a simple acceptance of what I was. What lam now is all your doing.

She put her fingers on his mouth. "No more regrets, my friend. No more looking back. I don't require any promises from you, Kincaid Dano. I do, however, require a father for the child."

He folded her tightly against him again and, with a shaky laugh that was almost a sob, said, "That would give me the greatest possible joy."

"Even if I should require more children from you?" she said, her lips against his ear. "We Lyons tend to be prolific, you know."

"Let's see how we do with this one first, shall we?" he asked, but his voice rippled with amusement. Then he picked her up in his arms and, carrying her to the bed, laid her down, settling beside her and 'porting the cover over them both. "It's more important than ever that you take a siesta," he said in a stern voice, turning his head to frown at her. "And if your grandfather will talk to you again in the next few weeks, d'you think we can get a more congenial T-2? Or even a couple of3's?"

She put her fingers on his lips. "Shhhh. Morag's just about old enough for some Tower training. I'll ask Mother first."

"Good idea. Now close your eyes and sleep."

I don't thin f{ I can, I'm so wired. . .

I'll help . . . Gently he put his hand over her heart.

As if you could overcome a ... T. . .

"I've a few tricks you don't know about, dear heart," he said softly, as her face relaxed and her breathing slowed to the rhythm of a natural sleep.

"How could we possibly have missed Beliakin's overweening self-importance, Gollee?" Jeff Raven asked, rattling his fingers on his desk with aggravation.

"Because he's an exceedingly clever young man," Gollee said, and tossed over a folder of hard copy. "With good shields that only you, the Rowan and perhaps Damia could have penetrated. I certainly caught nothing more than an intense pleasure at activating a Talent he was sure he had, since his only brother is a T-2, and the hope that he would get a 'good assignment.' No harm in such thoughts and aspirations. However, if you run down the names of those who passed him through the testing process, there's only one male. To be quite candid . . ." Gollee sighed briefly. "With the workload in my department, I was delighted to find a T-2 proving out. I reviewed the assessments and had no reason to doubt them, since he most certainly possessed a strong kinetic T-2 when I put him through his paces. With a sibling as capable as Yoshuk already working as Talent, I made the mistake of assuming more familial integrity and rectitude than he appears to have." Gollee thrust the file into the reader, scrolling down to nearly the end. "I just looked over these comments from acquaintances again. I should have paid more attention to them. While he doesn't appear to have made close personal friends, that is not uncommon for the Talented. I originally dismissed the references as malice or understandable envy. On a closer perusal, all of them were men and women of sound judgment and personal integrity. They were attempting to warn us."

"And I, like a damned fool, was so delighted to find a splendid young fellow for Lana, I didn't question those careful comments either." Jeff flipped the folder shut. He sighed. "Well, no one's perfect."

Gollee chuckled. "So you figured he'd suit Laria?"

"If he hadn't had this serious personality flaw, as a T-2 he'd've been ideal. I think we'll give him to the Navy as Laria suggested. God knows we're hard pressed to provide kinetic T's to keep the distant elements of Hive Search supplied."

"Good idea. He can hardly take over a ship as he evidently planned

to take over Clarf Tower. Send him out on the Strongbow." Gollee'sgrin was definitely malicious. "That should pay them back for the gauntlet they ran Kincaid through."

"You're not the vindictive sort, Gollee," Jeff remarked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"Only in particular cases," Gollee said with a droll grimace. "I just don't like manipulative Talents when they're as strong as Beliakin and can so easily inhibit lesser Talents. We can at least employ his unquestionable abilities where they will do the least damage."

"I believe I concur with that. Which brings us back to the original problem: Who do we have to assist Laria's team? They're overloaded right now and the traffic is not likely to ease off for several more months."

"Morag's how old now?"

Jeff regarded Gollee with surprise and chuckled. "With all those complaints about nepotism coloring the political scene? Do we dare augment Clarf with yet another Lyon?"

"She won't be in charge. And why shouldn't she visit her sister and get some on-the-job training?"

"I'll ask Damia. Morag is close to seventeen now and has been merging with her parents on a regular basis. She'd know the procedures— that would be a decided advantage. Afra says the four local Talents they discovered after that mine collapse are fitting in very well as support staff. Xexo's snagged one as an engineering prospect... a T-5. Nothing like a brush with calamity to stimulate resources."

"Which," Gollee said, rising to his feet, "is exactly what brought Vagrian Beliakin to our notice."

"We shall be more careful, shan't we?"

"Indeed we shall. And make sure we have an even distribution of the sexes in the initial interviews."

"And for anything above a T-3, a Prime does the final check probe," Jeff said.

"When, that is, you can fit it in," Gollee remarked, and 'ported himself out of the office.

Did you hear all of that, my love? Jeff asked, leaning back in his com-formable chair and propping his feet on his desk.

Can I never eavesdrop but you know I'm doing it? the Rowan asked with some asperity.

We are of the same mind and heart, Lady of the Tower. How can I not know when our minds are linked?

Hmmm. Beliakin seemed almost too good to be true. But then I've no clairvoyance, even if I should have been more suspicious just because it was such a perfect solution.

Jeff heard his wife's mental sigh of remorse.

Send Kaltia with Morag, Jeff, the Rowan said after a moment's pause. They are accustomed to wording together and will be company for each other in what is definitely an older grouping.

What? And deprive Damia of more of her childcr?

I've an even better idea . . .

Send Beliakin to Iota Aungae? Jeff snatched the notion from his wife's mind with the ease of their long association and closeness. What a splendid solution! Damia and Afra will handle him, and he's unlikely to realize he's being tutored and having his thinking adjusted. When he's suitably reformed—Jeff chuckled—then we can responsibly send him to a Search ship.

He can't do any damage at Damia's at all. Not even to the two youngest. He may be a strong kinetic, but looking over his file, I thinly that's all he has. He's not strong on telepathy, only on short sends and receives. Also, we must do all we can to redress the embarrassment he received at Laria's hands. ..

Emba rrassment?

All right, humiliation, the Rowan corrected herself. But I suspect he came on too strong, so cockily sure of his ability to enchant any female that he succeeded in alienating her. Isn 't that what the therapist said?

You hadn't read the report?

No, you didn't give it to me. But I know Laria, and she doesn't respond well to such masculine assertiveness. You know that she's been puzzled, and

hurt, by Vanteer's vacillations because she genuinely li%es him and trusts him as engineer. Not as a male companion.

We could transfer him . . .

No, because Damia things she might yet overlook Van's . . . ah . . . failings. Let's give her the assistance of Morag and Kaltia while the pressure's on the Tower. Then we'll have more time to find a reliable male.

Reliable male! Jeff pretended to be affronted.

/ could wish—the Rowan ignored that reaction—that more Denebians could bring themselves to explore their latent Talents. You are unique, dear heart, but there must be some male for my granddaughter. And you know your homeworld keeps ignoring their most exportable assets.

IfGollee senses no definite bias from Beliakin when he proposes a Tower posting at Iota Aurigae, his being available might ease Damia's reluctance to part with the girls. Afra and Damia really do need a good kinetic to keep on shoving those big-daddy ore drones.

Morag and Kaltia like Kincaidtoo. Then we could send them on to Rojer at Talavera . . . Oh, you're reassigning him too?

I have to, love, with Operation Search expanding in all directions. However—he forestalled the objection she didn't even have to think at him—I'm formulating a valid reason for Asia to accompany Rojer, if that partnership is coming along as well as Flavia things it is.

If—the Rowan's thought was tinged with criticism—he'll stop acting like her protector and more like a lover.

She's developing a good self-image, according to Zara.

About Zara, Jeff. . . can we now use her more efficiently?

Doing what?

The Rowan went so quiet he wondered at the silence.

Making contact with the queens. Somehow we must achieve communications with them.

Why? Jeff asked. Even when Thian was in the queen's quarters he and his team were totally ignored. . .

They were smelled.

I'm not so sure we can manage a communication level based on smell,

m'dcar. Jeff guffawed. Unless we find a stink that drives them out of their lairs or exterminates them. Then he turned serious. But I have been wondering how we could capitalize on the fact that only Zara, of all the specialists who have tried to establish communications with the River species, has been able to sense something . . . even if it was only that the Heinlein queen was suffering pom hypothermia.

I do so wish we'd make some sort of a breakthrough. If only to silence those who want us to eliminate the species entirely, wherever Hivers are found. I can't believe we have become so sophisticated in so many areas and that sort of barbaric thinking can still exist.

Jeff sent reassurances to her, sensing her distress over a large, very vocal faction which was growing stronger and stronger, especially since estimates of the number of planets occupied by Hivers was also increasing as the Fourth Fleet went farther on their segment of the Search, in the opposite direction of the First Fleet. Three species were vying for the same sort of new M-type worlds to ease population densities. Fortunately for Humans, their Mrdini allies preferred the hot-sun worlds that could scorch the hide off Human beings. The marginal, semitropical worlds might cause contention that could become a serious issue. And each new settlement insisted on having the benefit of FT&T, causing Jeff Raven, as Earth Prime, more and more headaches as he tried to accommodate the growing pressure of requests. There were only so many Talented minds available and he was sensible of the risks overburdening could cause. Overburdening and the same sort of problem which the emergence of a flawed T-2 like Vagrian Beliakin could cause. Federated Teleport and Telepath had enough to cope with, without internal dissension.

