The Bones of Zora

X - THE PALACE

Three days later, the squadron returned to Jazmurian. A lieutenant accompanied the three Terrans to Angur's Inn and led their ayas away. Reith paid Angur' for baths for himself and his companions, saying to Marot:

"I don't care if you think three tubfuls extravagant! This isn't the French boondocks. If your Institut makes a fuss, I'll pay for the extra two myself."

Later, Reith told his companions: "I must go to the railroad station, to see if the trains are running again."

At the station, the clerk said: "Nay, sir, the break in the track hath not yet been repaired."

"When will service be restored?"

The Krishnan spread his hands. "Bákh knows. The Chilihaghuma not only tore up that stretch of track but also destroyed a bridge. In another eight or ten days, belike."

Reith reported back to his friends at Angur's, saying: "This probably means we'd better go by ship. It's too late in the day to start looking for berths; so we might as well take it easy till dinner and afterwards go to bed early."

"But we ought to dance, to celebrate your escape!" said Alicia.

Reith clapped a hand to his forehead. "Woman! Are you a flesh-and-blood creature, or a mechanical marvel that never runs down?"

"My cogwheels are of the best quality. Come on, Superman! You don't want to admit that a poor, weak woman can outlast you, do you?"

"Whatever I've said about you," said Reith, looking martyred, "I've never once called you 'weak'."

Next morning in the big bed, Alicia giggled. "And you're the one who feared he wouldn't have enough pep for dancing last night!"

"It's the quality of the inspiration, darling," said Reith.

She drew back and looked at him. "Fergus dear, for one who's just proved himself a super-lover, you look unhappy— troubled. What is it, dearest?"

"Nothing, darling," said Reith, forcing a smile. "Just thinking how to get us safely back to Novo."

This, Reith knew, was not what really troubled him. Ever since the rescue, he had been torn by conflicting urges. She had aggravated his turmoil by giving him long, level, open-faced looks, with raised eyebrows—looks that said plainly: well, when are we going to get married again? Love, covetousness, and gratitude for the rescue urged him on.

On the other hand, his hard-earned caution, and a lively memory of their stormy life together, restrained him. He told himself: she's a wonderful person, but she's still the same tempestuous Alicia. She would boss you, bully you, argue with you, reorganize your life for you and, on the least pretext, lose her temper and scream at you—if she didn't use a blunt instrument on you. In a moon or two, you and this spitfire would be right back where you were before she left you. One traumatic marital breakup is enough!

She said: "Do you know what I wish, darling?"

"What?"

"That you and I had met way back, before either of us had experience of sex, and that we'd gotten married then, and that there'd been nobody but just us ever since. If you believe the books, that's how lots of people used to do it."

"A lovely idea, Lish. But of course, you might not have liked me as a shy, skinny kid with his nose in a book."

"I don't know about that. But I know I was a horrible person to live with. So you wouldn't have liked me, either."

"Maybe; maybe not. Unfortunately, life isn't like a reel of tape, which you can rewind and edit and play over again. I guess we have to act out our current segment of tape, and right now that means getting up for breakfast."

Reluctantly, she unwrapped her arms from around his bony torso and untangled her legs from his.

At breakfast, Reith said: "Our next job is to find a ship for Majbur. Can I leave you two to your own devices for a while?"

Marot: "I shall go look at the trains."

"Lish?"

"I'd like to go shopping, now that we're in funds."

"I don't advise it. This is a tough town for a woman to wander alone."

"Oh, fishfeathers! I've knocked around by myself all over the lands of the Triple Seas. Besides, we've fixed Lazdai's wagon."

"Just listen for a minute, sweetheart!" said Reith earnestly. "I promised not to order you around any more. So I did not say, thou shalt not shop! If you must, go ahead. But I'll be back in a couple of hours; and then, if you like, we can all go out to buy things together."

"Oh, all right. Then I'll work on my journal for a while."

Relieved at avoiding another confrontation with his headstrong amorex, Reith borrowed a scooter from Angur. The harbor master's office was in a cupola atop the customs building, whence that functionary could look out over the neighboring roofs to keep track of the ships that entered and left the harbor. Reith climbed the circular stair to his office and greeted the occupant:

"Hail, good Master Peyuz! Do you remember me, Fergus Reith?"

