It was mad. Minya dropped it. And the men strolled over to join

them.

The Grad's first meal at the Citadel was simple but strange. He was

given a gourd with a fair-sized slot cut in it, and a squeezegourd for liquids, and a two-pronged wooden fork. Thick stew, shipped from the

out tuft, had cooled by the time it reached the Citadel. He could recognize two or three of the ingredients. He wanted to ask what he was

eating, but it was Klance who asked the questions.

One of the first was, "Were you taught medicine?"

"Certainly." The word was out of his mouth before his mind quite

caught up.

Lawri looked dubious. Kiance the Scientist laughed. "You're too young to be so sure. Have you worked with children? Injured hunters? Sick women? Women carrying guests?"

"Not with children. Women with guests, yes. Injured hunters, yes.

I've treated malnutrition sicknesses. Always with the Scientist supervising." His racing mind told him what to tell Klance. In fact he had

worked with children; he had inspected a pregnant woman, once; he had set the bone in dave's leg. The old copsik runner won't let me practice on citizens, will he? He'll try me out on copsik~ first! My own people...

Klance was saying, "We don't get malnutrition here, thank the Checker. How did you come to be found in a jungle?"

"Inadvertently." Eating strange food with strange implements in free-fall took concentration. Not letting it make him sick took a distraction; the Grad was glad for the chance to talk. He ate what he was given and told the tale of Quinn Tribe's destruction.

The Scientist interrupted with questions about Quinn Tuft, treemouth tending, musrums, flashers, the duinbo, the moby, the insects at the tree median. Lawn seemed fascinated. She burst in only once, demanding to know how one fought swordbirds and triunes. The Grad

referred her to Minya and Gavving. Maybe she'd let them know where

he was.

The meal ended with a bitter black brew which the Grad refused, and he continued to talk. He was hoarse when he finished.

Kiance the Scientist puffed at his pipe-shorter than the one the Quinn Chairman had used-and clouds of smoke drifted sluggishly about the room and out. The room was more a cage of timber than a hut, there were narrow windows everywhere, and boards would swing

to cover them. Klance said, "This giant mushroom bad hallucinogenic properties, did it?"

"I don't know the word, Klance."

"The red fringe made you feel strange but nice. Maybe that was the reason they were protecting it?"

"I don't think so. There were too many of those fan fungi. This one was big and nicely formed and had a special name."

"The Checker's Hand. Jeffer, have you ever heard that word Checker before?"

"My grandmother used to say, 'Treefeeder must think he's the Checker himself,' when she was mad at the Chairman. I never heard anyone else-"