Dame Clytie said coldly: "Let me ask you this, since the subject has been broached: what of the Yips whom you capture along the Foreshore? Do you kill them with the same careless ease?"

Glawen showed a faint smile.

"I cannot answer your question directly, since the Yips almost always surrender without offering violence."

"So then: what is their fate?"

"It has changed over the years. At first, they were merely tattooed for identification and sent back to the Lutwens.

This policy dissuaded no one, so for a period trespassers were sent to Cape Journal to work on the road, until we could absorb no more. We now use a new technique, which seems to work very well!"

"And how do you operate this new technique?"

"The Yips no longer serve time at Cape Journal; instead they are sent off-world, to Soumjiana or Moulton's World, where they are indentured into suitable employment for a term of one or two years. The proceeds pay all our expenses; after the indenture is satisfied, the Yip finds himself employed and free to do as he likes, except return to Cadwal. He has in effect become an emigrant from Yipton off-world, which is. our goal. Everyone is happy except, conceivably, the porn- phaw, who prefers to work out his own indentures."

Egon Tamm looked up and down the table.

"Are there any more

questions? Or have we studied the work of Bureau B in sufficient detail?"

Dame Clytie said grimly: "I have learned even more than I wanted to know."

Dame Cora glanced at the sky.

"I believe that the breeze has come up, and it's a trifle boisterous. Shall we go indoors?"

The company made its way to the parlor. Dame Cora called out for attention.

"All are now free to relax as they please.

Etrune and I are going to look at some of my leaf block-prints. They are truly exquisite, and as the textbook asserts they 'seem to vibrate with the essence of vegetation." Clytie, would you care to join us? And Sunje?"

Sunje smilingly shook her head. Dame Clytie said: "Thank you, Cora, but I am not at all in a vegetative mood."

"As you wish. Milo, you might show Sunje and Glawen the secret rock pool you found the other day."

"Then it wouldn't be secret any longer," said Milo.

"They can go seek it out themselves, if they want to. Meanwhile I'll show Julian our new encyclopedia of combat devices."

"In the name of precious Gaea herself," gasped Dame Clytie, "whatever for?"

Milo shrugged.

"Sometimes it's more convenient to kill opponents than to argue with them, especially if you happen to be late for an appointment."

Dame Cora compressed her lips.

"Milo, your humor approaches the bizarre and might even be considered tasteless."

Milo bowed.

"I accept your judgment and retract everything!

Come, Julian, I'll show you the rock pool."

"Not quite so soon after lunch," said Julian.

"I am a trifle enervated."

"You must do as you like," said Dame Cora graciously.

"Etrune, shall we look over the blocks?"

The two ladies departed. Others of the group disposed themselves around the room. Glawen reflected that now might be as good a time as any to take leave of the party. Wayness sensed his half-formed intent; with a mere twitch of the fingers and a meaningful glance she indicated that she did not want him to go.

Glawen seated himself at the end of the couch as before.

Dame Clytie paced the length of the room, then seated herself opposite Julian.

Milo and Wayness busied themselves at the sideboard, and served cups of sweetened brandy along with sticks of dense dark pastry. Wayness told Glawen: "This is how we while away the long winter evenings at Stroma. You must dip the end of the hard-cake into the brandy, then gnaw away the part that has become soft. The process will seem pointless at first, but you'll find that you don't want to stop."

Dame Clytie waved away the proffered plate.

"I lack patience for so much gnawing."

Milo suggested: "Simply drink the brandy, if you're of a mind."

"Thank you, no. I am somewhat disturbed and brandy would only make me dizzy."

Milo asked solicitously: "Would you like to lie down and rest for a while?"

"Certainly not!" snapped Dame Clytie.

"My disturbance is purely mental. Not to put too fine a point on it, I am shocked and surprised at what I have heard over lunch."

Warden Ballinder smiled coldly.

"Unless I misread the signs, it appears that we are about to share Dame Clyde's surprise and perhaps participate in her distress."

"I can't understand why you are not already affected," declared Dame Clyde.

"You heard this gentleman, a Bureau B patrol officer, describe his work. Surely you noted his lack of self-consciousness-or could it be a moral vacuum? I find it unnerving in a person so young."

Glawen tried to utter a word of remonstrance but his voice was overborne by that of Dame Clytie, who would not be diverted from her thesis: "And what do we learn of Bureau B?

We discover indifference for human dignity and disregard for basic human rights. We learn of dire deeds done with a chilling finality. We find a swaggering arrogant autonomy, which the Conservator apparently does not dare to challenge.