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start. But Sphere Sol had not been able to handle galactic matters effectively; thus the fringe planet of Outworld, which possessed strong Polarian currents, had moved into prominence. Outworld's system of Etamin had taken over the segment without ever forming a sphere; perhaps that was one reason the spheres were willing to accede to it. Outworld's interest was the segment, nothing else. If the segment fell apart, Outworld would be nothing.
    The man guided her to a larger chamber set with plush chairs contoured for Solarian torsos. “Sit down, my dear,” he said. “The Colonel will arrive in a moment.”
    Melody plumped down. The man looked away.
    â€œBetter close your legs,” Yael advised.
    â€œLegs? Why? They're comfortable.”
    â€œThe dress—it spreads when you sit, so he can see up inside your thighs. That's not supposed to happen.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œWell, it—he–it just isn't–”
    â€œGirl, you're dischordant!” Melody was aware that she was invoking another imprecision of the language; to her a musical chord was good and a dischord unpleasant, but the human “discord” was unrelated. Well, she could not be held responsible for the inadequacies of human speech. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
    Yael was obviously embarrassed; Melody felt her reactions. “When a man sees up a girl's legs, he gets all excited, unless he's a doctor. Same as when he sees into her blouse. Sex, you know.”
    â€œOh, that's right! Solarians are sexed entities,” Melody said, remembering. She had been acutely conscious of this all along, yet had overlooked it because she had been thinking in terms of mammaries. “They cover themselves so carefully to avoid visual stimulation.” She pulled her legs together.
    â€œDidn't you know?” Yael asked, surprised. “You were so worried about impregnation–”
    Melody was amazed. “You mean sex is connected with impregnation?”
    â€œWell of course!” Yael laughed with embarrassment. “How else can–”
    â€œDo you know, I never really made the connection?” Melody said. “I knew the sight of mammaries caused the male to impregnate the female, but the concept of sexuality itself—I mean as an aspect of looking at the genital organs—well, Mintakans are basically neuter, and the genitals are always exposed. We don't have sex play in that sense.”
    Now Yael was amazed. “Then how do you—make more Mintakans?”
    â€œWe bud them, of course. Gender has nothing to do with it, except as gender is affected by reproduction. And most buds are produced by paired males.” Then, as an afterthought: “But if seeing up legs has the same effect as seeing mammaries, I'll certainly keep my legs covered. Why didn't you choose a longer skirt?”
    â€œWell, a girl wants to have some sex appeal.”
    â€œI don't understand that at all!”
    â€œI don't understand Mintakan sex either.”
    â€œBut I explained it!” Obviously the girl's limitation of intellect was the problem here. “Still, I should have grasped the pervasiveness of human sexuality from my Tarot studies. This shows how ignorant an entity can be, despite intensive study.”
    â€œBut aren't you female? Transfer can't change sex.”
    â€œI am female now. However, if–”
    â€œI'm getting confused again.”
    The Colonel arrived: old, brisk, suave, sure. “So the little girl is with us at last,” he remarked, glancing down at Melody. “Orderly, fetch some ice cream.”
    â€œLittle girl?” Yael inquired internally. She had no voice except when Melody expressly facilitated it. “My body is twenty years old.”
    â€œThat's only two and a half Mintakan years,” Melody told her. “I'm four times your age, chronologically.” Then she did a human double take. “Ten Mintakan