"Then I must prove myself. My study of the formation indicates a thin wall here." The Squam slithered to a slight indentation and tapped it with one pincer. "A smash by the tractor should break it open."

"I have enough fuel for several smashes," the Erb flashed. "I will try it."

She climbed into her vehicle. Jessica assimilated a picture of the roots of the plant twining up into crevices of the machine, tendrils clinging, maneuvering the creature up.

The tractor moved. It charged the wall, colliding. The stone face collapsed, and when the taste of dust cleared somewhat, Heem perceived the flavor of confined air escaping from the ground. There was indeed a cave there.

Still, Heem had doubts. "You have demonstrated your geological expertise," he sprayed. "But I have had bad experience with your kind before, and an Erb sabotaged a bridge I was about to cross. How can I be certain either of you are better than these?"

"Sabotage?" the Erb flashed. Jessica had finally formulated an image of this: the creature angled its leaf-vanes at the primary source of light, reflecting and concentrating beams to make the meaningful patterns. It could direct a beam at a specific receiver, such as the Squam's translator, or across an arc to include several entities. "Provide the identity of that individual, and he shall be subject to retribution of law."

"He occupies the last tractor on this trail," Heem jetted.

"What was the nature of your experience with my kind?" Sickh inquired.

Now Heem could not describe this without revealing his illegal memory. 'To hell with that!' Jessica exclaimed. 'Squams don't care about HydrO metamorphosis!'

True. Squams were of the more primitive species who did not metamorphose. "A Squam came to the valley where my prospective mate resided, and preyed on her sisters, and slew her."

"Squams do not belong in your valleys!" Sickh protested. "The Covenant of Impasse is most specific."

"This one came—and is now a host in this competition. We call him Slitherfear."

"That designation does not register with me," she said. "But I assure you, if I encounter that individual, I will seek a reckoning. We are civilized; we do not violate the covenant, or tolerate those who do."

"I find this credible," the Erb flashed.

'So do I,' Jessica said. 'I vote to trust her, Heem.'

"Because she is female?" he asked her cynically.

'No, that is no recommendation. Not all female Squams are alike, you know. It's just an intuition of mine. It makes sense that a sapient, technological species has ethical values too. There will be outlaws, of course—you are one yourself, and I am too, really—but mostly the individuals will be civilized, especially the highly educated ones. For us, this is a much better gamble than it would be not to cooperate, and wash out of the competition. So let's trust these ladies, and treat them fairly, following the golden rule.'

"Metallic law?" Heem inquired, not quite grasping the concept.

'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.'

"I accept this," Heem sprayed externally.

"Then let us agree that we shall navigate this passage in company, and that no one of us will seek access to the Ancient site until all three are through the mountain ridge," the Squam said.

"Agreed," Heem sprayed and the Erb flashed. The Squam removed a length of metallic line from the Erb's tractor and wrapped it about the central portion of her body. Heem had to admit that this ability to grasp and carry things was a great asset in a situation like this. The Squam slithered into the aperture first. Heem was aware of the vibrations she made, scouting the interior by sound emanations and echoes. Heem followed, rolling down the slight incline, tasting the air in more detail. The Erb followed him, scuttling on her roots.

The air was moving. That meant the cave either had an exit elsewhere, or was so extensive that the natural processes of heating and cooling caused expansion and contraction of the air inside, therefore motion. Heem could not be sure from the flavor; it was all earth-interior taste, but with a certain strangeness.

The passage slanted almost directly into the ridge, then intersected another at right angles. This was odd; caves normally curved and changed without such precision.

The Squam halted. "Does the suspicion occur to you, companions?" she inquired, the translator spraying and flashing.

"This is no cave," the Erb flashed back. The translator emitted a steady interim glow that she could use for reflection, and this also helped her to perceive the cave. Heem knew this by the way she moved and reacted, and Jessica obligingly filled in the picture this way. The technical absence of light made no difference to Jessica's images, since they were recreated from background information and his taste-awareness. "It is artificial, but old, very old."

"Perhaps as old as the Ancients," Heem agreed.

"Had the map been accurate, I would have recognized its nature," the Squam said.

"When I approached it in person, I became almost certain the ridge was artificial. It is possible that this entire structure is a monstrous earthwork thrown up by the Ancients. Do you agree?"

"The Ancients were great earthmovers," Heem agreed.

"My geological expertise becomes suspect, here," Sickh said. "There could be danger of collapse, in an unnatural structure."

"It has remained intact for three million years, it should remain a day longer,"

Heem sprayed. "And if we have here access to the Ancient site—an access the Competition Authority is not aware of—"

"It would not be valid," the Erb flashed. "This is not a competition of discovery, but of dominance. The Star who first reaches the designated site will assume legal control of it. We must strive for that spot." She paused. "In addition, this is not a true Ancient site. The structure is not typical of recorded examples. I could detail this—"

"No need," Heem sprayed. "You are the expert on the Ancients."

"Then let us continue," the Squam decided. "We may have a more ready access than we had hoped."

They continued. After a time the passage leveled out. Then it debouched into a huge chamber, larger than the lava-bubble, level on the floor and vaulted in the ceiling.

"This place is considerable," the Squam said. "But barren."

Heem agreed. His taste detected no boundaries to it other than the near one.

'Must have been a storage room,' Jessica hazarded. 'Maybe a barracks for their troops.'

"But if this is not of Ancient construction—"

'But there is an Ancient site nearby. Maybe the Ancients took over a building built by a prior species.'

"A species prior to the Ancients?"

There were other creatures! We just call the highly technological one the Ancients, for convenience.'

They continued across, and in due course found a passage leading away from the opposite wall. But it slanted down, not up. "I distrust this," the Squam said.

So did Heem. The competition objective would be on the surface. At this rate, they could pass right under it— and lose the competition.

Yet where could they go, except on? To backroll and follow the tractor trail now would be ruinously slow.

Then the passage slope increased, dropping abruptly into water. 'Oh, no!'

Jessica moaned. 'The sewer system!'

"This appears to be a drainage conduit," the Erb flashed. "The Ancients did not employ such devices."

"My transferee agrees," the Squam said. "Many older civilizations have employed such systems, but the Ancients do not seem to have utilized liquids in sufficient quantity to require any drainage system. However, this seems typical of a configuration we recognize, in which case there should be access vents on both sides of a submerged conduit."

"I will investigate," Heem sprayed. He rolled past the Squam and into the water.

The taste was old, yet not stagnant; there was some circulation, and enough dissolved gas to sustain him. This water had originated on the surface not long ago; perhaps it was the residual drainoff of a recent storm. Into what lower chamber it might flow he could not guess.

Then he encountered a network of metal. It was a grate, preventing access by large objects. He shoved at it, but the thing was secure. No passage for travelers here! He himself might squeeze through it, slowly, reforming his tissues on the far side, but neither Squam nor Erb could do that. 'And we are not going to leave them stranded,' Jessica reminded him firmly.

He rolled back, emerging into the air passage. Jessica, filling in illumination in her mental image where there was none, showed the Squam and Erb, waiting expectantly for the news.

"The way is barred," Heem reported. "The flavor of the water indicates access to other air passages beyond, but there is current and the taste of other grates. I might pass, but you cannot."

"My sonar indicates no more direct route toward the Ancient site than this,"

Sickh replied. "We must force passage. Windflower, are you able to function beneath water?"

"I am," the Erb replied. "In fact, my roots are dry, and in need of immersion. I will force passage through the gate."

"Then if you will accompany Heem to that grate, he will lead you beyond it to the next exit to air."

'Know what?' Jessica remarked. 'She is using our given names, and that makes us seem more like people than like alien creatures. That Squam is really trying to get us to work together.'

"I do not like being alone with the HydrO," the Erb protested.

"Heem's needles can not harm you in water," the Squam pointed out.

"True!" Windflower flashed, surprised.

"If you will also carry the end of this cable, you can draw me through to air,"

the Squam continued. "I am unable to function effectively or endure long immersion. I must inhale oxygen and other gases to sustain my life processes."

"In addition to eating?" Heem inquired.

"We all have our failings," the Erb flashed tolerantly.

The Squam accepted these remarks with excellent grace. "My life will be in your care."

The Erb, encouraged, fastened a loop of line about her main stem and moved to the water. Heem followed.

At the grating, the Erb twined her roots into the sediment below, anchoring herself more securely than any animal could, then closed her petals into the formidable power-wedge. The drill rotated and shoved forward into the grate.

There was a skin-shocking vibration, and the bars ripped out of their moorings.

No wonder Squams were afraid of Erbs! Heem had known intellectually that the plants had good torque, but had never imagined the extent of it personally.

Windflower dropped the twisted grate into the deeper water ahead. It sank down into the crosschannel, and Heem tasted the flavors of the sediment it stirred up. Soon he had a clear picture—Jessica's image was helpful again —of the whole local section of this intersection. He rolled himself down into the other conduit, flattening himself against the current, and came up into the mouth of the pipe on the opposite side. The grate here was firm, too.

The Erb joined him. But now there was a problem. The gate was too high for her to reach from the floor of the large conduit, when her drill was formed. Heem could not communicate with her linguistically, in the absence of the translator, but tasted the problem clearly. They were balked again.

'Could she stand on you?' Jessica inquired. There it was! Weight was not much of a factor, here in immersion. If the timid Erb would trust him enough...

Heem nudged down beside Windflower's roots. She yanked them out of contact as if burned. He flattened his base, fitting it to the caked floor of the conduit, and humped his body. And stayed there, motionless.

The Erb was intelligent. Soon she realized what he was offering. Tentatively she touched him with a root. Heem remained firm. She brought another root. Finally she climbed on top of him, anchoring her roots uncomfortably in his soft skin.

He did not like this contact any better than she did! Yet there was an alien delicacy in Wind-flower's touch that had a strange appeal.

'She's female,' Jessica said. 'Males like the female touch, and you are a soft touch for—if I were only physical—' She stopped, having reminded herself of the futility of such speculation.

"In Solarian hosts—people touch closely?" Heem inquired. "Not merely jetting each other from a distance, but making tight contact—like this?"

'They do. Not precisely like this, as we don't have physical roots, but close, yes. It is called an embrace.'

"Disgusting!" Heem said involuntarily.

She laughed. 'It really can be a lot of fun, Heem; you'd know that, if you could ever try it.'

"Perhaps," he agreed, becoming curious. After what he had learned about the alien sense of sight, and about cooperation with assorted alien creatures, he was becoming more liberal about alien values.

Suddenly his whole body was shaken. The Erb was starting her drill. Heem braced himself despite the cruel grip of her roots in his flesh. There was a terrible wrench that half tore him from the floor. 'Hang on, Heem! She's drilling the grate!'

He knew that. Heem hung on. The wrenching seemed intolerable. Vegetable fibers were really tough, to absorb this kind of punishment. Then, abruptly, it eased.

The grate was free!

Windflower cast the grate away. She extricated her roots from Heem. This, too, was painful. But he had survived the worst, and his skin had not really been damaged.

They proceeded up the passage until they emerged in air. They were through the sewer system! Windflower still dragged the cable after her. Now she anchored herself in the dirt of the new passage, but was unable to draw in the cable. Her upper tendrils were adept at holding, but not at hauling.

'We can handle that,' Jessica said. 'Put the line on the floor, and roll along it, drawing up the cord in a pulley action—know what I mean?'

"No." Heem had not used such a cord before.

She formed a picture, and suddenly it was clear. Heem positioned himself atop a slack section of cord, then rolled it along until it entered the water. Here there was a loop where the weight was off it. He inserted his body into that loop, formed a crease the length of his topside, and let the loose cord fall into that groove.

'Like a yo-yo,' Jessica said, flashing another image. 'Now curve around, hanging on to that string, until you can draw it away from the water.'

Following her image-instructions, Heem did. He was able to turn, carrying the cord along with him in the groove. When he rolled away from the water, the slack was taken up. Now as he pushed forward, the taut line had to loop over his body getting pushed down to the floor, where his weight held it in place. He was, indeed, like the pulley she visualized, drawing on the cord without ever truly grasping it. Or like the tread on a tractor, passing around the forward wheel.

This was hard work, abrasive on his skin, but he knew it was necessary. He heaved, and heaved again, and again.

Finally the Squam emerged from the water beside the Erb. One set of pincers were clamped on the end of the rope; another grasped her translator. Her front and rear extremities dragged behind. "My appreciation to you both," the unit sprayed and flashed, none the worse for its dunking. "I could not have navigated that water alone. My sonic orientation is completely unreliable in fluid."

'Which is one reason your accurate needles can mess up a Squam,' Jessica remarked. 'Squams depend heavily on hearing, and water in the wrong place shorts them out.'

The Erb withdrew her roots from the floor and stretched her limber stem, relaxing. She had been detectably nervous the whole time she had been alone with Heem; now the presence of the Squam gave her relief. The two of them, Erb and HydrO, had worked well together, but without the translation unit and personal reassurance of the Squam, the Erb never would have done it.

'Compliment her,' Jessica advised. 'Make her like you. All females like to be complimented. It will make her easier to get along with.'

Heem decided to accept the advice of the local expert on female nature.

"Windflower was primarily responsible," he sprayed. "She tore out two grates and anchored the line, despite hardships."

The Erb did not comment. 'She's paying attention, though,' Jessica assured him.

'She knows you did a lot of work, and gave the credit to her.'

Sickh rewound the cord about her body, and they moved forward. The tunnel now tended upward. Were they near the end?

"I hear something," Sickh said. "There is a living presence in this passage."

'Oh-oh,' Jessica said.

Heem concentrated. Yes, the drift of air carried a sinister flavor. "Animal, not plant," he agreed. "Yet I had understood there were no dangerous animals on Eccentric."

"Oddities occur in the depths," the Squam remarked. "Small creatures, feeding off fungus, could exist here, their eggs protected somewhat in winter."

The proof was not long in arriving. A swarm of furry-bodied little things came down the tunnel. Heem tasted the hairs of their torsos and the calluses of their feet, spreading out before them.

"They emit light," the Erb flashed. "They are vision oriented, but unlike my own kind these produce their own beams, though these are faint. There are many of the creatures, perambulating on three appendages with a root behind that assists in balance. They appear to be an eating species."

'Bad news,' Jessica said ominously. 'Those eating species are in bad repute in this neck of the Galaxy.' Heem had no doubt the other transferees were remarking to their hosts similarly.

"Perhaps they merely pass through, on their way to water," the Squam said.

Forlorn hope! In a moment the horde was upon them. "They have weapon-orifices,"

Windflower reported. "Cutting edges formed of horn or bone."

'Teeth!' Jessica said. 'I believe these most resemble what we call rats. We're in trouble!'

There was a flash that translated into the taste of pure horror. Heem could not perceive the Erb's reflections directly, but Jessica's image made it seem real.

"They feed on me!" the Erb screamed.

Sudden pain struck Heem. "And on me!" he sprayed. A rat had used its crude toothed orifice to puncture Heem's flesh.

'Don't just sit there hurting; needle it!' Jessica cried.

Heem needled it. The creature made a vibration and drew back, wounded. Its companions pounced on it and tore it apart with their own teeth. Heem tasted the tearing of flesh, the spilling of juices. "This is worse than what Squams do!"

he sprayed, forgetting the undiplomatic nature of the remark.

"They are consuming undigested flesh!" Windflower flashed.

"Appalling," Sickh said. "Digestion should always take place outside the body so that the waste products can be eliminated."

