"Yeah, well, another day, another dunny," Errol quipped as he stepped carefully into the cramped-looking cubicle which appeared on the other side of the workshop Gate.

        Jamieson had to be careful himself when his turn came a few moments later to step into the cubicle. He had to make sure he was clear of the Gate else it wouldn't close behind him. But there was very little room, and the instant he stepped in he felt the floor rise quickly, then fall even more sharply. He pulled his Pokzak in tighter around him.

        He wondered if he was on some sort of boat; it felt just like Uncle Bert's launch in a choppy sea. He could also hear a noise behind him like a couple of huge electric fans running flat out, he could also feel their vibration through his feet. The cubicle and its toilet was smaller than the one in Class had been, but if they were on a boat than it would be. The flimsiness of the cubicle's construction though, it looked like very thin varnished plywood, was a puzzle. On a boat? Perhaps boats were built differently here.

        He fumbled with the lock for a moment before he realized the door was in fact unlocked.

        Cautiously opening it, he stepped into a tiny room barely big enough to contain two more cubicles. It was decorated with a glossy wallpaper that reminded him of that in Estelle's house except that here the vines and flowers were more stylized with plenty of leafy flourishes. A small washbasin and tap was fixed to the long wall. Although these were both made of what looked like aluminum, they were so ornate they too looked like they came from an old house. He stepped across to use them before he remembered he didn't need to.

        The decor certainly fitted in with what they had seen in Class. Errol had though it was like the 20's and 30's of Earth, Johnstone considered it `straight out of Gotham City'. However, Urklak Elvos was scientifically and technically far more advanced than Earth had been, perhaps what it might have been in the 1990's. The fact that it had developed compact `fusion' powerplants - whatever that was - like Estelle herself used meant that its transport systems were based on airplanes, helicopters and airships rather than cars, trucks and trains, of which it had very few. As a side-effect of this, the world had no towns or villages either, only cities each consisting of a single ring of skyscrapers surrounding an airfield. The Class `town' was actually a single-floor composite of several floors from a `typical' skyscraper; these were in fact towns and cities in themselves.

        He hung back a moment longer as Estelle had asked to allow Errol a little time to establish himself. That was just as well. Opening the door from the washroom took him straight into a long thin boomerang-shaped lounge containing what looked like three hundred armchair-like seats packed with people of all kinds, from families with lots of children and all the bags, cots, prams and toys and things that went with them, to a few sober-looking business people in a quiet group near the middle. But what really caught his eye was the row of curved glass windows that formed one of the long walls of the lounge. These swept gracefully back into the ceiling to give a view of high-altitude clouds that somehow didn't seem so high up at all. Those windows also seemed to form the front of the lounge, he was sure the boat was moving in that direction. There was also what looked like a blunt-ended molded glass tunnel in their middle over what he supposed was the bow of the vessel. The boat certainly had an odd design if it moved through the water that way. Yet in spite of its size it rode more like a launch, he could still feel the chop coming up through his feet.

        In spite of the fact that quite a few people were using those amazing little radio phones they used on this world (at sea?), the decor here reminded him of an old 1930's-style cinema, even down to the curtain-like wall hangings in the rear gathered in their centers with large medallions featuring stylized visages of eagle-like birds.

        Jamieson then noticed with a start that one of the small groups of people standing at the windows was actually centered around Errol, who leaned back on the wide polished-metal restraining bar that ran along them as if he owned the whole boat. Estelle had suggested that he might be seen on this world as an especially handsome specimen of their version of humanity, and it looked like she was right. Even as Jamieson watched a small child tried to approach the group before his mother shushed him back.

        Although the Noingi looked Polynesian, in fact very much like Maori, their culture tended to favor those who were thin and wiry with fine features, rather than those with powerful physiques. Estelle said that that probably came from their immense respect for their predecessors, the Diaeduee, the highly advanced culture that had died 5000 years earlier in a morass of crime and horror. Only their hare-lips made them look different from Earth humans, which meant the visiting humans all had to undergo minor temporary surgery in Estelle's `sick bay' as well as have their skins darkened.

        And that had been an experience in itself. They had all Gated one by one to what looked like a simple bed set up out in the open somewhere in Estelle's forest, though Errol had suggested later that it was probably under her deck. When Jamieson's turn came, he still couldn't believe what was supposed to happen even when the surgeon appeared, striding through the trees. Portly and gray-haired, he didn't look too different from Dr Cameron in Dr Findlay's casebook, except that his accent was Kiwi. But when Jamieson woke up with his dark skin and that hare lip - though not with a cleft palate the surgeon quickly reassured him - he knew he had to believe it.

        Errol - or Fotru, Estelle had suggested they at least try to think of each other using their Noingi cover names rather than their original ones - then happened to see him, and immediately called him over using his own cover name of Ajoan. He held up the cards that the members of his group, all young people, four boys and two girls, had apparently just given him. On this world, if you liked the look of a person, you introduced yourself and you offered your card with name, address, and a few personal details on it. It didn't matter who you were or the other person was. But that was as far as friendliness went. The Noingi were otherwise `rigidly Victorian', as Carol put it when they learned more about their complex moral codes in Class. The Noingi had not wanted to repeat the horrors of the Diaeduee, which they believed were caused by allowing their moral standards to slip too far. One had to be very careful how one spoke, hence Jamieson and the others all had ear-bugs installed to help them translate what they heard, and prompt them to make the correct replies. As they got better at conversing in Htaio, the bugs would reduce their assistance until they could withdraw altogether.

        Before he could move an inch however, a young woman of larger than average build and rather plain, almost moon, face jumped up from a seat in front of him and blocked his passage. Her eyes though reminded him rather eerily of that girl he had met in the Pyramid back on Mifassassi.

        "Hullo, my name is Oression, and I come from Poriarea. I would like very much to accompany you for a little while, if I may."

        Jamieson knew from Class that this was a standard greeting, and that it could only be refused if one could convince the other that one had pressing business elsewhere. He knew that that wasn't exactly the case with him.

        "Yes, of course, I would be delighted. My name is Ajoan," he gave her the equally standard reply without needing the earbug's prompt.

        They then duly swapped cards.

        "Oression, meet my friend Fotru," he gestured towards Errol.

        It crossed his mind as he led the way that Oression might actually have been more interested in meeting Errol than himself, but was just too shy to have gone straight up to him.

        The small circle parted politely to let them through. He knew he would have to be very careful even with the earbug to get his side of the introductions right. He didn't doubt Errol would do his part well.

        "Everybody, this is my good friend Adjoan," Errol began. He then introduced each member of the group to Jamieson him individually. "Tahind, Niepien, Eiaimin, Openha," he introduced the four boys using just their single names, "Enhemna, Citatay," the two girls. "And this is?" he indicated Oression.

        "Oression," was all Jamieson needed to say, taking her hand and giving a quick shake of the head at each person in turn as she passed round her cards. That felt odd.

        Another young couple then joined the group, formally introduced themselves as Ornu and Hahet, and passed round their cards. Jamieson noticed a lot of heads turn in their direction, he wondered if others would eventually join them.

        He then looked out the window and nearly leapt a foot.

        They were were not on a boat at all. They were up in the air thousands of feet above solid land.

        He froze. He had never flown in an airplane in his life. Uncle Bert had occasionally thought of buying a light plane of some sort, but the `right buying opportunity' had somehow never presented itself, though Jamieson had lived in hope.

