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his amazing blue eyes move to Beny’s face and stay there.
    Triani’s bouquet was offered by a little boy. Passing the alien flowers to Cham, Triani scooped the child up in his arms. “Hi, sweetie. How about a kiss?”
    The child screamed.
    Hastily Triani set him down again. “Little bastard,” he muttered.
    “Not everybody finds you irresistible,” laughed Cham.
    They were all struck by the violent contrasts between the technically advanced landing facilities atop the huge, flat pyramid, and the crude, almost rustic apartments inside the building, lit by their peculiar combination of brightly burning torches and hidden-source lighting.
    “You get used to it,” said Beny to Eulio philosophically. “And we brought lots of Merculian candles.”
    Cham was delighted by everything. He had lost all trace of his fear. “It’s like those recreation pods at home where it’s made to look like you’re back in time,” he exclaimed happily. “And I love the dog they gave us! Do you think we can take him home?”
    “Never mind him, sweetie. Let’s try out the bed.”
    The newcomers were all briefed by Beny’s staff on what to expect at the formal dinner that night. Even though slightly unnerved by the charged primitive atmosphere of the dining hall, the dancers soon settled down, though they stayed in groups where they had been seated and didn’t stray far from each other. It was Triani who noticed the girl first. He watched with amusement, leaning against the stone wall, one arm around his knee. It was a long time since he had seen such subtle coquetry. She was inviting, her shiny brown eyes flitting to Cham, then away. Triani nudged him. When Cham looked around, she nodded, almost imperceptibly, then demurely dropped her eyes and picked up something on her wooden plate. As she leaned forward, her long hair fell like a curtain in front of her face.
    “You want a written invitation, sweetie?” Triani murmured. “Go on. She wants you.”
    Cham hesitated. He glanced at Beny, who sat nearby with Eulio beside him. “Maybe it’s not a good idea.”
    Triani made a disgusted noise and pushed him to his feet. “Don’t keep the girl waiting, baby. It’s not polite in any situation. Trust me.”
    Cham slipped a buzzer in his mouth and set off across the hall. As he went, a murmur seemed to follow him, rising up behind him like a small wave of sound. He glanced back at Triani, who waved him on.
    The girls welcomed him with giggles and smiles, their hands going often to their mouths, their dark eyes laughing sideways at the newcomer. As they talked, they glanced repeatedly across the room, but not at Triani, who was watching them with interest.
    Beny leaned across and whispered, “This doesn’t feel right. Call him back, Triani.”
    “Why? We’re supposed to ‘interact with the natives’. It says so in our orientation packages.”
    “I get the feeling now is not the time,” Beny murmured. “Look.”
    A tall young man was making his way across the hall. He was holding the knife he had been eating with and his eyes were fixed on Cham.
    Triani jumped to his feet. “What do you think—”
    Beny pulled him down as the First Minister rose and covered the distance between himself and the youth with long smooth strides. He laid a steel hand on the boy’s forearm.
    The girls were now quiet, their eyes downcast, sitting without moving on their finely woven colorful mats. Cham got to his feet and looked around, confused. Then he hurried back to Triani and sank to his knees beside their ever present watch dog.
    Triani refilled his glass. “Looks like you’ve got competition. So, what did she say?”
    “Her name’s Quana.”
    “And? Did she proposition you?”
    “Not exactly. She invited me to a picnic tomorrow.”
    “A picnic ? How quaint. Just the two of you?”
    “I think so. She said to meet her at the public stables at 11.” Triani threw back his head and laughed. “Good for her! She’s more enterprising than