Two more rats came at Heem. He needled both, destroying them. Meanwhile, the Squam slithered to join the Erb, who seemed to be largely helpless before this attack. Sickh's pincers clicked; Heem felt the vibration, tasted the squirting rat-juices, and knew that the Squam was protecting the Erb's tender roots.

But there were more rats charging down the hall. They were small, but there was something peculiarly horrible about that footed travel. 'The commotion has attracted the whole neighborhood of monsters,' Jessica said. 'They'll never stop coming. We've got to get out of here before they overwhelm us.'

"They don't like water," Heem announced to the others. "They shy away from even my glancing jets. We must retreat to the sewer."

They retreated. Heem got nipped several more times; the creatures darted in so swiftly it was hard to needle each one in time. He was sure the Erb was having a similar problem. Only the Squam was immune—which was fortunate, because the Squam could not remain long in the protective water.

They reached the water and immersed themselves. The rats lined up at the edge, flashing their little beams, balked.

"It seems we are secure for the moment," Sickh flashed. "But how are we to progress to our objective?"

"You can progress," Heem jetted from that part of him that remained above the water. "They cannot penetrate your armor."

"I may not progress alone; this was our covenant. We must free all of us—or none of us."

'She means it,' Jessica said. There's nothing holding her here but honor.'

"Honor in a Squam!" he sprayed, marveling.

'It was not so funny in the lava-dome! You're still trying to judge a whole species by a single individual.'

"We can retreat the way we came," the Erb flashed.

"And yield our chance in the competition," Heem jetted.

"These vermin are discouraged by water," Sickh said. "Our friend the HydrO

fathomed that, most astutely. Perhaps we can make further use of this."

"The monster is seeking to compliment me," Heem sprayed internally to Jessica.

"Exactly as you had me do to the Erb."

'And you like being on the receiving end, don't you—even from a Squam?'

Heem made a taste-wash sigh. "Yes. I am an easy wash for female folk."

'As I have known for some time.' But her spirit was momentarily light.

'Underneath all that gruff jetting, you're a pretty nice guy, Heem.'

"Now you're doing it!"

'Well, Squams of a feather...'

"Feather?"

"Never mind.'

"Would it be possible to flood the passage?" Windflower inquired. "This might eliminate the vermin."

"Excellent notion!" the Squam agreed. "Yet it could be difficult to do what the eons have not done."

"We might employ the grates we removed, buttressed by other materials, to block the main drain, forcing the water level to rise," the Erb continued. "It would be difficult, perhaps hazardous. But for me, too-long-continued confinement in darkness is also hazardous and most unpleasant."

'I know exactly how she feels!' Jessica said.

"There will also be a problem making the water barrier tight," the Squam agreed.

"Yet the alternative—"

"I can make it tight," Heem sprayed. "With my body, spread over a mesh."

"With your body!" Sickh exclaimed. "We would not require such sacrifice!"

"I intend no sacrifice," Heem needled at the translator. "The HydrO body is constructed to withstand slow pressure, and to adapt shape to need. Were a suitable framework in place, such as one of those grates, I could spread across it, sealing it, cutting off the flow of water until such time as it were advisable to release the flow."

"How would you escape, when that time came? The pressure would hold you firm."

"No, the HydrO body can also pass through a mesh, slowly. I have but to allow holes to open—"

"Then you could have proceeded without us," the Erb flashed. "You did not need to have the grates removed."

"Not so," Heem sprayed, embarrassed. "Our covenant—"

'Yes indeed,' Jessica said smugly.

"What I cannot do," Heem jetted, "is set the framework in place."

"I can do that," the Squam said. "But I could not remain to anchor it as the water rose. I must have access to air."

Strange, Heem thought, how he, who lived entirely on gas, could immerse himself indefinitely in water; while the Squam, who was only partially dependent on gas, had to have it regularly. This was worth noting, should he find himself in conflict with a Squam near water. Even a brief immersion might seriously handicap the creature.

"I can anchor it," the Erb volunteered.

"Then I believe we have a feasible course of action," Sickh concluded. "If we can flood this passage high enough to drive the vermin completely out, we may be able to traverse it before they return. If we then cannot win through to the surface near the site, we shall have to retreat to the tractor and await assistance by the Competition Authority, for we will be out of the race."

Heem moved down inside the main conduit, exploring by touch and taste. They were in luck; the tube narrowed shortly below their crossing. There seemed to be a huge old valve, half buried by sediment, whose operation was beyond their power, but whose constriction provided a certain lodging site for their grates. He rolled back and reported.

"Two grates are sufficient?" the Squam inquired.

"One grate will cover it," Heem assured her. "But there are holes in the grates Windflower removed, where her drill lodged. Better to use both grates, overlapping, to cancel out the holes and make it more secure. They will have to be held in place until pressure builds behind them."

"And when that occurs, pressure will diminish in front of them," Sickh said.

"There will be air there, perhaps."

"There is a pocket of air at the valve now," Heem jetted, remembering. "Trapped where the conduit bulges and narrows. It is usable; I tasted it."

They worked out the details quickly and went to work. Windflower lifted and carried the grates slowly to the valve and leaned them beside it. Then she hauled Sickh down on the cable—actually, the Erb anchored it, and the current brought the Squam along. Sickh helped move the two grates into precise place, then fastened her pincers on them and held her air intake high so as to reach the pocket of air. Windflower set her roots firmly in the sediment below and twined her smaller upper tendrils into the grates, anchoring the metal upright.

And Heem spread himself flat, forming a wide but shallow disk across the face of the grates-network, preventing the water from passing through.

Immediately the pressure rose. There had been a fair current here, signifying a considerable flow of water. Now this water was backing up, rising in the side passages. Because the slant of those passages was slight, a small rise should advance the water considerably along those tunnels. But how far would it have to go to remove all the vermin? If it flooded in the direction of the large central hall instead, they would never get their smaller passage cleared. They had to hope that the small passage ahead was at a lower level than the one behind them.

Heem thought it was.

"It seems we must wait a time," the Squam said. "Shall we distract ourselves by conversing? If you, Heem, are able to spray from your dry side, and if you, Windflower, can angle a vane through here—"

They managed it. The Erb poked a vane through a space between grate and curved wall, while Heem sealed over the rest. They were in physical contact with each other, but were accustomed to this now.

"I am curious, Heem, how your kind developed space technology," Sickh remarked in what Heem presumed was a standard interspecies conversational gambit. "We had assumed, until experience with the sapients of other Stars showed otherwise, that it was necessary to possess an accurate vibration or radiation perception, and to possess well-coordinated manipulative extremities. Yet HydrOs have neither. I realize you are quite competent with spaceships, tractors, and other tools—but how were you able to construct these in the beginning?"

"This is not obvious?" Heem sprayed, surprised.

'Of course it's not obvious, dope!' Jessica said from within. 'We Solarians always made similar assumptions. How can you grow, hunt, gather or prepare food, for example, if you don't have—oops.'

However, this provided Heem with the key for his reply to the Squam. "HydrOs are not burdened with the liabilities of food consumption or need for shelter that certain other creatures are," he sprayed delicately. "Consequently the whole of our attention may be freed for intellectual and tactical challenges. We can move objects of considerable size by pushing or rolling them, but preferred to develop machines to do such brute work for us."

"Yet how did—" the Squam began.

Heem found himself enjoying this. "We taste-analyzed a variety of substances, and found that some possessed traits that would serve. Jetting certain stones with certain force caused them to yield trace electrical currents we could taste—"

'Semiconductor diodes!' Jessica exclaimed. "And certain metals conducted currents from one region to another, with particular arrangements causing this flow to change its nature, dissipating itself in heat or causing an attractive force for other substances—"

'Wires, transformers, resistors, magnets,' Jessica continued. There you have the basis for the electric motor!'

"And the appropriate combination of such substances and currents led to the first crude electrical machines. It really was not difficult, since we could taste the nature of each circuit and flow quite readily. Our small machines were employed to construct our larger machines, in a progression extending ultimately to space itself. It has been a matter of conjecture to us how creatures possessing no refined analytic taste, so as to be unable to comprehend the finer properties of matter, could ever achieve a similar level of technology."

"You are marvelously lucid," Sickh said. "I grasp now that you proceeded from the molecular level to the macroscopic level—a sensible procedure. My kind went the reverse route, utilizing the principles of gross leverage and exploitation of combustible substances to fashion large, crude machines, which we then refined to smaller, more precise ones. We progressed most rapidly in sonics, but did in time achieve some competence in other technical fields."

'As her multi-species translator attests,' Jessica remarked. 'That's a pretty neat gadget, you know, considering its small size.'

"And we Erbs," Windflower flashed, "commenced with optics. We were aware of the stars of the universe from earliest times; indeed our constant observation of these nocturnal phenomena may have been the primary stimulus for our achievement of mobile status. We desired to explore those lights more closely, and early realized that each was as bountiful a source of life-giving light as our own near Star. We commenced with optics; from simple reflection, such as we do in ordinary communication, we progressed to laser technology, then spread our leaves to intercept the illumination of other disciplines. We were amazed to discover that sapience was possible without vision. Yet it would seem, in retrospect, that sapience can arise from virtually any form, when conditions are otherwise appropriate."

"Even among species who are sighted, limbed, and consume food," Heem agreed.

'I'll get you for that!' Jessica said.

"We do seem to achieve the ultimate unity in sapience, however divergent our origins," Sickh agreed. "It is possible that not all of us will survive. In the event I do not emerge from this situation, I ask the survivors to let it be known what happened to me and my transferee, who has of course supported our effort and assumed identical risks. She is Hov of Star Salivar; her species, she regrets, somewhat resembles the vermin of this passage, physically, but she is a very pretty personality."

"Physical substance means nothing," Windflower flashed. "There are plants that focus light indiscriminately, burning everything about them, and other plants who are constructively sapient. We are glad to know you, Hov of Salivar."

"Appreciation, Windflower of Erb."

"My transferee also wishes to be known," the Erb continued. "She is Wryv of Star Ffrob, a fungoid sapience."

They exchanged polite greetings with Wryv.

Heem's turn. "Should we inform them?" he asked Jessica.

'Oh, go ahead! I want to be known too—at least to these friends. Spill the beans.'

Heem was momentarily repulsed by her image of food, but proceeded. "I am the HydrO species representative," he sprayed. "My transferee is not of Thousandstar. She is Jessica of Star Sol of Segment Etamin, similar in biology to the Squam, but possessed of sight, and female."

There was a pause. "Do I miscomprehend?" Sickh inquired at last. "I know of Segment Etamin of the barely known Far Galaxy, and vaguely of Sphere Sol in the stellar wilderness. But I had understood you to be male."

"It is unusual, but we do have a female transferee in a male host," Heem sprayed.

"Unusual!" the Squam cried. "This is the understatement of the—"

"Why then," Windflower flashed. "I should not fear you. A sighted female—"

"This is female illogic," Heem jetted. "Typical also of my transferee."

'All right!' Jessica snapped. 'If it gives her comfort, let it be.'

Sickh was more serious. "Does this remarkable juxtaposition account for your transition from the robust personality of Ship H-Sixty-six to the thoughtful individual who summoned assistance for one of my kind? There would seem to be the touch of the female there."

"I was not inclined to assist your kind," Heem admitted. "She urged me to it."

"Let her flash with us!" Windflower pleaded.

Heem turned over the body to Jessica. If these creatures supposed he had been pretending, and thought to trap him by means of female dialogue, they would be disappointed.

"Hello, girls," Jessica said. And they proceeded to a merry trialogue while Heem snoozed.

He was jolted back to awareness by a question addressed directly to him. Jessica had returned the body to him. "Is the water level high enough?" the Squam inquired. "We cannot afford too much passage of time, lest others reach the site ahead of us and bring our entire effort to nothing."

Heem tasted the water. "The flavor of the drainage indicates that a considerable expanse of formerly dry passage has been covered, and some vermin have perished.

But there seem to be more remaining."

"Let us wait a small delay longer," Sickh decided. "The vermin must all be removed."

"Not too much longer," Windflower flashed. "I have been some time out of light, and have expended energy; I weaken."

"And I begin, pardon the expression, to hunger," the Squam agreed. "Yet there will be inadequate time to feed. Do you suppose, then, that it is safe now to let the water ebb?"

"Safe, no," Heem opined. "But if the vermin are sub-sapient, they may not realize when the flow reverses, and will remain clear for a time."

"Let us gamble, then. We face a crisis of another kind if we delay too long."

The crisis of a hungry Squam? Heem drew in his body, letting the water leak through the valve. He wanted to drain the reserve rapidly, to give the vermin less time to discover the change.

This turned out to be no gentle flow. A fierce current manifested, tearing at their bodies. Heem tried to slow it by spreading himself again, but was unable; already the grates were being shoved sidewise, and he had to disengage quickly or be carried away himself. He flattened himself against the wall of the valve instead, half surrounding the Erb. Something clamped painfully on his flesh, giving him a taste-memory of his fight with Slitherfear on the Squam's machine-floater so long ago. He hung on as the turbulence tore at him. All their tedious labor, about to go for nothing, as they got carried down the conduit!

Because of a single error of judgment on his part. 'Don't blame yourself, Heem,'

Jessica said. 'Nobody anticipated this.'

"But I am accustomed to fluid dynamics. I should have been careful!"

'How often have you dealt with minion-year-old sewer systems? We all make mistakes, especially when we're in a hurry. Just hang on!'

He hung on, as she put it At last the turbulence eased. The water was returning to its original level, though not to its original taste. The sediment had been swirled up and resuspended, changing the flavor. Heem also tasted the juices of dead vermin, carried along by the current. At least something had been accomplished.

He discovered that one of Sickh's pincers was clamped on his flesh. That was what he had felt, in the melee. The grip was painful—yet he knew it had been desperation, for otherwise the Squam would have been carried away. The Erb moved up toward the side tube. Heem started to follow—and was balked by the Squam.

'She is unconscious,' Jessica said. 'Maybe drowned. We've got to get her out of the water, Heem!'

Heem tried. The cable was gone, and the translation unit; he could not even ask the Squam to let go—and if she did, she would be lost, for he could not carry her. He rolled forward, jetting forcefully through the water, heaving her body around and over him. The water made her light; he could do it. When she was before him, he rolled over her; no way to crush her armored body! Then another heave. This was excruciating, but he was making progress. He wrestled Sickh around the corner and up the exit tube. At last they emerged into air.

Windflower was there, but could not see them in the dark. Her tendrils ran over them worriedly, finding the clamped pincers. Then she knew. Her drill formed, the hard point nudging into the pincers, and suddenly they spread. Heem was free.

The Erb picked up the Squam's body with an effort of convolution, and shook it.

Water dripped out of its orifices. Sickh stirred, responding weakly.

'She's alive,' Jessica said, relieved. 'It would have been terrible if she'd drowned.'

Heem had to agree. He would not have believed he would ever feel that way about a Squam, but of course he had never interacted with a lady Squam before. This one had complimented him with obvious artifice, yet he had been swayed.

Now they were here in the vermin-passage, without cable or translator. They had to go on. Heem hoped there would be no more problems; the present ones were almost overwhelming.

Sickh recovered enough to slither. They moved forward as rapidly as they could.

Heem led the way, knowing that the Erb could no longer see, while his own perception was unimpaired; he could discover any hazard in time to block her off from it. The Squam could perceive well too, but was not strong now.

The vermin were gone; the flowing water had vanquished them. The water had also cleared the floor of the passage somewhat, facilitating travel.

The passage inclined upward. They passed the water line and moved from damp to dry pavement, but no rats came. Heem tasted their traces; many of them had scrambled past here, but they seemed to have been terrorized by the pursuing water. A good sign.