        And now here he was, in the air above a strange world in an aircraft about which he knew nothing. Not even any idea of what it looked like. And that was something he really wanted to know. It was certainly no DC3.

        Estelle had sprung a real surprise on them.

        - But wait a moment! He had flown, in Estelle's car with the others over the moon's surface, even landing on it. So what was so different?

        He couldn't put his finger on it.

        He also realized, as he stared at the rivers and farmlands below and the distant range of snow-capped mountains he could just see out the windows to the right, that people had seen his reaction and were watching him now. What was he going to say? In a world where everybody flew everywhere he could hardly claim he had never flown before. Nor could he say he had seen something which surprised him, there was absolutely nothing down there that would surprise anybody.

        This was one of those important little things he knew he could never learn in Class.

        "What's up, Ajoan?" Errol asked him less than helpfully. Jamieson wasn't sure, but he thought he heard a Noingian giggle from one of the girls.

        Even worse, he then realized he had forgotten all about Oression.

          "Sorry," was all he could think to say to her when he found that she was giving him a puzzled look. He knew he did not have Errol's gift for making up something on the spot.

        Perhaps it was desperation that made inspiration strike.

        "I don't know why, but I've always been mad about flying ever since I was a child," he hoped he was lying successfully in Htaio for all to hear. "In fact up here I can't help becoming a child all over again," he looked at her as confidentially as he could using `Noingi Body Lies' as Johnstone had called those funny `body language' lessons Estelle had made them do back in Class.

        To his relief Oression seemed charmed by this. He then smiled at her in the Noingian way, then got on with the serious business of looking out at that bone-chilling view. He indicated for her to join him, and she all but snuggled up to him.

        Jamieson was just about to turn to try and gauge the reaction of the others when a very severe-looking woman came up to them. She was wearing a Pelzak, the sharply-cut and pressed version of the toga-like Pokzak the Noingi universally wore. Its front folds were held in place just below the bosom by a smaller version of the medallions which adorned the rear wall.

        "Everybody, I must request you all to either resume your seats, or move to the observation lounge at the front of the aircraft. Your gathering here is affecting the stability of the aircraft and thus the safety of its passengers."

        Jamieson's earbug translated this for him just in case he hadn't understood.

        Errol pointed wordlessly in the direction of the `observation lounge'. For some reason the young people found this gesture particularly impressive.

        "Thank you, sir."

        The stewardess - if that's what she was, she didn't look too friendly - indicated that they all follow her.

        There were a couple of people standing in the lounge, but they began to move away when they saw Errol's group coming.

        Jamieson could hardly restrain himself from trying to get to the very front of the deck, but was beaten to it by one of the girls, Citatay he now recalled, who had an air about her of expecting the best of everything. At least that's the way he saw it anyway. She was quickly joined by what Jamieson now realized was her boyfriend, Openha.

        The first thing he did was to see if he could work out what kind of plane they were flying in, and it looked very much to him from what he could see that they were in some sort of flying wing. That filled him with alarm, he had read somewhere - Popular Mechanics - that the Americans had built an experimental one and that it had crashed through `stability problems'. He didn't know what to do. He tried to believe that nobody would be allowed to fly in them even on this world if they were unsafe, and besides, this one was still airborne wasn't it? Maybe it had a proper fuselage with tail fins out the back that he had no way of seeing.

        But he couldn't quite manage to convince himself.

        "All right, so where are we?" he turned to Oression and asked her as if it was a guessing game. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this sort of thing at all. And there was a lot he wanted to know apart from details about the plane?

        " - I don't know," she looked at him in gleeful surprise. "It's completely impossible to tell where you are from up here unless you've got a map or something, isn't it? Even these days a few private pilots get lost just a few miles from their home city. - Do you know where we are?"

        "How long ago since we took off, do you think?" he said before he realized he had just made a bad mistake.

        "Must be nearly half an hour now, I suppose..." she didn't seem to notice.

        "And how long before we land?"

        "Depends on the wind. Another half hour I guess."

        "In that case we must be about half the distance between where we left from and where we're going to. That's where we are."

        She laughed loudly enough to draw attention from the rest of the group. Errol looked at him in some surprise.

        Jamieson then realized that the group hadn't really been saying very much at all. What there was of it seemed to be mostly about plays, films, or books they had read. To Jamieson that had sounded just like city-folk talk. Estelle recommended the four humans find ways of avoiding such discussions if they could; they had no chance of keeping up with them. Although they intended to stay rather longer on Urklak Elvos than they had on Mifassassi, several days at least, there was simply no way they could learn more than a tiny portion of its way of life.

        Errol was obviously managing this by appearing aloof from it all, and that apparently just enhanced his standing in the group even further. They seemed to be just happy enough to be around him. Jamieson had noticed that Errol had had that effect on people back at that party - in what already seemed like ancient history, but here it was particularly noticeable. He had overheard somebody describing him then as a `sort of a guru', but hadn't really given it much thought at the time. He wasn't sure what the word meant anyway. For a moment he thought it might be the `Polynesian' nature of the Noingi that was causing them to respond to Errol's relaxed, easy style, which seemed to translate very well into their `body language'. But then he remembered Estelle's sharp warning that they were not Polynesian, they were Noingi, and their friendliness was only a small surface part of their character. Like everybody else they also had a darker side, some of it well beyond what Jamieson and his friends might find acceptable.

        Jamieson surreptitiously looked around, and so far as he could see there were only two elderly people on that aircraft. The chill that ran through him made him wonder if Carol's doubts about whether they should visit the planet at all after Estelle had gone on to explain certain aspects of this dark side, especially their Law, were right this time. Then the same discussion arose as before their visit to Mifassassi. Estelle reminded them that there were one or two practices on Earth that the Noingi might disapprove of; to which Johnstone suggested: `Like destroying our own planet'.

        Jamieson wondered now when - and where - the others would turn up; `we'll join you both a little while later' Estelle had said cryptically. He glanced back towards the toilets, but saw no sign of them.

        Meanwhile a middle-aged man whom he had noticed earlier using a radio phone had come up seeking to join their group and was motioning for his wife - or daughter, she seemed little older than the other girls - to join them.

        "Hullo, my name is Sithiui, and I come from Poriarea. This is my friend Oeficne, who comes from Isimku. We would both like very much to accompany you all for a little while, if we may." They then handed round their cards.

        Jamieson didn't envy Errol's task of introducing his now sizable group as he handed the couple his own card. He hoped Estelle had supplied Errol with enough of them, no doubt when she arrived she would arrange a resupply.

        Just then, right out of the blue, Citatay's boyfriend, Openha, made a quick, surreptitious chop to her side with the side of his hand. Jamieson hardly even noticed it..

        Only one of the others appeared to notice it too, but it was enough. The way he looked at Openha soon had everybody else staring at him in that same harsh way.

        Jamieson thought it might have been jealousy that had spurred the boy to do what he did. Citatay was particularly fine-featured and attractive, and she was clearly attracted to Errol. Jamieson realized now she had been trying particularly hard to get friendly with him.

        "Now, what did you do that for?" Errol spoke to Openha as if he were a small child. "And such a lovely girl, too"

        The sharpness of this rebuke left the others standing round in open-mouthed shock, even Citatay herself in spite of Errol's compliment. But then one of the young men, Tahind, suddenly began to laugh, then Niepien joined in. Citatay herself quickly followed, and suddenly the gales of almost human-sounding laughter resounded through that deck and out into that large cabin. Jamieson could hear Oression joining in beside him.

