"As for the subject matter, we can hope only to acquaint ourselves with the large outline, though we will often pause to focus upon interesting details. I recommend subsidiary reading, which, incidentally, will improve your grade. Anyone who negotiates the ten volumes of Baron Bodissey's Life in addition to the assigned texts will automatically receive at minimum a passing grade. Needless to say, I will satisfy myself that this reading has actually taken place.

"Some of you may consider my teaching techniques rather casual. Others will wonder how I arrive at your proper grade. There is no mystery here. I grade partly from examination results, partly from a subjective, or even subconscious, evaluation, I lack sympathy with both mysticism and stupidity; I hope that you will control any such tendencies during our discussions. I must admit that beautiful girls face a special handicap; I must constantly guard against giving these delicious creatures all that they want and more. I might add that ugly girls fare no better, since then I must take into account my kindly pangs of guilt and pity.

"Enough of the side issues; to the work itself, which you will find to be fascinating, rich in drama, humor and pathos. Your first assignment is Parts One and Two of The World of the Goddess Gaea, by Michael Yeaton. Are there questions? Yes?"

Ottillie Veder said: "I am a girl. How will I know whether my bad grade is because you admire me or because you find me disgusting and repulsive?"

"Nothing could be simpler. Arrange to meet me out on the beach with a blanket and a bottle of good wine. If I do not appear, your most pessimistic fears will be confirmed. Now, then, as for today ..."

The girls of the class, along with Ottillie Veder, included Cynissa and Zanny Diffin; Tara and Zaraide Laverty; Mornifer and Jerdys Wook; Adare and Clare Clattuc; Vervice Offaw; Wayness Tamm from Riverview House, and others. The Bold Lions were represented by Glawen and Aries Clattuc, Kiper Laverty, Kirdy Wook, Ling Diffin and Shugart Veder.

Two weeks of the term went by, then one day Professor Dace leaned back into his chair.

"Today we deviate from our usual procedure, and undertake some anthropological fieldwork here in the class. Everyone has doubtless taken note of the individuals normally present during this period. Two of these persons derive from cultures somewhat alien to that of Araminta Station. One of them is myself, but I could not, without flagrant loss of dignity, allow the class to use me as a case study. Therefore we will focus our attention upon that intriguing individual who calls herself Wayness, and hope that her dignity is proof to the trial. Observe her now as she sits at her desk, evaluating this startling turn of events. Her composure is worthy of note; she neither titters, rolls her eyes nor crouches in a nervous huddle.

Aha! At last she laughs! She is mortal after all! To a keen and educated eye a variety of subtle signals indicates her alien background: for instance, the odd manner in which she holds her pencil."

Kiper Laverty, sitting next to Wayness, called out: "That is not a pencil; she has borrowed my new fidget rod."

"Thank you, Kiper," said Professor Dace.

"As always, you bring a fresh perspective to our ruminations. Returning to Wayness, I suspect that the events of her life have been almost incommensurable with those of the rest of us.

Furthermore, she interprets these events differently than we might. Am I right, Wayness?"

"I would expect so, sir, since you are the professor."

"Hm, yes; quite so. Well, then: how would you describe the differences between life here and life at Stroma?"

Wayness reflected a moment.

"There are differences, certainly, although they are hard to explain. Our customs are much the same;

we use the same table manners and wash when we are dirty. At Araminta Station class distinctions are important and carefully denned, but you have no perceptible politics. At Stroma, politics and political skills are the source of prestige, even more than wealth. But we have no class distinctions."

"That is an interesting observation," said Professor Dace.

"And which do you consider the better system?"

Wayness pursed her lips in mild perplexity.

"I've never troubled to think about it. I've always taken it for granted that ours is the best way."

Professor Dace shook his head.

"That is not necessarily so, although today we will not explore the topic in depth.

Continue, if you will."

"Whatever the case," said Wayness, "politics at Stroma is very important; in fact it's a continuous wrangle which involves everyone."

"And what, in brief, are the issues?"

"There are two main factions: the Life, Peace and Freedom group, who are anxious to make what they call 'progressive changes," and the Old Naturalists, whom the LPFers call the Old Naturals or Bird-watchers, who want to maintain Cadwal as a wilderness preserve."

Professor Dace asked: "And what are your own views?"

Wayness, smiling, shook her head.

"The Conservator is officially neutral. I'm part of his household."

Adare Clattuc asked: "Where do you prefer to live? Here or at Stroma?"

"I often ask myself the same question. There really is no basis for comparison."

"But isn't Araminta far nicer? How can you even hesitate?"

"Well since Throy isn't nice at all, the word simply doesn't apply. Throy is a land of force and grandeur: not necessarily harsh or cruel but certainly not kindly. When I think of Throy I feel two emotions:

a lifting of the spirits in response to the natural beauty, and awe. These emotions are always with us, and often challenge our courage. In our winter cabins out on the seaward crags, we can feel the force of the storm and watch the great waves smashing against the rocks. Pan of the joy comes from the thrill of fear, even though we know we are safe and comfortable. Certain bold persons claim to enjoy what is known as storm-sailing; they go out on the sea to challenge the worst of the storms. Sometimes I think that mostly they enjoy the sensation of returning alive to the dock. Naturally, the storm boats are very strong and very heavy; they make a wonderful sight as they ride over the waves. Once when I was small I watched from our cabin as a storm boat struck a submerged rock and sank; even now when I think of it I feel a strange emotion which I can't describe.

"Sometimes we go out to one of the famous old inns instead of our cabin. The Iron Barnacle, which is built out on an offshore crag, is my favorite place to be when the storm is wildest. The green waves come in from the sea to crash against the rocks, and white foam spatters a hundred feet into the air. Wind roars; clouds tumble across the sky, while rain and hail fall on the roof and firelight stirs the soul like beautiful music. There is a special hot soup prepared for such occasions, and rum punch. When finally we go to bed, all the wild black night we hear the roar of the sea and the wind wailing through the rocks. When we travel from Throy and go far away, memories of the Iron Barnacle always make us homesick."

Professor Dace said: "Visitors often wonder why the Society built Stroma on Throy, when easier sites were at hand. Can you explain?"

"I think that they wanted to keep the population low, without imposing a numerical limit."

"And the population now?"

"Six hundred or so. When the Society was still sending subsidies, it reached fifteen hundred."

"And what of the Society now? Does it still concern itself with Conservancy policy?"

"Not at all, as far as I know."

"Tell us something of your daily routine at Stroma."

Wayness hesitated.

"I don't think anyone would be interested."

"Include a saucy anecdote or two; you'll instantly have everyone's attention, especially when they realize that your remarks will form the basis of an examination."

"Let me think. Where shall I start? Everyone knows that Stroma overlooks the Stroma Fjord. We live in the best of the old houses;

others have been pulled down, and only the gardens remain.

At the end of the sound are the greenhouses; almost a hundred acres are under glass.