In the morning Woudiver did not arrive to hear the statements which Reith had brooded upon a large part of the night. Reith drove himself to work, with the thought of Woudiver pressing on him like the weight of doom.

On this morning Deine Zarre was not on hand either, and the technicians muttered among themselves more freely than they dared in Deine Zarre's presence. Reith presently desisted from his work and made a survey of the project. There were, he thought, good grounds for optimism. The major components were installed; the delicate job of tuning proceeded at a satisfactory rate. At these jobs Reith, though acquainted with Earth space-drive systems, was helpless. He was not even certain that the drives functioned by the same principles.

About noon a line of black clouds broke over the palisades like a scud of surf.

Carina 4269 went wan, faded through tones of brown, and disappeared; moments later rain swept the eerie landscape, blotting Hei from sight, and now plodding through the rain came Deine Zarre, followed by a pair of thin children: a boy of twelve, a girl three or four years older. The three trudged into the shed, where they stood shivering. Deine Zarre seemed drained of energy; the children were numb.

Reith broke up some crates, lit a fire in the middle of the shed. He found some coarse cloth and tore it into towels. "Dry yourselves. Take off your jackets and get warm."

Deine Zarre looked at him uncomprehendingly, then slowly obeyed. The children followed suit. They were evidently brother and sister, quite possibly Deine Zarre's grandchildren. The boy's eyes were blue; those of the girl were a beautiful slate gray.

Reith brought forth hot tea and at last Deine Zarre spoke. "Thank you. We are almost dry." And a moment later: "The children are in my care; they will be with me. If you find the prospect inconvenient, I must give up my employment."

"Of course not," said Reith. "They are welcome here, as long as they understand the need for silence."

"They will say nothing." Deine Zarre looked at the two. "Do you understand?

Whatever you see must not be mentioned elsewhere."

The three were in no mood for conversation. Reith, sensing desolation and misery, lingered. The children watched him warily. "I can't offer you dry clothes," said Reith. "But are you hungry? We have food on hand."

The boy shook his head with dignity; the girl smiled and became suddenly charming. "We have had no breakfast."

Traz, who had been standing to the side, ran to the larder and presently returned with seed-bread and soup. Reith watched gravely. It appeared that Traz's emotions had been affected. The girl was appealing, if somewhat peaked and miserable.

Deine Zarre finally stirred himself. He pulled his steaming garments taut and went to inspect the work done in his absence.

Reith tried to make conversation with the children. "Are you becoming dry?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Define Zarre is your grandfather?"

"Our uncle."

"I see. And now you are to live with him?"

"Yes."

Reith could find nothing more to say. Traz was more direct. "What happened to your father and mother?"

"They were killed, by Fairos; " said the girl softly. The boy blinked.

Anacho said, "You must be from the Eastern Skyrise."

"Yes."

"How did you get from there to here?"

"We walked."

"It is a long way, and dangerous."

"We were lucky." The two stared into the fire. The girl winced, recalling the circumstances of their flight.

Reith went off to find Deine Zarre. "You have new responsibilities."

Deine Zarre darted Reith a sharp look. "That is correct."

"You work here for less than you deserve to be paid, and I want to increase your salary."

Deine Zarre gave a gruff nod. "I can put the money to use."

Reith returned to the floor of the shed, to find Woudiver standing in the doorway, a vast bulbous silhouette. His attitude was one of shocked disapproval.

Today he wore another of his grand outfits: black plush breeches tight around his massive legs, a coat of purple and brown with a dull yellow sash. He marched forward to stare fixedly down at the boy and girl, one to the other. "Who built this fire? What do you do here?"

The girl quavered: "We were wet; the gentleman warmed us before the fire."

"Aha. And who is this gentleman?"

Reith came forward. "I am the gentleman. These are relations of Deine Zarre. I built the fire to dry them."

"What of my property? A single spark and all goes up in flames!"

"In the rain I conceived the danger to be slight."

Woudiver made an easy gesture. "I accept your reassurances. How does all proceed?"

"Well enough," said Reith.

Woudiver reached into his sleeve and brought forth a paper. "I have here an account for the deliveries of last night. The total, you will notice, is extremely low, because I was given an inclusive lot price."

Reith unfolded the paper. Black sprawling characters spelled out: Merchandise, as supplied: Sequins 106,800.

Woudiver was saying: "-appears we are proceeding in really wonderful luck. I hope it will last. Only yesterday the Dirdir trapped two thieves working out of the export warehouse and took them instantly to the Glass Box. So, you see, our present security is fragile."

"Woudiver," said Reith, "this bill is too high. Far too high. Further, I don't intend to pay for extra energy-cans."

"The price, as I noted," said Woudiver, "is an inclusive one. The extra cans come at no extra cost. In a sense, they are free."

"This is not the case, and I refuse to pay five times what is reasonable. In fact, I don't have enough money."

"Then you must get some more," said Woudiver softly.

Reith snorted. "You make the task sound so easy."

"It is for some," said Woudiver airily. "A most remarkable rumor circulates the city. It appears that three men, entering the Carabas, slaughtered an astonishing number of Dirdir, subsequently robbing the bodies. The men are described as a youth, fair, like a Kotan steppe-dweller; a renegade Dirdirman; and a dark quiet man of no distinguishable race. The Dirdir are anxious to hunt down these three. Another rumor purports to concern the same three men. The dark man reportedly states his origin to be a far-off world from which he insists all men derive: in my opinion a blasphemy. What do you think of all this?"

"Interesting," said Reith, trying to conceal his despair.

Woudiver permitted himself to smirk. "We are in a vulnerable position. There is danger to myself, grave danger. Should I expose myself for nothing? I assist you from motives of comradeship and altruism of course, but I must receive my recompense."

"I cannot pay so much," said Reith. "You knew approximately the extent of my capital; now you attempt to extort more."

"Why not?" Woudiver could no longer restrain a grin. "Assume that the rumors I cited are accurate; assume that by some wild accident you and your henchmen were the persons in question: then is it not true that you have shamefully deceived me?"

"Assuming as much-not at all."

"What of the wonderful treasure?"

"It is real. Assist me to the best of your abilities. In one month we can depart Tschai. In another month you will be repaid beyond your dreams."

"Where? How?" Woudiver hitched himself forward; he loomed over Reith and his voice came deep and rich from the far caverns of his chest. "Let me ask outright: did you promulgate a tale that the original home of man is a far world? Or even more to the point: do you believe this hideous fantasy?"

Reith, with spirits plunging even deeper, tried to sidestep the quagmire. "We are dealing with side issues. Our arrangement was clear; the rumors you mention have no relevance."

Woudiver slowly, deliberately, shook his head.