        Errol's way of putting an end to a rather awkward situation seemed to have worked though. Virtually everybody on the plane was now looking in Errol's direction with interest, and it was clear that he had now established himself as a real personality.

        Jamieson then noticed that three of the aircraft's crew, including the stewardess who had approached them earlier, had been quietly moving passengers away from the block of seats at the center of the aircraft behind where the business people were sitting. A woman and two of her older boys remained standing to get a better look at what was going on.

        Jamieson then looked at Openha. He wasn't sure if the lad was blushing or quite what, for his cheeks had begun to turn quite yellow. Estelle had not covered this emotional reaction in Class.

        "Openha could become seriously disturbed by this, he's obviously a very sensitive young fellow," Oression whispered in his ear. "It was stupid of Citatay to do what she did, you can't behave like that. Openha might even take his own life now. Or have it taken from him. I don't think Fotru really behaved much better in spite of the way I laughed. Not now, anyway."

        "Good heavens, do you really think so?" Jamieson said, surprised that such a minor incident could be blown up to such crazy proportions, even here. Although they had been warned in Class that the people of Urklak Elvos could be even more hypersensitive in certain matters than the Nrebu, this was ridiculous. If your girlfriend wanted to go with someone else, you had to take it like a man. In a way it was a good thing, because you found out what sort of girl she really was before it was too late.

        Perhaps Oression was just making too much of it.

        "Shall we talk to Openha, see it we can't calm him down somehow?" Oression then suggested.

        "Well, we could try that, if you like," Jamieson agreed. He wasn't too keen, but he couldn't see any harm in it.

        But as they turned to walk up to him, the stewardess approached the group again.

        "Everybody, I must request that you all to move to this special block of seats we have now reserved for you at the center of the aircraft. Your gathering here is affecting the stability of the aircraft and thus the safety of its passengers."

        Now that Jamieson knew he was probably on board a flying wing, he was again amongst the first to move, though this time he looked to see if Oression was accompanying him. He wondered why they hadn't all been moved here in the first place, but guessed the crew needed time to resettle the other passengers. They probably also never thought Errol's group would grow so big.

        Errol obligingly let the stewardess conduct him towards the center of the block of seats; he quickly motioned Jamieson and Oression to join him. As he moved to do so, he noticed Citatay move even more quickly to ensure she would be seated on his other side. Errol politely pretended not to notice. But Openha certainly did, he went for the seat directly behind Errol. Nobody liked the look of that, two larger youths then moved to sit either side of him.

        All this meant he and Oression could no longer try and lift Openha out of his dark mood.

        But Jamieson was beginning to find all these shenanigans a bit annoying anyway.

        When all were finally seated, huiin was served to the entire deck, with any hint of favoritism to Errol's group carefully avoided. It was just as well they had sampled the stuff back in Class, for it was a hot milky mixture with a taste that reminded him of the school milk he had had through his childhood after it had been in the sun all day. Even worse, it came in what looked like a milk-shake container made of china and just as big as one. He didn't expect to acquire a taste for the stuff very quickly at all.

        The drink and the seating of Errol's group quieted things down just as the stewards obviously intended. People soon realized they had to lean in all sorts of uncomfortable angles to chat, so they tended not to. That would have made it impossible for anybody to hold court. Nevertheless, quite a few of the people close by were looking at the group as if wanting to join, but not sure just yet.

        Jamieson noticed that while Citatay was trying to chat to Errol as often as she could, Openha continued to sit in stony brooding silence. One seemed a shining light, the other a pool of darkness...

        Damn, this melodramatic nonsense was catching.

        Anyway, he really wanted to talk to Oression, he was liking her more and more. She was more than just nice and placid, if plain, she had a depth to her, one that allowed her to be happy to be wherever she was. No pretensions, nothing like that at all.

        But he also knew that he and his friends were travelers, they could not form attachments because it could only cause grief when the time came to part. Surely bumping into the girl in that pyramid had made that clear.

        Estelle had suggested that if talking about themselves became unavoidable, they should use the occupations they had followed back on Earth as far as possible as part of their cover. Their personal cards, the only identity documents one needed anywhere on Urklak Elvos since it was all one world-wide state, were made up accordingly. However, although they were each given special instruction in how their `occupations' worked on Urklak Elvos, Jamieson knew he would have a hard job convincing anyone here he was a farmer (he couldn't pose as a land agent here, all land was sold by the Oenruun, the City sub-Governments). Also, since most farms were immense, they were highly mechanized and automated, and they used a lot of aircraft and helicopters. So while Jamieson was able to tell Oression that he was a farmer without actually lying, he hoped she didn't know too much about the life.

        He also took the opportunity just in case to `explain' that `running the farm gave him little time or inclination for books and plays and such things'.

        To his surprise she laughed. "So how did you and Errol get to know each other then? He seems to know about little else."

        "That's not actually true," he answered after nearly panicking, but as his Uncle Bert had said more than once, `the truth is always best, it's all in how you present it'. "He's just good at pretending to know about such things. - He's just an immensely nice guy - well, you know that, and moves in the best social circles. He always attracts a crowd. I'm very lucky to know him."

        "Why, thank you," Errol had apparently overheard him. Oression laughed gently with the others who had also heard.

        "Tell you what," Errol looked past him brightly at Oression. "I'm going to throw a great big party soon as we land, and you're invited. - You can come too, if you like," he said to Jamieson. " - Er, what was your name again?"

        Jamieson laughed, but was still relieved when the others around them did the same.

        "Thank you," Oression said in a small voice, gazing at Errol. In spite of her now more sober impression of him, she was still clearly overwhelmed.

        Instantly the tone of the conversations around them changed into a buzz of conspirational murmurings in which the word inchih - the Noingi word for party, his earbug told him - featured strongly. Jamieson wondered if the entire passenger complement and crew of the aircraft would turn up. He hoped one of Estelle's flies was watching all this, they would now need rather larger accommodations than whatever she had planned.

        He also wondered just how well `party' translated into `inchih'. And, considering the knife-edge sensitivities of the sort they had just witnessed, whether it was a good idea to hold one at all. But then Estelle had not warned them not to, and the invitations had just gone out. So there was no stopping it.

        Even from where they were seated, the landing looked spectacular. The plane came in at a sharp left bank, the ring of soaring skyscrapers swept up towards them through those huge windows at a crazy angle. Jamieson had to resist the instinct to duck beneath the seats. The machine only straightened out as it passed over the end of one of the two crossed runways, then came in for a rapidly slowed landing.

        NAC it certainly wasn't.

        As the plane taxied, Jamieson could see that the airport was very busy. He saw several other aircraft in the sky and on the ground, and they were all shaped just like huge black stingrays except they had pairs of tailfins and large rear-facing propellers instead of the long whiplash tail. He guessed the plane he was in was just like them. But it was hard to judge their sizes, he suspected some might have been quite small.

        The plane turned to roll off the runway at some speed, he was sure he could hear its tyres squeal. It then swept directly into a hanger, open at both ends, just by the center of the crossed runways. He could see a duplicate such building on the other side of the cross; another plane was rolling out of it onto the runway theirs had just left.

