"It is true they behave offensively," the hunter screeched over the din. "They gesture obscenely. They stare with fixed eye contact! They consume great amounts of precious food, only to convert it to malodorous waste! They seldom wash, and their bodies stink. They are loud. They respect not our customs. They even fight among themselves. All of this is true. Yes, it is true! But that does not provide reason to condemn. It illustrates only that they are different."

It was a long speech for a hunter; Braan concluded, "Listen to steam user Toon. His counsel is well measured." The hunter returned to his seat.

The assembly was silent. The facilitator recognized Toon.

The spacers waited nervously in the dark, damp cavern. Although they could not see the river, its muted roar required them to raise their voices to be heard. Steam was thick and warm around them, yet icicles dripped from the ceiling and along catwalk chain railings. Dim globes stretched out before them, a string of dingy yellow pearls disappearing in the distant curve of the cavern. Sixty meters below and on the other side of the channel, another necklace of spirit lamps ran parallel to the first, following the channel course at the cavern's bottom. Cliff dwellers worked in the dim light, splashing, scraping, and pounding in the wet channel bottom. Lurking in shadows behind them a mysterious guilder stood between lamps, watching them carefully.

"Who's that?" MacArthur asked.

"Lizard's boss," Hudson replied. "That's the guy we have to impress."

"He's not impressing me slinking in the shadows," O'Toole said.

"Stop staring," Shannon said. "It makes them nervous."

The spacers turned their attention to Buccari and Lizard Lips walking toward them. The beings from different worlds had been scouting the cavern, silently communicating, using sign language and writing.

"We're sediment cleaners," Buccari announced. The tall human males circled the twosome, compelling Lizard Lips to take an involuntary step backward. Buccari reached over, put an arm around the cliff dweller's back, and firmly pulled him into their huddle.

"Mr. Lip's been explaining accumulators to me," Buccari said, "and why they need to be cleaned. This cavern is one of four accumulator channels. They have closed and drained it so sediment-cleaning teams can clear away rocks, silt, and other debris that have deposited since the last cleaning. All four of the channels are behind schedule for cleaning. Last year's flow was one of the heaviest in their history, and it left behind tremendous amounts of sediment. We are to join one of the cleaning teams, and after we learn the job, we train the rest of our crew and form our own team. It's a big job."

"Sounds like forced labor to me," Petit said.

"We're working for food and shelter," Buccari said. "No one's forcing you to do anything. You can leave anytime you like, Petit."

"Eh, sorry, Lieutenant," Petit replied. "I didn't mean—"

"Yeah, that's okay," Buccari said. "This place gives me the creeps, too." Liquid scraping noises echoed through the dripping, musty cavern.

"We need the work," MacArthur said. "Let's get going."

"Okay, you know how important this is," Buccari said. "We earn our keep, and we have a chance to prove we're not worthless, which our friend tells me is the case right now. Anything beats sitting around on our fannies all winter."

"What do they accumulate in an accumulator channel, Lieutenant?" Shannon asked.

"Energy! Potential energy to be precise," Buccari replied. "River water is diverted into a channel, depending on availability of water and energy needs. Each channel has a series of geared waterwheels used to hoist large weights up vertical distances. The cables suspending these weights can be disengaged from the waterwheels and connected to other drive mechanisms. It's a gigantic mechanical storage battery. These guys are amazing mechanical engineers."

"That must be how they drive the elevators," Hudson said. "Did you see the weights and the gearing systems?"

"Just a peek," Buccari replied. "That's still off limits. Lizard was reluctant to tell me about it. I just kept asking questions until he caved in. So to speak."

MacArthur snorted. "How is it so warm in, uh.. a cave this big?"

"Steam," Buccari said. "They collect steam. Water flowing through the channels is diverted into some sort of magma chamber. This produces gobs of steam which is collected in low-pressure accumulators and released to drive pistons and turbines. A lot of steam backflows into the caverns. Lizard has cautioned me a dozen times on the dangers of steam geysers and scalding water."

"Hot showers, eh? All right!" O'Toole said.

"Yeah, hot! Very, very hot!" Buccari warned.

"Does that mean they have electricity?" Hudson asked.

"Not that I can tell," Buccari answered. "I couldn't explain the concept to Lizard, either. All the steam energy is dissipated mechanically, or used directly as heat."

"What do we use for tools?" Shannon asked.

"Good question. Evidently our tools are waiting for us. Let's go," Buccari replied. "We have to climb to the channel bottom. Be careful. Our friend keeps telling me the work is dangerous, so keep your mouths shut and pay attention."

"Aye, aye, sir!" they shouted in unison.

The winter solstice had arrived. Hundreds of spirit lamps were shrouded with dark blue globes for the occasion; the great assembly hall flickered in yellows and blues. The quiet chittering of the gathered masses lowered abruptly as two hundred votaries, adult females dressed in orange robes, appeared at the entrances and dispersed into the hall, moving slowly about the central podium, lighting more candles. Bool, sitting in the masters' gallery, watched the scintillating patterns, enchanted as any child.

"Toon' s idea has proven excellent," Koop whispered. The facilitator had stopped for a subdued chat with the old steam user. Together, the dwellers watched the multiplying points of light.

"Without question, wise one," Bool responded. "My doubts have been dispelled. After only two moon cycles of instruction the long-legs are twice as productive as an equal number of dwellers, despite inexperience. In another moon cycle they will clear sediment at thrice the rate of our best teams. We are designing special tools to take advantage of their leverage and reach."

"Is it only because they are so strong?" the facilitator asked. "I am told they destroy tools because they wield them with such force."

"Perhaps," Bool responded. "And yet Toon tells me they have brought innovation to the task. We have been doing it the same way for so long that we have stopped looking for other ways. It goes well. Sediment clearing is actually on schedule—a miracle."

"Excellent to hear—sssh! The ceremony is starting. I must take my place. Good year to you and long life." The facilitator moved to his position behind the central podium as high-toned bells rang sharply. The votaries arrayed themselves, and the hall fell silent.

The celebration of the shortest day of the year began with the rhythmic pealing of a single bell—a sweet tone. Then the singing began, distant and muted. Rich harmonies and expansive tonal ranges emanated from the congregated cliff dwellers, their delicate frames physically resonating in the glory of transonic music—a deep, nearly sexual stimulation overwhelming all senses. The procession of choirs commenced. Singing grew in volume and intensity as thousands of females robed in royal blue filed in, stately and erect, moving as slowly as the passage of the stars. Time was not perceived, for the singing was ethereal, and all present prayed it would never end.

Another bell, large and deep-toned, pealed three times; the elders slipped from their perches. A keening rose from the choirs, signaling the arrival of the judges and priestesses—females all,robed in black. The regal entourage moved with dignified yet graceful pace to positions around the great hall. Several mounted the stairs to the central stage. Over half were small—hunter females—including the high priestess, for hunters were the best singers.