attention in each face. They were really concerned about him and no mistaking it. He felt torn between duty and the simple demands of humanity. In their own context, these were warm and honest people, but if they . . . Confused, Orne pushed his chair back, said:
"Mrs. Bullone . . ." then remembered she'd asked him to call her Polly.
"Polly, if you really don't mind . . ."
"Mind!" she barked "You scoot along."
"May we get you anything?" Bullone asked.
"No. no, really." Orne stood, feeling rubbery in his knees and very aware of the better fit in his regrown kneecap.
"I'll see you in the morning, Lew," Diana said. She managed to convey both the concern of a hostess in these words and something warmly personal, a private message. Orne wasn't sure he wanted that private message.
"In the morning," he agreed.
He turned away, thinking: Lord, what a desirable woman!
As he started down the hall, he heard Bullone say in a heavily paternal voice:
"Di, perhaps you'd better not take that boy all over the place tomorrow.
After all, he is here for a convalescent rest."
Her answer was lost as Orne entered the hall, closed the door.
In the privacy of his room, Orne pressed the transceiver stud at his neck, said: "Stet?"
A voice hissed in his ears on the surf-beat carrier wave: "This is Mr.
Stetson's relief. Orne, isn't it?"
"Yes, this is Orne. I want a recheck right away on those Nathian records the archaeologists recovered from Dabih. Find out if Sheleb was one of the planets they seeded."
"Right. Hang on."
There was a long silence, then: "Lew, this is Stet. How come that question about Sheleb?"
"Was it on the Nathian list?"
"Negative. Why'd you ask?"
"Are you sure? It'd explain a lot of things."
"Sheleb is not on their lists . . . but, wait a minute." Silence, then:
"Sheleb is on the course-line cone to Auriga and Auriga was on their list.
We've reason to doubt they put anyone down on Auriga. But if their ship ran into trouble . . ."
"That's it!" Orne snapped.
"Stop using open voice!" Stetson ordered. "Sub-vocal only. They can't tap this system, but they know it exists. We can't have them get suspicious because you talk to yourself."
"Sorry," Orne said. "I just knew Sheleb had to be . . ."
"Why? What've you discovered?"
"I've had an idea that frightens me," Orne said. "Remember that the women who ruled Sheleb were breeding male or female offspring by controlling the sex at conception. In fact, it was that imbalance which . . ."
"You don't have to remind me of something we'd rather have buried and forgotten," Stetson interrupted. "Why is that so important right now?"
"Stet, what if your Nathian underground is composed entirely of women bred in that same way? And what if their own men don't even know about it? What if Sheleb were just a place which got out of hand because the women there had lost contact with their main element? They were an R&R discovery."
"Holy Mother Marak," Stetson said. "Do you have evidence to sub . . ."
"Nothing but a hunch," Orne said. "Can you get a list of the guests invited to the Bullones' election party tomorrow?"
"Yes, we can get it. Why?"
"Examine it for women who masterminded their husbands in politics. Let me know how many and who."
"Lew, that's not enough to . . ."
"It's all we have to go on at this point," Orne said He paused as a new thought struck him. "There may be one other thing. Don't forget that the Nathians came from nomad ancestry. The traces will still be there."
We have a very ancient saying: The more God, the more devil; the more flesh, the more worms, the more property, the more anxiety; the more control, the more that needs control.
-- THE ABBODS OF AMEL, Psi Commentary
Day began early for the Bullones.
In spite of its being election day, the High Commissioner took off for his office an hour after dawn, passing a sleepy-eyed Orne in the main hallway with a bright "Good morning, son. Did you sleep well?"
Orne admitted that he had slept well. He could see
"Mrs. Bullone . . ." then remembered she'd asked him to call her Polly.
"Polly, if you really don't mind . . ."
"Mind!" she barked "You scoot along."
"May we get you anything?" Bullone asked.
"No. no, really." Orne stood, feeling rubbery in his knees and very aware of the better fit in his regrown kneecap.
"I'll see you in the morning, Lew," Diana said. She managed to convey both the concern of a hostess in these words and something warmly personal, a private message. Orne wasn't sure he wanted that private message.
"In the morning," he agreed.
He turned away, thinking: Lord, what a desirable woman!
As he started down the hall, he heard Bullone say in a heavily paternal voice:
"Di, perhaps you'd better not take that boy all over the place tomorrow.
After all, he is here for a convalescent rest."
Her answer was lost as Orne entered the hall, closed the door.
In the privacy of his room, Orne pressed the transceiver stud at his neck, said: "Stet?"
A voice hissed in his ears on the surf-beat carrier wave: "This is Mr.
Stetson's relief. Orne, isn't it?"
"Yes, this is Orne. I want a recheck right away on those Nathian records the archaeologists recovered from Dabih. Find out if Sheleb was one of the planets they seeded."
"Right. Hang on."
There was a long silence, then: "Lew, this is Stet. How come that question about Sheleb?"
"Was it on the Nathian list?"
"Negative. Why'd you ask?"
"Are you sure? It'd explain a lot of things."
"Sheleb is not on their lists . . . but, wait a minute." Silence, then:
"Sheleb is on the course-line cone to Auriga and Auriga was on their list.
We've reason to doubt they put anyone down on Auriga. But if their ship ran into trouble . . ."
"That's it!" Orne snapped.
"Stop using open voice!" Stetson ordered. "Sub-vocal only. They can't tap this system, but they know it exists. We can't have them get suspicious because you talk to yourself."
"Sorry," Orne said. "I just knew Sheleb had to be . . ."
"Why? What've you discovered?"
"I've had an idea that frightens me," Orne said. "Remember that the women who ruled Sheleb were breeding male or female offspring by controlling the sex at conception. In fact, it was that imbalance which . . ."
"You don't have to remind me of something we'd rather have buried and forgotten," Stetson interrupted. "Why is that so important right now?"
"Stet, what if your Nathian underground is composed entirely of women bred in that same way? And what if their own men don't even know about it? What if Sheleb were just a place which got out of hand because the women there had lost contact with their main element? They were an R&R discovery."
"Holy Mother Marak," Stetson said. "Do you have evidence to sub . . ."
"Nothing but a hunch," Orne said. "Can you get a list of the guests invited to the Bullones' election party tomorrow?"
"Yes, we can get it. Why?"
"Examine it for women who masterminded their husbands in politics. Let me know how many and who."
"Lew, that's not enough to . . ."
"It's all we have to go on at this point," Orne said He paused as a new thought struck him. "There may be one other thing. Don't forget that the Nathians came from nomad ancestry. The traces will still be there."
We have a very ancient saying: The more God, the more devil; the more flesh, the more worms, the more property, the more anxiety; the more control, the more that needs control.
-- THE ABBODS OF AMEL, Psi Commentary
Day began early for the Bullones.
In spite of its being election day, the High Commissioner took off for his office an hour after dawn, passing a sleepy-eyed Orne in the main hallway with a bright "Good morning, son. Did you sleep well?"
Orne admitted that he had slept well. He could see
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