        As their own plane came to a stop, people unbuckled themselves and stood up ready to leave. Oression and Jamieson, a little awkwardly in his case, did the same. Two stewardesses opened the curtains either side of the toilets at the rear of the cabin to reveal two narrow downward-sloping passageways. One of the stewardesses then came up to Errol's group and asked that they remain behind until the other passengers had left; they could then be best assured of being able to leave the airport as a group if they so wished.

        Errol gave his slight shake of the head in assent.

        The passageways turned out to be much longer than Jamieson thought; they ended in ramps that led directly onto the floor of the hanger itself. Jamieson left the carpeted walkway so that he could turn and look at the plane and solve a few mysteries. It was indeed stingray-shaped just like the other planes, but appeared to be made of a sort of black plastic rather than aluminum. He was also surprised to see that it had two decks, the one underneath was used for carrying what like small standardized cargo containers. These were now being unloaded using electric forklifts that reached up directly into two rectangular hatches underneath the plane forward of the passenger ramps. The whole operation was obviously designed for quick turnarounds, already through the large windows on the opposite side of the hanger he could see another airliner just touching down on the runway they had just used. Out the hanger doors he could see a large helicopter lifting off and two smaller ones landing. They looked just like the ones back on Earth had.

        "Lovely old thing, isn't it?" Oression stood next to him. "I've always enjoyed flying in it."

        He nearly said he enjoyed flying in it too before he realized she would ask why they had never met before.

        "Certainly is," he answered instead. If this was old, he wondered what the latest planes were like.

        "Come on, you two," Errol said, grinning. "You'll have to put off buying it for a day or two. Time to meet our other friends."

        The other members of the group gawped at them, wondering if `Fotru' had been serious. Jamieson noticed their attitude towards them now subtly change from that of `just being there' to one of respect.

        He also realized he had completely forgotten about Johnstone and Carol and Estelle. He had been so busy trying to get to know Oression...

        Errol led the group through the automatic opening doors - something Jamieson tried not to turn and stare at - into the airport terminal. This looked more like a crowded bus or train station set in what looked like a big old Bank of New Zealand building, complete with frosted glass-paneled ceiling. The same random mix of people he had seen on the plane sat quietly together on long, well-padded leather-covered benches. There were two rows of what looked like ancient cigarette dispensers either side of the doors they had just come through, most had people standing in front of them - actually talking to the machines as if they were people. And the machines would answer back. Jamieson just stopped and stared. From what he could see, a person would ask if he could go to a certain place as soon as possible, and if it was the machine would say `yes' and book his seat. And that was all, no money, no identification.

        Then once again he realized that although these machines might have been amazing compared to what they had had back home, next to Estelle and her ship...

        "Someone you know?" Oression asked him.

        " - No - just thought it was," he replied awkwardly.

        Just then he though he caught sight of Estelle at the far end of the terminal, but his view of her was then suddenly blocked by a young family who had just come in through the doors.

        " - Do you have people meeting you?" Jamieson asked her. "I think some of Fotru's and my friends have just arrived. You can come with us if you like."

        "Well, no," she looked at him a little puzzled. "I'm just coming home from work. As I said earlier, I'm helping out in a school back in Porearea while one of the staff's away sick. They're short of lab technicians. No, I have to go straight home first. Thanks for the offer though. - I have Fotru's card, so I'll see you at the party," she said reassuringly as she turned ready to leave. " - He didn't say what time, did he?"

        In his sudden realization that Oression was going, Jamieson found he had completely forgotten how they measured time here.

        "Just turn up when it gets dark, I guess - that's when Fotru really comes alive," he grinned. " - And thank you for spending your time with me," he remembered the formal parting.

        "Thank you for allowing me to," she laughed as she finally parted from him.

        He found it hard to resist the temptation to stare after her. She might have been plain, but like many plain women he had met, he found her far more attractive than most of the pretty ones.

        Just then he heard a roar of fans from behind him; he guessed it was the plane departing for its next destination.

        "Well," said Errol as he finally said good-bye to the last of his own new friends, "My earbug suggested I send them on their separate ways 'til tonight's party. Don't know why. Guess we just wait and find out."

        "Estelle's here - least I think she is," Jamieson looked round, but didn't see her. He then felt a finger in the small of his back and saw a grin spread across Errol's face.

        He spun round to find Estelle laughing gently at him.

        "Glad you've found a new friend, to say nothing of Errol." "Where're the others?" He asked to cover his embarrassment. " - And Sequeyhorn?"

        "Carol and Johnstone are nearly here," she replied, pointing in the direction of another plane just now rolling into the hanger. "Sequeyhorn's getting your apartment ready. - Like to take a seat?" she looked round for one. " - There," she indicated a place on the other side of a bench where two businessmen were getting up.

        The city of Esthmer looked very different from the ground from anything he had seen pictures of or heard of back on Earth. There were no car and pedestrian-thronged streets here. The ring of skyscrapers was separated from the airport area by botanical gardens-like parkland, and what `pedestrians' there were just wandered as they pleased over the hills and down the dales and through the gardens and trees and over the bridges across the streams.

        But it wasn't perfectly idyllic. That cloudy sky was full of roaring planes swooping by at all angles and in all directions. And everywhere in the distance was that constant backdrop of tall thin skyscrapers, their deeply ribbed vertical lines so strong you couldn't see their windows. But at least they didn't look entirely identical to each other, and each had quite distinctive little penthouses on top. Estelle said these were in fact the residences of each building's owner. Jamieson saw a small helicopter taking off from one of them.

        They took the opportunity to compare notes between themselves while they wandered across that beautiful parkland (Estelle said that was the whole point of leaving their new friends at the airport). In order to try and understand what they had seen, they inevitably once more went over the weird history of this world, so different from Earth's, that they had learned in Class...

        The Diaeduee had been destroyed through the release of a nerve toxin-releasing bacteria 5000 years ago by one of their vast numbers of religious cults. They had wanted to ensure that `the spirit of man would not be wholly swallowed up by its fleshly container'. The Noingi, on their group of tropical islands near the equator, was the only population to survive virtually intact. And that was only because a group of them protesting against the sale of island property to overseas investors had blocked the runway to prevent its use. And that, by sheer good luck, also prevented the disease-carrying aircraft from landing.

        Under the influence of a few Diaeduee living there who had also survived, the Noingi had retained just enough of their ancient ability to navigate their boats over long oceanic distances. When they reached their first continent just five hundred years ago - and despatched the few survivors there, they found the remains of cities and highways and all the things that went with them that were at least as advanced as twentieth century Earth's. Five thousand years had of course reduced most to overgrown rubble, but since there were so many cities it was possible to piece together what a complete one must have been like. This was enough to inspire the Noingi profoundly. They became seized with a passion to `know the secrets of the ancients', so that they too might come to have the same `magic' powers.

        The Noingi actually achieved more, far more. They were forced to bypass the oil era since the Diaeduee had left very little on the planet. They went almost directly from animal power to steam power (`as the Romans nearly did', Carol had said), then electricity, then through research into Diaeduee science itself, fusion power. Now they were on the verge of discovering the same space-warping drive systems Estelle's ship used, and it would probably not be too long before they discovered the interstellar wormholes, then perhaps the Gates. It might therefore only be a matter of a few decades before they visited Earth, whatever condition it might be in by then, since it was only twelve hundred light years away and had a similar sun to their own.