We'll find a solution, the Rowan said, in her turn reassuring her beloved husband.

We usually do, was his equable response.

They both turned back to their separate responsibilities, each gaining strength and courage from their momentary rapport.

Incidentally, have you considered introducing Beliafyn to Tarmma d'Estes?

Jeff allowed his chuckle a lascivious edge.

/ believe she introduced herself to him the first hour he was bac\ here in Blundell.

The Rowan sent an image of a saccharine smile on her face. No better woman to pour salve on a wounded male. On the other hand, I hope Daraia doesn't know that Laria rejected Beliakin.

I'll tyiow when I suggest Beliakin to her.

"My father's up to tricks again," Damia told Afra.

Afra turned amused yellow eyes at his wife of twenty-seven years, patiently awaiting further explanation.

They had completed the day's stint at Iota Aurigae Tower and were walking back to their house, which sat well above the bustling, growing capital, its noise muted by the distance.

"Because he's offered us a strong kinetic T-2 in return for sending our daughters to their sister?" A slight smile tilted one corner of the Capellan's narrow, attractive face. He had the kind of features that improve with maturity. He reached for Damia's hand, as much to reinforce their intimacy as to fathom her remark.

"I'll bet you anything this Vagrian Beliakin, for all he's

Yoshuk's younger brother, poses a problem we're supposed to solve for Earth Prime."

"What's wrong with that?"

Damia didn't need to shoot him an annoyed glance: he could easily feel her agitation.

"Haven't you solved enough Gwyn-Raven problems, Afra?"

His answer was to throw his arm about her shoulders and drag her close against his lean body. Being so much shorter than he, she fit in under his arm quite easily.

"I admit to things being a little dull lately . . ."

"Oh, you . . . you . . . methody Capellan," she said in exasperation, making a brief attempt to slip from under his arm, but he was far stronger than she and she couldn't escape. Not that she really wanted to. "We're enjoying such a nice respite, with even Petra able to manage without constant supervision . . . and isn't training our own Aurigaeans enough of a challenge? If we needed yet another one?"

"Then you don't object to Morag and Kaltia getting some experience atClarf?"

"Not at all. Summers on Deneb are well enough, and Isthia is superb with them, but they haven't really left home, as it were, for something completely alien."

"Clarfs that, even if they've been raised with 'Dinis," Afra admitted in a droll tone. He frowned briefly. "Will Kaltia's very fair skin be at risk?"

"Sunblock helps and she already knows she has to be careful after that awful case of sunburn she had on Deneb. And that primary's not at all as harsh as Clarfs . . ." Damia's voice trailed off, and she frowned slightly. "Well, she's old enough to know to keep out of the sun."

"That's right, my dear, and she could always make parasols fashionable on Clarf."

"They are. But to get back to this Beliakin T-2 . .."

"Let's worry about him when he gets here. Didn't Jeff say that Gollee's giving him some extra training?"

Tkt 1

"Gollee doesn't train, dear, he tests."

"Hmmm. For what?" That casually dropped remark from her father was what really alerted her to a possible contretemps. "If the fellow's already been passed through the assessment process, why is Gollee handling him and not one of the regular trainers?" Damia asked, lengthening her stride to match her husband's long-legged pace.

"We'll know soon enough . . ." They both heard the staccato rhythm of hoofbeats on the path winding up the hill behind their home. "There they go . .." They caught sight of their four younger children, galloping out to hunt. "Oh well, dinner's soon enough to give them the good news."

Afra tightened his grasp on her, pulling her closer yet, looking down at her.

"It'll be good to have the house all to ourselves for a while," he said.

Damia caught the gleam in his eye and put her arm about his lean waist. "Yes, it will. How convenient that Tri and Fok are hibernating. We really will be alone again." She sighed in gratitude.

"Except for the tribes of Darbuls, slithers and Coonies that infest our house," Afra teased her.

"This time of day they'll all be asleep. Let's hurry."

Laughing, they 'ported into their spacious room at the top of the house.

They were grateful for that respite by dinnertime when they informed their ecstatic daughters Morag and Kaltia that they were to go to Clarf and assist their sister's Tower team with the vast loads still being poured onto the planet Talavera.

"So we'regoing to do something more than push big daddies," Kaltia said, her unusual yellow eyes, legacy of her Capellan father, glistening like miniature suns.

"Huh. We'll be pushing just as much around, and Laria'll be bossing us," Morag replied sourly.

"Laria has never been bossy," her mother said firmly. "And if you need bossing, you'll take it, young miss, if it comes from a Tower Prime."

"I'm going to be a Tower Prime when I'm old enough," Kaltia informed them with the complacency of her youth.

"That remains to be seen," Afra said, for he was methody enough not to condone bragging. Kaltia gulped, subsided and concentrated on eating.

"Kincaid never bosses," Morag said, affecting a pose, "even when he's hunt leader." She got on well with her sister's T-2. She'd been impressed with how well he rode and what a good shot he was. She considered him a very comfortable person to be with. "Is Vanteer still engineer?" Her sly attempt to wheedle information from her mother was duly noted.

"Yes, and we'll have no gossip, Morag," Damia said firmly. "Lionasha's Tower expediter."

"Have they 'Dinis?"

THEY DO, THEY DO, chorused Kev, Su, Sim and Dar at once. WE'LL GO TO CLARF. The four of them started to do cartwheels and other acrobatic antics around the dining table.

WE'LL HIBERNATE IN CLARF ITSELF, said Dar, springing up and down with more height than one would expect from a 'Dini.

WE'LL SEE TIP AND HUF, AND NIL AND PLUS.

"You'll have to help in the yard," Morag said sternly. "No running off to your color houses whenever you want to."

NO, NO, WORK IS FIRST. ALWAYS, Dar assured her, and then began to twirl Sim round and round until Morag was dizzy watching them.

"So, who's this T-2 you'll have to do our work?" Kaltia asked in a proprietary tone.

"Yoshuk's younger brother," Damia said.

"Isn't Yoshuk the T-2 with Nesrun at Sef Tower?" Kaltia asked. "Thought so," she added when Damia nodded. She was silent a moment. "There won't be ponies, will there?"

Tlii Toner nl (he Hiie 111

"No, not on Clarf, silly. No room. 'Dinis there use flying belts," said Morag.

"And you will not," Afra said, pointing an admonitory finger at Morag, who was more athletically inclined, and reckless, than Kaltia. "You already drive a ground car and they've the same models there. Or you can "port."

"That's not bad manners on Clarf?" asked Kaltia, surprised. On Deneb it was, but then, on Deneb they had had ponies.

"You will first inform anyone in the immediate vicinity what you in- ', tend to do," Damia said firmly. "Otherwise it's just as ill-mannered as it would be here or on Deneb." When Kaltia made a long-suffering grimace, her mother added, "Not that I want you out in the Clarf sun any longer than is absolutely necessary."

"I know, I know. I must use enough sunblock. Why"—her tone turned petulant—"did I have to get the fair skin and freckles in the family? No one else has them."

"Grandmother says you're a throwback," Ewain said, as helpful as teenage brothers generally are.

"And you're a ..."

"That's enough," Afra said firmly, and the three subsided and resumed eating.

"I think it's great," Petra said suddenly. "There'll just be you and me, E, and no one to tell us which pony we can't ride."

"Yeah, but we'll have to do all the hunting."

Petra grinned. "But we won't have to hunt so much with just four of us here . . ."

"Possibly five," Afra said, "unless Vagrian Beliakin chooses to live down in the city instead of here."

"Forgot about him," Petra said, turning glum. "Do we have to have him here? It's E's and my turn to have you," she added, looking sternly from one parent to the other. "We've waited long enough."

"When wereyow ever neglected?" demanded Morag tartly.

"I said, that's enough," Afra repeated, adding a mental quietus. "Good hunt, today? Where'd you go?"

"Larla's valley. It hasn't been hunted in just ages," Morag said. "// has been neglected . . ." She cast a daring glance at her father. "So the hunting was good."

Afra regarded his daughter with such a long thoughtful look for her impudence that she turned her whole attention to her dinner plate.

She needs more worl{ and responsibility, Damia said, though her tone was amused by her daughter's clever wordplay.

The rest of the evening passed without incident, Damia and her daughters making certain the guest quarters, private from the main living area, were in order for the new arrival. Both Afra and Damia felt that a man of twenty-four would want to live nearer the city with all its possibilities of entertainment, though he would need to stay at Tower House until he'd found accommodations.

"You're Vagrian Beliakin, aren't you?"

