The suds left her skin feeling strange, tingly. Minya had little trouble stepping into the poncho despite its being sealed between the legs; but it did seem uncomfortably loose. Was it made for the elongated jungle people? It bothered her more that she wore tuftberry-red. Copsik-red here, citizen-red at home. She had worn purple too long.

Their escorts abandoned them at the serving table. Four cooks- more of the elongated women-ladeled a stew of earthlife vegetables and turkey meat into bowls whose rims curved inward. Minya and Jinny settled themselves into a resilient arm of foliage and ate. The fare was blander than what she was used to in Dalton-Quinn Tuft.

Another copsik settled beside them: two and a half meters tall, mid-

cue-aged, walking easily in London Tree's tide. Sile spoke to Jinny.

"You look like you know how to walk. You from a tree?" Jinny didn't answer. Minya said. "A tree that came apart. I'm Minya

Dalton-Quinn. This is Jinny Quinn."

The stranger said, "Heln. No last name, now."

"How long have you been here?"

"Ten years, or something like. I used to be Carther. I keep expecting well."

"Rescue?"

Heln shrugged. "I keep thinking they'll try something. Of course they couldn't, then. Anyway, I've got kids now."

"Married?"

Heln looked at her. "They didn't tell you. Okay, they didn't tell me either. The citizens own us. Any man who wants you owns you."

"I . . . thought it was something like that." She moved her eyes only, toward the shadows at the outskirts. And they'd watched her naked-"What are they doing, making their selections?"

"That's right." Hem looked up. "Eat faster if you want to finish." Two shadowy men were coming toward them, drifting at leisure along the interlocked branchlets that formed the ground.

Minya watched them while she continued eating. They paused several meters away, waiting. Their ponchos fit more closely than hers and were a riot of colors. They watched the women and talked. Minya heard "-one with the bruises broke Karal's-"

Hein ignored them. Minya tried to do the same. When her bowl was empty, she asked, "What do we do with these?"

"Leave them," HeIn said. "If no man takes you, take it back to the cooks. But I think you'll have company. You look like citizens, the men like that." She grimaced. "They call us 'jungle giants.'"

Too many changes. Three sleeptiines ago, no man in her local universe would have dared to touch her. What would they do to her if she resisted? What would Gavving think of her? Even if they could escape later- If she strolled toward the treemouth now, Minya thought, would anyone stop her? She'd be "feeding the tree." A short sprint past the treemouth would put her into the sky before anyone could react. She'd been lost in the sky and survived . .

But how could she alert Gavving to jump too? He might not have the chance. He might think it was a mad idea.