Thou bought me both shoos and hose;

Although there was no sign or legend on the building to indicate its purpose, Killashandra was not deterred. A locked front door, however, did pose an obstacle. She rapped politely and repeated her knock when it brought no immediate response. Thumping on the door also produced no results, and Killashandra felt determination replace courtesy. Was brewing illegal in Optherias largest city? Or could it be brewing without due license? After all, Bascum originated on Optheria and might have a monopoly. To be sure, she hadnt paid much attention to what plants were being so carefully tended in the gardens. Home industry? Thwarting the ever vigilant and repressive Elders? Quickly she stepped around the building and toward its rear, hoping to find a window. She caught a glimpse of a running juvenile body and heard it raise its voice in warning. So she raced around the corner to find the rear doors folded back on a scene of much industry as men and women supervised the bottling of a brew from an obviously improvised vat. The young messenger took one look at her and fled, ducking down the nearest alley. May a thirsty stranger to this planet have a sample of your brew? Im perishing for lack of a decent glass. Killashandra could, when she exerted herself, be smoothly charming and ingratiating. Shed played the part often enough. She glanced from one stony expression to the next, holding her smile. Ill tell you it was some shock to discover this planet doesnt import anything spirituous or fermented. Shuttle got in yesterday, someone in the group said. Too early for tourists. Those clothes arent local. Nor island. Im not a tourist, Killashandra inserted in the terse comments. Im a musician. Come to see the organ, have you? The mans voice was so rich in contempt, disapproval, cynical skepticism, and malicious amusement that Killashandra tried hard to spot him in the hostile group. If I can judge by my reception above, that sour lot permits few favors. A body really needs a brew here. Again she fortified her smile with winning charm. And licked dry lips. Later, in reviewing the scene at her leisure, Killashandra decided that it might have been that unconscious reflex that won her case. The next thing she knew an uncapped bottle was thrust at her. She reached canon digital rebel beach camera to her belt pouch for the Optherian coins she had acquired on the Athena but was curtly told to leave off. Money didnt buy their brew. Although some had turned back to their job, most watched while she took her first sip. It was rich despite its clandestine manufacture, slightly cool, undoubtedly improved by a proper chilling but superior to the Bascum and almost on a par with Yarran. Your brewmaster wouldnt happen to be of Yarra origin? she asked. What do you know of Yarra? Once again the question was posed anonymously though Killashandra thought the speaker was on her left, near the vat. They make the best beer in the Federated Sentient Planets. Yarran brewmasters have the best reputation in the Galaxy. A rumble of approval greeted this. She could feel the tension ease though the work continued at the same swift pace. Above the rattle of bottles, and the noise of crating the full containers, Killashandra heard a gasping wheeze to her right, on the roadway, and then a dilapidated vehicle, its sides scarred and rusting, pulled up to the open door. Immediately crates were loaded into it, Killashandra helping, for shed finished her bottle and wondered how she could wheedle another, others, from them. Thirst properly quenched, shed find it easier to deal with the reproaches of Thyrol and the others. No sooner had the load bed been filled than the vehicle moved off and another, equally disreputable, slid into its place. Of course this patently unauthorized operation proved conclusively to Killashandra that the population of Optheria had not all stagnated. But how much of a minority did they constitute? And did any of them actually wish to leave Optheria! Some people enjoy thwarting their elected/established/appointed governments out of perversity rather than disloyalty or dislike. When the third transport had been loaded, only a few crates remained. And the vat and its attendant paraphernalia had been dismantled and reassembled in different form entirely. Killashandra gave the brewers full marks for ingenuity. You expect a search? Oh yes. Cant mask brewing completely, you know, said a sun-wrinkled little man with a twinkle in his eye. He offered Killashandra a second bottle, gesturing to the loaded vehicle in explanation of his generosity. As she inadvertently glanced in the same direction, Killashandra