Since the words were spoken close to a tone that was almost a challenge, Beliakin looked up at the woman who had stopped at his table. He felt her shields resist his initial touch. She was only marginally attractive and he was far too involved with Tarmina d'Estes to need to seek additional female companionship.

"I'm T-2 and a far sender," she said, with a twist of her lips that bordered on mocking.

Beliakin rose and gestured for her to be seated opposite him. He had chosen a table well away from the other Talents enjoying meals in the spacious and restfully decorated Blundell dining room. He had had an exhausting morning with Gollee Gren, and really did not want any company. But she had in effect challenged him, he had to respond, however briefly.

"Clarissia Negeva," she said, sliding awkwardly into a chair.

Nerves, Vagrian thought, and gave her one of his reassuring smiles. Her reaction was a deep flush of blood to her face, and she averted her gaze to some point over his left shoulder. She'd be easy, he thought.

"I lasted longer at Clarf Tower than you did," she said, composing

herself and her telltale color, clasping thin hands in front of her on the table and leaning toward him. Now she regarded the pulse in his throat rather than his face.

"Did you?" He fought to stifle the burst of anger her comment roused in him. He had been given to understand by Gollee Gren that the abortive incident had been expunged from the record. His common sense took over. Tarmina certainly hadn't known, nor had any other of those he had been in contact with. All the testers had assumed he was being reassessed. He was certain that if that abortive mission were known, he'd've been aware of either ridicule or prurient interest. He managed to keep his expression pleasantly puzzled as a third consideration occurred to him. If somehow this Negeva woman had information that was not normally available to others in Blundell Tower, she might be worth cultivating. He intended to pay back Clarf Tower's Prime no matter how long it took. "May I ask how you knew that I had been to Clarf?"

Her lips moved slightly, and although she did not give him a direct look, he felt positive that she too had a bone to pick with Laria Lyon.

"I have a friend, a good friend, in the yard," she said. "He had been on duty when you were 'ported and saw your precipitous return. He thought I should be informed."

"Why?"

Even though Vagrian had come late to his Talent, he knew from his brother's conversations at home that Talents did not generally avoid direct eye contact—since they could shield their true thoughts from all but the most determined invasion. In the point of courtesy on a first encounter, Negeva had neglected to offer him her hand . . . almost an insult between Talents. While he was not a strong 'path, this close he could read her deep enough to find some reason for her approaching him. He ignored the fact that she'd been rattled by his smile: few women failed to respond—generally in positive ways. He resolved to make sure they made a tactile contact before she left his company.

She leaned even closer, lowering her voice, and now her eyes met his, anger and a sort of implacable hatred easy to note.

"That family dominates FT&T and they have no right to do so. They make arbitrary decisions and enforce them on us in an unjust and humiliating manner. They are weasel lovers, every single one of them!"

"You're referring to the Gwyn-Raven-Lyon clan?" he asked, lounging back in his seat because her breath was sour. Probably from the curdled enmity that festered in her skinny frame.

"Who elseP They have all the best Towers, all the best accommodations. They sit in judgment on every single Talent and they don't. .. have . . . that . . . right!" Her eyes had narrowed and she had had to lower her voice as she stressed that opinion.

"Who's to oppose them?" Beliakin asked.

"They haven't enslaved all the T-l's in our worlds."

"Really?" This was news to him.

"By no means. Nor all the T-2's. Furthermore"—she gestured for him to close the gap between them—"they ignore the clairvoyant as if they were dirt."

"And there has been a prediction that the mighty will fall?" he asked, feigning a hopeful anticipation.

"Of course. The higher they are, the harder they will fall. And fall they will. Then we will assume our rightful positions in the Towers, and annul the infamous Alliance. We have no more need of those .. . creatures!" She gave a shudder of repugnance.

"Disgusting," Beliakin said ambiguously.

"And giving worlds we Humans discovered with our advanced technology to ... them . . . when we are to be given what's left over is intolerable. No more promising colony sites can be so summarily \\mgiven away\ Our future generations will be denied their rights of expansion on worlds that have been just handed over to ... them."

Beliakin tightened his shields against this woman's intrusion, though it occurred to him simultaneously that she was so wrapped up in her angry spiel that she was taking no notice of his reactions. Personally, he had no objections to the Mrdini. She was patently xenophobic. That species had taken the brunt of centuries of war against the Hivers. Their long struggle should have some rewards. As far as he knew, the one

world released to the Mrdini would have been too hot to be comfortable for Human residence. On the other hand, he didn't like the Hivers at all, having taken an opportunity to see the queen imprisoned at Heinlein Moon Base. That creature revolted him more than 'Dinis could—it and the scurrying forms that it had hatched from its mound of eggs. So the Mrdini were welcome to Talavera. The sun would fry an egg on a rock by midday. However, he was definitely curious about her group and wondered just how many Talents might be involved in any effort to overthrow the Primes. Though how that could be achieved was beyond him. On the other hand, reporting on their dissidence might be one way to nullify the Clarf disaster with FT&T.

"Are there many who feel as you . . . and I?" he asked in a low conspiratorial tone, as if he agreed with her opinions.

"More than you'd believe," she murmured. Then abruptly she rose. "I shall contact you. I shall use the word expunge so that you will know it is I contacting you and you will open your mind to me."

Not if I can help it, Beliakin thought, but he rose too, and tightly shielding his thoughts as he'd been taught, extended his hand. She regarded it suspiciously and he could certainly sense her hesitation without any benefit of Talent. Her fingers gave his a glancing touch. He gleaned very little from it, but enough to know that this Talent could be dangerous in her hatred of the Gwyn-Raven-Lyon family. As he watched her stalk—yes, that was the right word—out of the dining facility, he wondered if he could effect a revenge on Laria Lyon without being tainted by whatever devious plans Negeva and her group had in mind. That is, if these had not already been "seen" by other, more sensitive Talents. She was, however, a T-2, and a sender was apt to have better shielding from any but a T-l. What a very odd creature she was. And viciously xenophobic! Talents were supposed, by the very nature of their abilities, to practice tolerance. Of most things ... He finished his meal, discarded the dishes and made it to his appointment with Gollee Gren to see what his new assignment was going to be. He wondered to which boondock he'd now be sent after his utter failure at Clarf. Hopefully where that wretched female couldn't reach him, no matter how strong

a sender she claimed she was. He did wonder, however, just how many agreed with her sentiments. Generally speaking—and it was why he was so jealous of Yoshuk—Talents enjoyed many more privileges and more prestige than any other profession in the galaxy. Few made full use of all such advantages. He intended to—that is, if he was any place where he could use the perks. What he found hard to understand in Negeva was why any disaffected person would wish to destroy . . . No, she didn't wish destruction, she wished a larger role. Beliakin knew there were factions dissatisfied with the Alliance, with the distribution of colonizable worlds (once Hivers had been dispossessed) and with the Mrdini in particular. Since weasel haters generally had little if any contact with the 'Dinis, he couldn't see what upset them so much. In any event, he still had a score to even with Laria Lyon by whatever agency came his way, even as unattractive and virulent a one as Negeva. And he'd get Kincaid Dano at the same time. Whistling happily at such a prospect, he took the lift to the administrative level.

"Iota Aurigae?" Vagrian stared in disbelief at Gren.

"You'd be working with two of the top Talents in FT&T, you know," Gren said, "and I can assure you that the contretemps at Clarf will not be repeated. In fact, your kinetic ability is very much why you're being posted there."

"I thought the family handled all traffic," Vagrian said, temporizing as he assimilated the fact. Such a posting had been so far out of possibility that he couldn't believe it. Was this a tacit apology for Laria's treatment? Damia and Afra Raven-Lyon offering him such a post to make amends for the vagary of their daughter? Considering its distance from the other main solar systems, (ota Aurigae could be considered a boondock, being a very recently developed mining world, but it was gaining prominence and expanding as the need for its ore resources increased. Topmost in his mind was the realization that he'd be able to hunt there—an activity frowned on by the more sophisticated worlds as archaic, or nonexistent as on Clarf, and one that he thoroughly

enjoyed and excelled at. Afra was almost legendary as the Rowan's T-2 partner until he married her daughter Damia Gwyn-Raven and they took over Iota Aurigae Tower, producing . . . what was it. . . eight T-l offspring? Or were all the kids gone now? Not that it mattered. If he proved his capabilities as a strong kinetic at their Tower, he'd achieve an enviable reputation at FT&T. And he might also just happen to find out how to get back at Laria. Nothing like the home ground to discover the precise way to wound her the most. He had absolutely no reservations about working with the Capellan T-2, but Damia was known to have inherited the same volatile temper as her mother, the Rowan. Well, most of the Primes he knew anything about had tempers. Came with the awesome responsibility, he supposed. Were they aware of his calamity at Clarf? Could there be an ulterior motive to that posting? Apart from rectifying their daughter's unexpected rejection of him?

