Presumably no one had any hard evidence on him. Jonuta would have to be caught in the act. That had been tried. There had been a.s.sa.s.sination attempts, too. Jonuta a.s.sumed that most of those were backed by a certain Corundum, and he was sure about several. Word got around. So did Captain Corundum.

In the dimness and so-called coolth of the Wet Sand Oasis, Jonuta and Kenowa had snapped up their dark-eyes and peeled their Sektents. The tall Jonuta was dramatically and romantically attired in a long swashbuckling coat of scarlet with ornamental b.u.t.tons of bra.s.s-imitating pra.s.s, and tights. And a stopper. His boots were tall.

But it was not Jonuta the Wet Sand's patrons were looking at. Kenowa did like to dress up, or undress down, and there was quite a bit of Kenowa to be spectacular in the spectacular and often frankly kinky attire she preferred.

The thing to wear on Sekhar, Kenowa naturally decided, was Dark. Anything dark in color, to contrast with everyone else's light hues.

Her SpraYon body stocking was a metallically scin-tillant plum. It covered her from insteps to third or fourth ribs in front and rose all the way up in back to circle her neck. Jewelry of silver and violet covered seven-tenths of her otherwise bare arms with a seeming angry desire to bite into her bra.s.s-hued skin. A cerulean kaffey covered all her head except for her face.

70.Her gown, a clingy Salpese slink, fell to her insteps but was slit all the way to the crucial areas fore and aft. Above, it dived to display a tiny portion of the skinnt.i.te and a larger portion of bosom.

Kenowa had a lot of bosom to display. She was a big woman and a shapely one, with a lot of everything to display, one way or another. Displaying it was her pleasure, and Jonuta's.

It was sad, she felt, not to be able to wear Spectacular earrings and a Terasaki coil, a purple wig twenty-five sems tall.

Mighty men, truly superior men from Maddog Joshua through Xerxes and Cyrus and Julius Caesar, Napoleon and Takashi Subarishi, Jorvis and Yakubu Mpale, tended toward the kinky. Captain Jonuta tended toward the kinky. The woman who called herself his aide positively wallowed in it.

For the past hour Jonuta had been negotiating with Arsane er-Jorvistor, a very large Sek with a very large credaccount. Jonuta had come here with six walking units of merchandise. He wanted not just money, but the TDP the Seks had rather necessarily developed. The TDP was the best anti-glitch device in the galaxy. Both men wanted to deal, so both remained throughout long negotiation that now and then bordered on exchanged insults. Since each knew the other wanted to deal, both bargained hard and kept the peace. Jorvistor had inspected the merchandise in Coronet's hold up at Sekharstation, but he insisted on bargaining here, onplanet.

Kenowa sighed and punched in an order for another sugarless non-alcoholic drink. Neither she nor Jonuta trusted anyone on Sekhar. It was just that Jonuta liked to keep his hand in everywhere and move around a lot.

Things were warm for him on Shankar and Lanatia. Even their last visit to his own world of Qalara had ended with a murder attempt. (Jonuta refused to use the politician's and "news" mongers' word, a.s.sa.s.sina- 71.tion.) That had shaken him badly. Then on Franji- where he had gone, d.a.m.n it, because Kenowa knew he just couldn't forget that pallid little barbarian stash- Srih had been killed. Word was a blue-haired woman did it, but Corundum was there. She left with Corundum. By the time Jonuta learned of Srih's death, Corundum and the unknown woman had left the place and Corundum had departed Franji.

In only a few months Jonuta had barely escaped a murder attempt that had cost him his trusted longtime crewman Arel and had lost Srih as well. He was left with Kenowa and Sweetface. Necessarily he took on Sakyo and then Shig, but who could be sure of new people? (The half-wit that Sweetface had taken on as "companion" was no help.) It was tune to vanish somewhere for a nice long time, Kenowa thought. Now she knew that Jonuta agreed.

The trouble was that first he wanted a Sekharese TDP. Unfortunately, their sale was controlled by the government here, and tightly. The devices were being gobbled up by militaryIpolicers, med-research, and big s.p.a.celiner companies as fast as they could be manufactured and tested.

