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Chapter One

The music continued to cycle over the speakers on the bridge of the merchant ship Sibyl as she circled down through landing orbit around the blue and tan planet.

“Welcome, Dr. Shona Taylor!” sang the massed voices. “We bid welcome to you! We hope you’ll feel at home here!”

Everyone on the bridge was grinning except the subject of the song, a small woman with light brown hair, freckles, and wide hazel eyes. Shona sat in the copilot’s seat with her cheeks burning red. “I have never had anything like this happen in my entire life,” she said severely.

“You’re famous,” said Shona’s husband Gershom.

“I think it’s pretty,” said Lani, who dropped her eyes almost as soon as she spoke. The girl, now fifteen, had blossomed from the painfully shy ten-year-old they had adopted to a teenager who still preferred not to call attention to herself. That was growing more difficult by the day, as Lani’s dark, exotic beauty drew eyes to her everywhere she went. Shona was glad they had a large dog; even gentle Saffie might act as a deterrent.

“It’s embarrassing,” Shona said, gesturing at the console. “That’s not a computer synthesis. The waveform shows those are real voices. Someone wrote that song and assembled a group to sing it.”

“Sounds like the whole Dendebe Interstellar Madrigal Chorus,” Gershom said.

“Do you think they’re down there?” asked Eblich eagerly. The ship’s navigator, a slight, shy man, enjoyed classical music.

“No chance,” grunted Ivo, the ship’s engineer, a big, dark-skinned man. “But they got somebody who knows how to sing harmony. Lots of somebodies.”

“Ka-ching,” Gershom said, lifting his broad shoulders in a half-apologetic shrug to his wife. “We knew these people were very wealthy. If they choose to spend their credits in an expensive greeting to you, that’s their business. Although I’d like it more if they used it to take some of our cargo.”

Kai, the storesmaster, just grunted. “Not much chance, since we’re confined to the spaceport, except for offloading Shona’s module.”

“How come they’re not singing about me?” Fear of being the cynosure of all eyes was not young Alexander Taylor’s problem. At five he was as outgoing as a politician at polling time. Freckled and fair like his mother, he was going to have his father’s rangy build, but at the moment he was at the cobby stage that meant he was saving up for another growth spurt.

“They want to welcome your mother because she’s the one they hired,” Gershom explained to his pouting son. “They didn’t mention me, either, did you notice?”

The full lips relaxed a little. “No …”

His younger sister, dark-haired and hazel-eyed, was determined not to be left out, either. She climbed up on Shona’s lap and made a try for the comm-unit’s microphone. Shona beat her to it. “Don’t touch, Jilly-flower. Mommy’s got to talk to ground control.”

Gershom lifted a dark eyebrow at her reluctant tone. “Do you want me to do it?”

“No, thank you, sweetheart,” Shona said, steeling herself and hoping the color had faded from her face. “I’m the one who’s going to have to face these people daily for six months. And I am grateful that they’re so glad to have us. This is Dr. Shona Taylor,” she said into the pickup. Ignoring the grins of the rest of the crew, she continued. “Thank you for the wonderful welcome. May we have landing instructions, please?”

“Strap down,” Gershom instructed the children. “We’re going in.”

* * *

After the chorus, Shona was surprised that only one person was waiting for her. A young woman with a shy, eager smile approached almost as soon as the airlock door popped open, and grasped Shona’s hands.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed. She had short brown hair, similar to the color of Shona’s own, but her eyes were brown instead of hazel, and she stood about five centimeters taller than Shona’s 157. “I’m Dwan Sands. It’s so nice to meet you at last! Welcome to Jardindor!”

“Thank you,” Shona said, glancing around. The Sibyl’s shuttle had come to rest in the small spaceport. Unlike most colonies, Jardindor’s landing pad was very close to the living quarters. The landing pad was enclosed in a blast shield so advanced that Mars Dome would have been proud to own it.

On the other side of the clear barrier Shona could see houses. The spaceport, filled with small personal craft and one or two large transports, formed one side of a square. The landscape stretched out into the distance, and if perspective was to be believed, those houses were veritable mansions, covering acres of land. After the constricted quarters of a working starship, and the domes of Mars where she had been brought up, it was an almost ostentatious use of land. Above it all she could see handsome distant mountains in muted bronze and purple. She found the yellowish quality of the light odd, unlikely given Jardindor’s blue-white dwarf sun, but she assumed it was a trick of the gravity generators, or the chemicals or biomass that was transforming the rest of the fiercely terraformed planet. The perspective also changed oddly as she turned her head, as though the atmosphere magnified the distance unevenly.

Never in her life had she landed at a spaceport so beautifully landscaped. Topiary evergreens formed a screen along the perimeter, shielding the buildings they’d seen from overhead from view at ground level. Probably gave them some extra relief from the hubbub of a working spaceport. But the plants were more than sound barriers. Not a single twig ruined the outline of birds, animals, even insects carved in a living frieze of green. Along the inner wall someone had planted a string of small gardens that were riotously colorful in their abundance. Shona drank in the vivid reds, oranges, even blues, of the blossoms, all welcome sights after the blackness of space and the sameness of the Sibyl’s white enamel interior. She could hardly drag her eyes back to her hostess. “This is a beautiful place.”

Dwan smiled. “You sound surprised. I know. Some people think we fake the scenery when we send out tri-dees of the colony, but why would we? It’s not as though we’re trying to attract anyone’s attention.”

Shona knew that was true. Once the offer had arrived on her comm-unit asking her to take over as locum tenens for Jardindor’s vacationing physician, she’d had a hard time locating any information on Jardindor at all. Her dearest friend, Susan MacRoy, had tracked down some data, and suddenly Shona had understood why: Jardindor was one of the wealthiest private colonies in the entire galaxy.

Once EarthGov had started licensing systems that had Earth-type planets, most of the contracts had gone to companies like the Galactic Laboratory Corporation and other megacorporations that were capable of populating whole planets out of their workforce. But some had gone to private concerns, and Jardindor was one of these. Susan’s encoded message had given Shona a pretty good idea why they’d been approved. Every family on Jardindor was wealthy enough in its own right to buy a whole planet, let alone settler’s rights to a barely viable planet on the far edge of current shipping lanes. They liked their privacy, and kept news of their world hard to get.

“How large is the M-class area here?” Gershom asked Dwan. The summing look on his face told Shona he was estimating how much the colony might need in the way of fertilizers, exotic plants, or ornamental or food crop seed, not to mention building materials or luxury goods to enjoy on those estates. She grinned. Once a merchant, always a merchant.

Dwan’s lips tightened for a moment. “That’s not really considered a polite question to ask,” she said. “It’s a good thing you didn’t say it in front of the leaders. Governor Hethyr doesn’t like to comment on the work in progress.”

“Whatever you say,” Gershom said, with a friendly smile. “I was just curious. What do you folks do for fun? I have good connections for the latest sports equipment and the best console games. Depends on your tastes.”

“You’ll have to talk to Hethyr,” Dwan said firmly. “Let me show you where you’re going to be living. You must have received the inoculations.”

“Yes,” Shona said, and was again struck how organized this colony appeared to be. “It certainly saved us a great deal of trouble. The children will be able to fit in at once—and thank you for allowing me to include them on this posting—and my animals won’t have to be quarantined at all.”

“Yes, your animals,” Dwan said, her brown eyes lighting up. “You brought all of them with you?”

“Of course,” Shona replied, surprised by the eagerness of her tone. “Your contract was quite specific. May I ask why?”

“Well …” Dwan seemed a bit embarrassed. “We like animals here. Um, is the ottle still with you? I would love to meet him.”

Alien Relations would have had ninety-five fits at Dwan’s casual knowledge, but it was hardly a secret that Shona had an ottle in her household. The small extraterrestrials excited comment wherever they went, and the terms of Shona’s hosting contract specified that firstly, her visitor was allowed to go wherever he wished, and secondly, she had to accompany him. Given the rarity of ottles and their natural outgoing personalities it was impossible for him not to attract attention, even if there hadn’t been galaxy-wide attention drawn to the Taylor ménage over the last few years. Shona, Chirwl, and the rest of her family had been in the tri-dee news during both the scandal over the genocide in GLC colonies that had almost cost her daughter Lani her life, and in Shona’s subsequent involvement with renegade scientists on Poxt, the ottle homeworld.

Shona gave a dry chuckle. “You’ll hardly be able to avoid Chirwl,” she said. “He’s looking forward to exploring this settlement. Oh! I’d better let him out of his crash cage. He hates landings.”

Dwan followed them into the Sibyl. The crew had unstrapped from their own couches and were letting the kids out of theirs. Dwan stopped to kneel beside Alex and Jill. Alex expanded at once in the regard from an interested adult. Jill put her finger in her mouth and went wide-eyed. Lani, as usual, had retreated in the presence of a stranger to the shadows behind the crew. Shona went past them through the narrow metal corridor to the door of her lab.

The white enamel-covered, oblong module fit into any one of the three holds of the ship, and would be left behind when the Sibyl launched again. The module had been a gift to her from GLC—a guilt gift, Gershom had pointed out. Maintaining one herself was costly, but Shona felt it made her a more competent physician. As an environmental physician, often by the time she arrived on the scene she found patients needed her immediate attention. There wasn’t time to putter around in boxes looking for supplies or equipment. Because the module was made to plunge through atmosphere to the surface on its own where the ship could not land, everything was lined with thin but effective impact foam, and the kennels for her animals were supported by hydraulic gyros to absorb the rigors of landing.