        While they were acquiring that knowledge, the Noingi also learned much about the Diaeduee themselves that they found profoundly disturbing. Once they had gone sufficiently far as to find out what had caused the end of the Diaedueen civilization, they became so determined to prevent that happening to their own they made some extremely harsh laws. In short, if anyone displayed anything that looked like deviant or criminal behavior, faced a real risk of euthanasia, no matter whether they were `mad, sad, or bad,' as Johnstone put it while Estelle was telling them all this. And `euthanasia' was only a loose translation for what actually happened; a condemned person was placed in a tiny steel cabinet, anaesthetised by gas, electrocuted, then cremated in it in a single operation.

        And a conviction could depend solely on the testimony of three or more people, though they in their turn each had to be adjudged by three people as being sober, responsible people. This not only meant that even minor criminals or the emotionally disturbed tended to have short lives. Assessors could review judgments and call for additional witnesses in complex or unusual situations, but such judgments were seldom overturned. It may not have been very nice justice or entirely reliable, but then it may not have been less so than many on Earth. It also kept poverty down to a manageable level, since most crimes were committed by the poor on the poor.

        Everybody therefore behaved very carefully indeed and obeyed all the social conventions without thought. To help their citizens do this as they expanded into what for them were fresh new territories, all Noingi cities were designed the same way from the very start, not built and added to in a rag-tag way that Earth's had been.

        Learning these things had left Jamieson and his friends with mixed feelings about visiting Urklak Elvos at all. But considering the reasons why its people had become what they had become, they decided they had to at least give it a fair trial.

        "We'll stay on the straight and narrow as long as we can," Errol had said. "Hope you can keep an eye out for us Estelle. And if the worst comes to the worst, I'm sure you'll ensure we're not too late for our execution."

        There was one way out of the social straight-jacket however, and both Errol and Johnstone had accidentally found it. As on Earth, you could get away with a lot if you displayed a lot of character and personality, or `charisma' as Johnstone put it, whatever that was. If you went too far though and attracted the attention of a Sub- or even the World Government, you could be faced with a sedition charge that carried an obligatory death penalty. The Noingi remembered that religious cult as well as the crime that had killed off the Diaeduee. ("What about those whacko protesters who saved the planet?" Johnstone had then asked.)

        Jamieson hadn't been too surprised to find that Johnstone had done as well as Errol in establishing his persona and winning an even bigger circle of friends than Errol had. He couldn't understand why though, after the event, it hadn't occurred to him that Johnstone and Carol might have been Gated to a different plane. Theirs had been an intercontinental airliner however, and far more modern, for instead of using fusion power to drive electric engines which turned its propellers, theirs was powered by fusion-powered jet engines.

        This time Johnstone had no problem with his singing. He was able to present it as the fruits of his research into how a small culture in The Diaeduee Era had sung, he even claimed to have found recordings. No matter that the words were in fact German, Italian or French, his voice (from Carol's account which also expressed her several reservations) had rung through the entire aircraft. A whole bunch of his friends were coming to the party he had decided to put on that night.

        "It's not all that far to walk to where we'll be staying," Estelle said, "and this is a perfectly beautiful place to walk in. But you may like to sample the public transport system, which I couldn't show you in Class. It's probably as fancy as anything you'll ever see. See those sunken gardens just up ahead? That's where we go in."

        The `sunken gardens' in fact made Jamieson and the others once more think of the Fernery in Auckland's Domain. Here too graveled walkways weaved in and around stands of fern of all kinds, none of which Jamieson could distinguish from any he remembered from home. The only difference was that the gardens were much shallower, and they were bounded on one side by a cliff face with a pair of what looked like lift shafts with glazed iron lacework doors set into them. As Jamieson and the others approached, a family of four entered the one on the left, the doors swinging out as they parted just like those on trolley buses. When the doors closed, he could see what appeared to be the domed glass top of the lift sink into the shaft.

        Then the oddest thing happened. The lift from the other shaft appeared to slide sideways into the place just vacated by the first.

        "Eh?" said Errol. "How does that work?"

        "You'll see," Estelle said brightly as its doors opened for them. "The system is called the Hjintaez, and the lifts themselves melonhis. Plenty of room, they seat six, with three standing. The large families here, you know."

        Jamieson entered after Errol, then Johnstone and Carol followed. It looked like no lift Jamieson had ever seen. It resembled a dome from a 7-day clock except that it was about ten feet high and the same in diameter. Inside was a ring of seats.

        Once Estelle entered, she said in a firm voice: "Please, we wish to go to Siorohneel 644."

        As the outer doors closed, the inner ones did the same. Contained within a simple inverted U-shaped brass frame, these seemed to be no more than narrow panels of glass or plastic.

        Their descent then began. But to their surprise there was no light in the lift itself, the shaft's walls began to glow with light as they fell instead. Jamieson looked round for tracks or something, but saw only three equidistantly-spaced grooves running down it. After only a short while the bubble began to slow again, and before they knew it they were being lowered by means they couldn't see into a much larger tunnel with an oval cross-section - and with walls that appeared to be made up of stained glass windows. These made him think of the houses back on Mifassassi, except these were more heavily leaded and the designs were abstract, mostly of interlocking geometric shapes in all sizes and colors so far as he could see.

        The tunnel had two pair of widely separated tracks running through it, these too consisted of grooves except they were larger. Jamieson could see bubbles gliding smoothly and rapidly by in each direction. A short section of track between the main ones and joined to it by lazy S-curves was directly below them; he guessed they would be placed on it ready to move to their destination.

        But to his and his friends' surprise, they found themselves passing right through it and down into another tunnel running at right angles to the first. Just after their entry, they saw another bubble rise toward them, obviously it was on its way up towards the other well. As they passed it, Jamieson could see that it was supported on the center of its base on what looked like a hydraulic ram that came up from the floor of the lower tunnel. He noted that this base was about a foot deep and appeared to have three serrated shallow vertical flanges, he assumed these fitted the grooves in the shaft. He could also see that this base was rotating even though the bubble itself wasn't, he guessed this was necessary to line its flanges up with the tunnel grooves.

        Their own bubble was gently lowered into another S-Curve between these new tracks, they then moved of with no small acceleration along the left hand track. Since the bubble had not rotated at any stage in its descent, it obviously didn't matter which way they faced. He felt lucky he was facing forward - well, mostly anyway.

        "Fascinating..." Johnstone said in his best Mr Spock voice.

        "How are these things controlled?" Carol asked Estelle. "Computers or something?"

        "Maybe it's just a bunch of guys behind all those windows frantically pulling levers and things," Johnstone laughed.

        "Carol is actually correct this time," Estelle smiled at him. "it's almost as complicated as the one that controls the airline system and flies the planes."

        It took a few moments for that one to sink in.

        "Jesus..." Johnstone visibly started to break out into a sweat.

        "No, not very likely," Errol laughed with what Jamieson thought tasteless humor.

        "There are two rings of tunnels," Estelle said in her `get their minds onto other things' tone of voice. "One runs beneath the circle of skyscrapers, the other, half its diameter, runs under the park; we passed through that one coming down. Both are connected to eight `spoke' tunnels just below them, which join in a terminus underneath the center of the airport. In a way it's too bad we didn't see that, it looks like a cross between a planetarium and Aladdin's Cave. But I guess there'll be another time."