"Certes! How go your tours? Have ye brought a swarm of Ertsuma to gape at our sights, ogle our wenches, and finger our merchandise?"

"I have only two, which is hardly a swarm. We wish to book passage to Majbur forthwith. May I see the list of sailings?"

It transpired that the Kubitar, of Captain Gendu, left at noon the following day for Damovang, Majbur, and Darya. "A well-found ship, not above a year old," said the harbor master. Reith asked:

"Does any other ship, leaving soon, not put in at Damovang?"

"The next is the Garm, bound for Majbur and Reshr; but that sails not till twelve days hence."

Reith chewed his lip. At the moment he was inclined to propose remarriage to Alicia. This morning at the inn, she had been quite reasonable in following his advice. If she kept on improving ... But he had a feeling that to stop to visit her native friend, President Vizman of Qirib, would somehow upset the delicate relationship between them. On the other hand, a twelve-day delay would get them to Novo at a date uncomfortably close to the departure of the Juruá for Terra. With a sigh he decided on the Kubitar.

When Reith found the Kubitar's berth, he pushed up the gangboard amid a stream of longshoremen bent beneath bags and boxes. A towering captain, standing at the head of the plank directing stowage, looked sharply at Reith as he approached.

"Captain Gendu?" said Reith. "I am Fergus Reith, a Terran as you see. We are told you expect to sail at midday tomorrow."

"So we shall," growled Gendu, "if landlubbers get not in the way of our lading."

"I regret to trouble you, but have you accommodation for three passengers to Majbur?"

"Oh, that's a different story. Aye, we have, and welcome ye shall be. Chindor!" he shouted at his first officer. "Show this gentleman our passenger cabin." He turned back to his loading.

The passenger accommodations, which occupied the central part of the deckhouse aft of the captain's quarters, were a small compartment with four bunks. There were two on each side and ladders for reaching the upper berths. A door on each side opened on the deck.

"When do you expect to reach Majbur?" Reith asked the mate.

"If the winds hold fair, we can arrive in five and a half days, including the stop at Damovang."

"That's good time."

"Aye, but this be a new ship, with hull unfouled by growths marine and sails new and flat, not stretched into bags by wind and wave. For now, she's the swiftest merchantman on the Sadabao."

Reith paid for three passengers, promising to be on the pier well before sailing time.

Returning from the docks, Reith found Marot studying a wooden rail coach and took him to the ticket office in the station building. He said to the clerk:

"Here are the stubs of three tickets to Majbur, bought about a ten-day ago. We were on the train that was held up short of Kolsafid, and I wish a refund."

The clerk wagged his head. "That I cannot do, O Terran," he said in an arrogant tone. "The rules clearly say that, to obtain a refund, ye must apply within three days of the cancellation."

"What! But my friend here and I were abducted from that train and taken to Chilihagh. How in Hishkak could we apply for refunds from a prison cell in Jeshang?"

The Krishnan spread his hands. "That's your misfortune. Rules are rules, and we cannot make exceptions for every whim of chance."

Reith reddened. "Look here, young fellow!" he roared. "Know that I am Fergus Reith, planetary manager for the Magic Carpet Travel Agency. Doctor Marot is one of my tourists. It is ridiculous for the railroad to let a passenger be kidnapped from a train and then refuse to return his fare. What is your name?"

"I—You have no right to ask that," said the clerk, losing assurance.

"I shall find out, fear not. Who is the highest railroad official in this building?"

"The—the vice-president, Master Lazkar. But he sees none without appointment."

"He'll see me! Where is his office?"

"Really, good my masters, there's no need to roil the waters over this matter. If ye say a refund is in order, doubtless ye know whereof ye speak. How much paid ye?"

Leaving the station with money in his pockets, Reith smiled. "That's the sort of thing we sometimes have to do, Aristide. My trade calls for a thick skin and plenty of brass. I'm a shy, timid fellow at heart, but I've learned to act the blustering bully when necessary. The trick is to know when to bluster; one can be in my business for years and still not get the hang of it."

Reith paused to examine the sundial in the center of the square. "Let's collect Alicia and go shopping, to replace the stuff those damned cowboys stole."

They bought toothbrushes and razors. Alicia got a new sewing kit. Marot replaced the flute he had lost at Zora with a Krishnan instrument of similar form. All three obtained wide-brimmed straw hats like those they had seen at the ranch.

