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They watched a few seconds of the feature about Maxwell Enterprises, the surface and space construction company founded by Paula's grandfather, where Marlow had begun his diplomatic career by settling worker-management disputes. People wandered through the room, tuning in and out as they passed, and made contemptuous comments. When the report came to the present generation and clips of Paula from Eyimalian gossip waves, Clark took pity on her and shut the thing off.

"So you're the one who started the Outlander fad," someone teased Paula.

She ignored the taunt. It was echoed next by a serious young man named Vyera, who had been trying to rig the interactive vote with a pulse amplifier but succeeded only in giving himself a few jolts. "I think the Outlander fad is an insult to Outlanders," he said. "I think it's really fitting that it centers around Paula, because she's not an Outlander at all."

"Well, I tried," Paula was saying.

"Who do they think they are," Clark fumed. "Boyfriend. It figures." He picked up his jacket. "I'm going down there. Let's see what they do with it then. Where's my hat?"

"I have it," Paula answered. "If you go in there now and start talking about Sevit, they'll think you're a nut. They'll think you saw the news in a bar someplace and throw you out."

"Well, come with me, then. You can't sit there while they laugh at you. This is serious business. They can't make a big joke out of it. Colorful. Nobody's going to call me colorful!"

"Nobody's going to call you anything. The news people don't live there, you know."

"We can call them again."

"What for? If they didn't listen to me, they won't listen to you. Do you look more credible than me? Is that it--I don't look like I know what I'm talking about, and you look like you do?"

Clark sat down. He was helpless.

"I know somebody in the Justice ministry," Vyera said.

"What's he good for?" Paula asked, not very hopefully.

"I helped repanel his house. He might give us a few hints."

"Free, or did he pay you?"

"He paid. But we're friends. I can ask him something like--"

"Sevit's location," Efirr suggested.

"No, don't ask that. Ask what family kidnapped him," Paula said.

"He's not kidnapped, he's arrested," Clark said.

"Well, what family put them up to it," she amended.

"Why not ask him everything?" Clark asked. "If he doesn't want to tell you, he won't."

"But he might lie," Paula said.

"Oh." These discussions made Clark feel as though he were observing an alien system. Everyone knew people, everyone traded favors beginning with small things like an occasional drink or a few grains of napit, and progressing slowly as the traders gained a measure of one another's power to jobs, homes, romantic partners and information. What bothered Clark was not the cold-bloodedness of these relationships but their sincerity. When one of the tit-for-tat friendships broke down, there was real loneliness. We grasp at straws, he thought.

A few days later, Paula asked the serious man about his friend in the Ministry of Justice.

"He told me not to come back."

"Not to come back?" Clark echoed.

"That's right," Vyera said. He was picking apart the cushion on which he sat.

"Just, don't come back?" Paula persued. "Did he answer the question?"

"Yes, he told me. The Viyato family is behind it."

Efirr, who was sitting on the floor behind Paula, opened his eyes. "Possibly."

Vyera sighed. "Look. They hate the Uchide family, right? They always want to get in good with the Dagrovs, right? Who else would it be? We could have figured that out by ourselves, for whatever good it does us. And I'd still have my friend."

"Wasn't there a Viyato woman at the party?" Clark put in.

Paula shook her head. "Not likely."

"You got into an argument with her," Clark insisted.

"Oh, her. She's not really a Viyato. Her cousin is married into one of their allied families."

"She's interclan, though," Vyera said.

Efirr sat up. "Your clan prejudices are stupid. Shut your mouth."

"Who are the Viyato, anyway?" Clark asked.

"They're a church family. The Eyimalian state church, Pravelany. They set up missions," Paula told him. "I think Paffir Haretz is their base of operations, isn't it, Efirr?"

Efirr shrugged.

"You see, when the Uchide lost their church offices about six hundred years ago, the Viyato got them. The Uchide were supposed to control the missions in the Outland, but the Viyato took them away. The Viyato used the missions as garrisons to oppress the Outlanders. It was just after the Rediscovery. The Outlanders were resettled there from some other planet that had just been rediscovered. There was some disaster on the other planet, wars or something. They didn't have any clans or leaders or anything--they still don't. They raise goats. The land they live on is really barren. Just scrub. The Viyato really betrayed them."

Efirr and Vyera were still glaring at one another.

"Are there Viyatos here on Reshebora?" Clark asked.

"They're religious types. They have their own house here, Pravelany House. You've probably seen it. It's near where you live."

He hadn't, and that ended the conversation. Paula told him where Pravelany House was, and a few days later he wandered past on his way to the sub, half intending to introduce himself there and see whether he could attract some new recruits to Sevit's cause. He was surprised to see Efirr Nije on the front porch, but relieved that someone had already made friends there so he wouldn't have to do it. The reporter waved cheerfully at him as though pleased to see another of his contacts. Clark wondered how many people he knew.

"What kind of article is Efirr working on?" he asked Paula when they met at the Social Sciences eatery. "He keeps asking me questions. Him and Arletty and their chronic toxicity."

Paula stared at the table. "Do you think there's something fishy going on?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Like somebody wanting to use the drug for a nefarious purpose."

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

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