...And a heat seemed to surge smoothly out from Adda's stomach, flooding his body and head; his palms and feet tingled, as if being worked by invisible fingers, and his skull seemed to swell in size, filling up with a roomy, comfortable warmth. He looked down at his body, astonished, half-expecting to see electron gas sparking around his fingertips, to hear his skin sighing with the new warmth. But there was no outward change.

After a few seconds the heat-surge wore away, but when it had receded it left Adda feeling subtly altered. The bar seemed cozier — friendlier — than even a moment before, and the smell of the remaining beercake was pleasing, harmonious, enticing.

"Welcome to beercake, my friend, and a new lifelong relationship."

The pleasing warmth induced by the cake still permeated Adda. He poked at the cake with a new wonder. "Well, I've not eaten anything with such an impact before, up- or downflux."

"I didn't think so." Bzya picked up a piece of cake and compressed it between his fingers. "Farr is developing a taste too, I ought to say. It's a mash, mostly of Crust-tree leaf. But it's fermented — in huge Corestuff vessels, for days..."

"Fermented?"

"Spin-spider web is put into the vats with the mash. There's something in the webbing, maybe in the glistening stuff that makes it sticky, which reacts with the mash and changes it to beercake. Magic."

"Sure." Adda took another mouthful of the beercake now; it was as revolting as before, but the anticipation of its aftereffects made the taste much easier to bear. He swallowed it down and allowed the warmth to filter through his being.

"What does the stuff cost?"

"Nothing." Bzya shrugged. "The Harbor authorities provide it for us. As much as we want, as long as we're able to do our jobs."

"What do you mean? Is it bad for you?"

"If you overdo it, yes." Bzya rubbed his face. "It works on the capillaries in your flesh — dilates them — and some of the major pneumatic vessels in the brain. The flow of Air is subtly altered, you see, and..."

"And you feel wonderful."

"Yeah. But if you use it too often, you can't recover. The capillaries stay dilated..."

Adda gazed around the bar, at this safe, marvelous place. "That seems all right to me."

"Sure. Your head would be a wonderful place to live in. But you couldn't function, Adda; you couldn't do a job. And if it gets bad enough you couldn't even feed yourself, without prompting. But, yes, you'd feel wonderful about it."

"And I don't suppose this City is so forgiving of people who can't hold down jobs."

"Not much."

"Don't the Harbor managers worry they're going to lose too many of their Fishermen, to this cake stuff? Why dole it out free?"