Their boots were disintegrating; but Krishnan footgear had to be made to order, and the handwork would take a ten-day. Alicia said: "On the ship, we'll go barefoot until we get to Majbur. But wouldn't it be nice if we could buy new underwear? I don't know about Aristide, but yours and mine are falling apart."

"It is the same with me," said Marot with a self-conscious smile.

"I don't know," said Reith, "whether the Terran culture trait of wearing underwear has spread so far from Novo. We'll see."

They canvassed a number of shops. In each, Reith said: "Good afternoon, madam. Do you have underwear for sale?"

Each time, the clerk would roll her eyes, wag her head, and sadly confess: "Ah, no, sir; there's no underwear here."

Alicia giggled. "It looks as if you two will have to risk exposure when the wind catches those kilts."

The Kubitar worked her way out of the harbor under six sweeps manned by the sailors, who then shook out the two big red-and-yellow striped triangular sails. A steady south wind bore the vessel swiftly out into Bajjai Bay, where it overtook and passed a tubby coastal craft.

"When do we reach Damovang?" asked Alicia eagerly, leaning on the rail.

"About mid-morning tomorrow, I think," said Reith.

"Fine! We'll get a good look at Mount Sabushi."

"What mountain is this?" asked Marot.

Reith explained: "Mount Sabushi rises steeply behind Ghulindé of which Damovang is the port. A thousand or so years ago, some ruler with big ideas ordered Mount Sabushi carved into a seated statue of the war god Qondyor, who held the city in his lap. By now the crag's pretty well eroded away and no more than an odd-looking mountain; but it's still one of the sights on the tourist track."

After dinner, the three companions gathered on the fan tail, to watch the red disk of Roqir sink behind the dark horizontal line of the Jazmuriano hinterland. Alicia said: "Aristide, why don't you get that flute thing you bought? You can play while Fergus and I dance."

Reith said: "I thought we'd danced enough at Angur's last night to hold you for a while."

"Don't be an old poop! I want to try out that new Krishnan dance we saw them doing, the one that looked like the Zulu back on Terra. How about it, Aristide?"

"I have not yet mastered this instrument, with its unfamiliar scale ..."

"Oh, that's all right! If you hit a false note, we'll never know the difference."

The last ruddy rays of the setting sun saw Reith and Alicia trying out the steps of the kormez, to the uncertain tune of Marot's chari. The helmsman became so fascinated that Captain Gendu came aft to roar curses at him for letting the ship drift off course.

Reith admitted to himself that, while dancing in general was a chore, with Alicia floating feather-light in his arms, it became a delight. Gazing at her classic features in the light of two moons, he thought: I don't care if she is difficult at times! Nobody else on two planets can be such marvelous fun; and the sheer pleasure of being with her, when she is in one of her sunnier moods, is worth a few pains. I'll ask her to marry me the first night out from Damovang, when Karrirh's at the full. It's taking a chance, of course, but what the hell ...

Then a roll of the ship sent them staggering up against the rail, and Reith's reverie ended in a gust of mutual laughter.

The Kubitar dropped anchor outside the harbor of Damovang to await inspection. Not until early afternoon did the ship make fast to a pier. As the gangboard was lowered into place, a brass-helmed Qiribo officer strode aboard.

"Captain Gendu!" said the one. "Have the goodness to present me to Doctor Ah-lee-shah Dah-eek-man."

"That's her yonder, the Terran wench with the yellow hair," said Gendu.

The soldier came to attention before Alicia, banging his fist against his cuirass in salute. "Doctor Dyckman!" he said loudly. "I, Lieutenant Gilan of the Republican Guard, have the honor to present to you the compliments of President Vizman, and his request that you and your Terran companions attend him at dinner and accept the night's accommodations in the palace."

"Well—ah—that's very kind," said Alicia. She looked at Reith and Marot. "Have you boys any objections?"

"Captain!" Reith called. "When do you plan to sail?"

"Tomorrow ere noon, if not hindered," growled Gendu.

The lieutenant gave a tight-lipped smile. "He shall sail when ye have returned to the ship, and not before."

"It looks okay to me," said Reith, with unspoken misgivings in his voice. Marot nodded agreement.

"You may tell the President," said Alicia regally, "that we shall be delighted to accept his invitation. But how did he know that we should arrive on this ship?"

