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thing’s supposed to be permanently lubricated, but you know what a tropical climate can do to even the best machinery.”
    “Which is why,” he observed as they stepped out of the shaft into the oppressive heat and humidity, “even supposedly permanently lubricated doors and glides need to be checked as part of a weekly routine.”
    “I agree,” she confessed readily. “And now that you’re here and I’m not expected to do everything myself, you can make that your responsibility, Pulickel. I’m sure you’re
much
better at it than I would be.”
    They made their way toward the skimmer shed, the magnificent bay glistening in the morning sun as if it had been coated with powdered diamond.
    “I think I’ll be able to communicate without any trouble.” At her mild urging he avoided a plant with thorny leaves that was growing over the edge of the path. “For alien vocalizations, the languages of Senisran are fairly simple, and the Parramati dialect seems to present no unique difficulties.”
    “Glad all those recordings I made proved useful. Of course, I could’ve been carrying out routine station maintenance instead.” Entering the shed, she ran a quick checkof skimmer integrity and functions, paying particular attention to the fore intakes, before climbing aboard. Apparently there were some things she was willing to spend the time to maintain.
    Following her on board, he settled himself for the second time into the seat next to the pilot’s chair. This morning’s journey would be less eventful than yesterday’s, he hoped.
    “Where are we headed?”
    She spoke without looking up as she efficiently checked readouts and instrumentation. “Northwest coast. The skimmer’s only practical for overwater travel. Rest of the island is too rugged. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to walk the trail to the main village, but this’ll get us there in a couple of minutes.” On a rising whine, the sturdy craft rose a meter into the air and backed out of the shed.
    “The locals like to see me arrive by skimmer. They already know how to walk.”
    “How do they react?” he asked. “Are they awed, curious, indifferent, what?”
    “Straightforwardly accepting, mostly. It didn’t take them long to get used to it. They call it the boat that flies on air, which is pretty direct. I think the absence of outriggers surprises them more than anything else.”
    He settled himself back into the seat. “I’m looking forward to meeting the local chief, this being the dominant island in the archipelago.” He smiled. “I’m sure the AAnn weren’t happy about the Commonwealth setting up a station here first.”
    She shrugged. “They seem to be perfectly happy on Mallatyah. That’s the second-largest inhabited island in the group. They’re doing a good job of extending their influence from there.”
    Pulickel was mildly alarmed. “I’ve been wondering whatkind of progress they’ve been making. How are you doing with the Torrelauans?”
    “As well, or as bad. It’s hard to tell. As you know from your preparations, the Parramati aren’t like any other society on Senisran.” The skimmer crossed the beach and entered the bay. “They’re special. Special unique or special frustrating, take your pick.”
    Wind began to ruffle his hair. “I’m sure as soon as I get to know the chief, we’ll make some serious headway.”
    She adjusted several controls, preferring manual to vorec operation. The engine whined responsively and the skimmer accelerated. He frowned at her.
    “What’re you laughing at?”
    She stopped chuckling. “If you wanted to speak to the chief on any other island group, there wouldn’t be a problem. But you can’t do that on Parramat.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because the Parramati are different. As you’ll find out. It’s why I’ve stayed here, by myself. See, there
are
things that interest me besides lounging around, cultivating native flowers, and sampling the local foodstuffs.”
    “I didn’t