“You won’t have a heavy workload,” Dwan assured her, following her in. “We’re very healthy here. We exercise a lot and we practice natural wellness. There’s a hot spring spa, a health club, automasseuse, meditation gardens. We walk, we play tennis, we swim. You’re welcome to use our facilities. The children, too.”

“I’d enjoy that,” Shona said, with pleasure. “It’s going to be nice to have a straightforward assignment as a colony doctor. You would be surprised at some of the situations I’ve had—” She stopped as Dwan chuckled. “Oh, maybe not. We have been all over the tri-dee news. I didn’t go looking for notoriety, you know.”

“I know,” her hostess said, with a rueful smile of understanding. “But it did mean we knew a lot about you in advance. Who’s making all that noise?”

Shona sighed and unlatched the first compartment.

Her fox-colored Abyssinian cat, Harry, leaped out of the cage as soon as the crash cushions were out of the way. With an untranslatable comment, he stalked past Dwan to his feeding station, stared at his mistress, and waited.

“Not yet, you greedy brute,” Shona said, moving to unlatch the lower compartment, where Saffie waited patiently for liberty. The black dog shook herself thoroughly then came to sniff Dwan’s outstretched hand. The Jardindorian woman’s face was transformed with joy as she stroked the dog’s thick fur.

“She’s gorgeous,” Dwan breathed. Saffie, hearing a friendly voice, tilted up her great head and slurped the visitor’s face with a long pink tongue.

“Thank you,” Shona beamed. She loved Saffie so much she enjoyed it when other people adored her on sight.

“She is a genuine Bernese mountain vaccine dog? Pedigreed?” Dwan pressed, looking the dog over carefully.

“Yes,” Shona said. She watched her visitor with growing curiosity. “Pedigreed and patented. The Bernese seemed to take the genetic alteration better than some lines.”

Dwan seemed on the edge of finishing the phrase with her. “And you never had her spayed, is that right? She’s still fertile?”

Shona cocked an eyebrow, wondering if she was going to have to formulate a polite refusal. How awkward when she had just arrived for a long assignment. Saffie’s bloodlines were spoken for, and she had no means of negotiating otherwise. “You haven’t got a male Bernese here, have you?”

“Oh, no! I couldn’t afford a really good pedigreed dog. We just like animals. I go running every morning with my greyhound. If you’d like, she could come with us once in a while. I’d love that.” Dwan scratched Saffie’s head, making the dog close her big brown eyes and croon. Harry, jealous, came over, smacked Saffie in the nose with a paw, and rubbed against Dwan’s leg.

Shona relaxed. Her experiences had made her so jumpy she was seeing challenges and problems where there weren’t any. Dwan was just enthusiastic. It’d be nice for Saffie to have someone else to take walks with beside the family.

The Harvard cancer mice and the pair of lop-eared rabbits had withdrawn to the safety of the chewed mass of fluff in the corner of each of their compartments. They ignored Shona as she checked their water dispensers. The last protective enclosure was adapted from the shipping container for a delicate piece of laboratory equipment that was about the size of a medicine ball, leaving plenty of room for the inhabitant and his possessions. Shona flipped back the lid and extracted from it a large leather pouch with a loop on the top. A hook on one wall had been mounted there to accommodate the tree-dwelling alien. Shona hung up the pouch, flipped back the top flap, and peered in.

“It’s safe,” she said. “We’re down. You don’t have to go through that again for six months.”

“A mild landing I enjoyed,” chittered a high-pitched voice. Chirwl swarmed up out of the opening. “Not rough so the module by itself. Relief.” He blinked his round black eyes at her.

“Chirwl, this is Dwan Sands,” Shona said, as her new friend stared open-mouthed. Ottles, named by their human discoverers because they were about the same size as Earth otters but with round, flattened bodies like turtles, were still rarely seen anywhere but their homeworld, Poxt. They had sable-brown fur; small, round ears; long vibrissae around their sharp-toothed mouths; clever little hand-paws capable of delicate manipulation; and short, thick tails that ended in a point, suitable for a species that spent as much time in its homeworld’s rivers as it did in the forests that flanked them.

Ottles, intelligent and inquiring, were pleased to meet other species. An entirely non-technological race, they were fascinated by human beings and their symbiosis with machines. They elected to send a few of their number out into human-settled space as observers and ambassadors. Alien Relations, the Galactic Government’s department set up to safeguard them, put all potential ottle hosts through a thoroughgoing examination to ensure that they would not exploit their charges, and would allow them the scope to observe human behavior as they saw fit. Shona felt herself privileged to have been chosen for the program, and knew she’d made a friend as well. On Poxt, Chirwl was a philosopher. He had been working for years on his theory of humankind, the notes for which he inscribed with his very sharp claws on an endless series of tiny, round tiles of wood. He must have been working on his thesis during the landing. Some of the rejected chips now littered the inside of his crash couch. Shona scooped them up and put them in the pocket of her tunic. He could sort them later.

“Most pleased,” Chirwl said, transferring the blink to Dwan and scanning her up and down with his round black eyes. “Born here were you?”

“Nothing like diving right into personal information,” Shona scolded him. “You’re losing your grip on your manners.”

“No, it’s all right,” Dwan said. She studied the little alien as closely as he was studying her. “No, I wasn’t born here. My parents are on Earth. I live here with my husband and our children. Please come and see your new home,” she said, collecting the whole group in a glance. “Do you need help … oh,” she paused, as Chirwl clambered down the wall. He seemed to be clinging to nothing, but his sharp claws actually were embedded in artificial handholds almost too small for the human eye. There was little in nature that an ottle couldn’t climb, but perfectly smooth manmade materials defeated him.

“Carriage is not needed,” Chirwl said cheerfully. “My friend Saffie obliges.” He swarmed up onto the waiting dog’s back. Saffie didn’t really like being a pack animal, but she did it patiently for the ottle. Shona gave her a scratch behind the ears for thanks.

Dwan gestured to them to climb into an open four-wheeled car with three bench seats ahead of an open cargo area.

“You don’t use flitters?” Gershom asked.

“There’s only one here,” Dwan said. “It belongs to the governor’s son. We prefer to use nonpolluting means of transportation. These carts are comfortable, and I think they harken back to a more gracious age, don’t you?”

Gershom held firmly to their two smaller children’s hands as they left the spaceport. The landscaping gave them a feeling of coziness and intimacy. Along the outer edge of the high evergreen wall, little nooks had been carved into the evergreens with benches or pairs of seats, all of them vacant, though on one bench a real paper book had been left open and turned upside down to mark its place as though the reader had stepped away for just a moment.

Shona took a deep breath of the delicious, resin-scented air. “So different from being aboard ship,” she said. “I love space travel, but filters can’t duplicate a real planetary atmosphere.”

“Reminds me of some of the parks on Earth,” Gershom mentioned, as Dwan led them over a delicate humpback bridge that crossed a chattering stream.

“How nice of you to notice,” Dwan said, happily. “This part is meant to look like Kensington Gardens in old London. That part over there,” she pointed toward the other side of the spaceport, “is meant to be like Portland. You can see that the observation tower looks like a lighthouse?” Shona nodded blankly. She’d only seen one part of Earth as a tourist; the rest of her experience had been its ports where they picked up cargo. “The ground drops away into a valley on the far side of the field. It looks perfect from the other side.”

Shona and Gershom exchanged glances. The plant life in the two gardens were distinctly different, meaning that each group had been imported especially for its location, and probably from the original source. These were, as Susan had put it, seriously rich people.

Saffie, with Chirwl clinging to her back, elected to trot beside Dwan, whose long legs ate up the distance, leaving Shona to chug along behind as best she could with Harry in her arms. Lani stayed close beside her mother, holding Jill, who was goggle-eyed at the scenery. Alex, too, was unwilling to let go of a good listener, and trotted along on Dwan’s other side. Though they dropped farther and farther behind, Shona, Gershom, and Lani could still hear Chirwl’s shrill piping melded with Alex’s insistent soprano as they vied for Dwan’s attention. They exchanged grins.

The Taylors were happy to have a chance to take in the scenery without a narrator. The sky was blue with a faint hint of green, and long, narrow clouds scudded overhead. Harry kicked her in the chest with an impatient back foot. Shona recognized the action as a sign that his sensitive nose was detecting something. She raised her own nose to sniff, and coughed on the mouthful of foul air.

“Do you smell that?” Shona asked. “I wondered if I should have brought some filter masks out here.”

“Some kind of propylene esters,” Gershom said, after a moment. “I wonder where it’s coming from.”

“Isn’t the wild part of the planet rich in those?”

“Yes, but look around you,” Gershom said, with a low-key gesture meant to avoid attracting the attention of anyone who might be spying on them from the lush undergrowth. “This section is terraformed to Earth-grade—well above government standards. There should be no trace of toxic atmosphere here.”

“Unless someone has breached the force field,” Shona said, with alarm. “The entire colony could be poisoned if too many of those compounds are brought in here.”

“You can tell them that once you’re settled,” Gershom said. “It’s gone now. I think we’re there.”

Indeed, they were. Dwan waved to them from the top of the steps of a huge building. Its sides gleamed white like finest Earth-Italian marble, which indeed it might have been, and gold glinted from knobs, trim, and window frames. The central peaked roof was at least ten meters high. Flanking it were two smaller wings, bounded by a turret-like structure at each corner. More expensive landscaping framed this small castle, mostly roses. Shona sighed with delight at the vine-covered trellises covered with pink blossoms that ascended to upstairs windows and the neatly trimmed rose trees of every shade blooming in tidy beds.

