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breakfast, I assured myself that at least things couldn't get any worse—but I was
wrong about that.
    I'd just thrown the
plate into the grinder when the door buzzer sounded. When I opened the door, I found
myself looking at two Spirellans.
    My immediate
instinct was to close the door—not because I have anything against Spirellans
in general, but because these two were wearing gaudy clothing to signal the
fact that they were unmated males not yet established in the status hierarchy.
The ways in which a Spirellan can win a good place in the hierarchy of his clan
are said to be many and varied, but not many of them apply in a place like
Skychain City, where there are so many aliens. The ways in which Spirellans can
win status by dealing with aliens mostly involve doing them down—and to a
Spirellan, I was an alien of no particular importance.
    There are half a
hundred humanoid species regarded by the Tetrax as utter barbarians, and they'd
probably reckon Spirellans to be on exactly the same level as humans. I'd have
put them a little lower, but I could see how the Spirellans might be biased the
other way.
    I let them in,
politely. In order to get along in a place where hundreds of humanoid races rub
shoulders on a day- to-day basis, you have to suppress your instincts.
    "My name is
Heleb," said the taller of the two, as his eyes scanned my room with
patience and exactitude. "I believe that you are Michael Rousseau."
    I wasn't offended by
the fact that he wasn't looking at me. He was being polite. When one
status-seeking Spirellan male makes eye contact with another, it's a
challenge—not necessarily to a fight, but a contest of some sort. On the other
hand, I wasn't under any illusion about not being in a contest.
    "That's
right," I confirmed.
    "It has come
to the notice of my employer that you are looking for work," he said. He
spoke well, but he had an unfair advantage. Spirellans don't look much like
Tetrax— they have blue-and-pink marbled skin and two very pronounced skull
ridges, which make them look rather like lizards with winged helmets, while the
Tetrax look more like moon-faced gorillas with skins like waxed black tree
bark—but they have similar mouth-parts, with flattened upper palates and
protean tongues.
    "Are you from
the Co-ordinated Research Establishment?" I asked, warily.
    "No," he
said. "Put your mind at rest, Michael Rousseau. We do not operate in the
conservative fashion that the Tetrax adopt. I believe that you would find our
ways of working much more in tune with your own. We are adventurers."
    "I'm
considering several alternative offers at present," I told him. "If
you would care to tell me the name of your employer and details of your offer,
I'll certainly consider it carefully." While I said it I watched his
junior partner moving around my room. He seemed to be going to extraordinary
lengths to make certain that there was no danger of our eyes meeting. In fact,
he seemed to be paying very close attention to the contents of my shelves, even
though he couldn't possibly have understood either of the languages in which
the titles of my books and tapes were inscribed. He was definitely looking for
something, although I couldn't imagine what.
    Heleb flashed me
the Spirellan equivalent of a smile, although the fact that his eyes were
carefully averted gave it an implication of slyness he couldn't have intended.
"I would take charge of one of the trucks myself," he told me,
proudly. "There would be five of us, including my brother Lema." He
paused to nod in the direction of his companion. "We would be very glad to
have you with us. We need a man of your experience. In time, we will be
experienced too, but we need good guidance, and we know that you are the man to
provide it. We would hire you for one expedition only, and would pay you
generously. If you wish, you would then have credit enough to outfit an
expedition of your own—although we would be glad to offer you the opportunity
to accompany