eaving a
faint cloud of perfume in her wake and a disturbing memory of curving,
golden tan legs and a flat little stomach that had been exposed both
north and south to the extreme limits of modesty.

"A personnel supervisor from Beachville," Larue said. "She was
sunbathing when the plane arrived to pick her up and had no time to
obtain other clothing. Father Brenn firmly insisted upon losing not
one minute of time during this emergency."

A crane rumbled into view and its grapples seized the huge object that
had fallen.

"Our central air-conditioning unit," Larue said. "It had to go."

"You're putting something else in its place, of course?"

"Oh yes. We must have more space but Father Brenn opposed the plan of
building an annex as too dangerously time consuming. The only
alternative is to tear out everything not absolutely essential."

Kane left shortly afterward, satisfied that the Saints were doing as
Brenn had said.

* * * * *

He went back out in the spring sunshine where the turbo-car was still
waiting for him, debated briefly with himself, and dismissed the
driver. After so many weeks in the prison-like ship, it would be
pleasant to walk again.

[Illustration]

A grassy, tree-covered ridge ran like the swell of a green sea
between the plant and the town. He stopped on top of it, where the
town was almost hidden from view, and looked out across the wide
valley. Shadows moved lazily across it as cotton-puff clouds drifted
down the blue dome of the sky, great white birds like swans were
soaring overhead, calling to one another in voices like the singing of
violins, bringing again the memories of the Lost Islands--

"And the Vogarian lord gazed upon his world and found it good!"

He swung around, his hand dropping to his holstered blaster, and
looked into the green, mocking eyes of a tawny-haired girl. She was
beautiful, in the savage way that the hill leopards of Vogar were
beautiful, and her hand was on a pistol in her belt.

Her eyes flickered from his blaster up to his face, bright with
challenge.

"Want to try it?" she asked.

She wore a short skirt of some rough material and her knees were
dusty, as though she had walked for a long way. These things he
noticed only absently, his eyes going back to the bold, beautiful
face. For twenty years he had been accustomed to the women of Vogar;
colorless in their Party uniforms and men's haircuts, made even more
drab by