"The President reads the manifests of all incoming vessels," said Gilan, "and saw your name on the list." The lieutenant saluted again, did an about-face, and marched ashore.

"Oh, dear!" said Alicia. "If only I had some new clothes ..."

"Rubbish, darling!" said Reith. "In that dress the Sainians gave you, you could run for Miss Krishna and win over any conceivable competition."

"You mean Miz Krishna," she said. "They have such a beauty contest on Terra now, for divorcés only."

"Which class does a remarried divorcee fall into?"

"I don't know. Perhaps it depends on whom she remarries. Come on, let's go ashore and walk a bit before we take a nap!"

The day had been a scorcher in Ghulindé. The presidential palace, innocent of Terran cooling technology, offered little relief. Sweating in his substantial Zorian finery, Reith envied the locals, wearing nothing above the ankles but a square of gauze pinned over one shoulder and allowed to flap and gape as it pleased.

At the palace, the three travelers were led through corridors, past pairs of guards who looked them over and let them pass only when the usher leading them identified them. One hall was lined with statues of former queens of Qirib. During the revolution, someone had gone through the hall knocking off the marble heads, and now workmen were cementing the heads back in place and repairing chipped features.

The three Terrans were taken to a large chamber, at one end of which stood a dining table laid for six. Vizman er-Qorf, President of Qirib, greeted them suavely and kissed Alicia's hand. He proved a large, heavy-set Krishnan, older than Reith had anticipated, ponderous of movements and mien.

Vizman introduced his guests to two other Qiribuma: a mature, cigar-smoking female, the Secretary of Commerce; and a small male, presented as Parenj er-Qvansel, leader of the opposition party. They stood about drinking falat while the Krishnans plied the Terrans with questions about their Zorian adventure.

When dinner was announced, Reith found himself across the table from Alicia, who was placed on Vizman's right. Marot sat on the President's left; beside him sat the Secretary of Commerce; then Reith, and finally Parenj, on Alicia's right.

Reith realized vaguely that the food was excellent, but he paid it little heed. For one thing, the Secretary of Commerce, whose name was Kiri, wanted to know all about the economics of guiding Terran tourists. She asked:

"When may we expect you to bring a party of these Ertsuma hither, good Master Reit'?"

"I hope," Reith replied, "to include Ghulindé in the itinerary of the next set."

"Indeed?" Kiri leaned toward Reith, thrusting out a bulbous breast, bared by her exiguous garment. But there was nothing sexy about this female; she was all business. "Tell me, how much spending money would your Terrans carry, and what share thereof can our shopkeepers expect to garner?"

Reith struggled to form an estimate, distracted as he was by the sight of Alicia, wholly occupied with President Vizman. The two were speaking in undertones with their heads together. The small Krishnan politician, the leader of the opposition, tried to carry on a conversation with Marot across the diameter of the table.

Eventually the repast was cleared away and kvad poured. A trio of musicians entered, seated themselves, and began to strum and tweetle. A dancer, clad in a few beads, turned a cartwheel into the chamber and launched into an acrobatic dance. She proved that she could, by muscular control, move each breast in a separate circle. The lamplight sparkled not only on her ornaments but also on the drops of sweat that beaded her face and athletic body.

When the dancer departed, a female singer took her place. Reith was glad to escape the inquisition of the Secretary of Commerce, whose mind was as voracious for facts as a yeki for meat. Sweating, Reith picked up his silver goblet for another sip of kvad.

At the sight of the level of the liquid, he frowned. He was sure he had drunk at least one gobletful and perhaps two; but his drinking vessel seemed to remain full no matter how much he drank. He became watchful, vaguely aware that the dancer had reentered the chamber and was flitting about behind him.

When the singer finished, a flunkey came in and whispered in Parenj's ear. Rising, the opposition leader bowed to Vizman, excused himself to the other guests, and followed the attendant out. From beyond the dining hall, sounds of a scuffle and a shout of protest arose, above the chanting of the songstress. Then these sounds died away.

"It is unfortunate," said Vizman evenly when the singer had finished, "that Parenj should compel me to cause his arrest whilst our Terran guests be in residence. Today I received evidence that he planned an uprising and had arranged for my assassination." The President sadly nodded his head. "He is the fourth such leader whom I have been forced to dispose of. His was the last opposition group."

