"I don't know yet. Nothing, maybe. Or if the place is important, try to get there before Hishtoo."

Eeshta shook its head. "How could you? He is so far ahead."

"This ship is faster than the one Hishtoo took. We could do it."

"And kill, then, my egg-parent?"

"I wouldn't think so-no reason to, that I can see. Get

227.

there before him if we can, yes. But killing isn't what we want. As you know. We want to meet your people before they're prepared to fight, and not have to fight them.

But Hishtoo, if he gets there first, could warn them-and then there would be war, and killing.

"So-on this map, can you locate Sisshain?"

Eeshta puzzled over the map, drew a finger across it.

"I think here. Barton. Far from my early home or-Aom where you were, or from the centers of Demu power. But somehow, in our heritage, important. It may be the world of our beginning."

Eeshta's finger jerked back, away from the map. "I should not tell you-or all Demu may curse my eggs!"

Barton sighed. "Eeshta-you have agreed with our purpose-that Demu should not capture other peoples and mutilate them-that such things should be stopped.

But they won't be stopped, unless you help me. Eeshta, where is Sisshain?"

Tentatively, then firmly, Eeshta's finger touched the map. Barton felt relief-he'd thought he had it right the first time, but it never hurt to make sure! "Good. Thank you, Eeshta."

And it was the hole card-the planet the Ormthan had mentioned. For its sun sat in a pocket of a dust cloud, approachable from only one direction.

"More coffee, Eeshta?" Barton was thinking that he hoped the small Demu wouldn't be hurt by whatever happened. Remembering Eeshta's chant, he added a few hopes for Earth's welfare.

"Barton. What do you do now?"

"I don't know yet. We had our plans-I suppose you've heard them; they were no secret. We hoped we could just turn up and show our muscle and say 'let's talk.' But now that Hishtoo has escaped, I'm afraid that won't work.

Probably our best bet is to get to Sisshain ahead of him, if we can,

"There are other problems-ap Fenn is dead, for one thing. And the TUari . . . well, we'll figure that out later."

He stood. "Shall we see how it's going with Helaise?"

In Compartment One the scene looked cozy enough.

A slim, plastic dressing covered the broken arm, but Helaise held her drink-by eye, much milder than the one Barton had given her earlier-in her other hand. Her ^hair was brushed back into relative neatness.

228.

From his big easychair, Tarleton asked, "Is Eeshta all right?"

"She'll do," said Barton. "Here, sit down. Eeshta." He remained standing. "Did you get hold of Slowboat?"

"Yes. He called back."

"What's the scoop there?"

"Everybody's cooled down-apologies and condo- lences all around. I told him to use his own judgment- no need to break up the party until some of the other con- tingents begin to leave-but for all our people to be care- ful with the polites."

"Good enough."

"Yes. Now, how about you. Barton? You have any- thing new?"

"We know where Sisshain is-where Hishtoo's going.

It's the world the Ormthan told of."

Tarleton frowned. " B ut why would he go there?

That's not where the Demu keep most of their muscles.

I'd expect him to hit for Demmon or for one of the guard planets, at least."

"I purely don't know, Tarleton. Any ideas, Eeshta?"

"It may be that Sisshain is the place where decisions are made."

Barton nodded. "That figures. Tarleton!-we have to get there first." Over the big man's protest, he said, "Not the whole fleet, but a strike force."

Tarleton's expression changed. "Of course. How many ships?"

"That's your decision. You're strategy; I'm tactics.

I'd settle for one Earth ship, as long as I'm on it." He reached to the mini-bar and poured himself a slug of his host's bourbon. "Cheers, Tarleton."

He turned to the woman, resting now but still pale.

"You feeling better, Helaise?"

"Lots. Thanks to Max's little needle. And he's leav- ing me some ampoules, for when it starts hurting again."

She sounded a little punchy. Barton thought, but not bad.

Now she frowned. "One thing: What about Terike's body? Do they have cemeteries here? Or cremation, or what? I mean-he wasn't the best man I ever knew, but still he should have some of the good things said over him."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," said Cummings.

"Tilara has different customs. The body was taken to be used in agriculture."

229.

"Oh, no!" Her voice broke in a sob. "How could they?"

Tarieton tried to comfort her, but she cried all the harder.

"Helaise!" said Barton. "Let the body help grow tur- nips, or whatever. You want good things said, we'll say them. Over your memories of the good side of Terrke ap Fenn. That's what's important."

"How can you say that? You hated him!"

"A little, yes. And for cause. Not to want him "oead, though; I don't like that any better than you do. And I stilt have a bone to pick with the Tilari, that they were willing to let him die without trying to help. That's how I feel, Helaise."

Slowly, she nodded. "All right; I guess you mean it."