“Dr. Setve said to make sure to tell you to use this place as your own,” Dwan said.

“It’s lovely,” Shona said. “How many other families live here?”

Dwan frowned, puzzled. “No one else lives here. It’s Setve’s place.”

“This is a one-family house? Never mind,” Shona said, waving her hand, as she recalled Susan’s excited messages about the settlers here. “It was a stupid question, really.”

“Both of us come from artificial-atmosphere environments,” Gershom explained. “To be able to build out in the air like this—well, it’s just a dream.”

“Ah,” Dwan said, nodding. “Let me show you around. You’ll love it. Setve has the most wonderful garden!”

“Ahem.” A low cough came from the shadows to the side of the verandah. Dwan’s mobile face became expressionless.

“Good afternoon, Finoa,” she said, stiffly.

“Good afternoon, Dwan,” the woman said, coming forward. Tall, with black hair, deep blue eyes, and a hawk’s beak nose in a long, narrow face, she offered an austere nod to Dwan. Turning to Shona she smiled pleasantly but formally. “I apologize deeply for intruding. I regret not allowing you time to settle in, but I require your assistance.”

She held up her arm. Her hand was wrapped in a cloth.

“Of course!” Shona exclaimed. “What happened?”

Finoa shot a look at Dwan, whose face reddened.

“I will let you have privacy,” the young woman said. Gershom cleared his throat. He bent courteously toward their hostess.

“Perhaps you can show me and the children the rest of the house. I like gardens.” Lani nodded eagerly.

“Indeed yes!” Chirwl exclaimed. “Plants and wildlife I crave the scent of.”

“I want to see my room!” said Alex. Jill just stared with her finger in her mouth.

“I … I’m afraid I can’t,” Dwan said hastily, backing away from them all. “I need to get home. I have a … treatment very shortly. But perhaps I may come back early tomorrow and take you around the colony?” She glanced at each of them, almost desperately, Shona thought. “There are so many things I want to show you, and tell you.” Shona was surprised at the stern look that Finoa shot her. Some past history, Shona decided. Or, remembering Jardindor’s reputation for privacy, some concern that Dwan was going to reveal personal information. They need not fear. As a doctor Shona was used to keeping confidences.

“We would enjoy having you come back,” Shona said warmly, taking Dwan’s hand. “Thank you for taking so much time with us.”

The young woman flinched as though embarrassed by the contact and retreated hastily down the steps. The moment she was out of sight Finoa seemed to relax, and smiled at Shona.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I know where Setve’s clinic is. May I show you?”

Shona glanced over Finoa’s shoulder at Gershom, who shrugged. He sat down on the top step and took a loop of string out of his pocket. Alex and Jill immediately scrambled into his lap to take their turns at cat’s cradle. Lani and Saffie sat down beside them. “Yes, thank you.”

“I should like to go, too,” Chirwl piped up. He scooted forward and looked up at the newcomer. “New laboratory of interest.”

“Not yet,” Gershom said, grabbing him by his short tail and hauling him back. Shona gave him a grateful look and followed her new patient inside.

* * *

“What a wonderful house,” Shona said, looking around her as Finoa guided her. “I’ve never seen so much wood in one place. My husband occasionally gets a shipment of furniture from Earth. This is all so lovely. Rosewood, and oak, and … my goodness, is that bird’s-eye maple? Wait until Gershom sees that!” Finoa said nothing, but continued to stalk silently onward with purpose. Shona chided herself for gawking when her patient was obviously in pain. She didn’t halt again.

They passed down a wide, broad-paneled corridor lit by skylights and shaped bulbs in ornate bronze sconces. Oil paintings lined the wall in between the windows, which gave a view of rolling lawns filled with flowers and discreet glimpses of statuary. “Oh! How delightful! Dwan was right about the garden.” Finoa didn’t reply.

The next door, to Shona’s everlasting relief, opened onto the clinic. Beyond a waiting room with button-back silk-upholstered couches was an examination room that might have been taken straight out of the latest catalogs. Shona recognized the equipment on the stainless-steel tables against the walls as state-of-the-art. Everything looked brand new, including the retorts and glassware. She just knew if she turned on the diagnostic computer beside the white examination couch that it would have every upgrade and all the newest programs. There was even a Nentnor incubator for tissue culturing. Dr. Setve must be able to afford the best. The room had obviously been made ready with Shona in mind. The ultraviolet sanitizer had a knee-pedal that was low enough for her to use, and a shelf filled with boxes of disposable gowns and gloves was placed within easy reach. A second door was set into the wall next to a wide window that overlooked the gardens.

As soon as the door shut behind them Finoa turned to look at her.

“I don’t mean to be rude, staring at all the furniture,” Shona said apologetically, gesturing Finoa to the white couch. “I hardly know what is considered polite to discuss. Every place I’ve ever visited is different. Everyone has a ‘no-go’ area, if you understand what I mean.”

“Perfectly,” Finoa said, with a sigh that was far removed from the formal stiffness she had displayed outside the clinic walls. She sat down, the expanse of white sterifoam padding compressing comfortably under her weight. “There are a lot of such ‘no-gos’ here, I am afraid you will find. It comes from our being such a small community.”

“Of course.” Shona put on a pair of translucent gloves and bent to unwrap Finoa’s wrist. The skin was abraded in a large patch on the inside of the arm. It had bled, but Finoa must have washed it before coming to see her. Shona cleaned it again and leaned in for a good look.

“Hmm, this looks nasty, but it’s really just a bad scrape. What were you doing when it happened?” Finoa hesitated. “All right, that’s one of those no-go topics. It’s inflamed. Did you come in contact with something that you know you’re allergic to?”

“No. Definitely not.” Finoa was positive.

“All right,” Shona said. “I’ll give you a general antibiotic against infection.” Finoa made a face.

“Must you? I hate to compromise my immune system over a scratch.”

The way she said it made Shona raise her eyebrows. “Certainly not, if you prefer. If you would like to assist your immune system in more natural ways, put a lot of onions and garlic in your evening meal, and have some for the next few days. Keep the injury clean, and everything should be all right. Come see me if it becomes hot or puffy.”

Finoa seemed relieved. “Thank you. You do understand. Setve did, but we weren’t sure his substitute would be flexible enough to recommend natural remedies.”

Shona nodded. “I’ve been in situations where there was nothing else, so believe me, I know there are many I can depend on. So, if I may ask a favor in return, what may we talk about in polite company? You don’t confine conversations to the weather and everyone’s health, do you? That would get old in the first hour, and I’ll be here for six months!”

Finoa laughed, the lines in her long face relaxing. “Heavens, no! Philosophy, art, the latest scientific findings, fashion. Politics, sometimes. News. Sports, always. Gardening. Tri-dee videos. That’s a big topic. Do you watch Poor Mother McGrew?”

“It’s my favorite show!” Shona exclaimed with delight. “Though I’m pretty sure I missed some of the thirty-sixth season. We get so busy that I forget to check the feeds.”

“I have them all,” Finoa said.

Shona’s eyes lit up. “I would love to catch up. May I borrow them?”

“Of course. It will be my pleasure.” With a little smile Finoa stood up, testing the dressing. “That feels much better. Thank you.”

A gong sounded over their heads. Shona’s puzzlement must have shown on her face, for Finoa explained, “That is Setve’s door signal. I believe you have another patient. I will go out the rear door, if you don’t mind.”

“As you please,” Shona said. “It’s been very nice meeting you.”

“I enjoyed it, too.” As she went out, Finoa’s face changed from the pleasant smile to the expressionless mask. The Jardindorians were private, all right, even down to their moods. Shona had only a moment to wonder how difficult it was going to be to fit in when another woman arrived. She was short and plump, her straight, dark hair cut to the nape of her neck. A thread or two of silver told Shona that the newcomer was not as young as her smooth skin suggested. The golden sweater she wore had a green overtone that went well with the hazel eyes set deep under straight dark brows.

“I beg your pardon,” the newcomer said, glancing at the open door ahead of her. “Were you busy?”

“I was just finishing,” Shona said, easily. She went to close the door, and the visitor relaxed. No one seemed to want to be seen accepting medical treatment. “How may I help you?”

“I was unable to meet you when you landed. I had an off-planet conference call I could not skip. I am Governor Hethyr Candell, the chief administrator here on Jardindor. Are you settling in well?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ve already seen a patient.”

“I know,” Hethyr said, her eyes glinting. “I met your husband on the doorstep. I am very glad you are here. I have need of your services, too.” She glanced down nervously. “I was … I was meditating when I felt unwell. I … well, I vomited.”

“Did the … matter look unusual in any way?” Shona asked tactfully.

Hethyr turned an amused eye to her. “About the same as it went down, I fancy. No.”

“Do you think you could be pregnant?”

“No.”

“I see,” Shona said. “On the way here my husband and I thought we smelled a heavy, cloying scent. If it’s what we thought, concentrated exposure could cause gastrointestinal cramping. Did you observe a strong chemical aroma before your stomach became upset?”

Hethyr frowned, eying Shona. “Perhaps I did smell something.”

“I can run a blood-gas analysis to see if you were exposed to a large dose,” Shona said. Hethyr hesitated. “Or I can get my cat. He’ll recognize if it was the same compound.”

“No, thank you,” Hethyr said. “I really don’t want to stay longer than necessary.”

