Debby dropped back. Raym was telling Rather, "It isn't the dark that bothers you, it's the thick. Your eyes get used to the light in there. It's kind of gray, and the colors bleach out. I never heard of a diver getting wrecked unless he was a damn fool, because things don't move fast in there. But you can't move fast either. You drift. Sometimes you get lost, you forget which way is out. You come out never knowing how many days you were in."

Rather asked, "Why do you-?"

"Credit. On a bad trip you only come out with mud, but Zakry pays high for mud. A good trip, you can come out with your hull covered with blackbrain or walnutcushion or fringe." Raym grinned, and Debby realized what it was that bothered her about Adjeness's toothy smile.

Rather said, "This makes you-"

"No. You never hold onto it."

"-Rich?"

Teeth. Raym was an older man, yet he still had half his teeth. Adjeness must be Debby's age, but her smile was all teeth, with only three or four gaps. The rest were youths: no teeth missing at all.

Angular huts surrounded her. Debby fought vertigo. Down in all directions; no tide. The Admiralty crew were forming a line as Carlot led them toward a huge transparent cylinder. They had flown all their lives. Their grace made Debby feel clumsy.

Debby eased into line behind Rather. The starstuff cylinder had an opening at one end. Debby brushed it with her wings as she went through. None of the others did.

Chapter Fifteen

Half Hand's

from the Citizens Tree cassettes, year 80 SM:

WE'VE FOUND A FUNGUS WITH IMPORTANT MEDICINAL PROPERTIES . . .

WOODSMAN'S DOOR HAD BEEN BRACED HOSPITABLY open. A guest need only grip the rounded edge as he flew past, set his wings in the racks, and swing himself in. Booce entered an atmosphere rich with blackbrain tea.

Jonveev Belmy was a small woman, not much more than Clave's height. Booce had watched her auburn hair turn gray over the years, but it was still long and thick. She was busy at a turning cookglobe. She stretched a foot to meet Booce's hand.

Her grip was strong. "Booce, I'm so sorry about Wend. Is Ryllin all right?"

"She's fine, Jonveev. We're doing business with Citizens Tree, and that's where she is now." He wondered what Jonveev was thinking. Her concern was real, of course; but she had never dealt with Booce himself. In business matters Ryllin and Jonveev did the talking.

Jonveev swung the big globular teapot round her head to settle the water, then quickly opened the spigot. Steam puffed. Hilar wrapped the teapot in cloth and passed it to Booce. "I never saw a log come home like that. Do you want to talk about it?"

Booce sipped and swallowed. He liked his tea hot, and this was just off the boil. He savored old memories as much as the powerful, bitter taste. He said, "Not a lot-"