So. A quick deal for some human merchandise, just the type wanted and even needed on Sekhar. A long and expensive run here. And now . . . Arsane er-Jor-vistor was being as difficult as possible. It was dragging on and on and Kenowa had to make a deposit in the restroom of all the sugarless non-alcoholics she had been trying to sip slowly, but she was not about to make a move to interrupt the flow or the tension, to throw off the pace of this bargaining. She sighed, crossed legs, and tried not to listen.

Besides, she had just come up with a brilliant idea. Jonuta could acquire a TDP without all this hard labor on this hotbox world!

"But I really do not want the sixth unit," Arsane er-Jorvistor said. "Only the five, and we both know 72.that my offer for them is a good one. We have been working at it long enough!"

Jonuta, who sat almost casually with his left elbow on the table's wood-imitating glastic top, did not move a muscle. "I have six units...o...b..ard and I brought them to sell on Sekhar." His voice rumbled vibrantly up from his chest. "I do not want to leave Sekhar with the considerable trouble, worry, and risk of one unit still in my possession. I could be detained at Sek-harstation and my ship searched. I could be overhauled out in s.p.a.ce by any countryboy policer and searched, or ordered onplanet for search. We both know my risks, Arsane. I have no wish to increase them."

The very dark Sek in the virginally white jallaba and broad-brimmed hat leaned just a bit more forward. "I can't believe you are truly worried about being caught in s.p.a.ce with a piece of cargo, Captain. There is more here than that. You could and would, if necessary, merely-jettison cargo."

Kenowa began tapping her fingers. Jonuta sat up stiffly and the bra.s.s-imitating b.u.t.tons flashed on his long red coat.

"I am Jonuta," that chesty ba.s.s said. "The sort of thing you suggest I leave to such as Corundum!" And he spat. Several other patrons turned to look. No one was concerned with the spittle or crudeness, and Jonuta knew it. All, including Jorvistor, understood the extravagant gesture of a man's wasting moisture on such a planet as Sekhar. It was an extremely meaningful expression of offense taken.

"I should not have suggested it," Jorvistor said, glancing in the direction of the tapping noises. Purple fingernails, metallically aglitter at the ends of fingers the color of old bra.s.s. "I retract it, Jonuta."

Jonuta looked at Kenowa. "What is it?" His voice was as stiff as his posture. She knew better than to interrupt. He had just gained on the Sek, and Jorvistor had backed a pace.

73."I-I don't feel well, Captain," said Kenowa, who never called him captain. "I wish I could confer with your friend Daktari Kita at HaMmit, back on Qalara."

Jonuta stared at her. What she had said was idiotic, and Kenowa was not an idiot. Eumiko Kita was not a physician. She was in charge of computer maintenance and repair at Hakimit Med Center on Jonuta's home world. The three of them had scheduled a nice three-way session a few months ago, for one reason because Eumiko had quite a case on Kenowa. Unfortunately they'd had to break it off when her wrist-pager summoned her to the phone. Glitch in the Hakimit transplant monitoring computer, and- Jonuta blinked. He reached over to pat Kenowa's hand-tap-tap; tap-tap: understood. To h.e.l.l with the recalcitrant Myrzha Jorvistor. They would get the scut off this heat-tank of a world, streak straight for Qalara and Eumiko Kita. Money from the sale of the six walking units of cargo would be divided with the med center, as donation. It wouldn't take long to set up 'Miko's order for a Sekharese TDP-except that she would actually order two. Jonuta would pay full cost of his, if necessary. He had enough cred and holdings on Qalara to buy the d.a.m.ned med center!

Besides, he had a ... very personal project under way, there.

"You're right, Kenowa, and I'm sorry we've been too long." He drained bis gla.s.s decisively, carefully not-watching the drop of Jorvistor's jaw. "Arsane, I'm sorry we could not come to terms. We have to go, and now."

It was Jorvistor's turn to sit up very straight. His face showed his shock. "But-she can be treated here . . . what-what-but you just stated your fear of being ins.p.a.ce with one sla-unit, much less all six!"

"As you a.s.sumed," Jonuta said, pushing back his prestgla.s.s chair, "I was bluffing. My own world needs those six as much as Sekhar. True, all six are conditioned to high temp. But then, Qalara isn't exactly a 74.cold planet, most of the year, and they'll be happier there." "But-"

"You know I'm sorry, Arsane. What I really wanted was the TDP. I was about ready to say keep your money altogether and I'd settle for it-and, oh, a favor owed." He stood. He turned to Kenowa, extending a hand. "Let's-"

"Done," Arsane er-Jorvistor said. With Kenowa's hand in his, Jonuta swiveled his head, only his head, toward the Sekhari.