They came to another great empty chamber, much like the first. They hurried across it, confident that they were approaching another termination. They found the opposite passage, followed it past an intersecting tunnel, and came at last to—

A chamber at the end, terminating in a blank wall. Just like the one they had broken into, beginning this nether trek.

'A barracks, for sure,' Jessica said. 'Individual sleeping quarters, and a central mess hall—two units, for two battalions, mirror images of each other, with a common drainage system. Only problem is, how do we get out?'

"The Erb drills us a hole," Heem replied.

'Have you been watching Windflower lately? She's been without light a long time; she's wilting on her roots. I don't think she can do it.'

To make it worse, the rats were returning. Perhaps these were strangers who had not encountered the rising water, so remained bold. Fortunately there were fewer of them; foraging must be worse at this periphery. So far. But with the Erb unable to see them, and very tired, and the Squam not much better off, this was bad.

The rats were getting bolder. There would be worse trouble than losing the competition if the three of them did not get out of this labyrinth soon.

The Squam acted. She fastened a pincer on the Erb gently, and guided her to the outer wall. She tapped against it meaningfully. The Erb would have to try to break through, tired or not. Their lives depended on it.

A rat charged, sensing that Windflower was the vulnerable target. Heem rolled to intercept it, needling it accurately. The thing rolled over, its three legs kicking in air. Heem positioned himself behind the Erb, guarding her from further attack, while the Squam guided her drill.

They were cooperating efficiently—without the translator. Because they knew each other, trusted each other, and because they had to.

The drill started. Even Heem could tell it was not going at proper strength. It bit into the wall. The taste of rock dust sprayed out. Then chunks of rock were split off and dislodged. The face of the wall cracked. She was doing it!

The drill stalled. Windflower leaned down. Heem surveyed her, alarmed. There was a taste of spoilage about her.

'She's wilting!' Jessica cried. 'Her last strength is gone! She's got to have light, fast!'

The rats, aware of their advantage, scuttled in. Heem needled three at once, amazed at his facility; few HydrOs could perform that well. 'It's the vision,'

Jessica said. 'Remember how it helped you thread the needle of Holestar? Now you can see the rats, and wipe them out. It's excellent practice.'

So it was. Never had Heem had so precise a control, for more than a single needle at a time. But he wanted to be sure of his new power.

More rats were pressing close. They had discovered the fringe of his range, and crowded just beyond it; even with enhanced accuracy, there were limits. Soon they would charge, in too great a number for him to withstand —unless he kept them occupied by extending his range.

The Erb sank to the floor. The rats nudged near her extremities. Heem spread himself half over her, needling outward, protecting the length of her. It seemed futile, since they were trapped here and would inevitably perish, but he had to fight to the end.

And—he rather enjoyed this target practice. He was getting better, scoring on individual rats at twice his normal distance, forcing the whole horde back uncertainly. He was decimating them from a distance, and might eventually eliminate them all—if more were not constantly skulking in from the rear passage.

The Squam slithered to the side. Two rats attacked her, biting at her torso.

They could not hurt her, but she was evidently annoyed; she picked one up in each pincer and crushed them so that their juices squirted, and hurled them bleeding into the mass of their kind. She was stronger now; she would survive the rats. But she could not pass the sewer alone, so she too was doomed.

Sickh tapped the wall with a pincer. She slithered farther and tapped again.

What was she doing? 'She's sounding it for the thinnest section, for fractures,'

Jessica explained. The Erb weakened it; if impact at one place will break the rest of the way through—'

Satisfied, the Squam did just that. She tapped harder, until she was smashing all three pincers together at the wall. Bang-bang-bang— Heem felt the small vibration of it, building.

There was a larger shudder as something fractured. 'She's doing it!' Jessica cried, with the same excitement Heem had had before. 'She's found the fracture point! Now if only she can exploit it.'

Sickh slithered out into the center of the chamber. Then she moved rapidly toward the wall, hurling her armored body at it. This time the impact was much greater. Again the wall shuddered, and chips of rock fell down. But there was no breakthrough. 'If only we had a tractor, as before,' Jessica said.

The rats were becoming alarmed by the vibration. They were evidently very sensitive to collapses of stone, as they were to flooding of passages. They scuttled wildly about the chamber. The Squam paused.

'She can't get up proper speed with those rats in the way!' Jessica said. 'We'll have to clear them out. Let's see what we can do, Heem.' She formed a picture of the creatures, and imagined little concentric-ring targets on each body. 'Target practice—final exam.'

Heem oriented himself, gathered his fluids, and fired an amazing fusillade of needles in one salvo. Jessica had spotted seven of the rats, precisely, and he needed all of his uncanny new accuracy now. Any he missed would get in the way again while Sickh was moving. Long distance, he scored on six rats. The seventh was only wounded; quickly Heem reoriented, and this time he finished it. This was not only his best effort to date, it was the most accurate multiple needling he had ever tasted of any of his kind performing. He was a super-HydrO!

'Now don't get a swelled head,' Jessica cautioned him. 'If you could jet through that rock wall, then you'd have something to crow about.'

He was getting used to her irrelevant vernacular. But she was right; he owed his expertise to her vision, not to any merit of his own.

The way was clear. Sickh charged across, smashed into the wall, and fractured it. A section of the wall fell in. There was an abrupt if small change in flavor. The rats retreated, frightened. 'That's the taste of light!' Jessica cried. 'Striking the dust, drying the water. She's broken through!' But now the Squam fell to the floor, inert. The collision had damaged her. She moved one pincer weakly, then folded herself together and lay still.

'So close, so close!' Jessica moaned. 'Either of them, just a little more—and we who retain our strength can not exert it here. The irony!'

"Light!" Heem sprayed. "The Erb—she needs light. If we can get her in it, she might recover."

He tried. The rats were no menace for the moment. He devoted his full attention to the task, shoving part of himself under Windflower's body, then jetting as if for an uphill roll. His advancing surface shoved her forward before she slipped beneath him. Try it again, Heem!' Jessica cried. 'Get her into that beam of light!'

Heem shoved again, and again, each time moving her a small distance. She was not firm, like a rock; she was irregular and bendable, hard to get any purchase on.

The job was tediously slow. But at last they came up beside the Squam, and Windflower's stem slid into the light.

The Erb stirred. Her leaves moved as if blown by wind; the taste-ambience shifted. She curved around, seeking that light, absorbing it.

The rats came back, acclimatizing. They were, after all, visual creatures; they made flashes to see. The more forceful radiation from outside startled but did not actually hurt them. 'Keep them off,' Jessica said. 'We've got to give Windflower time to recover her strength. Maybe she has reserves she can draw on, when she sees light at the end of the tunnel.'

"She can see it," Heem said, though he suspected Jessica had not meant precisely what he had understood. He kept the rats off, still practicing his marksmanship.

But his own strength was waning. His constant effort had heated his body; his hot needles were effective, but he needed to cool or he would start to destroy his own tissues. His reservoir of fluid was diminishing; he was using up the free hydrogen in this region faster than the slow air circulation replaced it, and every needle used yet more. Some fresh air was coming in through the crack in the wall, but not enough. He was moving into a hydrogen-deprivation stage, and it was uncomfortable.

'Don't give up, Heem!' Jessica urged. 'Windflower is recovering. Just keep the rats clear a little longer—' And she washed him a kiss of encouragement.

Heem kept them off a lot longer. He was losing consciousness, focusing only on the immediate menace. A rat would charge, he would needle it, it would fall.

Another would charge, be needled, and fall. But the range of his needles was diminishing, and the semicircle of rats was constricting. If the stupid creatures ever realized how vulnerable he was now to a mass charge—

But every time Heem sank into a misery of inattention, Jessica roused him by her pleading, threats of screaming, and murmurs of confidence and affection. After a while these things became merged in his mind like the composite taste of a crowd, but still he suffered himself to be roused. He was vulnerable not only to the rats, but also to the encouragements and threats of the alien, and had to perform.

The Erb drew herself slowly to her roots. She was standing again! She formed her wedge and put it to the crack in the rock. She applied her torque—and suddenly the rock was wedged apart, sundered, blasted. Dust flew, and large fragments of stone dropped to the floor, half burying the Squam. A huge, strong beam of starlight came in, bathing them all in its warmth.

Heem collapsed. Light made little difference to him, but the warmth of it brought his already overheated system to the verge of ruin. He had done what he could, and could do no more. He had to sag down and take in hydrogen. The Erb, at least, was free.

But Windflower did not go. She enlarged the hole, then climbed awkwardly over the rubble toward the interior of the chamber. She found Sickh—for of course the Erb could see, now—inserted her drill in the pile, and hurled out the rocks. The rats scattered yet again as the shower of material crushed down on them. What power there was in an Erb in light!

Sickh stirred. She had been inert for some time, and was now reviving. She slithered over the rocks toward Heem, toward the hole in the wall. Two would escape.

The Squam clamped a pincer on Heem's tender flesh and hauled. It hurt, but it was good; she was drawing him toward the hole.

Toward—what?

'Idiot!' Jessica berated him. 'Your crazed mind is confusing the hole with the Hole. Relax!'

Heem relaxed. This was not demise, it was rescue. Up and out they moved, into the beautiful taste and fresh hydrogen of living day. Three had escaped!

Chapter 8: Site of Hope

The rich, cool air soon restored Heem, and the intense light revived Windflower to full tumescence. The two relaxed, regaining strength, while Sickh returned to the chamber to feed on the dead rats. Windflower stretched out a root and touched Heem's flesh in a gesture of trust: she knew how he had protected her from the rats, and was signaling her gratitude. Natural enemies had become friends.

In due course the three of them resumed their trek toward the Ancient site. How much time had they gained or lost? Were they now among the leaders, or was the competition over?

They did not have far to go. There was a valley beyond the ridge, then a low hill. The fern-foliage had abated; only low brush hampered progress. From the height of the hill, which they all climbed slowly, the Erb began flashing.

Without the translator, Heem was only vaguely aware of the pattern of radiation reflected across his body, and assimilated no meaning.

Then Windflower moved laboriously in the interspecies language.

DESTINATION—NEAR, she signaled. OTHERS NEAR.

Clear enough. The truce was over; they were at the verge of the site.

Heem wished he could bid proper farewell to his companions, but this would be time-consuming in sign language and superfluous. They all knew how they related.

He set off toward the site at a swift roll.

The ground became rougher in the valley, forcing him to move cautiously, so he lacked sufficient velocity to crest the next rise. But it did not matter. A Competition Authority checkline was there. As he crossed that spread flavor, a machine spray challenged him: "Identify competitor."

"Heem of Highfalls, HydrO host. Jess of Etamin, transferee," he sprayed. Now it would come: how far back were they?

An inspection beam played over him. "No physical apparatus may be conveyed across this line. Proceed, contestant; your legitimacy is verified. You are fifth to cross."

Heem rolled on. Fifth! Right where he had to be! Their excursion under the ridge had indeed gained them time, despite their problems and delays. Now they had a fighting chance to win. He tasted entities behind him, and knew that Sickh the Squam had arrived at the checkline, and would be the sixth to cross, with Windflower the Erb not far behind. They were in competition with each other now, but Heem preferred to have them challenging him, rather than strangers.

'That's for sure,' Jessica agreed warmly. 'They're good people.'

The hill continued, and soon the Squam overhauled him, making a swerve to indicate greeting, and moved on ahead. 'We are now sixth,' Jessica said. 'But there must be another slope to roll down, soon.'

Heem checked the map, but it lacked detail within the checkline circle. Soon, however, he verified it: a nice, clear, even slope. He tasted the ambience of a body of water, overlaid by a faint flavor of alien metal. The Ancient site—across a lake.

Jessica conjured the map again, and was similarly frustrated. 'They are being deliberately obscure,' she complained. 'They're not giving us any hints what to expect here. But I can make a reasonable guess or two. I think the site is on an island in a small lake, so that every contestant has to overcome the challenge of water. Seems to me this whole region is a depression, a concavity—it may all be part of the site. A great circular excavation, with the entrance at the center. The Ancients did things like that; most of their known sites are pretty massive. There's some coding in this circle on the map I can't quite make out—'

"It indicates a structure," Heem sprayed as his rolling gathered momentum. Now he tasted the ambience of two other entities ahead, besides Sickh: an Erb and a HydrO. He would not be able to pass the HydrO, who could roll as well as he could, but was gaining on the Erb. "A building, and we must achieve its apex first, to win the competition."

He rolled past Sickh, giving her a swerve of greeting. With a lake at the base, he could afford to build up speed. Water was less bruising than land.

'How will Sickh cross?' Jessica inquired, worried.

"Fool female! We're racing against her now! We do not want her to cross."

'I suppose. But it seems unfair, since she can't traverse deep water.'

Heem rolled by the Erb and splashed into the lake. It was shallow, hardly covering him. "Squams can ford this, holding their air tubes above," he sprayed.

And dropped into a deep hole. "Of course, they will have to negotiate it with a certain care, to avoid problems."

'I think she can swim a little, but she's too solid to float, so she's got to have shallow water within range. I guess she'll make it."

This concern for a rival struck Heem as almost humorous, yet it was a facet of Jessica's personality that he found he liked. She was a gentler creature than he, despite her wild Solarian background; she had fewer hurts and savageries.

'I suppose that's right,' she agreed. 'You could use an ameliorating influence, and I could use an aggressive influence. We make a good team—' She broke off, and her hurt washed through him.

"What did I think this time?" Heem demanded. "I did not attempt to sadden you."

'Not your fault, Heem,' she said. 'It's that very soon now it will be all over, one way or another. Win or lose, we shall part—and I don't want to part.' And her emotion flooded his being as thoroughly as the lake flooded his environment.

'Oh, God, I don't! I want to be with you forever!'

And it could not be. The grief saturated him, and he knew it was not hers alone.

She was a difficult, alien, and disembodied female, totally unlike anything he had imagined before she joined him, and the perceptions and emotions she brought were strange almost beyond comprehension. But necessity had forced his comprehension of vision, and the emotion had followed. He wanted her too, for the moment and the eternity. And could not have her.

At least they could win the competition, and promote his welfare and hers, though these things were no longer as important as they had been. They would retain their memories of their mutual experience, and that was a partial good.

'Yes,' she agreed. 'Or was that my own thought?'

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

'I don't know.'

Thus, inconclusively, their reflection ended. Heem was now forging out the other side of the lake. He tasted the other HydrO more clearly now. A female, rolling up from the opposite side of the island. It was Swoon of Sweetswamp!

'Old home week,' Jessica murmured. 'She may not be much on riddles, but she certainly rolls a good race.'

However, several creatures were already at the structure: two Erbs, a Squam, and a HydrO. The four who had preceded him into the final circle.

'But we passed one of those,' Jessica protested. 'An Erb, just entering the lake. There should only be three here.'

"Erbs can function in water. It must have used its drill to draw itself through the water extremely rapidly, and pass us again."

She visualized an Erb with rotating propeller-leaves, moving so rapidly it left a turbulent wake in the water. 'Must be.'

None of the early arrivals were trying to climb the building; instead they were fighting each other. This was a vicious circle; the Squam was pinching the HydrO, the HydrO was needling the Erb, and the second Erb was drilling the Squam. Since each had to keep out of the way of the creature who could destroy it, there was more motion than action. Heem rolled to a stop, tasting the situation as well as he could from a distance. Swoon of Sweetswamp paused similarly, on the other side of the island.