        It didn't take too long to reach the end of the `spoke' tunnel, but they had to wait a few seconds before they were lifted up into the even busier outer ring tunnel under the skyscrapers. Once again they were moved onto the left hand track, and picked up speed as quickly as before.

        They passed through three other S-junctions before they entered one themselves. They barely seemed to stop before they could feel themselves being lifted up towards one of the pair of short-looking wells they could see above them. Once they entered it, Jamieson realized with a certain trepidation that it was only those tiny fins round the base of the bubbles that lifted them up and down the wells.

        Suddenly they could see out through the clear walls of the shaft into what looked like an immense shopping center. The only thing to break their view were the pair of double doors set into the shaft at least as ornate as those in the `fernery', and the six-inch wide cream-colored columns containing the shaft's grooves and the lifting mechanism for their bubble, whatever that was.

        "Heavens..!" Carol shouted as they glided past the doors. "Do these - things - also act as lifts?"

        "Yes indeed," Estelle smiled at her. "It's a very complete transport system, no four-wheeled vehicles in cities at all. Those are only used on farms, though there are golf cart-like things to get round the larger factories and warehouses underground."

        As they rose toward the ceiling, Jamieson could see all around them rows of tables and shelves piled high with all kinds of things just like in Woolworth's or McKenzies. Not far away was a pair of escalators. He looked down to see that the bubble that had just passed them in the other shaft had stopped at that floor. He then saw another bubble go down past them in the same shaft, but before he could see what happened, their own was swept up into the next floor. This appeared to be an extension of the first, except that it was clearly a grocery supermarket. So did the next, it contained items of Manchester, bedding and the like. Jamieson realized they were in fact traveling through something like a huge Farmers store like the one in Auckland he had been to when he was a kid. For a moment he wondered if this building had a playcenter and restaurant on the roof too, then he remembered the penthouses.

        "Lingerie, millinery, children's clothing, ladies and gents evening wear," Johnstone called as they moved up through the ceiling - and into what was a restaurant, though one that looked more like that 1920's-style Skyroom at the top of Milne & Choyce that Auntie Clarissa had taken him to for his birthday only last year. Here though the round tables had settings for eight rather than four or six. He also suspected that this floor had no windows, for he could see the trees and shrubs planted near the walls and the ivy-like plants climbing all over the building's internal columns moving gently in the breeze.

        The next floor caused Johnstone to bark a quick laugh once he recognized it was a hospital. It wasn't easy to see as such at first, for the lobby was filled with people sitting round the walls on chairs while lots of other busy-looking people in bright orange-yellow Pokzaks moved quickly to and fro through it. It was only when an empty bed surrounded by a lot of highly technical looking instruments was pushed across the lobby by half a dozen anxious looking people that they all realized what it was.

        The next six floors were all different, and of unidentifiable purpose until Estelle explained they were the lobbies of residential floors for professional people and the very wealthy. But they certainly didn't look too much like lobbies to Jamieson, these were sizable interesting-looking rooms, some of which must have taken up half the floor area of each storey. They featured huge paintings and wall hangings, sculptures and figurines on small tables or alcoves, the usual insignia, lounge or easy chairs in a range of styles, colors and fabrics, and rich Persian-like carpets. One floor even had a small fountain with quite a few people swimming in it.

        The next several floors appeared to alternate between offices and light engineering or manufacturing, Jamieson noticed that most of the people on both kinds of floor spent most of their time watching brightly glowing screens. He couldn't figure this out, were they actually trying to work while they were watching television?

        "Are those computers?" Carol asked Estelle.

        "Yes they are," she replied. "No such things as typewriters or dials and the like on this world. Anything that can be done using a computer is done that way. - Now from here on we are about to pass through a part of the building housing the middle classes here, and above them, the poor. You may see some interesting sights if you don't blink."

        The first few floors looked quite promising, and had more people wandering round doing all sorts of things than Jamieson had seen so far. One floor was a dance floor, a ring of dancers had actually formed itself round the lift shafts and were turning and gyrating in time to music. This sounded rather like bagpipes from what Jamieson could hear of it through the shaft and bubble walls. The floor above consisted of a geometrically laid out garden containing what appeared to be variations on an azalea-like flower, perhaps it was the Noingi equivalent of a rose garden. Another floor was fitted out with what looked like complicated gym-like equipment and a fenced-off padded area what could have been anything from a boxing ring to just a place for free exercise.

        "Are the residents free to wander from floor to floor to use these different areas?" Carol asked, "`or do they have to live on a particular floor to use them?"

        "Entirely free," Estelle replied, "provided they have sufficient funds or social standing to mix with the people on the higher-status floors. These lobbies are really no different from your community halls, social clubs, what have you. The lift-shafts are therefore rather like vertical streets, though there are escalators and stair-wells as well. People live round the perimeters of each building, paying for their upkeep through rents, rates and taxes. No vandalism you'll notice, there are stiff penalties for that."

        "Not that stiff, I hope," Johnstone said mock-grimly.

        "No, they just join the maintenance staff for a month or two," she laughed.

        Jamieson had noticed the lobbies were now growing both shabbier and tackier, they were now just passing through one that looked like the inside of a pub. This was obviously the poorer part of `town'.

        "Do they have an equivalent of King's Cross here?" Johnstone asked. "Can we stop off there for a little while?"

        Almost as he spoke, they passed through a plushly-carpeted floor with walls ringed with drapes, paintings of nudes in all manner of poses, and filled with both women and men who appeared to walk suggestively.

        "Here we are," Errol laughed. "Can we stop off for a while, Estelle? Or wouldn't it do us any good?"

        Jamieson couldn't help but laugh with the other two men at Carol's exasperated sigh and the expression on her face.

        "I'm sure they'd make pretty short work of you three male Chauvinist pigs," she said.

        As they laughed again, Jamieson noticed even Estelle smile.

        The next two floor lobbies consisted of individual shops rather than a department store, and they looked `more fleamarket than upmarket' as Errol put it. Above them the floors became increasingly tattier residential ones, with the upper ones having nothing more than bare floor and what looked like old armchairs and sofas scattered about. Johnstone and Errol couldn't decide whether they might have been cast out by the residents as junk or as a feeble attempt to do their bit for the community. Perhaps both were right.

        "If it continues like this, what's our floor going to be like?" Johnstone laughed.

        "And what happens to these bubbles when they reach the top of the shaft?" Errol wanted to know. "They just move over to the down shaft like they did in the park?"

        "That's right," Estelle answered Errol's question, "And that means each shaft can contain any number of bubbles. Each building therefore usually only needs two shafts. The system is relatively simple and cheap, yet is very nearly point-to-point anywhere in the city.- And the answer to your question, Johnstone, will appear very shortly."

        Suddenly they found themselves on a higher-than normal floor that was entirely given to carnival side-shows and rides that, with their garish colors, loud dervish-like music, and thronging crowds, didn't look too different from the Easter Show or something back on Earth. As the bubble passed up into the ceiling however, Jamieson realized he had not seen any animals. Perhaps there weren't any left on Urklak Elvos.

        The next floor looked as if it might have been lifted bodily out of the parkland the buildings ringed. Subtropical trees of various quite familiar-looking kinds; grass, pathways, benches. Children played, young couples wheeled light-looking prams. Just one elderly couple strolled along a path. Again Jamieson suspected the distant windows had no glass in them.

        "It's hard to see why they'd come here rather than go straight down to the central park," Errol said. "Wouldn't take that much longer, surely."

