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bleeding hearts on Earth and other human worlds have convinced themselves that the Dazh’pinkh really are believers in democracy, pluralism, free-market economics and all the rest. But in fact they’ve just memorized the right slogans. They’ve completely misinterpreted everything, and they’ve turned the areas they control into a hell of mismanagement by a bunch of leaders who are really nothing but bandits and warlords. No, our policy is to continue to officially recognize the Manziru Empire as the legitimate planetary government, even though dealing with them is a nightmare, given their unrealistic arrogance.”
    “Which is not unreasonable from their perspective,” said Chantal mildly. “That is precisely what they claim to be, even though there are large fringe areas they’ve never really controlled. In fact, Zirankh’shi political theory is based on the idea that there can be only one source of legitimate political authority—and, in fact, of civilization. There are parallels from human history, although none of them ever came anywhere near as close to making their pretensions as real on Earth as the Manziru have on Zirankhu.”
    Rojas shot her a look in which the previous frosty expression-lessness was only slightly thawed by the realization that Chantal had been doing her homework. “True. None of which makes it any easier for us. So our team was sent there to provide our diplomatic people with as accurate intelligence as possible. When we happened to detect bionics, we simply didn’t know what to make of it at first.”
    “There are certainly no bionics among the Zirankh’shi,” Jason nodded.
    “After the shock wore off, our people realized it could only mean Transhumanist involvement. So they traced every possible lead as far as they could until the leads dried up. And they were able to get an indication of what the Transhumanists were up to.” Rojas paused, then spoke in the tones of one dreading the reaction she expected. “They were buying large quantities of food.”
    “Food?” was Jason’s incredulous echo.
    “Well,” Chantal said thoughtfully, “the biochemistry of Zirankhu is sufficiently similar to Earth’s that humans and Zirankh’shi can consume each other’s food. Of course, neither can live on it exclusively; certain dietary supplements are required on both sides. But still, it can be consumed without harm. I’ve heard some items are quite tasty.”
    “But,” Mondrago demanded of her, “why would the Transhumanists go all the way out to the periphery of human-explored space—slightly over fifty light-years, isn’t it?—to buy food ?”
    “I can’t think of a reason in the world,” Chantal admitted. “In any world,” she added with a rueful smile.
    “Neither could we,” said Rojas grimly. “Nor could we think of any reason for their purchase of various basic raw materials that our investigation subsequently revealed before it hit a dead end.” She seemed to become belatedly aware that she had slipped and agreed with Chantal, and glared on general principles.
    “Well,” said Jason after a moment, “this is all very intriguing. But I gather that you don’t have any direct evidence of extrasolar time travel by the Transhumanists.”
    “No, we don’t. But we know they have been heavily involved in it. And since there doesn’t seem to be any conventional explanation . . .”
    “Precisely,” said Rutherford reasserting his authority. “It is for this reason that the decision has been reached, through consultation between the Authority and the IDRF, that when you go to Zirankhu to take charge of the investigation you will be accompanied by a Temporal Service team to advise you on time travel-related matters. Commander Thanou will head the team. Superintendent Mondrago will assist him; given the gravity of this situation we must send our ‘first team,’ as people say.”
    Rutherford had, Jason reflected sourly, not bothered to obtain his consent to the