“Let me check to see if it might have been good old food poisoning.” Shona had seen the swabs behind glass doors in the immaculate cabinets. She smiled at the governor as she leaned forward to take a sample of saliva. “I like your sweater,” she said, trying to put the rigid-backed woman at ease. “Real cashmere, isn’t it? I don’t mean to pry,” she added in surprise as Hethyr recoiled. “I love good fabrics. I had a cashmere wrap once.”

“Oh,” Hethyr said faintly, settling down. “Do you want this one?”

“No!” Shona exclaimed, mortified at the thought. “I was just admiring it.”

She swabbed the inside of Hethyr’s mouth and ran a quick check for botulism, salmonella, and the usual provocative bacteria. Again, she was impressed by Setve’s expansive array, and wished she could afford such fantastically elaborate and accurate equipment. Almost as soon as she had closed the lid of the computerized microscope, a reading rolled up on the screen.

“No unusual levels of any foreign chemicals. I could prescribe something for the stomach upset,” Shona began, and got the same expression of alarm as she had from Finoa. She changed her suggestion before it was spoken. “Some tea made with ginger and mint. They’ll settle your stomach. Not too much mint right before bedtime; it’s a stimulant.”

“I know that,” Hethyr said, with a touch of asperity that she quickly moderated. “I grow five kinds of mint in my own garden. I’ll use some apple mint. It’s nice to see that you know your job, Dr. Taylor.”

“Call me Shona, please. Thank you for the lovely song that was broadcast to us as I arrived. I didn’t get an opportunity to thank the chorus. Is it a community chorale group? My husband and I love to sing.”

Hethyr frowned. “No. Hired singers. As soon as they were finished we loaded them onto their ship and sent them off. They’ll have broken orbit by now. They were only contracted to be here until you arrived.”

Shona shook her head in amazed disbelief. Wait until Gershom heard that.

“We’re glad you have arrived. Your crew will be offered our hospitality until their departure. When will that be?”

“Most likely tomorrow,” Shona said. “Once my module is offloaded they have no reason to stay, unless there is something that the Taylor Traveling Medicine Show and Trading Company can do for you?” she added hopefully. “We have some fine products you might enjoy browsing over.” Hethyr nodded sharply.

“I’ve made an appointment with your husband for tomorrow at midday. Join us for lunch. I’ll send a car.”

“Thank you. I’d enjoy that. We both will.”

The door chime sounded again. Hearing it, Hethyr marched promptly out the rear door. Shona was reminded of an old-fashioned drawing-room comedy on tri-dee, and wondered if this happened when the regular doctor was on duty.

Before she had time to worry about it, her next patient arrived. A woman with a glorious head of wavy black hair and dark blue eyes who introduced herself as Shelia came in towing behind her a child with a fist crammed to his eye.

Shona snapped on a pair of fresh gloves and knelt down at the boy’s level with a swab. She didn’t need to put it into the fancy computer; she’d seen the same ailment a thousand times before. Darrlel had a common eye infection, one that children contracted often: pinkeye. This time she was firm, prescribing antibiotic eye drops.

“Otherwise he will be more miserable, and it will spread,” she told the unhappy mother. She spotted a touch of red in Shelia’s eyes. “You already have it. You’ll need to use this preparation, too. I will give you separate bottles and sterile eyedroppers. Wash your hands after each treatment.”

Shelia seemed dismayed not to be offered an herbal alternative, but she thanked Shona. Once more the patients hustled out the back when the signal sounded. Shona stripped her gloves and waited for her next caller.

This visitor was a man about forty. His dark hair had been streaked with gold over the temples, as though he couldn’t wait long enough to look naturally distinguished. Without introducing himself he held out a thumb. It bore a small red wound, which on closer examination Shona judged to be a pierce-mark.

“Thorn?” Shona asked, looking at the shape with a scope. “Or a tooth mark? A fang?”

“Thorn,” the man gritted out. Shona observed a few differences in the wound that suggested the man was lying to her. What on this planet had teeth that long? It didn’t matter; she could still treat it. There appeared to be no signs of infection or inflammation. She cleansed it thoroughly, dotted it with salve, and put a tiny dressing on it.

“It doesn’t need to be covered all the time, but the patch will keep dirt out of it while it heals,” she explained. Though the door chime didn’t sound again the man fled as soon as possible, glancing in the direction of the corridor as he did.

After he left, Shona waited, almost holding her breath. She peered out into the waiting room. No one was there. She let out a deep sigh. Impromptu office hours were over for now. She would have to ask someone, maybe Dwan, what Setve’s hours were. With the importance people here put on privacy, she couldn’t imagine the Jardindorians charging in and out of Setve’s house at all hours.

She rejoined Gershom at the front of the house and sank down beside him with a sigh of pleasure. A gentle breeze wafted the scent of vine flowers through the air. The children were playing tag with Saffie on the lawn. Harry and Chirwl were curled up in the window seat enjoying the last rays of sunshine.

“Four callers,” Gershom said, “out of a population of only a hundred or so. Dwan said they were healthy.”

“They are,” Shona said. She picked Harry off the window seat and draped him over her shoulder to stroke his fur with a meditative air. He began to purr, and Shona leaned her cheek against his side. “Most of what was troubling them they could have handled themselves. They were investigating to see whether I am worth the exorbitant fee they are paying us.”

“If they are going to keep you this busy, then it isn’t exorbitant, not even on a per hour basis,” Gershom commented with a wry grin. “There’s no industry on this planet. Everything is largely mechanized, including the housecleaning and landscaping. Perhaps visiting the doctor is what they do for a hobby.”

“A strange occupation,” Chirwl said, lolloping over to sit beside them. “Would you not receive too much medical?”

“With a good doctor, no,” Shona said, grinning at the earnest little alien. “One wouldn’t overprescribe, especially without knowing their histories. Come on, everybody. Let’s see the rest of the house, before someone else shows up.” Jill had fallen asleep on Lani’s shoulder. Gershom took the limp toddler from her and cuddled her. She sighed, her lips pink and soft in her sleep. Alex sprang up from where he was sitting on the lawn with Saffie.

“Any serious cases?” Gershom asked as they passed into the cool dimness of the house. He knew better than to ask about specifics.

“All trivial problems,” Shona assured him, feeling around on the wall near the door for light controls. Suddenly the overhead globes went on by themselves. Shona jumped. Sensors had either detected the fading of the light or the presence of humans who needed illumination. “Nothing they couldn’t have taken care of by themselves at home. I was tactful. I just listened in case they had something they wanted to tell me. Their regular doctor’s been gone about two weeks.”

“They’re just taking a close look at you,” Gershom said, with a little smile. “I think you’ll do very well. You can become the private physician to a tycoon any time.”

“They seemed unusually reserved,” Shona said, thoughtfully.

“Not surprising! Come along, let’s see your new home.”

Having been born on a distant colony world and brought up in the domes of Mars, Shona was fascinated by open-air construction. She’d always envied the people of Earth, who could build out or up as far as they liked, and never ran into retaining walls or glass barriers, not having to worry about gas-impermeable fittings. Her uncle’s home was spacious by Mars standards, but the entire house could have fit easily into the great room that lay just beyond the foyer.

“What does Dr. Setve use all this space for?” Lani asked, curiously looking at the fresco on the vast ceiling and the carved molding around the six wide windows that ran along the rear of the chamber. Her cabin on the Sibyl was eight-feet square.

“Perhaps he entertains a good deal,” Shona said.

“There are fewer than a hundred people on the whole planet,” Gershom pointed out. “This room could hold two hundred. More.”

“They like to spread out?” Shona shrugged. “Everyone has their own ideas about personal space. They have the room to indulge themselves. Chirwl! Get down from there!”

“Inspecting technique of design,” the ottle explained, from his vantage point clinging to the plaster molding at the top of the wall. “From below, much more realistic than at eyesight level.”

The entire house struck Shona as unreal. She and her family wandered from room to room admiring the decor and enjoying the luxurious feel underfoot of thick, soft carpet or smooth, polished wood. Shona opened a large exterior door leading off the examination room and found herself standing under a portico on a plain, plascrete pad.

“This doesn’t look as pretty as the rest of the house,” Lani said. “Isn’t it finished?”

“It’s finished, all right,” Gershom said, letting out a long, low whistle. “Look! It’s exactly the right size for Shona’s lab module. Power ports and disposal ducts in just the right places. They do know everything about us. I wonder if they got all this information from our credit history or tri-dee reporters.”

“They’re very considerate,” Shona said firmly, “Now, I want to see that garden!”

At the rear of the house, a clear-paneled door led out into a glass atrium surrounded on three sides by formal gardens. Most of the atrium was taken up by a broad pool with richly colored mosaic tile lining its sides. Shona found the arrangement unusual, since the sides of the pool sloped very gently down into four or five inches of water, then the bottom dipped sharply to several feet in depth. Saffie broke away from the group to smell all around it, her tail wagging enthusiastically. Harry bounded out of Shona’s arms to sniff, then backed away. His eyes were huge, and his narrow tail was puffed up to its maximum diameter.

“What’s so interesting in there, Harry?” Shona asked, alarmed at the cat’s antics.

“Such smells of excitement,” Chirwl chittered, translating. “My friend Harry is frightened, but Saffie is enjoying odors in mix.”

“Mixed what?” Shona asked, coming forward to take a sniff herself. “Chemicals?” She couldn’t smell anything beyond a faint hint of chlorine. Gershom examined the area, too, but shook his head. Shona picked Harry up and deposited him by the pool. The moment she put the cat down, he retreated to the corner, hissing. She could not coax him back. In the meanwhile, the dog was wading back and forth in the shallows, her nose skimming the surface of the water.

