ides.

After the warp-drive shift, Vorongil came to his cabin, this time crisp
and businesslike.

"We're back in your galaxy," he said, "among the stars you know. We have
no passenger space on the _Swiftwing_; we had to ship out without
replacing Rugel, which means we're short two men. I've no authority to
ask this of you, but--would you like your old job back for the rest of
the voyage?"

Bart glanced at his human hands.

Vorongil shrugged. "We've carried Mentorians as full-ranking
Astrogators. There don't happen to be any on the _Swiftwing_. But
there's no law about it."

Bart looked the old Lhari in the eye. "I won't accept Mentorian terms,
Vorongil."

"I wouldn't ask it. You worked your way outward on this run, and the
High Council didn't see fit to erase those memories or inhibit them. Why
should I? Do you want it or not?"

Did he want it? Until this moment Bart had not identified the worst of
his pain and defeat--to travel as a passenger, a supercargo, when he had
once been part of the _Swiftwing_. Literally he ached to be back with it
again. "I do, _rieko mori_."

"Very well," Vorongil rapped, "see that you turn out next watch!" He
spun round and walked out. His tone was no longer gently indulgent, but
sharp and distant. Bart, at first surprised, suddenly understood.

Not now a prisoner, a passenger, a guest on the _Swiftwing_. He was part
of the crew again--and Vorongil was his captain.

The Lhari crew were oddly constrained at first. But Ringg was the same
as always, and before long they were almost on the old terms. With every
watch, it seemed, he was building a bridge between man and Lhari. They
accepted him.

But for what? Something might come, in the far future, of his
acceptance, but he wouldn't get the benefit of it. This would be his
only voyage; after this he'd be chained again, crawling from planet to
planet of a single sun. And as warp-shift followed warp-shift, the
_Swiftwing_ retracing the path of her outward cruise star by star, Bart
said farewell to them.

One day, at last, he stood at the viewport, watching Procyon Alpha
nearing. A year ago, frightened, terribly alone, still unsteady on his
new Lhari muscles and terrified by the monsters that were his shipmates,
he had watched these planets spinning away. Poor old Rugel, poor old
Baldy!

Behind him, Meta came into the lounge.

"Bart--"

He turned to face her. "It won't be much longer, Meta. Tomorrow I'll
find out what the Fe