How much more capable we might have been； if not for peace！
We rediscovered this truth with sharp pangs today； when a panting galloper showed up with dispatches from the forge…study of Uriel the Smith。 Words of warning。 Dire admonitions； telling of sky…portents； urging that we brace ourselves for visitation by a starship！
Oh； tardy premonition！ A caution that arrived too late by far。
Once； stone citadels nestled on bitter…cold peaks； from north of Biblos all the way down to the tropic settlements of the Vale； flashing messages via cleverly fashioned mirrors； outracing the swiftest urrish couriers or even racing birds。 With their semaphore； humans and their allies mobilized speedily for battle； making up skillfully for their lack of numbers。 In time； urs and hoon developed systems of their own； each clever in its way。 Even we traeki formed a network of scent…spore trackers； to warn of possible danger。
None of these feats survived peace。 The semaphore was abandoned； the system of signal rockets allowed to lapse。 Until lately； merce alone simply did not justify such costly media…though ironically just last year investors had begun speaking of reoccupying those frigid stone aeries； resuming the network of flashed messages。
Had they moved faster； would we have received Uriel's warning in time？
Would receiving it have made any difference in our fate？
Ah； my rings。 How vain it is to dwell on might…have…beens。 Other than solipsism； it may be the most mad thing that unitary beings waste their time doing。
Rety
〃DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING FOR ME？〃
Rann； the tall； stern…looking leader of the sky…humans； held out his hand toward her。 In the late twilight； with wind rustling a nearby thicket of pale boo； it seemed to Rety that each of his calloused fingers was like her entire wrist。 Moonlight brought out shadows on Rann's craggy features and wedgelike torso。 She tried not to show it； but Rety felt all too insignificant in his presence。
Are all men like this； out there among the stars？ The thought made her feel funny； like earlier； when Besh told her it was possible to smooth away her scars。
First had e bad news。
〃We cannot do anything about it here in our little clinic；〃 the forayer woman had told her； during Rety's brief turn at the aliens' sick call； near their buried station。
She had been standing in line for half the morning； a horrid wait； spent shuffling between a g'Kek with a wheezy； lopsided wheel and an aged urs whose nostril dripped a ghastly gray fluid。 Rety tried hard not to step in it each time the queue moved forward。 When her chance finally came to be examined under bright lights and probing rays； her hopes soared； then crashed。
〃This kind of dermal damage would be easy to repair back home；〃 Besh had said； while ushering Rety toward the tent flap。 〃Bio…sculpting is a high art。 Experts can mold a pleasant form out of even primitive material。〃
Rety wasn't offended。 Primitive material。 It's what I am； all right。 Anyway； at the time she was dazed from imagining…what if Galactic wizardry could give her a face and body like Besh； or Ling？
She set her feet； refusing to budge till Besh let her speak。
〃They…they say you may take some humans with you； when you go。〃
Besh had looked down at her with eyes the color of golden…brown gemstones。
〃Who says such things？〃
〃I。。。 hear stuff。 Rumors； I guess。〃
〃You should not believe all rumors。〃
Had there been extra emphasis on the word all？ Rety leaped on any excuse for hope。
〃I also hear you pay good when folks bring things you want…or news you need。〃
〃That much is true。〃 Now the eyes seemed to glitter a little。 From amusement？ Or greed？
〃And if the news is really； really valuable？ What'd be the reward then？〃
The star…woman smiled； a grin full of friendship and promise。 〃Depending on how helpful or precious the information…the sky's the limit。〃
Rety had felt a thrill。 She started to reach into her belt pouch。 But Besh stopped her。 〃Not now；〃 the woman said in a low voice。 〃It is not discreet。〃
Looking left and right； Rety realized there were other patients around； and employees of the forayers…members of the Six serving as assistants in the aliens' many enterprises。 Any one could be a spy for the sages。
〃Tonight；〃 Besh had told her in a low voice。 〃Rann goes walking each evening； down by the stream。 Wait next to the stand of yellow boo。 The one just ing into bloom。 e alone； and speak to no one you see along the way。〃
Great！ Rety had thought jubilantly on leaving the tent。 They're interested！ It's exactly what I was hoping for。 And just in the nick o' time。
All might have been lost if it had taken much longer to make contact。 The chief human sage had decreed she must leave tomorrow； acpanying a small donkey caravan aimed up into the mountains； along with two silent men and three big women she had never met before。 Nothing was said； but she knew the goal was to catch up with Dwer； and from there head back to the wilderness she came from。
No chance of that； she had thought； relishing tonight's rendezvous。 Dwer's wele to go play hunter in the forest。 While he's scratchin' for eats in the Gray Hills； I'll be living high an' mighty； up on the Dolphin's Tail。
That was the constellation where； rumor had it； the forayers came from； although the crablike sage； Knife…Bright Insight； once tried explaining to Rety about galaxies and 〃transfer points〃 and how the route back to civilization was twisty as a mule…spider's vine。 None of it made sense； and she figured the old qheuen was probably lying。 Rety far preferred the idea of going to a star she could clearly see…which meant she would someday look back at Jijo from the beautiful Galactic city where she'd gone to live； and stick her tongue out every night at Jass and Bom and their whole stinking tribe。 And Dwer and the sages； for that matter； along with everyone else on this rancy planet who was ever mean to her。
All day after meeting Besh she had avoided the sages and their servants； seeking the clearings several arrow…flights to the west； where some pilgrims were trying to restore a few of the festivities of Gathering。 Pavilions that had been taken down in panic were now restored； and many folk had e out of hiding。 There was still plenty of tension。 But some people seemed determined to get on with。life； even if just for a little while。
She visited one tent where craft workers showed wares brought from all over the Slope。 Their goods would have impressed Rety even yesterday。 But now she smiled scornfully； having seen the bright machines the sky…humans used。 At one panel discussion； she watched hoon； g'Kek； and human experts discuss improved techniques for weaving rope。 The atmosphere was hushed； and few in the audience asked questions。
Nearby； a traeki ring…breeder displayed some flabby donut shapes with slender arms； eye buds； or stubby feet。 A trio of mature traeki stood near the pen； perhaps pondering additions to a newborn stack they were building back home。 Or maybe they were just browsing。
Farther along； in a sun…dappled glade； chimp acrobats performed for a crowd of children； and an all…race sextet played by a simmering hot spring。 It all might have seemed quite gay if Rety didn't sense a pall； spoiling the mood。 And if she had not already hardened her heart to all things Jijoan。
These Slopies think they're so much better than a pack of dirty sooners。 Well； maybe it's so。 But then； everybody on Jijo is a sooner； ain't they？
I'm going far away； so it won't matter to me anymore。
In a rougher clearing； she passed much of the afternoon watching human kids and urrish middlings vie in a game of Drake's Dare。
The playing field was a strip of sand with a stream along one side。 The other border was a long pit filled with coals； smoldering under a coating of gray ash。 Wisps of hot smoke wafted into Rety's face； tugging painful memories of Jass and Bom。 Her scars tightened till she moved a ways uphill； sitting under the shade of a dwarf garu。
Two contestants arrived…a human boy starting at the north end of the field and a burly urrish middling at the so