"Hello, Trader Man," she answered in Interlingua shrill and sibilant. She was two-thirds Thorby's height, on four legs with forelimbs elevated -- the baby had been on all six. Both were sleek and pretty and sharp-eyed. Thorby was amused by them and only slightly put off by the double mouth arrangement -- one for eating, one for breathing and talking.

Captain Krausa continued talking. "That was a nice run you made on that Losian craft."

Thorby blushed. "You knew about that, Father?"

"What kind of a captain am I if I don't? Oh, I know what's worrying you. Forget it. If I give you a target, you burn it. It's up to me to kill your circuits if we make friendly identification. If I slap the God-be-thanked switch, you can't get your computer to fire, the bombs are disarmed, the launching gear is locked, the Chief can't move the suicide switch. So even if you hear me call off the action -- or you get excited and don't hear -- it doesn't matter. Finish your run; it's good practice."

"Oh. I didn't know, Father."

"Didn't Jeri tell you? You must have noticed the switch; it's the big red one, under my right hand."

"Uh, I've never been in the Control Room, Father."

"Eh? I must correct that; it might belong to you someday. Remind me... right after we go irrational."

"I will, Father." Thorby was pleased at the prospect of entering the mysterious shrine -- he was sure that half of his relatives had never visited it -- but he was surprised at the comment. Could a former fraki be eligible for command? It was legal for an adopted son to succeed to the worry seat; sometimes captains had no sons of their own. But an ex-fraki?

Captain Krausa was saying, "I haven't given you the attention I should, Son... not the care I should give Baslim's son. But it's a big family and my time is so taken up. Are they treating you all right?"

"Why, sure, Father!"

"Mmm... glad to hear it. It's -- well, you weren't born among the People, you know."

"I know. But everybody has treated me fine."

"Good. I've had good reports about you. You seem to learn fast, for a -- you learn fast."

Thorby sourly finished the phrase in his mind. The Captain went on, "Have you been in the Power Room?"

"No, sir. Just the practice room once."

"Now is a good time, while we're grounded. It's safer and the prayers and cleansing aren't so lengthy." Krausa paused. "No, well wait until your status is clear -- the Chief is hinting that you are material for his department. He has some silly idea that you will never have children anyway and he might regard a visit as an opportunity to snag you. Engineers!"

Thorby understood this speech, even the last word. Engineers were regarded as slightly balmy; it was commonly believed that radiations from the artificial star that gave Sisu her life ionized their brain tissues. True or not, engineers could get away with outrageous breeches of etiquette -- "not guilty by reason of insanity" was an unspoken defense for them once they had been repeatedly exposed to the hazards of their trade. The Chief Engineer even talked back to Grandmother.

But junior engineers were not allowed to stand power room watches until they no longer expected to have children; they took care of auxiliary machinery and stood training watches in a dummy power room. The People were cautious about harmful mutations, because they were more exposed to radiation hazards than were planet dwellers. One never saw overt mutation among them; what happened to babies distorted at birth was a mystery so taboo that Thorby was not even aware of it; he simply knew that power watchstanders were old men.

Nor was he interested in progeny; he simply saw in the Captain's remarks a hint that the Chief Engineer considered that Thorby could reach the exalted status of power watchstander quickly. The idea dazzled him. The men who wrestled with the mad gods of nuclear physics held status just below astrogators... and, in their own opinion, higher. Their opinion was closer to fact than was the official one; even a deputy captain who attempted to pull rank on a man standing power room watches was likely to wind up counting stores while the engineer rested in sick bay, then went back to doing as he pleased. Was it possible that an ex-fraki could aspire to such heights? Perhaps someday be Chief Engineer and sass the Chief Officer with impunity? "Father," Thorby said eagerly, "the Chief Engineer thinks I can learn power room rituals?"

"Wasn't that what I said?"

"Yes, sir. Uh... I wonder why he thought so?"

"Are you dense? Or unusually modest? Any man who can handle firecontrol mathematics can learn nuclear engineering. But he can learn astrogation, too, which is just as important."

Engineers never handled cargo; the only work they did in port was to load tritium and deuterium, or other tasks strictly theirs. They did no housekeeping. They... "Father? I think I might like to be an engineer."

"So? Well, now that you've thought so, forget it."

"But --"

" 'But' what?"

"Nothing, sir. Yes, sir."

Krausa sighed. "Son, I have obligations toward you; I'm carrying them out as best I can." Krausa thought over what he could tell the lad. Mother had pointed out that if Baslim had wanted the boy to know the message he had carried, Baslim would have put it in Interlingua. On the other hand, since the boy now knew the Family language perhaps he had translated it himself. No, more likely he had forgotten it. "Thorby, do you know who your family is?"

Thorby was startled. "Sir? My family is Sisu"

"Certainly! I mean your family before that."

"You mean Pop? Baslim the Cripple?"

"No, no! He was your foster father, just as I am now. Do you know what family you were born in?"

Thorby said bleakly, "I don't think I had one."

Krausa realized that he had poked a scar, said hastily, "Now, Son, you don't have to copy all the attitudes of your messmates. Why, if it weren't for fraki, with whom would we trade? How would the People live? A man is fortunate to be born People, but there is nothing to be ashamed of in being born fraki. Every atom has its purpose."

"I'm not ashamed!"

"Take it easy!"

"Sorry sir. I'm not ashamed of my ancestors. I simply don't know who they were. Why, for all I know, they may have been People."

Krausa was startled. "Why, so they could have been," he said slowly. Most slaves were purchased on planets that respectable traders never visited, or were born on estates of their owners... but a tragic percentage were People, stolen by raiders. This lad -- Had any ship of the People been lost around the necessary time? He wondered if, at the next Gathering, he might dig up identification from the Commodore's files?

But even that would not exhaust the possibilities; some chief officers were sloppy about sending in identifications at birth, some waited until a Gathering. Mother, now, never grudged the expense of a long n-space message; she wanted her children on record at once -- Sisu was never slack.

Suppose the boy were born People and his record had never reached the Commodore? How unfair to lose his birthright!

A thought tip-toed through his brain: a slip could be corrected in more ways than one. If any Free Ship had been lost -- He could not remember.

Nor could he talk about it. But what a wonderful thing to give the lad an ancestry! If he could...

He changed the subject "In a way, lad, you were always of the People."

"Huh? Excuse me, Father?"

Son, Baslim the Cripple was an honorary member of the People."

"What? How, Father? What ship?"

"All ships. He was elected at a Gathering. Son, a long time ago a shameful thing happened. Baslim corrected it. It put all the People in debt to him. I have said enough. Tell me, have you thought of getting married?"

Marriage was the last thing on Thorby's mind; he was blazing anxious to hear more about what Pop had done that had made him incredibly one of the People. But he recognized the warning with which an elder closed a taboo subject.