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A very fat man sat at what was clearly the head of the table. A half-empty bowl of the gray-brown nuggets was at his elbow, and his hands were clasped in front of him. He looked extremely upset. His skin was flushed a darker blue than that of the other Alilann surrounding him, and Chakotay had a mild fear for his health.

As they approached, the man rose with not a little ef-

fort. "Implementer," said Ezbai, "may I present Commander Chakotay of the Starship Voyager."

"So," wheezed the Implementer, regarding Chakotay with piggy blue eyes, "this is the one you managed to get, eh? I apologize, Commander. I understand that you had to suffer through the Culilann's barbarous Ordeal. If Shamraa Ezbai had been doing his job correctly, you and your friend would never have fallen into their clutches in the first place."

Beside Chakotay, Ezbai flushed blue, but said nothing. He stood rigidly straight. Chakotay felt embarrassed on his behalf.

"I'm none the worse for my Ordeal, and it was Shamraa Ezbai who did Recover me, as you pointed out. Besides, I don't count my time among the Culilann as wasted. You have two fascinating cultures on this planet."

There were disapproving murmurs around the table. The Implementer's piggy eyes went cold, and Chakotay suddenly realized he had no desire to get on this man's bad side, comical though he might be at times.

"We don't consider what the Culilann do to be, ah, cultural," said the Implementer. Nods of agreement went around the table this time, as if everyone else were sheep to this man's ram. There was an expression of faint disgust on all the faces. Chakotay recognized the same contempt and hostility that Yurula, the mate of the man who had healed them, had displayed when she was talking about the Alilann. He realized that he had blundered onto a very sensitive subject, and while he could feel his own righteous anger rising at the slurs against the people who had treated him so kindly, he forced himself to smile pleasantly.

"Commander Chakotay knows of my sister," blurted

Ezbai. "We were to debrief him in the morning, but since everyone is gathered here-"

"Shamraa," said the Implementer, sitting back down in a chair that seemed far too small to hold his great weight, "we will discuss that later. You brought Commander Chakotay here for another reason. Or have you forgotten?"

"N-no, Implementer." Ezbai's voice was a whisper. The big bully had him totally cowed. Chakotay decided he really, really didn't like the Implementer.

"Please sit, Commander." The Implementer waved a fat hand, then lowered the hand into the bowl. He popped a few nuggets into his mouth and chewed. "Have some articrunch," he suggested. "These things are so tasty. And I bet you're hungering after some real food after your time with the Culilann."

Chakotay sat down. Ezbai slid into the seat beside him. Chakotay looked at the dry, unappetizing nuggets that were called "articrunch." The very name quelled any hunger he might be experiencing. He thought back to the feast with which the Culilann had initiated him and Tom into their rank. Fruits picked at their ripest. Fish and birds and other meats roasted to perfection, basted with fruit juices and served with mashed roots and tubers. Sweet desserts, tangy savories, all manner of food infinitely more "real" than this bowl of brown crunchy things.

"No, thank you," he said with exaggerated politeness. "I'm still full from dinner."

"More for me, then," said the Implementer, and laughed uproariously at his own joke. Halfhearted titters went around the table. Chakotay was rapidly coming to the conclusion that, aside from Ezbai, he didn't really like any of the Alilann he had met.

His gaze fell to the table. There was a metallic rec-

tangle embedded in the surface. As he regarded it, it hummed to life and glowed bright green.

"Please place your right hand on the tester, if you would, Commander. It won't harm you," the Implementer said.

"What is it?"