"Yes." Liu Han thought about doctrine. Nieh often seemed to know what to do without having to consider first. The thing he called doctrine told him what he needed, almost as if it let him toss the coins for the I Ching I Ching inside his own head. That made it a valuable tool. But he also sometimes seemed unable to think outside the framework his doctrine gave him, as if it were not tool but master. The Communists in the scaly devils' prison camp had acted the same way. She'd heard Christian missionaries gabble about a Truth they claimed to have. The Communists thought they owned truth, too. It sometimes made them uncomfortable allies, even if she could never have struck the little devils such a blow without them. inside his own head. That made it a valuable tool. But he also sometimes seemed unable to think outside the framework his doctrine gave him, as if it were not tool but master. The Communists in the scaly devils' prison camp had acted the same way. She'd heard Christian missionaries gabble about a Truth they claimed to have. The Communists thought they owned truth, too. It sometimes made them uncomfortable allies, even if she could never have struck the little devils such a blow without them.

Nieh Ho-T'ing was casually tapping the palm of his hand against a trouser leg. His mouth shaped silent words: eight, seven, six... eight, seven, six...

As he said the word five five, a sharp, deep bang! bang! came from inside the walls of the Forbidden City. "Early," Nieh said, "but not so bad." The grin he was wearing belied even the partial criticism. came from inside the walls of the Forbidden City. "Early," Nieh said, "but not so bad." The grin he was wearing belied even the partial criticism.

He'd hardly finished the sentence when another bang! bang! went off, and then another. Liu Han felt as if she were drunk on went off, and then another. Liu Han felt as if she were drunk on samshu, samshu, though she'd had nothing stronger than tea. "We give the Emperor a happy birthday," she said, and added the emphatic cough for good measure. though she'd had nothing stronger than tea. "We give the Emperor a happy birthday," she said, and added the emphatic cough for good measure.

Two more bombs went off among the scaly devils, then one, then silence. Nieh Ho-T'ing frowned. "We had eight arranged for in all here in Peking," he said. "Perhaps two timers failed, or perhaps they ran late and the little devils found them before they could blow up."

That made Liu Han remember the bombs had not got in among the little scaly devils by themselves. The Communists had promised her they'd care for the families of the beast-show men killed in the explosions, and she believed them; they had a good reputation in such things. But money did not pay for the anguish the wives and children of those men would know. She knew how hard losing a family was. It had happened to her twice now.

Had she not had her idea, those beast-show men would still be living, working at their trade. She hung her head. Hurting the little scaly devils might justify what she'd done, but could not make her proud of it.

The little devils' hissing alarms started going off. Gunfire came from inside the Forbidden City. That wasn't the raiders. That was the little scaly devils, shooting either at innocent people (there were waiters and other servants who'd also still be alive and well if she hadn't had her idea; she remembered them, too) or at one another.

Suddenly Liu Han and Nieh Ho-T'ing stood almost alone, not far from the walls of the Forbidden City. People in Peking had seen a lot of war. They knew that, when explosions went off anyplace nearby, going elsewhere was one of the best ideas you could have. She started drifting away with the crowd, and tugged at Nieh's sleeve when he didn't move fast enough to suit her.

"You're right," he said sheepishly, once she'd finally got his attention. They'd just ducked back into a hutung hutung out of sight of the wall when a little scaly devil up there started shooting with his automatic rifle. A moment later, others up and down the wall poured fire at the humans out and about in the night. What had been a withdrawal became a stampede, some people screaming in panic, others because they were hit. out of sight of the wall when a little scaly devil up there started shooting with his automatic rifle. A moment later, others up and down the wall poured fire at the humans out and about in the night. What had been a withdrawal became a stampede, some people screaming in panic, others because they were hit.

"Hurry!" Liu Han cried. "We have to get away. If they send their males out of the Forbidden City, they'll slaughter everyone they can find." Nieh hurried but, to her surprise, wore a big, fierce grin on his usually solemn face. "What's funny?" Liu Han demanded indignantly. "They're killing us."

"That is what's funny," he answered, which made no sense to her till he explained: "They play into our hands. If they kill people who had nothing to do with setting off the bombs among them, they do nothing to help themselves and only make people hate them. Even some of their lackeys will think twice about backing them now, and may come over to us or give us useful information. The scaly devils would have been wiser to do nothing till they found out who had bombed them, then to strike hard at us. That way, they could have claimed they were punishing the guilty. Do you understand?"