"Done," Jorvistor repeated. He knuckled the table with a rap, which on Sekhar was as good as a recorded vow. "I agree to those terms. It is not fair to you, though, and makes me feel bad. I also insist that in addition to the item you mentioned and a firm vow of favor owed, you accept-oh, a few items to be appreciated by your ailing lady."

On Sekhar, every female was a lady. At least verbally.

Kenowa was rising. Jonuta's nails dug into her hand and she groaned. It was perfect.

"d.a.m.n," Jonuta said, low. "Arsane-we've got to get offplanet. Oh, I can put her in ship's daktari, up on Coronet. But only the people at Hakimit on Qalara are fully competent to deal with the internal fungus she picked up on that d.a.m.ned soggy-well, never mind where. It can't be done. You can't get your hands on that item so swiftly and-"

"You do indeed underestimate me and overestimate the honesty of Sekhari officials," Jorvistor said quietly, also rising. "If you can see your way clear to waiting two hours from this moment, I shall be up-with the item."

Since the moment Jonuta had risen to his feet, a tall very thin being at the bar had turned to watch him. Its face was orange, true orange, and its eyes enormous, sweetly childlike and innocent in a face drawn down to a childish point at the chin. (The Sek- 75.hari woman beside him turned, also, but she did not watch Jonuta. She looked up at the orange face, and she looked sad. Strange, since a young woman that good looking and well set up didn't have to go taking up with an alien!) Jonuta released Kenowa's hand to slap and scratch his shoulder. Immediately the being at the bar half-turned to the bar's human attendant. Squeezing the arm of the woman beside him, the creature nodded, made a whistling noise, turned again, and snapped down its darkeyes. It had already paid, drink by drink, hi real Sekhari scrip. It was a Jarp, a being seldom seen on Sekhar, where of course one Jarp looked the same as another. The woman's hand remained on its arm as it moved from the bar, Sektent whirling about its long booted legs. When its motion broke contact, her arm was outstretched. It remained so, lowering very slowly, as if reluctantly. She was one of several who watched its departure, though a few in the Wet Sand-males-watched her. Their expressions were interesting mixtures of disapproval and hopefulness.

The rent-a-guards watched those who did not watch the orange humanoid.

The Jarp's name was Sweetface and upon Srih's death it had become Captain Jonuta's oldest crew-member-a.s.sociate.

Outside, it ignored stares, crossed the street between tricyclists in their temp-controlled bubbles, and turned casually. Its gaze swept the street and the buildings flanking the Wet Sand Oasis, as it had already scanned the windows and doorways on this side of the street. A four-fingered, two-thumbed hand hung near its stopper, which was in an open holster.

A two-person cycle from the outs.p.a.ce shuttle area drew up in front of the Wet Sand and its pa.s.sengers emerged. Offworlders. Before they had closed the bubble, Sweetface whistled shrilly and started for the cab. The timing was just about right; it had to stumble only 76.once before Jonuta and Kenowa, both white-cloaked and with darkeyes in place, emerged from the lounge.

"Here you," Jonuta said, pointing. "That's my trike!"

"D'lee!" Sweetface said. The warble meant "mine" but its translator was off and the sound was one no human throat could duplicate.

"Want to toss for it or fight for it, Jarp?" Jonuta and Kenowa had reached the taxi. It began to hum more loudly, its mechanism bidding it return to the shuttle area a few blocks away.

"Twe'eedl'-oo-oeeOOT'l wheefl-ll!" Sweetface said, and shook a fist as it backed away.

"You and your parent!" Jonuta snarled in a continuation of the sham for anyone who might be observing. As he rounded the trike he muttered, "Turn your d.a.m.ned translator on, Sweets, dammit!" Only the three of them heard. Sweetface claimed that the frequency of the translation helmet interfered with one of its teeth. Neither it nor Jonuta remembered which tooth.

One of the rent-a-guards emerged from the lounge. He waved at a pa.s.sing two-person trike and was in it almost before Kenowa and Jonuta were on their way. The rent-a-guard also knew Sweetface, and he also pretended not to do.

"Want a ride, Jarp?"

