Kassquit stooped slightly to look at herself in the mirror. She made the affirmative gesture. Maybe the wild Tosevites weren’t so daft to let their hair grow after all. She liked the way it framed her face. True, it did make her look less like a female of the Race, but she worried less about that than she had before she started meeting wild Big Uglies. She no longer saw any point to denying her biological heritage. It was part of her, no matter how much she still sometimes regretted that.

She looked down at herself. She was also growing hair under her arms and at the joining of her legs. That last patch still perplexed her. In long-ago days, had such little tufts of hair helped Tosevites’ semi-intelligent ancestors find one another’s reproductive organs? Animals both on Home and here on Tosev 3 often used such displays. Maybe this was another one. Kassquit couldn’t think of any other purpose the hair might serve.

The telephone hissed, distracting her. “Junior Researcher Kassquit speaking,” she said. “I greet you.” She sometimes startled callers who knew she was an expert on Big Uglies but were unaware she was of Tosevite descent herself.

But this time the startlement went the other way. The image that appeared in her monitor was that of a Big Ugly-and not just any Big Ugly. “And I greet you, superior female,” Jonathan Yeager said formally. Then he twisted his face into the Tosevite expression of amiability and went on, “Hello, Kassquit. How are you? It is good to see you again.”

Her own face showed little. By the nature of things, it couldn’t show much. Considering how she felt, that was probably just as well. Her voice, however, was another matter. She made it as cold as she could: “What do you want?”

“I wanted to say hello,” he answered. “I wanted to say it face to face. I fear I made you unhappy when I told you I was going to enter into a permanent mating arrangement-to get married, we say in English-with Karen Culpepper. I arranged this call from the Race’s consulate here in Los Angeles to apologize to you.”

Sudden hope leaped in her. “To apologize for entering into this arrangement with the Tosevite female?”

“No,” Jonathan Yeager answered. “I am not sorry about that. But I am sorry if I did make you unhappy. I hope you will believe me when I say I did not intend to.” He paused, then pointed at her from the screen. “You have let your hair grow since I was up in the starship with you.”

“Yes.” Kassquit made the affirmative gesture. She forgot-well, almost forgot-to be angry at him as she asked, “What do you think?” The opinions of members of the Race about her appearance meant little to her: they had no proper standards of comparison. Jonathan Yeager, on the other fork of the tongue, did.

“I like it,” he said now, and used an emphatic cough. “Hair does usually seem to add to the attractiveness of a female-even though you were attractive before.”

“But not so attractive as to keep you from seeking a permanent mating arrangement with this other female.” Kassquit could not-and did not bother to-hide her bitterness.

The American Big Ugly who had been her mating partner sighed. “I have known Karen Culpepper for many years. We grew to maturity together. We come from the same culture.”

Kassquit, of course, hadn’t grown to maturity with anybody. She had no idea what doing so would mean. She suspected she was missing something because of that, but she couldn’t do anything about it. For that matter, she sometimes suspected that the way she’d been raised left her missing all sorts of social and emotional development most Big Uglies took for granted, but she couldn’t do anything about that, either.

She said, “Would you have found it impossible to stay up here and spend all your time with me?” She hadn’t asked him that while he was aboard the starship. She hadn’t known how much his leaving would hurt till he’d gone-and then it was too late.

“I am afraid I would,” he answered. “Would you have found it impossible to come down to Tosev 3 and spend all your time here?”

“I do not know,” she said. “How can I know? I have never experienced the surface of Tosev 3.” She sighed. “But I do understand the comparison you are making. It could be that you are speaking a truth.”

“I thank you for that,” Jonathan Yeager said. “You were, I think, always honest with me. And I did try to be honest with you.”

Maybe he had. Back then, though, she hadn’t understood everything he’d meant, not down in her liver she hadn’t. Did she now? How could she be sure? She couldn’t, and knew it. But she understood more now than she had then. She was sure of that. With another sigh, she said, “You will do as you will do, and I shall do as I shall do. That is all I can tell you right now.”

“It is a truth,” the American Big Ugly said, nodding as his kind did to agree. “I wish you well, Kassquit. Please believe that.”

“And I… wish you well,” she replied. That was more true than otherwise-the most she would say about it. She took a deep breath. “Have we anything more to say to each other?”

“I do not think so,” Jonathan Yeager said.