He'd taken that tone-almost as if he were a village schoolmaster-with her before when he was instructing her in matters of doctrine. She thought as she fled. Nieh looked at the world cold-bloodedly, more so than anyone else she'd ever known. But he was a war leader. Such men could not afford to be anything but cold-blooded.

She said, "We'll have to stay in the shadows for a while, till the little devils stop hounding us."

Nieh Ho-T'ing shook his head. "No. Now we hit them harder than ever, hara.s.s them in every way we can, so we keep them too busy to launch a proper campaign against us. If we can keep them off balance, they will be foolish."

Liu Han thought about that as they trotted along through the hutungs. hutungs. They went arm in arm to keep from being swept apart by the crowds surging away from the Forbidden City. She decided it made sense. If you were in a fight with someone, you didn't hit him once and then stand back to see what he'd do next. You hit him again and again, as often as you could, to make sure he gave up or at least didn't have the chance to hit you back. They went arm in arm to keep from being swept apart by the crowds surging away from the Forbidden City. She decided it made sense. If you were in a fight with someone, you didn't hit him once and then stand back to see what he'd do next. You hit him again and again, as often as you could, to make sure he gave up or at least didn't have the chance to hit you back.

The landlord of their roominghouse screamed at them to close the door and stop letting out the heat. "What's all the commotion outside?" he added.

"I don't know," Nieh and Liu Han said together, and then laughed. She'd picked up a good deal of doctrine listening to him. If she showed undue knowledge, the landlord might wonder how she came by it.

Hsia Shou-Tao sat at a table in the eating room. With him was a pretty young woman in a brocaded silk dress with so many slits in it that Liu Han wondered how she kept from freezing to death. A jar of samshu samshu sat between them. By the foolish expression on Hsia's face, it was not the first one that had been there. sat between them. By the foolish expression on Hsia's face, it was not the first one that had been there.

"Is all well?" he called to Nieh Ho-T'ing.

"I think so," Nieh answered, with a pointed glance toward Hsia's companion. She glared at him like a cat with ruffled fur. If she wasn't a security risk, Liu Han had never seen one. Could Hsia keep his mouth shut after he took her upstairs to see her body? Liu Han hoped so, but hope wasn't enough in a game of this importance.

"Join us?" Hsia Shou-Tao asked.

"No, thank you," Nieh Ho-T'ing answered, rather coldly. The pretty girl muttered something through her painted lips; Liu Han had no doubt it wasn't a compliment. She was pleased at Nieh's answer. She didn't want to sit at the same table with Hsia, even if he had another woman to distract him from her.

She and Nieh Ho-T'ing went to the stairway together. She saw Hsia smirking at the two of them, which only made her more angry with him. The stairwell was cold and dark. She stumbled. Nieh caught her elbow before she could fall. "Thank you," she said.

"My pleasure," he answered, and then laughed at himself. "I sound like a perfect member of the bourgeoisie, don't I? But it is is my pleasure. This was your idea, Comrade. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself just as it begins to unfold. You deserve the credit." my pleasure. This was your idea, Comrade. I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself just as it begins to unfold. You deserve the credit."

"Thank you," she said again. Her room was a couple of floors higher than Nieh's, but she didn't mind when he walked up past his floor with her. She wondered why she didn't. Maybe she'd decided to pay Hsia Shou-Tao back for that smirk, maybe she felt filled with the triumph of finally paying back the scaly devils for all they'd done to her. Her mouth twisted. Maybe, after so long, she just wanted a man. Her hand was all right in its way-it knew exactly what she liked-but it couldn't hold her and hug her afterwards. Of course, not all men did that, either, but the hope was always there.

She'd told Nieh she didn't want to lie with him. That hadn't been long ago, either. Neither of them mentioned it now. Liu Han opened the door to her room. A lamp still flickered in there. She used the flame to light the little brazier that gave the place such heat as it had-not much.

Even after she'd shut the door behind them, Nieh Ho-T'ing still hesitated. "It's all right," she said. "It's better than all right, in fact."

That made him smile. He didn't smile often. When he did, his whole face changed. It wasn't hard and watchful-committed-any more. Not only did he seem happy, he seemed surprised at being happy, as if he wasn't sure how he was supposed to react.

