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She nodded grave agreement.

The general sniffed. “What’s that you two are smoking?”

“Marac leaves,” Clarey said. “A native product. Care to try one?” He extended his pouch to Spano.

“Don’t mind if I do,” the general said, taking a roll. “Which part do you light? And why don’t you offer one to Secretary Vollard?”

“Oh, sorry; I didn’t think of it. The women here don’t use it. Care to try one, Secretary?” As she took a roll, she looked at him searchingly. She was still beautiful in an Amazonian way, but he preferred Embelsira’s way. He could never imagine Han Vollard warm and tender.

“Well, Clarey,” Spano said, “you seem to be doing a splendid job. I’ve been absolutely enthralled by your reports.” He settled himself behind Blynn’s desk. “Pity the information’s top secret. It could make a fortune on the tri-dis.”

Clarey bowed.

“And those musictapes you sent back created quite a stir. We’ve brought along some superior equipment. The rig here is good enough for routine work, but we need better fidelity for this. And it would be appreciated if the colonel didn’t beat time with his foot while you played—no offense, Blynn.”