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You hear？ Lark leaped on the passing phrase and knew it had begun again…their game of hints and revelations； mutual scrutiny of clues and things left unsaid。
〃I can see why we gave it up； on Jijo；〃 he mented。 〃The urs would hate it； their hands are more personal than their genitals。 Hoons and qheuens would crush our hands and we'd squash the tendrils of any g'Kek who tried it。〃 His fingers still felt tingly。 He resisted an urge to look them over。 Definitely time to change the subject。
〃So；〃 Lark said； trying for a businesslike tone of equality； 〃you've never been to Earth？〃
One eyebrow raised。 Then she laughed。 〃Oh； I knew we couldn't hire you for just a handful of biodegradable Loys。 Don't worry； Lark； you'll be paid in answers…some answers…at the end of each day。 After you've earned them。〃
Lark sighed； although in fact the arrangement did not sound unsatisfactory。
〃Very well； then。 Why don't you tell me what it is you want to know。〃
Asx
EACH DAY WE STRIVE TO MEDIATE STRESS AMONG our factions； from those urging cooperation with our uninvited guests； to others seeking means to destroy them。 Even my/our own sub…selves war over these options。
Making peace with felons； or fighting the unfightable。
Damnation or extinction。
And still our guests question us about other visitors！ Have we seen other outsiders lately； dropping from the sky？ Are there Buyur sites we have not told them about？ Sites where ancient mechanisms lurk； alert； still prone to vigorous action？
Why this persistence？ Surely they can tell we are not lying…that we know nothing more than we have told。
Or is that true； my rings？ Have all Six shared equally with the mons； or are some withholding vital information； needed by all？
That i should think such a thing is but another measure of how far we are fallen； we unworthy； despicable sooners。 We； who surely have farther yet to fall。
Rety
UNDER A SMALLER； SHABBIER TENT； IN A DENSE grove some secret distance from the research station； Rety threw herself onto a reed mat； pounding it with both fists。；
〃Stinkers。 Rotten guts an' rancy meat。 Rotten； rotten； rotten！〃
She had good reason to thrash in outrage and self…pity。 That liar； Dwer； had told her the sages were good and wise。 But they turned out to be horrid！
Oh； not at the beginning。 At first； her hopes had shot up like the geysers back home in the steaming Gray Hills。 Lester Cambel and the others seemed so kind； easing her dread over being punished for her grandparents' crime of sneaking east； over the forbidden mountains。 Even before questioning her； they had doctors tend her scrapes and burns。 It never occurred to Rety to fear the unfamiliar g'Kek and traeki medics who dissolved away drops of clinging mule…fluid； then used foam to drive off the parasites that had infested her scalp for as long as she could remember。 She even found it in her to forgive them when they dashed her hopes of a cure for the scars on her face。 Apparently； there was a limit even to what Slopies could acplish。
From the moment she and Lark strode into the Glade of Gathering； everyone seemed awfully excited and distracted。 At first Rety thought it was because of her； but it soon grew clear that the real cause was visitors from the sky！
No matter。 It still felt like ing home。 Like being weled into the embrace of a family far bigger and sweeter than the dirty little band she had known for fourteen awful years。
At least it felt that way for a while。
Till the betrayal。
Till the sages called her once again to their pavilion and told her their decision。
〃It's all Dwer's fault；〃 she muttered later； nursing hot resentment。 〃Him an' his rotten brother。 If only I could've snuck in over the mountains without being seen。 No one would've noticed me in all this ruckus。〃 Rety had no clear notion what she would have done after that。 The oldsters back home had been murky in their handed…down tales about the Slope。 Perhaps she could make herself useful to some remote village as a trapper。 Not for food…Slopies had plenty of that…but for soft furs that'd keep townfolk from asking too closely where she came from。
Back in the Gray Hills； such dreams used to help her pass each grinding day。 Still； she might never have found the guts to flee her muddy clan but for the beautiful bright bird。
And now the sages had taken it away from her！
〃We are grateful for your part in bringing this enigmatic wonder to us；〃 Lester Cambel said less than an hour ago； with the winged thing spread on a table before him。 〃Meanwhile though； something terribly urgent has e up。 I hope you'll understand； Rety； why it's bee so necessary for you to go back。〃
Back？ At first； she could not bring herself to understand。 She puzzled while he gabbled on and on。
Back？
Back to Jass and Bom and their strutting ways？ To the endless bullying of those big； strong hunters？ Always boasting around the campfire about petty； vicious triumphs that grew more exaggerated with each telling？ To those wicked oafs who used fire…tipped sticks to punish anyone who dared to talk back to them？
Back to where mothers watched half their babies waste away and die？ To where that hardly mattered； because new babies kept on ing； ing and ing； till you dried up and died of old age before you were forty？ Back to all that hunger and dirt？
The human sage had muttered words and phrases that were supposed to sound soothing and noble and logical。 But Rety had stopped listening。
They meant to send her back to the tribe！
Oh； it might be fine to see Jass's face when she strode into camp； clothed and equipped with all the wonders the Six could offer。 But then where would she be？ Condemned once more to that awful life。
I won't go back。 I won't！
With that resolution； Rety rolled over； wiped her eyes； and considered what to do。
She could try running away； taking shelter elsewhere。 Rumors told that all was not in perfect harmony among the Six。 So far； she had obeyed Cambel's request not to blab the story of her origins。 But Rety wondered…might some urrish or qheuen faction pay for the information？ Or invite her to live among them？
It's said the urs sometimes let a chosen human ride upon their backs； when the human's light enough； and worthy。
Rety tried to picture life among the galloping clans； roaming bold and free across the open plains with wind blowing through her hair。
Or what about going to sea with hoons？ There were islands nobody had ever set foot on； and flying fish； and floating mountains made of ice。 What an adventure that would be！ Then there were the traeki of the swamps。。。
A new thought abruptly occurred to her。 Another option that suddenly appeared to lie open。 One so amazing to contemplate that she just lay there silently for several duras； hands unclenching at last from their tightly clutched fists。 Finally； she sat up； pondering with growing excitement a possibility beyond any other ambition she had ever conceived。
The more she thought about it； the better it began to seem。
XI。 THE BOOK OF THE SEA
Animals think nothing of race； clan； or philosophy。
Nor of beauty； ethics； or investment in things that will long outlast their lives。
All that matters to beasts is the moment。
All that counts is self。
Mates； offspring； siblings； and hive…consorts；
All these offer continuity of self。
To even a loving beast； altruism has deep roots； founded in self…interest。
Sapient beings are not beasts。
Royalty binds even the innately egotistic to things nobler； more abstract； than mere continuity； or self。
To race； clan； or philosophy。
To beauty； ethics； or investment in fruits you and 1 will never harvest。
If you seek the downward trail； the long road to redemption…
If you want a second chance； shriven of your grief and worry…
Seek that path by returning to the soil；
In forgetfulness of race； clan； or philosophy。
Yet beware！ Lest the road take you too far。
Keep faith in something greater than you are。
Beware resumed obsession with the self。
To those who have tasted vacuum and stardust