"I tried to give Joan my full attention in those intervening days. We talked, but never mentioning June. I spent time in the garden, and with her goat... hens and dog. She played piano, we listened to Shostakovich, Mahler, Chopin, Beethoven, Brahms, classic jazz and blues, and we played chess. Those days I remember well, because they were the last we spent together, in her country shack. On Wednesday morning she had a call from a hospital in Sydney. Her husband had suffered a heart attack.. Stan, you've just spent more than a month in Khurani. What do you think of what's going on?" Now that you mention it, it does look kind of strange," Stan's deep voice rumbled softly. He scratched at his head of orangered hair that was getting almost long enough to curl down around his shoulders, Gardhe style. "My guess would be that their Dark God is fixing up some new kind of a dirty trick for them to play on us. Like they did with the thought screens, only this time it's almost sure to be. More

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