"Morning, Eeshta. You get enough sleep? Breakfast there in the cooker, still hot." He set up more toast.

"Thank you-I am rested, as is Helaise. Is there enough food for us both?"

There was. Eeshta dished up two plates and put them on a tray. Barton distributed the toast when it appeared, and added two cups of coffee. "Can I deliver this, or would Helaise rather be left alone?"

"She would see you, I think. She asked my help in com- posing her appearance." So he poured one more cup of coffee and they set out. Barton moving carefully to avoid spilling anything.

In Three, Helaise Renzel lay gracefully arranged, propped by pillows, hair shining-smooth, smile relaxed. A slight puffiness around the eyes gave the only sign of inner disquiet Barton greeted her. She seemed to want to apol-

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ogize for something, but he said, "Eat first; talk later."

With her left hand, she managed the fork well enough.

When the food was done, and Eeshta had gone for more coffee. Barton said, "All right. What's on your mind?"

The gist of it was that Helaise had done everything wrong, that the whole mess was her fault and no one else's. Listening, Barton shook his head, and waited his chance to repiy. When it came, he pointed out that it took everybody in a situation, to make it happen, "You.

me, Terike, the woman he tried to rape, the two Tilarans who weren't paying enough attention to ship's security- Hishtoo, even Eeshta. You realize that back in 1982 if I'd been someplace else instead of where the Demu grabbed me from, most likely none of us would be here!"

He shook his head. "Assigning blame, Helaise, is the world's most futile pastime. So drop it."

Mouth working, fingers twisting in her hair, she nodded.

"Yes-it's like bragging, isn't it? 7 did it.' All right; I won't, again."

Eeshta returned with the coffee, explaining that she'd had to wait while a new batch was made. "Fresh is better, anyway," Barton said. "Thanks." But he'd had enough, really, and drank only about half the cup before be rose to leave.

As he stood, Helaise said, "Did you mean it, that all of us who knew Terike will say the good things about him, together?" He nodded, and she said, "I'm glad; he should have that. There was a great deal wrong about him, but not everything."

Barton shook his head. "There's a great deal wrong about most of us. Some have better luck coping with it, is all." He turned to Eeshta. "Could you come with me a little while?" He wasn't looking forward to his talk with the small Demu, but might as well get it over with.

Your place or mine, he thought, then led Eeshta to Cabin Two. As they entered, Limila*s absence hit him afresh. He motioned Eeshta to sit, and sat also.

"Eeshta, I have to tell you something-something bad."

The small person sat straight, primly. "Hishtoo is dead?"

"No-no-but I told you, remember, that I don't want to kill him. That is stili true. But I said I had no reason to do so-and that is no longer true."

"What has changed. Barton?"

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He told her of the Tilaran prisoners, and how he thought Hishtoo would use them, and why. And what he, Barton, would have to do about it. Eeshta made no pro- tests, indulged no hysterics; her questions were simple and logical. There was something, Barton thought, to be said for the Demu mind-it had definite possibilities.

'The trouble is," he concluded, "that I can't give'him what he wants. You know that."

"Yes, Barton." Eeshta paused. "I have thought of when we met, and you used me to take the ship. Now that I know more of you, I think you won, over Hishtoo, with a lie. For I do not think you would have killed me-even then, and desperate as you were."

Barton's breath left him with a great shudder. "Yes, Eeshta. You're right."

"But why did you not tell me this before?"

"I didn't think you'd believe me. I thought it would sound like a cop-out."

"I see. Barton, you have the pride of a Demu. That is both good and bad."

"Yeh. Thanks ... I think. But the problem is, Hishtoo won't be bluffing. So no matter what I said before, Eeshta, right now I don't see any way out of killing the lot of them."

"Barton, why do you tell me this?"

"Because if we're going to work together, when we meet your people, we have to be honest with each other.

I don't think you ever lie to me, and I mustn't lie to you.

Understand?"

"Yes. 1 believe I do. And it is true, I do not lie. Barton, I hope you need not kill my egg-parent-and I believe ^our saying, that you have no wish to kill. But as things are, if you must, then you must. And I have no choice but to accept that need."

Barton gave a relieved sigh. "You're all right, you know that?"

"Yes, I am in good health, and not overly troubled.

Shall I now see to Helaise?"

"Yes. Good idea." Eeshta left him shaking his head.

Would he ever stop underestimating that young, alien mind?

In the control room, where Myra Hake had the duty, again Barton had to talk through all that had happened, and what to expect next. He was getting tired of the re-

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C-.

plays, but could find no way to skip them. Eventually he got the answer he was after, which was that Myra and Cheng would be willing to go with the strike force.

The rehash stirred his own resentments, though, and he aired them: not only had ap Fenn endangered the alli- ance with the Tilari, he had also enabled Hishtoo's escape, with a laser, and blowing any possible advantage of sur- prise. "If he were here alive, right now, I'd be hard put to keep from breaking his stupid neck for him!"

Myra nodded. "I can see that. But was it all his fault?"

A sudden realization obscured her words-the gut- level knowledge that ap Fenn's insult to Limila had been avenged, forever. Somehow, the thought made Barton feel petty; he shook his head, and said, "That goddamned politician, Terike's uncle. Using Agency pressure to pass an unstable man through the screening test. He-"

It still didn't work. "Assigning blame," he'd told Helaise, "is the world's most futile pastime." And what was he doing, now? ^

"Skip it, Myra- We all do what we think we have to, and sometimes we don't know our ass from third base."

Before she could answer, the screen lit. and Tarleton said, "Barton. Join me in the galley and help wake up my brains?"

"Sure." The screen blanked. "See you, Myra."

Tarleton had the map spread, its corners held down by dishes. Down-Arm from Tilara'appeared a new dark neb- ula-a coffee stain. Barton grinned. "Watch it with the stellar geography."

"Oh? Yes-it doesn't wipe off very well. Here. sit down." Facing the map upside down, Barton sat. Watch- ing his boss pick at the remains of his breakfast. Barton decided it must have started out as a good-sized meal.

Tarleton looked up, and said, "Have you thought about what you'll need for the Sisshain mission?"