"No k'ang k'ang to lie on up here," Liu Han said sadly. "Even with blankets"-she pointed to the mound under which she burrowed-"it won't be warm." to lie on up here," Liu Han said sadly. "Even with blankets"-she pointed to the mound under which she burrowed-"it won't be warm."

"We'll have to make it warm, then," he said, and smiled that uncertain smile once more. It grew broader when she smiled back at him. He glanced toward the little bra.s.s lamp. "Shall I blow that out?"

"I don't think it matters," she answered. "We're going to be covered up anyhow."

"True." But Nieh did blow out the lamp, plunging the room into blackness. Liu Han got out of her layers of clothes as fast as she could and dove beneath the covers. Nieh almost stepped on the bedding-and her-when he walked over in the dark after undressing himself.

She shivered when he ran his hands up and down her body, partly from excitement and partly because they were cold. But he was warm elsewhere; his erection rubbed against her thigh. When she took him in her hand for a moment, he shivered, too, probably for both the reasons she had.

He kissed her. She stroked his cheek. It was almost as smooth as her own, not furry with beard or rough with the nubs of sc.r.a.ped-off whisker as Bobby Fiore's had been. Nieh's chest was smooth and hairless, too, with nothing like the black jungle the American had had growing there. When she'd first been forced to couple with Bobby Fiore, she'd thought that mat of hair disgusting. Then she'd got used to it. Now smoothness felt strange.

His mouth was warm, too. It came down on her left breast. His tongue teased her nipple. She sighed and rested a hand on the back of his head. But although the caresses felt good, they also reminded her of the baby-even if it was only a daughter-who should have been nursing there.

His mouth moved to her other breast. His hand took its place, squeezing her hard enough to be pleasurable and not quite enough to hurt. She sighed again. His other hand was busy between her legs, not yet stroking her most secret places but teasing all around them till she-almost-forgot how cold the room was. He understood patience in a way she'd had to teach to Bobby Fiore.

After a while, he grew too patient to suit her. She closed her fingers around him, gently tugging back his foreskin. He gasped and scrambled onto her. She spread her legs and arched her back to make his entry easy.

The darkness was so complete, she could not see his face above hers. It didn't matter. She knew that, when their lips weren't joined, it had to bear the same intent, inward, searching expression as her own. His hips bucked steadily, driving him in and out of her.

Her breath came in short gasps, as if she'd run a long way. Nieh grunted and shuddered, but kept moving inside her until, a moment later, she also quivered in release. Then, still thoughtful, he rolled off beside her so his weight, which suddenly seemed much heavier, wouldn't flatten her.

He touched her cheek. "You are everything I thought you'd be, and more besides," he said.

The words warmed her and left her wary at the same time. "I am not going to be your toy or your-what do you say?-your lackey, that's it, because of what we just did," she said. Her voice came out sharper than she'd intended, but that was all right, too. He needed to know he couldn't take advantage of her, in bed or out, because she'd lain with him once. The Communists preached of better days for women. As she'd seen from Hsia Shou-Tao, not all of them meant what they said. She thought Nieh was different. Now she'd find out "Fair enough," he said. He sounded wintry, too, as he went on, "And just because you've lain down with me, don't think I will press for your schemes unless they have merit." Then he softened that by leaning up on an elbow and kissing her. "The one tonight certainly did."

"I am glad you think so," she said. Had she been wondering if she could use her body to influence Nieh and advance her own position among the revolutionaries who fought the scaly devils? She had to admit to herself that it had crossed her mind. In a man's world, a woman's body was sometimes the only weapon she had-and she did want to rise to where all her ideas were taken seriously, the better to avenge herself against the little devils. What Nieh said marked a better way, though. "Comrade, we have a bargain."

As if by accident, his hands strayed along her body toward the joining of her legs. "How shall we seal it?" he asked slyly.

She hesitated, feeling him stir against her side and start to rise. She wouldn't have minded another round, but-"Not like that," she said, and took his hand away. "Didn't you listen to what I told you?" like that," she said, and took his hand away. "Didn't you listen to what I told you?"

To her relief, he didn't sound angry when he answered, "I listened, but sometimes-often-people do nothing but mouth empty phrases. The Kuomintang, for instance, calls itself a revolutionary party." His contemptuous snort showed what he thought of that. "But you, Liu Han, you mean what you say. This is something I need to know."

