The woman was about Dura's age but a good deal plumper; her hair-tubes were elaborately knotted into a gold-and-white bun, and layers of fat showed over her cheekbones. With the air of a professional she peered into the boy's eyecups, ears and nostrils; she bade him open his mouth and ran a finger around his gums, inspecting the scrapings she extracted. Then she poked at Farr's armpits, anus and penis-cache.

Dura turned away from her brother's misery.

The woman said to Toba, "He's healthy enough, if underfed. But he doesn't look too strong."

Toba frowned. "You're considering him for Fishing?"

"Yes... He's obviously slim and light. But..."

"Madam, he's an upfluxer," Toba said complacently.

"Really?" The woman stared at Farr with new curiosity. She actually pulled away from him a little, wiping her hands on her garment.

"And that means, of course, for his size and mass he's immensely strong, here at the Pole. Ideal for the Bells." Toba turned to Dura, and his voice was smooth and practiced. "You see, Dura, the material of our bodies is changed, here at the Pole, because the Magfield is stronger." He seemed to be talking for the sake of it — to be filling in the silence while the woman pondered Farr's destiny. "The bonds between nuclei are made stronger. That's why it feels hotter here to you, and why your muscles are..."

"I'm sure you're right," the woman cut in. "But..." She hesitated. "Is he..."

"Broken in?" Dura interrupted heavily.

"Dura," Toba warned her.

"Lady, he is a Human Being, not a wild boar. And he can speak for himself."

Toba said rapidly, "Madam, I can vouch for the boy's good nature. He's been living in my home. Eating with my family. And besides, he represents good value at..."—his face puffed out, and he seemed to be calculating rapidly—"at fifty skins."

The woman frowned, but her fat, broad face showed interest. "For what? The standard ten years?"

"With the usual penalty clauses, of course," Toba said.

The woman hesitated.

A crowd was gathering around the Market's central Wheel. The noise level was rising and there was an air of excitement... of dangerous excitement, Dura felt; suddenly she wished the booth formed a more substantial cage around her.

"Look, I don't have time to haggle; I want to watch the execution. Forty-five, and I'll take his option."

"Toba hesitated for barely a moment. "Done."

The woman melted into the crowd, with a final intrigued glance at Farr.

Dura reached out of the booth-cage and touched Toba's arm. "Ten years?"

"That's the standard condition."

"And the work?"

Toba looked uncomfortable. "It's hard. I'll not try to hide that. They'll put him in the Bells... But he's strong, and he'll survive it."

"And after he's too weak to work?"