und there was more than
a couple of months old; nothing since the last rainy season in India,
for instance. Everything was cleaned out on Skordran Kirv's end."

"Tell him to try the Mississippi, Missouri and Ohio Valleys," Tortha
Karf said. "A lot of those slaves are sure to have been sold to Second
Level Khiftan Sector."

"Well, it looks as though our vacation's out the window for a long
time," Dalla said resignedly.

"Why don't you and Vall go to my farm, on Fifth Level Sicily," Tortha
Karf suggested. "I own the whole island, on that time line, and you
can always be reached in a hurry if anything comes up."

"We could have as much fun there as on the Dwarma Sector," Dalla
said. "Chief, could we take a couple of friends along?"

"Well, who?"

"Zinganna and Kostran Galth," she replied. "They've gotten interested
in one another; they're talking about a tentative marriage."

"It'll have to be mighty tentative," Vall said. "Kostran Galth can't
marry a Prole."

"She won't be a Prole very long. I'm going to adopt her as my sister."

Tortha Karf looked at her sharply. "You sure you know what you're
doing, Dalla?" he asked.

"Of course I'm sure. I know that girl better than she knows herself. I
narco-hypped her, remember. Zinna's the kind of a sister I've always
wished I'd had."

"Well, that's all right then. But about this marriage. She was in love
with Salgath Trod," Tortha Karf said. "Now, she's identifying Agent
Kostran with him--"

"She was in love with the kind of man Salgath could have been if he
hadn't gotten into this Organization filth," Dalla replied. "Galth is
that kind of a man. They'll get along all right."

"Well, she'll qualify on IQ and general psych rating for Citizenship.
I'll say that. And she's the kind of girl I like to see my boys take
up with. Like you, Dalla. Yes, of course; take them along with you.
Sicily's big enough that two couples won't get in each others' way."

A phone-robot, its slender metal stem topped by a metal globe, slid
into the room on its ball-rollers, moving falteringly, like a blind
man. It could sense Tortha Karf's electro-encephalic wave-patterns,
but it was having trouble locating the source. They all sat
motionless, waiting; finally it came over to Tortha Karf's chair and
stopped. He unhooked the phone and held a lengthy whispered
conversation with somebody before replacing it.

"Now, there," he explained to Dalla. "That's a sample of why we have
to set up th