'I don't understand this,' Jessica said. 'Why aren't they trying to climb the building? This is supposed to be a race, not a battle!'

"The HydrO management did not select a combat specialist randomly," Heem sprayed. "They anticipated this. If my practice with your vision and sight-needle coordination suffices, I need give way to neither Squam nor Erb.

Still, I would prefer not to fight; there is really little to gain from it.

Especially if we can ascend the structure while the others are preoccupied."

'Agreed. Let's sneak through.'

They rolled forward, cautiously, keeping a taste out for Swoon, who could reach the building just as fast as they could. They also kept track of the battle raging.

The Squam tore a piece out of the HydrO—but in the process got caught by the Erb. In a moment the Squam's armor had been wedged apart, and the creature lay broken and dying. 'You monsters don't fool around!' Jessica exclaimed, making a graphic picture of it. 'We Solarians take some time in our fights, as in our love-making, usually, having to strike repeatedly. Well—no, in swordplay it can be very quick. And my clone-brother makes love in a flash. So it depends.

Still—'

The HydrO, saved by one Erb, needled the other. The Erb wilted, its mechanism jammed and leaking sap. 'That's gratitude for you!' Jessica said indignantly.

"That is free-for-all for you." But Heem was not pleased.

One Erb remained uninjured. It used stem and tendrils to shove the helpless creatures away from the structure, including the HydrO, who had collapsed after its final needle. But the Erb did not attempt to ascend itself. Why? Heem was wary, but Swoon was rolling up rapidly, so he had to accelerate himself. The two converged, and the Erb hastily moved away. 'Odd,' Jessica said.

The structure turned out to be a tower, round and smooth. It stood somewhat taller than a fern-tree, with a spiral ramp ascending it. Simple enough for any of the contestants. But why had the Erb, obviously in a position to be first to the top, backed off? 'There's not supposed to be danger here, is there?' Jessica asked.

"Not from the Site," Heem jetted grimly. "But we cannot trust the other competitors."

Swoon reached the ramp first. She was an exceptionally swift roller, faster than Heem—which explained how she too had passed him on the approach within the checkline circle. She must have been selected for this quality, as well as for her superior piloting. In vehicle or alone, she could move. She rolled right up the ramp—and slid down again, surprised.

'Our turn!' Jessica exclaimed.

"No, wait," Heem sprayed. "There is something wrong here." He rolled to the base of the ramp and stopped.

Swoon recovered from the impetus with which she had been ejected, and approached. "It dumped me!" she sprayed indignantly. "It's roller-surfaced, impossible to mount. I wondered why the Erb backed off." Then, in an aftertaste:

"Oh, greetings, Heem of Highfalls."

"Greetings," he sprayed noncommittally. He inspected the ramp, touching its substance with his own, tasting it carefully. There were no perceptible rollers, but there was certainly a roller effect.

The Ancients had been the Cluster's finest craftscreatures; they obviously had wanted this ramp to be too slippery to ascend.

There would be no way to change that except by conforming to whatever approach the Ancients had desired. There was really no way to deal with any Ancient artifact except by its own rules, which were usually obscure. The Ancients were not merely a riddle from the distant past; they were an exciting challenge in every taste of the concept. Which was why every Star of Thousandstar was fascinated by this well-preserved site. It was not mere intellectual curiosity; there could be fantastic technological wealth here. This was the site of hope.

'I don't know,' Jessica said, also highly intrigued. She loved puzzles; Heem could feel her being coalescing around this mystery. 'Generally the live sites have aural keys, not physical ones. Could it be that this was a usable ramp for them?'

"A small flatfloater could mount this readily," Heem agreed. "Or any of the jet species. But why should the Competition Authority require us to ascend to the top, if there is no way for any of the host species?"

'I think we have here another riddle,' Jessica said, delighted. 'One set up by the Ancients, and used by the Competition Authority. To make this a real multi-level challenge, so that mere guessing at the outset, or racing ability in space or on land or in water, is not enough. The winner of this competition will be lucky, swift, and smart. Deserving in every respect. The early arrivals here merely have more time to solve the final riddle, but if they are not smart enough, they have no chance to win.'

"I do not taste it precisely that way," Heem sprayed. "A smart late arrival will never win through the stupid early ones, who will kill him rather than allow him to prevail. We shall have to solve the riddle before more competitors arrive, or we shall have to fight merely to hold our place in line. Recall what happened to the first three arrivals."

Jessica retouched her image of the three wounded and dying creatures. She needed no reminder. Lives were now at stake.

Already, Sickh was arriving, emerging from the shallow water.

'There is a globe or something at the base of the ramp,' Jessica said. 'Focus your taste on it, Heem—I want to see it clearly.'

He was more concerned with the ramp and the arriving competition, for he knew how smart Sickh and Windflower were. He did not want to needle either of them, which meant he would simply have to solve the riddle before they reached the tower. But he obeyed Jessica's directive rather than argue.

She formed a picture of a small sphere, with a line hovering inside it, balled on one end. Both globe and line gave off a faint radiation that made it possible for him to locate them accurately; he doubted it was taste, because if the particles of their substance were being constantly emitted, they would have eroded entirely away in the time since the Ancients departed. Yet it seemed like taste. Synthetic stimulation of his perception? Another indication of the sophistication of Ancient construction. Even minor details were crafted to last virtually forever, performing in manners the technology of moderns could hardly match.

Heem moved nearer the globe, touching it with a small section of his skin. The line moved, its ball swinging to point at the place of tangency. He slid his skin to the side, and the line followed.

That's a dial of some kind,' Jessica said. 'A three-dimensional indicator.

See—it points to you where you touch the globe, then remains where put when you retreat. You can set it where you want.'

Sickh was near, and Windflower was motoring through the lake. Another Squam was coming within perceiving range, too. Already this place was getting crowded, with two of each host-species in the neighborhood.

The nearest Erb set his drill, orienting on Sickh. 'Oh-oh,' Jessica said. 'That Erb gave way to us, because it is afraid of HydrOs—but it is not afraid of Squams! We'd better help Sickh.'

"You keep forgetting she's competition too! She may solve the riddle before we do!"

Jessica responded as he knew she would. 'Sickh is also a lady—and a friend.

Remember how she broke open the first crack in the wall, and how she hauled you out into the fresh air so you could recover. Without her, we would not be here at all. If we have to lose to somebody, let's lose to a friend.'

Heem acceded. Jessica had a more sophisticated conscience than he did. "The dangerous one is Windflower; she's the specialist in Ancients. She will know how to get up that ramp." He rolled toward the male Erb, who retreated expediently.

"You're letting a Squam in?" Swoon of Sweetswamp needled incredulously. "At least facilitate your own kind!" And her concluding message was flavored with a strong savor of sex appeal. But she gave way to the Squam, as she had to.

'Why that brazen vixen!' Jessica exclaimed. 'She's trying to seduce you into giving her the advantage!'

"One female really resents tasting her technique being employed by another,"

Heem sprayed with a certain resigned mirth.

'So?' Jessica demanded indignantly. 'When did I ever employ—don't answer that!'

"Too bad she's competition," Heem continued. "She has a most enticing flavor."

'All right! I'd have flavor too, if I were—never mind. Just get back to your business.'

Sickh slithered up, investigated the ramp, and examined the globe. She seemed to be able to fathom the dial as readily as Heem could; the indicator probably gave off sonic vibration too. Remarkable device!

After a moment's experimentation, Sickh aimed the ball end of the line at the Star. She slithered onto the ramp—and up it.

"The key!" Swoon sprayed, rolling close. She brushed against the globe, causing the line to change orientation— and abruptly Sickh slid to the base of the ramp.

'That's the key, all right!' Jessica exclaimed. 'I wish I'd fathomed it! Set the pointer on the sun, and the ramp freezes. Could be like a time clock, since the position of the sun indicates time of day. Move that indicator, and you roll, ready or not. Oh, do you roll!'

Sickh made a pass at Swoon with one pincer, and Swoon retreated in haste. Sickh reset the pointer, started up the ramp—and Swoon rolled in toward the globe.

Sickh halted, and Swoon halted. They were at an impasse; if the Squam mounted the ramp farther, the HydrO would arrange to dump her down again.

'I begin to appreciate the dimension of the problem,' Jessica said. 'No one can make it to the top without the cooperation of those at the bottom—who will lose if they do cooperate. Very neat challenge!'

"So the early arrivals aggravated each other in exactly this fashion, and got embroiled in a fight, the conclusion of which we tasted," Heem agreed. "Only the Erb survived—and he dared not betray the secret to us, so had to retreat without attempting the ascent. Yet why didn't he merely set the dial and rush up before we arrived? He was waiting for us."

'I don't think we've fathomed the whole mystery yet,' Jessica said. 'Maybe we should make another deal with Sickh.'

"Maybe so," Heem agreed reluctantly. "But we can't communicate with her, without translation. Not technically enough, fast enough."

'Oh, pooh! She will understand.'

Heem moved to the base of the ramp, blocking off Swoon. "Fair warning," he jetted at her. "We are in competition, and my transferee means to compete. Roll back."

"But the Squam is on the ramp!" Swoon protested.

"You are perceptive."

"I refuse to sit still for this!" Swoon rolled toward him.

Heem needled her with a long-distance, accurate shot. She rolled back, surprised at his proficiency; she was well beyond normal needle-range. Conversational jets required little physical cohesion, as their flavor alone counted; needles lost their force much sooner.

Sickh, realizing that Heem was guarding the dial, giving her a chance, slithered rapidly up.

"You are rolling away my chance, and yours!" Swoon jetted. "You are betraying the Star you represent. I can offer you so much more than any Squam can!" And she sprayed him with sexual flavor.

She certainly did have a tempting taste! No doubt she had been selected for this quality, too. Her offer would have been quite attractive, except for two things.

First, Jessica's cynical laughter was echoing through his system —a strange effect for one who could not hear. Second, he knew what happened to a HydrO

female who reproduced. Swoon was suggesting copulation, not reproduction, but still the memory disturbed him. Heem stood firm, preventing her from interfering.

Suddenly Sickh came sliding down the ramp. Yet no one had touched the dial. 'I begin to glimmer why the Erb did not race up,' Jessica said. 'The rules change halfway up. This is no minor, one-stage challenge.'

Sickh slithered up beside Heem, her forepart aiming away from the tower. 'She is giving us our turn,' Jessica said. 'I told you she would understand. She will guard the dial for us, now.'

Heem rolled to the dial. It was now mis-set—not a little, as might happen in time as the radiation from the Star changed its angle, but a lot, as if jogged entirely out of place. Yet no one had touched it. Sickh did not believe that he, Heem, had moved it either; her attitude suggested that she had failed, not he.

He reset the dial to point at the sun; Jessica's visual image helped. The ramp firmed, and he rolled up it. 'We're on our way—maybe!' Jessica said.

Halfway up the tower—one loop of the spiral—there was another globe. 'Uh—I don't think we can safely ignore it,' Jessica said. 'Obviously we have to set it too, or the whole thing bounces out of whack. But I doubt it aims at the sun; someone must have tried that already.'

Heem agreed. "But what else should it orient on?"

'I've got it! Is there a moon for this planet?'

"There are three. Only one is readily perceivable, however—and none have taste for me."

'Um. You have a mental ephemeris, don't you? A table of System bodies and times?

You can calculate where that moon is, even though you can't see it. The biggest, closest one. Yes.' She delved into the ephemeris Heem remembered. 'Let's see—it should be about there.' She added a glowing mood to her vision of the sky. 'It should not glow like that by day, but who's going to know the difference? I love this mental painting. Is it correctly placed?'

Heem verified it by his calculations. "Yes." They set the indicator to point to the moon. Nothing happened. Heem rolled on up—and the ramp turned to rollers, dumping him helplessly around the tower and down to the ground.

'So much for that,' Jessica said. The Ancients weren't much for looking at the moon. Not much romance in their hearts.'

"What has a moon got to do with romance in a blood-pumping organ?"

'Nothing.'

Windflower had arrived. Heem rolled out of the way, giving her a turn. Swoon made a spray of muted fury, but kept her distance. "She's the expert on the Ancients, isn't she?" he jetted rhetorically.

The Erb flashed at him inquiringly; Heem felt the reflected starlight on his skin, and Jessica formulated a momentarily blinding glint of light. These visual constructs were intriguing! Heem made a little spray of acknowledgment, but did not move. He and Sickh guarded the base of the ramp.

Windflower tried the ramp, and got nowhere. She investigated the globe. She oriented the indicator on the Star, and traveled up the spiral. 'Just like that!' Jessica marveled. 'She certainly does understand the Ancients!'

But in a moment Windflower came down again. She was not rolling, but twining along on her own power. Why had she changed her vegetable mind?

The lady Erb came to stand beside them. After a moment Sickh went up the ramp again. Then she returned, under her own power, as the Erb had.

'Must be our turn,' Jessica said. 'I'd really like to know what's going on!'

Heem rolled up the ramp. He reached the second globe and checked it. The indicator was oriented, but not on the moon, or anything else they could fathom.

Heem moved beyond the dial—and the ramp was firm.

'Windflower set it correctly!' Jessica exclaimed.

"Then why should she back down, instead of going on to the top?"

'Because she wasn't the first to arrive. We were asking her advice, so she gave it. She showed us where to set the second dial. Now she has repaid us for the chance we are giving her.'

"Where did she set it? It seems random to me."

'It must be something she could guess from her knowledge of the Ancients.

Something obvious. If the first dial points at the sun, the second—'

"The Hole!" Heem sprayed.

'The Hole!' she repeated. 'Of course!' She considered momentarily. 'We can't go on up; she was only showing us. We have to give her first turn. It's only fair.'

Heem did not argue with her. He rolled down the ramp.

Now Windflower went up. She made it almost to the top of the tower—then slid down rapidly, barely staying on top of her roots. 'She must have tripped a third relay,' Jessica said. 'One that's more difficult than the others.'

"Now we know how to approach it. The three of us will keep taking turns, until one of us scores. That gives us one chance in three to win—with the assurance that a friend will win if we do not. This seems worthwhile."

'Heem, I love you.'

The simple statement almost dissolved him. It was serious; there was no banter in her emotion, no teasing. They were now at the crisis point, within range of success or ultimate failure, either of which meant separation.

Heem made no overt response, because he was unwilling to reconcile himself either to victory or defeat when both meant the end. He merely accepted her statement. That was enough.

Windflower set the bottom dial and moved clear. Sickh and Heem checked it, noting the setting: the one the Erb had tried at the top. The wrong one. This was necessary information—but they could not tell what the dial pointed to. It seemed random, and it assuredly was not.

Sickh reset the dial for the Star and mounted the ramp. She paused at the second dial, then went on, approaching the top. And slid rapidly down. She set the dial, allowing them to see her wrong guess.

"Another moon," Heem decided, checking against his ephemeris. He was still bothered by his inability to fathom the rationale of Windflower's guess, which had surely been an educated one. A wrong guess did not necessarily indicate failure; it might merely be the elimination of a viable but unapproved alternate.

It was Heem's turn again. 'There's got to be some rational setting,' Jessica said. 'Some pattern I can grasp. Windflower understands the Ancients as well as anyone can, but hasn't guessed this one. That means it is either random, which I don't believe, or relates to something we have not yet understood.'

"We need to grasp the purpose of this installation," Heem sprayed. "Then we might know the correct direction."

'Yes. But what is that purpose?' They were at the third globe now, close to the top of the tower, almost directly above the base of the ramp. They had spiraled twice around the cylindrical structure, and were a fair height above the ground.