Reith blinked, wondering if he had drunk more than he intended. The heat had tempted him half-unconsciously to keep sipping. Although his head buzzed and the walls seemed to sway, he managed to ask: "Your Excellency, are you—have you—does this mean that Qirib will become a one-party state?"

"Aye. I fear my people are not yet ready for a government of your parliamentary Terran type. Here, the purpose of politics is to magnify oneself, enrich one's friends, and exterminate one's foes. I have striven to give the Qiribuma a liberal rule, but I have been compelled to defend myself and my party against subversive plots and murderous conspiracies.

"Let us not, however, dwell upon these sordid realities. One of our poets, the eminent Sarhad er-Sandu, will give a reading."

The poet, a lean, stooped, eyeglassed Krishnan, held a scroll in both hands. In a high, thin voice, he announced:

"To begin, I shall read a composition of my own, The Fall of Malayer, telling the tale of this tragic event, all too recently in the minds of all here.

Although the Krishnans' long-winded rhetoric often made Reith impatient, he liked their poetry. It had a fine, rolling swing; moreover, it actually had form, rhyme, and meter, qualities missing from most Terran poetry for a couple of centuries.

Reith found it hard to give the poet his full attention, however, because at the other side of the table Alicia and Vizman continued whispering. Closer, Kiri was asking Marot for his views on the evolution of Krishnan life. Every time the paleontologist started a carefully-phrased answer, the Secretary of Commerce broke in with a comment or another question. She was not the sort to hold her tongue for any mere entertainer.

When Sarhad had finished the poem, he said: "I shall now read from the celebrated epic, Abbeq and Dánqi." He gave a wry smile. "Fear not, gentlefolk; I do not propose to read the entire two hundred and sixty-four cantos. A single canto will, methinks, suffice. This is the forty-first ..."

The poet launched into the vast metrical romance. Reith had more trouble following, because the language was an archaic form of Gozashtandou, with many obsolete words. He had once, while a prisoner in Dur, tried to read it himself, but he had never gotten beyond a few cantos.

Between Kiri's ever more strident voice and the difficult dialect of the poem, Reith gave up. Then he found that the dancing girl had slipped into the seat once occupied by the unfortunate Parenj. The girl leaned towards Reith with a beguiling smile and a sinuous wriggle.

"Ye Terrans seem like unto gods to me!" she breathed. "All my life have I heard of your might and wisdom. Would that I could know one intimately, instead of being a mere dancing puppet, turning back-flips for his amusement. For I, too, am a person. I breathe! I love! I rage!"

She glanced at Reith's goblet. "A moment, Master." She slid out of her chair, circled around behind Reith, and reappeared with a bottle. She filled Reith's goblet almost to overflowing.

Reith took a sip to avoid spilling the fluid and watched her undulating body as she returned to her chair. "I have no doubt of your personhood," he said dryly. "But tell me, Mistress— what's—ah—what's your name?"

"Shei, my lord."

"Well, Ss—Sh—Shei, tell me: Have you been sneaking kvad into my goblet every time I set it down?"

She gave a delighted laugh. "My lord must have eyes in the back of's head! I was commanded to make sure ye never wanted for refreshment."

"How much have you poured for me this evening?"

"How know I? A splash now and then. But hold; ye've emptied one bottle and are halfway through your second."

"Great Qonyor!" muttered Reith. That must, he thought, be the equivalent of over half a liter of Terran whiskey. No wonder ...

"Art ill, Master?" said Shei anxiously.

"Yes, little one. I must with—withdraw. Pray present my apologies to the President."

The poet had finished and departed some time since; Reith suspected that the poor fellow had cut his canto short when he saw he was not holding his audience. Shei darted around and whispered in Vizman's ear. When the President nodded and resumed his conversation with Alicia, the girl came back and helped Reith to rise unsteadily. He staggered out with an arm around Shei's neck. Like Alicia, the dancer was stronger than she looked.

Vizman had assigned the Terrans three separate bedrooms. Reith had planned, after the palace had quieted for the night, to move from his own room into Alicia's. Now he reeled into his room and saw the walls waver. He wanted to lie down in his clothes and pass out; but he feared he might vomit and make a mess. He grabbed a bedpost and lowered himself heavily to a seated position on the bed, clinging to the post. While he sat staring stuporously, Shei busied herself with his buttons and buckles.

