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    "They have changed," Dayna whispered. She was perched twenty feet up a fir tree, peering through a vision-scope. She slid rapidly down the trunk in a shower of bark shreds, leaping the last six feet to land in a snowdrift. She rose to her feet, swiping the loose snow off her garments. "They have a village of sorts. I didn't see any weapons, but I got a good look at some of the inhabitants."
    "The Links, you mean," Vila said, shivered. "Nasty, ugly things."
    Dayna shook her head. "They're people. Wearing furs, not growing them."
    "I thought you said there weren't any humans on this planet," Jenna said. "Could they be Federation?"
    "I doubt it. They look like primitives to me. Maybe there were some. After all, we didn't have time for a planetary survey. We were rather busy."
    "Avoiding Links. Trying not to freeze. Liberator  melting. Bases exploding. That sort of thing," Vila supplied. Dayna glared at him, and he shut up.
    "How many of them are there?" Blake asked.
    "Not many. There are only a half dozen small huts and three larger ones."
    "So we could take them," Soolin said, checking the charge on her gun.
    Blake held up his hand. "Let's save that for a last resort. Most primitives aren't aggressive. They are probably simple, peaceful folk."
    "Ever hear of head-hunters, or cannibals?" Vila muttered.
    Jenna said, "They could be dangerous."
    "Everyone is dangerous, once they're threatened," Blake said, giving her a gentle, understanding smile. "Especially us. But let us try the diplomatic route first."
    "There's one thing you haven't considered, Blake," Jenna said. "What if they don't speak Standard?"
   "Oh, I'm sure they'll understand us." Blake turned. "But in case they don't, I want you to wait here," he said, looking at Puss.
    Puss growled. She wasn't built for patience. She could smell Avon, almost feel his presence, and she wanted very much to simply go to him and take him.
    Blake put his hand on her shoulder, having to reach up to do so. He stared into her eyes, impressing her with his force of will. "You must. For Avon. It could endanger him if we rush in. If we are captured, then I'm relying on you to use your own best judgment." Blake smiled. "I have every confidence in your ability to rescue us, if need be."
    The tigris spat something in her own language, which Blake was rather glad he couldn't translate.
    "She always did think like him," Vila put in. He cleared his throat and said, tentatively, "Probably won't be any locks to pick if they're all that primitive."
   Jenna said, "Well, if you want to explain to Puss that you've got cold feet, I'm sure she'd understand. Eventually."
    Vila swallowed hard. "All right, you've talked me into it. But just one thing..."
    "Yes?" Blake asked, mind already on the mission.
    "Somebody please talk me out of it."
   
    The village was even smaller than Dayna had led them to believe. Up close, Blake saw that the larger huts were some sort of storage, probably food. Idly, he wondered how these few people managed to keep the Links at bay. The only thing that had kept him from having to fight a running battle was the fact that Puss was a uniquely impressive predator.
   "We come in peace!" he shouted, when they had come within shouting range. It was uncomfortably close to weapons range, if these folk had progressed to the bow and arrow stage, if not percussion weapons.
    "Hello."
  Well, so much for language difficulties. The person approaching them was bare-handed, bareheaded and weaponless. He smiled as he approached. "It would be better if you did not shout," he said as he neared.
    Dayna said, "Why?" thinking perhaps it was part of some primitive greetings ritual, and wanting to know what else was expected.
    "Because you might awaken them," he answered as if it was obvious. He smiled again, teeth gleaming against his ebony skin. He looked at Dayna, curious, then at Soolin. "Your people must have a very wide genetic base."
    Blake stared. This was not the sort of thing you expected from your average primitive. Even a non-human one, as it was quickly becoming apparent this man was. "We are human. From Earth. Have you heard of Earth?"
    "Oh, yes." The man frowned. "I do not think we would care for it. The Teacher has told us no one lives under the open sky there."
    "Frankly, at the moment, I wouldn't mind a little shelter from the elements," Vila said. He was beginning to think that they weren't going to be attacked, but just stand out in the snow and talk themselves to death.
    "We do not have domes," the 'man' said, waving in the general direction of the small village. "But you are welcome to come into our homes." He started to turn, then stopped and looked back at them. "My name is Cesar."
    "Roj Blake." Blake started to introduce the others, but Cesar's reaction stopped him.