So near to victory, yet so distant!

Heem thought of rolling rapidly, gaming momentum, so as to achieve the top of the tower regardless of the friction of the surface, but was sure that would not work. The ascent was too steep and curved, and the Ancients surely had designed their site to prevent so simplistic a solution to the challenge. The low retaining wall outside the ramp might dissolve, sending him hurtling fatally to the ground... well, no, the Ancients weren't generally vicious in that manner.

But they had their ways to enforce their alien directives.

"Can't take time; the others must have their turns, before more contestants arrive." Indeed, from this elevation Heem perceived the faint flavors of one, perhaps two more Squams, and another Erb. Two creatures could not protect the ramp for long; the savage fighting would break out again. Because the only way any contestant could be quite sure of his chance was to eliminate all competition.

'Maybe straight down,' Jessica suggested. 'Star—Hole— Planet.'

Heem set the pointer accordingly. He essayed the ramp beyond—and was sent sliding around and around to the bottom. 'I'd enjoy the ride, if it weren't so serious,' Jessica exclaimed.

He rolled back to the lowest dial and set it to point down: his failed guess.

Windflower ascended again. 'Come on, we have to figure this out while we're waiting, not while we're actually on the ramp,' Jessica said. 'What was this site used for? It can't have been a mere camp, or a city, or even a spaceport; the tower is set in the center of an island—'

"There might not have been water here originally," Heem pointed out. "That must have filled in the depression later, as drainage from the surrounding hills."

The depression—yes, of course! It's all part of the site, as we thought before.

With the barracks further out. This could have been a major research station, with a monstrous reflecting telescope—'

"Telescope?"

'A visual device, like a huge—a huge eye. It gathers light or other radiation in a big sort of cup and focuses it at a central point—' She paused as the meaning burst upon them both. 'Like the apex of this tower. Heem, this is an observatory!'

Heem grasped her picture. "Our experts have used such devices to gather the radiation-taste of the wider universe. But our collectors are mobile, so as to orient on distant phenomena despite the eccentricities of local planetary motions. This is fixed."

'Well, some big reflectors are fixed—but yes, I see your point. This is more suited to maybe sending a signal out, though why so big a disk—'

The two new Squams were approaching. Heem felt a roll of tension: one of them was his nemesis Slitherfear! He wanted to fight that monster, yet he was also afraid, uncertain his needles were accurate enough. The Squam knew of Heem's prowess, and might be on guard against it.

Windflower slid down. Quickly she reset the dial, and quickly Sickh and Heem checked it. They all knew time was shortening. She had oriented this time on the planet of Impasse. That had been wrong.

Heem and Windflower stood at the base, orienting outward, while Sickh slithered quickly up. 'Not the other habitable planet of this system,' Jessica said. 'What would an observatory orient on?'

"Or a beacon," Heem amended.

'A beacon! That's it! Like a lighthouse, shining a huge beam to warn ships clear, so they won't founder. To warn spaceships away from the Hole! The rotation of the planet would make that huge bright beam flash around the sky, a quite obvious signal! Maybe it wasn't light, but some special type of radiation—or, there are infinite possibilities. The pattern would spell danger, and it might have operated for centuries, millennia—'

Heem considered. It did make a certain alien sense. "Yet this does not tell us where the third dial should point."

The two Squams, becoming cognizant of the situation, slithered in toward Heem.

But Windflower formed her drill, catching one Squam on the armored body. One scale was ripped out; the creature retreated, leaking ichor.

Slitherfear encountered Heem. The Squam seemed less formidable without his machine-weapon, and Heem felt a spray of confidence. 'No—don't let him know what you can do,' Jessica cried. 'He may think your prior victory over a Squam was a fluke, and not be properly prepared. Wait till you can wipe him out with one shot, when he's not on guard.'

Heem heeded her advice. Surprise was important, and betrayal of his power—assuming he really had it—could cause him trouble at this stage. He must seem to be a typical HydrO, so the Squam would hold him in contempt. For the moment. Objectively, Slitherfear knew Heem was dangerous, but subjectively he might not.

He needled ineffectively at the Squam's armored torso. But the needle struck precisely where he had aimed it. Thanks to Jessica's image, he was ready; he could meet Slitherfear on an even or more than even basis. When it was time.

Windflower oriented on Slitherfear now, and the Squam retreated. But Swoon of Sweetswamp rolled swiftly in from the side and needled the Erb through the stem.

It was a devastatingly accurate shot, at close range. Windflower whipped back, hurt.

Then Sickh slid down the ramp. She slithered with such force it was a virtual leap, her pincers reaching for the HydrO. Swoon rolled hastily away.

Heem moved to Windflower, wanting to help but unable. She had been punctured, and there was the flavor of her sap on her stem. It did not seem to be a fatal wound, but she was already wilting, unable to fight. Probably she had not fully recovered from the light-deprivation of the tunnels, so was more vulnerable now to such injury. She would have to withdraw from the competition, retreating to the lake, where she might endure in sun and water until the Competition Authority came to help. "Damn Swoon!" Heem sprayed angrily, borrowing from Jessica's vernacular. The concept "damn" as he understood it meant consignment to an unpleasant region.

Windflower half fell across him. Heem remained still, not knowing what to do. It was his turn to mount the ramp, but he could not simply dump his friend and leave her in this hostile group. Yet neither could he help her; he lacked the resources.

One of Windflower's leaves moved along his skin. It withdrew and moved again, slowly. Then a third time, the same line. 'She's telling us something,' Jessica exclaimed. 'Those are not random lines. I think I understand! This is more than a lighthouse—it is a marker, a surveyed-in point, for general navigation. So ships traveling the Galaxy can use it as a reference, knowing exactly where they are. There must be other survey markers —and we must point to one of them, to show that we know what we're doing, before this one lets us in. Windflower must know where such a site is, because she's studied the Ancients. She may have tried Planet Impasse just in case, but now she knows it's another site somewhere else, and she's showing us where.'

"This is farfetched, even for your female-alien light-leaping mind! So many unverified assumptions—"

A fourth time the Erb made the line on Heem's surface. Then she collapsed.

'Got any better notion?' Jessica demanded, her mental voice chill.

"No, but still—"

'We've got to use it, Heem. She gave it to us!'

That he could grasp, almost as if he had her hands. The Erb's guess might be wrong, but it was her final gift, and had to be honored. Heem rolled carefully from under Windflower's body, letting her slide gently to the ground, and rolled to the globe and set it. Sickh blocked Slitherfear. Another Erb was coming near; that would mean trouble for Sickh. He had to hurry, to win or return to help his friend. 'Right,' Jessica agreed.

He paused, one spiral up, to set the second dial and taste the situation below.

Slitherfear was trying to get at the globe, but Sickh balked him. Then, as Heem moved up the second spiral, the new Erb lunged his drill at Sickh, chipping off a scale—and Slitherfear caught one of her flailing limbs in his pincers and cut off her pincer. Even Heem was able to feel the vibration of her agony as more of her life-fluid welled out. Sickh, too, had not fully recovered from the ordeal of the tunnels, and could not defend herself adequately.

'That bastard!' Jessica exclaimed, furious. Her image was of a member of her species generated without proper cultural sanction; this seemed to be a gross insult. 'He attacked his own kind!'

"This is fair, in this competition," Heem reminded her. But he was angry too.

His worst enemy had unfairly wounded one of his friends.

Slitherfear mounted the ramp. 'We could dump him,' Jessica said. 'But we'd dump ourselves too.'

They came to the third dial. Heem set it in the direction Windflower had indicated. He knew of no significant system or stellar object in that region of space, but if the Erb did—

The upper ramp held. They had found the final key!

But Slitherfear was gaining on them. He could really move on this firm surface, pressing against the small retaining wall for additional leverage. Heem, jetting hard to roll up the steep incline, was slow.

He was tempted to wait and fight the creature here, but yielded to Jessica's imperative and rolled on up. He tasted the stranger-Erb pursuing the Squam, and Swoon was following the Erb. How he wished it could have been Sickh and Windflower on the ramp instead of these enemies! But of course it made no real difference; only the first could be the winner.

He reached the top—victory!—and halted. He had won the Ancient site for Star HydrO—and for Jessica's survival. But where was the Competition Authority representative that was supposed to be here to verify the identity of the winner? The top of the tower was a level platform surrounded by a low ridge, with a metallic dome raised above it. That was all.

Slitherfear charged up. 'Heem—with no entity here to keep score—no competition monitor—suppose the Squam doesn't stop?'

Suppose? Obviously Slitherfear would be governed by no law other than force. The Squam intended to throw Heem off the tower and claim the site for his own Star—which Heem was sure was Star Squam itself.

'Why, the utter freak!' Jessica exclaimed indignantly. 'He's going to cheat!'

"We have resources," Heem assured her. "I can hold him off with my accurate needles, and there's an Erb behind him."

'The thing to do is change the dial setting,' she said.

'Dump them all at the bottom, while we stay up here.'

"He is already beside the top dial; we cannot reach it."

Heem braced himself. Slitherfear came forging to the top, limbs folded.

Heem needled the most convenient extremity, but it was not extended and the overlapping scales protected every part of the Squam in this position. From the side Heem might have been effective, but endwise there was no purchase for a needle.

'He has to breathe, doesn't he?' Jessica asked even as Heem needled.

Good notion! Heem jetted voluminously at the creature's air intake, which was a small tube projecting from the top of the central hump. The Squam choked. He halted at the edge of the platform, unfolding all three arms.

Heem jetted him again, not with needle force, because the angle was still wrong.

But the Squam deflected the water with one pincer. 'We can't stop him on the ramp,' Jessica said. 'His armor is too strong. But if we let him up here, where we have more room to maneuver for position—'

"He's got his own problem. That Erb is on his tail." Slitherfear realized this.

He pulled in his limbs and slithered rapidly forward. Heem could do nothing to stop him. The Squam nosed into the open chamber that was the apex of the tower, under the dome.

The Erb was right behind. As it arrived at the top of the ramp, its drill formed. Now the Squam had to unfold his limbs again, lest the plant catch him and destroy him. For a moment the three of them paused, dispersed in a triangle about the enclosure.

'And it is a triangle, or a vicious circle, with each entity capable of destroying another,' Jessica said.

"I think we have an advantage," Heem sprayed. "We know how to fight the Squam."

'Still, Slitherfear is treacherous, unscrupulous, and dangerous,' she said darkly. 'And there's something funny about that Erb. Isn't his stem sort of thick?'

Heem checked. The taste of the stem was strange. "He's wearing a protective shield, so he can't be needled there!" Heem jetted. "That means he will not be easy to eliminate."

'It is not surprising that some pretty tough characters are in this competition.

I wonder how he smuggled that jacket in? Maybe tossed it over the line, then picked it up...'

"In addition to that—what use to clear off the others, if more keep coming up the ramp. We need to reverse the ramp, while we wait for the Competition Authority to arrive and verify. But now the Erb stands near the dial, blocking us off."

'I'm not sure we can reach that dial anyway, without getting on the ramp—and then we would get dumped.' Jessica raised a mental pair of hands to tug at mental hair. 'Why, oh why isn't a representative of the Competition Authority here to verify the winner? This whole thing is amazingly sloppy.'

Heem could only agree. Had the competition been properly organized, the present predicament would never have arisen.

The three creatures remained poised, no one taking the initiative. It was clear why: anyone who eliminated another would be vulnerable to the third, since the circle would then be broken. The Erb held the Squam in check; if the HydrO

needled the Erb, the Squam might then be the winner. Except for Heem's special talent: the ability to fight a Squam. And the Erb's evident protection against a HydrO. That complicated the issue.

'You're right, Heem; first we'd better secure the top of this tower against further intrusions; then we can worry about the other two up here. We don't want to weaken ourselves fighting these two, only to get wiped out by the next one up the ramp. Maybe if it remains a standoff long enough, the Competition Authority representative will get off his lunch break and report back for duty.'

Heem made an involuntary spray of mirth. What an insult she had dealt the errant representative, implying that he was a food-eater!

And—the next competitor was already coming up the ramp. Swoon of Sweetswamp, who had evidently paused along the way to note and memorize the dial settings. How would her presence further complicate this situation?

The Erb, feeling most immediately threatened despite his shield, was first to act. He lunged his drill at Swoon. The attack caught her by surprise; Erbs hardly ever initiated hostilities against HydrOs, since the result was almost certainly disastrous for the Erbs. She didn't realize that this one was no ordinary Erb. She paused at the top of the ramp.

The Erb lunged again. Swoon retreated. The globe was immediately behind her.

Suddenly Heem recognized the Erb's strategy: to force Swoon into the globe, by her contact changing the setting—and dumping her at the base of the tower. That would eliminate one competitor for a time—perhaps a long time, if she had trouble remounting because of competition below.

Heem could have warned her, but held his jet. He did not want her competition either. He wanted as few creatures up here as possible. In this he was in agreement with the Erb. With only three here, he could act against the Erb, then turn his full attention to the Squam. Swoon banged against the globe.

The bottom dropped out of the platform they stood on. HydrO, Squam and Erb were in free-fall, dropping down inside the tower.

'From above, it reverses!' Jessica exclaimed. 'Instead of down outside, down inside!' She had a mental picture of her Solarian body, blue hair floating upward with the force of the fall, legs kicking beneath the cone of material that surrounded them. Her dress, skirt, slip, clothing, apparel female Solarians wore was supposed to conceal the upper sections of her lower legs, lest observing males of her species become unduly intrigued. Alien it was, but now Heem found the image peculiarly attractive. She was probably a creature of considerable physical appeal to her own kind.

'I would be, if I ever had a chance to be myself, instead of a fake man. But I guess it was out of the frying pan and into the fire.' Now her image was of the falling Solarian female descending from a large rimmed disk into the leaping flames of some nether conflagration. 'From male apparel to a male host.'

The flames were consuming her dress, exposing more of her upper legs. Heem found those legs quite interesting. Now the upper section of her garment was also disintegrating, exposing—

"Heem!" she cried, and he broke off his mental gaze. "Heem—we're still falling!"

So they were. But they were falling slowly. "This is not free-fall—it's counter-gravity!" Heem sprayed.

'There is no such thing as anti-gravity!' But her protest lacked force, as they floated down. Ancient science seemed to mock the limitations of the moderns.

They came to rest in a cylindrical chamber beneath the base of the tower. Its walls were of a material similar to that of the dial-globes outside: they were clearly perceptible to all senses. Five passages led out from the central plaza.

There was no dust, and the air was pleasant.

Here it was—an entire, functional Ancient complex to be explored. A treasure of a magnitude found only once in a millennium in any given galaxy. But they could not explore it; they had to settle which Star had the right to exploit this site. For that Star would shortly be the dominant one of this Segment. The vicious triangle remained.

Not quite. There was another creature present. Its torso was vaguely like a stem, but thicker; at the base were several little feet, not roots; at the center were several manipulative appendages, not Squam-limbs; and the apex terminated in a complex spiral wire.

"An Ancient?" Heem sprayed, startled.

¿Hardly!¿ the creature jetted back at him. ¿I am the Competition Authority Representative, a native of Segment Fa¿, selected as an objective arbiter for your Segment's activity. I was examining a decorative globe near the access ramp, when I was precipitated here, and was unable to return.¿

Heem relaxed. 'So that's what happened to the Representative!' Jessica exclaimed. 'He must have been brought by floatercraft, and not realized the significance of the dials.'

The creature carried a translator, from which emerged the jets and other modes of communication. It was evident that the Squam and Erb understood him also.