"Lie down, Master!" said Shei. "Ye will feel better anon."

Reith collapsed on the bed, and Shei pulled off his clothes. The bed, he found, developed the alarming property of whirling round and round, like a small airplane out of control. He was wondering how to bring it out of its tailspin when consciousness fled.

Hours later, Reith opened a sticky eye. A glance at the window showed the night sky paling into dawn. He looked at himself, sprawling naked in a tangle of bedclothes. As he shook his head to clear it, he saw that Shei lay beside him, breathing evenly. When he raised himself on one elbow, the motion aroused the dancer, who came awake instantly. She asked:

"How fares my lord this morn?"

"A slight headache, but otherwise intact. What—what are you doing here?"

"What? Why, good my sir, what think ye?"

"Suppose you tell me."

"I'm here to serve your pleasure. What ye command, that I will do."

For the blink of an eye, Reith was tempted to take Shei up on her offer. But a host of other thoughts crowded this idea out. He looked at her narrowly, asking:

"Shei, did you go back to the party after you put me to bed?"

"Aye, for a little while, to report to the President."

"What happened?"

"He commanded me to return to you, and here I am."

"You don't know what the others did after that?"

"Nay; how could I?"

"Was this—getting me drunk and then spending the night here with me—planned in advance?"

"Why, be ye displeased, my lord?" Her antennae drooped, betokening grief.

"Just answer my question, please."

"Well—ah—the President instructed me to make sure your goblet was kept ever full, and to care for you anon an the drink should overcome you. That I have striven to do."

"I don't blame you," said Reith, thinking hard. "I just wonder ..."

After a silence, she said: "My lord, be ye not fain to make love? I'm said to be good at it."

"No. Put on your beads and go your way. I have other things on my mind."

"But—"

"I said go!" Reith spoke in such a grim tone that Shei grabbed her negligible costume and fled.

Reith got up, wincing at the pain in his head, and closed the door behind her. When he opened it again, he was shaved, dressed, and showing no sign of his excess the night before save a pair of bloodshot eyes.

Peering about, he oriented himself in the palace. His room, along with several others, opened on a hall. The hall was decorated with enormous candelabra, converted to burning natural gas, the common illuminant in Ghulindé. A suit of antique armor stood in a comer. At the far end, a pair of brass-and-scarlet-clad guards stood with bared swords before a double door. This, he surmised, led to the President's private quarters.

Reith gently turned the knob of the next door. In that room Marot, in his ragged underwear, lay atop the bed snoring.

The next room, if he remembered rightly, was Alicia's. This proved empty, and the bed had not been slept in. But a couple of Alicia's toilet articles lay on the washstand.

Reith came out, closed the door, and turned towards the double door at the end of the hall, where stood the impassive guards. The knowledge that he had dreaded and tried to push to the back of his mind struck him like a blow in the solar plexus.

For a long minute he stood bemused. While he hesitated, one of the double doors opened and Alicia came out, walking briskly towards her room. She was reaching for the doorknob when she noticed Reith and halted with a sharp little intake of breath.

"Good morning, Doctor Dyckman," said Reith, keeping his voice under firm control.

"Oh!" she said, her blue eyes becoming large and round. "You—you know, then?"

"What do I know?"

"That I—you know—the President—oh, Fergus! I didn't mean to hurt you, but I had to do this, even though I hated it ..."

"Do you mean he took you by force?"

"N-no, nothing like that. But he made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"What was that? Gold? Jewels? The First Ladyship?"

"No, no! It was a great social good. I'll explain after breakfast. Now we're supposed to join Vizman as soon as we can get Aristide up—"

"Present my apologies to the President; I'm going back to the ship."

"But Fergus, you can't! That would be—"

"I'd better go, or I'm likely to kill the guy as soon as I see him. Good-bye!"

Reith reentered his room, closing the door sharply. He gathered up his toilet articles and marched out. Alicia had disappeared, but voices came from Marot's room. Although tempted to eavesdrop, Reith resolutely turned away and walked out of the presidential palace, stopping at the cloakroom to recover his sword from the sleepy attendant.