        "Can't answer that," Estelle said. "I think it serves more as a break between the lower floors and the upper ones in which our apartment is located."

        The first of these upper floors appeared, and they looked just as plush as those just above the hospital. The lobby made Jamieson think of a passenger lounge in the Queen Mary which he had seen pictures of with its ornate silver-edged mirrors, plush drapes, huge settees all around the walls, occasional tables.

        " - Heavens," Johnstone exclaimed. "How do we pay for all this? - Hope you don't mind me asking, Estelle."

        Just as Estelle was about to reply, the bubble reached the next floor and slowed to a stop. The doors then opened onto a lobby as opulent as the one below, but in a quite different style and color, more a blue and gold in theme than pink and mauve. Nobody seemed willing to step out first.

        Estelle laughed. "Come on, everybody," she switched to Htaio in deference to the elderly couple sitting on a couch just to the left of them. The two parties greeted each other with the quick shake of the heads that still felt so strange. "I manufacture gold or whatever metal is most precious to a culture," she then answered Johnstone's question in English, "and my local Helper then sells it. The money earned from it is real, and no damage is done to an economy since it is no different from that same metal being mined or just found somewhere."

        "Gee whiz," said Johnstone. "People back home spent centuries trying to do something like that."

        "Some actually succeeded, using particle accelerators," Carol smiled at him. "Only a few atoms or so though."

        Sequeyhorn then appeared from round a corner and lifted his left arm, hand outstretched, in front of him.

        The sensation of being in a stateroom aboard a flash ocean liner was only strengthened by the fact that the entire building moved just enough in the breeze to be noticeable. The dinner that awaited them on their arrival was as immense as his hunger when Jamieson saw it, even if it looked quite different from a regular Kiwi Roast Dinner. Errol had said that it reminded him very much of a communal feast like those he had experienced in China. There were no whole pig or chicken-like items to be carved. Everything was in bite-sized pieces on large white alabaster-like platters stacked three or four high on central shafts of bronze exquisitely molded into the shape of plants resembling Red Hot Pokers. The eating utensils were `high tech', as Errol described them in that they were like single chopsticks with a button on one end and three fine long retractable claws on the other. Pressing the button caused the claws to extend and grasp the food, releasing it dropped the food into one's mouth - or elsewhere when you didn't quite get the coordination right.

        "Wonder if we could start a culinary revolution here by `inventing' good old fashioned knives, forks, and spoons," Johnstone had remarked. "How do they manage soup? Must be very thick indeed."

        Exploring the apartment revealed that it took up one entire L-shaped corner of the building, a feature it shared with the other three apartments on the floor. Each even had its own services shaft in the space between shared walls; Sequeyhorn told them that there were two tunnel networks under the city other than the one they had just traveled on, one for small items such as `catered' dinners like the one they had just eaten, and another for moving very large and heavy items, though that one only ran between the basements of buildings and their underground floors where all heavier manufacturing and engineering plant for the city was located.

        Their apartment had six bedrooms including what Jamieson assumed was a large master bedroom, a `study' centered around what Sequeyhorn described as a `data network' that allowed you to do virtually anything from ringing up friends (and seeing them on screen) to acting as a sort of library that could get you any piece of information you wanted from anywhere in the world. The `mood room', as Errol called it, on the corner of the `L', was even weirder. Apart from its flat floor made up of soft matting, it was the inside of a white sphere about twenty feet across. But you could `ask' it to play soothing music, alter the lighting to whatever shade and intensity you wanted, or show whatever images you wanted. These completely covered that entire spherical surface so that, with their sound effects, you felt you were there. Errol promptly lay down in a beautifully restful underwater coral reef scene filled with tropical fish, and went to sleep. Estelle recommended we chose whichever bedroom we wanted and try to do the same for a while. It had been a long day, and if we were going to have a party that night, we might well need all the strength we could get.

        Before Jamieson dozed off on the large circular bed whose mattress had a raised edge instead of pillows, he wondered if he hadn't heard a little concern in her voice...

        Since Jamieson still couldn't remember how they measured time here, the peculiar symbol-covered square watch he had been issued with was useless. So he guessed that their first guest arrived about half an hour or so after the last glimmer of light disappeared from the now overcast - and still noisy - sky. Sequeyhorn had explained that the word `party' didn't really translate very well here. There differences were more than a matter of social custom, they had at least as much to do with the slightly different sets of emotions the Noingi were capable of and which us humans had no real hope of understanding. Errol asked if that might have had something to do with the charismatic effect he and Johnstone had had on them; Sequeyhorn agreed that there might well be a link. In any case, neither he nor Estelle could guarantee that the party would be a `success' if they continued to think in terms of `great fun to be had by all'.

        "`Inchih' is really closer in meaning to your `soiree', a kind free and light-hearted interaction between people with each other rather than the music," Sequeyhorn then continued. "You will notice that the music in fact sounds like a conversation - well, yours does too if you think about it. But here conversation is exactly what it's supposed to encourage. If it succeeds - and it has to be live, recorded music is completely unacceptable - people will then eventually dance, but as you will see, they will only start off in pairs. Those pairs then form into groups, then these link up into increasingly bigger groups until finally... Only if it reaches that stage will your Inchih be considered a success."

        Jamieson found this reassuring. His visions of disaster receeded.

        "You're kidding..!" Errol responded so loudly in English Sequeyhorn did the Noingian equivalent of a wince.

.         But Jamieson's worries soon returned. As it turned out to everybody's consternation, the `sextet' Sequeyhorn had arranged for them happened to include Openha. And he, since he was also an invited guest, brought along a female companion who even Sequeyhorn described as `somewhat strange'. As Errol put it, `back on Earth one would have said `prostitute', but since we don't know the local ropes we mustn't be too premature in our judgment, must we? Might just be his big sister'.

        Once the band got under way though, Openha just became a part of it, and that was mostly because their music did indeed sound deadly dull, like those silly-sounding Haydn records Auntie Clarissa used to play. It was clear this `party' was going to be a lot slower than the Saturday Night Bash at the local Church Hall.

        Just then Oression walked in - accompanied by a male friend. Jamieson's heart fell. She didn't see him at first until her friend met someone he obviously knew, giving her a chance to look round. She immediately made her way through the growing crowd towards him.

        "I am so very pleased to see you again, Oression," Jamieson stood up to greet her in that formal way the situation required.

        "I am just as much pleased to see you," she smiled. "Lovely party," she smiled round. Jamieson wasn't sure whether to be disappointed by the fact that no-one he shared the sofa with seemed to respond to her at all. "I'll introduce you to my brother Metto as soon as he is free," she looked at him expectantly.

        It took Jamieson a few moments to realize he had forgotten the part of the formal greeting that invited her to sit with him. He wondered if it these ornate formal greetings actually threw people of the opposite sex together more than their parties did.

        He looked round for a vacant sofa or something, but could see none with a space big enough for the two of them. Even though Sequeyhorn had hired several extra sofas and chairs for all the rooms (even the `mood room', Jamieson wondered what images were on its walls), Jamieson suspected they were all now occupied. The party had quickly become that crowded.

        "We can go out into the lobby if you like," Oression suggested. "There's already quite a few people out there."

        Just then a young couple decided to get up from Jamieson's sofa to dance. Oression quickly grabbed their place and, to his intense pleasure, settled herself as close to him as he suspected she could decently manage.

