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soil.
    He had just withdrawn his penis when someone grabbed him from behind. It was Weea, his egg mother. She'd come looking for an empty pot and found her son using the holy fluid to water the sterile soil of a storage room.
    Without a word she dragged him through tunnels, up a ramp, and out into the hot sun. The fields were small. Each had been wrested from the grasp of the desert by constant toil and the careful application of holy fluid.
    One belonged to his father, a stern male of unyielding discipline, and as Weea jerked him along fear grew in his belly. What would his father do? He'd knowingly violated one of the sept's most closely held taboos. Whatever the punishment it would be swift and terrible.
    His father looked up at Weea's approach, his eyes lost in the shadow of his supraorbital ridge. His tail came up to shade the back of his head as thick fingers wrapped and unwrapped themselves around the handle of his hoe. "Greetings, Weea. What brings my mate and youngest son out into this heat?"
    Weea bowed her respect. "Greetings, Deeg. Your son asks many questions about male work . . . and wishes to observe your labors."
    Deeg frowned. "His interest is fitting. But the sun is hot, too hot for one as young as my son, perhaps another time."
    "Your concern for your son's health does you honor, Deeg, but I ask an exception this day, for I believe the experience will teach him much."
    Deeg was puzzled. Weea was rarely this assertive, but when she was, he'd learned to listen, so his tail signaled assent. "It shall be as you request. Come over here, son, and sit down on that boundary rock. Watch, and you will learn of male work."
    For the next four hours he watched his father work. Watched as his father broke the ground with an iron bar, watched as he placed each seed into the thin soil by hand, and watched as he watered each seed with the holy fluid.
    The merciless sun beat down all the while, leeching every bit of moisture from his skin, heating the rock until he could no longer bear to sit on it.
    Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, first work was over and his father led him from the fields.
    Nothing more was ever said to him regarding the importance of the holy fluid. There was no need. He'd seen his father work, felt the searing heat of the sun, and understood what Weea wanted him to learn. To waste water was to waste life itself.
    As the memory faded away McCade found himself looking at Teeb. The alien's eyes glowed and his voice was tight with anger.
    "This proves nothing. The story is a famous one often told to Il Ronnian children. Who knows how the humans learned of it, but it makes little difference since he will fail the next test."
    McCade thought the others looked doubtful, but being no expert on Il Ronnian facial expressions, he couldn't be sure.
    "The candidate has passed the first test," Teeb said grudgingly. "Two more await him prior to acceptance. Is the candidate ready?"
    McCade tried to concentrate, but he was dizzy, and Teeb's words seemed to come from far, far away. It was hot, so very hot. He heard himself croak something in reply, and did his best to listen as Teeb asked the next question.
    "It is known that the great one went forth as an Ilwig to test himself in the desert. While there he found the bracelet you now wear, but he found something else as well, something he later claimed was even more important. What was it?"
    Teeb's voice seemed to echo off into the distance and McCade spoke without knowing that he did so. He felt the bracelet on his wrist, a warm and glowing presence, anticipating the excitement it would generate when he came home. But that would have to wait since three day-cycles remained before he could return.
    Always hungry, he decided to test his skill as a hunter, and approached a lonely water hole. Like most water holes this one was a sometimes thing, here briefly during the spring, quickly sinking out of sight as the hot hand of summer gripped the land.
    A thousand