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looking." They did-at the ship from several views, at the body of a woman whose abdomen lay open and empty, and finally...
    "I do not understand. Is this a mask, a costume?"
    Liesel shook her head. "Bran Tregare wouldn't make such fuss over a masquerade. No-somebody's found more of the aliens, the ones UET
    stole star travel from."
    "Not quite," said Tregare. "They've found us."
    "Then for peace' sake, drop the dramatics and tel us about it!"
    "I got these from Raoul Vanois on Carcharodon-used to be UET's General Leamington. What it was, I want him to join me-he's in low orbit for money, so I offered for a con-trolling interest, him to stay on as ship's commander. We didn't quite meet terms but I think he'll take it.
    "He couldn't seem to keep his mind on the business so I asked him, 'Something you ate?' Then he showed me what I'm showing you. Look down the pile two-three more; you'll see there's no question-the two humans are about average size."
    It was the third-next picture. The man and woman on each side were unmemorable, but the creature between them ...
    "Vanois thinks the colors are a little off, but not badly."
    "They are quite close," said Rissa.
    Tregare gripped her wrist. "What-?"
    Her eyes went wide. "I had forgotten! Pictures-my father kept them hidden, except to show us once. Contraband?
    But now I remember-the thing so tall beside a man, and much thinner."
    She looked more closely. "This one wears a cap, but they are bald. And yes-" She pointed out the all-black eyes, triangles pointing downward, with a pair of spurs or tendrils above each. Ears like half-cups opening forward, no sign of nose or nostrils. Below the shallow-angled mouth, an inverted V, no line of chin or jaw; the face tapered smoothly to the long neck. "A brighter ocher color than this, I think, and the brown markings that accent the features-almost like clown makeup-are not so discrete. On my father's pictures the colors shaded more gradually. The hands are hidden, but-"
    "In other pictures, they look a lot like ours," said Tregare, "only longer and thinner. Not the feet, though-they're toe-walkers, like a dog or horse; the heel's a hock. That's where most of the extra height comes from."
    "All right," Liesel said, "I'm sold on the exhibit. But what's the story?"
    "There's a fairly new Hidden World called 'Charleyhorse' because of the high gravity-hard work really gives you a beating. Vanois- Carcharodon- landed at their main settle-ment, only a few hundred people, and found the locals run-ning around in circles, half hysterical. These aliens-the Shrakken, if he pronounced it halfway right-had been there nearly half a year and just left. Vanois missed them by less than a week."
    "But, Bran-why were the people so disturbed? After so long, had they not adjusted to the existence of these-Shrak-ken?"
    "It wasn't that. After the first shock, the folks found the Shrakken friendly enough. Some of them learned our lan-guage; apparently nobody could learn theirs. So everyone thought what you might expect-that here's a whole new culture to trade ideas with. But-" He thumbed through the pictures and held one up. "But then this happened." It was the dead woman.
    "The Shrakken did that? But why, Bran?"
    "That's the worst of it, Rissa-Vanois doesn't know. What he was told-now believe this if you can-is that it was an ac-cident."
    "Accident?" Liesel sniffed loudly. "Gutted like a bush-stomper hung up in the market? What kind of accident is that?"
    "She was found like this beside a stream, clothes piled neatly on the bank. Swimming in the raw, I expect. And Charleyhorse has such a nudity taboo, likely the Shrakken had never seen anyone naked. The idea seems to be that they didn't know her for human."
    "But still-" Liesel beat a fist against her other palm. "Why, and how, did they do that?"
    "Vanois couldn't find out. Whether the people there knew or not-he thinks they did-they wouldn't tel it. What they did say, though-well, thinking they were on friendly