Slade chuckled and made up his mind. "Electronic lock. Can work it from a transmitter in the lifeboat; only other way's from inside. Lets down a ladder. Automatic derricks in the side blisters to hoist the lifeboats if, as, and when. They thought of--_nearly_ everything." He hugged the gray-haired woman. "Even briefing on how to get along with each other for ten-plus years." "Learning love can be difficult," said Pakriaa. Dr. Stern stared at the tiny woman with new intentness. Pakriaa's seamed face had taken on its dreamy look. "You must see our island. Last year Mashana Dorothy was Governor of our island. This year it is this man." She touched Elis' knee. "A sinecure," Elis chuckled. "A sinecure, ladies'n' gentlemen." Captain Slade laughed, standing five feet five, peering up at the Governor's eight feet seven--half a head more than Mijok's height. Paul thought he saw there the raw materials of friendship. Dr. Stern said, "And you call this planet Lucifer?" "Light-bringer," said Nisana; there was grief in her face not evident in any of the others. "Son of the morning," Paul moved toward her, wondering. Slade had missed the overtone, and cocked a dark eyebrow. "Industries?" Wright shrugged. "A few, sir. All we seem to need at present in such a small community." "Oh." Slade touched the old man's jacket. "This is fine fabric. I couldn't tell it from linen. Is it?" "Very similar." Wright took Nisana's hand on his palm. "This lady is our best weaver because her hands are so small and sure. Our loom is clumsy because, of course, our metalworking is not far advanced. But it does good work for Nisana." "I like to weave," Nisana whispered, looking here and there and not at Paul. "I like to make new things." Paul glimpsed the twitch of Mijok's ears, the beckoning curve of a gray finger; Mijok whispered, "He's coming, Paul. A few hundred yards away in the woods, breathing hard and limping. Is there nothing we can do for him?" "I don't know, Mijok. I'm afraid whatever is done he must do for himself, and it's late for that, very late." He saw that Mijok was trying to understand and could not. "His mind is--living in another country...." But outwardly at least, Edmund Spearman was changed. He even searched out Dunin's worried face and apologized. "Should have accepted your offer--stupid of me." He smiled. "Wanted to show what a walker I was, I guess." John and David slipped behind Muson's back, tense and cold. Spearman shook Slade's hand, and Dr. Stern's. "My God, it doesn't seem possible. I can't take it in. Slade, you said? And Dr. Stern. We've wondered, dreamed, prayed for it. I can't tell you--I don't know what to say.... Good trip?"