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" The hindbrain knows nothing of spin gravity," he remembered Craig Tau saying dryly.

It was clever, though, Dane thought, how the design of the habitat fit the nature of the two races who inhabited it. The inner surface was at 1.6 gee, giving the Shver not only the acceleration they’d evolved in but also the lion’s share of the living space—just as that expansive race preferred. The Kanddoyds, on the other hand, lived high up in the immense tube-shaped towers that transfixed the cylinder from side to side, giving them the lower gravity and combination of enclosure and exposure that they preferred. They did not mind the imbalance in territory, for their long, losing battle on a dying planet had bred them to enjoy close quarters.

In fact, the more he looked, the more he was impressed by Kanddoyd engineering, despite his discomfort. The huge cylindrical towers would

have rendered many acres dark and undesirable on a planet, but here, since they passed through the Spin Axis, they cast no shadows. And elevators in them gave rapid transit from one side of the habitat to another— as long as you didn’t mind the change in gees, and the flip-over at the center, where gravity was zero.

His musings were interrupted by the cheery clackings and whirrings of welcome from a Kanddoyd who bustled forward out of a cleverly concealed door. She was painted all over in curlicues of pleasing shades of purple. Jewels winked on her carapace as she made the complicated gesture that was the equivalent of a human bow. She said in a thin, reedy voice, "Welcome to the Bright Arrangement of Herbaceous Delights, O Gentle Trader. Locutor Danakak wishes no greater pleasure this day than to have the honor of assisting you in your important affairs."

Dane said, "I have come to register a salvage find."

"Ah!" the locutor said. "May I congratulate you upon your advantageous discovery—but at the same time we salute the misfortune of the unknowns whose craft has fallen, through the exigencies of fate, to your benefit." She clacked her mandibles rapidly, and rubbed together the complicated ankle armor that reminded Dane a little of ancient pictures of spurs. A deep droning sound rose, fell away. He identified both sounds—Grief for the Honorably Fallen and Acknowledgment of the Ephemeral Nature of Material Ownership—and hastened to produce from his belt recorder the corroborative sounds.

"Thank you," he said, and pressed another code on his recorder as he said, "If you would honor me with the directions to the registry office of Prime Facilitator Koytatik, we can both carry on our tasks." Underscoring his words were the musical chirps of Friendly and Honest Intent.

"Well, then," said the locutor. She made a series of rapid noises, the only one he recognized being Curiosity Appropriate to the Circumstances. "Your respected employer must rejoice in a worker so ready to execute her will in a timely manner! Permit me to introduce to your notice the humble Augmentor Laktic, whose greatest pleasure in life is the assistance of our Terran visitors in the expeditious discharge of their important affairs!"

Danakak led Thorson along a roundabout route past terraced layers of fragrant herbs. He curbed his impatience, knowing that this was intended as a compliment. To conduct someone the shortest way was not only to

hint that the person had no taste for beauty, but to indicate that one wished to spend as little time as possible in his company. People came and went along the winding paths, past offices whose exteriors were painted with geometric designs or decorated with ceramic mosaics. Busy Kanddoyds scurried in between all the other sentients, moving with the startling swiftness Dane had hitherto associated only with Rigelians.

Under a flowering vine-covered archway they encountered a waiting Kanddoyd, and after a mutual exchange of compliments accompanied by rhythmic noises indicating good intentions, Dane found himself handed off to Augmentor Laktic. He was a young male, painted over with geometric shapes in metallic colors.

He offered, at great length, to assist Dane in finding the appropriate office for the initiation of his business, at which time Dane pulled out the spool that Flindyk had given Captain Jellico and a printout version of the data, and said, "I’ve already gotten the proper forms. What I need to do is find the office where I can register this information. If you can take me there, I’d appreciate it, Augmentor Laktic."

The Kanddoyd looked at the spool, glanced at the printout, and clacked in Surprise Tempered with Respect. "I contemplate with admiration the rapidity of Terrans in their business enterprise," he said, making a series of clicks and tweets that Dane sensed were interrogative.

Dane’s time as cargo master apprentice had provided enough experience for him to instinctively endeavor not to give any hint of the time and money constraints forcing the Queen's crew to act quickly. Though the business he had here was only a matter of form, he didn’t know how much talk passed between the registry workers and those who dealt with Traders. It would be more difficult for Van Ryke if whoever he was working with found out about their desperate need.

So he said, "Terrans usually act quickly to execute business so they can get to their pleasures the more quickly. Our crew wants to have plenty of time to explore all the delights Exchange has to offer." And he pressed his belt in the code that produced the sounds indicating Fervent Anticipation.

The Kanddoyd laughed, a sound like a violin cadenza. "Ah! Of course! Then clearly it behooves me to bustle us along, the quicker to enable the Gentle Terrans to consort in the pleasure decks with other convivial beings. Since you appear to have all the correct forms, and filled out—as

far as this humble augmentor is able to infer—correctly as well, I suggest we proceed directly to the august precincts of Registry and Claims."

Thorson tried to keep his face impassive, but inside he felt a spurt of joy. So he was going to be successful!

They proceeded up through levels and layers, all flower-bordered, with occasional views out into the habitat, to a door inlaid with a fabulous mosaic pattern indicating the birth of a star. Through the door, and into pleasant scents of fresh flowers. Kanddoyd music played softly from somewhere; not melodic, but the complicated rhythms were pleasing to the Terran ear.

They had to go through two or three levels of functionaries, each of whose jobs apparently existed to prevent the applicant the disappointment of discovering that his forms were incorrect. After the customary exchanges of compliments, Laktic proffered the spool, with its unmistakable sigil of Trade Administration, and the helpers all bowed them on their way.

Laktic seemed as pleased as Dane was, if it was possible to ascribe human emotions to a nonhuman. As they approached what appeared to be the last stop, Dane wondered if augmentors got paid for each successful piece of business they helped to resolve. If so, he had to admire all the more the indefatigable good manners that had detained them along the way; on Terra, though no one liked standing in line, Dane suspected twenty people could have gotten their papers filed in the time it was taking him just to find the correct person to submit his to.

But at last Laktic brought him to a low table where an older Kanddoyd waited, her carapace jeweled in shades of gold to match her eyes. This was Prime Facilitator Koytatik, Dane discovered, after a truly memorable exchange of flowery politeness.