"I seem to detect the rich ripe odor of Peefer ideology."

Dame Clytie gave him a contemptuous grin.

"What of it?

Someone must bring a moral authority to bear upon this medieval society. It has been sadly lacking heretofore!"

Warden Ballinder rolled up his eyes, blew out his cheeks, then declared: "Enjoy your morals, by all means! Fondle them! Adore them! Hang them around your neck! But do not inflict them upon the Conservancy!"

"Come, come, Algin! Please don't be so pompous, and for once in your life use some amplitude in your thinking, instead of simply throwing back your head and braying. Morals are useless unless they are put to work. Across all Cadwal there is a crying need for a new moral perception, and Mad Mountain is a case in point."

"You are one hundred and eighty degrees wrong. The activity has persisted across millions of years; it obviously fulfills a fundamental ecological purpose which I for one would not care to fiddle with. These are the basic prohibitions imposed by the Charter."

Warden Clytie Vergence snorted.

"I have arrived at a stage of life when I cannot be cowed every time you flap an old document in my face."

Julian declared: "And there you hear the voice of progressive realism, ringing loud, bold and clear! The time is now! I too have felt the clammy dead hand of 'then on my arm and I have spurned it aside! Forward, the LPF!"

Milo clapped his hands.

"Splendid, Julian! You have great style! Have you considered a career in politics?"

Sunje spoke with languid amusement: "Milo, what an idiot you are! He is already in politics!"

"And a very gallant advocate of his cause!" called out Dame Cora.

"Wayness, don't you agree?"

"Of course! Julian is quite articulate! Glawen, I noticed you wincing and squirming while the Warden Vergence was speaking. Were you trying to endorse her views?"

Everyone turned to look at Glawen, who, after a thoughtful side glance at the Warden Vergence, said: "Our hostess prefers that we avoid the topic of politics, so I will keep my opinions to myself."

Dame Cora smiled and patted Glawen's shoulder.

"How considerate of you! If only Milo could follow your example!"

Milo said: "That is why I am anxious to hear Glawen's point of view! His meekness and abnegation suggest that he supports the Peefers. Glawen, is this true? Tell us at least this much!"

"Some other time," said Glawen.

The Warden Vergence asked him: "I believe that you are employed by Bureau B?"

"That is true."

"What might be the nature of your duties?"

"I still undergo training, first of all. Then I do odd jobs for the Supervisor: small tasks below the dignity of the upper officers. And of course, I fly patrols out over all the sections of Deucas."

Julian said blandly: "The best sport, of course, is to be found over the Marmion Foreshore."

Glawen shook his head.

"Contrary to Julian's obsessive belief, our patrols serve very serious purposes. In a word, we guard the territory of the Conservancy, and we overfly every province several times a year."

Dame Clyde said: "Off the top of my head I can't imagine what you'd be looking for."

"We provide information to the scientists; we support and sometimes rescue their expeditions. We observe and report upon any number of events: natural disasters, abnormal movement of herds, out-of-season tribal migrations.

Sometimes we find human intruders, from off-world or otherwise, and we take them into custody, usually without event. For a fact, when we go out on patrol we never know what to expect. We might find a krabenklotter bogged down in the swamp, which represents a good deal of dirty work and a challenge to our professional skills."

Wayness asked: "What do you do in such a case?"

"We land, rig the proper tackle, drag the beast to safety, then run like blazes to escape the ungrateful creature."

"You do this alone?"

"We lack manpower for anything better. Still, we do our best and usually the job gets done, if only out of vanity. The intent of Bureau B training is to make us competent under any circumstances."

Sunje demanded: "And that's how you regard yourself?"

Glawen grinned.

"I'm just learning. I'd like to be as resourceful as my father."

Julian asked blandly: "What happens when you find human intruders?"

"Most of these are petty bandits, hoping to loot the jewel beds."

"I should think that they'd be dangerous folk and quick with their weapons."

"Sometimes they are, but we have techniques to deal with them. Sensors warn us that intruders are present. Our first step is to locate and disable their vehicles, to prevent their escape. Then with our loud-hailer we warn them against violence, and instruct them to surrender. Usually that's all there is to the matter."

"What happens next?"

"If they surrender at once, they'll serve three years or so on the Cape Journal Roadway. If they use weapons and resist, they are killed on the spot."

Sunje gave an exaggerated shudder.

"The Bureau B personnel seem very brisk. You allow your prisoners no representation, no legal process, no rights of appeal?"

"Our rules are widely known. The legal processes you mention are automatically raised, argued and denied, in a single brief sentence. It is something like an all-inclusive hotel bill. To bring these points again would be redundant. If the bandits find our rules unacceptable, they can go elsewhere."

Sunje asked in a metallic voice: "Have you killed any of these bandits yourself--knowing that they might be ignorant of your rules?"

Glawen smiled a small wry smile.

"When bandits try to kill us, our compassion is quickly lost. We don't even wonder whether they might be ignorant."