Klyd stirred. "How was it?"

The Companion frowned. "Rough. He's all right now, but his reflexes are..." He closed his eyes and sketched the barest shake of his head.

"Did you tell him about Feleho?"

"I had to. I'm still..."

From within the room, a cracked voice interrupted testily, "Don't whisper like that! I'm not dead yet!"

Klyd fixed a smile on his lips and called, "Your pardon, Sectuib. But after you're dead, voices won't disturb you."

"Get in here where I can hear you!"

"Yes, Sectuib," said Klyd, grabbing Valleroy by an arm and thrusting him hastily through the door. "Hugh, when Grandfather orders, move!"

Valleroy found himself standing in the middle of the floor of the most extraordinary room he'd ever seen.

Directly in front of the door, a canopied bed stood on a dais raised two steps above the floor. Three walls of the room appeared to be nearly all windows overlooking Zeor's fields and factory complex... a sprawling U of buildings set amid a parklike forest. The air in the room was alive with the freshness of autumn, but Valleroy could find no open windows.

The heavy drapes were drawn back admitting sparkling sun. One warm puddle of it lapped at the toes of Valleroy's shoes. Overhead a skylight was draped so that the full heat of the sun wasn't focused on the bed. But at night, Valleroy was sure, the stars lit the room magnificently.

Wherever there wasn't a window, case after ceiling-high case of books lined the walls. The wall behind Valleroy was one enormous, unbroken bookcase except for the huge double door by which they'd entered. And most of those books, thought Valleroy, looked old enough to be from the Ancients.

His hands itched to explore them, but his eye was drawn to the withered figure that lay amid the billowing quilts on the bed. With Denrau on his right and Klyd on his left, the old man shook a newspaper under their noses as if it proved conclusively the world was going to hell. "And just what do you say to this!"

The only newspaper Valleroy had seen in Zeor was the Tecton Weekly, put out by the Householdings. But from where he stood, Valleroy couldn't see what scandalous article was being discussed.

Klyd said, "Probably the same thing you said when you first read it."

The old man looked up slyly. "Then you agree with me?"

Klyd looked at Denrau holding a perfect deadpan as he said, "Only when you agree with me, Sectuib."

The three of them exploded in laughter at a long-shared family joke. Valleroy relaxed. Suddenly, Grandfather was just as human as Klyd.

Denrau and Klyd seated themselves on benches near the foot of the bed where the reclining patient could see them. For the moment, Valleroy was left standing on the vast expanse of carpet between the door and the foot of the bed. But, apparently, Grandfather couldn't see that far.

Klyd presented the folder he'd brought up from his desk. "These are the reports you asked for. I hope you find them satisfactory. Production was up ten per cent last months. Sales were seasonal."

"That's not good enough."

"But next year we'll be doing much better. I have the design that's going to win at Arensti this year."

"Well, it's about time. Let's see it. Zeor's reputation, you know."

Klyd motioned to Valleroy, who extracted the design from the folio. He had to step up into the dais at the foot of the bed so Grandfather could see it.

The old man squinted at the design, obviously struggling not to gape. One irrepressible smile quirked the corner of his mouth, but then he got hold of himself. "Might do at that. See what the mill can do with it. I want a complete bolt by the day after tomorrow."

Klyd exchanged indulgent glances with Denrau and signaled Valleroy to put the folio away. "Yes, Sectuib."

"Don't think, youngster, that I'm going to forget what day it is!"

No indulgent glances this time. Klyd said, "Yes, Sectuib."

"Was there anything else?"

"Yes, Sectuib."

"Out with it!"

"I'd like to go to the Iburan Choice tomorrow."

"Whatever for? With Feleho gone, we're Gen-high."

Klyd threw Valleroy an apologetic glance and plunged into his explanation. What it amounted to, as far as Valleroy was able to follow the rapid-fire Simelan, was that, since Valleroy had created such an enviably great Arensti entry, Zeor ought to do all it could to keep him. Since he wasn't married, the first thing Zeor had to do was to provide him with the wife of his choice. He hadn't found anyone within Zeor, and rumor had it that Iburan's Choice this month would be very close to Valleroy's requirements. It was an intricate argument that balanced economic factors against moral obligations and projected profits from the winning Arensti design... and presumed future winners yet to be created.

At length, Grandfather held up a quavering hand to stem the flood of statistics. "But what about Yenava?"

"We'll be right back, Grandfather... weeks before she's due."

"Klyd, you went against my advice marrying a Gen. Now she's giving Zeor an heir. She'll die if you're not here to supply that baby with selyn when Yenava's delivered."

"Yenava is a well-trained Companion. I don't expect much trouble."

"Nevertheless, she'll need you. That's one of the obligations..."

"I'll be there, I promise."

"I'm an old man. Nobody listens to me any more. When I was running Zeor..."

"You still run Zeor, Grandfather. I just attend to the details."

"An heir isn't a detail! The gene runs in the family. Zeor must have a Farris heir."

"Yes, Sectuib."

The old man glared at Klyd's bowed head. Finally, he threw himself deep into the pillows and sighed. "You are at least traveling with a Companion?" he asked sarcastically.

"I've selected Naztehr Hugh since he must approve any purchase made in his behalf. I'll leave Denrau in case you require him."

"I won't require him. You might."

"In any event, Denrau will be your donor this month. Naztehr Hugh will take care of me."

Valleroy's command of colloquialisms was still sketchy enough that he distrusted his understanding of that. He might be able to act the part of Companion, but he certainly couldn't serve any channel's need. Klyd knew that. Valleroy hardly had time to frame an objection, though. The old man propped himself up on his pillows and let loose a stream of colorful invective new to Valleroy... but he did recognize it as the kind of language nobody else in the Householding would dare to use to Klyd.

The channel took the caustic abuse with bowed head. "Yes, Sectuib."