"The family has, until recently, handled the Tower," Gren was saying, and Beliakin paid attention, trying to catch any shielded thought. Gren did have unusually tight barriers, but his public mind was quite open as he went on. "As you probably know, all the Raven-Lyon children are T-l's, so they are assigned off-planet to broaden their experience. They're down to the two youngest, who are not old enough to assist as fully. You would be working with several indigenous Aungaeans who had breakthrough stimulation similar to your own— a mining accident in their"case." Gren's expression was rueful. "It's easier if one comes less abruptly to the emergence of Talent, but we can use every one we can classify. Both Damia and Afra have had experience with bringing on latent Talents."

"Yes, of course," Beliakin said, realizing some comment on his part would be courteous.

"That also was a factor in assigning you to Iota Aurigae. A T-2 of your kinetic strength is such a find for FT&T at this particular moment in time"—Gren smiled in a manner that bordered on apology—"that perhaps we might have pushed you a tad too quickly where your abilities were most needed, with the mass of material Clarf Tower's had to

process lately. The Lyons—and rightly—are treated with great caution and respect. It wasn't easy to find suitable Talents for Clarf."

Gren sounded sincere, Beliakin thought. Perhaps Clarissia Negeva had simply not been up to the work on Clarf and transferred before she could mess things up. Or the Prime hadn't liked her. That was more understandable. Negeva was not an attractive person . . . and xenophobic too. Not a good mind-set for working on Clarf. Perhaps he should avoid any further contact with her. Their cases were not at all similar.

"There's also good hunting on Iota Aurigae, which is, I realize from your transcript, one of your avocations. Tower House has an excellent stable and the hills are full of game, large and small and not so easy to bring down, I might add." Gren's lips twitched as if he was remembering unsuccessful experiences. "Damia has issued an invitation for you to stay with the family if you wish—though there are new and well-appointed apartments in the city and transport would be no problem for you." He consulted his notepad, checking off another item. "Living accommodation is in addition to your salary, and you have the usual privileges of importing whenever drone space is available. It usually is. Drones may be full enough leaving Iota Aurigae, but they're mainly empty on the return trip. Personal effects above and beyond what will fit in a personnel carrier will be forwarded . . ." Beliakin waved aside that consideration, since he had little in the way of impedimenta and no wish to import anything from a homeworld that had little to recommend it except that he had escaped its bucolic lifestyle. "Would you be agreeable to leaving here at twenty-two hundred hours?"

"Today?"

"Yes, if that's convenient. You'd arrive late afternoon at Aurigae and be able to settle in before dinner." Gren regarded him and then added, "I believe there're six big daddies—as they call the ore transports—to be heaved to Betelgeuse tomorrow, so you'd have a chance to demonstrate your kinetic abilities. Which, may I say, are the strongest we've ever measured in a latecomer."

While Vagrian Beliakin knew this to be very true, he accepted that

assessment modestly. Gren flipped down the cover of his notepad to indicate the formal interview was over, and stood.

"I am certain that Iota Aurigae Tower will appreciate your presence and your willingness to accept the posting on so little advance notice."

As Beliakin reached the door, considerably relieved, Gren had a final comment.

"You also have the best wishes of Earth Prime and his regrets that he could not be present at this hour to wish you well."

If that was an additional apology for the humiliation Beliakin had suffered at the whimsy of Earth Prime's granddaughter, Vagrian accepted it in a gracious manner. He might come out of that initial disaster well ahead in FT&T. He would certainly bend every effort to do so.

"You're just getting us out of the way before Beliakin gets here," Morag said fiercely, although she wanted to get to Clarf as fast as her parents seemingly wished her there.

"How old are you?" her mother asked, with a slight strain showing in her patience.

"Well, he's supposed to be absolutely gorgeous . . ." Morag said wistfully.

Afra laughed. "A good seven years your senior, love, and far too practiced a—" ^

"Lover," Damia said bluntly, "for my young and relatively inexperienced daughter." She cocked an eyebrow at Morag, making it plain that she was aware of Morag's experiments with young miners in the capital city.

Morag made nervous adjustments of her personal belongings under the couch of the carrier rather than meet her mother's shrewd and knowing eyes.

"You've been well instructed on how to handle .. . such matters," Damia went on. "Do not fail to protect both yourself and the object of your affections."

I

"No, Mother," Morag said solemnly, for she vividly recalled the pain in Damia's eyes when, in the course of handling her daughters' sex education, she had confessed the terrible damage she had inadvertently done her first young lover.

"No, Mother," Kaltia agreed as quietly.

"There is quite a large Human Compound on Clarf now, so I suspect that there will be opportunities for a social life while you're there." Damia hugged first Morag and then Kaltia, keeping an exceedingly tight hold on how much she would miss them, despite their sibling bickering. There had been a certain justice in Petra's remark that she and Ewain would have more of their parents' time now. Both she and Afra intended to spend more time with the two youngest of their brood. Indeed, Damia was not too old . . .

You may not be, lover, but I most certainly am, Afra inserted into her mind, with such intensity that she had to keep from laughing at his vehemence.

Then it was Afra's turn to bid his daughters farewell and he held each for a long moment in his arms before he released them to enter the personnel carrier. Their 'Dims were chattering excitedly about actually getting to Clarf, the Mrdini homeworld.

Xexo and Keylarion smiled and grinned as the cover locked into place. There was no need for the practiced Talents of Iota Aurigae to return to their Tower couches to speed the light carrier on its way. But all could hear the generators change tone as first Damia alerted Laria at Clarf Tower that her sisters were on their way, and then father and mother sent the carrier on its almost instantaneous long-distance journey. Xexo muttered something about an odd squeal from Generator B and Keylarion said she'd best check that the big daddies would be ready to ship once they had this strong kinetic Talent in the Tower.

"Have we time for lunch before they send Beliakin on?" Afra asked.

"Gollee said he wouldn't arrive until the girls were away," Damia said. "Twenty-two hundred hours Earth time."

"Midafternoon here, then. We've time for lunch and a swim."

"We've enough from the last hunt?"

n

11

Afra sighed with amusement. "I'm not sure there'll be any left for this Beliakin. Gollee says he likes to hunt."

"Well, we certainly won't stand in the way of that, now will we?" She started back to the house.

"How long did he and Clarissia talk?" Jeff Raven asked Gren.

"Not long, but perhaps long enough."

"What was his reaction to his posting?"

Gollee chuckled, crossing his legs at the ankles and relaxing. "He was startled because he certainly didn't expect to be at a major Tower, especially at the one managed by the father and mother of the woman who humiliated him so. From the first I've maintained that Laria's rejection is known only to you, me and Clarf Tower, which has not even mentioned it. If he thinks we've told Damia and Afra, and they're in some way expiating their daughter's rejection, all to the good . . . unless of course Damia reads it in him."

"She's got the capability," Jeff said, "but she's got to have a strong kinetic, and both Afra and Damia know the pressures Laria's under. Considering how Beliakin comes on to women, my hindsight is now clear enough to realize that his brand of charisma would put Laria's hackles up."

"True," Gollee said, grinning. "He certainly cut a swath through the feminine complement of Blundell Tower. Tarmina allowed as how—" Gollee grinned—"he's most unusual."

Jeff chuckled. "She'd know."

"She's offered to take on any others like him anytime you choose."

"She would." Jeff caught Gollee's tilted eyebrow. "None of that, Gren. I know she tried to get you in bed too. If I wasn't well married to Rowan, I should have been sorely tempted."

"At least Tarmina takes refusal in good part," Gollee said, clearing his throat. "If we could be sure Beliakin might forgive and forget, I'd rest easier."

"I count on Damia's expertise as well as her immunity to the sort of charisma Beliakin dispenses. You handled this well, Gollee, and I appreciate it. However, did you perceive how susceptible he might be to what Clarissia's group is peddling?"

Gren snorted. "Depending on his success at Iota Aurigae, plus the fact that Clarissia was exactly the wrong female personality to make contact with him, I doubt he'd jeopardize what could be a very useful career with FT&T She's her own worst enemy, that one, even if she thought she could capitalize on Beliakin's abrupt dismissal from Clarf. Though how she knew of that needs to be discovered."

"Damn." Jeff swung his gimbaled chair from side to side in an agitated manner, running his hand through his thick dark hair. "It's so much more to our advantage to catch Talents young enough so that the basic conditioning is completed. A wild card like Beliakin could prove very dangerous, especially in today's volatile political and economic situations."

"Well, he's in the best place for some fine tuning, Jeff. And if he does well there, there's any number of postings where he'd be invaluable. I think that's the ploy to use . . . support that ego of his, nurturing it until what the dissidents offer wouldn't tempt him."

"It's that ego of his I worry about." Jeff slapped one fist on the desktop. "Stupid of me to assume the man would have sense enough to be tactful. At least until he'd settled into Clarf Tower. He was so deferential to Rowan."

