-What's' the problem?*' said Barton, and mentally kicked himself for saying it that way.

"Oh, Hishtoo's up on his high horse.** Tarieton sounded weary. "He's just realized we're going to take this game back onto his own home grounds, and he doesn't like the idea." .

Hishtoo suddenly shrilled a rapid burst of lobsterese.

"He says," Limila interpreted, "that we animals had best not dare disturb the homes of the Demu."

**Wen now, is that right?" said Barton. He knew he looked nasty; he knew he sounded nasty. Above an, he knew that he couldn't afford to show it, not before Tarie- ton, of all people. But he couldn't help himself. He walked up to Hishtoo, face to face. "To you I'm an animal?'* he said softly. *To me, you're crab saladi"

Hishtoo cringed and turned away. "I'll be damned,'*

Tarieton said in a bushed voice. 'That hardshell under- stands more English than he lets on." He turned to Bar- ton. **When I said that to him I was twisting his arm and shouting. But you said it just like 'Pass the bread' and it got to him."

"Not quite," said Barton, knowing he shouldn't. "More like 'Pass the crab salad."" Tarieton looked at him, but said nothing more except the usual so-longs. Barton herded Parr and Siewen out to the jeep, Limila following.

He agreed to meet Tarieton in the morning, and drove off.

Lunch at the Barton-Limua residence was on the awk- ward side. Doktor Siewen was being as nonexistent as pos-

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sible. Limila's reluctance to show her face to anyone except Barton was eased somewhat because Parr had al- ready examined it, but her discomfort was apparent, Parr's appetite was scanty for a man of his size; the rea- sons were obvious. Barton ate like a horse and compli- mented Limila on her cooking; it was one of his days to be contrary (though the food was good).

Next stop, he announced, was the dentist. No, come to think of it, first they would drop by and pick up Whosits;

Barton hadn't seen him for weeks and hadn't missed him, but the Freak would also benefit by a set of dentures, so that he wouldn't have to subsist on mushy gloop all his life. So what the hell . . .

The guards at the door of the unit housing Siewen, Whosits and the two Demu accepted Barton's authoriza- tion readily enough. Eeshta was pleased to see Barton; he expressed his own pleasure at seeing her. Wfaosits was something else again. He didn't want to go anywhere. ,, Barton and Parr took him out the hard way but not very;

Whosits was so flabby as to be wholly ineffectual.

The dentist was noticeably jolted by the looks of his patients, but he took Limila's and Siewen's dental-plate impressions with reasonable aplomb. Whosits made a problem of himself; he refused to open his mouth. Dr.

Parr explained the purpose of the project, but Whosits paid no heed. Barton took over then, not gently. Whosits not only opened his mouth but then also kept it closed- on the second try-for the proper length of time to produce a usable impression. Meanwhile Parr was ex- plaining how he was going to help Whosits look present- able once more in human society. He was working with a tough audience.

As soon as the hardened impression was removed, Whosits reared back and spoke words. Actual human words, the first Barton had ever heard from him.

"Nein; neini Ich bin Demul DEMU; Horen Sie?"

Barton shook out his rusty knowledge of German and tried to talk with the creature, but that was all Whosits would say. "Oh, the hell with it," Barton said finally. "If this nut wants to stay a lobster, why argue with him?"

Parr said nothing. He did not object when Barton dumped the Freak back at his own guarded quarters, before the rest of the group went on to Parr's office and improvised operating room.

(Later, through hush-hush channels, Whosits' finger-

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prints turned out to be those of one Emst Heimbach, missing from East Berlin for about five years. Barton sug- gested, "Why dont we dump him back where be belongs?"

but Tarieton said. "Hell, if we did, they'd blame his con- dition on us." The old Cold War had softened into almost- free trade, considerable real cooperation and very little risk of hot war. Barton learned, but somehow the propa- ganda part continued as idiotic and irritating as ever.) . parr summoned a couple of nurses to take charge of Limila and Siewen for the preliminaries; Barton was about to become superfluous. He took Limila in his arms, pushed her hood back enough to kiss her forehead. "I'll -"see you m a few days," he said, **when I get back from Seattle." She nodded but said nothing. "Look now. I'd be around with you if I could; you know that. But Tarie- ton wants those test runs in a hurry and I'm tagged for it You'll be all right; Parr is good. And I'll see you, soon as I can."

