ld."

"Let me talk to you first," he said. "I want to...."

"Please," Juba begged, moving toward him. "It is no loss to you. Only
a small favor, to protect our planet from outsiders, in return for ...
for whatever pleasures I can provide for you, or my sisters, if I do
not please you."

"All right," he said, turning to his communication equipment. "If
that's the only way you're going to let me speak to you."

"Your tape," Juba said. "Turn on your tape."

"Tape!"

"I do not speak New-language. I will have to have it translated."

* * * * *

The man looked at Juba hard and worked at the corner of his mouth with
his tongue.

"All right," he said, flipping a switch. He turned to his equipment
and spoke his strange language into it. It was rough and she liked it.

"Now," he began.

"Give me the tape," Juba interrupted.

He jostled a flat box out of the wall, held the tape up to the light
and snapped off a small portion and handed it to Juba.

"Come outside," she said, taking his hand. "My world is more beautiful
than your space ship."

"Can't deny that," he said, watching the branches of the Untouchable
Bush draw away as they walked through it.

"Now," he said, when he was stretched out on the undulant moss. He
felt at the patch of moss sprouting under the warmth of his palm, and
watched while an exploratory tendril curled around his little finger.
"Now--do you know what it is I want of you?"

"I have," Juba said, "some idea." She hadn't known they talked about
it. She thought they just did it.

"Well, you're wrong."

"Oh," she said, and stood up and walked over to the brook so he would
not see her face. For she wondered wherein she was lacking and she was
embarrassed. "Then," she asked, "what _do_ you want of me?"

"There is, as I said, a war on. I am, as I said, a scout. I'm looking
for a communications base halfway between a certain strategic enemy
outpost and a certain strategic allied outpost."

"Why?"

"Why? I don't know why. Does the grain of sand know where the beach
ends? And if I did know, what would it matter?"

"But why _this_ planet? There are other systems. Even other planets in
this system." The moss curled under her feet and pricked at her. She
was not doing this right. What did she care about his war? But she did
not know what to do. She had been prepared for Seduction, Step II, and
had even thought up a few things to say, though conversation is not