¿Which of you was first to achieve the apex of the tower¿

"I was," Slitherfear answered immediately.

"You falsify!" the Erb flashed indignantly. "I was first."

The representative oriented on Heem. ¿You make a similar claim?¿

'Brother!' Jessica exclaimed. Heem only sprayed agreement.

¿We shall then await arrival of the Competition Authority Vehicle, and convey the three of you to an interrogation station, where the truth shall be ascertained. Analysis of your aural printouts will immediately—¿

The communication was cut off by Slitherfear's action. The Squam lunged into the Fa¿, knocking him down. One limb reached for the apex-spiral, and the pincer clamped on it and wrenched it out of the body.

Both Heem and the Erb moved forward, but Slitherfear was already slithering away. One pincer grasped the translator. "There will be no aural printouts," the Squam said. "I have nullified the Fa¿."

"You have not nullified us!" Heem jetted, his shock at this horrendous deed converting to cold anger. "We know the truth, not the Fa¿."

The Squam's body heaved. His stomach extruded— and it was no living membrane, but a fiber sac. That meant that Heem's action, there in the valley of Morning-mist, had been effective; the Squam had had to have his stomach amputated. He probably lived on artificial infusions of chemicals.

From the sac tumbled a cylindrical object. The fiber stomach was then sucked back in, and Slitherfear picked up the object. It fitted neatly in one set of pincers the three surfaces holding it without slippage. "So nice of you to allow me leisure to extract my tool. You, HydrO, will murder the Fa¿ by needling him through the torso; he is only comatose while his spiral perceptor is disconnected. I will then have to kill you and the Erb in defense of self."

'This is so dastardly it's crazy!' Jessica exclaimed. 'Heem, you're not about to murder the Competition Authority Representative!'

"I believe you are overly optimistic," the Erb flashed at the Squam. "I was not first to the apex of the tower, but if you kill the HydrO, he will be eliminated by death and you by disqualification, and I will become the legitimate winner.

My aural printout will show the validity of my claim. I believe you have already disqualified yourself by your attack on the Fa¿."

Slitherfear aimed his cylinder at the prone creature. A needle of water shot out, piercing the Fa¿. The torso humped in agony, the limbs thrashing; then it subsided. The taste of mortality suffused the air. "As you can perceive the Representative has been needled to death," Slitherfear said. He put a second pincer to his weapon, clamping on it and breaking it apart. He threw it to the floor.

Abruptly the weapon burst into flame. The heat was fierce but brief; then nothing remained but the dissipating taste of combustion. It had been a self-destruct item.

"This remains unclear to me," the Erb flashed. "You may frame the HydrO and kill him—but you cannot also kill me. And if you could, you would still be subject to the aural printout yourself."

"This is part of my expertise for this mission," Slitherfear said. "I am the Star Squam representative; I have no transferee. Instead I have an aural scrambler. No clear printout is possible. The truth can not be had from me."

"An aural scrambler!" Heem jetted. "This would affect the scruples, even the sanity of any entity who employed it for any prolonged period."

'Like a pact with the devil,' Jessica agreed. 'The devil takes your soul in return for material gain.'

The implication had not been lost on the Erb. He flashed at the translator, but his message was for Heem. "HydrO, we compete with a mad creature. I think you and I had better form a—"

The translator crashed to the floor. Its message ceased. The Squam had destroyed it, too, before Erb and HydrO could come to an agreement.

The Erb formed his drill and moved purposefully toward the Squam. Slitherfear retreated quickly into the passage behind him. His sanity was evidently not so far eroded as to make him that foolish. He had to kill the Erb, but could hardly do so in a direct, fair encounter. He would avoid contact until he could obtain some illicit advantage. Perhaps he had another weapon hidden in his pseudostomach.

'Do you think we can trust the Erb?' Jessica asked worriedly. 'He can only win by seeing us both killed.'

"True. He did try to falsify his order of arrival to the Competition Authority Representative. He may balk at murder, but we can not safely assume so. He may even be a decent sort, like Windflower, but he's not here to be decent. We had best stay clear of him. We don't need to attack him, even assuming we can penetrate his protective shield. All we need do now is survive until Competition Authority reinforcements come; then we shall be adjudged the victors."

'Maybe it would be smartest simply to retreat for the time being,' she said.

'Let the other two fight it out, while we wait for the Authority. You don't have to kill Slitherfear directly, even if the Erb doesn't catch him; just by surviving, you will finish him, because he is guilty of murdering a neutral sapient entity. You can be sure he won't get off this rap; it would make an inter-Segment incident. His scrambler will do him no good, if you are present to testify.'

"True." Was he being sensible, or merely yielding to his fear of the Squam?

'You're not afraid, Heem! You never were a coward, and now with your needles sharp you're as formidable as any HydrO can be. There's just no profit in charging blindly into battle. Besides, we'll have a better chance if we familiarize ourselves with the locale. We might even set an ambush for the Squam, since he has to come to us if he wants to win.'

Good tactics! Slitherfear would indeed come for them, for to fail to do so would be to lose. They could prepare a fitting reception.

Heem rolled down the passage most nearly opposite the one the Squam had used. It opened shortly on another chamber, also with five branching exits, including the passage they had come on. 'Uh, you know we could get lost in here, if the rooms are all the same,' Jessica said nervously.

"If we are lost, the Squam cannot locate us," he reminded her. "But we shall not be lost; I will know the taste of my own trail when I cross it, and can follow it back."

'Nothing here,' she said, reassured, forming the image of the bare chamber. 'The Ancients really cleaned it out when they left. But if they knew they were leaving, why didn't they turn off the tower mechanism?'

"It is hard to fathom the rationale of the Ancients! Perhaps they expected to return—and were caught unawares by their abrupt demise."

'But this is so clean! It's not just mothballed for later use, it's empty. The way you leave a house when you're moving for good.'

"A what?"

'Oh, never mind! Just keep rolling along.'

Heem rolled along, down the opposite passage. They came to another chamber, and another. 'It's a labyrinth!' Jessica exclaimed. 'But what's its purpose? It just doesn't seem to make much sense.'

"If we were able to make sense of the Ancients, we might achieve their level."

'I don't know that there's much here to exploit. The mechanisms of the tower, that's all. Some sites have had important transfer technology, but if this was just a survey marker station...' She let her thought fade into tasteless-ness.

Then, abruptly, a passage opened into a much larger chamber. All about the perimeter were point flavors, in the same multi-sense technique as the tower globes. 'The stars!' Jessica said. 'This is a planetarium! An astrotarium! The Ancients liked the stars; they had representations—' Her image replaced the taste-pattern, as it had when they threaded the needle between Star and Hole.

The stars became bright constellations, scintillating on a black background.

They rolled to the center of the chamber, and it was as if the galaxy spread out about them. The stars were not mere dabs of taste or light, but tangibilities in full dimension. Depth, intensity, color—all were present, wonderfully.

'Why are some stars keyed wrong?'

Heem realized she was correct. He had considerable mental awareness of the configuration of local space. This multi-dimensional map was far more detailed than what his mind could hold, and highly accurate. It was, of course, Ancient-old; but most stars did not change very much in such a period. There was a wrongness about their representation that the passage of time could not account for.

'Heem—you're familiar with this galactic locale. Is there—are the stars all there, in the picture?'

"There are more stars than any mind can track," he jetted. "But all the habitable systems are keyed in, in a shade of color-taste, and all—" He paused, as the significance of the elementary keying opened to him. "All inhabited systems are keyed in. Star HydrO, Star Erb, Star Squam, the other Stars of this Segment—all my mind can verify are present. But not Holestar."

'Of course not. This is System Holestar, and it had no sapient life-forms three million years ago. Except for the visiting Ancients, of course, and the barracks-builders, who were probably also of non-System origin. The only native life would have been plants and maybe low-grade animals. Even the rats of the tunnels are probably imports, vermin who sneaked in on spaceships and took over after the premises were vacated. They could not have evolved on Eccentric, since there were no non-lava passages before the sapients colonized it.'

"A variant keying indicates other inhabited systems, as many as the ones we know, but this is wrong. I recognize a number of these. System Extirpate, where a nova seems to have wiped clear all life—"

'Seems to have?'

"HydrO technicians explored it long ago. There were a few artifacts suggestive of technological sapience on the two planets there, but both planets had been so badly burned by an ancient nova—"

Three million years ancient?' she asked, catching on.

"Yes. Only Star Extirpate is not a nova star, so could not have been the source of obliteration. It does not seem likely that another star could have been near enough to do this, and then vanish entirely. It is one of the mysteries of space. And other lifeless systems—"

'Are listed on this Ancient map as supporting potentially sapient life?'

"Unless I misinterpret the key."

'Heem, this is horrible! Could there have been twice as many life-forms three million years ago as now, and half of them were obliterated?'

"This is my understanding. This must have been a survey station too, accurately mapping all sapience in this sector of our Galaxy. The other markers we conjectured may have mapped other sectors."

'And then half of that sapience was brutally destroyed. Could it have been war—war on a galactic scale? And the present-day life-forms are the survivors?'

"But we lacked technology then! We HydrOs were pre-sapients, not yet evolved to our full powers, lacking all knowledge of the extra-planetary universe. The same was true of our neighbors in Thousandstar—and I believe it was true also of the rest of this galaxy generally. None of the contemporary life-forms had entered space then. We could not have defended ourselves from technological species such as the Ancients."

'Nor could we Solarians,' she agreed. 'We were barbarians, hardly mastering the use of fire, then. Some among our kind might conjecture that we rose to heights long ago, then reverted to barbarism after some colossal catastrophe, but archaeology does not support this. We were primitives. Yet we survived, and you HydrOs survived, and all the others, while the civilized Ancients perished.'

"And this station knew precisely which survived and which perished—for the keying differs, and not coincidentally."

'But this station is part of the culture that perished! It could not have recorded its own demise so neatly!'

"Only if it saw it coming. The Ancients might have vacated, leaving only the tower and planetarium operative, still surveying data for those who might follow."

'And no one followed, for all civilization in the galaxy had collapsed, leaving only vermin-species like ourselves.'

They contemplated the grim galactic map, mystified and appalled. The mystery of the Ancients became greater with each discovery relating to it!

There was a vibration, followed by the spreading taste of metal. "Something is happening!" Heem sprayed, alarmed. "Perhaps the Competition Authority has arrived!"

'Must be! The Fa¿ should have signaled them before he died, though why he didn't have them come to get him out of the depths—let's get over there to stake our claim before Slitherfear does something worse yet!'

Heem rolled rapidly toward the source of the commotion. He could guess why the Fa¿ hadn't summoned help; he would have thus exposed his own incompetence. It was also possible that the Ancient site shielded transmissions, making external communication impossible.

They passed through several of the pentagonal chambers and came at last into another larger one. The Erb entered from another passage ahead of him, and a third presence manifested: a HydrO. Swoon of Sweetswamp had managed to follow them down into this complex.

Slitherfear was in the center of the room, his pincers gripping some kind of machine mounted there. It was from this device the vibration and taste emanated.

It seemed to be an Ancient artifact, operative but somewhat irregular after its long hiatus. The Ancients had been the Cluster's finest builders, but the inordinate period since their passing had made even their machines unreliable.

The Erb charged at the Squam, his drill formed and turning. Slitherfear rotated the machine until a lens pointed at the Erb, and struck a globe-control with one pincer.

The taste of alien power jetted out from the machine. The Erb collapsed.

'It's a death-ray generator!' Jessica exclaimed. 'An Ancient weapon! Must have been too awkward to move, so they had to leave it."

"And Slitherfear found it, discovered its operation, and made a commotion to lure the rest of us here to be killed! We should have stayed hidden, instead of succumbing to his trap!"

Heem rolled at the Squam from the side. Slitherfear, aware of him, swung the machine about on its mounting, but Heem had the advantage of velocity, thanks to the time it had taken to kill the Erb, and crashed into the Squam before the machine could orient. Slitherfear was shoved away, half rolling on the floor. He was up immediately, pincers extended—but now Swoon of Sweetswamp was there, almost colliding with him herself. She needled him, rolling back.

'His tough luck that we all arrived at once,' Jessica remarked without sympathy.

'Had we been spaced out more, he would have finished us all, just as he planned.'

Slitherfear, enraged, slithered after Swoon. 'Heem, he'll kill her!' Jessica cried.

"He can't catch her," Heem jetted. He also remembered the way Swoon had needled Windflower. That had pretty much abated any sympathy he might have felt for the HydrO. "We must inspect this machine he found, because it represents the greatest immediate threat to us."

'You're right,' she said reluctantly. 'At least let's check the Erb. Maybe he's not actually dead. Stunned—'

Her and her concern for living creatures! They checked the Erb, while the Squam chased the HydrO into another passage. The Erb was not dead, but he was not living either. "His aura," Heem sprayed, dismayed. "I believe his aura is gone."

'Aura! Of course! The Ancients were the consummate experts in aura! This must be a transfer device, moving his aura to some other host, perhaps across the Galaxy!'

Heem rolled back to the machine. Its control-globe had the balled-line inside, similar to the globes outside, but in addition there were three symbols on the ball's surface. Jessica pieced them out, translating Heem's taste into vivid pictures. One was an empty circle, Ο; another was a two-knobbed line, •—•; and the third was a circle with a dot inside, Θ. That was all.

The only other controls seemed to be the activator-globes: one opaque, which the Squam must have used to turn the machine on, the other empty, but apparently trigger for the transfer, since it was the one Slitherfear had banged to destroy the Erb. 'We'd better not fool with either of these,' Jessica said nervously.

'We know so little about this thing, and it seems just about ready to blow itself apart. We don't even dare try to turn it off, because we can't be sure how the off switch works.'

"But so long as it remains functional, we are threatened by it," Heem pointed out. "If we leave it unattended, and Slitherfear returns—" He focused his taste on the fallen Erb, meaningfully.

'Um, you're right again, Heem.' They studied the marked globe again. 'Maybe if we changed the setting— what do you think these symbols mean?'

"It is set now on Ο," Heem sprayed. "That could mean vacancy of host. A body without an aura. Like the Erb."

'Horrible—and probably correct. An aura-destruction setting. I don't think contemporary science has anything like that, and I'm not sure it should. What does that make the Θ symbol?'

"An aura-creating setting? No, even the Ancients could not have created an aura from nothing! But if they had an aura available—"

'I think I've got it, Heem! This is no weapon—it's a research tool! This was a laboratory attached to the observatory or the beacon or whatever, with many cubicles for researchers to occupy, like a big office building. They were analyzing auras, classifying them, separating the sheep from the goats—'

"The—?"

'Never mind! And the sheep they keyed in one fashion, and the goats in another, for their big map of the Milky Way, or at least this segment of it. Now maybe it was a very subtle thing they were studying, so they had to transfer a given subject aura into a blank host, to maintain it while studying it in a controlled environment. And sometimes they had to superimpose it on an occupied host, as my aura is superimposed on yours. So they would have needed some blank hosts, and some occupied ones. So they used this machine to blank a given host, and the Ο is the setting for that. And—'

"This is awful!" Heem protested. "To blank creatures, probably sapients—"

'No worse than vivisection! If you want to know about something, you have to work with it, take it apart, analyze it. The Ancients did not advance their science of auras to the pinnacle they did without doing a hell of a lot of lab work, believe me! So the Θ setting must be to superimpose an aura on a given host, maybe one that's already occupied, maybe not. The same thing we do today, for travel and inter-Sphere communication. And the •—• setting—'

"That might be neutral. Just an aural scan, no transfer, necessary to verify the situation before acting."