    Cesar's eyes widened. "Blake?" He grinned. "This is very good. The Teacher will be so happy. Come, come!" He headed toward the village at a brisk pace, quickly pulling ahead of the tired search party. Heads began popping out of hide-flap doorways in the village, although there had been no particular sound to attract attention.
    Dayna tensed and put one hand on the butt of her weapon, fearing a trap. The heads pulled back. "They know about guns, Blake," she warned, softly. "Be careful, this whole situation is very odd."
    "Odd? Odd, she calls it," Vila muttered, shaking his head. "This whole planet was designed by madmen, Avon's gone crazy to jump ship here, and I'm completely out of my mind to follow him."
    "So everything's about as usual," Soolin said mildly. She did not put her hand on her weapon. She didn't need to. If there was any trouble, it would be dead before it got around to introducing itself. Which brought up another out-of-kilter point. "Cesar didn't ask our names. He only gave his as an afterthought. You would think he'd never met anyone before."
    "That is odd," Jenna agreed, unable to resist baiting Vila. She moved closer to Blake, and didn't mind in the least putting her hand on her gun.
    "Maybe they don't like to know the names of the people they eat," Vila said, a bit too loudly.
    "Shut up," Blake replied. He was on edge already, and didn't need Vila's histrionics.
    Soolin gave Vila a push. "Do be quiet, Vila, dear. And stay out of my line of sight."
    Cesar stopped in front of one of the smaller huts. He hesitated and spoke as if to himself. "They need to sleep. But the Teacher would want to know that Blake is here." He seemed to come to a decision, and lifted the leather flap, exposing a dark alcove. "Go in." Then he sat down on a rough bench, picked up a half-sewn fur garment, and began guiding a sinew-threaded bone needle along the seam.
    Blake hesitated, too, then shrugged, and started forward. Jenna caught at his sleeve. "Wait!"
    "It's all right, Jenna. We're in no danger."
    "And how do you deduce that?" she asked, while the others kept watch on the village.
    "I... I feel it. I've lived this long by trusting my instincts."
    "You only have to be wrong once," Jenna pointed out. "If you'd been on the Gauda base instead of your half-demented copy..." Blake's cold expression stopped her in mid-sentence.
    "You think Avon would have shot me?" There was a long pause. "Perhaps. I don't always read him right, and I frequently infuriate him. He doesn't always read me right, and frequently infuriates me. I don't know what happened to him, but I am sure he needs me."
    "Needs you?" Jenna made an unladylike noise. "Then why did he run?"
    "I don't know. When I find him, I'll ask him." Blake turned back to the hut entrance. "Who knows, he may even answer me. Dayna, Soolin, keep watch," he said, implicitly ordering Jenna and Vila to follow.
    Blake stepped into the entrance, finding himself in a small, dark alcove, facing another flap of leather. Jenna was at his back, and after a brief scuffle, in which Dayna expressed herself sharply, Vila squeezed in beside them. "Why me?" he asked.
    "You wanted to get in out of the snow," Blake pointed out. He did not mention his real reason, as it would sound ridiculous, even to Vila, but he knew somehow, that Avon was in this hut. The three of them were his oldest friends, and should be the ones to see him first. Blake drew a deep breath, and thrust the inner hide-curtain aside, and stepped boldly into the hut. There were no windows, but it was well enough illuminated by oil-lamps to reveal three bodies wrapped in fur blankets- sleeping - as Cesar had said.
    "Avon?" Blake whispered. Behind him, he sensed Jenna and Vila moving up, intent on the sleepers.
    The middle body stirred. Furs shifted. "Blake?", muttered soft, and grumbling, the way Avon always did when he didn't want to be disturbed.
    Before Blake could step forward or even express his relief, Avon sat up, stared into Blake's face and screamed. There were no words, just a noise of pure terror.
    The other sleepers flung off their covers and leaped upon Avon, bearing him back flat amongst the furs. Blake lunged forward, torn between the instinct to pull Avon away from them and the impression that they were trying to help. Avon's frenzy took the decision out of Blake's hands. The three of them couldn't hold him down, particularly when two of them were slightly built.
    Soolin and Dayna rushed in, guns out, and stopped in confusion when they saw it was a problem guns wouldn't solve.
    "Vila, the med-kit, quick!" Blake called, leaning heavily on Avon's chest.
