"What you did in the past is gone." The major snapped his fingers. "Gone like that. What you do now, with the Reich Reich in peril-that is what matters. And you have not denied that you were captured in the company of a Lizard." in peril-that is what matters. And you have not denied that you were captured in the company of a Lizard."

"How could I deny it?" Drucker said. "I was sitting next to him when your men shot him. What I do deny is that my sitting next to him makes me disloyal to the Reich. Reich. I'm as loyal to the I'm as loyal to the Fuhrer Fuhrer as any man here. Where's as any man here. Where's your your telegram from General Dornberger, telegram from General Dornberger, Herr Herr Major?" Major?"

That should have been a corker. Unfortunately, Drucker saw that it didn't do as much corking as he'd hoped it would. Sure enough, the young major's eyes might have come off an SS recruiting poster: they were gray-blue like ice, and every bit as cold. He said, "It is by no means certain that the Fuhrer Fuhrer is not a traitor to the is not a traitor to the Reich. Reich. He yielded to the Race too soon, and he yielded far too much in the terms for what he calls peace but is in fact only appeas.e.m.e.nt." He yielded to the Race too soon, and he yielded far too much in the terms for what he calls peace but is in fact only appeas.e.m.e.nt."

More royal than the king, Drucker thought. Aloud, he said, "If he hadn't yielded, every square millimeter of Germany would be covered with radioactive gla.s.s right now. You wouldn't be alive to tell me this nonsense. I might still be alive, because I was out in s.p.a.ce. But I wouldn't have gone for a ride with that Lizard, because I would have known everybody in my family was dead." Drucker thought. Aloud, he said, "If he hadn't yielded, every square millimeter of Germany would be covered with radioactive gla.s.s right now. You wouldn't be alive to tell me this nonsense. I might still be alive, because I was out in s.p.a.ce. But I wouldn't have gone for a ride with that Lizard, because I would have known everybody in my family was dead."

"If you support the Fuhrer's Fuhrer's spinelessness, you condemn yourself out of your own mouth," the holdouts' leader replied in a voice as frigid as his eyes. spinelessness, you condemn yourself out of your own mouth," the holdouts' leader replied in a voice as frigid as his eyes.

Drucker felt like pounding his head against the table. "If you don't follow the policies of your own Fuhrer, Fuhrer, of the of the Reich's Fuhrer, Reich's Fuhrer, how can you call yourself soldiers of the how can you call yourself soldiers of the Reich Reich any more? You're not soldiers. You're just bandits." any more? You're not soldiers. You're just bandits."

"We are soldiers of the true Reich, Reich, the pure the pure Reich, Reich, the the Reich Reich we struggle to bring back into being, the we struggle to bring back into being, the Reich Reich that will have a that will have a Fuhrer Fuhrer worthy of it, not a collaborationist." By a slight change in tone, the major suggested the worthy of it, not a collaborationist." By a slight change in tone, the major suggested the Reich Reich might not have to look too far to find such a might not have to look too far to find such a Fuhrer. Fuhrer. And, by the faces of the two men who'd grilled Drucker before, they agreed with him. And, by the faces of the two men who'd grilled Drucker before, they agreed with him.

As far as Drucker was concerned, they were all out of their minds. Of course, nine hundred ninety-nine people out of a thousand in Munich in 1921 would have said the same thing about Hitler and his handful of followers, too. But how many would-be Hitlers had there been in Germany then? Hundreds, surely. Thousands, more likely. What were the odds this fellow was the genuine article? Slim. Very, very slim.

Genuine article or not, he had the whip hand here. And he plainly intended to use it. "By the power vested in me as an officer of the Reich- Reich-the true Reich, Reich, the uncorrupted the uncorrupted Reich- Reich-I now pa.s.s sentence on you for treason against that Reich," Reich," he said. "The sentence will be-" he said. "The sentence will be-"

Before he could tell Drucker what it would be, one of his young bully-boys strode into the tobacconist's back room with a package in his hand. The major paused. Drucker wondered why he bothered. He wondered why the major bothered with the whole rigmarole in the first place, when he'd plainly decided to execute Drucker in the name of what he called people's justice.

His bully-boy sent Drucker a curious glance. The fellow was seventeen or eighteen, with the fuzzy beginnings of a beard. Drucker's hand started to go to his own chin; in however long he'd been in captivity, he'd raised a thicker growth than that kid owned.

The hand froze halfway to his face. The kid was staring at him, too. "Heinrich?" Drucker whispered, at the same time as the bully-boy was saying, "Father?" Drucker sprang out of his chair, the hard-faced major and his own impending death sentence utterly forgotten. He and his son jumped into each other's arms.

