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had to make the choice that was best for him.”

Over his shoulder I noticed a group of his countrymen walking towards us with purpose, and huge smiles fixed on their faces. “Oh, look,” Bunny pointed. “A welcoming committee.”

The resemblance of Wuhses to sheep was very strong as their slitted eyes were fixed upon Wensley, or more specif?ically, upon the D-​hopper in his hand.

Wensley blanched. “Oh! Come with me, please,” he brayed, his voice down to a strangled squawk. “I have so much more to show you.” Without looking back he started walking. We followed, but found ourselves having to in?crease our pace from an amble to a trot. Without breaking into a run, Wensley managed to open his stride until I was running to keep up with him. “Over here you see the baker's. Very fine breads, Cashel makes. Very fine! And there's the vintner's. And the healer's. Very useful after you've been at the vintner's.”

“Wensley!” one of the big females in the lead hailed him. We could understand her easily because of the trans?lator pendants we were all wearing. They assisted in help?ing us to comprehend nuance and emotional content as well, though I had no difficulty telling the state of the fe?male coming toward us. She had a broad smile on her face, but even at a backwards glance I could tell it looked forced. “How nice to see you! Come and chat for a while. I'd just love to catch up with you.”

“And so would I!” insisted a slenderer wench, edging

around the matron and pumping her elbows so she picked up just a hint of speed. “I've been thinking about you! I've wondered how you are!”

“We've all been thinking about you!” called a male with gray curls.

Looking panicked, our guide pulled us hastily around a corner to the left, then dodged right, so we were heading into the thick of the city along a much narrower street. The balconies almost touched overhead, letting in only a slit of sky. Unfortunately, another group of Wuhses had also taken this less-​traveled road, probably with the notion of heading Wensley off, to speak to him about his “well-​being.”

“You've been such a stranger, Wensley,” a big male ex?claimed heartily, his arms wide open. There was no getting past him.

“Yii,” Wensley bleated, in shock, then turned us around.

The first group had not been fooled for long by our de?tour. There they were, still power-​walking towards us as quickly as they could. They saw the other group, and in?creased their speed to get to us first. We were trapped in be?tween. I braced myself, as all the Wuhses descended on us, smiling and slapping our backs, all of them clamoring that they had no other reason for seeing our guide except to pass the time of day with him.

“And who are your friends, Wensley?” asked a young male about my age. “They're from out of town, eh?” He reached around to shake hands with me. As soon as I re?laxed my grip, his hand dropped, seemingly of its own ac?cord, onto the D-​hopper in Wensley's. “Say, isn't that the community travel wand? I've wanted to get a good look at it for ages!”

“So would I!” a dark-​fleeced female announced. “My goodness, let me see it. Please!” The D-​hopper became the object of a three-​way tug of war, with the youth on one side, the black sheep on the other, and Wensley holding onto the device in the center with both hands.

“Please be careful,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “I might lose my grip on it, and who knows what would happen?”

It didn't take a genius to figure out just what would hap?pen: the winner of the contest of wills would take the D-​hopper and pop off to another dimension.

“Well, just let me see it a moment,” the female insisted, holding on with determination.

“I... did you meet my guests?” Wensley sibberred, desperately. “I brought them here with the wand. I will have to take them back again this evening. Yes! This eve?ning! Possibly earlier. So, you see, I can't let go of it for now. I'm devastated not to be able to oblige you ... ungh!” he grunted. With one tremendous effort he pried the D-​hopper out of their grasp and clutched it to his chest with both hands. “... But perhaps later? Just a little.”

The crowd looked as though they wanted to glare, but they glanced at one another out of the corner of their odd-​pupiled eyes, and decided to paste on the big smiles instead.

“Of course we understand,” the big, hearty male trum?peted. “So these are your guests? Welcome, welcome! You must have a tour of our beautiful city, and then dine with us. We must help Wensley shoulder the onus of hospitality. Believe me,” he added, bowing to the women, “it is our great pleasure. Ladies, I am Gubbeen, committeefriend of the Committee of Public Safety.”

“Committeefriend?” I asked, glancing at Wensley.

“It means, 'spokesperson among equals,'” our guide explained. “Gubbeen is taking his turn on behalf of the Safety organization that has done such an excellent job at making sure there are always handrails on stairs, and that bridges are safe and not slippery. You know.”

I nodded. They did not even have the guts to risk of?fending the rest of the committee members by calling him the chairman. It had to have been the easiest thing ever for the Pervects to take over their

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