'Maybe,' she agreed dubiously.

They had no more time to consider. Swoon was rolling back, still pursued by Slitherfear. She was leaking water from a wound; he had evidently caught her and gouged out a small chunk of flesh with one pincer. "Help me, Heem!" she sprayed.

"He will kill me, then you, unless we fight him together. I can not roll much more."

'Help her,' Jessica decided. 'She is no threat to us! He is!'

"First this, just in case," Heem sprayed. He touched the machine's control-globe, moving the indicator to the neutral double-knob-line position.

Then he rolled out to intercept the Squam.

Slitherfear immediately turned his attention to Heem. He knew where his most formidable opposition rolled. Swoon rolled around behind the machine and settled, trying to stop her leakage of fluid and recover strength. "Be alert for him, Heem!" she jetted. "He caught me by moving slow, then leaping suddenly forward. He's invulnerable! I tried to lead him over the edge of a drop I found, but he was too cunning."

'I thought we were going to fight the Squam together,' Jessica grumped. 'She's turning the whole job over to us.'

"Will the machine abolish him?" Swoon sprayed, nudging up to it. Her wound seemed to be closing nicely.

"That machine is too dangerous to use!" Heem sprayed, alarmed. "It may react against the operator." But his keenest worry was that she would try to use it against the Squam—and catch the HydrO instead. Because he and the Squam would be moving quite rapidly and erratically. Her "help" could be disastrous!

'Especially since we aren't sure about that setting we put it on,' Jessica agreed. 'It may be neutral—but it could be something else. Like self-destruct.'

Slitherfear leaped, his whole body flexing, propelling himself from the floor.

All three appendages extended forward, pincers closing.

Heem rolled adeptly to one side and fired his sharpest, hottest jet at the most accessible juncture: the emergence of limb from torso.

He scored. The effect on the overconfident Squam was devastating. That limb went lax, not even able to fold properly into its slot. "You thought you had an easy mark, did you." Heem sprayed, not caring that the creature could not understand him without the translator. "Now we settle it, killer of juveniles!"

Slitherfear was wounded, but not stupid. He oriented on Heem more carefully now, keeping his two remaining pincers close to his body, allowing Heem a fair shot only at the useless limb. Naturally Heem did not waste his effort on that. He rolled around, but the Squam turned with him, on guard. It was necessary to get close, to score a crippling shot—but then he would be within range of the pincers.

Slitherfear lunged at him. Heem rolled back, this time finding no opening. He had beaten the other Squam, so long ago in the arena, by forcing him to close up completely, so that he could not fight, then nudging him into deep water, Slitherfear refused to be cowed, and in any event, there was no water here. The monster lunged again, cautiously, and Heem retreated again, seeking an opening that did not materialize. This was no easy contest!

'The only easy contests are those in which Erb tears up Squam, or Squam tears up HydrO, or HydrO needles Erb,' Jessica said. 'By developing your finesse with needles you have merely achieved parity. You still must find a way to defeat an equivalent adversary.'

Some encouragement! Again the Squam lunged, and again Heem dodged. 'Look out!'

Jessica cried, as Heem banged into the base of the Ancient machine. He had been paying attention only to the Squam, neglecting his environment. He rebounded from the metal—and Slitherfear leaped twice as fast and far as before and caught him with one pincer-set.

"That's what he did to me!" Swoon sprayed, rolling back. She was not much help either.

The pain was terrible, but Heem focused on the necessary. Because the pincers were anchored in his flesh, they could not be retracted or moved quickly. He aimed carefully and slanted a single hard needle into the vulnerable juncture.

Again, the effect was gratifyingly immediate. The pincers went slack. The Squam had lost another extremity! One more and he would be helpless, and Heem would be able to orient his needles at leisure, drilling in between the scales until he punctured the vulnerable interior. He was not merely a match for this monster, after all; he had an easy victory! His visual accuracy and coordination were devastatingly effective.

The Squam lunged—for the Ancient machine. That had been Slitherfear's objective!

He had been maneuvering for this approach, not really trying for Heem—and now all three limbs were back in action. 'Heem, we've been suckered!' Jessica cried with dismay.

Heem was completely unrolled. All his practice, for nothing! All his confidence, false! The Squam had known what Heem would try, and pretended it was working.

Heem had deceived himself, thinking he could—

'Heem, we haven't lost!' Jessica screamed. 'We've just taken a small tactical setback. He expects you to give up now, but you won't. Get back in there and fight!' And she drove him forward with the image of a booted Solarian foot, swinging at him.

Heem jetted so violently he virtually hurtled across the chamber. He smashed into the Squam—but this time Slitherfear held firm, braced for the impact, trying to maintain possession of the machine. Heem needled at all three extremities simultaneously, utilizing the salvo accuracy he had practiced against the rats.

And for once the Squam really had underestimated him. Slitherfear fell back in pain. His limbs had not been nullified, but the needles had obviously hurt. Heem rolled after him, needling again in the same places, deepening the hurts. He also shot a jet at the air-intake hole. The Squam choked again, but fastened one set of pincers firmly on Heem's flesh, near enough to the spot just injured to prevent Heem from needling effectively. Heem tried to pull away, but could not without leaving his flesh behind. This time he was really caught.

He felt something awful. Not just the fact of his predicament, but a kind of sickness suffusing him, fuzzing his awareness, causing him to hate his very existence. All his civilized values seemed meaningless; it was better to deal on a purely selfish basis, to destroy all opposition ruthlessly, to—

'Heem, it's the scrambler! It's scrambling your aura too, and mine, where they overlap his. It's driving us both crazy! We've got to get away!' But he couldn't get away. The pincers were inexorable. They held too big a section of his flesh.

If he ripped free, he would die. Yet if he did not—

'Remember Sickh!' Jessica cried. 'How you moved her out of the water!'

What did Sickh have to do with this? Oh. Heem thought it impossible, but he tried. He jetted himself into a violent roll, drawing the Squam along after him, and the creature's body fell over his own and crashed to the floor beyond. It was after all possible! But the triple claw retained its cruel grip.

Heem rolled on, over Slitherfear, needling him in passing, keeping him distracted while velocity built up. He rolled beyond, drew the Squam up again, and slammed him over again, and needled him again. Slitherfear might have been able to stop it by shifting his weight at the appropriate moment to counter Heem's effort, but did not understand what was happening. HydrOs always tried to pull away from Squams, not to roll over and under them!

Heem found a looseness developing between scales, where the Squam's body was being wrenched about, and needled there repeatedly. A third time he hauled the Squam up, this time slamming him into a wall. He needled the gap between scales again, using his hottest water.

'Heem—' Jessica cried.

He heaved Slitherfear up yet again, to slam him again.

'Heem, I think you can stop. I think he's dead.'

He paused. He no longer felt the sickness of the scrambler; his mind was clearing. The claw still gripped, but it was a death grip; the animation was fading from the body of the Squam. The creature could only take a certain amount of shock, when its whole body was involved; its armor became a liability. Heem had killed his enemy by beating him to death.

Heem shifted his body cautiously. Now he was able to draw himself free. 'I think he was weak, too,' Jessica said. 'From the rigors of the race, and his unnatural stomach, and that awful scrambler. He thought he could win by treachery and brutality. When you showed that you really could fight him—'

"You showed him," Heem sprayed. "You drove me, you guided me when I was defeated. You saw clearly the paths I could not find, that made victory possible. Without you—"

'I had faith in you,' she said. 'Because with all your alien foibles, such as lack of limbs and sight, you're still a better man than any I know at home. I—'

"No, my turn! I love you, alien female! Without you I could not have won.

Without you I could not endure."

"Heem of Highfalls!" It was Swoon of Sweetswamp, near the Ancient machine, recovered enough to hail him with a jet. She was of course unconscious of his internal dialogue. "Do you survive?"

"I survive," he sprayed. "The Squam is dead."

"Then you are the winner of the Competition. Yet if I had not distracted the Squam, weakening him by the chase—"

"True," Heem agreed, feeling generous. "Your presence helped. It got him away from the machine, gave me time to study it."

"So you understand the operation of the Ancient device?"

"Somewhat, perhaps, thanks to your—"

"Then would it not be fair to share the victory with me? The honor to Star HydrO

would be unabated, and there is enough in this complex for more than a single Star to exploit. The mechanisms of the tower, the machine—there must be other things too, of similar value."

"There are other treasures," Heem agreed, thinking of the planetarium. "Yet the rules of the Competition specify—"

"The rules specify that the winner takes the site," she sprayed. "But who is the winner when it has taken more than a single entity to achieve it? This becomes in effect a relay race, and all who participated in the winning effort should share in the profits of that victory."

'She does have a point,' Jessica agreed internally. 'I think you could afford to agree. The agreement might not have force with the Competition Authority, but that would not be your fault. Offer her a quarter share of the proceeds of the site.'

"Would you consider a quarter share for your Star?" Heem asked Swoon.

"I would prefer a half share," Swoon sprayed. "I could be most appreciative, Heem, in the name of the Star I represent. My transferee can promise you rather substantial long-term personal recompense—"

'She's trying to bribe you, Heem!' Jessica exclaimed indignantly.

"And I myself can offer you quite immediate short-term pleasure," Swoon concluded. She jetted a supremely evocative erotic flavor at him.

'And now she's trying to seduce you again!'

"It is an attractive enough offer," he sprayed to her internally. "There is no finer pleasure than—"

'Damn it, don't tell me about that!' she cried angrily. 'I can't—oh, hell, I'm just being a jealous female! I get so tired of participating in these things in the male costume instead of the female.'

"Yes, of course," Heem sprayed, chastened. "I will decline her offer."

'No, don't do that. I have no right to—' She couldn't finish the thought. 'I'll be leaving you soon anyway. I love you, Heem, whatever happens. I would not deny you your pleasures. I would not be the dog in the manger.'

"The what? Where?"

She flashed him a picture of a four-legged, tooth-faced creature standing in dehydrated vegetation, threatening another creature who evidently desired the vegetation. Heem could make little sense of it.

'What it means is that I can't be the kind of female you need, but I don't want to be a female canine either. There is a special word for that.'

But Swoon was spraying again. "Perhaps your offer is sufficient, Heem. My Star might be satisfied with no more than this machine. Do you know what it is, how it operates?"

"I believe it is a research tool set to banish auras from given hosts, or to superimpose auras on occupied hosts. Be careful not to jog the activator-globe."

"Which globe is that?" she jetted, alarmed.

"The clear, empty one, I believe. That is the one the Squam touched, to banish the Erb." He rolled closer. "Now if you'd like to celebrate our agreement in the HydrO fashion—" It was not serious, in that he had no intent to reproduce—no, never that!—yet he wished it could have been Jessica. It was the alien female he was holding in his mind and longing for, as he sprayed romance at Swoon.

But this time Swoon did not return that kind of spray. She was now behind the Ancient machine, orienting it on him. "I believe we can dispense with that, Heem. I have what I need."

Alarm shocked through Jessica. 'Heem, look out!'

Heem froze, horrified. "What are you doing, Swoon?" But he already had a notion.

Betrayal.

"I am taking the entire site, Heem, since you were foolish enough to yield to me the key to victory."

"But I thought you wanted to share, to indulge in—"

'Ha!' Jessica exclaimed bitterly. 'She only used her sex appeal to get what she wanted from you: information about the operation of the machine, so she could use it without killing herself. She's a conniving bitch—and I fell for it too, because I wanted you to be happy. Men often make concessions for sex alone; women seldom do. I only regret I allowed my own concern to interfere with my logic. I failed you, Heem—in the one thing I was really equipped to help you in.

Protection against deceitful, cynical, excellent-tasting females.'

"I'm sorry about this, Heem, I really am," Swoon sprayed. "You're a tough, apt HydrO who did help me get my ship, and I'd love to copulate with you. But I have so much more to gain by winning the Ancient site for my transferee's Star."

"But you can't win!" he jetted at her. "The aural printout will show you were not the first."

"I'll take that chance. You were the first—but you killed another competitor, the Squam. That makes your victory suspect. We none of us are clean, Heem, but the Competition Authority will not be eager to roll to the enormous trouble and energy to run this competition again. In the end, the race goes to the fittest, and the fittest is the survivor—and I am that survivor. It's certainly a better chance than what I'd have if you live. The Competition Authority would not have honored our deal."

"I think they would!" Heem sprayed. "The rationale of the relay race, of more than one contributor to the victory—I believe such a compromise is better than the alternative of condoning murder! I accepted your rationale—why can't you?"

"You are charming, Heem, in your naivete." She extended a section of herself toward the machine's globe.

Heem rolled for her, but she was too fast. She banged the activator-globe. Power lurched out from the lens, bathing him, but a flashback also bathed Swoon. There was a terrible wrenching.

In a moment—perhaps more than that, for Heem could not judge how long he had been unconscious, if indeed at all—he recovered his orientation. He remained on the floor, and Swoon remained at the machine. His aura had not been abolished!

The neutral setting—

Then he became aware of something else. He was whole, yet there was an absence, a loss—

"Jessica!" he sprayed desperately.

There was no answer. He felt for her presence in his being, and found nothing.

He was alone.

"Oh, alien female!" he sprayed. "That Ancient machine did function—weakly! It did not abolish me, it abolished the less-entrenched aura. It wiped you out!"

Yet self-preservation still motivated him. No, not that; rather it was the need for vengeance. Swoon had murdered Jessica; Swoon must pay the penalty, Heem surveyed the physical situation. Swoon still hunched by the machine. A backlash of power had encompassed her; she had evidently been stunned. He could kill her now. He did not care about his own ultimate fate. He intended to punish Jessica's murderer. He would needle her at close range, without mercy.

He rolled in close. Swoon stirred. He readied his needles—but had to orient carefully, because now he lacked the visual coordination he had come to depend on. He was blind. His needles would not have their former accuracy and timing.

He must do this with extreme concentration—

"Heem," she sprayed weakly.

"Do not plead for mercy," he sprayed savagely. He knew he should simply needle her, but was compelled by his nature to communicate, to justify himself, even to his enemy. "You killed my love; I shall kill you. You took the light from my perception; I shall destroy your perception. You betrayed—"

"Heem—wait. I am Jessica."

"Do not seek to deceive me again!" he raged, his spray so hot it vaporized close to his body. "I believed you once. I am not twice a fool!" Then he froze. How had she known of Jessica?

"Heem—I was retransferred," she sprayed. "The machine setting—the two-balled line—it must have meant not neutral, but exchange."

He hardly dared believe, yet he so much wanted to. "Prove this to me."

"Your nightmare of the Squam—your illegal memories—"

"You could have guessed of those! You may have suffered another incomplete metamorphosis!"

"Then my nightmare, as a Solarian—clone masquerading as a male—a strange man tearing off my garb, betraying my secret in public—"

Heem's doubt collapsed. "No one else could know of that! Yet how could you have been exchanged, and not me. And not the two female auras of Swoon's host? They are not with me."

"Because we are all females, Heem, and you are male. The two other auras bounced; they remain here in this host, stunned by my forced arrival. You also bounced, having no male host available within the focus of the machine. Only I was female, with a female host to transfer to. Only I was able to move when compelled. You and I have been through something like this before; we recovered from the shock more quickly. I have assumed control of this body."

A tremendous relief washed through him. Jessica had survived! He had revenge on Slitherfear. He had won the competition, and would be restored to favor among his kind. All his frustrations had abruptly been abated. Never had he felt so good!