"Good enough," Liu Han said after a moment "We seal it like this, then." Now she kissed him. "It is enough for now."

The Emperor's holographic image beamed down on the shiplords' celebration aboard the 127th Emperor Hetto. 127th Emperor Hetto. On three worlds of the Empire, billions from the Race, the Rabotevs, and the Hallessi were celebrating their sovereign's hatching day at just this moment. Knowing that made Atvar feel part of the great community the Race had built, not the embattled outsider into which he sometimes seemed transformed by the pestilential war on Tosev 3. On three worlds of the Empire, billions from the Race, the Rabotevs, and the Hallessi were celebrating their sovereign's hatching day at just this moment. Knowing that made Atvar feel part of the great community the Race had built, not the embattled outsider into which he sometimes seemed transformed by the pestilential war on Tosev 3.

Some of the shiplords were behaving so boisterously, he wondered whether they'd illicitly tasted ginger before their shuttlecraft brought them here to the bannership. He didn't like to think high-ranking commanders could fall victim to the insidious Tosevite herb, but on Tosev 3 what he liked and the truth were often-too often-far apart.

There over to one side floated Kirel, his usual standoffishness forgotten, talking animatedly with a couple of males who had been of Straha's faction back in the days when Straha was around to have a faction. Atvar was glad to see his chief subordinate happier than usual, less glad to see the company with which he chose to enjoy himself. On the other fork of the tongue, a considerable majority of males had voted for Atvar's ouster after the SSSR set off its nuclear bomb, so for Kirel to ignore all of them would have left him on good terms with only a few shiplords.

And there was poor, hardworking Pshing. He had in his hand a squeezebulb filled with the fermented juices of certain Tosevite fruits. The Big Uglies, being unable to enjoy the intoxicating effects of ginger, made do with ethanol and various flavorings. Males of the Race found some of those vile-why anyone, even a Big Ugly, would drink whiskey, was beyond Atvar-but others might be worth exporting to Home after the conquest was complete.

Atvar drifted over to Pshing, checked himself by snagging a grab ring with the claws of one toe. "How does it feel not to be waking me up to report some disaster?" he asked.

Pshing's eyes didn't quite track. He'd probably had several bulbs full of red wine already. "Exalted Fleetlord, it feels wonderful wonderful!" he exclaimed, tacking on an emphatic cough that threatened to become a coughing fit "Stinking Big Uglies are quiet for a change."

"Indeed," Atvar said. "Now if only they remain so." He floated toward the console that dispensed bulbs of potations brought from Home, and toward the local drinks kept in bins with lids alongside it. He didn't want to celebrate the Emperor's hatching day with a product of Tosev 3. The Emperor represented Home and all it stood for. Far better to drink hudipar-berry brandy, then, than wine.

The male who came into the chamber was conspicuous not only for his subdued body paint but also for the purposeful way he went about looking for Atvar. The fleetlord's momentary good spirits flickered and blew out Rokois was Pshing's subordinate, taking the duty for the adjutant so he could enjoy himself. If Rokois was here, instead of waiting in front of a communicator, something had gone wrong-again.

Atvar had a strong impulse to hide himself inside a floating cl.u.s.ter of males so Rokois could not spot his body paint. Just for once, he, like Pshing, deserved a respite from bad news. But even if he escape that, he would not be able to evade the Emperor's eyes. Some trick of the hologram made them follow you wherever you were in the chamber. And had that trick not been there, he knew his duty too well to flee from it.

But oh, the temptation!

Instead of fleeing the adjutant's a.s.sistant, Atvar pushed off the console toward him (he did carry along the bulb of hudipar-berry brandy). Rokois folded into the posture of respectful obedience and began, "Exalted Fleetlord, I regret to report that-"

Although he had not spoken loudly, those words were plenty to bring near-silence to the festival chamber. Atvar was far from the only male to have noted his arrival and to wonder what news was urgent enough to disturb the fleetlord at the celebration. Had Britain or Nippon or some other, previously discounted, Tosevite empire or not-empire touched off an atomic bomb? Had Deutschland or the United States or even the SSSR touched off another one?

"Tell me, Rokois," Atvar interrupted. "What do you regret to report now?"

