"The Tower's only an hour off," he said easily. "We've got our own island. Not so extraordinary when you consider that Replay is mostly islands, with very few open oceans; but Wetplace is unusual."

"Tower? Wetplace? We're supposed to be going to the Green Island Hostelry."

"Only theoretically, luv. Take my word for it, you'll prefer the Tower. It's got some interesting extras that would startle the management of a common tourist trap like the Green Island. Magnificent view from the top, and the privacy can't be beat. Can't even be broken, in fact" He giggled (that was one thing the cosmeticians hadn't been able to correct). "Oh, everyone who visits the Tower enjoys it!"

"I'm sure," she said drily.

"Especially some of the interesting devices I've had installed in my own quarters. Many of them custombuilt, you know."

"I can imagine." There was a pause. "You don't intend to turn around, I take it?" she said finally.

He sniggered. "Not while I'm still vertical, sister!" He kicked over the autopilot and reached out. Not voluptuous, no, but the breast that Oiled his left hand was more than satisfying. Expecting at least a mild protest, he was surprised (and a bit disappointed) when she continued to allow him to fondle her.

"All right. That little island coming up on our left ... the one with the climax vegetation."

"Clever, too," he grinned. Inwardly he was upset Sine needles and bugs! Oh well, if she wanted to start that way...

"Your wish is my command." He drew away and swung the hovercraft in a tight arc, slowing.

"Your snappy repartee stuns me," she said, but he chose to ignore the sarcasm. Plenty of time to wipe that out.

He pulled into a small cove, dodging one floating log, and cut the engine at the proper moment. The phaeton sank gently into the sand. lie released the doors, letting her exit first no he could watch the tight suit tauten over bar perfect backside as she stepped out. He followed.

Passing her, he unlocked a side storage compartment in the lee of the ship, started to pull out a large package.

"I think you'll find that for an inflatable setup this is rather exotic, including as it does a "

"Don't bother."

He paused in his unwrapping, looked up at her. She was grinning right back.

"I hope you'll understand, but while you're not bad looking, something about obvious cosmetic jobs puts me off my tick. More importantly, initial psycho-emotional analysis indicates mental discrepancies confluent with your successive immature oeillades."

"Huh?"

"To summarize, you don't turn me on, buster. And besides," she said as she turned to re-enter the cab of the raft, "it's way past my check-in time."

"Just a second, pretty bitch. You know what this is?" All pretense at politeness had been dropped. A small object sat in his palm. She glanced down at it.

"It appears to be a Secun vibraknife, battery powered. Very efficient. It will cut many metals, most plastics, but not ceramic alloy and -a few other things. Do I pass?" She was facing him now, hands on hips.

"Oh you are funny. But we'll change that. Since your face is not composed of ceramic alloy, or 'a few other things,' this toy is sufficient to make a very unpretty mess of it. I'd rather do this nicely, but if you'd rather be persuaded-

"Okay, okay. I was only kidding, luv! I'm convinced." She came towards him, biting her lower lip uncertainly, and put both hands around his neck. Trembling, her lips moved towards his.

Kingsley was puzzled. He couldn't remember lying down. That blueness above him was unquestionably the sky, so he knew he was lying down. Yes, it was very blue and had fluffy white clouds in it.

The back of his neck hurt.

He sat up and rubbed it. The Phaeton floated a few meters offshore. The tall girl was leaning out of the cabin, staring back at him.

"Sorry, Mr. Kingsley! The tag next to the ignition here lists several private comm numbers. I'll see that someone comes out to pick you up before it gets too cold!"

Maybe he could make it to the craft before she could swing away. He got to his feet and started a mad dash for the beach. He got four steps before an excruciating twinge at the back of his neck crumpled him to the sand.

"Goddamn you!" he moaned. "What did you do to me?"

"Cooled your ardor!" she yelled back over the dull whine of the idling fans. "Nothing permanent. Ask next time before you reach!" She closed the door and pivoted the ship expertly, flinging small wavelets onto the beach.

He sat staring after her long after the hovercraft Led disappeared over the horizon. Curses did equal time with moans.

His sea-green foxfire vest was full of sand.

"Miss Kitten Kai-sung?" The clerk tried hard to keep from goggling at her. She nodded. The gangling adolescent was trying to shift his eyes from the computerized registry to her face without lingering on any of the intervening territory. He was failing miserably. Eighteen, maybe nineteen. Only a few years younger than she. But the way he was staring at her you'd drink he'd never seen ....!

She sighed. She ought to be used to this by now. The smile she gave him was seductive.

"And you say the room has a nice view?"

"Oh yes, ma'm! Best in the hotel! You can see most of the harbor. It's nice here. You're away from the noise of the shuttleport and docks." He hesitated, stared statue-like at the register. "Uh, if there's anything, uh, you need, Miss Kai-sung ... ask for Roy. That's I. Me." He didn't have enough room in the tiny clerk's cubby for an honest swagger, but he tried.

She reached out and touched the tip of his nose with a finger, dropping list voice another octave.

"Ishall keep that in mind ... Roy." She turned to leave.

"Oh, Miss Kai-sung!"

"Call me Kitten, Roy."

The youth grew ten centimeters. Hate yourself, hussy, half of her thought! Love it. came the other half's reply!

"There's someone been waiting up for you in your room. He has diplomatic credentials, so I couldn't keep him out. Says he's an old friend. He's not human."

"That's all right. I'm expecting him. His name's Porsupah, isn't it?"

"Yes," the boy said in surprise. "You know him, then?" "I've been his mistress for five years. Those Tolians ... She rolled her eyes as the door to the lift closed, leaving a fish-eyed clerk below. Somehow she contained her laughter. By eventide 90 percent of the hotel staff would know about the "stranger" in room 36.

Her apartments were at the end of the hallway. She inserted her right thumb into the small recess at the left of the room number. The door registered her with the central computer and it slid back with the slightest hiss from the pneumatic guide rail.

She had a small suite. It was tastefully decorated, just extravagant enough to be in keeping with bar supposed income. A well-stuffed conversation round was at one end of the greeting room, facing a broad ocean-view window. The being perched on it was the only thing out of place in the room.

That worthy stared back at her evenly. It ... he ... was just over a meter and a third in height. He looked remarkably like an oversized, portly raccoon. The major differences from the tiny tartan mammal consisted of six long, dexterous fingers, more massive forearms, and a high, intelligent brow. There was no mask, the ears were sharply pointed and proportionately larger than the terran look-alike, and the rear feet were webbed.

It also possessed a biting tenor voice. This it used at her entrance, with practiced effect.

"Where the conceptualized clam excretement have youBEEN?"

Kitten tossed her thighbag on a small table holding local magazines and a vase of dampish green flowers.