    Vila overcame his shock and scrambled to open the pack. He dumped the whole thing on the fur-covered floor and snatched out a tranquilizer pad. "Here!" He ran to Blake, and slapped the patch on Avon's forehead. Instantly, Avon slumped, silent. Vila got a good look at all of four of them, tangled together. He stood up, trembling, and backed away. "No! You can't be here."
     "Vila? Blake? Oh, Jenna!"  Blake and Jenna were as startled as Vila when Cally released Avon's arm, smiled at them and held out her arms. "Oh, I have missed you so." Jenna rushed forward, but Blake caught her.
    "What! Blake, let me go!" Jenna exclaimed, twisting futilely in his grasp.
    "That isn't Cally."
    Dayna had let her weapon drop, as she took a hesitant step forward. She knew better, but she needed to come closer, to see for herself. "It looks like Cally," she said, softly. "But..."
    "Of course it's her," Jenna insisted.
    "No," Vila said. His face was paper white. "She died here. Avon saw her body. He told me. He couldn't have lied, not about that!"
    Cally lowered her arms and sighed. The stripe-haired man looked at her, puzzled. He would have spoken, but Cally said, "No, Jason, this isn't something you can cure. Please, leave us alone. It will be all right."
    "Go with him," Blake snapped, indicating Dayna and Soolin. If this was some sort of trap, he wanted them keeping an eye on the  outside.
    Reluctantly, they left, giving backward glances as they went.
    I am Cally, Cally telepathed to Blake, Jenna and Vila.
    Blake's eyes narrowed. "I have been fooled by the Federation before now."
    "Servalan hasn't given up on us, yet," Vila added. "She's always wanted our heads above her mantel."
    "Blake's," Jenna said, wryly. "And Avon's. I can't see her displaying you with pride, Vila."
    Blake ignored the banter. He was staring into Cally's face. "I would like to believe you are Cally. Convince me."
    "If you seriously think that Servalan has sifted the galaxy for an Auron she missed in the slaughter of my people and had her remade in my image just to trap you, then you are far too paranoid to believe whatever I say. What proofs can I offer? Would you like to see the scars I bear from fighting the Federation? Would you like me to recall all the intimate details of life aboard the Liberator?  Shall I repeat the first thing I told you when we met? Would you like to die alone and silent ?" She telepathed the last four words with the equivalent of a shout. Then she went on, out loud, "I have already done that. I have done everything you ever asked of me, Blake, and more. If you can not bring yourself to trust me, then take Avon and go."
    "I trust you," Blake said, abruptly.
    Now it was Cally's turn to doubt. "You are just saying that."
    "No." Blake smiled. "I really do."
    "Why?" Cally was puzzled. She had done nothing more than lose her temper.
    "Because you assumed I would believe Servalan behind the trap. Officially, she's dead. If this was a Federation trap that she wasn't behind, they'd not use her name. And if she was behind it, she would hardly confess her identity to her puppet."
    "This is all very confusing," Vila complained.
    Jenna agreed. "After all, Blake, if you want to use logic like that, then what's to say Servalan didn't think you'd think that way, and tell her 'Cally' to call her Servalan?"
    Vila put his hands to the sides of his head. "Don't, Jenna. My head is spinning."
    Cally looked silently at Blake, waiting the final verdict.
    Blake said, "I believe you. I don't require any evidence." He glanced at Avon. "Too little trust can be as dangerous as too much. Come with us, Cally. We have a ship and there is still a Federation to be overthrown."
    "I would like to," Cally said, slowly. "But I can not abandon my responsibilities here. These people took me in and saved my life. With my help, they are just barely surviving. If I leave, then I may as well dig their graves before I go."
    "You want us to take them too?" Blake asked.
    Cally nodded, eyes solemn. "Not for long. Just to a suitable world. I know one where they would be welcomed."
    "How many are there?" Jenna put in, before Blake could generously get them into another impossible fix. "The Stiletto's  not a planetary evacuation vessel."
    "Only ten. And they are not a very large people," Cally said, as if that would make a difference. "We could take them to Kaarn. It is reasonably close to this sector."
    "I've never heard of the planet," Jenna said.
