"Quiet! Wait a minute! Quiet!" It was Klyd calling out from his place on the table while Hrel stood beside him.

Silence welled up, drowning the merrymaking. Klyd continued, "Evahnee! Do you have the ring?"

She wriggled forward to present the crest ring to the channel, who promptly slipped it onto Hrel's little finger, calling loudly, "Unto the House of Zeor, forever!" Hrel repeated the phrase with just as much fervor.

In unison, the crowd took up the cry. "Unto the House of Zeor, forever!" Soon it became a chant, and the musicians added a strong rhythm that triggered the snake dance once more. Valleroy was sucked into it as the whole room seemed to be dancing.

From the door, a shout went up. "Clear the way! Space here! Move over!"

The dancing stopped while a Sime holding a tripod high over the heads of the crowd sidled into the room. He reached a point in front of the improvised dais, set up the tripod and attached a black box to it.

All at once, Valleroy knew what it was. He pushed and showed his way through the crowd, forgetting for the moment his wariness of the Simes. This he had to see! One of the legendary cameras of the Ancients. The Simes had resurrected some of the old arts... but this...!

After some careful preparation, the Sime instructed Hrel to pose. With a theatrical flourish, the... photographer... worked a lever.

Nothing happened.

Puzzled, the Sime bent over his box, tentacles flying. But after repeated failures, he announced, "Sorry, no pictures tonight!"

The disappointment of the crowd was almost palpable as the tripod was carried away.

Klyd called, "Hugh! Step over here a minute!"

Surprised at the sound of his native language after so many days, Valleroy slid through an opening. Klyd squatted down on the edge of the table. "Hugh, can you do a quick portrait of Hrel and me together? Just a sketch, nothing exacting."

"Sure, but I don't have anything to work with."

"That can be arranged." He stood up. "Evahnee, get a sketching board from the mill's drafting room. Hugh's going to make the portrait of us."

This set off a cheer that threatened to raise the roof, but presently another snake dance was started all around the throne. The songs took on a note of restrained ecstasy with the word "Zeor" repeated like an ardent plea.

A long time later, when Valleroy had decided they'd forgotten about the portrait in the wild emotional catharsis, several Simes manhandled a large drafting table into the room and set it up before the dais. Evahnee seated Valleroy on the bench with a cabinet of supplies at his left hand. "If there's anything else you need, just ask."

Valleroy kneaded his fingers wondering if he'd had too much to drink. Gingerly, he selected a likely looking piece of charcoal. The coarse paper was crosshatched with oddly patterned drafting lines. He turned the paper over and clipped it in place. The reverse was clear of lines, but very grainy. After several false starts, he found a charcoal soft enough to serve him, and then it went quickly.

As he sketched, the room seemed to shrink into the lighted bubble containing only himself and his subjects. He gave himself to the task in a euphoria of exquisite satisfaction, as if the frustrated creativity of years was suddenly pouring forth, relieving a tension he hadn't known was there. The joy of these people stirred something deep inside him, filling him until he knew he had to get it down on paper or die trying.

At last, the composition complete, Valleroy sat staring at it as if hypnotized. Klyd's voice pried gently into his reverie. "May we see?"

"Oh!" Valleroy jerked the page off and handed it up by a corner. "Don't smear it."

Klyd showed it to Hrel and then held it up for everyone to see. The gasps of appreciation were a more tribute than gold could have been to Valleroy. Someone started to applaud. Hesitantly, the others picked it up. Soon the room was filled with the roaring sound. Tears started to Valleroy's eyes.

Klyd beckoned the artist up onto the table. Willing hands boosted him while Klyd hauled. His legs were still too shaky for climbing. As Valleroy stood up, the applause crested and then died away as if on cue.

Raising his voice in formal tones, Klyd proclaimed, "We shall have this hung in Memorial Hall!"

The applause started again but Klyd held up a hand, tentacles twined in the "wait-a-moment" sign. "Shall we invite the artist to design our entry in the Arensti Competition?"

The unanimous affirmative was deafening. Spontaneous celebrations started in every corner of the room and spread rapidly. Under cover of the roar, Klyd said, "You may thank the photographer for this lucky break. Now you can stay as long as you like without question. I have twenty operatives out checking leads, but not a hint of your Aisha. This could take quite a while."

Valleroy hissed through his teeth, "Aisha may not have quite a while! We've got to discuss strategy. I want to get out and do some work."

"You can't. Not for at least another week." He put both hands on Valleroy's shoulders, whispering, "Hugh, God help me, Hugh, I hurt you much worse than I'd intended. If you can never forgive me, I will understand. But my House is yours until you are ready to leave." He fingered the cloth around Valleroy's neck and chuckled. "You see? They think you've joined us. An honest mistake. But you are welcome here. Now that Hrel has disjuncted, we have room for another Gen."

Valleroy brushed that aside, a cold rage building. "You brought me here because I care about Aisha. I thought that entitled me to look for her with my own eyes!"

"There isn't anything you could do right now."

"How do you know till I've tried? I came here to work!"

"Get hold of yourself, Hugh," whispered Klyd fiercely. "You're broadcasting anger, but this is a gathering of joy. The Sime Government may have spies in this very room who'd just love to discredit a channel for disloyalty as well as 'perversion'!"

Evahnee's voice lifted above the crowd. "Hugh! Would you sketch us too?"

"Go, Hugh. As our Arensti Designer, you'll be able to travel with me to the competition..."

"And just when will that be?"

"It's only eight weeks away now."

"Eight -weeks!" Valleroy spat through a wooden smile. "When every minute counts, how can you..."

"Hugh," Klyd soothed, "we have no idea where to begin looking or even // she still lives. And we must search without telling anyone who we are looking for or why."

"You brought me here," gritted Valleroy, "to keep me from interfering! Well, I'll tell you..."

Evahnee's voice came again, concerned. "Hugh?" And she started toward them.

Fuming helplessly, Valleroy eased himself off the table and went to sketch Evahnee and the Gen girl who had offered herself to Hrel at the moment of decision.

As the praise for his work mounted, people formed lines to be sketched. It had been many ears since adulation had been lavished on him, and he reveled in it. But every few moments, cold guilt washed away the warmth of easy belonging as he thought of Aisha... out there, captive in some filthy pen. He was an operative, and he had a role to play. He played it with a grim gaiety that was sometimes genuine.

With dawn paling the sky, Valleroy found himself drawing cartoons while Evahnee captioned them in Simelan. Jokes flew around the room leaving victims gasping in peals of hilarity. Most of the punch lines were obtusely Sime, and when Valleroy did laugh, be knew it was at the wrong thing... but laughter itself is infectious.

When it finally broke up, he was so exhausted Evahnee had to wheel him back to his room in a chair. He didn't remember getting into bed.

CHAPTER THREE.

Fekbo Ambrov Zeor, Martyr

DURING THE NEXT WEEK, VALLEROY WORKED AT A drafting table in the design room of the Householding factory. The buildings that housed the mills, factory, dye works, and plants of Zeor's industry were a separate complex located at some distance from the court residences.

Zeor, he discovered, made its living from weaving. Once a year, all the weavers in-Territory entered a designing contest, which was held at the city of Arensti, with the winner gaining not only prestige but also the greatest share of sales during that coming year.

As the Arensti Designer, Valleroy found himself in a position of great prestige within the Householding. He was moved from the infirmary to the bachelor's quarters, where he shared a suite with two Simes and a Gen. He was given clothes, blue coveralls with Zeor's crest neatly stitched over the breast pocket, and he was never asked if he was a visitor or a member, but simply treated as a member, though never addressed as such.