"Exalted Fleetlord, the Big Uglies appear to have discovered our custom of honoring the Emperor's hatching day," the adjutant's a.s.sistant answered. "Certain of them were invited to perform with their trained Tosevite beasts at observances of the day in cities on the eastern part of the main continental ma.s.s: this is in the large, populous not-empire known as China. Due to inadequate security, they were able to smuggle explosives in amongst our officers and administrators along with their beasts."

"They died themselves, then?" Atvar said. Defending against males willing to do that was next to impossible. Fortunately, such fanatics were rare even among the fanatical Big Uglies.

"Exalted Fleetlord, in many instances they did," Rokois answered. "We captured a couple of these males and disarmed their explosives before detonation. They insist they were duped, that they thought the bombs were, in fact, video equipment to allow us to record their performances."

A rising mutter of anger and outrage came from the shiplords. Atvar understood that; he felt it himself. If you told lies, you didn't need to recruit fanatics without fear of death. Any race, the Race included, had its share of dupes.

As he usually did in the face of misfortune, he tried to look on tin bright side of things. "If we have some of these beast exhibitors in custody, they may be able to lead us to the males who induced then to undertake their missions."

"May events prove you correct, Exalted Fleetlord," Rokois said. "The timing devices on the captured explosives are of Nipponese manufacture, although the males unanimously insist Chinese were the intermediaries who paid them and arranged for their performances."

"More than one level of dupery may have been involved," Atvar said. "Or, conversely, the timers may have been used merely to deceive us. Further investigation should shed more light on that. What else have you learned?"

"There is one other thing to support the view that this was a Chinese blow against us," Rokois answered. "In the areas surrounding several of our administrative centers, we have found small handbills that, if translated correctly-the Chinese write with a peculiarly abominable script-demand the return of the hatchling taken from the Big Ugly female Liu Han for purposes of research."

"The Big Uglies may not make demands of us," Atvar said indignantly. Then he wondered why not. In matters military, they had earned wary attention if not full equality. "We shall have to evaluate this further."

"Truth, Exalted Fleetlord." Rokois held no responsibility there, and was blithely aware of it. He disseminated policy; he did not shape it. After a moment's hesitation, he went on, "Exalted Fleetlord, reports indicate that casualties among senior administrators and officers in China may be especially heavy. They naturally had seats closest to the Big Uglies presenting the beast shows, and so took the full brunt of the blasts."

"Yes, that does make sense." Atvar sighed again. "No help for it. Some junior males will get new marks and colors for their body paint. Some of them won't have the experience or the sense to do their jobs as well as they should. As they show that, we'll cull them and put others in their place. We shall rule China. We shall rule Tosev 3." And I shall drink enough hudipar-berry brandy to forget I'm orbiting above this miserable, hateful world. And I shall drink enough hudipar-berry brandy to forget I'm orbiting above this miserable, hateful world.

Despite that gloomy thought, his outward demeanor inspired Rokois, who exclaimed, "It shall shall be done, Exalted Fleetlord!" be done, Exalted Fleetlord!"

"Yes, spirits of past Emperors aiding us, it shall." Now Atvar paused before resuming, "When you came in here, I feared you were bringing me word the Big Uglies had touched off another nuclear device. The Emperor be praised, I was wrong." Instead of lowering his eye turrets, he turned them toward the hologram of his ruler.

"May it not come to pa.s.s," Rokois burst out, also gathering strength from the image of the Emperor.

"Indeed. May it not" The fleetlord squirted a long pull of brandy down his throat.

Teerts' radar gave him a new target. He didn't have it visually, not yet. All he saw through his windscreen were clouds and, through occasional rents in them, the wave-chopped surface of the ocean that stretched between the main and lesser continental ma.s.ses.

He was just as glad not to be flying over Deutschland any more. Maybe Munchen had deserved what the Race gave it; he was no targeting specialist or shiplord, to be able to judge such things from full knowledge. Flying over the gla.s.sy ruins of what had been a large city, though, left him glum. The sight made him think of Tokyo, which, but for him, might still be standing. To hate the Nipponese was one thing, to visit on them nuclear fire quite another.

They would have visited the same fire on the Race, had they possessed it Teerts knew that full well. It salved his conscience, but not enough.

He thought about tasting ginger, but decided to wait until his body's need could no longer be denied. "I think faster with ginger," he said, first making sure his radio was off. "I don't think better. Or I think I don't think better, anyhow." He puzzled through that, finally deciding it was what he meant.