    "It is the last refuge of my people. By now, I hope there will be hundreds of Auronar, but they will need help to build a world. The people of Terminal are highly gifted, in ways the Auron gods promised us would be ours. They will be respected and valued members of society." She looked at Blake's hands. "No teleport?" she asked, noting the lack of bracelets.  
    Blake sighed. "We used to have one."
    "Until Avon chucked a spanner in it, after he teleported down to this miserable icicle," Vila complained.
    "Then we walk," Cally said. "I hope it is not far." She assumed it had been agreed and no one objected, not even Vila.
    Vila groaned, thinking of the weary miles through cold, wet, and heavy snowdrifts. And Avon would get to ride, while he had to trudge along in the middle of a bunch of toothy aliens.
    Cesar came in, grinning from ear to ear- incidentally making Vila even more nervous- and leading two men who were carrying a litter.  "We are all ready," he informed Cally. "Thank you, Teacher."
    "How did he know?" Blake asked. He watched as the men proceeded to pack Avon in the litter, and muffle him with furs. They picked up the litter and left the hut without a word.
    Cally said, "Their gifts vary. Eldora sees futures. She has seen us all leaving Terminal many times in the last few weeks. She has also seen us all die, destroyed by what she perceived as lightning." Cally pointed at Blake's gun. "Perhaps that was what she saw. It could have gone either way."
    Blake, Cally, Jenna and Vila followed Cesar and the litter bearers out of the hut. Dayna and Soolin fell in beside them, disconcerted by the cheerful faces surrounding them. "So we're all friends, then?" Soolin said, skeptically.
    "Yes," Cally replied, firmly.
    Vila added, "And we're taking them all with us." He did not sound thrilled at the prospect.
    "Um. Tight quarters," was Soolin's only comment. She'd seen stranger people, and all her instincts told her there was no hostility in them. Of course, she had been fooled by Dorian. Well, wait and see. She wasn't in charge, so there was no point in protesting. Particularly when everyone else was off-balance by Cally's return. "Um. Don't you think someone ought to tell..." A loud squall and a flurry of snow announced Puss's arrival. "...her," Soolin finished, dryly.  She had time to finish because the litter bearers quickly lowered Avon to the ground and gave Puss a clear field. They were calm about it, which was fortunate, really. For their sakes.
    Blake allowed the tigris a few moments to assure herself that Avon was alive and in no immediate danger. Then he said, "Puss. We've got to get Avon back to the ship."
    She looked up, blinked, and spread her whiskers in agreement. Her ruffled fur was already smoothing. She watched closely as the litter was lifted, then she resumed her place as point guard for the party. She didn't seem to notice the additions to their group. But then, Puss was a single-minded sort. So long as Avon was in trouble, nothing else mattered to her.
    They started walking again. Cally's alien friends moved quietly, and as quickly as the rest of the group, even though they were all carrying heavy-looking packs.
    "Who is that?" Cally asked Blake once Puss had moved beyond what might be considered earshot.
    Vila answered for him, as Blake was looking distracted. "Puss. Pavra and I picked her up on Del Ten. She's very fond of Avon." He shrugged. "No accounting for taste."
    "Pavra?" Cally looked at Soolin.
    "No, I'm Soolin." Soolin almost smiled at the thought of her being mistaken for Pavra. "Pavra is on Stiletto, along with Tarrant. Keeping it warm, I hope."
    Cally briefly closed her eyes in relief. She hadn't wanted to ask about Tarrant, not yet. So long as no one said it, then she had hope. She had been playing these little games on herself for years, in order to keep going. Dreams and a lot of selective listening to Eldora's futures had kept her from giving up her hopes. Now it was here and real, and better than she dared to dream.
    Dayna said, "You'll like Stiletto. It's not as big as Liberator, of course, but it's very comfortable. Not surprising, really, considering who the previous owner was." Her eyes glittered.
    "Servalan?" Cally guessed. "She is still alive, then."
    "I know. It's a pity. One of these days I'll have to do something about it," Dayna said.
    Soolin said, "Speaking of people who ought to be dead and aren't, what about you?"
    Cally blinked, and said, "I didn't die. Despite what you have heard."
    Soolin's eyes narrowed. "Avon is usually reliable about things like that."
    "Anyone can make a mistake. Even Avon.  I was badly hurt, and he thought I was dead. He was too upset to make certain, I believe. There was a great deal of blood."