“What’s wrong? Chirwl, what does she smell?”

“Never have any of us scented of such nature,” the ottle said, in great excitement. “Saffie suspects violence.”

Shona looked around, but the room was empty. No traces of blood, no damage to the walls, no stains were visible.

“Well, whatever happened, it’s over,” she said. “Let’s go walk around the grounds before the sun is completely gone.”

With the setting of the sun, the air cooled significantly, leaving it feeling moist and rich. The broad walks had been turfed with a creeping mint that sent up a heavenly freshness wherever their feet passed. Lani stayed close to her parents, but Chirwl, the children, and the animals ran around the yard, breathing in scents and exploring. The three walked until the big house was out of sight among the trees and shrubs.

“This goes back a long way,” Shona said. “I wonder if the land is bounded by fences or markers. I don’t want to trespass on anyone else’s property. I don’t know what’s ours and what isn’t. I never thought to ask.”

“I have a lot of questions for your absent host,” Gershom said.

“So do I,” said Shona. “I didn’t think to ask the Jardindor government why Dr. Setve has taken leave. I am troubled about what Chirwl said, that Saffie scented violence. Has Setve gone away for treatment following an assault? Was he the one who attacked another in the pool house?” She shivered and folded her arms around herself. “There’s so much they’re not telling me.”

She suddenly felt as though she was being watched. Spinning around on her heel, she scanned the thick bushes.

“There,” Shona said, pointing. “Do you see that?”

“No,” Gershom said, puzzled.

“I saw a glint, like a pair of eyes watching me. I’m almost sure there’s someone in there. Hello!” she called. “Who is there?”

There was no answer. Shona started to push into the undergrowth, looking for the spy, but abruptly, Saffie was at Shona’s hip, shoving her back with her shoulder against Shona’s thigh. Her teeth were bared as she growled low in her throat. Gershom’s eyebrows went up, and he felt for his ship-knife, always in an upper pocket of his pants.

“It seems as though you are right,” he said, gathering up his family and guiding them back toward the big house. The sky had darkened to a deep blue and he could just barely see the path. “There was someone back there. I’m not sure I like the idea of leaving you here alone anymore.”

* * *

When they came back inside through the pool house, Saffie lifted her nose to sniff. So did Shona.

“I’m hallucinating,” she said. “I smell paprika and onions.”

“If you’re having a hallucination, so am I,” Gershom said. “It smells delicious.”

“I’m hungry,” Alex said, not unexpectedly. Shona gathered him up in her arms.

“Then let’s see where that wonderful aroma is coming from.”

They followed their noses a short distance to a swinging door. Behind it was a kitchen over twenty meters long, with every device, bell, and whistle for cooking that Shona had ever seen or heard of. The entire room had been fitted out with roboservers, the most sophisticated but unobtrusive kind, multijointed arms and fine-tuned sensors that could prepare a meal, serve at the table, and clean up, silently and efficiently. But the robotics were idle, folded away against the stainless-steel walls and copper-tiled ceiling. The delicious scent was coming from the broad wooden doors at the far end of the room. Alex wriggled down and dashed ahead, throwing the doors open.

“It’s a feast fit for a king,” he declared.

Shona smiled. The phrase was from a book she’d been reading the children at bedtime. “That’s about Emperor Charles,” she said, following her son. “Not us … oh, my! How wonderful.”

“It does look like a feast for a king,” Lani said softly.

A long, oval table had been draped with a silky, white damask cloth that made Shona rush to fondle a fold between her fingertips. It was thick and every bit as soft as it looked. Six places at the table were set with silver, china, and crystal that gleamed richly in the soft light from a complicated crystal chandelier. Fruit, candy, nuts, and flowers were arrayed on epergnes set at the foci of the ellipse, and a big basket of bread reposed in the middle of the table, an enticing edible centerpiece. The spicy scent was coming from the big tureen in the center of the table.

As they came closer the chairs moved away from the table.

“The furniture invites us,” Chirwl cried, intrigued. He scurried over to examine it minutely. “I see no mechanism, and smell only wood.”

“Maglev activators in the feet, responding to a plate under the floor,” Gershom explained. “I am very impressed. This is a full-service home. That would explain why the population can remain so low. There is no service class. Everything is electronic. I want to get a look at the whole-house computer.”

“It’s a little spooky,” Shona said. She picked up the tureen lid and inhaled, then tasted a fingertip’s worth of sauce. The red paste was delicious. “Mmm, Hungarian goulash. I wonder if it’ll choose what we’re going to eat for the next six months, or if we get a say? I hate being ruled by technology, even if it is a pretty good cook.”

“Enjoy it,” Gershom advised her, pushing her chair in once she was seated. “Before you know it, you’ll be lugging bed linens from our bunks to the sonic washer and wishing you were here.”

* * *

After dinner, Alex pleaded to be allowed to watch the roboservers clean-up. Shona could tell only excitement was keeping him awake. They sat on the floor at the side of the kitchen. Sure enough, as soon as the hum from the all-water dishwasher filled the room, the little boy swayed against his mother’s side. Jill was already drowsing in Gershom’s arms. Shona hefted her son and led the way to the stairs.

“My pouch I wish here,” Chirwl said, stopping at the mini-office on the landing. “A scholar’s suitable vantage point is appropriate.”

“If you like,” Shona agreed. “We’ll hang it up as soon as we put the little ones to bed.”

“Exotic,” Gershom said, walking into the first bedroom suite in the corridor. “This is obviously meant for Lani.”

“I see what you mean,” Shona said, pulling the shy girl in to see. Lani stopped on the threshold to stare, her huge, dark eyes wide with astonishment.

Delicate pinks and corals had been chosen as the colors for this suite of rooms. Hangings of sheer cloth muted the warm light from the enameled bronze pendant lamps in the dressing room. A low vanity table loaded with bottles Shona recognized as top-of-the-line cosmetics and perfumes offered an inviting padded seat. All of the bedroom furniture looked comfortable to sit on. Twin armchairs of a squashy, overstuffed, high-backed barrel design were large enough for her to sit in cross-legged. If Lani wanted to be invisible, all she had to do was turn the seat away from the door. A gleaming enameled-wood cabinet nearby, when opened, was full of books and music disks. Silk velvet pillows, some big enough to lounge on, were scattered all over. Harry immediately claimed the large one on the floor nearest the window, and settled himself upon it with paws curled under his breast. The bed itself was draped with translucent curtains. A tiny lamp beamed from within, and the lush coverlet was turned down to reveal huge, puffy pillows covered with shimmering silk.

“It’s beautiful,” Lani said. She put out a tentative hand to stroke the nearest pillow. “Soft.”

Shona kissed her on the cheek. “We’ll let you get settled. Come on, kids,” she declared, grabbing Alex before he could jump on Lani’s bed.

The Taylors had no trouble determining which rooms were intended for the smaller children. Two rooms, side by side with their own refreshers and a shared playroom, stood close to the master bedroom. Alex had a blue room full of roughhouse toys and padded corners, and a light yellow room furnished with stuffed animals and low play tables had been set up for Jill. Shona blessed the thoughtfulness of her employers. They put the sleeping toddler in the bed and raised the padded bumper hanging alongside the low, padded platform. To Shona’s relief, Jill didn’t wake up. After a bedtime story chosen from the tall bookcase beside his spaceship-shaped bed, Alex snuggled down and didn’t protest when Shona turned off the light and closed the door.

“I’ve never been so comfortable in my life,” she said, as she and Gershom settled down under a silver silk coverlet in the enormous master bed. “We couldn’t afford to stay in hotels like this. I almost feel lost in this bed. This room is larger than a cargo bay. To think I’m being paid to live here. I could get spoiled.”

Gershom looked up at the hangings in the bedroom. Everything was silk, and the mattress was fantastically comfortable.

“I wish I could give you all this,” he said wistfully.

“You know I’m perfectly happy with the life that we have,” Shona assured him. “The ship is ours, we’re not too far in debt right now, and this contract will put us ahead on Lani’s school tuition for next year. We have the life that we want. This”—she gestured at her surroundings—“seems so … ostentatious I’m almost afraid of it.”

“Well, I don’t want to start having feelings of inadequacy,” Gershom said, only half kidding.

“Oh, come here,” Shona said, playfully. “I’ll show you feelings of inadequacy!”

“So long as you don’t lose your taste for impecunious space merchants,” Gershom said, reaching for her.

“Never,” Shona promised, curling gladly into his arms. The familiar aroma of his warm skin mixed with the herb-scented sheets made a homey perfume she couldn’t get enough of. Feeling blissfully content, she looked up into his eyes. “I especially like the lanky kind with long black hair and dimples.”

Their lips met and melded. His hands started to run up and down along her body, and Shona responded to the caresses like a cat. Her fingers danced up his back and into the thicket of his long hair, pulling his head down beside hers. She enjoyed the feeling of being sandwiched between his warm weight and the silk beneath her. Seven years of marriage had not yet caused their lovemaking to pall. Each still found new delight in pleasing the other. Shona got as much delight from hearing him sigh at her loving attentions as she did from feeling him above, inside, and all around her.

* * *

Gershom dropped back against the luxurious pillows. “Mmm,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. “That was more than adequate.”

“That’ll have to keep you until you come to visit,” Shona said, running a finger down his ribs.

“How could it? But it’ll give me something to dream about,” Gershom said. He gathered her up in one arm and propped the other behind his head. Shona settled her head on his chest, listening to the familiar rhythm of his heart.

I am safe, she thought contentedly, as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

“Mama!”

