The smell of roasting fish was heavy on the air. Kawaresksenjajok and Harkabeeparolyn were doing things in the makeshift kitchen.

Their infant daughter seemed happy enough at one end of the table itself. At the other end, the raw half of a huge fish awaited the Kzin’s pleasure.

Chmeee eyed the fish. “Your luck was good,” he approved. His eyes roved the ceiling and walls. He found what he sought: a glittering fractal spiderweb just under the great orange bulb at the apex of the dome.

The City Builders entered, wiping their hands. Kawaresksenjajok, a boy not much past adolescence; Harkabeeparolyn, his mate, some years older; both quite bald across the crowns of their heads, their hair descending to cover their shoulder blades. Harkabeeparolyn picked up the baby and gave it suck. Kawaresksenjajok said, “We lose you soon.”

Chmeee said, “We have a spy. I thought as much, but now we know it. The puppeteer placed cameras among us.”

The boy laughed at his anger. “We would do the same to him. To seek knowledge is natural!”

“In less than a day I will be free of the eyes of the puppeteer. Kawa, Harkee, I will miss you greatly. Your company, your knowledge, your skewed wisdom. But my thought will be mine alone!”

I’m losing them all, the Hindmost thought. Survival suggests that I build a road to take them back to me. He said, “Folk, will you give me an hour to entertain you?”

The City Builders gaped. The Kzin grinned. Louis Wu said, “Entertain… sure.”

“If you’ll turn off the light?”

Louis did that. The puppeteer whistle-sang. He was looking through the display, watching their faces.