    Vila laughed. It wasn't funny, but he couldn't help it. "Avon, scared of the sight of blood?"
    Cally frowned. "I did not say he was frightened. He has always had an -" she paused, as if seeking the proper word, "aversion to the sight of others' blood."
    "Are we talking about the same man?" Vila asked.
    "Vila." Cally said, with the same exasperated patience she'd always felt for him. "Avon is like you. What he chooses to show the world is not all that he is."
    "And what is he?" Blake asked. He had his own opinions and wondered if Cally's matched his.
    "A man." Cally smiled. "Complicated and simple, by turns. Devious and honest, honorable and selfish, physically courageous and emotionally timid." She looked down at Avon. "He is very confused, right now. I believe he is under the impression that you are all dead. I sensed great guilt, and unacknowledged grief. Were you separated under circumstances that could have led him to think you dead, and himself responsible?"
    "Not recently," Blake replied.
    "But it has happened?"
    "Yes, but that was a long time ago. It's all been settled." Blake frowned, looking at Avon's still, pale face just visible through the furs swathing the litter. "Why should he suddenly bring that all up again? There was no warning."
    "None?" Cally asked. "There was no reason?"
    Blake shook his head. "He'd been acting irritable since we entered this quadrant, but nothing happened." He recalled the brief squabble they'd had - was it only last night?- but that was so mild, compared to what Avon was capable of, that he couldn't consider it traumatic. "We've actually been taking it easy of late, recharging our batteries and making plans. No battles worth mentioning."
    Vila made a face. "I'd much rather no battles at all."
    Dayna sniffed. "That's no fun, Vila. You have to learn to enjoy it. The thrill of the chase, the excitement of the fight, the exhilaration of survival. Feeling the adrenaline rushing into your bloodstream..."
    "I prefer mine mixed with Soma," Vila informed her. "And served in a nice, warm room." He blew on his hands and stuffed them back into his pockets.
    Cally was silent. She was thinking about Avon. Why, if Blake was right, should Avon have suddenly become irrational? While he had annoying personality faults, the man had always been rigorously sane, when she knew him. Under stress, perhaps, he might have changed- but Blake said there had been no stress. Obviously, if there were no  internal reason for his condition, then it had to be externally caused. There were drugs which would drive anyone mad, but she doubted Blake's ship would carry them.
    And if someone had somehow done this to Avon, then why? Beyond a perverted revenge what purpose was served by...  Wait. Look at the matter logically, as Avon would have done. Assume that there was a purpose, and that it had succeeded.  Avon's madness had brought Blake here. Had brought a ship. The ship that would save Cally and the psi-Links. She stumbled slightly, feeling sick at the thought.
    It was the only way,  Cesar's mental voice came into her head. Eldora saw it. We wished to do no harm to your friend, but we had given up on Blake.
    Blake!  Cally thought furiously, glaring at Cesar. What did you do!
    We- used you; used your affinity for your friends. You had not the strength to reach them, but you dreamed of them, and the dreams told us where they were. We tried asking them to come, but only Blake responded at all. For over a year, we have been trying to bring him to Terminal. We could only reach him emotionally, so we gave him good feelings when he was closer to us, and bad ones when he was further away.
    "It was very slow, and he did not always respond. Ten days ago, he was so close that we tried to communicate in words. It did not work, and it hurt him. Someone else felt his pain, and we realized there was a sensitive on the ship. We were desperate, fearing the ship would pass, and they would never return, so we interfered with your dreams. Made you dream of each of your friends, until we were able to find the sensitive. It was Avon.
    Avon was never psi,  Cally protested silently. Of them all, he was always the hardest for me to reach.
    He is psi, now.
    Cally couldn't deny that. When she and Jason had entered Avon's mind, she felt the resonance, the reaction one sensitive has for another. He wasn't a telepath, she'd swear to that, but whatever he was, it left him open to her in ways he had never been. Her lips tightened. Vulnerable to her friends, as well. Perhaps Avon was not entirely wrong, never to trust, if this is what her trusted friends did to him.
    No! It was not to be this way. We only meant to convince him that you were alive, that he should come here for you. He resisted us. He felt more clearly than Blake, and understood what we told him, but he did not believe.  He wanted you to be alive, very much, but he denied himself the comfort of belief. We kept trying. It hurt him, wearied him, but it hurt us, too. Finally, he did something that made his mind more receptive.