The shriek jolted Shona bolt upright. She grabbed for her robe and stumbled out of the huge bed, feeling for the table lamp. The house computer, calculating that of the two people in the room one was still prone, brought up the lights to a low level that gave her enough illumination to find her way out to the hall. Saffie, asleep on the floor outside the door, scrambled to her feet and followed Shona. That was Jill crying. Where was she? How far away was her room? Shona didn’t know this house well enough yet. But a sharp line of yellow beneath one of the doors directed her to the right one.

It wouldn’t open at first. Shona raised her hands to pound on it, then the security lock clicked off as it seemed to recognize her as an authority, entitling her to enter. She rushed through, only to find the little girl huddled against the wall next to the door, pillow and blanket in a heap under her. Huge eyes wet with tears lifted to hers. Shona dropped to her knees and gathered her daughter in her arms. The dog, always sympathetic, put her great head in Jill’s lap.

“I couldn’t find you,” Jill wept, holding tightly to her mother. “I walked all the way around and around the ship, and no one was there in all of space.”

Shona kissed her on the head, rocking her until she calmed down. “It was a nightmare, darling. I think you were sleepwalking. You came all the way across the room. See?” She pointed at the disheveled platform, stuffed animals strewn across its surface. “It wasn’t real. We’re not on the ship. We’re on a planet. The ship is in the spaceport.”

“Can I sleep with you?” the child pleaded. “I’ll be very small.”

“Well … all right, but just for tonight,” Shona said.

Gershom, with all the instincts of a father, was wriggling back into his sleep shorts when they came in. Jill stared wide-eyed at the size of the bed, then curled up behind the pillows against the headboard, a neat little nest that only a three-year-old would find.

“Mama?”

Another little voice, this time from the doorway: Alex. “Honey, go back to bed.”

“Mama, I’m lonely. I want to come in with you and Papa.”

Gershom murmured from his pillow, “It’s a strange place. Let him stay.”

“All right,” Shona said, making room for him. “But you’ll have to get used to having your own rooms, all right? All right?” she asked, as Alex burrowed deeply into the quilt between his parents. He didn’t look up, but his head bobbed in a fierce nod. Shona kissed his dark curls. He was a courageous little boy. He’d make himself adapt.

Shona was just about to go back to sleep when she saw a slender silhouette near the door. Lani, clad in her shortie ship pajamas, clutching the peach-colored coverlet around her.

“I am sorry,” Lani said. “It is too big.”

“I think we all feel that way.” Shona patted the mattress beside her. “Come on, sweetheart. There’s plenty of room. I expect the animals will be joining us any time now.”

* * *

In the morning a gigantic flatbed transport arrived carrying Shona’s laboratory module. Gershom and his crew oversaw its attachment to the house, using the enormous crane on the truck. As he had predicted, the portable unit fit precisely upon the plascrete slab. Once it had been set down, rollers in the base allowed it to skim gently until it was snugged securely against the wall of the house. Smart-valves snaked out from the bottom to connect to the appropriate outlets for water, waste, communications, and power. Shona got a great deal of satisfaction from seeing all the systems installed and on green. She really felt then that she had arrived at her assignment. They went back to the house where breakfast was served for all nine of them, including Chirwl. The house had evidently detected the presence of animals, and provided bowls of some appropriate mashed mess for Harry and Saffie that the animals waded into with good appetite. Shona smelled the food and decided the robot cooks knew a lot more about what tasted good to cats and dogs than she did. Chirwl’s smelled much the same, but then he ate cat food when he had the chance.

“How pretty,” Lani said, pointing at the center of the table. Shona nodded approvingly. A sheaf of red lilies stood in a painted majolica vase. It went so perfectly with the decor that it seemed as though it had always been there.

“Exquisite,” she agreed. “The house brain has been programmed by someone with fabulous taste. But I didn’t see any flowers like that in the garden.”

“Maybe they came from a greenhouse,” Gershom suggested.

“I don’t remember seeing one,” Shona said. “Just a pool house.”

“They might be a gift,” Lani said. “People come and go.”

“That’s it,” Shona said, nodding at her husband. “But I wonder why Saffie didn’t tell us someone was here?”

Gershom grinned. “She was far too busy supervising us. I’ll beef up the house security system before I go.”

* * *

A royal blue enameled, four-wheeled open car arrived in front of the house precisely at noon. Leaving the children in Lani’s charge, Gershom and Shona climbed aboard.

“Very sweet,” Gershom said, bouncing up and down on the padding of the facing bench seats. He looked for a control panel, but found none. “Voice command or wireless control system run by a house computer. Here’s a hatch where the weather-dome is stowed. Hmm, nothing in the refreshment compartment, but there’s room for plenty. I bet you have a cart just like it tucked away in an outbuilding somewhere.”

“I bet Setve has six,” Shona said enviously, as they were whisked through the green paths to another mansion, this one made of blocks of ochre-gold stone that made it look cozy and quaint in spite of its size. Hethyr and her partner Dina made the Taylors welcome. A huge glass case full of antique porcelain decorated with the same royal blue as the cart stood in the entry hall. Shona couldn’t find words to describe their beauty. Hethyr waved a hand dismissively.

“Just things,” she said. “We like to have nice things around.”

As Shona expected, the food was produced by roboservers. The Candells chatted blithely while the arms reached down to place servings on every plate. As in the finest restaurants that used human waiters, the arms served from the left and removed dishes from the right. Seeing a mechanical hand reach around her made Shona jump the first couple of times, but thereafter she was able to ignore them as her hostesses did.

“I apologize for not allowing you time to relax after your journey,” Hethyr said, sipping wine. “I really did feel unwell yesterday. Thank you for confirming it was nothing to be concerned about. Dina insisted I go see you.”

“Hethyr is normally so healthy,” Dina said. She was taller than her partner, very thin, with an interesting bony face and expressive hands that had knobbly joints. “So I wanted to be very sure it was nothing serious.”

“Not that I could see,” Shona said. “If the condition recurs, of course, please come see me at once.”

Hethyr turned a stern face toward her. “I don’t … have to tell you that you may not discuss anything that goes on within the confines of your office? I don’t necessarily want it known that I had to consult you.”

“Of course not,” Shona assured her. “Privacy is guaranteed between doctor and patient. That’s only good medical practice, as well as the law.”

“Good,” Hethyr said shortly. “That might be awkward. You’re invited to Friday evening parties. Everyone attends.” She turned to stare full-faced at Gershom. “Except you. Your ship’s lifting this afternoon, isn’t it?”

Shona glanced at her husband, whose eyebrows lifted toward his hairline, then back to the governor. “Speaking of privacy, it surprises me that considering the importance all of you put on it that several patients came marching right through Dr. Setve’s house.”

“Didn’t he tell you about the shingle?” Hethyr asked in surprise. “On the right-hand pillar of your front porch is a flap of wood on a hinge. Very non-tech. When the white side shows, Setve’s office is open. When the red side is turned out, it is closed. I’m afraid we all assumed that since the white side was out you were ready to see callers. No one will approach if the red side is showing.”

“That’s a great relief,” Shona said. “I realize that I will be on call for emergencies, but … without going into detail … little of what I treated yesterday would fall into that category.”

“Crossed signals,” Dina said, with a grin. She had an engaging smile. A long baying interrupted her. “Oops, got to feed Argent. Don’t wait dessert for me.”

She pushed back from the table and loped out of the room. Shona wondered what kind of dog they had. It looked as though Saffie would be able to make plenty of new friends. What a difference from their usual assignments, where she was the only dog on a space station or in a bubble colony.

“Good. I won’t have to bore her with business,” Hethyr said, with a fond look after her partner. She leaned forward on her forearms toward Gershom. “So, tell me more about your proposal. How much can you save us on carriage, if you take away obsolete machines at the same time as you bring us upgrades?”

* * *

Shona was impressed with the governor’s firm grasp of trade. By the time they finished lunch her head was spinning with figures, percentages, waivers of tariff, and favorable discounts. Gershom always knew to the hundredth-credit how closely he was cutting their profit, but he was smiling as they left the golden house. When the door closed behind them, he whispered, “Ka-ching!”

“Was that good?” Shona asked, glancing back. Behind the sheer lace curtains Hethyr was watching them walk down the steps toward the waiting car.

“I’ll tell you when we have some privacy,” he said, seizing her hand and patting it. “Sometimes I am glad you’re so notorious.”

As Hethyr had said, on the post near the door of her borrowed house was Setve’s shingle. It was plain white, to blend with the white trim; small wonder they had not noticed it. Shona promptly flipped it so that the red side was showing, and marched into the house with Gershom in tow.

As they came into the upper hallway Chirwl poked his head out of his pouch, spraying disks of wood over the already cluttered floor of the small office. The position in which his pouch hung on the wall gave him a splendid view out of a picture window facing the side yard. Sunlight pouring in drew auburn highlights from the tips of his whiskers and fur.

“Sss-shona! All is prepared. The house speaks to me. I persuaded to make meals for us. I think we are making friends.”

“We have more friends to meet later,” Shona said. “We have been invited to a house party later this evening. They especially want you to come.”

“With splendid joy,” Chirwl said, grooming his whiskers with a foreclaw, looking like a cavalier twirling his mustaches. “My friend Lani has the younger ones behind here playing pick flowers. Once more you are to participate in the human mating ritual departure imminent?” He looked hopeful.

Gershom made a face. “Yes, we are, and no, you can’t watch. Some things are not for display, no matter how curious the inquisitor nor for what good and sound research reasons you have.”

