"I heard she was here," Gurgeh said.

"She's at Hafflis's table. Shall we go and meet her?"

"Why not?" Gurgeh stood; the machine floated away.

"Nervous?" Mawhrin-Skel asked as they headed through the crowds towards one of the raised terraces level with the lake, where Hafflis's apartments were.

"Nervous?" Gurgeh said. "Of a child?"

Mawhrin-Skel floated silently for a moment or two as Gurgeh climbed some steps — Gurgeh nodded and said hello to a few people then the machine came close to him and said quietly, as it slowly stripped the petals from the dying blossom, "Want me to tell you your heart rate, skin receptivity level, pheromone signature, neuron function-state…?" Its voice trailed off as Gurgeh came to a halt, half-way up the flight of broad steps.

He turned to face the drone, looking through half-hooded eyes at the tiny machine. Music drifted over the lake, and the air was full of the nightflowers" musky scent. The lighting set into the stone balustrades lit the game-player's face from underneath. People flooding down the steps from the terrace above, laughing and joking, parted round the man like waters round a rock, and — Mawhrin-Skel noticed — went oddly quiet as they did so. After a few seconds, as Gurgeh stood there, silent, breathing evenly, the little drone made a shuckling noise.

"Not bad," it said. "Not bad at all. I can't tell just yet what you're glanding, but that's a very impressive degree of control. Everything parameter-centred, near as damn. Except your neuron function-state; that's even less like normal than usual, but then your average civilian drone probably couldn't spot that. Well done."

"Don't let me detain you, Mawhrin-Skel," Gurgeh said coldly. "I'm sure you can find something else to amuse you besides watching me play a game." He continued up the broad steps.