    Cally could imagine how it was for Avon, with ten espers all pressing on his mind, trying to break his will. After ten days of that, he must have been exhausted, but still unable to rest. So Avon did the logical thing. He took a sedative. Probably one of the hypnotics, as they worked well for him. And you attacked him in his sleep.
    We forced belief on him. We made him know that you were here, alive, needing his help. We told him you would die if he did not come. And still he resisted us. He wanted to tell the others, to talk to them about it. He was unsure of his mind. We were afraid. The others might think it was a trap. So we looked into his past, to a time when he thought they were all dead. And forced him to that time again.
    That was cruel.
    Yes. But it went further than we meant. He was to return to the present after seeing you and Blake together. We knew he would be very angry, but you have told us how practical Avon is, so we thought he would still agree to take us from here, in return for restoring you to him.
    What went wrong? Cally didn't bother to deny her importance to Avon. They had begun to share an understanding. It might have led to more, if Avon hadn't been so single-minded, and so often at odds with Cally's ethics. They had never been lovers, but they were more than friends.
    He came to the present, but he refused to believe it. He knows it is true, but he will not believe it. We do not know why.
    Oh, Avon.   Cally shook her head and blinked away the moisture forming at the corners of her eyes. Avon would not appreciate her crying over him.
    "Are you all right?" Blake asked.
    Cally looked up, startled. She had continued to walk as she spoke with Cesar, but automatically, without paying any attention to her surroundings. Not a very clever thing to do on Terminal, even with the psi-avoidance barrier her friends used to keep the Links at bay. Blake was holding her left elbow firmly and marching in step with her. He acted as if he'd been doing it for quite some time. She couldn't pretend to have had a momentary lapse, even if she had wanted to mislead Blake. "I think I know what happened to Avon."
    Blake stopped, gripping her arm hard enough to hurt. "What?"
    "My friends were desperate. They brought Avon here. They didn't understand him and they made a mistake."
    "A mistake!" Blake was furious. He pointed at Avon. "They could have killed him. He may yet die. Or worse. And you want us to rescue them?"
    "Blake. It was a mistake. Would you condemn an entire race to death because of that?"
    Blake's face was stern. "Not if it was a mistake," he said, finally. "I know you believe them, but if they were able to 'bring' Avon here, then how do you know they haven't influenced your judgment, too?"
    "I would know," Cally said, firmly.
    Blake gave her a sideways look, considering. "How? How do you regain your surety of self, once your mind has been tampered with?"
    Angry, Cally snapped, "I have not..." Then she stopped, and gazed at Blake. "We are not talking about me, are we, Blake?" Her voice gentled. "It has been years, and Orac removed all traces of your programming."
    "Did he?" Blake asked. "I think not. Maybe they don't directly control me, any more, but I am driven to do the opposite of what they want. Sometimes even when that is not the optimal plan. I've been hurt, and I strike back where it will hurt my enemy the most. Even if I hurt my friends, too. Avon has caught a lot of the fall-out. So far he has recovered from each disaster, but how much can a man take?" He whispered the last, and walked over to the litter.
    Cally did not try to talk to Blake again. Now was not the time. Later, when Avon was recovered, they could discuss this rationally. She hoped.

    Tarrant and Pavra had been watching the external monitors all along, and were finally rewarded. "There! Do you see that?" he said, pointing at the screen covering the stern of the ship.
    "I think so," Pavra said, uncertainly. "Is it them?"
    "I don't know. There are too many of them," he said, eying the lengthening line of figures. He couldn't make out any features at that distance and was only sure of Puss's identity.
    Andromeda had been watching the monitors, too, and not being reliant on merely human senses, had discovered them several seconds ago. "I can see Blake and the others, but there are strangers with them."
    "Blake is good at making friends," Pavra said.
    Tarrant added, "And enemies. One thing, they're not Links. Andromeda, do they look as if they're being coerced in any way?"
    "No," Andromeda replied, "but I can't tell what they're saying, and the strangers are carrying someone on a litter. It could be Avon. I don't see him anywhere else."
