It was also a losing battle. Her eye turrets kept sliding away from the monitor and toward the desk drawer where she’d hidden the ginger. You are nothing but an addict, dependent on a miserable Tosevite herb, she told herself severely. That should have shamed her. Back when she’d first started tasting, it had shamed her. It didn’t any more. Now she knew it was nothing but a statement of fact.

Like her eye turrets, the chair swiveled. Before she quite knew what she’d done, she turned the chair away from the computer table and toward the desk. She’d just started to rise when the telephone circuitry inside the computer hissed for attention.

She turned back with a hiss of her own, one that mixed frustration and relief. “I greet you,” she said, and then, when she saw Veffani’s image on the screen, “I greet you, superior sir.”

“And I greet you, Senior Researcher,” the ambassador to the Reich replied. “Come to my office immediately.”

“It shall be done,” Felless said, and switched off. If she was busy, she could keep her mind-or some of her mind-off her craving. Had Veffani waited a little longer before calling, she would have created fresh scandal by poking her nose outside her office.

Maybe the call was a test. If it was, she would pass it. She’d passed other, similar, tests before. If she passed enough of them… odds were it still wouldn’t matter. Veffani had made it all too clear he wouldn’t let her go no matter what she did.

As she had on that disastrous day when the ambassador summoned her after she’d tasted, she walked by Slomikk in the hall. The science officer turned an eye turret in her direction, no doubt wondering whether mating pheromones would reach his scent receptors in a moment. When they didn’t, he kept on walking. Felless felt as if she’d won an obscure victory.

Pheromones didn’t matter to Veffani’s secretary, a female from the colonization fleet. Even so, after Felless’ previous fiasco, the female was wary. “I trust there will be no problem when you go in to see him?” she said.

“None,” Felless said, and walked past the secretary too fast for her to get in any more digs.

Veffani turned an eye turret toward her. “I greet you, Senior Researcher. You are commendably prompt.”

“I thank you, Ambassador.” Felless fought to hold her temper. Nothing she did here would get her a commendation, and she knew it only too well. “How may I serve the Race?”

When Veffani didn’t answer right away, hope began to rise in her. If the ambassador didn’t like what she had to say, maybe it would do her some good. At last, he said, “As you no doubt know, you were reckoned the colonization fleet’s leading expert on alien races when your fleet set out from Home.”

Felless made the affirmative gesture. “Yes, superior sir. I did not know then how much of my training would be useless here on Tosev 3.”

“This world has surprised all of us,” Veffani said, which was an undoubted truth. “The point I am trying to make, however, is that Fleetlord Reffet still reckons you a leading expert on the Big Uglies, no matter how little you deserve that recognition when compared to various males from the conquest fleet.”

Now hope did surge, hot and strong, in Felless. Being a fleetlord himself, Reffet could cancel out Atvar and the males from the conquest fleet-even Veffani. He could… provided he wanted to badly enough. Felless had to fight to keep a quiver from her voice as she asked, “What does the exalted fleetlord require of me?”

“I cannot tell you, because no one has informed me.” Veffani didn’t sound very happy to tell her that. He went on, “The fleetlord’s representative, a certain Faparz, will be coming down by shuttlecraft to inform you personally. He is due to arrive this evening.”

“By shuttlecraft?” Felless knew she sounded surprised, but the ambassador could scarcely blame her for that, no matter what else he blamed her for. “Why does he not communicate by telephone or electronic message?”

“That I can answer,” Veffani replied. “The accursed Deutsch Tosevites are becoming altogether too good at reading and decoding our signals. And they are not the only ones, are they? Do I not recall your telling me an American Big Ugly succeeded for some time in masquerading as a male of the Race on the computer network?”

“Yes, superior sir, that is correct.” Felless knew another stab of jealousy about Ttomalss-one that, for a change, had nothing to do with his escape from the Reich. His project involving the Tosevite hatchling kept paying handsome dividends. Felless might have thought of doing such a thing herself, but Ttomalss, having come with the conquest fleet, had an enormous head start on her… as he did in all matters Tosevite. She forced her thoughts back to the matter directly in front of her. “Then whatever message Faparz bears is one where security is an important concern?”

“I should think so, yes,” Veffani answered. “My I offer you a word of advice, Senior Researcher?”

“I rather think I know what you are about to say,” Felless replied.

“Duty requires me to say it anyhow.” It wasn’t just duty, either: Veffani looked as if he was enjoying himself. “Do not taste ginger between now and then. Faparz is not a Big Ugly male, and you will not win favor with him because he has mated with you. The reverse is likelier to be true.”

“Believe me, superior sir, I understand that,” Felless said stiffly. She would crave ginger, and this evening felt a long way off. But the ambassador was undoubtedly right, even if he took too much pleasure in rubbing her snout in her own disgrace.

“For your sake, I hope you do,” he said now. “I would just as soon see your punishment continue; in my opinion, you deserve it. You will prove that if you humiliate yourself with the representative of the fleetlord of the colonization fleet as well as with those from the conquest fleet.” Felless did her best to hide her resentment, part of which sprang from Veffani’s being right. The ambassador went on, “I dismiss you.”

“I thank you, superior sir.” Felless did not in fact feel in the least thankful, but even Big Uglies recognized how hypocrisy lubricated social wheels. She hurried away before Veffani found any more pungent advice for her.

As was her habit, she retreated to her office. That proved a mistake; her eye turrets kept going back to the drawer where she kept her precious vials of ginger. But fleeing the office would have meant mingling with the rest of the embassy staff, most of whom where members of the conquest fleet and most of whom had no more use for her than did Veffani. Except when I’ve been tasting ginger, she thought. They have a use for me then, but not one that makes them like me or respect me any more afterwards.

All that made perfect sense… in her mind. But she’d been on the point of tasting when Veffani summoned her to his office. No matter what made sense in her mind, her body craved ginger. It let her know it craved ginger, too, and in no uncertain terms. Every moment seemed an eternity. She wanted to call Veffani back and ask him when in the evening Faparz was scheduled to arrive, but made herself hold back. The ambassador would surely understand why she made such a call: would understand, and would scorn her more than ever.

She was trembling with the desperate urge to taste when the intercom unit connected to her door hissed for attention. “Enter,” she called, and the male waiting in the corridor did come in.

“I greet you, Senior Researcher,” Faparz said. The body paint on one side of his torso and one arm was plainer than Felless’. That on his other side was as colorful and ornate as anyone on or near Tosev 3 possessed.

“I greet you, Fleetlord’s Adjutant,” Felless replied. Veffani hadn’t told her Reffet was sending his adjutant, and Felless hadn’t expected it. Maybe the ambassador hadn’t known. But maybe he’d been hoping she would taste, and would end up in trouble because of it. Well, she hadn’t. Pride helped fight her desire for the Tosevite herb-helped a little, anyway. “How may I serve the commander of the colonization fleet?”