"All right. Barton," she said, finally. "I hope then you can like what you see." She turned abruptly and followed a nurse out of the office, not looking back. Siewen and the other nurse trailed after.

Barton looked at Parr. "I know you'll do what you can.*'

"I'll try to do better than that. Barton. You know?

The hardest thing to realize in 'this case-please don't take offense-is that I should be seeing her as a woman to restore. Forgive me, but I've been seeing a something to be turned into a woman."

Barton sighed, not angry. "Yes, Doctor; I know how it must be for you." They shook hands. "However it works out, be kind to her."

Barton went home to be alone with himself and his memories. It wasn't fun. He skipped dinner and got drunk. Not too drunk; he went to bed at a reasonable hour. Alone, and missing Limila more than he would have thought possible.

Knowing that Tarieton, next morning, would be like a cat on a hot stove. Barton got up early. He breakfasted quickly and with his packed suitcase was at the ship a few minutes ahead of the other man. Three of the four student-pilots were there before him; the fourth arrived almost on Tarleton's heels.

Tarieton cut into the exchange of greetings. "All right,

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we're here. Let's get on board and stash our luggage."

They did so quickly, and followed Barton into the con- trol area.

The room normally seated two. Tarieton had had four more seats installed for training purposes. Even though these were small, bucket-type shells, the seating was cramped. But they all wedged in; no one complained.

Well, they'd better not have, with Tarieton on edge as he was.

Barton explained the major controls. "I wont bother running you through the whole switch panel because ours are different, they tell me; our people left out a lot of things on here that we won't really be needing, so as to get into production sooner.

"The principles will be the same. Start out with all the small toggles off and your guidance lever here and go- pedal here, both in neutral; then you apply power with this blue jobbie in the middle." He knew they'd heard the instructions before but it didn't hurt to tell them again, and at the same time reinforce his own knowledge. "All right, here's your outside viewscreen and here's your 'Drive on' switch," pointing them out, throwing them and remembering how in the Demu aircar he'd discovered them in reverse order. What a panic that had been. "Arti- ficial gravity, indoors here, set to hold at one-G. Now we're hot to trot; here goes nothing." And he took the ship up.

He took it straight up at maximum lift, because he wanted them to realize immediately the kind of power they'd be handling. At an altitude of about one thousand kilometers he made the tightest right-angle turn the ship would manage, pointing out the rather incredible G-forces that, because'of the artificial gravity field, they were not feeling. Then he slowed to roughly orbital-drift speed, put the major controls to neutral, and clambered out of the pilot's seat.

"OK, I want each of you to play around with this can for a while, out here where it's safe. You first, Kranz."

Kranz climbed gingerly into Barton's pilot chair; Barton squeezed into the empty one. "For now," Barton con- tinued, "we work only with the two drive-control levers;

leave all the little toggles alone unless I tell you different.

And don't use more than half power. Just play loose in this general volume of space. OK?"

Each man had about a half-hour of practice, mostly

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experimenting on his own with only an occasional sug- gestion from Barton. Kranz started cautiously and grad- ually built up his confidence. Slobodna, the next man, did the opposite, applying all his allowed half power im- mediately in violent maneuvers, losing orientation and scaring himself. But then, after a few minutes of more cautiously feeling out the controls, he too achieved a de- gree of mastery over them. The other two, Jones and Dupree, began with medium-power settings and modest acrobatics; each progressed to as proficient a handling of the craft as could be expected in so short a time. Barton was satisfied with the lot of them,

"OK, Dupree; that's fine," he said. "I might as well get back in the saddle now, and take us down. My gut says it must be nearly time for lunch."

"Just a minute." It was Tarleton.

"What's the problem? Aren't you hungry yet?"