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Dr. Fiske sighed. "Ah, now I suppose we come to the crux of all this. If I understood it correctly, Petaybee is extremely grateful for its life, but not grateful enough to endure our resource development plans? That's why the teams have disappeared or been killed?"

Frank Metaxos cleared his throat and said in a rusty voice, "It wasn't intentional, Whit. I-freaked out, as Diego would say, what with the blizzard followed by that intense psychical input. I understand now that what I sensed in the cave was only this same explanation. And-incredible as it seems-something of an apology. Perhaps Petaybee could adjust its climate a bit for those of us who aren't used to such extreme conditions."

"Actually, Petaybee's extremely hospitable, if you're willing to take the hospitality on its own terms," Clodagh told him. To Dr. Fiske she added, "Petaybee offers you more than you could ever take from it by force. This doesn't have to be a fight."

"That's right," Yana said, leaning forward and talking with all the persuasion at her command. "The company's just been trying to develop the wrong things so far. This planet offers absolutely unique opportunities to study its inner life-providing you can find some extremely dedicated people able for the challenge. And that's the resource the company most needs to develop-the people."

"I suppose we could send scientists down to instruct them in the proper procedure," Dr. Fiske said slowly.

"You send them," Clodagh said, nodding. "We'll teach proper procedure. But you'll see, it will work."

"We'll send equipment-comm units, computer linkups."

"Some maybe," Clodagh said. "But not too many. Too noisy. Petaybee wouldn't like it. Just send a couple of teachers who don't mind the cold and can teach us reading and writing. That's quieter."

Just then the guard returned with the comm link Torkel had sent for. Torkel accepted the equipment and set it on his knees.

"Now then, we'll see what's going on here," he said. "Computer, I want files on O'Shay…"

"Richard Arnaluk, sir," O'Shay helpfully provided.

"And Greene…"

"John Kevin Intiak Greene the Third, sir," Greene told him. "My crew members were Corporal Winona Sorenson, deceased, Specialist Fourth Class Ingunuk J. Keelaghan, deceased, Lieutenant Michael Huyukchuk, wounded in action-"

"Wait a minute," Torkel said. "These names sound Petay-bean."

O'Shay shrugged."They are-native-born or Petaybean stock. Same's true, I think, for most of the replacement troops shipped down with me. And the survivors we picked up near the volcano."

"Computer, access personnel list for troops transferred to planet Petaybee, code name Operation Mop-Up. Cross-reference by planet of origin or descent and provide statistical data of composition of total numbers."

After a moment of frantically scanning the screen, Torkel looked up suspiciously at Scan. "This can't be right. Unless your planet can manipulate troop movements by remote control." "Why? What does it say?"

"Eighty-eight percent of the troops deployed here for Mop-Up are of Petaybean origin."

Scan gave a low whistle. "Imagine that. I didn't know we'd sent so many people away. Did you, Clodagh?" "I sure didn't."

"Computer, audio, please. Explain how such a large percentage of personnel assigned to Operation Mop-Up are of local origin."

"This system cross-indexed physical and psychological requirements necessary for ground duty on an arctic-type planet. The personnel selected were the best qualified to function at appropriate levels on such a planet."

"Torkel," Yana said, leaning forward and slightly to the side to watch the screen. "While we're on the subject of the quantity of Petaybean troops involved, why don't you check statistical data concerning the service records of those with Petaybee as planet of origin as compared to those of the corps as a whole?"

"Computer?" Torkel asked, and gave it the data request.

"Petaybean personnel on the average receive seventy-five percent more commendations, sixty percent more bonuses, and eighty-nine percent more decorations than troops of other places of origin. However, they are promoted through the ranks ten point five times slower than other personnel, and only twenty-one point eight-nine-five percent of Petaybeans become senior officers.

Yana lifted her eyebrows at Torkel and permitted herself a small, smug smile. "See? These people are definitely worthwhile to the company, and definitely worth developing."

Torkel raised an eyebrow back at her. "As long as they're never removed from the planet to do what they're worth developing for?"

Sean broke in. "Many of our people are perfectly happy to serve the company and see the universe. You just have to recruit them early."

"And I think if the company worked with Petaybeans on the research, compensatory devices could be used to offset the incompatibility between Petaybean adaptive characteristics and space travel," Yana said. "That is what I was trying to tell you before."

Torkel shut down the comm link with a snap, and Sean grinned broadly.

"It's okay, son," Dr. Fiske told Torkel.

But Torkel shook his head uneasily. "It's not okay, Dad. We're in an intolerable situation, disadvantaged. There're not only more of them, they're the company's best troops but, being here, their loyalty is compromised. We're at their mercy."

"Fortunately for you, Captain," Clodagh said, handing him a cup of hot drink and a hunk of bread, "we're extremely merciful around here. Sprinkle a little of this on your bread. You'll see how tasty it is." She passed over an herb jar and, unusually compliant, Torkel shook it over his bread.

Dr. Fiske smiled at his son as one of the marmalade cats jumped into Torkel's lap and began purring. For a moment, Torkel stiffened, wavering briefly between rejection and acceptance. He took a sip of the drink and a bite of the bread. After several more sips and bites, he gave a deep resigned sigh and finally relaxed, leaning back in his chair, the cat firmly in charge.

"Look here," O'Shay began tentatively, appealing to Clodagh, "if there're that many Petaybeans come home to roost, d'you think we could have a latchkay to celebrate?"

"The very thing," Aisling agreed happily.

"Now that," Scan said, "is one of the best ideas I've heard in days. It would undoubtedly settle a lot of qualms and answer some of the questions you haven't thought of yet, Dr. Fiske, Steve."

"Well," Yana said, rising, "since confusion has died down to mere chaos, I'd really appreciate a decent bath and change of clothes." She looked askance at the riddled remainder of her shirt.

"I'm not exactly as clean as I'd like to be either," Scan said. Also rising, he took Yana by the arm and began leading her to the door. Then he stopped. "You wouldn't mind dismissing that guard now, would you, Captain Fiske?"

"I will," said Whittaker Fiske, rising and doing exactly that.

Yana could not believe the relief that washed over her as she and Sean stepped out into the fresh air. The whilom guard had dispersed like snowmelt on a hot day. She inhaled, half expecting the previous days' exertions to result in a paroxysm of coughing.

"You won't have that trouble ever again," Sean said as he guided her toward the path to the hot springs.

"Wait, I'll need clothes," she said, half towing him in the direction of her house.

"There's always something left about at the springs," he said, and pulled her back to his side, grinning with a boyishness that surprised her.

Laughing, she let herself be held. "Is it wrong of me to want to wash some of Petaybee off?" She asked, buoyant with relief and with his presence.

"You can never wash Petaybee off completely, Yanaba Mad-dock. Not now! You're stuck with us, love." And then he threw back his head and gave an odd call.