    Once again, Tarrant silently cursed the pig-headed genius who had decided to link the external communicator with the teleport bracelets. With the teleport out of commission, all the allied functions were down as well. So Blake could be leading a full Federation shock troop right up Stiletto's  vulnerable belly, without any way to warn them. "We'd best get out to meet them," he decided, picking up a pair of weapons. He handed the lighter one to Pavra, who gulped and took it.
    "You can handle one of these, can't you?"
    Pavra balanced the weapon, checked the energy charge and slipped the safety off. "Yes," she said, frowning. "But I've never liked it." She looked up at Tarrant. "I've killed before, if that's what you're wondering."
    "When you had to."
    Pavra's soft features tightened. "And when I wanted to. That was worse."
    "Yes, well, let's hope it doesn't come up." Tarrant led the way to the airlock, and released the outer hatch. He couldn't see the monitors from here, but he could use the internal communicators. "Blake?"
    "Yes, Tarrant, open the inner hatch," Even through the communicator Blake sounded harried, but that could be simply the effect of a cross-country walk amid hungry Links. From personal experience, Tarrant could say how that made the blood pressure rise.
    "After you're all in," Tarrant replied. "I'm allergic to Links." He had considered only permitting Stiletto crew in, but if they were hostages, that wouldn't work. Better to play innocent and try to trap them all between the locks. Dangerous, but it would give him a little leverage.
    "Oh, come on, Tarrant," came Vila's voice, loud, and with the normal amount of peevishness, "it's cold out here. Don't muck around."
    Then he heard Dayna, "Besides, we have a lovely surprise for you."
    And Soolin chuckled, and he could hear Puss purr. He didn't think anyone could intimidate the Feralin, and if they could, she couldn't act. She was far too direct. There wasn't any tension in any of their voices. "Andromeda," Tarrant said, "you're watching the external monitors. What do you think?"
    "I think it's all right," the computer replied. "Our people have the only guns I've seen."
   That left concealed weapons, threats against innocents, and blackmail poison, to name just three methods of keeping someone in line without being obvious about it. Tarrant hesitated, while Pavra stood silently, gun at the ready, willing to follow his lead.
    "I'm freezing!" Vila complained, making boot stomping noises. "And Ca..."
     Jenna said, "Shut up, Vila!" There was a scuffling noise, followed by Vila yelping softly.
    "You didn't have to do that!" Vila protested, "I wasn't going to spoil the surprise!"
    "What surprise?" Tarrant asked. He really didn't like surprises. Too many of them had involved guns and death.
    There was a brief pause, then another familiar voice spoke, "Hello, Tarrant."
    "Cally?" Tarrant jerked his head in negation. "Not possible. What sort of trick is this?"
    Then there was the softest, almost unimaginably gentle, sigh in his mind, followed by,  Really, Tarrant, you would almost think you were not glad to hear me. Please, let us in. The cold is not good for Avon, and I think the tigris is becoming impatient.
    Fumbling, Tarrant hit the inner airlock release. Belatedly, he turned to Pavra. "It's all right. It's crazy, but it's got to be all right."
    Pavra lowered her gun and waited as the safety interlocks registered compatible atmospheres on both sides of the airlock before it permitted simultaneous openings. Tarrant and Pavra watched as Blake and the rest of the crew filed in, pushing back parka hoods as they did. The crowd parted for Cally to come forward. She hugged Tarrant briefly, then Tarrant said, "So that's why Avon came here." He looked at the litter, which had been laid on the deck once everyone was clear of the airlock and the doors sealed. Avon was still unconscious. "You were taken over by aliens again?" he guessed.
    Cally winced. "I am afraid this time Avon was the victim."
    Tarrant said, "Well, I'm glad to see you, anyway, although I don't really believe it. Don't worry about Avon. He's tough." Tarrant rubbed the side of his neck. "Tougher than I'd like, sometimes."
    Blake cut in saying, "Tarrant, you're fully recovered?" He barely waited for Tarrant's nod to say, "Good, you can help keep an eye on our 'guests'." Blake indicated the group of short people with oddly color-patched hair who'd accompanied him out of the airlock. They were all carrying bundles and staring around at the unremarkable bulkheads as if astonished. They reminded Tarrant of a herd of day-trippers taking a guided tour.
    "And where will you be?" Tarrant asked, as the 'tourists' latched onto him, looking up at him in awe. Either that, or they were thinking 'the bigger they are, the harder they fall'.
