Barton had found the mixture of Tilari, Larka-Te, FilJar, and "Earthani" cuisine to be quite an adventure.

He had been faced with a few items he couldn't stomach, even under the amused gaze of the person whose favorite dish it waa. But for the most part he'd enjoyed the new tastes and textures. And the- "sticky soup"-"It, tastes as good as it looks bad. I'm having seconds." The taste seemed familiar-but he couldn't place it.

"You enjoy?" It was Kimchuk, the Filjar.

"Truly. It is of FilJ?"

"Of Treka, another Filjar world. A ship came this day from Treka. We requested of it the ouilan for you and all here to share. We are pleased it is to Earthani taste."

"Very much so, Kimchuk. Our thanks." The Filjar tipped its head to one side in its characteristic gesture, touched Barton's shoulder, and moved away.

Tarleton, who had been talking with Corval, the Larka-Te, approached. "Barton, the whole thing is run- ning on tracks, for now. Why don't you and I skip the afternoon session and go back to the ship? Vertan and Corval agree we're not needed. And we have a couple of things to talk about."

"Okay with me," said Barton. They made their good- byes.

The Tilaran woman brought the car; the ride to the ship was silent. Walking up the ramp, Tarleton said, "My quarters; okay?"

Alene Grover, who shared those quarters, was present when they entered. Because they had been on different watch' schedules for most of the trip. Barton was not well acquainted with the sturdy, bushy-haired woman. Now, he paid heed to her.

"Hi, Alene."

She smiled, a slow smile that showed only the tips of large, white teeth. "Hello, Barton." She pushed back the heavy, black hair that had fallen forward across one cheek. "Must be a strategy meet, to get you two back here this time of day. Should I leave?"

Barton grinned. "Not on my account. Ask the boss."

He waited while the two embraced, kissed, and disen- gaged.

"No-it's nothing Top Hush," said Tarleton. "Let's sit down. Anybody want a drink?"

Barton sat. "You think I'll need one?" he said. "Well,

210.

that white-green Tilaran wine makes nice sipping, if you have some chilled. But what's the discussion?"

Tarleton brought out a cold bottle and frosted glasses.

"It's not a big thing-merely the party tonight"

"What about it?"

"We're all invited."

"Well, what's wrong with . . . ? Oh, yeh; I see. Who's watching the store, right?"

"Too right. I'm certain we could safely leave the ships unguarded, but still . . . ."

"Yeh." Barton thought. "It's not our way, that's all.

Instinct, or custom-but we 'Earthani' leave somebody in charge. At all times-no exceptions."

He swallowed wine. "Well, hell-can't we just tell 'em that? The Tilari don't strike me as fanatics; I expect they'll put up with our little foibles. If they even, notice- you think they'll take a head count or something?"

"Not really," said Tarleton, "but I wanted your opin- ion. All right-how far do we follow our custom? Every ship?"

Barton shook his head. "Not necessarily. Hell, they lock from inside, and the locks can be put on remote to the squadron command ships. For real security. ;f you like, add a ten-way viewscreen hookup."

"Sounds good. You set it up, will you?"

"Sure. But I'll leave it up to each squadron-Slow- boat and Tammy and Cummings-to decide between one-man watch or one per ship. Okay?"

"Yes, that's probably best. We don't want to discour- age initiative."

Barton scowled. "Well-in one area we do. This ship."

"I..." Tarleton paused. "Spell it out. will you?"

"Well, there's Hishtoo, of course. We can't just leave him locked up, because the hard-shelled morphodite needs a little regular exercise, as well as meals. So some- body has to be here, big enough to handle him if he gets any bright ideas.

"Eeshta certainly doesn't qualify-and even if she did, it would be unfair to strain her loyalties that way, be- tween us and her egg-daddy. So we need one more, here on this ship."

"Any suggestions?" Tarleton topped-up glasses all around; the wine was moving slowly, but obviously with appreciation.

211.

"One guess." Barton's voice came out flat and harsh.

"You think I'm turning ap Fenn loose aground?"

"Aren't you being a little hard on that one? He's been behaving himself."

"You're damned right he has. He knows what hap- pens if he doesn't" Barton grimaced; it still hurt, what the man had said to Limila-and hadn't paid for. He made a gesture, pushing with his hand. "All right, I do have a personal thing there. But that's not why I want him kept aboard. I don't trust the sonofabitch out in company, is all."

"That's good enough," said Tarleton. "Tell him he has the duty tonight."

"No-you tell him. From me, he'd be sure it was per- sonal-from you, maybe he'll take it as just part of the fob."

"As you say. But you set up the rest of it, won't you?"

"Sure-might's well do it right now. See you .. . . "

Tarleton's smile and gesture were vague, as though his thoughts were elsewhere. Alene Grover sat straight, and said, "Barton-we'll see you at the festive brawl to- night?"

"Sure thing." He left-next stop, the control area.

His own thoughts, now, were of Eeshta. It was hard on the kid, being cooped up on the ship so much, getting out only for short, accompanied walks. But there was no help for it....

As it happened, when he entered the control room, Eeshta had 'the comm-watch. "Hi," he said. "Everything okay?"

"It is well. Barton, though today there is little to do."

"We can fix that. How about a squadron-command hookup?" When Eeshta had arranged the connections, he passed along the agreed security instructions and had them read back to him for confirmation. With that task completed and the screen cleared, he had begun to coach Eeshta on putting a call through to Limila-not an easy job through the Earth-Tilaran communications inter- face-when he was interrupted.

"You really are a grudge-holding bastard, aren't you?"

It was Terike ap Fenn. Barton turned and looked at him *-yes, the man was riding an adrenaline high, for sure.