He dove down beneath the clouds. This would be the third ship he'd attacked on his flight to the lesser continental ma.s.s. They seemed almost as thick as parasites on the water. The males with the fancy body paint were right to start paying more attention to them, as far as he was concerned. The Race had automatically discounted water and travel on it.

"Trust the Big Uglies to do things we'd never think of," he muttered. You could use up a lot of aircraft and a lot of munitions trying to suppress the Tosevites' nautical commerce. If you tried shutting down all of it, would you have any aircraft left to commit to other tasks?

That wasn't his judgment to make. But attacking ships wasn't like blowing cities off the face of Tosev 3. It was a real part of war, easily comprehensible to any male at all. For once, Elifrim had a.s.signed him something he didn't loathe.

There! Sheet metal and wood, crude and homely, slow and wallowing, belching a trail of smoke into the cloudy sky. You didn't need missiles for this. He'd used up his laser-guided bombs on the two previous targets, but he still had cannon and plain bombs taken from a Tosevite a.r.s.enal. They would do the job.

The ship swelled monstrously fast. His killercraft screamed toward it in a shallow dive. The targeting computer told him to release the bombs. The aircraft's nose tried to come up as they dropped away. He and the autopilot kept it on its proper course.

He spotted Tosevites scrambling about on the deck of the ship. The killercraft bucked in the air as he thumbed the firing b.u.t.ton of the cannon. He poured sh.e.l.ls into the ship before the blasts from the bombs, and the water they kicked up, obscured it from sight "Goodbye, Big Uglies," he said, pulling out of the dive, so he could make another pa.s.s and inspect the damage.

He hadn't sunk this one. Radar told him as much, before he got a good look at it. But smoke spurted from places it hadn't before. Some of the Big Uglies were down and motionless now, others struggling to repair the damage he'd done.

And others-Fire spurted from the front end of the ship, again and again and again. They had an antiaircraft gun aboard, and were using it with great vim even if the sh.e.l.ls they threw up weren't coming very close to him.

"Praise the Emperor's name for that," he said. If he was unlucky enough to get shot down twice, he wouldn't be taken prisoner, not here. He'd go into the water and see whether he froze before he drowned or vice versa.

This time, he fired a long burst at the Tosevite's popgun. He knew he'd damaged their vessel some more, and had no intention of coming round again to find out how much. That antiaircraft cannon might not have been wrecked.

Up above the clouds once more, to broaden the radar's range. He looked forward to landing in what the locals called Florida. The air-base in southern France from which he'd been flying had turned unpleasantly cold, by his standards if not by those of Tosev 3. But Florida stayed close to temperate throughout its winter season, even if the air was moist enough to make him inspect his scales for mold whenever he got up in the morning.

He checked his fuel supply. The attack runs he'd made had left him rather low on hydrogen to make it all the way across this ridiculously wide stretch of water. The Race kept a couple of refueling aircraft flying above the ocean for such contingencies. Satellite relay quickly put him in touch with one of them. He swung north for a rendezvous.

Guiding the p.r.o.ng from the refueling aircraft into his own took delicacy and concentration. He was glad he hadn't tasted beforehand; he knew how jumpy and impatient he got with ginger in him. Unfortunately, he also knew how sad and morose he got with no ginger in him.

He attacked one more ship on his way to Florida. The fog was so thick over the water that he carried out the run almost entirely by radar. He saw the wallowing Tosevite craft only at the last instant, just in time to add a few rounds from his cannon to the bombs he'd dropped.

Before long, he left behind the clouds and fog. The sky above him was a deep blue, the water below an even deeper shade of the same color. For once, Tosev 3 seemed almost beautiful-if you liked blue. It was a color far less common on Home than here. A proper world, to his way of thinking, was supposed to have an abundance of yellows and reds and oranges. Blue should have been an appetizer, not a main course.

Radar spotted the land ahead before he did-but radar was not concerned with aesthetics. Teerts didn't think much of the low, damp terrain toward which he was flying. Its hideous humidity meant that everything not recently cleared was covered by a rank, noxious coat of vegetation. He wasn't any too fond of green, either, though he did prefer it to blue.

Only the sandy beaches reminded him of Home, and they should have been broad expanses, not narrow strips hemmed in by more of Tosev 3's omnipresent water. He sighed. He wasn't going to have to do anything complicated from here on out, so he let himself have some ginger.