“Neither do I.” Kassquit broke the connection. Jonathan Yeager’s image vanished from her monitor. She sat staring at the screen, waiting for a storm of tears to come. They didn’t. Not weeping seemed somehow worse than weeping would have. After a moment, she realized why: she had finally accepted that Jonathan Yeager wouldn’t be coming back.

I have to go on, she thought. Whatever I do, it will have to be in that context. If I seek another wild Big Ugly for sexual pleasure, I shall have to respond to him, not to my memories of Jonathan Yeager. She wondered how she could do that. She wondered if she could do it. Of course you can. You have to. You just figured that out for yourself. Have you already started to forget?

She probably had. Emotional issues arising from sexual matters were far more complex, and far more intense, than any she’d known before Jonathan Yeager came into her life. That, she feared, was also part of her biological heritage. She’d done her best to pretend that heritage didn’t exist. Now-she ran a hand across her hairy scalp-she was beginning to accept it. She wondered if that would result in any improvement. All she could do was see what happened next.

What happened next was that the telephone hissed again. “Junior Researcher Kassquit speaking,” she said again, seating herself in front of the monitor. “I greet you.”

“And I greet you, Kassquit,” Ttomalss said. “How are you today?”

“Oh, hello, superior sir.” Kassquit did a token job of assuming the position of respect-no more was needed while she was sitting down. Ttomalss might have asked the question as a polite commonplace, but she gave it serious consideration before answering, “All things considered, I am pretty well.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Ttomalss said. “I was listening to your conversation with Jonathan Yeager. I think you handled it with an emotional maturity to which many wild Big Uglies could only hope to aspire.”

“I thank you,” Kassquit said. Then, once the words were out of her mouth, she wasn’t so sure she thanked him after all. This time, she spoke with considerable care: “Superior sir, I understand why you monitored my life so closely when I was a hatchling and an adolescent: I was, after all, an experimental subject. But have I not proved your experiment largely successful?”

“There are times when I think you have,” her mentor answered. “Then again, there are other times when I think I may have failed despite my best efforts. When I see you imitating wild Tosevites, I do wonder whether environment plays any role at all in shaping an individual’s personality.”

“I am a Tosevite. It cannot be helped,” Kassquit said with a shrug. “I am having to come to terms with that myself. But have we not established that I am also a citizen of the Empire, and able to provide important and useful services for the Race? In fact, can I not provide some of those services precisely because I am at the same time a citizen of the Empire and a Big Ugly?”

She waited anxiously to hear how he would respond to that, and felt like cheering when he made the affirmative gesture. “Truth hatches from every word you speak,” he replied. “I cannot tell you how delighted I am to discover how seriously you take your obligations as a citizen of the Empire.”

“Of course I take them seriously,” Kassquit said. “Unlike a good many members of the Race-if I may speak from what I have seen-I take them seriously because I do not take them for granted.”

“That is well said,” Ttomalss told her. He used an emphatic cough. “Your words could be an example and an inspiration for many males and females of the Race.”

“Again, superior sir, I thank you,” Kassquit said. “And I am also pleased to have the privileges that come with citizenship in the Empire.”

She waited once more. Ttomalss said, “And well you might be. Say what you will for the wild Big Uglies, but you are part of an older, larger, wiser, more sophisticated society than any of theirs.”

“I agree, superior sir.” Kassquit couldn’t smile so that her face knew about it, as a wild Big Ugly could, but she was smiling inside. “And would you not agree, superior sir, that one of the privileges of citizenship is freedom from being arbitrarily spied upon?”

Ttomalss opened his mouth, closed it, and then tried again: “You are not an ordinary citizen of the Empire, you know.”

“Am I less than ordinary?” Kassquit asked. “If I am, how am I a citizen at all?”

“No, you are not less than ordinary,” Ttomalss said.

Before he could add anything to that, Kassquit pounced: “Then why do you have the right to continue to listen to my conversations?”

“Because you are different from an ordinary citizen of the Empire,” Ttomalss answered. “You can hardly deny that difference.”

“I do not deny it,” she said. “But I do think the time is coming, if it has not already come, when it will not outweigh my need to be able to lead my life as I see fit, not as you reckon best for me.”

“Here you are, trying to wound me again,” Ttomalss said.

“By no means.” Kassquit used the negative gesture. “You are the male who raised me. You have taught me most of what I know. But I have hatched from the egg of immaturity now. If I am a citizen, if I am an adult, I have the right to some life of my own.”

“But think of the data the Race would lose!” Ttomalss exclaimed in dismay.