    "In the medical unit with Avon and Cally," Blake answered, curtly.
    "And me," Pavra said. "Please?"
    Blake's frown softened for a moment, and he nodded. Then he turned back to Tarrant, "I mean it. Watch them. Soolin, Dayna, give him a hand." He took up one end of the litter and sent Vila scurrying to the other with a single, stern look. "Jenna, I want an immediate lift-off." He marched off with Cally and Pavra at either side, and Vila panting to keep up. Puss went with them, despite the lack of direct orders.
    Jenna looked after the parade, shrugged, and said, "I'd like a little help on the flight deck."
    Tarrant said, "I've got my hands full."
    "You can watch on the flight deck as well as anywhere else." Jenna seemed unconcerned about the possibility of their 'guests' taking over the ship.
    Tarrant rather liked the odds himself. The tallest of the little people was barely five foot, and none of them appeared to have any weapons. This was especially noticeable as they took off their outer furs in response to the higher temperatures inside the ship. They wore finely tanned shifts beneath that fit loosely, but not loosely enough to conceal anything more than a pocket knife. "All right. You lot, just leave your belongings here. That's right, coats and all." They were also gratifyingly meek, and quiet. Tarrant didn't think they'd have any problems. "We're going to the flight deck and you're to touch nothing. Do you understand?"
    "Yes, Tarrant," said the only one with solid color hair. He smiled, showing an excess amount of cutlery. "We are going to leave Terminal. This is good. Very good."
    "I'm so glad you're pleased. Come on."
   
    "I think our Fearless Leader is upset," Tarrant remarked after an uneventful take-off. Uneventful because both he and Jenna worked to keep it that way. He much preferred a nice, civilized landing pad- one without snow, hidden boulders, or suicidal Links diving into the exhaust. Messy, that. There was a small added interest in having ten passengers sitting on the deck, clinging to the chair and console supports, sliding around and laughing at every bump.
    "How ever did you deduce that?" Dayna said. "Personally, I think he's taking all this very well."
    "All what?" Tarrant asked, annoyed.
    "Well," Dayna said, exchanging glances with Soolin. "We weren't supposed to know, so how can we tell you?"
    "Someone had better tell me something," Tarrant said, gruffly. "I mean, where did all these little people come from?"
    Soolin smirked and said, "Didn't anyone ever tell you about the birds and the bees?"
    Tarrant let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, I know I'm not in on the high council, here, but I think I'm due a small amount of respect."
    "Very small," Dayna said.
    "Minuscule," Soolin added.
    Jenna took her hands off the controls, and said, "They're Cally's friends. We're to take them to some planet called Kaarn. For some reason, she thinks they'll be popular there."
    "Kaarn?" Tarrant looked at the smiling faces of their passengers. "Hmm. I hope you're good at changing nappies."
    Jenna gave Tarrant an odd look, then shook her head and returned her attention to the console. Blake was going to be all tied up in Avon's problems, along with most of the crew, so someone had to watch the shop. "Andromeda, set course for Kaarn. If you know where it is, that is."
    "Orac told me," Andromeda replied. "It sounds like a very nice place. Maybe we could stay and visit for a while?"
    Tarrant shuddered. "No, that is not a good idea. Wipe that from your memory banks. We stop, drop off the little guys and run like hell."
    "Why? What's the matter?" Jenna asked. "Cally said it was populated by her people. Last I heard they had no reason to like the Federation, or dislike us."
    Grinning, Dayna said, "Oh, they don't dislike us at all. On the contrary, we're heroes there. They'll probably kill the fatted calf for us."
    "And you object to that, Tarrant?" Jenna shook her head. "Nobody's that modest."
    Tarrant said, "The last time I was there, I threw my back out. Not that it wasn't satisfying in a way, but Franton doesn't know the meaning of the word 'stop'."
    Soolin and Jenna turned identical, speculative looks on Tarrant. Before either of them could comment, Dayna said, "Franton's the head of the Auron colony and she's very good at getting people to work. She had all of us putting up pre-fabs for a week."
    "All of us except Avon," Tarrant put in.
    "He did install a computer-controlled solar generator, and had Orac track down Auron exiles to join them."
    "I hope he didn't get any blisters from pushing buttons," Tarrant said, under his breath.

*************go to part 3 Change of Heart here *************