“You’re still getting this trash?” he asked at last in an amused tone, touching the folded newspapers Efor had set on the table.

“Efor brings them.”

“Does he?”

“I asked him to,” Shevek said, glancing at Pae, a split-second reconnoitering glance. “They broaden my comprehension of your country. I take an interest in your lower classes. Most Anarresti came from the lower classes.”

“Yes, of course,” the younger man said, looking respectful and nodding. He ate a small bite of honey roll. “I think I’d like a drop of that chocolate after all,” he said, and rang the bell on the tray. Efor appeared at the door. “Another cup,” Pae said without turning. “Well, sir, we’d looked forward to taking you about again, now the weather’s turning fine, and showing you more of the country. Even a visit abroad, perhaps. But this damned war has put an end to all such plans, I’m afraid.”

Shevek looked at the headline of the topmost paper: IO, THU CLASH NEAR BENBILI CAPITAL.

“There’s later news than that on the telefax,” Pae said. “We’ve liberated the capital. General Havevert will be reinstalled.”

“Then the war is over?”

“Not while Thu still holds the two eastern provinces.”

“I see. So your army and Thu’s army will fight in Benbili. But not here?”

“No, no. It would be utter folly for them to invade us, or us them. We’ve outgrown the kind of barbarism that used to bring war into the heart of the high civilizations! The balance of power is kept by this kind of police action. However, we are officially at war. So all the tiresome old restrictions will come into effect, I’m afraid.”

“Restrictions?”

“Classification for research done in the College of Noble Science, for one thing. Nothing to it, really, just a government rubber stamp. And sometimes a delay getting a paper published, when the higher-ups think it must be dangerous because they don’t understand it!… And travel’s a bit limited, especially for you and the other non-nationals here, I’m afraid. So long as the state of war lasts, you’re not actually supposed to leave the campus, I believe, without clearance from the Chancellor. But pay no attention to that. I can get you out of here whenever you like without going through all the rigmarole.”

“You hold the keys,” Shevek said, with an ingenuous smile.

“Oh, I’m an absolute specialist in it. I love getting around rules and outwitting the authorities. Perhaps I’m a natural anarchist, eh? Where the devil is that old fool I sent for a cup?”

“He must go down to the kitchens to get one.”

“Needn’t take half the day about it. Well, I won’t wait. Don’t want to take up what’s left of your morning. By the way, did you see the latest Bulletin of the Space Research Foundation? They print Reumere’s plans for the ansible.”

“What is the ansible?”

“It’s what he’s calling an instantaneous communication device. He says if the temporalists—that’s you, of course—will just work out the time inertia equations, the engineers—that’s him—will be able to build the damned thing, test it, and thus incidentally prove the validity of the theory, within months or weeks.”