        And that seemed more than the couple whose place she had taken seemed to be doing with their dancing. It looked to him like something he had seen in a film about Communist Poland. They faced each other a foot or so apart, then, hands on hips, they bobbed up and down in synchrony with the music as they performed kicking movements with their legs. It wasn't that bad, their Pokzaks seemed all but designed to flow rhythmically round their bodies in time with it. But it looked no more rousing than the music was.

        "Heaven's above," Jamieson heard Johnstone whisper in his ear, he hadn't seen him come up from behind. "I would have thought these guys would explode when somebody threw a party, being so repressed. Over-civilised, that's what they are. Well, I know just how to fix that."

        Jamieson could almost feel Johnstone's grin burning into him.

        " - Careful..!" Jamieson whispered at him in Htaio before he moved away. "Is he one of your friends?" Oression asked him with what Jamieson suspected was a reproachful tone in her voice.

        "Sorry, yes, I should have introduced you. His name's - Naihe Hoa. He's a journalist. I'll introduce you properly next time we see him."

        He peered through the crowd to look to see where Johnstone had gone, and much to his surprise saw him bending over to talk to Openha, hands gesturing. He heard a few odd sounds coming from the young fellow's instrument, which looked something like a zither with a mouthpiece attached. Apparently one plucked at the same time as one blew, sometimes the notes matched, sometimes they didn't. One of the other instruments played by that four-man band also looked dual purpose in that way.

        There was something oddly familiar with that rhythm Openha was trying out however... Then it hit him as his earbug helped him translate Johnstone's words from Htaio into English:

        It's been a hard day's night

        And I've been working like a dog...

        The thought of what might be about to happen as the other members of the group picked up the beat, even if it resembled the original about as much as a Burmese version would have, sent shivers up Jamieson's spine.

        To his surprise, Errol then flung an arm around Johnstone's shoulder and joined Johnstone in singing that dreadful song from the Beatles - or was it the Rolling Stones? Jamieson couldn't remember, nor did he want to.

        All movement and conversation in that room stopped. Apart from the pulsing racket the band was now making and that raucous singing from his two friends, the room was deadly silent. It was almost as if the pair were drunk, but Jamieson couldn't see how. Alcohol was poisonous here, the Noingi drank methylated spirits, which was poisonous to us. Estelle said she was unable to provide an antidote.

        "What is that music," Oression looked at Jamieson, totally confused.

        Suddenly Carol found her way through the crowd and came up behind the two men to whisper urgently into their ears. She was clearly worried.

        Johnstone then reached round and slapped her playfully on her behind.

        The expression on Carol's face, and those on the two men's, were apparently enough to spark a roar of laughter from the crowd. One or two couples then tried to dance to the music in their quaint-looking way.

        Whereupon Johnstone let Errol go and grasped Openha's girlfriend, Citatay, who happened to be nearby, gazing at Errol. He showed her a few jive dance steps and she proved to be a quick and willing understudy. Another couple nearby studied them for a few moments, and tried the steps for themselves.

        Meanwhile Openha was clearly pumping up his band into a frenzy which was now actually sounding quite good, and more dancers made the change to the new steps.

        In fact Jamieson was now beginning to feel in more of a dance mood himself, in spite of the lyrics which Errol was now singing on his own. He turned to Oression and gestured to the floor.

        "Oh no, I couldn't," she pleaded. "That would be - beyond me."

        Jamieson got up. "Come on, just follow my lead. I'm not too good at this myself, so don't worry."

        But she stayed where she was and just looked up at him.

        "I'm frightened," she said at last in a small voice as she looked round the room at the rapidly growing number of couples joining in and now jiving with no small expertise. They had cast off their shackles at last, and they knew it.

        He sat down again and reached out his hand to hers. "Why?" he asked her.

        "It's that music I think," she said. "Openha, after today, you know. I don't know why, but I think he's found his revenge. Look at him."

        The band had just swung into another Beatles/Rolling Stones number, and Openha's face had now acquired a new expression that reminded Jamieson sharply of that nastiness he had himself seen on Mick Jagger's face. He began to wonder if she didn't have a point.

        Carol then came up to them after tearing herself away from some newly crazed young Noingi who wanted her to dance with him.

        "I don't like the look of this," she said to Jamieson. "I know it looks a bit tame after what we've seen, but the Noingi are a hell of lot more repressed than we ever were. I shudder to think. What are the authorities going to do? What are we going to do?"

        Jamieson was surprised. She might be something of a neurotic worrier, but she had never exactly been one to fear social revolution.

        "First, you'd better meet Oression, Oression, this is Aoataxe - she feels the same way as you do," he added hurriedly when he saw they made no attempt to swap cards, neither was obviously too impressed by the other. "But I think we're on our own here," he looked round the room for any sign that others might share their feelings, but there was nobody he could see. "I'm afraid this looks unstoppable."

        As if to emphasize the point, more people suddenly flooded in through the door, saw what was going on, and wildly joined in. The music became even more frantic. Jamieson could feel the floor begin to vibrate through the couch as more and more people began to find variations on the jive dance themes that looked plain physically impossible. Whatever had been repressed in the Noingi for so long was certainly coming out with a vengeance.

        "Perhaps we'd better just quietly leave," he looked at the two girls. "I really don't see what else we can do."

        "Yes, I think - " Oression began to get up before they heard an explosion outside the window. They turned to see a huge beautiful rose-colored shellburst of a firework reach out into the clouds of that dark sky. Suddenly two more in green and blue followed in quick succession.

        "Looks like the news is spreading," Oression looked at Jamieson, clearly now even more deeply impressed with him. "I've heard of this happening with parties put on by the wealthy, but never seen one let alone attended one before."

        She shivered in a way that made Jamieson wonder if it was with anticipation or dread.

        "I think this one could well go down in history," Carol said ominously. The shriek of more fireworks could then be heard, a magnificent Catherine wheel that looked just like a galaxy then soared and hung suspended in the sky just below the clouds.

        Then what looked like a squad of police burst into the room. The music fizzled to a stop and there were shrieks from the crowd as another squad burst in. The first squad then moved in to surround the band and made it clear that they were under arrest and had to accompany them from the building.

        Four very senior looking officers then came in - at least Jamieson assumed they were from the several extra lines of piping round the borders of their Pelzaks. They looked round as if looking for somebody - and one marched straight up to Errol and bent his arm up behind his back. Errol froze in obvious disbelief, and looked wildly round the room. Jamieson started to get up, even though he couldn't see what he could do. On seeing him rise, two more of the officers came across the room and insisted that he and Oression get up to accompany them.

        Jamieson's bowels turned to water and he started to go weak at the knees.

        "Oression, I really am very sorry," he said to her.

        But all she did was stare at the ceiling as one of the men pinned her arm up behind her back at the same time as another did the same to him. Then she began to wail a keening wail that chilled him to the bone. People turned to stare at her. Again Jamieson just didn't know what he could possibly do.

        As they were lead away with Errol, he noticed that Johnstone and Carol had not been approached. It seemed the police were not interested in them.

        Just before they were marched out of that room, Jamieson tried to look for Estelle or Sequeyhorn, but found he could no longer even turn his head.

        He then realized he had not seen them at all that evening, at least not since Johnstone had got things jumping with that Beatles music.

        He also remembered how the Noingi dealt with their mad, sad, and bad.