"What's going on here?" the major demanded.

"What's going on here, sir?" Heinrich Drucker demanded in return. "I knew we'd taken a prisoner, but I didn't know who." By the look on his his face, he was ready to fight his commander and everyone else in the world. Drucker had been the same way at the same age. Danger in his voice, Heinrich went on, "Was this a treason trial?" face, he was ready to fight his commander and everyone else in the world. Drucker had been the same way at the same age. Danger in his voice, Heinrich went on, "Was this a treason trial?"

"Now that you mention it, yes," Drucker said. He had to grab his son to keep him from going for the major's throat.

"Perhaps," the holdout leader said, "in the light of this new evidence-"

"Evidence, am I?" Heinrich growled.

"In the light of this new evidence," the major repeated, "perhaps we can justify suspending sentence for the time being. Perhaps." Considering what had been about to happen to him, Drucker didn't even mind the qualifier.

Felless was glad to escape Cairo and return to Ma.r.s.eille. She'd never imagined she would think such a thing, but it remained a truth nonetheless. She'd seen for herself that she couldn't get rid of her ginger habit. Creating another scandal right under the eye turrets of the fleetlord of the conquest fleet would undoubtedly have got her sent to a worse place than Ma.r.s.eille. That not-empire called Finland, newly under the Race's influence, was supposed to have weather abominable even by Tosevite standards.

She let out a hiss of relief that she'd touched off only one small mating frenzy in Cairo, and that word of it hadn't got back to Atvar. She had Ttomalss to thank for that. She didn't like being indebted to the other psychological researcher, but knew full well that she was. If he wanted something from her one of these days, she didn't see how she could keep from giving it to him.

At least she wasn't gravid-or she didn't think she was. That took away one worry pertaining to ginger-induced s.e.xuality, anyhow. And so she peered out of the small windows of her aircraft at the blue water below-such a lot of water on this world-and waited to land at the field outside Ma.r.s.eille.

Once the aircraft had rolled to a halt, she got out and arranged transportation to the new consulate building. Formalities were minimal; the Francais, unlike the Deutsche, didn't go out of their way to make things difficult for the Race.

They had better not, she thought. she thought. They owe us a great deal more than I owe Ttomalss. They owe us a great deal more than I owe Ttomalss. Of course, by all indications, the Big Uglies worried a great deal less than the Race did about their debts. Of course, by all indications, the Big Uglies worried a great deal less than the Race did about their debts.

All the motorcars outside the terminal building were of Tosevite manufacture and had Big Uglies driving them. She got into one and said, "To the consulate." She spoke in her language, since she knew no other.

"It shall be done," the driver said. He opened and closed his hands four times. "Twenty francs." Francs, she knew, were what the local Big Uglies used for money. She had some of the little metal disks. They differed in value, depending on their size and design. Somewhere on them, no doubt, were Tosevite numerals. Felless had never bothered learning those, but she did know which size was worth ten francs. She gave the driver two of those. He made the Race's affirmative gesture. "I thank you."

By the time he got her to the consulate, Felless was by no means sure she thanked him. She had seen that many Tosevites drove as if they did not care whether they lived or died. This Francais male seemed to be actively courting death. He drove as if his motorcar were a missile, and guided it into tiny openings, even into imaginary openings, defying everyone around him. Back on Home, males of some animal species used such challenges to establish territories during the mating season. What purpose they served here was beyond Felless' comprehension.

She escaped from the motorcar as if escaping prison-though she had trouble imagining a prison as dangerous as the trip from the airfield-and fled into the consulate. After exchanging greetings with some of the males and females there, she went back to her own room. The chamber she'd had at Shepheard's Hotel had been adequate, but this was home.

She felt like having a taste of ginger to celebrate surviving her encounter with the maniacal Big Ugly, but refrained. Suppertime was coming, and she knew she would want to go down to the refectory: through some tradition probably older than the unification of Home under the Empire, aircraft never served adequate meals. The time for the herb will come, The time for the herb will come, she told herself. Sooner or later, she always found a chance to taste. she told herself. Sooner or later, she always found a chance to taste.

When she did go to the refectory, she had trouble getting time to eat. She was too busy greeting friends and acquaintances and giving them gossip from Cairo and about her work with Straha. Everyone paid attention when she talked about that; the ex-shiplord fascinated veterans from the conquest fleet and also males and females from among the colonists. He'd fascinated Felless, too; his tale of disobedience and defection was far outside the Race's normal pattern of behavior.

Because Felless spent so much time talking, she took a while to notice that the food wasn't up to the quality of what she'd been eating in Cairo. She shrugged-what could one expect in a provincial place like France? She also took a while to notice that one familiar face was missing. "Where is Business Administrator Keffesh?" she asked the female sitting beside her.

