"Yes. I couldn't make that an order-but I didn't figure I'd have to."

"What else?" Barton felt his guts grinding into action gear. By God, finally it begins!

"Your Demu disguises-no problem. Vertan says they have a lightweight variable-stiffness plastic that's perfect for the job. Eeshta models for them this afternoon; *she'll only be needed for an hour or less. You'll have the stuff in time."

"Good. I'll tell Eeshta."

"I already have." Barton blinked. "We've updated the fleet schedule," Tarieton continued. "Scalsa's already feeding route-and-timing data to the Tilarans and our own squadron commanders."

"I won't even see Vito until the strike force leaves,"

Liese said, mock-pouting, "unless I disguise myself as a computer tape." Considering her rounded little form, Barton suppressed the obvious comment,

Instead he asked, "When's the new liftoff?"

"It's a staggered operation. One of Slowboat's ships left today for Larka, and one of Tammy's for Filj, to set it up. Our contingent here leaves ten days after you do."

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Barton shook his head. "How the hell do you figure on making rendezvous if Scalsa's still working out the

timing?"

"He's got enough of it. We moved the meeting spot up closer. Where's the map?-oh well, it's just up-Arm from the coffee stain.

"The ships that left today have that data-the place, timing, and approach velocities. On rendezvous-which will be a little strung out, I grant you-we can distribute the rest of the trip schedule that he's working on now."

"Yeh," Barton said, "it could work. What's your esti- mated attendance?"

"You mean, how many make the deadline? Better than eighty percent, we think."

"Murphy's Law says different."

"I allowed for that. The initial estimates were more optimistic, by quite a lot. I took a fudge factor, then dou- bled it."

Barton grinned. "In that case, I buy it. Your guessti- mates were generally good when we were putting our own fleet together. It's just our friends-and-neighbors that had me worried."

Tarleton looked at him, hard. "Are you still carrying a chip-about ap Fenn, or anything?"

Barton shook his head. "No-I don't think' so. It's just that-that incident showed me, we don't know as much about these people as we might think."

"I think we know enough. If you don't agree, maybe we'd better ask some questions fast. Any ideas? Or just general misgivings?"

Barton thought about it. "One idea, maybe. Have we ever clarified with everybody what happens after we win?

// we win?"

"But that's obvious, isn't it?" said Liese Anajek. "The Demu stop raiding."

"Right-as far as it goes," said Barton. "But after ap Fenn, it struck me-maybe our friends have some .further ideas. Like revenge. Hell-before I got to know Eeshta, I used to think that way myself. And these people have been victimized for centuries, not just a few years. It might be they won't be satisfied to let it go at a cease-fire."

Tarieton's face showed concern. "I hadn't thought of that-but I will. Barton, tomorrow morning I'll put Vertan on the griddle-in a subtle way, of course-and

244.

find out what his thinking is, and that of the Filjar and Larka-Te, about what happens afterward."

Barton laughed.

"What's so tunny?" said Liese Anajek.

"You have to see it from where I sit. Here we are, about to tackle the invincible Demu-and worrying about their welfare!"

Leaving the galley for the control room, Barton tried again to reach Limila. He encountered, via screen, the same taciturn Tilaran woman. Limila was there, yes. No, she was not available to come to the screen. No, nothing was wrong. Yes, Barton could visit her. Yes, it would be permitted that they dine together. Yes. Limila would be informed.

Barton thanked the woman, thanked Myra for setting up the call, asked her to promote a groundcar for him, and !eft for'Compartment Two to bathe and change. On his way, he stuck his head into the galley.

"Dining out tonight, Tarleton," hth.said. "Back some- time this evening."

"Oh? Anyone I know?"

"Yeh. Limila."

"Oh-fine-give her our best, won't you?"

"Sure thing." And he was off. Barton was-to get all duded up to go see his best girl. Four days can be a long time.

He drew the same driver; she understood quickly where he wanted to go. At destination, unsure of reaching her duty station via the Tilaran communication system, he asfced that she return in approximately two hours.

He entered the building and found the first room empty, so he followed the corridor to its fourth door and knocked.

Limila's voice answered, "Be of welcome." He opened the door.

"Barton! It has been so long." Sitting in bed, propped up with pillows, she held out her arms. He didn't keep her waiting.

But, "Careful," she said, as he started to tighten his embrace. "Under the robe, I am connected to things. With tubes, pipes." She smiled then, and held the smile until he noticed that her teeth were now smaller, and more numerous.

245.

"Pete's sakes! They've grown Tilaran teeth for you al- ready?"

"Oh, no-these, too, are manufactured. But the part against the gum is made soft, so that I may wear them even while the new teeth grow. Except for a short time, perhaps, I shall not have to eat glop food again."

"And what else-?"

She waved him to silence, and to a chair beside the bed.

"No, Barton-tell me first of your progress. When does the fleet depart? Do all the problems find solutions?

"And you. Barton-in my absence, have you moped, or sensibly taken consolation with the little livaji?"

Stunned, Barton said, "Has no one told you anything?"

"Told me what. Barton?" The smile was gone. "No, nothing. Tell me now."