The ottle let out a long whistle, his version of a sigh. “I had known. But always of hope. I anticipate this later new union of guests.” He dived back into his pouch, and Shona could hear him chittering to himself as he made a few notes.

“I’m embarrassed that Hethyr was so rude to you,” Shona said. “She all but tossed you off-planet.”

“That’s all right. My mission is accomplished. I’ve brought you. Now I ought to blast off.”

“Almost accomplished,” Shona said, with an impish grin. Gershom smiled at her and drew her toward their room.

* * *

The house party was hosted by the tall woman who’d been Shona’s first patient. Finoa and Robret took great pride in introducing the new doctor and her family to the rest of the guests.

“It’s so interesting to meet you at last,” gushed Angeta, a woman in her fifties with frost-tipped dark blond hair and a dark-skinned triangular face on which the skin seemed stretched too tightly. She gripped Shona’s hand with long, slender fingers. “You know, all the stories on tri-dee were fascinating, but I always wonder how different people are from how they seem on screen.”

“We were not seeing you at your best, perhaps,” Finoa said, rescuing Shona and escorting her to the next person, a man of thirty or so with a shock of black hair. “Ewan.” He was seated on the arm of a chair beside a stunning woman with short, carmine hair cut in the latest extreme fashion, most of it shaved close to the scalp with long silky locks sprouting like ferns here and there on her head. Shona glimpsed Lani out of the corner of her eye taking in the woman with great interest.

“Why didn’t your husband stay?” the red-haired woman asked. Her name was Baraba.

“Business,” Shona said, perhaps more curtly than she intended. Once Gershom had helped her program the whole-house computer, made sure the module was in full working order, and said good-bye to the children there was no real reason for him not to go. She had known all along that he would be leaving, but it was harder than either of them had anticipated. It was not the first time they had been separated for any length of time, nor would it be the last time, but Shona decided she didn’t have to like it.

The other woman’s eyebrows ascended toward her strange coiffure, and Shona hastened to soften her words. “The governor gave him a commission on behalf of your colony. We have some very good connections with suppliers that you all seem to favor. We have exclusive distribution rights in this sector for Trilliant Textiles.”

“Ah,” the woman said, appeased. “I adore their silks, especially their damasks. Our entire bedroom is hung in pale blue, woven on the very looms that made the draperies in the royal dining room at the palace of Versailles. I love blue. It goes so well with gold. Though we might change to royal blue next season.”

“You must talk to my husband when he returns,” Shona said, mentally calculating the cost of covering the walls of a big room in priceless silks.

“Oh, no!” Baraba exclaimed, shocked. “We never deal with tradespeople directly. Hethyr does that for us! Except for … I’m sorry,” she said, with an appalled look at Shona. “Oh, how tactless of me. Does Setve still have that monochromatic bedroom of his?”

“Pale gray?” Shona asked, smiling in spite of the sting she felt. Tradespeople. Well, she knew she didn’t belong in the stratum she currently inhabited.

“Yes. Dull, dull, dull.”

“It’s really very restful,” Shona insisted.

“You mustn’t monopolize our new doctor on the first day,” Finoa chided Baraba.

The hostess swept Shona away and over to the next couple, a pair of men in their fifties, Laren and Bock Carmody. Then to her final patient from the previous afternoon, whose name was Kely. He gave her a wary look, but she made no reference to his visit. She noticed he was wearing a very elaborate piece of jewelry on his thumb that concealed the small wound. And on to others. By the time she found herself sitting down with a drink in her hand she had lost track of all but the first few names.

“Don’t worry,” her hostess reassured her. “You’ll know everyone’s name soon. There are only about a hundred of us.”

Shona grinned. “That’s smaller than some of the lecture classes I took in medical school,” she said. “In fact, this room is larger than the lecture halls themselves. I am enjoying everyone’s use of space. It’s so …”

“Ostentatious?” Bock asked, with a twinkle.

“I was going to say, impressive,” Shona said. Finoa’s house was only one level, sprawled over an acre or more. The floor plan accommodated the natural curves and rises of the land by inserting rooms a half-level up or down. “On a merchant ship like ours any space that isn’t carrying cargo is considered wasted. It’s a mental adjustment.”

“I hope you’ll come to like it,” Angeta said.

“Oh, I do!”

“That’s Angeta’s daughter Clea, Bock’s daughter Mona, and Hanya’s daughter Zolly over there with your older girl,” Finoa said, nodding toward a cluster of chairs close to the entertainment deck. Shona tried to appear casual as she glanced toward the little group of teenaged girls seated in them. As usual, Lani wasn’t saying very much, but she looked happy. Shona was pleased that the other girls had taken the initiative to draw Lani into their circle.

The crowd divided itself into several groups. The noisiest part of the party was taking place on the minstrel’s gallery that ran along one wall on a half-level above the great room. As they came in the parents sent their young children up behind the Plexiglas half-wall to join their friends. Dwan’s three showed Alex and Jill the way. From the joyous shouts echoing down to the adults, some adventure game was being organized up there. Alex’s voice could be heard adding his own ideas about monsters to be killed and treasure to be won. Tumi’s suddenly cut through them all, and they quieted down. The adults looked at one another anxiously, then laughed.

“I always worry when I can’t hear them,” Dwan said to Shona. She was warmly friendly to the doctor, and more formal with her neighbors. Obviously some dynamic exempted the local physician from the pecking order. “Usually it means they’re breaking something expensive. It helps that we can see what they’re up to.”

“The invisible force field up there is one of the first things we approved on the house plan when we built,” Finoa said, indicating the half-wall. “I don’t mind it when Tumi plays inside. It’s the safest place to play, and I can keep an eye on him.”

“The landscaping is wonderful,” Shona said. “But you’re right. When the children run off into the back I can’t see them at all.”

“You have rather a lot to keep track of, don’t you?” Baraba asked with arched eyebrows.

“Only three,” Shona said.

“Only!”

“We’ve often thought about having another,” Shona admitted. “Both of us were only children. We love the idea of a big family.”

“My dear,” Angeta said, with a smile, “you’ll learn that having more than three children is considered to be ostentatious.”

Shona was surprised. “But you have so much room.”

Silence fell. She realized she had committed a social gaffe. Again. Too late she remembered what Dwan had said about not discussing the amount of land anyone possessed. She smiled weakly.

“I’d better check on the children.” She fled around the corner and up the stairs to the landing. The children, divided into four groups, glanced up briefly at the arrival of an adult, then, when it turned out not to be one of their parents, went back to plotting among themselves. Alex held her gaze the longest, but she shook her head. She spotted Jill in the largest, most giggly group, and decided not to attract her attention.

Gershom had indulged her curiosity before he had departed. Scanning the makeup of the planet, they discovered that the M-class section that had been terraformed was under twenty thousand square miles, most of it an ocean and several inland lakes, sources of oxygen and fresh water for the colony. The terraformers worked in an ever-widening circle. Though progress was slow each family must still own thousands of acres. The force field holding back the toxic atmosphere of the outer reaches was an expensive and power-hungry model, but as efficient as anything like it could be.

Conditions must have been horrible on Jardindor during the initial stages. Workers would have had to live in a protective dome or series of interconnected modules that vibrated constantly with the grinding of the terraformers. A spectrographic reading of the atmosphere outside the force field revealed that it was breathable—barely—but profuse with unpleasant-smelling esters and poisonous compounds in low concentration.

The machines penetrated deep into the crust of the planet, weeding out toxic chemicals and rendering them inert. Valuable ones were gathered from the aggregate and stored in tanks for use or shipment. Sensors would also have identified and benchmarked any useful minerals, although until it was bid on by the Jardindor collective the planet had been considered virtually worthless. To compare the pastoral calm of the finished product with the original biosphere was to compare not just apples to oranges, but chocolate to rocks.

“So, Shona, Finoa tells me you’re a fan of the tri-dees?” Laren said from the other side of the big room, as she came back looking for an empty seat. He turned aside to hide a cough, not for the first time that night, and Shona wondered whether he would come to see her about it.

“Would you like some tea with lemon for that cough?” Finoa asked.

“It’s not a cough!” Laren protested. “Shelia, how are those young ginkgoes doing in your yard?”

“Very well,” Shelia said. “I’ve started making my own tea. I had to grab the robogardener this morning. I misprogrammed it a little. It took all the leaves off one branch. I thought I told it just to pick one here and there, but I didn’t define ‘here and there’ well enough.”

“Moronic geniuses,” opined Dwan’s husband, a mild man with graying brown hair. “They only do what you tell them.”

“I know, I know,” Shelia said, tossing her thick hair. “It was me. I’m terrible with machines. But the tea is far superior to the freeze-dried stuff I’ve been drinking.”

“May we try some?” Laren asked politely.

“Oh, yes,” Shelia said, with a smile. “It tastes awful, though.”

“I’ll put some extracts in it, then. And lots of stevia,” Laren said, looking defiantly around at the others. “It’s good for everything, including dry throat, which is all that I’ve got.”

Shona found everyone’s eyes on her. She cleared her throat.

“Everyone does seem to be very healthy,” she said. “Whatever you’re doing is very good for you. As long as you aren’t taking anything your bodies don’t need.”

That seemed to be exactly the right thing to say. Everyone burst out about the combination of vitamins they were taking and the virtuous dietary regimens they followed.

