"But why have them at all?"

"That I do not know. Aidan, I have only been here a short time and I—"

"The names give us an identity that we deserve but are not allowed to earn," Genetic Officer Watson said. He was standing at the doorway to the lab, his stomach-it seemed—halfway into the room in front of him. It was unusual to see an overweight person anywhere in Clan society, so severe were the conditions of life, so austere and controlled. Watson, and for that matter, a few of his colleagues, were pronounced exceptions to the rule. Their lives were sedentary, these obese people might have said, but Aidan knew it was because they had ways of obtaining food not available to other castes. The genetic program was considered so valuable to the Clan that the Councils allowed scientists many privileges, one of which was the apportionment of extra rations. Several of the scientists also maintained a hothouse where they grew various fruits and vegetables. In the few days since Aidan had been hiding here, Watson and the other scientists had encouraged him to eat well. Now even he was beginning to feel a bit flabby around the middle.

Watson ambled easily into the lab, twisting his body adroitly to avoid disturbing or dislodging any lab furniture or equipment. Despite his bulk, the man always seemed graceful to Aidan, who figured the agility came from the continual need to maneuver among typically narrow work spaces. "Our names are not Bloodnames, nor have we earned them according to the rites and customs of the Clans. They are like open secrets. In our own environment, we use them to remind ourselves of our own importance. Perhaps it seems foolish, but in a corner of the universe where warriors reign supreme, where they are the only ones who merit the surnames originally held by those who followed the great General Kerensky in the Exodus, other persons also have the need to feel that their contributions represent another brand of heroism, if you will—are also worthy of some honor. Thus, we award ourselves names, and make no mistake, we fight for them just as fiercely as do warriors. Our melees are not violent, but they draw blood nevertheless, maiming egos rather than limbs."

Aidan's brow furrowed. "I do not understand, sir."

"Those of us with surnames have achieved something, have shown skill in scientific study or observation. We do not fight in a field, but rather vote in our own small councils at to whether an individual deserves to have a labname, as we call it. We cannot call it a Bloodname, in spite of the blood we metaphorically spill in order to achieve one. Perhaps this mimicry of warrior customs seems absurd, but I do believe that we carry our lab-names with a pride that is near the equal of a warrior with his or her Bloodname. I can see that you are still puzzled, Aidan."

"I do not understand all your words."

Watson laughed, a good, hearty bellow that threatened to dislodge solutions from Petri dishes. "I suppose we like to flaunt our vocabularies around here, as well as our achievements. Let me just say that the labnames help us psychologically as well as giving what you warriors call a command structure to our organization."

"What I have wondered," Peri said, "is where the names come from. None exist among the Bloodnames."

"No, they do not. The names are those of past scientists who have contributed throughout history. Thus, I am Watson, after the man who discovered DNA. Newton is Newton and Tesla is Tesla because of certain contributions those scientists made to the evolution of science itself. Sometimes, if we transfer to another lab and discover an already-entrenched Watson or Newton, we have to petition for a new labname. It is a complicated life, my children, a complicated life."

The phrase my childrenhad an almost vulgar sound to both Aidan and Peri. Though neither was born of natural parents, neither would have been willing to give this imposing scientist lectures on Clan prurience.

"Why I am here," Watson said, "is to tell you of a general communique that specifically mentions you, Aidan. It included a clear description, plus the information that you are being sought because of your criminal activities."

"That is a lie! How could they—"

"No doubt a design to force anyone who has seen you to turn you in. I sent back the routine sort of message, that no one of that description has been seen in this region."

"Thank you, sir."

"But I must warn you, I cannot vouch for others here. If any of them come upon the communique and decide to win a few points with the planetary council, then the game is up."

"You should go, Aidan," Peri said after Watson had left them. "This place may be too dangerous for you now."

"It is the only place on Tokasha where I have friends. And, Peri, all Tokasha is dangerous for me. I am tired of traveling from place to place. I like it here, here with you. I will stay."

"I do not know whether to be pleased or angry. If they find you, I—"

He put his hand lightly over her lips. "As you always say to me, hush. Let us not concern ourselves."

He took her into his arms. As they embraced, Aidan was besieged with dangerous thoughts. He had been honest in saying he wished to stay with Peri, yet staying together went against all their Clan instincts. Only in the lowest castes were permanent relationships allowed, even encouraged. And then merely to ensure the maintenance of a population numerous enough to provide personnel for all the services necessary to the warrior caste and for the industries scattered among the Clan planets. One of Nicholas Kerensky's principal intentions was that no essential facet of Clan life be understaffed.

The higher castes had no trouble maintaining proper population levels. The scientists, for example, kept their ranks at optimum levels through casual procreation among themselves. Peri had told Aidan that once she was fully qualified in the caste, it was expected she would breed with various of her colleagues at the station.

"Does that not disgust you?" Aidan had asked.

"No. Why should it?"

"Peri, you were once a warrior, belonging to the highest caste possible. Not only that, but because warriors do not have to create or bear children, you would never have been made to carry a child in your womb, you would never—"

Seeing that Peri was laughing, Aidan stopped. "Aidan, you forget, we are no longer warriors."

"I never forget."

"Yes. Your problem. Definitely a problem for you. But, remember, I did not come as close to becoming a warrior. I am settled with my new life, just as you are not. I do not detest the thought of bearing a child. I even look forward to it."

With an unpleasant feeling starting in the pit of his stomach, Aidan no longer wanted to discuss the subject. It seemed to him as foul, as obscene, as listening to laborers speak in contractions or Watson referring to others as his children.

"Aidan, you perhaps will someday want to create your own child, you—"

"Do not even say it. I wish only to leave my imprint in a gene pool."

"Which you never will."

"Peri, how can you talk like this? How can you even look forward to having a child?"

"That is easy," she said, almost mysteriously. "Easier than you might think, Aidan."

"You havechanged, Peri. In the sibko you would not have had such thoughts."

"This is not the sibko, Aidan."

"No, it is not."

"There is some bitterness in your voice. A surprise."