Loading of the Kubitar was almost complete when two litters appeared at the base of the pier. The bearers set down their chairs. Marot and Alicia got out, paid off their chairmen, and walked out to the ship. As they boarded, Reith gave them a glance of cold indifference and showed inordinate interest in the operation of a man-powered crane at the end of the pier.

After the ship had been towed out of the inner harbor, the striped sails filled with a steady south wind. Standing at the rail, Reith heard a small voice: "Fergus, I've got talk to you."

"Go ahead, Doctor Dyckman."

"Very well, Mr. Reith. I didn't do what I did on a whim, or because I've suddenly fallen in love with Vizman. Anyway, he's turning into just another dictator. He used to be full of ideals, but I suppose power has corrupted him, as they say."

"That has a sadly familiar sound to a Terran. But go on."

"Neither was it for fun. Krishnan males don't give me pleasure, since they're all through almost before you realize they've started. Other Earthwomen have told me the same thing."

"If you didn't screw Vizman for those reasons, then why?"

"I told you about my giving him Terran views on slavery. He'd prepared an emancipation proclamation and had been waiting to issue it at a suitable time. Well, he offered, if I'd sleep with him, to put it out today, regardless of the political risk. He still wants to marry me; but when I said that was out of the question, he'd settle for one night.

"We figured you'd sleep late after all the kvad Shei poured into you, and I'd be back in my room before you woke up. Then Shei was to stay with you. Did you have fun with her?"

"No. As soon as I was conscious, I sent her packing. I wanted to be true to you, if you know what fidelity means.

Besides, I sensed that something was fishy, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it."

She sighed. "Always austere and rational, that's you. If you'd taken your pleasure of her, then even if you'd found out about Vizman and me, you couldn't have made such a fuss about it. Well, my little plot backfired. Was it so wicked for me to lend my poor, shopworn body to free all those miserable slaves, sweating their lives away in the mines in the Zogha Mountains?"

"Not wicked, exactly. Contraproductive, perhaps."

"How do you mean?"

"You wanted two incompatible things."

"But it's not as if I were your wife, or even your fiancée. You never asked for a commitment. Your position was like the lover of one of Madame Kyumi's girls in the Hamda'. Some have sweethearts to whom they're sincerely devoted; but they don't let that interfere with business; and the lovers accept the necessity. So I had a perfect right—"

"Of course you did. My feelings don't count."

"I didn't know you had any."

"My fault, I suppose, for trying to do the reasonable thing. Thanks, anyway."

"What?" she exclaimed.

"I said, thanks. You've given me the answer to a question I've been asking myself."

She sniffed. "So that's it! See if I care! In fact," she spat, "if you'd asked me, I'd have turned you down and laughed at the look on your face! You never loved me as a person; all you wanted was free cunt. Why don't you go buy yourself a tailed female slave? She'd give you all you really need from any woman!"

Reith assumed a grim smile. "Okay, then, we understand each other. Well, Doctor Dyckman, as you say, you're a free, independent woman. If you want to return to Novo, I'll try to get you there as a simple matter of duty. If you go off on your own, that's okay, too."

His voice rose as his self-control began to slip. "Meanwhile, since you're so fond of extraterrestrial copulation, why don't you go fuck Captain Gendu and his crew, one after another? You might get a book out of it, or at least an article—"

Alicia stamped her foot and screamed: "Oh, stop it! Stop it! Shut up! Aren't things bad enough? You don't have to aggravate them by being bitter!"

Reith started to roar: "And why shouldn't—" He bit back the rest of the sentence and forced himself to assume a blank expression. In a level tone he said: "Me, bitter? My dear ex-amorex, whatever gave you that idea? And what do you mean, 'things are bad'? Far as I can see, they're just fine. Now I'm going to take a nap before lunch. So long!"

Later, when Reith stood at the rail, watching the sea drift past, Marot said quietly: "Fergus, my friend, I do not pry into such matters; but I could not avoid hearing some of your conversation. If there is anything I can do ..."

"You can tell me how not to fall in love with a former wife—or, I ought to say, how to fall out of love with her. I can't seem to get over her, no matter what she does."

Marot sighed. "The poet Ovid had some advice: Do not see her. Burn her letters and other reminders of her. Keep busy. Engage in the sports. Take a journey. Avoid sentimental books and plays. And finally, find another woman. I cannot improve on these suggestions."

"Most of them are completely impracticable aboard the Kubitar. But thanks anyway."