Sweetface joined him. Jarp and security guard swung and hurried to circle the block and pick up Jonuta's cab on the way to the shuttle. Woe unto any who more than glanced at Jonuta's vehicle, much less sought to stop or attack it.

Arsane er-Jorvistor emerged from the Wet Sand, hurrying. The second rent-a-guard followed with seeming casualness. Without looking, he noted that Jorvi-stor was heading for the parking area across the street. The other Sek a.s.sumed his client needed no help. That was good, but the rent-a-guard stayed on Arsane anyhow.

"Brilliant, Kenny," Jonuta was grunting between 77.breaths, "Just brilliant." Their weight had shut off the trike's automatic return mechanism. Sekhar was miserly with its yielding up of energy, and its people were just as miserly about its use. Jonuta and Kenowa provided their own.

"I-didn't know it-would close the deal!" she gasped, pedaling with all she had. "It just oc-whew-curred to me that we didn't-need that downer! Da.-amn these d.a.m.ned trikes!"

"Let's a.s.sume it did. Not that I trust Arsane. But I'd rather leave the cargo here than risk hauling it through s.p.a.ce again. This way we leave clean-and I don't have to go back to Qalara just yet."

She remembered how angrily he had left Qalara, after an angry speech and withdrawal of considerable credbacking from a number of Qalaran firms. His anger stemmed from the policers' inability to turn up anything there on the a.s.sa.s.sin who had missed him but succeeded in destroying Arel. Could that slime Corundum have agents even on Qalara?

"Dam' trikes," Kenowa muttered, feeling her leg banged by the pedal when Jonuta braked for the traffic light she hadn't even noticed.

She knew the reason for these miserable excuses for vehicles. That didn't make her like them any better. Or anything else on this Saining downer of a world! The only beasts of burden on Sekhar big enough to ride were too big to bestride, and so were ridden in howdahs. They were also too big to allow inside the city. Bicycles had been tried, but not for long. Too many people keeled over from sunstroke. Their bikes then caused traffic accidents. Cyclists could not be encased against the heat. Tricyclists could, and were safer besides. Running water on Sekhar was almost as scarce as cool air and dark clothing. That made water power extraordinarily expensive. Sekhar seemed to have no oil to speak of, other than vegetable, and what vegetables could be grown under the blue-white sun were needed for food. Years pa.s.sed be- 78.fore Sekhar managed a single orbiting solar collector, and the whole world was in offplanet hock for that. There were far too many other things the Seks needed to do with that energy. More had not been constructed simply because of expense.

Bullsnot, Kenowa thought uncharitably.

Seks were born and raised Spartan, that was it. No one needed to be in a hurry! To have powered vehicles was just to add heat to the air! Besides, it was just . . . sybaritic. Sissy, to these religiously hung-up, over-manly Sek males. (Bullsnot! Pedaling was hard work, even inside a bubble temp-controlled by the same power source that drove the vehicle: human legs. Bullsnot! ) And traffic lights, for s.h.i.tsake! As if cyclists in a city of a whole big hundred-nine thousand couldn't dodge each other on these awful sulphur-yellow streets! No, they were all m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.ts, Kenowa thought. No feelings, these sun-baked people. Fried brains, probably.

(A young woman sat at the Wet Sand bar and ignored male importunities while she tried to be quiet about her weeping. Her name was Verley. The greatest thing that had ever happened to her was gone, way too soon and just as suddenly as it had appeared. All she had was the rest of her life.) Kenowa was too busy and breathless to make her little suggestions until they reached the outs.p.a.ce shuttle area. They did, without untoward incident. Still, a shuttle was just seconds from departure, and she and Jonuta had to run to avoid waiting twenty minutes or worse for the next one. See Kenowa, with her tongue hanging out.

On the way up the chute to the synchronorbiting s.p.a.ce stationIdocks, all she could do was work at regaining her breath. And listen to the tingling in the muscles of her calves! That this fact gave her a flash of that fat-calfed barbarian, Yanya of Aglaya whom Jonuta just couldn't forget, only added to Kenowa's unconditionally negative mental att.i.tude.

79.Beside her, Jonuta was smiling-and calculating, planning. It all looked just wonderful. There had been no incident at all, much less another attempt on his life. Sweetface would be up on the next shuttle and Tweedle-dee was already onboard, with the others. The rent-a-guard company had been paid in advance, by card. Kenowa was the hero of the hour and would soon recover from her present morose petulance. And Arsane had even said he would delight her with a gift or three.

