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you do, concepts involving three-dimensional space, for instance. But you’ve got more, uh, a higher social IQ.’ He had grinned. ‘A theory unpopular on Earth. Intellectuals hate to admit that beings who have wars and taboos and the rest can be further evolved than their own noble selves, who obviously have none.’
    Larreka remembered the words in the English which had been used. Fascinated by humans since their first arrival, he had seen as much of them as he could manage and learned everything about them and from them that he was able. This was rather more than he let on to his followers or his brother officers; it wouldn’t have fitted his character as a rough, tough old mudfoot. Language had been no problem to afellow who’d knocked around half the globe and always quickly found how to ask local people for directions, help, food, beer, housing, sex, whatever he wanted. Besides, English was very narrow in range and choice of sounds. Humans could never match the voice or hearing of even a male Ishtarian. He admired them for plowing their way through Sehalan anyhow.
    When they were so pitifully short-lived, too. A single sixty-four or less, and they needed special medicines to keep their strength. Before the end of the second sixty-four, that was no help either. … Larreka unconsciously quickened his pace a bit. He wanted to enjoy his friends while he had them.
    More urgent was his errand among them. He carried evil news.
    Primavera was houses and other buildings along asphalt streets shaded by the red and yellow foliage of big old native trees which had been left in place when the area was originally cleared, their soil tended to keep them alive amidst alien growth. It rose in gentle slopes from a landing on the Jayin where boats lay docked and vessels of Ishtarian river traffic paid calls; the inhabitants manufactured a few articles like rotproof fabrics to trade for many of their needs. They built largely in native materials, wood, stone, brick – though the glass they made was superior to anything of Beronnen – and added light bright paint. A road ran east, vanishing over a ridge, eventually to reach the spacefield. A kilometer outside of town it passed by the airport, where flyers were kept for long-range transportation. Around home people used groundcars, cycles, and feet.
    Ishtarians were too common in Primavera to draw special attention unless they were individually well known. Larreka only was to long-term residents. And not many persons were outdoors at this hour, when adults were at work and children at school. He had reached Stubbs Park, was about to short-cut through it and grab a drink of water at the fountain in the middle, before he was hailed.
    First, he heard the purr of a large flywheeler at high speed, followed by a squeal of braking. To drive like that in townwould have been unforgivably reckless in most, but not quite all. He wasn’t surprised to recognize Jill Conway’s throaty shout.
    ‘Larreka! Old Sugar Uncle himself!
Hi,
there!’ She unsnapped her safety harness, sprang from the saddle and out between the roll bars, left the vehicle balanced while she hurled herself into his arms.
    At length, ‘M-m-m,’ she murmured, stood back, cocked her head, and surveyed him centimeter by centimeter. ‘You’re looking good. Worked some fat off, have you? But why the deuce didn’t you let me know you were coming? I’d’ve baked a cake.’
    ‘Maybe that was why,’ he teased in her English.
    ‘Aw, switch it off, will you? The trouble with a life-span like yours is you develop no sense of time. My culinary disasters didn’t happen yesterday, they were twenty years ago. I’m a grown lady now, people keep wistfully telling me, and you’ll be surprised how well I cook. I must admit, you never did anything more heroic than eat those things a little girl made for her Sugar Uncle.’
    They smiled at each other, a gesture common to both species though human lips curved rather than quirked