"Who isn't?" Gollee said with a laugh. "And if he managed to fool her . . ." Gren let his sentence trail off. "Your children tend to find their own mates, Jeff. And so far, they've done exceedingly well. Give your grandkids the same leeway."

Jeff made a face. "My dynastic leanings arc obvious, aren't they?"

"The Gwyn-Raven line is not the only one to produce T-l's." Gren paused. "Just the most reliable."

All four of the senior Tower staff at Iota Aurigae were in the yard when Vagrian Beliakin's personnel carrier was gently cradled. His ear caught

I

the contented purr of generators that had had little to do with his transport. The lid was cracked and crisp cool air with a mountainy tang to it flooded in.

That was enough right there to please him after the blast of hot air that had greeted him on Clarf.

"Welcome to Iota Aurigae, Vagrian Beliakin," said one of the most stunning women Beliakin had ever seen. And not just beautiful in a classic way, but so vital that she seemed to have an almost visible aura around her. To his surprise, she extended her hand and he found himself responding, while all his initial impressions were reinforced by rich/green/spice in that deft, but far too short, contact. "I'm Damia Lyon. This is my husband, Afra."

The lean man, much, much older than Damia, smiled in warm greeting as he extended his hand. Vagrian was still so shaken by touching the Prime that he almost missed the strength of Afra s equally electric contact.

What a pair, Beliakin thought, as deeply as he could keep such a startled assessment. The mother was so dramatically different from Laria that he couldn't believe they were related, save for the distinctive white lock all Gwyn-Raven-Lyon offspring seemed to have. Until he took a second, longer look at Afra. Then he saw where Laria had inherited her looks.

"Let me introduce you to Keylarion, our station expediter." Though the woman—probably the same age as Damia—touched hands with him, he got very little more than deep blue and pine.

"Xexo here is our engineer." Damia now presented the gnarled older man who stepped forward.

"Pleased," was Xexo's comment, and his touch was oily/black/pungent. Exactly what one would expect of an engineer.

"We've four trainees but you can meet them later, Vagrian," Damia said. "You didn't bring much with you," she added as Xexo casually slung the heaviest of the duffels out of the personnel carrier.

"Always travel light," Vagrian said, keeping his smile pleasant and his manner quiet, struggling to restore his composure and a public show of confident ease. He hauled out the other two.

"I'll just 'port them to your room," Damia said, and all three disappeared.

"I should have done that," Vagrian said.

"I know where the room is," she said with an engaging grin. Then she gestured toward the well-worn path to the house he could see sitting on its height. "Bit of a walk."

"Not in this marvelous air." He breathed deeply, catching himself before he had expanded his chest ostentatiously. "It's like a fine wine."

"One of the fringe benefits," Afra remarked as they set out.

Aware that neither Xexo nor Keylarion were following, Beliakin looked around.

"Xexo isn't happy with the B generator," Damia said, grinning at the vagaries of her engineer, "and Keylarion's checking the coordinates for tomorrow's cargo. Did anyone warn you that you'll be put to work tomorrow and that we lift them straight from the mine yards?"

"Gollee Gren did mention big daddies," Vagrian said, "not that we lifted them from sites."

In his mind with alarming ease came a picture of the immense drone that he was to help shift the next day.

"Well, there'd be few cradles that size." While he responded as surprised as he was supposed to be by the size and tonnage of a drone full of ore, he felt no qualms at all about managing such weights. That had been his specialty ever since he'd diverted that mud slide on Altair. "Did I understand Gren correctly that your children have been helping you shift those things?"

Damia chuckled. "Only when they are old enough. In a merge with Afra and myself, we could add their strength without stressing them. I've seen your testings, Vagrian, and I must say that I'm impressed by your solo shifts."

"I'm not good at much else, though, in any other Talent range," he said, with what he thought was exactly the right note of modesty.

"You wouldn't need to be," Afra said with a chuckle.

By then they had reached the steps up to the house, and Beliakin

emitted a startled cry when Darbuls, slithers and Coonies charged out of wherever they had hidden themselves.

"Forgot to warn you, Vagrian," Damia said as she "ordered" the mass of striped, mottled, tabbied and plain-colored creatures to clear away. "Don't tell me Gollee forgot to warn you about the menagerie."

"He mentioned horses." Beliakin was looking all around him, not wanting to step on someone's favorite beast. . . unless one of Laria's was identified to him.

Suddenly all of the beasts were sitting quietly, watching him; even the slithers had coiled their supple bodies into compact circles.

"Each of our children and their 'Dinis have favorites, which of course are prohibited from going with them, so we inherited the whole zoo," Afra said, picking up one of the Coons and stroking its creamy orange fur. "You don't have an allergy to any of these, do you ?" He gestured to the herd.

"Oh, no, no. In fact, the only ones I recognize are the felines. I thought they didn't like snakes." Vagrian had been able to stifle the brief panic he'd felt surrounded by so many strange beasts.

"Slithers are not precisely reptilian," Damia said, allowing one to twine itself about her forearm. "But they are the favored pets of our 'Dinis. If you don't care for them, just gently disengage any that try to cling to you. They take hints quickly."

"Yes, that's good to know."

"They also stay outside," Afra said, "unless their 'Dinis are here."

"I see."

"This way, Vagrian," Damia said, gesturing up the broad stone steps to the wide sheltering porch of the house. Three Coons and two Darbuls followed her; none of the slithers did. "Our 'Dinis are currently in their hibernatory, though you'll meet the pairs my two remaining youngsters have. They're out hunting. I gather you enjoy the sport?"

"Yes, I do," Vagrian said.

"And you ride?" Damia gave him a measuring look. "I suspect we can mount you adequately."

Ann Uthlhef

I

"Yes, I originate from Altair . . ."

"Yes, you'd ride, all right," Afra remarked approvingly.

"Your room is just up these stairs," Damia said. "If you'll do the honors, Afra, I'll get us something to snack on."

The room was certainly an improvement on his quarters in Blundell Tower, Vagrian thought, and Damia had neatly 'ported the two smaller sacks to the wide bed and the large duffel to a luggage stand. The door to the right was ajar and showed the usual bathroom fixtures. It was, however, the view from the double windows of the room which got his full attention, showing a breathtaking panoramic view of the distant city and the shore it bordered.

"Never seen anything like it," Vagrian said quite truthfully, going to the nearest window and opening it. He took another deep breath of the exhilarating air. "Blundell never smelled this good."

Afra smiled. 'Til leave you to get settled in."

Well? Damia asked pointedly when Afra joined her in the kitchen.

Interesting personality.

Dangerous personality with all that masculine charm. Damia gave a shudder. / had this awful sensation that he was Sodan come bac\ to haunt

me.

Did you? Afra looked surprised.

Damia flushed. Well, he has a similar dynamic charisma and you can't deny he's decidedly attractive.

Not at all my type.

It's not a laughing matter, Afra. Young Naja Numto's just the age to be bowled over and ready for an infatuation.

He'll be an equal shoc/{ to our three Aurigaean lads, Afra said with a teasing glance. He's not a threat we can warn them about.

He's so much on his best behavior, Damia said thoughtfully. Maybe it'll last. I can't imagine why Father thought he'd do for us. When Laria . . . Damia paused and turned wide eyes on Afra, who grinned knowingly

back at her. He did? And she sent him packing? My father sometimes exhibits very poor judgment for a Prime. Did Mother know?

If she did, she was perhaps too hopeful and not as astute in her reading of Vagrian's character as I would have thought.

Damia regarded her husband with a measure of dismay. He is absolutely the wrong sort for Laria, especially after all she's been through with the wayward Vanteer. How could Father have been so stupid?

Don't thinly he was stupid, m'dear. I thinly he was so glad he'd found a strong T-2 \inetic to ease the load at Clarfthat he sent the man ahead without preparing Laria at all. Afra poured cold Aurigaean wine for them both. Damia absently accepted the glass and took a slow sip of the dry vintage. I'd venture to say Vagrian blew it. Probably too^ the trouble to charm Lionasha, ignored Vanteer and then made a fool of himself trying to impress Laria. He's only just discovered his Talent, and you know how wit-less that can make someone.

It hasn't made Numto, Clunen or Deferson witless.

They're younger by a few years, whereas I'd be very surprised ifYoshu^'s big younger brother hasn't been having his way with any girl he chose on Altair. If—and we can always confirm this with Gollee, Afra went on, holding up one hand, Vagrian made a balls of meeting Laria, and they've sent him to us to ... ah ... adjust. . .

Of course they have. Damia scowled into her wineglass.

Then let's see how well he performs and what we can do. Neither your father nor Gollee would have sent him here unless he has real ability that they wish to channel and save.

Damia was too accustomed to Afra's sense of justice and common sense to ignore his comments.

Small wonder he wanted Morag and Kaltia away before Vagrian arrived, she murmured. Can you imagine the impact he'd've had on Morag?

With no trouble at all, Afra said with a chuckle. He's descending. "I thought we still had some of that Brie-type cheese left, or did Morag eat the last of it?"