“And I run five miles every day, along with tai chi and yoga and I take vitamin supplements, not that our diet is lacking, and of course—” Baraba paused abruptly. “And I think you’d be surprised at how much a balanced lifestyle can do for you. Look at Finoa,” she added, hastily. “She’s the healthiest of us all.” Shona took a critical glance at her hostess. “How old do you think she is?”

“Oh, I don’t think I should …”

“Never mind,” Finoa said, with a modest smile. “She could look it up in my records, Bar. I’m fifty-eight.”

Shona gasped. “Really? I thought you were my age!” Apart from a few sun-lines at the corners of her eyes, the tall woman could have been thirty. She had taut, youthful skin, clear eyes, and thick hair.

“We live well,” Finoa said, with smug complacence.

“I think I’d better study your lifestyle while I’m here,” Shona said. “All of humanity will want to know your secret.”

There was an embarrassed silence. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just can’t seem to say the right things tonight.”

“It’s all right,” Baraba said. “I ought to be able to resist bragging. You can tell we don’t have a lot of outside contact. Manners go right out the airlock!”

Shona heard Chirwl’s high-pitched chitter break through the buzz of conversation. She glanced over toward the sound. He was virtually holding court at his end of the room—small wonder, since so few ottles were abroad in human space.

The research that had provided every comfort for Shona and her family had also deduced the sort of furniture Chirwl liked best for lounging in company. Shona wondered which newscast or tri-dee clip the idea had come from. The ottle was enthroned on an elevated, circular padded platform with raised sides, like a big birdbath made of red velvet, that showed off his fur to great advantage. Chirwl rolled from one side to another of his couch, responding to questions, but mostly asking them. The Jardindorians appeared to take the greatest pleasure in answering him, though they were smiling as if speaking to a very small child. Shona shook her head. They would be surprised how intelligent he was, in spite of his comically bent grasp of Standard.

“He’s a very interesting being, isn’t he?” Baraba said to Shona.

“Yes, I’ve enjoyed hosting him. He’s got a philosophy about humans that I find it difficult to dispute,” Shona said. “He thinks we’re too attached to technology, in almost a symbiotic relationship. I’m trying to disprove it, but the more I do, the more I think I’m helping him prove his thesis.”

“What do you think, Finoa?” Laren asked, watching the ottle with hungry eyes.

“Possible,” Finoa said casually. “Definitely possible. I hope you’ll let him visit us all while you’re busy, Dr. Shona,” the tall woman added. “He’s fascinating. And all of us would like to help him with his research.”

“He’ll do most of the talking,” Shona said with a grin, though she was wary of the silent byplay between the two Jardindorians. She promised herself she would accompany Chirwl on any visits he made for a while. “By the way, Chirwl said that he smelled an aroma today that he associates with predators. And yesterday my dog was behaving as if she had found a strong animal scent. Are there any dangerous species on the planet? Any natural predators left over from before the terraforming began?”

“Native animals?” Hethyr said, overhearing the last sentence. “Of course not. We would never allow ourselves to be responsible for the extinction of a species. Far from it: we are committed to preserving species. I think you will find that we are all very ecologically minded.” But they all looked uneasy. Perhaps, Shona thought, there had been something that the terraforming association had come across late in the process and not admitted to EarthGov lest they be forbidden to use the planet. It was not unknown for colonies to be evacuated, even after several years’ occupancy, if it could be proved that they had willingly contributed to the demise of an evolving bioculture.

A wild whoop rang off the ceiling. Finoa rose majestically and stalked toward the ramp leading to the children’s domain.

“What kind of educational program are you using for your children?” Dwan piped up.

“Oh, we’re using Home Tutor,” Shona said. “Alex is just starting level 7, and Jill is on level 4. Since my assignments are often so short-term, we never could enroll any of them in local schools. It would be too disruptive. How about you?”

“We have Home Tutor, too,” Dwan said, happily. “And Dougie is on level 7. I’d love it if you would bring them over and let them work on the same console. They’d get so much out of sharing lessons with peers.”

“And my Zolly is about the same age as your Lani,” said Hanya. “Is she doing level twenty?”

“Yes,” Shona said. “Is Zolly?”

“Sure is. Our elder daughter is off-planet at school. Zolly’s been going crazy by herself. She doesn’t go off until next year. She’d love to have a study-buddy.”

“We’re hoping to send Lani to an academy next year, too,” Shona said. “She’s been getting brochures aplenty. If they want to work together, I would be delighted. They could help one another decide where to go. Lani’s very quiet. She’s smart and she has her own mind, but she needs to be drawn out.”

“Well, that’s the opposite of my Zolly,” Hanya said proudly. “I think she’s the most outgoing child who ever lived. I’ll ask her.”

The two girls were excited at the idea of taking lessons together. They started making plans at once. They implored their respective parents to let them meet early the next day. Shona looked at the ornate wall chronometer.

“Good heavens,” she said. “I’d better get us all home. Is our cart still out front?”

“It’s in our shelter,” Robret said. “Hazel!”

“Working,” said the disembodied voice of the house computer. Shona looked at him curiously.

“We named it after a two-dee program my mother used to watch when I was a kid,” he admitted sheepishly. “All our machines have names. Hazel, bring Dr. Shona’s cart around. Good night. We look forward to seeing you again next Friday. But please visit us in the meantime.”

“Thank you so much for the hospitality,” Shona said, shaking hands all around. “Come by to see us, too. Not just when you need my professional skills. We want very much to be part of this community.” She was careful not to meet anyone’s eyes in particular, for which Laren, Hethyr, Finoa, and Kely looked very grateful. “Chirwl, it’s time!”

“So early ready?” the ottle said, reluctant to give up his audience. Over his protests, Shona bundled him into his pouch and slung it onto her back.

She gathered up the yawning children and herded them outside into the waiting cart. She couldn’t see its dark-green enamel in the dark, but a glowing “S” on the door panel let her know it was the right one. The children huddled together. Lani put her head on Shona’s shoulder. Shona breathed in a delicious lungful of air. The night was cool, moist, and fragrant.

“Home, James,” she said, and chuckled to herself. “Say, Robret is right. It is fun.”

“You find it cheering to call things by names?” Chirwl asked, sticking his head up out of the pouch and putting it over her shoulder.

“Don’t do that; your whiskers tickle,” Shona said, pushing his nose out of her ear. “It’s just nice to know these people have little foibles. I think it’s endearing to name your house systems after your mother’s favorite vids. It makes people more … approachable. More human.”

Chirwl twitched his whiskers. “When all the person is human, how can he-she be more so?”

“It’s just an expression! Hmm. Well, I mean that they don’t seem like such lofty beings. They are all very wealthy, and they live such reclusive lives. I found that intimidating. I thought they might be very different from us. I was nervous what they might think of me, but I see they are just as nervous. Did you observe the way they kept stopping so they wouldn’t blurt something out? At first I wondered if there was anything sinister, the way they kept glancing at one another, but it was probably nothing more than all of them wondering when I would find out about their quirks. They probably thought I was going to make fun of their diets. Most of the ones they’re on are fads, but can do little harm.”

“Strange that these who may have what they like tell themselves not to.”

“True,” Shona said. “But when you’re brought up to have no limits I suppose you start setting your own. I don’t know. If you get to know any of these people well enough to ask them, please tell me.”

* * *

Bath time was uneventful, but the moment Shona tried to put Jill to bed in the big yellow room all by herself, the toddler started whimpering.

“Don’t go, Mama,” Jill begged. “I couldn’t find you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m just down the hall.”

“The mechanomen are up there!” The child pointed at the ceiling. Shona glanced up.

“Those are just roboservers, honey. Don’t pay any attention to them. They’re just machines. They clean the bathroom for you. They fold your clothes and put them away for you.”

The toddler’s eyes widened. “They’re in the closet? I want to come with you!” She wrapped her arms around Shona and wouldn’t let go. Shona shook her head. She had accidentally triggered Jill’s most terrifying monster association, closet monsters. A tousled little head peeked around the corner. Alex was waiting to hear what Shona decided. He didn’t want to be the one who said first that he was scared.

“Papa’s not here to protect us,” Jill said, her face buried in Shona’s sleeve.

“But Saffie’s here. And Chirwl is very brave. He loves you. I bet he’d stay here with you if you wanted. He’s not scared. He’ll tell you all about the mechanomen. He tells good stories about them. Long ones.” Jill giggled in spite of herself. Getting Chirwl to tell them bedtime stories was one of the children’s favorite ploys for staying up late. His stories tended to ramble on because he would get so interested in what he was talking about that he would go off on tangents. By the time he got back to the main plot it was usually a good twenty or thirty minutes past their usual lights-out.

“Please, Mama? I too little.”

Shona relented. “All right. This is a very big house. I feel very little in here, too. Let’s go make some beds for everyone in my room. You can stay there for a few days, until you get used to it. But everyone has to use their own bathroom. All right? This is the first time I have a tub all to myself, and I don’t want forty-five Convertible Babies in it with me. All right?”

“Okay,” Jill said.

“Yay!” Alex said, forgetting to be invisible and jumping up and down in the hall.

Lani must have been within earshot, too. When Shona went to her room to tell her the plan, the girl already had her arms full of quilts and pillows. She gave her mother a shy grin.

The pale gray chamber took on the air of a dormitory. Once the children were in, Chirwl insisted that he wished to be a member of the party. Shona hung his pouch up on a hook on the huge breakfront that was meant for holding hangers or a bathrobe. Saffie and Harry nosed their way in and settled on whatever makeshift mattress offered the most comfortable spot. Despite having all her family around her, the huge room still felt empty to Shona. She drifted off to sleep missing Gershom.

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Framed