* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"The what?"

"Prisoners. The staff."

"Maybe Arletty's trying to make a few casheeks on the side by testing it on me," he said. "I suppose he put me on a special project for the mogul but Reshecomp has me listed as an experimental subject. His day of reckoning will come, though, when the subject enters a research report."

Now she smiled. "His day of reckoning? Could be yours. But don't worry. The mogul probably channeled your salary through some dummy organization that gives grants to the department. Perfectly legit."

A breeze ruffled Paula's hair. The door to the next room swung open. Clark could see tall figures around candles in the library.

"I'm not sure--" someone said in Eyimalian.

Someone answered in a mix of slangy Eyimalian and the Intersystems Language they all spoke. Paula sat straighter, listening.

"What's going on?" Clark asked.

"He says: You are never safe. They will not hesitate to use you against someone who loves you. If you are known, you are a target; unknown, you are dispensable."

Someone else spoke. Paula translated, "We perform their worst tyrannies for them. They let in the flood but keep their own feet dry."

More voices joined in. Clark made out fragments. "Must we?...they have begun to change."

"What change? Look at Paffir Haretz--"

"What's that?" Clark asked.

"Planet," Paula said.

The argument was becoming heated. "Listen, my uncle knew a guy who worked on Paffir Haretz, and the people are just stupid."

"They haven't been allowed to learn--"

"We need foreign grain."

"...it all comes back to Dagrov and his thugs. They drain our resources, social, geological and intellectual. They are getting worse, not better. There is only one way to get them out."

"Must we...?"

Sevit's voice broke in. "Certainly we will need to fight. The titanium families bring us the first opportunity in four hundred years to unseat the Dagrov. Yes, let us fight. Surely we can die to free our people."

(return to lab)

Another breeze swung the door shut. The voices in the other room were silent for a moment, then they began to talk about nothing.

Sevit came into Paula's room. The candle cast his shadow up the wall and ceiling. He paused at the door to gaze upon the two of them, evaluating the situation according to his old habit of caution. He extended his palm to Clark, who met it. Looking up at him, Clark felt as though he had spoken and Sevit had replied although neither said anything. He let his arm dangle before him, elbows on his knees.

"Why do you always look at people that way?" Clark asked.

"To see what they are thinking."

Clark tilted his head. "What am I thinking?"

Sevit laughed. "Envy, envy. But you are the lucky one, Clarkwell. You have the undivided attention of our featured graduate. Paula is the first degree-two in the history of the House." He sat, his shadow running back down the wall and disappearing behind him.

Paula blushed. "Only because you went from one to three without stopping."

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CONTINUE.....................

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