"Had you not heard?" the other female exclaimed in surprise. "But no, you could not have-you were in Cairo. How foolish of me. Well, Business Administrator Keffesh is now Prisoner Keffesh, I am afraid. He was caught dealing ginger with a notorious Tosevite. The herb is such a nuisance." She spoke with the smug superiority of one who had never tasted.

"Truth: the herb is indeed a nuisance," Felless said in a hollow voice. If Keffesh was a prisoner, he'd presumably been interrogated and had presumably confessed and told all he knew in the hope of gaining leniency. Felless wondered if he'd reckoned his dealings with her important enough to mention to the authorities.

One way or the other, she would find out before long. Either nothing would happen or she would get yet another unpleasant telephone call from Amba.s.sador Veffani. Or perhaps Veffani wouldn't bother telephoning. Perhaps he would simply send law-enforcement officials to search her chamber and arrest her if they found any illicit ginger-a redundancy if ever there was one.

But then she made the negative gesture under the table. Veffani could have ordered her chamber searched while she was in Cairo. Had he done so, he would without a doubt have radioed an order for her arrest to the Race's administrative center. Since he hadn't, maybe Keffesh hadn't implicated her after all. She could hope he hadn't, anyhow.

She sipped at the fermented fruit juice that accompanied her meal. Alcohol was a pleasure familiar from Home, and she didn't mind the taste of this particular Tosevite variation on the theme. Next to ginger, though, alcohol seemed pretty pallid stuff. I will taste again, I will taste again, she thought fiercely. she thought fiercely. I I will, will, by the Emperor. by the Emperor.

As she cast down her eye turrets, the irony of swearing by her sovereign when contemplating the illegal herb struck her. She shrugged. The Emperor didn't know what he was missing. It would be many years before he found out, if he ever did.

After learning the news about Keffesh, getting out of the refectory and back to her chamber felt like escape, almost as much as getting out of the wild Big Ugly's motorcar had. But that Francais male couldn't have pursued her here. The telephone, that dangerous instrument, could-and did. She flinched when it hissed. "Senior Researcher Felless," she said. "I greet you."

As she'd feared, Veffani's image was the one that appeared on her monitor. "And I greet you, Senior Researcher," he replied. "Welcome home. I trust your journey from Cairo went well?"

"I thank you, superior sir. Yes, it went well enough." Felless was delighted to stick to polite commonplaces. "It went well enough till I landed here at Ma.r.s.eille, at any rate." She had no trouble working up indignation while recounting the antics of her driver.

And Veffani was sympathetic there, when he'd proved much less so elsewhere. "This is a problem here, and it is a problem in many parts of Tosev 3 where we rule directly," he said. "Before we came to Tosev 3, the Big Uglies did not even build their motorcars with safety belts. They kill one another by the tens of thousands, and seem utterly indifferent to the carnage."

"I count myself lucky that I was not among the slain earlier today," Felless said.

"I am glad you were not," Veffani said. "I have had nothing but fine reports of your work in Cairo, and I take no small pleasure in telling you so."

"That is very good news, superior sir," Felless replied. You have no idea how good it is. If you did have any such idea, you would be telling me something altogether different. And you would take no small pleasure in that, either. You have no idea how good it is. If you did have any such idea, you would be telling me something altogether different. And you would take no small pleasure in that, either. "It was a very interesting experience, and one where I learned a good deal." "It was a very interesting experience, and one where I learned a good deal."

"Do I understand that your commission concluded the Tosevite Warren acted as he did from reasons of policy rather than on a whim or out of despair after being discovered in his efforts against us?" Veffani asked.

"That is the consensus, yes," Felless answered. "Thanks to data Straha obtained from private Tosevite sources, no other conclusion seemed possible."

"Too bad," Veffani said. "I would rather have been able to reckon him a fool, but he served his not-empire well."

"He was a murderous barbarian, and I am glad to know that he is dead and no longer a danger to the Race," Felless said.

"I agree with every word of what you have said," Veffani answered. "None of that, however, in any way contradicts what I said."

"No, I suppose not." Felless paused and thought about the amba.s.sador's tone of voice. "You admire admire him, superior sir. Is that not a truth?" She knew she sounded accusing. She enjoyed sounded accusing, as a matter of fact. She'd spent a lot of time listening to Veffani's accusations, which were usually all too well justified. Now she could get some of her own back. him, superior sir. Is that not a truth?" She knew she sounded accusing. She enjoyed sounded accusing, as a matter of fact. She'd spent a lot of time listening to Veffani's accusations, which were usually all too well justified. Now she could get some of her own back.

