"Yeah," he went on. "They've got to be stopped, here and now."

"You and your brother will do it," Raj said. "With our help." -and the meteorite was smooth under his fingers.

John Hosten half fell to the dock. Raj? he thought. Center? Was this some sort of crazy dream? Maybe he was really back in his bunk at school, waiting for reveille.

The dockers were looking at him, dull curiosity, or simply noting that he was something moving. Jeffrey Farr three-quarters fell down the net after him, his face stunned and slack. John caught him automatically, pushing the limp form against the cargo net so that he could cling and support himself. You too? do not show distress, the machine-voice said in his mind.

Putt yourselves together, lads, Raj continued. The voice was equally silent, but it had the modulation of human speech, without the sense of cold bottomless depth that Center's carried.

"John! Jeffrey!"

There was anger in the adult's voices. Jeffrey's face was pale enough that the freckles stood out like birthmarks, but he smiled his gap-toothed grin.

"Hey, we're in some shit now, man." "Let's go."

"Say good-bye to your father," Sally Hosten said.

John stepped forward. "Sir."

Karf gave a tiny forward jerk of his head. "Mm sohn"

He extended his hand; John stared at it in surprise for an instant. That was the greeting among equals. Then he bowed and took it. The impersonal power clamped briefly on his. A servant came forward at Karl's signal.

"Here," Karl said. He handed John a cloth-wrapped bundle. Within was a gunbelt and revolver. "This was my father's. You should have it. This and my name are all that Fate allows me to leave you." ™Thh… thank you, sir," John said.

His eyes prickled, but he fought the feeling down. Why now? Even by Chosen standards, Karl had never been a demonstrative man.