Making up for lost time? Making up what? Life has become a dream, Hissune thought. And there is no one who can speak it for me.

In the hallway outside the Coronal's suite, Sleet caught him suddenly by the wrist and pulled him close.

Hissune sensed the strange power of the man, the taut energies coiled within him.

"Just to tell you, boy—I meant no personal enmity, when I spoke so harshly to you in there."

"I never took it that way."

"Good. Good. I want no enmity with you."

"Nor I with you, Sleet."

"I think we'll have much work to do together, you and I, when the war comes."

" If the war comes."

Sleet smiled bleakly. "There's no doubt of it. But I won't fight that battle with you all over again just now.

You'll come over to my way of thinking soon enough. Valentine can't see trouble until trouble's biting at his boots—it's his nature, he's too sweet, has too much faith in the good will of others, I think—but you're different, eh, boy? You walk with your eyes open. I think that's what the Coronal prizes the most in you. Do you follow what I say?"

"It's been a long night, Sleet."

"So it has. Get some sleep, boy. If you can."

9

The first rays of morning sun touched the ragged gray muddy shore of southeastern Zimroel and lit that somber coast with a pale green glow. The coming of dawn brought instant wake-fulness to the five Liimen camped in a torn, many-times-patched tent on the flank of a dune a few hundred yards from the sea.

Without a word they rose, scooped handfuls of damp sand, rubbed it over the rough, pockmarked gray-black skin of their chests and arms to make the morning ablution. When they left the tent, they turned toward the west, where a few faint stars still glowed in the dark sky, and offered their salute.

One of those stars, perhaps, was the one from which their ancestors had come. They had no idea which star that might be. No one did. Seven thousand years had passed since the first Liiman migrants had come to Majipoor, and in that time much knowledge had been lost. During their wanderings over this giant planet, going wherever there might be simple menial jobs to perform, the Liimen had long since forgotten the place that was their starting point. But someday they would know it again.

The eldest male lit the fire. The youngest brought forth the skewers and arranged the meat on them.

The two women silently took the skewers and held them in the flames until they could hear the song of the dripping fat. In silence then they handed the chunks of meat around, and in silence the Liimen ate what would be their only meal of the day.

Silent still, they filed from the tent, eldest male, then the women, then the other two males: five slender, wide-shouldered beings with flat broad heads and fierce bright eyes arrayed in a triple set across their expressionless faces. Down to the edge of the sea they walked, and took up positions on a narrow snub of a headland, just out of reach of the surf, as they had done every morning for weeks.