"Maybe I do," Veffani admitted. "Have you never admired some particularly skillful opponent in a game?"

"Of course I have." Felless made her voice stiff with disapproval. "But I would hardly call our continuing struggle against the Big Uglies a game."

"No? Would you not, Senior Researcher?" Veffani said. "Then what else is it? To me, it is the largest, most complex game ever played, and also the game with the highest stakes. One can hardly help respecting the Big Uglies who played it well."

"They play it with our lives," Felless said angrily.

"Well, so they do," Veffani said. "We play it with their lives, too. And if you are going to look at methods, they have done few things to us that we have not also done to them. They save their worst horrors for their own kind."

"And I suppose you will be excusing those next," Felless said.

The amba.s.sador made the negative gesture. "I excuse nothing. But neither do I diminish the Tosevites and their accomplishments. That is a failing too much encountered among the males and females of the colonization fleet. The Big Uglies are barbarians, yes. They are not not fools." He used an emphatic cough. "Treat them as fools and you will regret it." That rated another emphatic cough. fools." He used an emphatic cough. "Treat them as fools and you will regret it." That rated another emphatic cough.

"I understand, superior sir," Felless said, which was a long way from saying that she agreed.

With maddening patience, Veffani said, "Experience will eventually teach you the same thing, Senior Researcher." Felless thought he would say farewell then. Instead, he added, "Experience should also teach you to be wary of which males you choose as your acquaintances. Good day." His image did disappear then.

Felless stared at the monitor even after Veffani was gone. He knows. He knows. She shuddered. She shuddered. He may not know quite enough to charge me, but he knows. What do I do now? He may not know quite enough to charge me, but he knows. What do I do now?

Penny Summers set hands on hips and glared at Rance Auerbach across their hotel room. She was wearing a beige dress with a flowery print. That almost made her disappear into the wallpaper, which was also beige and floral. She said, "I didn't know we were setting ourselves up as a charity. I reckoned we got into this business to make money, not to save the poor and the downtrodden."

"Oh, we might make some money off this," Rance answered. He'd known Penny would be angry. He hadn't thought she'd be quite so angry as she was.

"That's not why you're doing it, though," she snapped. "You're doing it because you think that little French gal is cute."

Oho, he thought. he thought. So that's it. So that's it. As a matter of fact, he did think Monique Dutourd was cute, but letting Penny know that didn't strike him as the smartest idea he'd ever had. He said, "Yeah, and I gave David Goldfarb a hand on account of he was just the prettiest thing I ever did see." He rolled his eyes and sighed as if he meant it. As a matter of fact, he did think Monique Dutourd was cute, but letting Penny know that didn't strike him as the smartest idea he'd ever had. He said, "Yeah, and I gave David Goldfarb a hand on account of he was just the prettiest thing I ever did see." He rolled his eyes and sighed as if he meant it.

Penny did her best to stay mad, but she couldn't quite manage. "G.o.d d.a.m.n you," she said affectionately. "You are a piece of work, aren't you?"

"Have to be, to keep up with you," he said. That was flattery, but flattery with a good deal of underlying truth. He went on, "Besides, with Pierre the t.u.r.d in the Lizard hoosegow, doing our regular sort of business isn't as easy as it used to be. We ought to thank G.o.d he hasn't ratted on us. So we'll try something different for a while, okay? And his sister did warn us the Lizards caught him."

Penny still didn't look happy. "I know when I'm being sweet-talked, Rance Auerbach. I know when I'm being conned, too. And if this ain't one of those times..."

"Then it's something else," Auerbach said. "That's what I've been trying to tell you, if you'd only listen to me."

"You've been trying to tell me all kinds of things," Penny said sourly. "I haven't heard a whole lot of what I'd call truth. But you're bound and determined to try this, aren't you?" She waited for Rance to nod, then nodded herself. "Okay. If it works out, great. If it doesn't, or if you start fooling around behind my back, there's not going to be any place far enough away for you to hide."

Rance nodded again. "I like lost causes. I must. I took you in a while ago, didn't I? Or did you manage to forget about that?"

Astonishment spread over her face as she raised a hand to her cheek. "Now you've gone and made me blush, and I don't know when the h.e.l.l the last time I did that was. Okay, Rance, go do it, and we'll see what happens. But you better remember what I said about that French gal, too."

"I'm not likely to forget," he said. "You want to come along and hold my hand?"

"I oughta say yes," Penny answered. "But you're the one who speaks French, and I'm the one Pierre's likelier to have fingered to the Lizards, if he went and fingered anybody. Go on. Just be careful, that's all."

