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would be Choice for some dignitary& somewhere.
He watched in grim silence while Nashmar fought a hotly contested battle for
the last three men, who appeared to be brothers. They were tall, superbly
muscled Gens with hatred in their cold blue eyes.
Every time Nashmar's opponent raised the bid, Klyd muttered a string of
imaginative maledictions that amazed Valleroy in their scope and depth. There
came a long pause after the last such raise while the auctioneer called for
further bids. Nashmar sat silently, lips compressed.
Valleroy said, "What's the matter?"
"That's Tyte Narvoon bidding against Nashmar," said Klyd, as if that
explained everything.
Valleroy twisted around to take another look at the opposition. The
auctioneer had attempted to speed the bidding by offering the lot of three
together, but this man was blocking the effort. "He looks frightening but what
makes him different from anybody else?"
Klyd favored Valleroy with a sharp glance, seeming to consider the wisdom of
explaining. Then he gave an almost imperceptible shrug. "I guess you're an
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adult even by Gen standards." He looked toward Nashmar. "Narvoon is what I
would term a real pervert, but I don't know the English word for it. He
prefers men instead of women. Nobody would mind except that he buys Gens for
his purposes. The kill is one thing, legalized torture is something else.
Haven't you noticed that even the nonbuyers have been bidding against him all
afternoon?"
Valleroy looked around at the others in the audience, most ofwhom had come
for the show rather than to buy. It seemed they agreed with Klyd. "I
suppose,"said Valleroy scathingly, "you don't get people like him in the
Householdings?"
"It's extremely rare among Simes. Narvoon is from out-Territory originally.
I'm told he had a particularly hard time of it, and he was warped by the
experience. Some say he hates himself for being Sime, and can't stand the
thought of having children. Others say this is his way of committing suicide,
andit's working. I don't know, but he certainly isn't well."
Valleroy looked again at Narvoon, seated a little apart from the others
around him. He was a veritable skeleton of a man, with sunken cheeks and
hollows at the temples that gave him a death's-head aspect. When Valleroy
looked back at Klyd, he found the channel exchanging signals with Nashmar
under cover of his cloak. Nashmar nodded and signaled the auctioneer a double
raise.
Narvoon rose jerkily and stalked out of the amphitheater, cloak flying behind
him like bat wings. There was a stirring among the rest of the audience that
Valleroy interpreted as a surprised approval of the Householding's move.
Evidently, Nashmar gained some public sympathy for the Tecton along with three
raw recruits.
But to Valleroy it was a chill victory. From a grand total of thirty-six Gens
auctioned, only seven had gone to the Householdings.
The crowd's buzzing rose to a full crescendo as groups formed and drifted
toward the exits. Numb with the realization that it was really over, and Aisha
was still missing, Valleroy sat staring at the empty stage. Around him, the
Householders began to gravitate toward Klyd, forcing Valleroy to resume the
role of Companion.
He watched Klyd pass something to Nashmar. It looked like a small purse, but
Valleroy wasn't given a chance to ask. One of the other channels, wearing a
cinnamon brown livery, greeted Klyd expansively and then said, "You surprise
me! Not one purchase for Zeor? Was the grain harvest so poor?"
Chuckling, Klyd introduced Valleroy, saying, "The harvest is ample this year,
Siml, but Zeor is Gen-high at the moment."
"Then what brings you to Iburan?" asked one of the Companions.
"The pendulum always swings. A talented Gen must be retained against the day
of need."
"Aha!" exclaimed the Companion, grinning. "Wife-huntingare you?"
"Must I answer that?" said Klyd.
"No," said Nashmar reasonably, "but answer me this. What is this great talent
that must be retained?"
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"Such talent cannot be described in words, my dear friend. But you shall see
with your own eyes at Arensti."
"Zeor plans to win again this year?"
"No way we can avoid it," declared the channel.
The glances that were exchanged after that solemn pledge left no doubt in
Valleroy's mind about the high position of Zeor in the Tecton.
"Naztehr," Nashmar said to Valleroy, "you are a designer?"
"And artist, Sectuib."
"But you are Zeor's Arensti Designer?"
"Zeor has so honored me."
The looks of pure respect that that earned Valleroy gave him a little shock.
If he'd known the degree of confidence Zeor had placed in him, he might have
refused to try. In fact, at that moment, he suddenly felt like withdrawing his
design, afraid it would tarnish Zeor's illustrious reputation.
But he wasn't given time to think about it. Nashmar drew Klyd to one side as
the company began to disperse. "House of Imil would like to submit a
proposition for Zeor's consideration."
"Zeor listens," said Klyd formally.
Taking his cue from Nashmar's Companion, Valleroy assumed a station to one
side and slightly behind the channels. He listened quietly to the
conversation, straining his brain to infer the gaps in his vocabulary.
"Imil requires the services of an exceptional artist to do the catalog for
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