She led the way out of the clamshells to a waiting closed car. Azor’s sun had an unpleasant bluish cast to it, not a type-G at all; Ross thought that the lighting made the woman look uglier than she really had to be. Even Helena looked pinched and bloodless, which he knew well was not the case at all. All around them was activity. Whatever this planet’s faults, it was not a stagnant home for graybeards. Ross, craning, saw nothing that was shoddy, nothing that would have looked out of place in the best-equipped port of Halsey’s Planet. And the reception lounge, or whatever it was, that the woman took them to was a handsome and prettily furnished construction. “Some lunch?” the woman asked, directing her attention to Helena. “A cup of tribrew, maybe? Let me have the boy bring some.” Helena looked to Ross for signals, and Ross, gritting his teeth, nodded to her to agree. Too young the last time, too male this time; was there ever going to be a planet where he mattered to anyone? He said desperately, “Madam, forgive my interruption, but this lady and myself need urgently to get in touch with the Cavallo company. Is this Novj Grad?” The woman’s pale brows arched. She said, with an effort, “No, it is not.” “Then can you tell us where Novj Grad is?” Ross persisted. “If they have a spaceport, we can hop over there in our ship——” The woman gasped something that sounded like, “Well!” She stood up and said pointedly to Helena, “If you’ll excuse me, I have something to attend to.” And swept out. Helena stared wide-eyed at Ross. “She must’ve been a real Senior Citizen, huh?” “Not exactly,” said Ross despairingly. “Look, Helena, things are different here. I need your help.” “Help?” “Yes, help!” he bellowed. “Get a grip on yourself, girl. Remember what I told you about the planet I came from? It was different from yours, remember? The old people were just like anybody else.” She giggled in embarrassment. “They were!” he yelled. “And they are here, too. Old people, young people, doesn’t matter. On my planet, the richest people were—well, never mind. On this planet, women are the bosses. Get it? Women are like elders. So you’ll have to take over, Helena.” She was looking at him with a puzzled frown. She objected, “But if women are——” “They are. Never mind about that part of it now; just remember that for the purposes of getting along here, you’re going to be my boss. You tell me what to do. You talk to everybody. And what you have to say to them is this: You must get to Novj Grad immediately, and talk to a high-ranking member of the Cavallo Machine-Tool Company. Clear? Once we get there, I’ll take over; everything will be under control then.” He added prayerfully, “I hope.” Helena blinked at him. “I’m going to be your boss?” she asked. “That’s right.” “Like an elder bosses a junior? And it’s legal?” Ross started to repeat, “That’s right,” impatiently again. But there was a peculiar look in Helena’s round eyes. “Helena!” he said warningly.