"I will." Auerbach wondered how much help he'd get from Penny if something did go wrong. One more thing I don't want to have to find out, One more thing I don't want to have to find out, he thought. he thought.

He met Monique Dutourd in a little cafe not far from the dress shop where she'd found work after her brother was arrested. "Bonjour," "Bonjour," he said, and then, in English, "Are you ready?" he said, and then, in English, "Are you ready?"

"I think so," she said. "I hope so." She rose, draining the winegla.s.s in front of her.

"Then let's go," he said. "Allons-y. "Allons-y. I have the taxi waiting outside." I have the taxi waiting outside."

The taxi, inevitably, was a Volkswagen. Rance hated getting into and out of the buggy little holdovers from the Reich. Reich. Being knee to knee with Monique in the back seat made up for some of that, as it had with Penny, but not enough. Monique was the one who spoke to the driver: "The consulate of the Race, if you please." Being knee to knee with Monique in the back seat made up for some of that, as it had with Penny, but not enough. Monique was the one who spoke to the driver: "The consulate of the Race, if you please."

"It shall be done," he said in the Lizards' language, and got the VW going with a horrible clash of gears.

Getting out of the taxi, as usual, was even harder for Auerbach than getting into it had been. He paid off the driver; from what he'd seen, Monique wasn't rolling in loot. They went into the consulate together. A Lizard looked up from whatever he-or maybe she-had been doing and spoke in hissing French: "Oui? Qu'est-ce que vous desirez?" "Oui? Qu'est-ce que vous desirez?"

"We want to see the female named Felless," Rance answered in the language of the Race. He didn't speak it well, but judged it would be useful here.

It got the receptionist's attention, at any rate. "I will ask," the Lizard said. "Give me your names."

"It shall be done," Rance said, as the taxi driver had before him. Once he'd named himself and Monique, he added, "I thank you." When dealing with Lizard officialdom, he made a point of being polite.

"You are welcome," this Lizard said, so it must have done some good. "Now please wait." After talking on the telephone, the Lizard swung an eye turret back toward Auerbach and Monique. "Senior Researcher Felless will be here shortly."

"I thank you," Rance said again. Monique nodded. He switched to French for her: "It could be that this will work."

"It could be," she echoed. Then, just for a moment, she set a hand on his arm. "Thank you very much for trying. No one else has cared at all."

"We'll see what we can do, that's all," he said in English. "If you don't bet, you can't win." He wasn't sure he could have put that into French. She nodded again to show she understood.

Auerbach started to say something more, but a Lizard came up the hallway from the back part of the consulate. The receptionist pointed with his-her?-tongue. The newly arrived Lizard walked over to him and Monique and said, "I greet you. I am Felless. Which of you is which?"

"I am Auerbach," Rance said in the Lizards' language. Then he introduced Monique, adding, "And we greet you." He wanted to laugh about Felless' inability to tell them apart at a glance, but he didn't. If Monique hadn't told him, he wouldn't have known Felless was a female, so why wouldn't it work the other way?

"What is it that you want with me?" Felless asked. Did she recognize Monique's name? Rance couldn't tell. He didn't think she would have heard his before. That was probably just as well.

He said, "Can we find some private s.p.a.ce to speak?" That was probably a warning-it was certainly a warning if she had any brains-but he didn't see what else he could do. He sure didn't want to talk business out here in the foyer.

Felless drew back and hesitated before she spoke. She had brains, all right; she knew something was fishy, even if she didn't know what. After that momentary hesitation, she said, "Very well. Come with me." Brusquely, she turned away and went down the hallway from which she'd come. Rance and Monique followed.

He didn't know what he'd expected: that she would take the two humans back to her own quarters, perhaps. She didn't. The room into which she led them was the obvious Lizard equivalent of an Earthly conference room. Rance didn't much like the Lizards' chairs, which were too small and shaped for beings without much in the way of b.u.t.tocks. With his bad leg, though, he liked standing even less. He sat. So did Monique.

Felless, for her part, paced back and forth. When she spoke, he thought he heard bitterness in her voice: "Now you will tell me what you want. It will be something to do with ginger, I do not doubt."

"Not directly," Auerbach said. "My friend here is a scholar. She is grateful that you saved her from the prison of the Francais." He delivered a running translation for Monique, mostly in English, some in French.

"She is welcome," Felless said. "What is the point of this? It is not directly connected to ginger, you said. How is it indirectly connected?"

"When the explosive-metal bomb destroyed much of Ma.r.s.eille, it destroyed Monique's university, too," Rance answered. "Now she has no position. She wants work in what she knows about, not in selling wrappings to other Tosevites."