The only problem was that Captain Cautious trusted Arsane er-Jorvistor just about as far as he could throw the man-who outweighed him by a good twenty or more kilos.

5.

AGLAYA (N175-2Gsl3 a,u,p) PROTECTEDI UNDVLPD. XANTHOCHROID (CAUCASOID?) INHABS: LT. IRON AGE. TOP.F. 2I3 LAND. SPARSLY POP: HVY RAIN FORESTS. UNIRELIGIOUS: SUN + PLANETARY EPONYM. THOT TO BE FORM OF GYNECOCRACY.

ONLY KNOWN VALUE: Phrillia (Q.V.).

Standard Universography Edutapes Janja awoke beside a sleeping Corundum and stared up at what appeared to be the pa.r.s.ec abyss of s.p.a.ce. It was not. A small switch beside the bed could project one of two holographic effects over the whole of the ceiling of the captain's cabin, which was one huge mirror. One bathed it in warm pink light and tended to split the images. That was nice for lovemaking, though disconcerting and sometimes distracting, and not so much fun on wakening. The other holoprojec-tion turned the ceiling into that deep, deep hue called Prussian blue. In it, thousands and thousands of twinklepoints represented the over 300,004,000,000 80.81.living stars of this galaxy. (It did not attempt to show the billions of collapsed stars once called Black Holes.) She squeezed her eyes shut. Looking into the deeps of s.p.a.ce was not the best way to awake.

In her was Corundum's seed. It did not matter. To begin with, she had been inoculated. Her body would consider sperm an invader to be destroyed until she chose to receive the counter-shot.

In the second place, Janja had reason to believe that she would not be cross-fertile with them.

They-the Erts-speaking Galactics who had originated on Homeworld that had been Terra that had been Erth or Earth-were about the only race there was. Or seemed to be. The galaxy was presumed to contain over ten billion habitable planets. How many had been scanned, even noticed? As many as a million? Probably not. At least this worlds-teeming galaxy seemed to hold no other s.p.a.cefarers.

They had found the jelly blobs of Shirash. Those highly intelligent creatures compensated for lack of tendrils, tentacles, or even pseudopods by being powerfully telehypnotic and mildly telekinetic. Shirash was dangerous. It was quarantined. An orbiting cybercraft warned ships away from that watery planet of abominations.

They had found Jarpi-and the hermaphroditic Jarps had happily used the visitors, s.e.xually-both s.e.xes. They were angered. Though not at the technological level, Jarpi was not Protected. Slavers took Jarps at will, prevented only by the Jarps themselves. No one gave a d.a.m.n about the Jarps except the Jarps. They couldn't even form human sounds, much less words, but sounded like a bunch of whistling, tootling birds.

Humankind was still not certain whether the Croz-ites of Croz were human or not. None had cross-bred, but no differences had been isolated, either. Study continued.

Since Aglaya was Protected (the raids by slavers 82.were at the slavers' own risk), no one had taken note that the few Aglayans scattered about the s.p.a.ceways had not reproduced. Nor did any of Them know about Aglayan cherming, much less chonceling.

Janja opened her eyes, squeezed them shut. And They thought the lovely blue phrillia was Aglaya's only known value!

None of Them knew that every Aglayan could cherm: know or feel or sense the basic mental att.i.tude or dispositionIdisposal of another. That ability was effective within a radius of one to two meters. It was more effective when the object of cherming was relaxed (as with drugs, which were unknown on Ag-laya but most definitely not among Them). It was even more effective when a rapport existed between chermer and chermed. Groupthinking, or the collective intent or emotion of a group-such as an attacking force- could be chermed within one and a half or so kloms.

If these arrogant, so-superior Thingmakers discovered that ability, Aglaya and Aglayans would become very important very quickly.

Valuable, Janja thought, with the grimness she had learned from Them. Aglayans might not be liked or trusted, but wouldn't we be used!

Janja kept her ability to herself. And waited. She had learned that gaining the ability to choncel would come to her only with a male of Aglaya, not one of Them. There were very few Aglayans on the s.p.a.ce-ways.

Chonceling was beyond cherming. It accounted for female dominion, on Aglaya.

