"Coming, yes. Forming, no. If the pressure goes up or down fast, over a day or so, there's a storm forming. Lets you impress hell out of the citizens. This is classified, of course."

The Grad asked, "Where does the tree go from here?"

"Out of this rain. Then on to Brighton Tree; they haven't seen us in a while. Grad, you'll get a good chance to look the bud colonies over and pick and choose among them."

"For what, Kiance?"

"For your children, of course."

The Grad laughed. "Klance, how am I going to have children if I spend my life at the Citadel?"

"Don't you know about the Holidays?"

"I never heard of them."

"Well, every year's-end, when Voy crosses in front of the sun, the copsiks all get together at the treemouth. It's holiday for six days while the copsiks mate and gossip and play games. Even the food comes from the out tuft. The Holidays start in thirty-five days."

"No exceptions? Not even for a Scientist's Apprentice?"

"Don't worry, you'll go," Klance chuckled.

Lawn had turned away, showing her bowed back, the wealth of blonde hair floating around her. He wondered then: How would Lawn have children? The Scientist didn't seem to be her lover; the Grad knew that he imported copsik women from the in tuft. If she never left the Citadel-How would Lawri ever find a man?

Me?

A copsik could have children, but Lawn could not. It couldn't be helped. He dared not think of Lawri as other than an enemy.

There was flesh against her as she woke. It happened often. Minya shifted position and refrained from wrapping her arms around the citizen who slept beside her. She might hurt him.

Her motion wakened him. He turned carefully-his arm was bound with cloth against his torso-and said, "Good morning."

"Good morning. How's your arm?" She searched her memory for his name.

"You did a good job on it, but it'll heal."

"I wondered why you came looking for me, given that I broke it."

He scowled. "You stuck in my head. While Lawn was setting the bone I kept seeing your face, two ce'meters away with your teeth bared like you were going for my throat next . . . yeah. So I'm here." The scowl relaxed. "Under, eh, different circumstances."

"Better now?"

"Yes."

His name surfaced. "Karal. I don't remember a Lawri."

"Lawri's not a copsik. She's the Scientist's Apprentice-one of his apprentices, now-and she treats Navy men if we get hurt."

One of his apprentices? Minya gambled. "I hear the new one is a copsik."

"Yes. I saw him from a distance, and he's not a jungle giant. One of yours?"

"Maybe." She stood, donned her poncho. "Will we meet again?"

He hesitated-"Maybe"-and added, "The Holidays are eight sleeps away."

She let her smile show through. Gavvingl "How long do they last?"

"Six days. And all work stops."

"Well, I have to get to work now."