I stared at him. "You mean there are twelve other Explorers in this town?"

He made an exasperated sound. "Not now, Ramos. One look at me, and they took off like gassed rabbits. Shows what loyal friends I made at the Academy."

"So there's a way out of this town?"

Tobit grimaced. "You just set a record, Ramos. Shortest effort at small-talk before you brought up the subject of leaving." He gave a jaundiced grin. "Even at the Academy, you were famous for your people skills."

"So were you," I said.

People Skills

One of the Skin-Face women trotted up to us. "Lord Tobit," she said with a worshipful bow, "the bell just rang again."

"Hot damn!" he replied, rubbing his hands together like an enthusiastic host. "The sharks have brought another visitor, Ramos. Your partner, no doubt."

"No. My partner is dead."

"Dead?" Tobit stared as if I'd made a joke. "An Explorer dead? On a candy planet like this? What'd you do to him?"

I returned Tobit's gaze till he flinched.

"The new visitor is probably a friend of mine," I said coldly. "A local. We'd better go reassure her. She gets upset easily."

"A local," Tobit repeated. "All glass?"

"Yes."

"Eloi," snarled the Skin-Face woman, her lips curling into a sneer.

"None of that," Tobit snapped. "No one starts a fight on my birthday. Take the squad back to base, lieutenant."

"Yes sir," she answered immediately. With a brisk salute, she pivoted away and returned to her three companions. A moment later, they disappeared into the nearest building.

"Eloi?" I asked.

"My own terminology," Tobit replied. "The solid glass layabouts are Eloi; the ones with skin are Morlocks. It's from a book."

"And you've trained your cadets to say Eloi with hatred? Very nice, Phylar. I love when Explorers spread enlightenment to the people they meet."

"The Morlocks hated the Eloi long before I got here," he answered. "It's a religious thing; but I've reined them in." His words would have been more convincing if he hadn't tossed a glance over his shoulder and added, "We'd better greet your friend before someone gets too upset."

He strode off quickly in the direction I had just come. I followed, saying nothing. It was tempting to take this chance to ask where the Morlocks got the skin for their faces; it was tempting to ask whether the Explorers who previously visited this town had really left in one piece. If, however, the Morlocks' false flesh had come from flayed Explorers, Tobit was in this mess up to his bloodshot eyeballs. Calling him on it would bring the issue to a boil; and I preferred to delay any confrontation until I knew Oar was safe.

When we were almost to the edge of the town, Tobit asked softly, "Your partner… who was it?"

"Yarrun Derigha."

"The kid with the jaw?"

"Without."

"Same thing." He walked in silence a few more steps. "Oh well," Tobit said at last, "that's what 'expendable' means."

He gave me a sideways glance, as if trying to decide whether to pat my arm reassuringly; but he did nothing.

Welcoming Oar

"This will be the first Eloi I've seen down here," Tobit said as we approached the door to the shark-machine dock.

"Didn't Jelca and Ullis pass this way?" I asked.

He nodded. "Three years ago."

"They were traveling with my friend's sister."

"Not when the sharks picked them up," Tobit shrugged. "The sister might have dodged getting caught; but the other two didn't mention traveling with another person. And they stayed a few days, like they weren't in a hurry to make a rendezvous."

I had no chance to pursue the subject — we had reached the door to the dock. Tobit pressed the OPEN button… and I barely managed to pull him from the entranceway before Oar leapt out, her hands bunched into fists.

It was a creditable imitation of my own response to surprise. These people certainly were fast learners.

"Don't worry, Oar," I said, "no one's going to hurt you."

"I did not like it inside the fish," she said with an injured tone.

Glancing into the dock area, I said, "No kidding." Oar's shark was more of a wreck than the one I'd blasted… except that the glass on hers was cracked from the inside, where she must have tried to punch her way out. "I see you found a way to amuse yourself on the trip."

Oar ignored me — she had noticed the town and was viewing it with a steely eye. "What is this place?" she asked. "Why is it so stupid?"

"Stupid?" Tobit asked.

"It is stupid to copy someone else's home," she sniffed, "and if you must create a copy, it is stupid to make so many mistakes." She waved her hand dismissively. "It is too big. It has ugly things attached to it."

"Those are flags!" Tobit said. "My friends hung them to celebrate my birthday."

"Get smarter friends," she told him, and turned her back pointedly.

Home-Brew

"What is a birthday?" Oar whispered to me.

"A commemoration," I replied. "A remembrance of the day a person was born." I tossed a glance at Tobit. "Phylar remembers his birthday with great regularity."

"No need to be rude," Tobit said. "I'll have you know, this is my real birthday, Ramos… on some pissant planet whose name escapes me. I'll look it up when I get back to my quarters."

"You brought your birthday calculator to Melaquin?"

"I knew I'd get marooned here," he answered. "I made sure to bring everything I need. Speaking of which…" He reached into a tightsuit pocket and withdrew a silver brandy flask. "Want a sip?"

The thought made me shudder. "An Explorer never drinks on planet-down missions."

"Here's some news, Ramos — this stopped being a mission as soon as the High Council choked you unconscious. And I stopped being an Explorer long before that." He raised the flask and took a swig. When he lowered it again, he sighed with pleasure… a sigh that reeked of rotgut alcohol.

"Home-brew?" I asked, trying to control my gag reflex.

"My own recipe," Tobit answered proudly. "You can't get booze from the local food synthesizers, but they produce some superbly fermentable fruit juices. The only hard work was programming the maintenance-bots not to throw out what I produced: they thought it was lemonade gone bad."

He laughed. I didn't. "What do your skin-faced friends think?" I asked. "Do they like a lord and master who drinks himself into a stupor?"

"Ramos," he answered, still chuckling, "they adore a lord and master who shares his liquor. Like I said, their food synthesizers don't make the stuff. They didn't know what they were missing till I came along." He gave me a leering smile. "How do you think I became their lord and master in the first place?"

"If you are anyone's lord and master," Oar said, "they are very stupid people. You are ugly and you smell." She slipped her arm into mine. "Let us go now, Festina."

"You ain't going nowhere yet, girlie," Tobit told her. He didn't sound offended; calling Oar 'girlie' might have been his attempt at rakish charm. "The only way to leave is inside a shark… and frankly," he waved toward the dock, "neither of those is seaworthy anymore."

"Can you summon other machines?" I asked.

"Nope. They show up on their own when they need to refuel. One docks in every few days. In the meantime… you can both be guests at my birthday party."

I said nothing; but Tobit must have seen how undelighted I was. "Cheer up!" he said, giving my arm a light slap, "you'll like my parties. I give presents to my guests, not the other way around. And I've just thought of a doozy for you."

HAPPY

We walked back to the central plaza, Oar still holding my arm to keep me between her and Tobit. Every so often she sniffed pointedly; she could smell the liquor on him. In her mind, he must be the epitome of dirty.