"_ he hesitated, spacing his words as a new thought
struck him _"... the ... Nathians ... were ... nomads."_

* * * * *

Day began early for the Bullones. In spite of its being election day,
Bullone took off for his office an hour after dawn. "See what I mean
about this job owning you?" he asked Orne.

"We're going to take it easy today, Lew," said Diana. She took his hand
as they came up the steps after seeing her father to his limousine
flitter. The sky was cloudless.

Orne felt himself liking her hand in his--liking the feel of it too
much. He withdrew his hand, stood aside, said: "Lead on."

_I've got to watch myself_, he thought. _She's too charming._

"I think a picnic," said Diana. "There's a little lake with grassy banks
off to the west. We'll take viewers and a couple of good novels. This'll
be a do-nothing day."

Orne hesitated. There might be things going on at the house that he
should watch. But no ... if he was right about this situation, then
Diana could be the weak link. Time was closing in on them, too. By
tomorrow the Nathians could have the government completely under
control.

It was warm beside the lake. There were purple and orange flowers above
the grassy bank. Small creatures flitted and cheeped in the brush and
trees. There was a _groomis_ in the reeds at the lower end of the lake,
and every now and then it honked like an old man clearing his throat.

"When we girls were all at home we used to picnic here every Eight-day,"
said Diana. She lay on her back on the groundmat they'd spread. Orne sat
beside her facing the lake. "We made a raft over there on the other
side," she said. She sat up, looked across the lake. "You know, I think
pieces of it are still there. See?" She pointed at a jumble of logs. As
she gestured, her hand brushed Orne's.

Something like an electric shock passed between them. Without knowing
exactly how it happened, Orne found his arms around Diana, their lips
pressed together in a lingering kiss. Panic was very close to the
surface in Orne. He broke away.

"I didn't plan for that to happen," whispered Diana.

"Nor I," muttered Orne. He shook his head. "Sometimes things can get
into an awful mess!"

Diana blinked. "Lew ... don't you ... like me?"

He ignored the monitoring transceiver, spoke his mind. _They'll just
think it's part of the act_, he thought. And the thought was bitter.

"Like you?" he asked. "I think I'm in love wit