The ability was gained by the deepkiss: the drinking of male seed. Aglaya hedged that act about with taboo and ritual and restricted it to a couple who were life-mated. With that ability a woman could know much more than merely the underlying att.i.tude and intent of another. It was not quite the "mind-reading" that continued to elude Galactics except for occasional genetic accidents called sports.

83.In that case, Aglayans were a race apart.

They were not a part of humankind, though they were human in every way, lacking nothing, and could be Galactics. It was the invisible extra genetic factor that made Janja realize she was of a different race. This she had learned from the edutapes in the main library of Velynda, capital of Franji. She had corroborated the knowledge with another stolen but free Aglayan.

He was Flash, or Whitey (who concealed his Aglayan name as well as his hair, under a dark brown wig), a crewmember on a tramper much like Captain Ota's.

Janja, who had been Janjaheriohir, daughter of Sun-mother and Aglii oi Aglaya, was not displeased to discover that she-was not human. Not inasmuch as They were human and so arrogantly proud of it. As a race, as Thingmakers who preferred drugs to the use of the mind, people who spoke in terms of "conquering" nature and s.p.a.ce, Janja had only contempt for the Galactics. Humans; Them.

She wondered if They, sometime long ago, had made a sort of racial choice. To open the brain to its potential of controlling and healing self and body or-to make Things. To "conquer" their world and turn its flora and chemicals into drugs.

First one makes Things, Janja reflected, and then one uses them and uses them and grows dependent . , . addicted until the Things become more important than oneself. After that one is truly serving them; the Things one created to serve oneself!

She a.s.sumed herself to be of a different race, then, and superior.

They thought just the opposite! That was their error and their-their problem! It made her more dangerous, as she had already learned; more able to cope among Them. She lived now to find and destroy Jonuta of Qalara . . . and to find and deepkiss another Aglayan. If only Whitey had allowed it! No. He was a crewman 84.among Them, striving to pa.s.s among them and be one of Them, and yet he still preserved belief in Sun-mother and the taboos and customs of Aglaya.

Already Janja had learned too much of that. Her mind was a superb absorbing sponge with an ability to a.s.similate and synchretize. Whitey had been on the s.p.a.ceways for years, and Janja was ahead of him in knowledge and even understanding.

The man beside her stirred and a smile touched Janja's lips, which had not smiled for so long. Corundum! A gentleman outlaw! And this courtly gentleman outlaw with his odd pet-word for her had a.s.sured her that his secondary focus in life was the destruction of Jonuta.

Naturally that had prompted Janja to ask, "And the primary?"

"Ah," Corundum had said, "Corundum's primary aim has ever been his own pleasure!"

Happily she had said, "Corundum, my dear, let's pursue both."

For the past month they had focused on the primary, and on Janja's further education. Now it became specialized.

She learned about computers. SIPAc.u.m itself taught her its use and even the rudiments of simplified programming. She learned about Firedancer and ships in general. Daily she had her weapons training. She aimed and "fired" a harmless beam of light at shifting and increasingly smaller targets. She pretended to use the (inoperative) cutter with full instructions as to the deadliness of its laser beam, both to people and to s.p.a.cecraft. She learned to tolerate Corundum's pet, Topaz, and slowly learned fondness for the golden-eyed miniature dragon. Immediately it showed corresponding fondness for her. That was more than instinctive response. Topaz was mildly telepathically sensitive: an empath. Janja dared not let it know they shared that ability; Topaz could also talk, and cherm-ing remained Janja's secret.

85.Corundum awoke with such suddenness and thoroughness that Janja could fancy she heard an audible click. He put a hand over to feel her thigh, high up, and squeezed it lightly. Then he turned onto his side to check in with the con and SIPAc.u.mIJinni.

He was a.s.sured that all systems were P for Perfect. Messages zero. Occurrences zero. Good. Corundum ordered Jinni to check itself for glitches. Despite the heavy shielding around the guts of computers on s.p.a.cecraft, that remained a worse problem in s.p.a.ce than onplanet. Glitches were a consequence of solar flares and seemed unavoidable. At least a genius or three had devised the failsafe whereby a computer could check itself for errors, losses, or damage. (Call it almost-failsafe.) Corundum had Jinni check itself out every "morning." Morning on Firedancer was when Captain Corundum awoke.