"I've pate and the local soft cheese," Damia was saying, having

Tki I Hum and I

swiftly 'ported crackers and spreads from the larder and cold store, while Afra opened a second bottle of white wine to add to the one they had nearly finished, as well as other liquors.

"What's your preference, Vagrian ?" Afra asked. "There are two local lagers that are quite palatahle and something the miners drink that they call 'bitters.' "

"Isn't that an Altairian white?" Vagrian asked, pointing to the wine.

"Indeed it is," Damia said, smiling approval. "One of our perks as Tower staff. You can order anything in when we've empty drones returning. And we have them in fleets," she added in a weary tone.

"Let's go into the lounge. Sunset's rather unusual here on Iota," Afra said, the indulgent host, and carried the drinks tray while Damia and Vagrian followed.

They were still on broad conversational topics when Petra and Ewain arrived, their Darbuls and Coons at their heels. Sim, Dar, Kev and Su followed, each with just one slither.

Thanf^you, dears, Damia said, nodding and smiling before she introduced her youngest aloud to their house guest. He'll need time to become accustomed to the slithers, 1 thmf(. Reptiles on Altair are too dangerous to be

considered pets.

When they wished to, Petra and Ewain could be the epitome of well-behaved children. Attuned to parental attitudes, they assumed that pose and passed snacks, then politely urged Vagrian to try some that they preferred. His inquiry about what they hunted on Iota met with such explanations and eagerness for him to join them that Damia was able to go out to the kitchen with the 'Dims to finish dinner preparations.

The hunting topic was pursued during dinner because Vagrian— with every appearance of good nature—was quite happy to compare his forays as a young hunter on Altair with the experiences of Petra and Ewain. Listening with an acute ear for any false tone, Damia had to concede that Vagrian was not exaggerating his prowess. Both she and Afra knew that some of the game he had pursued on Altair was a good deal larger and more dangerous than anything on the coasts or mountains of Iota Aurigae.

"We've nothing like ballbites and beartards here on Iota," she said at one point.

"Frankly, it's never been the size of permissible prey that's attracted me, Damia," Vagrian replied with perfect sincerity, "but the skill the hunting requires. If you do hunt here for the table, I'd be very happy to take part, if you'll tell me what is and is not permitted."

"What's your weapon of choice?" Petra demanded, her eyes keen, mouth half open awaiting his answer. Damia was relieved that Petra was still a trifle too young to be seriously affected by Vagrian's good looks. After all, her older brothers were just as attractive.

But, Afra put in wryly, merely brother.?.

"What's available?" asked Vagrian with a shrug.

"Just about anything," Afra said, "from slingshot—" ' ' i

"Slingshot? You can bring down prey with that?" Vagrian's surprise was not feigned.

"Sure," Ewain said nonchalantly. "Get most of the avians that way. Head shots that don't bruise the edible parts."

"Bow and arrow?" Vagrian asked now.

"Yup, and spear now and then against the bigger scurriers," Petra said, and then grimaced, "though that's kinda overkill. I mostly stick to my twenty-two." ' :

"Head shots?" Vagrian asked.

"If I don't have a clear view of the eye."

"Will I be safe out hunting with this pair?" Vagrian asked their parents.

"We haven't eaten a guest yet," Ewain answered, giggling.

After dinner, Petra, who was in charge of evening stables, asked if Vagrian wanted to come along.

"We've turned most of the ponies out," Petra explained.

"And you've a favorite mount?" Vagrian asked.

"Yes, I'm allowed to ride Saki now. She was Laria's special mount, but she's such a brilliant ride we've all used her until our legs get too long." She spared a glance at Vagrian's legs. "You're much too tall already."

3 G

"Which is Saki?" Vagrian asked as they entered the stable.

"Here she is," Petra said, and turned to the first box on the right. "Isn't she beautiful?" She held her hand out flat and Vagrian had a brief glimpse of a tidbit that quickly disappeared into the mare's eager mouth. When Vagrian stepped closer, the mare backed up, ears flat.

Once more unexpectedly startled, Vagrian wondered if the animals in this unusual household were also telepathic. The diverse herd that had startled him in front of the house had immediately withdrawn and sat in patient order until released. And now this mare seemed to sense his keen, and inimical, interest in her.

"She'll behave better when she sees you more often," Petra said airily. Then she tugged at Vagrian's sleeve. "The horses are farther down and I'd say China will be up to your weight. She's very sure-footed, which you need in our hills, and quite onward bound."

Seeing a bucket of horse pellets, Vagrian took a handful, determined to make a positive impression on this mare. The dappled gray accepted his offering quite willingly and allowed him to stroke her neck and scratch her ears. When Petra clicked twice, China stepped back and he got a good look at her.

"Good bone and strong hindquarters," Vagrian said appreciatively, and when Petra gave him an approving glance, left his assessment at that. He was going to have to be very careful in this household, even in its stables. He must certainly remember that all of the Lyons wereT-1's. He wondered if such ratings extended to the animals. He would try to make friends with at least one of the Coon cats. They were an expensive import on Altair, so he had little direct experience with the breed. Canines were another matter, since he'd used dogs in hunts. He wondered how close to canines the Darbuls were.

"So what are our duties now?" he asked Petra.

"Oh, we just check to be sure their water bowls haven't clogged, and clear out droppings. We didn't hunt today, so we don't have to check for prods or scratches. We have to be careful about them here on Iota. Lots of odd stuff even the horses born here can't handle. There's the medical kit." She pointed to the green box on the wall. "Everything's marked in

Hive

case you need to use something and no one's here to help. Though we always hunt in pairs at least."

"Wise," he said. "So let's clean the boxes."

Petra went to an elongated object held by brackets to the wall at the entrance, and she pointed to a similar affair on the other side. "Xexo did 'em and these vacuum brooms save so much trouble. Try to lift only the droppings. Too many shavings mean you gotta empty more often."

Vagrian had not seen such a handy device before, since Altair tended to use old-fashioned methods on its farms. However, following Petra's advice, they had cleaned up the droppings in a fraction of the time such a task usually took. Then she showed him where to empty the now filled containers: a large tank.

"It processes the manure for use in agriculture," she said, deftly handling the transfer. Having watched closely, Vagrian repeated the process. "Hey, you're good," she declared approvingly. "Do it wrong and it's all over you."

"I'm doing my best to make a good first impression," Vagrian said.

"Oh, you're doing all right," she said, so airily that Vagrian once more tightened his guard. "Oh, don't be so silly. Nobody here imposes even if we are T- 1 's. It's such bad manners. Just keep on my mother's good side," she added in a whisper. "That should be easy for you." And with that cryptic remark, she motioned for him to replace the gadget on the wall.

Although the minor job he had just completed with Petra had required very little effort, he felt tired as he climbed the steps back up to the house.

"You look all in," the girl said, cocking her head up to him as he held the door open for her. She frowned. "If you got here late afternoon, it'd've been twenty-two hundred hours at Blundell. You'd better get to bed. Tomorrow you'll be initiated into transporting big daddies, and they're something else again."

Damia appeared in the hall. "I apologize for forgetting the time difference, Vagrian. And all of us handle the big daddies first thing when we're well rested. Sleep well."

Though the dismissal was kindly meant and Vagrian could not deny

that he was tired, he wasn't too pleased to be sent to bed like an adolescent who wouldn't admit to fatigue.

The next morning after an excellent breakfast, he joined Damia and Afra in Iota Aurigae's Tower. If the views from the house had been splendid, the positioning of the Tower in a gap of the mountains gave breathtaking panoramas of the foothills, which culminated in an immense range of snowcapped crests and endless ridges.

As they entered the facility, Keylarion, at her workstation, gave them a good morning and turned back to the screens showing the big daddies they would shortly send on their way. The throb of generators pulsed through the floor of the building as Vagrian followed Damia and Afra up the stairs to where three couches were centered, wall-mounted screens mirroring those at Keylarion's desk. Several smaller couches had been pushed back against the outer wall. The one on the left that Damia pointed out to him was brand-new while the ones onto which the Prime and Afra settled showed years of use and frequent repairs.

Vagrian was not the least nervous once he settled onto the couch, which fit him as if it had been custom-made for his tall, wide frame.

"What's first, Keylarion?" Damia asked. One of the screens brightened. "Maltese Cross, huh?" She turned to her left, to Vagrian. "You have been trained in merge techniques, haven't your"

"Of course," he said, and tightened his inner shields.

"Let Afra take you into the merge. And relax!"

He felt the gentle push of Afra's mind against his and did manage not to resist. He was still unsure of merging despite the practice sessions at Blundell. But this was almost effortless and he could relax. And he did, then felt the incredible strength of Damia joining and picking up the existing merge. Afra increased and drew him to a higher level. An unexpected excitement began deep inside him to respond to the draw on his Talent.

Easy, Vagrian, Damia said. Nowfollow my lead to our target. We'llneed your heft. . . DAVID, coming your way . . . at top speed! NOW!

