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“Far too much,” Lunzie said, not at all amused. “Generally the Federation doesn’t know of a takeover unless dissidents among the pirates inform. Then it’s too late.”

“When is ‘too late’ too late to punish criminal activity?” Kai demanded, obviously referring to the mutiny, not the piracy.

“The tribunal will decide that, Kai,” Lunzie said more kindly. “The ramifications are far too complex for my understanding of the laws. But, Kai, wouldn’t you say that senility and the knowledge of the futile outcome of forty-three years’ hard work constitute a punishment?” When she saw the obstinate set of Kai’s features, she shrugged. “What about consoling yourself with the knowledge that you’ve been instrumental in preventing the illegal occupation?”

“Say, are there Federation rewards for hindering pirates?” Triv asked.

Despite a spate of cheering at this suggestion, no one had an answer.

“What sort of reward could buy back the time we’ve lost,” Kai asked stiffly, “or the health?”

10

AFTER a dinner made lavish by the generosity of Commander Sassinak, Varian received a message from the cruiser, couched in the politest terms but nevertheless a firm request that Kai and Varian attend an important meeting on the cruiser at 0900. Kai was already asleep.

“Sleep he needs,” Lunzie said quietly. “He expended a good deal of energy today which he didn’t have, trying to find his Thek.” She beckoned Varian down the corridor to her quarters, away from the partitioned section where Kai lay sleeping. “C’mon. Let’s broach that brandy my discerning relative sent. This day has been a whozzer! Brandy’d go down a treat.”

Varian was quite willing to indulge and followed Lunzie to her compartment, which was now quite comfortable. The microscope held the place of honor on the wide working desk, where neat piles of notes and slides testified to the good use Lunzie had made of her afternoon. A cot, more shelves, a recorder, a viewer, and two comfortable chairs completed the furnishings.

The brandy uncorked with a satisfactory schewack, and Lunzie muttered admiringly under her breath as the amber liquid gurgled into the glasses. She passed one to Varian, inhaling the bouquet from hers and then, with a rare smile on her face, settled into the other chair. She lifted her beaker to clink against Varian’s.

“Here’s to the gods that grew!”

“And here’s to the soil that fed.”

The brandy went down smoothly until it hit the bottom of her throat. Then Varian found herself gulping cooler air, her eyes about to pop her skull. Tears formed and then dispersed as the fine aftertaste began to spread throughout her mouth and throat. Varian swore she could feel the nerves at the base of her spine untwist.

“That’s some skull-pop!” Her voice was a respectful whisper.

“Indeed!” Lunzie seemed not to feel the same effect, sipping again while Varian regarded her portion with considerable respect. The warmth and relaxation continued to diffuse. Varian took another small mouthful, expecting the fiery result. Somehow the brandy was mellower. Or her throat was numb. “Sverulan as a planet,” Lunzie went on, “has very little to recommend it other than the raw vegetable material that ferments into this brandy.” She gestured toward her notes on the table. “I’m hoping that Divisti found something equally good. I can’t imagine that the heavy-worlders could have existed long on this place without some sort of a stimulant.” She lifted her glass again.

“Lunzie?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you know something you haven’t told us?”

Lunzie’s eyes met Varian’s without hesitation or guile. “About Ireta? No. And certainly nothing about a planned piratical takeover. That was completely fortuitous. If you refer to the opportune appearance of the ZD-43 . . . Well, just as all elements of the Fleet have standing orders to pursue a leech when it appears on their sensors, so people like myself, on routine assignments,” and Lunzie accorded Varian a droll grin, “have been primed to obstruct attempts at planet theft whenever and however