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derogatory after all. He must have ordered Junior to keep an eye on me. I looked back at the clearing just in time to see another male, this one with dark gray hair, take up the position Junior had vacated.
    So I rated my own guard, did I? Well, if Junior thought he was going to spend the rest of the day holding up a tree, he had another thought coming.
     

    It had been my experience that societies with low technology tend to be uncomfortable approaching Max, so when I was on a job, I always set up Quonset huts to live and work in. Since the huts came preprogrammed to erect themselves, the hardest part of this task involved wrestling the boxes onto the antigrav sled for transportation.
    By the time we reached Max, the cargo hatch was down, and the hold’s conveyor belts had stacked the boxes in the opening. Crigo, who had arrived seconds before Junior and me, was sprawled in the shadows at the edge of the jungle. Giving the rock cat a wide berth, Junior chose his own tree and leaned against it.
    They had the right idea, I decided. It was hotter than Inferno in midsummer, so it only made good sense to set the huts up where they would be shaded by the trees. It would also impede any line-of-sight surveillance the Dynatec crew endeavored.
    There also didn’t seem to be as much flying insect life in the jungle. The plains abounded in the speedy little critters. A swarm went by me doing about 140 kilometers per hour, and I used my superfast reflexes to delicately pluck one of them from the group for a better look.
    Yep, they certainly were ugly things. They had long, nasty-looking proboscises and orange eyes. But their bodies were streamlined for speed and they had six wings.
    Yetch. I released it in a hurry and went back to what I was doing, wiping my fingers on my leg to divest myself of any leftover bug juice that might be contaminating me.
    Retrieving a laser cutter from the cargo bay, I walked a few steps into the jungle and looked around. The brush wasn’t quite so thick once you got past the outer edge, and I could see the trees gradually became bigger the farther away they grew from the grassy plain.
    A movement in the over-canopy caught my attention, and I glanced up in time to see a tiny creature the size of my hand flit from one flowered vine to another, chittering as it went. It resembled nothing so much as a miniature dragon, but instead of scales, it was covered in jewel-toned feathers.
    It landed by gripping the vine with tiny talons and then delicately sipped from a flower. And it wasn’t alone. Now that I’d noticed the first one, there seemed to be hundreds of them, filling the trees with flashes of brilliant color that rivaled the flowers for sheer beauty.
    A few of them noticed me watching and flitted closer, heads tilting from side to side as they studied me intently. One of my observers, a brilliant iridescent green fellow, dangled upside down from a vine not two feet in front of me and gurgled inquisitively.
    I couldn’t help smiling at their antics. “Friend,” I told them, on the off chance they might understand. It seemed to work. With satisfied cheeps, they went back to flower hopping.
    The more I saw of Orpheus Two, the more I liked it, and that worried me. Agents couldn’t allow themselves to get too attached to a place or a people. Not only did it lead to bias, which could skew the findings, it caused undue upset and heartache when it was time to leave. And that time always came.
    Shaking my head, I went to work clearing a space big enough for the huts, and making a path through the thicker brush so I could reach Max without having to fight my way out. When I was done, I put the laser cutter away and then motioned for Junior.
    His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t move. With a sigh, I walked over to him, took his hand, and pulled. He planted both feet and refused to budge.
    I glanced at Crigo, who was still sprawled under a nearby tree, front legs crossed as he looked on with amusement. “Hey,