Ihe Imr ml the Hin ' • •

As if he were part of the drone they were manipulating, Vagrian felt its dead weight, felt the merge lifting it with incredible ease and then shifting it until he, within the merge, felt the contact of another merge, taking the drone the rest of the way to Betelgeuse.

He was aware then of the generators, dropping from the height at which they had assisted the gestalt of mind and direction.

Well done, Vagrian, Damia said, grinning at him. Keep in mind we've five more of these brutes to shove. Allow me to draw the heft as I need it. Don't anticipate. It'll taf(e even you a little time to feel the needs of a merge.

The second screen brightened with the second target. "Trefoil Mine, this time, and then back to Maltese Cross."

Afra was still in merge with him, and Vagrian had to appreciate the experienced delicacy of the other T-2's touch. But then, the man had decades of practice, first with the Rowan at Callisto Station and then twenty-six or more years with his wife. No matter, the Capellan's deftness was remarkable and most certainly did not give Vagrian any sense of violation or intrusion. He had thought that most merges occurred with the focus mind initiating the process, then including the others involved.

Damia's strong even for a Prime, was Afra's discreet remark. Especially wording with our children, I could lead them into merge.

Ready? Damia asked.

Ready.

When you are, said another male voice that must be David of Betelgeuse. Who've you got throwing today? Certainly not Petra and Ewain.

Vagrian Belia\in, Damia said. Are you ready, David?

Quite!

This time Vagrian was ready for the sensation and the weight, and remembering not to anticipate, he found this thrust was indeed easier.

By the sixth and final 'portation, Vagrian knew he had worked hard. There was sweat on his forehead from the mental and physical effort. He was somewhat reassured to notice that Afra was mopping his fore-

head and there was a glow of perspiration on Damia's composed and beautiful face.

Keylarion came up the steps with a tray of tall drinks, handing one to each of them. She grinned at Vagrian.

"I see you survived to tell the tale," she said with a grin. "Didn't even have the generators at max either. Xexo's going to love having you here."

He was debating a retort, when Keylarion turned to Damia. "Some incoming scheduled in half an hour. Okay?"

"You bet," Damia said, tipping her glass at Vagrian. "We could damn well push to the Magellanic Cloud with this one assisting."

"All in a day's work," he said, taking refuge m a trite reply because he hadn't expected such approval. After all, she had had to tell him to exercise restraint. And she was Laria's mother? Would he have made such a balls of it at Clarf if Damia had been the Tower Prime ?

"Work's not over yet," she said teasingly, and took a long drink.

He did too, knowing that the stimulant would restore the energy those heists had taken, even if he didn't feel them . . . yet.

He concluded his first day's work at Iota Aurigae Tower well pleased with himself and this assignment. This was a real challenge for any Talent, and for the first time since he discovered he had Talent, he felt he had used his mental muscles. It was also the first time he had not had a nightmarish flash of that mud slide. He was glad that little reminder was receding. He'd been one of the senior wardens of a large game preserve on Altair, accompanying a big group of hunters, and he had managed to include in their number his current female companion. Alcibaca had claimed an enthusiastic interest in hunting—feigned, he suspected, in an effort to capture his attention. For once, his suspicions were false. She'd kept up with him and the others he had escorted on a regular basis. Without a murmur of complaint, she'd done her share of camping chores and had bagged three of the largest beartards, skinned and dressed down the meat properly.

They were on the fourth day of the week, and its third rainy one,

when he led them, carefully, up a steep slope to a narrow valley he knew was the home of a large enough "bear" clan which needed to be culled. He had his charges spread out across the slope, since he was well aware of the dangers of mud slides in these hills. What with keeping an appreciative eye on the rear view Alcibaca presented and the other on the weakest hunters of his group, he did not see three of them closing up, ahead of him. Nor did he see the avian that one of them, who ought to have known better, fired at. The sharp crack was all that was needed to set the treacherous ground moving.

The three men had time to leap to the far side, clinging to the nearest saplings and bushes, but the slide, once it started, picked up momentum in an awesome, inexorable cataract of moving mud, heading right at the rest of the hunting party. Horrified, Vagrian kept his wits, saw that there was one chance to protect himself and his group. The slide was heading toward a granite outcropping. If there was only a way to push the slide to the opposite side of that, instead of over it, the mud would head harmlessly into the valley below. With every ounce of body language, he valiantly pushed the bulging, rippling head of the slide, and when it actually did pass on the far side of the rock, he fell to his knees, gripping his head against the most appalling, blinding headache he'd ever experienced.

Alcibaca and one of the executives had the good sense to call in their position and airlift the hunting party out—all of them. The one who had fired without checking with him was served with a lifetime ban at that preserve. Vagrian had been interviewed by a T-4 and the outcome was sufficient to alter the course of his life. His one regret for the precipitous way in which he was 'ported to Blundell for further assessment was that he hadn't been able to persuade Alcibaca to accompany him. She had expressed gratitude to him for saving her life in a time-honored fashion and she was his sole regret in leaving Altair for Earth.

wn

u ju jl

Laria's delight in having her sisters come was sufficient for her to be the one to open their personnel carrier in the dawn cool of Clarf. She hugged them both, introduced them and their 'Dinis to those doing the yard duty.

All of a sudden, Morag pulled out of her sister's embrace and, her jaw working in astonishment, pointed skyward. "What's sparkling up there? Or is it my imagination?" She squinted toward the distant but visible shining point. "Or do you have a morning star I didn't know about?"

"Oh, that," Laria said dismissively, without bothering to look up. "That's a Hiver sphere!"

Kaltia's eyes widened with some apprehension as she too peered at the sparkling spot.

"It's empty, though occasionally Mrdinis go up to prowl around for the fun of it," Laria said. "That's the one Captain Klml brought back as a trophy for its color. Then every other 'Dini world had to hijack one to maintain the honor of their colors."

Morag, eyes still on the sphere hanging like a malignant metal moon in the morning sky, shook her head. "Thing still looks dangerous." Then she wiped the beads of perspiration that the relative cool of very early morning oozed out of her pores.

"Wouldn't think that would have bothered you, Morag," Laria said, somewhat concerned.

"It's not the sphere that made me break out in sweat. It's what you call climate here."

"Why, it's cool right now," Laria replied. "You call this TOO/?" Morag demanded.

"All is relative," Laria said, grinning. "You'll gradually get acclimated and I don't expect you'll want to go out much at first, but the Tower's set to Iota temperatures. Don't worry about the duffels. The 'Dinis'll bring them in."

Laria paused only long enough to 'port the personnel carrier into the storage shed, where its interior wouldn't heat up when the full sun appeared. Then she turned both girls, who were still staring up at the sphere, firmly toward the Tower as eight 'Dinis argued over who was to carry which duffel.

EACH OF YOU GRAB ONE END. THEN CART THEM TO ROOMS THREE AND FOUR, WILL YOU PLEASE? Laria told them so she could introduce her sisters to her Tower crew.

"You know Kincaid, of course," she said, "Lionasha here is our expediter and Vanteer our engineer. And that's all of us, bar the 'Dinis. We've got four off in hibernation—mine and Kincaid's—but they're about due to come home."

Lionasha hugged both girls, Van treated them to a bow and a kiss on their hands, grinning mischievously when Morag gave him a mock

scowl and Kaltia pretended to swoon at such courtesy. Standing slightly to one side of the others, Kincaid appeared uncertain as to what form his greeting should take, but Morag dragged him down by the shoulder and kissed his cheek, laughing at his startled expression.

"Missed you hunting with us, Kincaid," she said, winking at him.

Kaltia, less the hoyden, extended her hand, and when he took it, folded her other hand over for a closer contact. She grinned up at him.

"My sister hasn't worked you to death then . . ."

"Not yet," Kincaid replied with a mock grimace. "But your presence will make my demise much less likely. I couldn't believe it when Laria said your mother had relented."

"I thought it was Grandfather's idea," Morag said, looking from Kincaid to Laria.

"His idea, but Mother had to agree to parting with you," Laria said, linking an arm about their shoulders and hugging them into her. "Oh, but it's good to have family here. Now, are you hungry or do you want to settle in? You may, once you've got accustomed to Clarf, wish to take an apartment together in the Human Compound because there's a lot more going on there than here. I've asked for another ground car since I know" she cocked a finger at Morag—"that Dad passed you for driving years before he let me solo."

"Had to," Morag said with a grin.

"We can settle in later. We came here to work " Kaltia said, rubbing

' ' O

her hands together with a roll of her eyes.

"You will," Lionasha said, gesturing to the load of disks. "We've some heavy drone freighters to go . . ."

"Ah, piffle," said Morag, with a toss of her heavy dark hair, the silvered lock that was the family's trademark falling neatly down the center of her tresses. "We've done big-daddy ore drones until it's second nature."

