"You kidding?" he protested. "I barely make it to the can and back without a computer!"

"Would he be here with us, if he didn't have a knack for getting lost?" Thalia agreed, shouting after Maia, then added, louder still, "Innkeeper! More ale!"

The bathroom lay up a double flight of plank stairs. Closing the door behind her, Maia could still hear the women below, joking and laughing, and Renna's deeper voice joining in occasionally. Mostly, his contributions sounded like questions, though Maia could not make out words. Often, his queries brought on gales of laughter, which he seemed to take in good grace.

It felt strange undressing in the richly tiled bathroom, equipped with amenities she had to remind herself how to use. Maia kicked her soiled garments into a corner and went first to the shower, adjusting the knobs until hot water from the rooftop heater flowed steadily. They probably use good ol Port Sanger coal, she thought incongruously. Stepping under the stream, she proceeded to lather her body. The soap was harsh and doubtless homemade, but less expensive than importing the real thing from some specialist clan, far away. Nevertheless, it felt luxurious. Turning off the water between rinsings, Maia proceeded to scrape off layer after layer of grime, until her skin squeaked when rubbed. Then she started on her hair, scrubbing her scalp and working out tangles.

Don't know why I bother, she wondered. It's in such a state, I’ll probably have to hack it all off anyway.

Rinsing carefully one last time, Maia turned off the tap and tiptoed over to the broad wooden tub, by a small window overlooking the wharfs of Grange Head. She flipped back the hinged cover, exposing the steaming surface. To her relief, the water was pristine. There were stories about male sailors who forgot — or had never been taught — the proper procedure, and who actually used the bath for cleaning themselves, leaving the tub coated with soap and scum for the next person. With men, one just never knew what to expect, and as an alien, Renna might have been doubly confused.

Then again, perhaps there was only one civilized way. However barbaric their unmodified sexual patterns, cultured people on other worlds probably bathed the same way as on Stratos.

Alas, there would be no time to ask about that, or countless other quandaries, before escorted aircraft came from the west to whisk Renna away. At odd moments during their escape, she had pictured going with him all the way to Caria and seeing the city's wonders. But in more lucid reflection Maia knew — she might as well ask to be taken along when he departed for the stars.

I wonder if he'll remember me when he's hobnobbing with savants and council members . . . or flying between planets long after I'm food for worms. It was a tough, wry contemplation, appropriate for the type of hard, worldly person she decided to become — ready for anything, shocked by nothing. And, especially, vulnerable to nobody.

The shower had been tepid, but the bath was so hot that it stung her innumerable cuts and scratches. Maia slipped lower by stages, until water sloshed over the sides into a waiting drain.

Heaven! Heat seemed to melt every part that was tense or callused, uncoiling muscles that had been taut without her noting. Troubles and worries she still had, but they went limp for the time being, along with her body. The sensuousness of lying completely motionless matched any active pleasure she knew.

Languidly, Maia lifted one arm to look at it from all sides, let it drop, and did the same thing with the other, regarding where recent months had left their marks. Next she examined each leg. A small scar on this shin, a healing scratch on that ankle, a couple of tender spots saddle-rubbed during that long ride on horseback . . . and one small battle wound that she made a mental note to keep clean over the days ahead, lest it get infected. Even here, in "civilization," medical care was catch-as-catch-can, and she hardly had the resources to pay.

There was a knock, and the door started swinging. Thalia stuck her head in. "Everything all right?" the stocky woman asked.

"Oh! Fine, great . . . I'll get out." With a sigh, Maia reached for the rim.

"Don't be silly. You just got in!" Thalia chided. "I just heard the innkeeper's got a washload goin'. We're tossing in our grungies. Want yours done, too?" She nodded toward the filthy garments in the corner.

Maia winced at the thought of ever wearing them again, but they were all she had. "Yeah, please. Kind of you."

Thalia swept up the clothes. "Don't mention it. Enjoy your bath. An' have all the luck in the world."

She closed the door and Maia sank back into the tub, relishing how the heat swarmed in again. It had been disappointing, thinking it was over so soon. Now she felt happier than if she had been left undisturbed! Not that everything melted in the hot water. The sound of the locomotive, its electric thrum along the rails, was still in her head. Nor, try as she might, could Maia push aside all her worries.

Staying ashore was out of the question. Tizbe and the Joplands would surely catch up with her. The sea was her only option. With what Maia had learned about navigation — and the Game of Life — perhaps some captain could be persuaded to give her a trial billet on crew, not just as passenger, second class. Ideally a slot to last through late spring, when rut season forced women ashore. By that time, she ought to have saved a credit or two.

In all justice, she should get a small portion of the reward Kiel and Baltha were collecting. Maia trusted Renna to stick up for her, though from the size of the getaway cabal, her share still wasn't likely to be large.

There was also the matter of her appointment with the PES investigator, now long overdue because of circumstances beyond her control. Was it too late to make good her promise? Would testimony before a local magistrate suffice? Part of her determination was personal. Tizbe Beller locked me up to keep me from talking. So that's exactly what I'll do! Of all the sensations warming her — freedom, cleanliness, the physical luxury of the bath — she dwelled for a few minutes on revenge. The Bellers and Joplands will be sorry they ever made me their enemy, she vowed grandly.

It wasn't a sound that tickled Maia's attention. Rather, she grew gradually, uncomfortably aware of a certain lack of sound. Frowning, it began to dawn on her that it had been a while since she'd heard the murmur of conversation on the porch below. Or the pacing of the var on watch, or the clinking of bottles, or Renna's persistent, naive questions.

Suddenly, the bath no longer felt luxurious, but confining. I'm probably turning into a prune, anyway, she thought. Her relaxed muscles had to be coaxed into lifting her weight out of the tub. While toweling herself, Maia could not suppress a rising sense of foreboding. Something was wrong.

Maia lowered the cover of the bathtub and climbed on top to reach the solitary window, wiping the foggy pane and pressing close to peer down, onto the veranda. Rows of empty bottles lay along the balcony railing, but where the women had been sitting, no one remained in sight.

Probably Kiel and Baltha came back with news, she thought. But nobody was visible near the main entrance, either. Did they go in to eat? she wondered.

Maia shoved upward against the window until it slid along wooden tracks, sash weights rattling on both sides. Fresh, chill air streamed in, sowing goose bumps as moisture evaporated from her skin. She stuck her head out and called, "Hey! Where is everybody?"

A few locals were in view near a warehouse, loading a horse-drawn wagon. When she stretched a little farther and turned left, she saw a crowd down at the embankment, far below, moving toward one of the piers. Maia's heart surged when she recognized Thalia's stocky form and Baltha's shock of blonde hair. No. They wouldn't do that to me! But there was Renna. Taller than Baltha, walking awkwardly with his arms around two of the women, rocking from side to side.