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Though Sara had been aboard just a few days, she was adapting to the convenience of modern tools.
    A mirrorlike rectangle appeared before the council, reflecting fiery prominences from a broad, planar surface.
    â€œI may be an ignorant native,” Sara commented. “But it seems one could collect atoms out of a stellar windusing something with high surface area and small initial mass. Such a vehicle might not even have to expend energy departing, if it rode outward on the pressure of light waves.”
    Lieutenant Tsh’t murmured.
    â€œA sssolar sail!”
    â€œIs that what you call it?” Sara nodded. “Imagine machines arriving through the transfer point as compact objects, plummeting down to Izmunuti, then unfurling such sails and catching a free ride back to the t-point, gaining layers of this molecularly unique carbon, and other stuff along the way. Energy expenditures per ton of yield would be minimal!”
    The whirling Niss hologram edged forward.
    â€œYour hypothesis suggests an economical resource-gathering technique, providing the mechanoids needn’t make more than one simple hyperspatial transfer, coming or going. There are cheap alternatives in industrialized regions of the Five Galaxies, but here in Galaxy Four, industry is currently minimal or nil, due to the recent fallow-migration
—” The Niss paused briefly.
    â€œMechanoids would be ideal contractors for such a harvesting chore, creating special versions to do the job swiftly, with minimal mass. It explains why their drives and shields seem frail before the rising storms. They had no margin for the unexpected.”
    Gillian saw that just half of the orange glitters remained, struggling to flee Izmunuti’s gravity before more plasma surges caught them. The three purple dots had already climbed toward the mechanoid convoy, ascending with graceful ease.
    â€œWhat about the Zang?” she asked.
    â€œI surmise they are the mechanoids’ employers. Our Library says Zang groups sometimes hire special services from the Machine Order. Great clans of oxygen breathers also do it, now and then.”
    â€œWell, it seems their plans have been ripped,” commented Suessi. “Not much cargo getting home, this time.”
    Pensive whistle ratchets escaped the gray dolphin in the water-filled tunnel—not Trinary, but the scatteredclicks a cetacean emits when pondering deeply. Gillian still felt guilty about asking Kaa to volunteer for this mission, since it meant abandoning his lover to danger on Jijo. But
Streaker
needed a first-class pilot for this desperate ploy.
    â€œI concur,”
the whirling Niss hologram concluded.
“The Zang will be in a foul mood after this setback.”
    â€œBecause they suffered economic loss?” Tsh’t asked.
    â€œThat and more. According to the Library, hydrogen breathers react badly to surprise. They have slower metabolisms than oxy-life. Anything unpredictable is viscerally unpleasant to them.
    â€œOf course, this attitude is strange to an entity like me, programmed by the Tymbrimi to seek novelty! Without surprise, how can you tell there is an objective world? You might as well presume the whole universe is one big sim
—”
    â€œWait a minute,” Gillian interrupted, before the Niss got sidetracked in philosophy. “We’re all taught to avoid Zang as dangerous, leaving contact to experts from the Great Institutes.”
    â€œThat is right.”
    â€œBut now you’re saying they may be especially angry? Possibly short-tempered?”
    The Niss hologram coiled tensely.
    â€œAfter three years together, Dr. Baskin—amid growing familiarity with your voice tones and thought patterns—your latest inquiry provokes uneasy feelings.
    â€œAm I justified to be wary?
    â€œDo you find the notion of short-tempered Zang … appealing?”
    Gillian kept silent. But she allowed a grim, enigmatic smile.

Harry
    F IVE