"Why else do you think you're here?" Vanteer remarked dryly, but he was grinning at the ebullience of the sisters, which had lightened the semigloom that had emanated from Laria since she'd 'ported the unwanted T-2 back to Blundell. Surprised as he had been at Laria's

precipitous removal of Yoshuk's brother, he had been intensely grateful. Vanteer had just a touch of prescience in his Talent, and warning ripples had gone down his spine the moment the man entered the Tower. Morag and Kaltia, by their very presence, eagerness to work and delight in being able to help their sister, had dispelled the last of that unpleasantness. He knew that Kincaid had visited the Lyon home on Iota Aurigae, and both girls were obviously glad to renew the acquaintance. The nebulous worries that he recently sensed in the Tower dissipated in the giggles of two more Lyons. "Is there anyone left at home?" he added.

"Sure, Ewain and Petra," Kaltia said, and dismissed them with a wave. "But they're still too young, so Grandfather sent in a strong kinetic T-2 to help Mother and Dad."

"Really?" Kincaid said, to break a stunned silence, since all the adults in the Tower had a good idea just who that T-2 could be.

"We had to leave but he's supposed to have more than enough heft for the big daddies. And Mom and Dad will break him in properly."

"Yes," Laria said, an odd look on her face, "I'm sure that they will."

Lionasha suddenly started sorting disks, Vanteer retreated to the generators, and if Morag caught some undercurrent, Laria quickly urged them to follow her to their quarters.

"We won't really have much time before the Tower's busy, but as near as 1 can remember, you'd've left home at about nine-thirty?"

"On the nose, sis, or do we have to call you Prime?" Kaltia said.

"Have you ever called Mother Prime?" Laria retorted, chuckling.

"Only Grandmother," Morag said pertly.

"Oh, but I am glad to have you here!" Laria repeated.

"And we're glad to be allowed out," Morag said, "but that sun is incredible!"

They all heard the unmistakable sound of generators turning over and speeding up.

"I don't think you'll have more than time to look into your rooms," Laria said, sliding open a door on one side of the hall and pointing to the one just opposite it. "See which one your duffels are in, wash your faces or whatever, but come on back to Tower. Today'11 be so easy."

And it was, despite six hefty drones loaded with machinery and spare parts, two large passenger vehicles and the usual incoming shower of message tubes. That caused Morag the most astonishment.

"It's raining tubes out there," she cried, watching the canisters falling into and all around the cradle.

"We could use something else," Kaltia said. "Like a big round bin. They're too short to land in a cradle and too many to stack neatly."

Bins are a great idea, Lionasha said. Why couldn't we thinly of that?

Because we've been too busy catching, Laria said with a note of exasperation.

New brooms sweep clean, Kincaid said, grinning at the girls.

Or a ramp to slide them into a big enough enclosure so it doesn't matter how many come in at once, Morag suggested, projecting the image of such a device.

Roll 'em in line like bowls in an alley, Vanteer said. Good notion. Let's get the 'Dinis on it. They'll know where to get the stuff we'd need.

And we thought the mining companies got lots of messages! Morag exclaimed, remaining in the Mind Merge but at the same time 'porting loose message tubes into an orderly pile. How long's this been going on?

Since Talavera, Laria said. We've one more crate . . . Easy does it! It's fragile.

The crate, the machinery inside it visible through the slats of its carrier, landed without so much as a bump.

What's the waybill on that, Lio? Kincaid asked.

A return to the FCR Woi\s at Fl. Malfunction. Needs recalibration.

Well, let's put it in the shed, out of the way, then, until FCR tells us it's ready to receive it, Laria said. They'll have to reschedule to ta^e on repair worl(.

"That's the lot for the morning," Lionasha said. "Be right up."

Morag stretched, arms above her head, toes pointing out, and Kaltia turned on her side and assumed a brief fetal position—each relaxing in a different fashion. Kincaid looked casually over at Laria. As deftly as he could as the next in line to Laria in the Mind Merge, he'd drawn more

heavily on the vibrant young strength of the girls, knowing they'd have enough experience to ease some of the burden that fell to the Prime.

She turned her head slowly toward him and cocked her finger at him, letting him know that she was well aware of what he'd been doing. She was not, apparently, going to reprimand him.

"That was good work, kids," she said as she heard Lionasha coming up the steps with the restorative beverages.

Kaltia took a long swallow, her eyes widening with pleasure at the taste. "Hey, where does this come from?"

"The ever tropical planet of Clarf," Laria said. "There are some advantages to it and this is one of the nicest ways to drink replacement electrolytes. Of course, the 'Dinis prefer lemonade, but they're not shifting tons about."

"Do they grow citrus fruits on Clarf now?" Morag asked, licking her lips to be sure she'd got all the liquid.

"A varietal grows here but it's Earth lemonade they adore," Laria said. "Now, we all take a siesta at this time of day, especially newcomers."

"Why? We haven't been outside or anything," Morag said.

"I'm conserving your energies for the afternoon session, which can be heavier," Laria said, swinging her legs to the side of her couch before she finished her drink. "Besides, you should get settled into your rooms."

Sliding from their couches, the girls went down the steps, where Morag halted, eyes widening at the stacks on Lionasha's desk.

"Hey, I can help with that. I used to do it on Iota and you've far too many. May I?" she said, already finding a chair to draw up to the littered desk.

"I really would appreciate the help. It's all those tubes\" The word came out with an emphasis short of resignation.

"Vanteer? Do you think we could rig some sort of a ramp to channel the tubes into stacks?" Kaltia said, stepping down into engineering as he began to drop generator power to idle.

He handed her a stylus and a pad. "Go to it, gal."

"That's what this Tower has needed," Kincaid remarked, offering a hand to Laria. "Young eager blood! A transfusion for us weary weight lifters."

"I've these sorted, Lio," Morag was saying. "Now how do I contact the recipients?"

"That"—Lionasha took the pile from Morag—"is where our 'Dinis assist. Here's another set. Fraggit, but I'm glad you read 'Dini that fast. I still have to puzzle. Fig, Sil, Nim and Dig . . ." She beckoned the 'Dinis over. "As soon as you've got these done, you can show Kev, Su, Dar and Sim how we arrange them for collection. Then you may take the girls' 'Dinis out for a look round."

GOOD, GOOD. WE DO FAST. Fig, who was organizing things in the absence of Tip and Nil, handed out the sorted files. The experienced 'Dinis picked up com units from the rack, and as they dialed the appropriate numbers, explained to the newcomers how distribution was handled. Fig was as good as its boast, and within half the time it usually took, thanks to Morag's deft help with Lionasha, the 'Dinis went out of the Tower to rack the message tubes where they could be collected.

WE'RE DONE, WE'RE DONE. WE GO. BACK LATER, Sil announced, opening the door just wide enough to lean its head inside and deliver the message.

"Wow," exclaimed Lionasha, looking with deep relief at the clear workspace. "No wonder Lyons are the Primes of choice," she added, grinning at Morag.

"Well, we're still learning, you know," Morag said, with such modesty that Laria, overhearing, laughed. "Honest, sis. There's a lot more in such a busy Tower as Clarf than there ever was at home, for all the big daddies we had to heave."

"What do you think about a setup like this, Laria?" Vanteer asked, showing both the Prime and Kincaid the sketch pad. "This'd be easier to construct. . ." The stylus tapped the third drawing. "But this might be more efficient. And dead easy to put up. Could have one done by morning, I think. I know Lvlr can get us the materials and have them

here by dark. Might even get it to give us the benefit of its expertise. Lev's done some bits and pieces for us before now."

"Then you'll keep us?" Morag asked, eyes round and mocking.

"You just bet we will!" Laria and Lionasha chorused, and they all burst out laughing.

Your report and the materials collected on the surface are still being analyzed, Jeff told Thian on the Washington. His mental chuckle echoed in his grandson's mind. / am reliably led to believe by no less a personage than High Councillor Gktmglnt that the planet you've so adroitly investigated is completely atypical of the Hiver colonies and has confounded all the Mrdini experts. Ours as well, despite the fact that we may not have had as much experience with the species as the 'Dmis.

What's the gist, Grandfather? The xenbees here will want details. When such are formulated, a copious report will be sent. Right now confusion reigns. One: Your Hivers do not appear to have sent out any spheres, since you say there has been little use of the available ore deposits and the sphere they used to arrive there is deteriorating. Two: The queens are a third smaller than our specimen at Heinlein Base. Three: Eighty installations on a planet that size are unusually few, since Xh-3S had ten times that many and, to judge by the age of their oldest sphere—fragments have been analyzed—Xh-33 is a much younger settlement. Four: The inactive worf^-ers you found in the stable, holding place, whatever, are also much smaller than usual. Five: According to Mrdinis, Hivers always send off excess queens.

If there are no excess queens?

Aye, there's the rub, Thian. There should be and there aren't. Yet that colony is by far the oldest, judging by the analysis of the sphere fragments— it should have sent off colonies in peeping with the currently understood Hwer patterns.