* * *

It was scarcely past local sunset, which meant that the air was unpleasantly, warm. In another hour, it would be clement, the breezes rising with the near satellite, but by then, Val Con thought gloomily, they would be at the Trade Reception that was the reason the Passage had stopped at Pomerlooport.

"Did Nova write you?" Val Con asked Shan, as they followed Uncle Er Thom down the Yard.

"Recently? She might have done, but Ken Rik's kept me so busy I haven't been near a mail-queue or a duty roster in three shifts. Which is why I was late for the shuttle."

"I was scarcely before you," Val Con said, gloomily. "Only long enough to be handed a comb and a scold."

Shan looked at him. "And why were you late, Cabin-Boy?"

"Because of Nova's letter—I told you."

"Did you? But I'm dull today—those shifts without sleep do wear down one's wits. Only wait until you serve Master Ken Rik, Brother!"

"Am I likely to?"

"You don't think Father's going to space you this trip, do you?" Shan asked with interest.

"It might muss my hair," Val Con said quellingly.

"There are gels," his brother told him, refusing to cross knives. "If you like, I will find some for you. In the meanwhile, I think I may have pieced together a whole cloth. You rose and showered. Upon return, you spied the mail light, and naturally wished to know who had written. You opened the letter, read it, and only then recalled the duty roster! Which you opened, to discover that you were all but late. Do I have this correctly?"

"You do. Never say you've done the same."

"I will not tell you how many times. However, I will say that eventually I did learn to open the duty roster first, a strategy that I strongly council you to adopt. It has saved me any number of scoldings on the topic of tardiness. In the interests of full disclosure I note that I have graduated to more advanced topics."