"Oh, Heem!" Jessica continued. "Now at last I can spray love with you! Quickly, before the Competition Authority arrives and transfers me back to Capella. Come, my love—"

But Heem's awareness was fuzzing, the tastes overlapping each other. The Ancient complex seemed to be rotating around him, expanding and contracting, its strange half-flavors confusing him.

"Heem—what's the matter?" Jessica sprayed, alarmed. "Are you badly injured? Oh, Heem, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to tax your energies beyond—"

He marshaled himself with a desperate effort. "It is the metamorphosis," he sprayed. "It was incomplete before, because I had unresolved compulsions.

Slitherfear—" He found himself sagging into incomprehensibility, and tried again. "Murders not avenged, would not let go, undermined the memory-blank of maturity. Vengeance is immature, yet there is justice. I became a juvenile masquerading as adult, much as you masqueraded as male. Now all is resolved, and I am whole, and my metamorphosis is becoming complete—"

"But then you will forget all that has happened here!" she protested.

A third, fading effort. "I—will forget. The rigors and complexes of the juvenile state are too strong to permit maturity, must be cast aside. But you must inform them—"

"Oh, Heem, I will, I will! I'll tell them how you won, for Star HydrO. Swoon's Star gets no share; she betrayed you, she forfeits. But Sickh and Windflower were true—the relay race hypothesis is valid, Heem, I'm sure of it. Do you mind if I include them for shares? Heem, can you hear me. I mean, can you taste me?"

Heem tasted her, and sweet she was indeed, but no longer could he answer.

Consciousness was departing, and with it his entire immature existence. He was about to be adult.

"Oh, Heem, I'll never see you again! Not as I have known you! You won't even remember me, and I can't remind you because that might undo your maturity." She paused, in the far and fading distance. "Yet maybe that is best. Our love was hopeless from the beginning. We should never have allowed it to happen. This way you, at least, will not suffer, and I'm glad for that."

Then she was gone from his awareness, except for one especially strong concluding needle of flavor that momentarily banished his opacity: "I love you, Heem of Highfalls. Farewell!"

Epilogue

Jessica, in male guise, greeted each clone-pair arrival at the entrance to the main ballroom. The motif was HydrO-clone, but as co-hosts the Jesses remained human. This ball was in nominal celebration of Jesse's successful mission to Thousandstar; no Capella-clone had ever before made such a coup. The financial aspect was theoretically unimportant; it was the notoriety that counted. (Yet the completion payment had been welcome, buttressed as it was by appreciation bonuses from Stars Salivar and Ffrob, who had been granted partial shares in the enterprise. )

A pair of mock-HydrOs arrived in bulky costume that almost concealed the extremities. A concealed bulb squirted Jessica in the face. "HydrO you do!" a clone exclaimed genially.

Jessica made an insignificant gesture with her little finger. A torrent of warm water shot out of a supposedly decorative nozzle set in the wall, thoroughly dousing both jokers. "The warmest, wettest welcome to you, HydrOs!" she said calmly.

"To be sure." But their enthusiasm for the humor seemed somewhat dampened.

A pair of Squams arrived next, their tails carried over their third arms. They had noted the foregoing exchange of pleasantries. They glanced with concealed non-Squam eyes at the enormous decorative pincers also set in the wall, and elected not to attempt a practical joke. Jessica smiled somewhat grimly as they proceeded directly toward the mock-up of an Ancient site in the center, where the refreshments were being served. The old retainer, Flowers, was in charge there, keeping a benign but discreet eye on the proceedings. He was garbed as a dominant sapient of Segment Fa¿, with many little hands and feet, and a spiral wire rising from his head. He was, of course, the Competition Authority Representative; who else would be in charge of an Ancient site?

"Squams do like to eat, you know," the Squam-clones explained as they moved on.

"Disgusting," Jessica agreed, smiling. Yet there was a masked sadness. She did not find quite the pleasure in food she once had.

Jessica turned her attention to the next arrivals, a set of pseudo-Erbs, waving great leaf-petals that could hardly be formed into an effective drill. She thought of Windflower, and Sickh, of her pleasant girl-talk session with them in the flooded conduit. How much more meaningful that had seemed than this empty clonish banter! Sickh had had a family, back on Planet Impasse, with two active young Squams; she had undertaken this mission because her mate was ill and in need of expensive treatment, and this had been the only way to afford it.

Windflower had been compelled by the challenge—but it had turned out to be more challenge than she had anticipated. Jessica had shared both motives, and envied Sickh her family in courteous fashion, and the three had agreed that the universe was, after all, growing smaller. She had had, however briefly, a friendship she valued—a friendship that transcended the barrier of species. What she had here in Cloneville was comparatively sterile.

Oh, Heem! she thought, inevitably orienting on her keenest loss. You have forgotten me, and I'm glad of that, have to be glad of that, but I love you yet—and am glad of that too. Even though it reopened the wound of her grief. Was it really better to have loved and lost?

In due course the ballroom was filled with the celebrating clones. Couples were wandering to the adjacent rooms in normal fashion, trying out new partners. The Bessies had latched on to a new set of males, and were pumping up their bosoms to the bursting point. Jessica was as disgusted as ever, but had to maintain the front. She was Jesse, tonight; he had not yet recovered from his accident with the laser saw, and was confined to a floating support: a flatfloater, of course.

This made an obvious difference between them, so they could not substitute for each other at key moments. Fortunately, as host, Jess was not required to mix in the side rooms. Clothes made the man, and the clothes were not coming off. She was safe.

Safe—for what? The sex-ratio had not balanced as the clones paired off in marriages. Two more unions had been announced in the past week, and one female estate-holder had declared against clone-marriage, forfeiting her estate. Three younger clones had matured enough to enter the sexual lists—but two of those sets were males. The constriction was tightening; it would be a decade before the ratio shifted back. Too many of the senior clones had opted for male offspring, and their children were paying the price.

Jesse, neither a hulking brute to attract the scant-witted females, nor the possessor of a rich estate, was faced with the likely choice of marrying a cow like Bessy, or waiting the better part of that decade for a younger clone. Even then, there would be competition, for a number of the mature clones preferred juvenile females, and there was a rough hierarchy of seniority, and some of the youngsters were very pretty children. The best of the nymphs would be taken before they became available to Jesse.

All of which meant, in this decadent situation, that Jessica would probably have to carry the burden. She would have to expose her nature and suffer herself to be chosen by an eligible male and make the best marriage she could—for the sake of the estate. Because though it was not a rich estate, it was a fine one that had to be preserved. She could make an excellent liaison, she was sure, for the same imbalance that militated against Jesse's success militated in favor of hers: the scarcity of desirable females. She had everything to gain—yet she was fundamentally dissatisfied.

She did not want the estate; she wanted adventure. She did not want a good marriage; she wanted love. For a brief period she had had both adventure and love—and lost them. How could she remain in an alien body across the Milky Way Galaxy? How could she love a creature who resembled a squirting jellyfish? It was all impossible, and properly over—yet there was now little flavor to human existence. Heem, Heem!

The sound of one more dragon-coach came. Another guest, arriving late? Jessica checked her tally; all the usual crowd were accounted for. She pushed another button on her hand unit, reminded poignantly of the way a HydrO would have needled that button with a jet of water, and got the readout: Morrow.

Morrow? He was an older clone, married, not given to attending the basically juvenile functions of the young clones. If there were such a thing as metamorphosis among human beings, Morrow had passed it, and put aside childish things. Also, his attractive clone-wife would not approve of his frolicking among the nymphs at this stage.

The sound of the approach became loud enough for all to hear: not a single-dragon coach, but a grandiose four-dragon chariot. Only a man like Morrow had either the money or the nerve to use such an artifact; dragons could get quarrelsome in teams. But Morrow—was Morrow.

Jessica walked over and consulted with her brother. "Morrow coming; know what to make of it?"

"Morrow!" he exclaimed. "So soon out of mourning!"

"Mourning?"

"Where have you been the past fortnight? Across the Galaxy? Morrow's wife got hit by a runaway dragon-et she thought was tame. They destroyed the animal, of course, but she was too badly injured; she took euth."

"Euthanasia? She died?"

"Successful euth usually is fatal, yes, brother," Jesse agreed. He never called her "sister" in company. "Some clones have consideration enough to honor such a request, instead of gallivanting off to far places on vacation."

"Some vacation!" she muttered, hitting him lightly on the shoulder in masculine fashion. She was glad she had saved her brother, and not been a murderess, and knew he was glad too; that lightened her mood. She had gambled and won, in this respect, at least.

Flowers moved across from the refreshment site as well as his several little feet permitted. Flowers put up with a lot of indignity for the sake of his charges. Without his discretion and help, Jessica could never have managed her transfer ruse. Flowers had insisted on taking care of the vacant host at home, so that the Society of Hosts had no knowledge of the exchange or of Jessica's sex. Had the truth come out, Flowers could have been disbarred as a retainer, but he had taken the risk—for the sake of the estate. Other clones had in the past proffered very good terms for his service, but he had been loyal to this estate, and to the Jess-clones.

"The Lord Morrow grieves for his cherished wife, but needs another," Flowers said gravely. "His estate is large, and his son is yet a child."

"He could hire a nurse," Jessica pointed out. "God knows he's rich enough! He certainly doesn't need to preempt another clone-female from an already critically short supply." She felt a genuine indignity.

"Lord Morrow is not a reasonable man," Flowers replied, in a typical understatement. There had been stories of Morrow in his younger days, taming rogue dragons, substituting for a gladiator in a genuine contest and winning, traveling the Cluster in transfer for the mere sake of adventure. Neither caution nor finance had ever stopped him from indulging his mood of the moment, until his slip of a wife had twined him about her finger. Morrow's weakness had at last been exposed: he could not deny the woman he loved. Now it seemed he had been loosed again, having been also unable to deny his wife her demand for death.

Jessica remembered another male who had been that way, to a certain extent.

Tough to the point of foolishness, but weak against females of any species.

Heem...

"Actually, it will be a good deal for the one he chooses," Jesse remarked. "Even if he takes a child bride, he has a lot to offer, both physically and socially.

I understand he's very gentle, at home."

"But an ogre in public," Jessica amended. She nerved herself, and glided to the ballroom entrance to greet the widower.

Morrow was a huge, dusky man, black of beard, with muscles like those of the gladiator he had impersonated. It was rumored that he still exerted himself with archaic barbell weights by way of entertainment or meditation. Certainly no runaway baby dragon would have crushed him, Jessica was daunted by his gruff power that seemed to radiate from his body.

"Welcome to HydrO-clone Ball, my Lord Morrow," she said formally, showing the deference due an elder clone. Actually, he was only a decade older than she, but age was not the only distinction. "This is an unexpected pleasure."

The giant stared at her, his eyes narrowed appraisingly. "I like your costume not," he said. "Remove it."

Jessica smiled in her masculine mode, though she felt an ugly chill. There was something about this man, a barely leashed violence. "My Lord?"

Morrow shot forward a monstrous hand, catching her forearm with a punishing grip. "Off with the mask, hypocrite!"

Jessica choked off her scream, for it would have betrayed her nature instantly.

She struggled ineffectively to free herself. "My Lord Morrow!"

The entire ballroom quieted. The clones were watching the scene, smiling, assuming it was a programmed skit for their entertainment. Only Flowers realized that this was no skit, and knew the possible consequence. He started forward, his extra feet bumping against his real ones.

Morrow grasped the lapel of Jessica's suit with his other hand and exerted his horrible muscles. The flimsy material tore lengthwise down the front, exposing her strapped halter.

"What is this?" Morrow demanded, as the smiles of the clones broke into appreciative laughs. Nakedness was nothing, but involuntary nakedness was exciting, even in a skit. "A bandage on the uninjured man?"

"Yes," Jessica cried, numbed. "An injury—" An injury to her spirit more than to her body.

Flowers arrived. "My Lord, if you please—"

Morrow hooked two fingers in the strap and ripped down. The material tore, and suddenly both Jessica's breasts were bared. Now she screamed.

"See what we have hiding here!" Morrow bellowed, tearing away the remainder of her suit and turning her around for all the clones to view. Flowers tried to cover her with his jacket, which he had providently collected on the way, but Morrow shoved him gently but forcefully away. "I would not hurt you, old man; I seek your service for my own estate. But stand clear." And the retainer had to withdraw.

"See!" Morrow repeated, half cupping one of Jessica's breasts with an open hand.

For a moment the clones stared in disbelief. Then one whistled. "Those are real!" he exclaimed, laughing. Jessica found herself too numb to protest.

"Yes, it is funny, is it not?" Morrow roared. With a bound and reach of surprising swiftness he approached and caught the laughing young man. "We laugh as we strip away our pretenses, do we not?" And he tore the man's Squam-costume lengthwise.

The young clone, cowed, clutched his tattered costume to his body.

"Laugh!" Morrow bellowed, ripping away more of it.

The lad laughed, somewhat hysterically, now standing naked.

Morrow lurched to the side, catching a girl in a HydrO costume. He ripped it off her. "Laugh!" he commanded. She shrieked her embarrassed laughter.

The huge man whirled on the rest of them. "Off, off with it all! Laugh! Laugh!

It is funny, is it not?"

And in moments he had the whole room naked, himself included, everyone laughing nervously.

Morrow returned to Jessica, who had remained frozen. Her nightmare had finally become literal, and it was every bit as bad as she had ever feared. "You I claim," Morrow announced, like a dragon roaring over a fresh kill. "I found you, and you are female and you are fair, most fair, and what shame remains to you that these others do not share?"

"You think that's reason to marry a monster?" Jessica demanded, flushing to the waist. How had this brute known her secret? Why had he come for her, instead of for one of the nymphs who would have been glad to have him? Not that he was unattractive, or his attention unflattering, but—

"Not entirely. Yet I promised you this needling of your fundamental shame, and you promised to accept it in the proper spirit. Do you renege, alien female?"

"Alien female!" she repeated. "What address is this?"

Morrow drew her inexorably in toward him. "Do you forget so quickly, creature-who-eats? Did you lie when you claimed your kind suffered no metamorphosis? After we solved the riddle of concepts, threaded Star and Hole, and fought the monsters? You taught me vision, you taught me love, you addicted me to these things, that I can never experience as a HydrO, and now I come to spray with you—do you dare reject me, image-of-Squam?"

"Heem!" she cried, belief and disbelief colliding. "But it can't be—you metamorphosed—"

"Alas, it reverted again. The first time the immaturity of the need for vengeance nullified it; the second time, the alienness of love, I could not yield that emotion, and so it undermined my maturity, and I remembered, and I knew what I had lost, and so I traveled in transfer to seek out my second nemesis and conquer her."

She felt dizzy. "But what of Morrow?"

"You also taught me how truce could be made, even with aliens, even with creatures of anathema, who are no longer evil when understood. I promised the sufferer a good wife, one he would appreciate when his grief abated; he promised me the first month. Thereafter we share. He is a good creature, though he eats; but he is bereft of his love, as I am."

Flowers drew near again. "Jess, is this man hurting you? I have fetched a laser weapon—"

She faced her old retainer. She took a deep breath, for the first time unashamed to show her bosom in public. "Flowers, don't ask questions. Just pick up the largest bowl of pseudofruit punch you can heft, bring it here, and dump it over our heads. Now!"

Bewildered but loyal, Flowers did as he was told. As the other naked clones stared, the sweetened fluid washed over their two heads and bodies, soaking them with its flavor.

"Now we spray together," Jessica said, kissing the creature she loved.

Copyright © 1980 Piers Anthony Jacob

ISBN: 0-380-75556-4