Trud spoke to the device: "I have a lowest-pri background task for you. What would the Kindred want from this debate?" He glanced up at Jau and shrugged. "Dunno if we'll get any answer. Things are pretty busy."

Broute was almost done with his introductions. Honored Pedure was to be played by a Xopi Reung. Xopi was a thin little Emergent. Ezr knew her name only from studying rosters and talking to Anne Reynolt.I wonder ifanyone else here knows the woman's name? thought Ezr. Certainly not Jau and Rita. Trud would, just as a livestock herder in primitive times would know his property. Xopi Reung was young; she had been brought out of the freezer to replace what Silipan called "a senility failure." Reung had been on-Watch for about 40Msec. She was responsible for most of the progress in learning other Spider languages, in particular "Tiefic." And she was already the second-best translator of "Standard Accord" speech. Someday, she might very well be better than Trixia. In a sane world, Xopi Reung would have been a premier academic, famous across her solar system. But Xopi Reung had been selected in the Podmaster Lottery. While Xin and Liao and Silipan led fully conscious lives, Xopi Reung was part of the automation in the walls, unseen except for the occasional peculiar circumstance.

Xopi Reung spoke: "Thank you, Master Digby. The Radio of Princeton secures itself proud by giving us this time to talk." During Broute's introduction, Reung's attention had flickered all around, birdlike. Perhaps her huds were out of adjustment, or maybe she preferred to scatter important cues all about her visual field. But when she started talking, something feral came into her eyes.

"Not a very good translation," someone complained.

"She's new, remember," said Trud.

"Or maybe this Pedure really does talk funny. You said she's a foreigner."

Reung-as-Pedure leaned out over the table. Her voice came silky and low. "Twenty days ago, we all discovered a corruption afester in what millions of people had been taking for years into their homes, into their husbands' and children's ears." She continued for several moments, speaking awkward sentences that seemed very self-righteous. Then: "So it is fitting that the Radio of Princeton should now give us opportunity to cleanse the community's air." She paused, "I—I—" It was as though she couldn't think of the right words. For an instant she seemed the ziphead again, fidgeting, her head cocked. Then abruptly she slammed her palm against the surface of the table. She pulled herself down to her chair and shut up.

"I told you, that one's not much of a translator."

TWENTY-FOUR

By leaning hands and forelegs on the wall, Viki and Gokna could keep their main eyes against the glass. It was an awkward pose, and the two skittered back and forth along the base of the window.

"Thank you, Master Digby. The Radio of Princeton secures itself proud by—" blah blah blah.

"She talks funny," said Gokna.

"I already told you that. She's a foreigner." Didire spoke abstractedly. She was busy with some arcane adjustment of her equipment. She didn't seem to be paying much attention to what was actually being said on the soundstage. Brent was watching the show with stolid fascination, while Jirlib alternated between the window and standing as close as he could to Didi. He was well cured of giving her technical advice, but he still liked to stand close. Sometimes he would ask an appropriately naive question. When Didi wasn't busy, that usually got her talking to him.

Gokna grinned at Viki. "No. I meant ‘Honored Pedure' talks like a bad joke."

"Hm." Viki wasn't so sure. Pedure's clothing was strange, of course. She hadn't seen cleric shawls outside of books. It was a shapeless cloak that came down on every side, obscuring all but Pedure's head and maw. But she had an impression of strength under cover. Viki knew what most people thought of children such as herself. Pedure was just a full-time advocate of that view, right? But her speech had a certain menace...."Do you think she really believes what she's saying?"

"Sure she believes it. That's what makes her so funny. See how Daddy's smiling?" Sherkaner Underhill was perched on the other side of the sound-stage, quietly petting his babies. He hadn't said a word yet, but there was a faint smile twitching across him. Two pairs of baby eyes peered fearfully out from his fur. Rhapsa and Hrunk couldn't understand everything that was going on, but they looked frightened.

Gokna noticed, too. "Poor babies. They're the only ones she can scare. Watch! I'm gonna Give Ten to the Honored Pedure." She turned away from the window and ran to the side wall—and then up the rack of audio tapes. The girls were seven years old, much too big for acrobatics.Oops. The rack was freestanding. It swayed out from the wall, tapes and assorted junk sliding to the edge of each shelf. Gokna reached the top before anyone but Viki realized what was happening. And from there she leaped out, grabbing the top molding of the soundstage window. The rest of her body swung down against the glass with a solidsplat sound. For an instant, she was a perfect Ten splayed out across the window. On the far side of the glass, Pedure stared in stupefied shock. The two girls shrieked with laughter. It wasn't often you could give such a perfect Ten, flaring your underwear in the target's face.

"Quit it!"Didi's voice was a flat hiss. Her hands flickered across the controls. "This is the last time you little crappers get into my control room! Jirlib, get over there! Shut your sisters down or drag them out, but no more crapping nonsense."

"Yes, yes! I'm so sorry." Jirlib really did sound sorry. He rushed over and plucked Gokna from the glass wall. A second later Brent followed him, grabbing Victory.

Jirlib didn't seem angry, just upset. He held Gokna very close to his head. "You must be quiet. For once you must be serious." It occurred to Viki that maybe he was just upset because Didi was so angry with him. But it really didn't matter. All the laughter had leaked out of Gokna. She touched an eating hand to her brother's maw, and said softly, "Yes. I'll be good for the rest of the show. I promise."

Behind them, Viki could see Didi talking—probably to the phone in Digby's ear. Viki couldn't hear the words, but the guy was nodding agreement. He had eased Pedure back to her seat, and now segued into his introduction of Daddy. All the action on this side of the glass had accounted for virtually nothing out there. Someday she and Gokna were going to get themselves into real trouble, but it looked like that adventure was still somewhere in the future.

Xopi sat down amid general confusion. Usually the zipheads tried to keep these shows in approximate real time. Silipan claimed that was only partly his specification—the ziphead translators really liked to stay in synch with the word stream. In some sense, they really did like to act. Today they just weren't very successful at it.

Finally, Broute got himself together and gave a relatively smooth introduction to Sherkaner Underhill.

Sherkaner Underhill. Trixia Bonsol translated him. Who else could it have been? Trixia had been the first to crack the spoken language of the Spiders. Jau had told Ezr that in the early days of the live show, she had handled all the parts, children's voices, old people, phone-in questions. After other zipheads acquired fluency and there was a consensus of style, still Trixia had taken the hard parts.

Sherkaner Underhill: That might be the first Spider they ever had a name for. Underhill showed up in an incredible range of radio broadcasts. At first, it seemed that he had invented two-thirds of the industrial revolution. That misconception had faded: "Underhill" was a common name, and where this "Sherkaner Underhill" was referenced, it was always one of his students who actually did the work. So the guy must be a bureaucrat, the founder of the Princeton Institute, where most of his students seemed to be. But ever since the Spiders invented microwave relays, the snoopersats had been sucking on an increasing stream of easily decrypted national secrets. The "Sherkaner Underhill" ID showed up on almost twenty percent of all the high-security traffic that flowed across the Goknan Accord. Clearly, they were dealing with some kind of institutional name. Clearly... until they learned that "Sherkaner Underhill" had children, and they were on this radio show. Even though they hadn't figured it all out, there was some real political significance to "The Children's Hour." No doubt, Tomas Nau was watching this show over on Hammerfest.I wonder if Qiwiis with him.