I am not yet falling,” admitted Haviland Tuf.“Can you truly help us?” asked the round-faced woman at Namor Control.“Why must I always be doubted?” Tuf asked the small grey kitten.“Lord Guardian, we must give him the chance to prove what he says,” insisted Namor Control.Tuf looked up

Here I sit in an illusion. No doubt, now that you have told me my ship does not exist, I shall sink right through it and plunge into your atmosphere, where I shall burn up as I fall.”“Guardian,” said Kefira Qay from the Sunrazor, “these seedships may indeed no longer exist, but I am fast closing on something that my scopes

trader I have ever seen, Ark. Explain yourself or be fired upon.”“Indeed,” said Haviland Tuf. “Threats will avail you little, Guardian. I am most sorely vexed. I have come all this long way from Braelourn to offer you my aid and solace, and you meet me with threats and hostility.” A kitten leapt up into his lap. Tuf scooped it up with a huge white hand, and deposited it on the console in front of him, where the viewer would pick it up.

I learned of your tragic difficulties, and moved by your plight, I have come to offer you my services.”The woman on the ship looked startled. “What are you . . .” she started. The man was equally nonplussed, but he said nothing, only gaped open-mouthed at Tuf’s blank white visage.