Apparently, this was going to become a tradition, according to Hruhmuss. Michael was climbing Mt Olympus naked and barefoot. The scientific team that had tried to climb it before had had all-terrain vehicles and pressure suits. They had really just gotten to the vacuum of space when they had been turned back by a party of young Oreni.

Now, incredibly, Michael had been asked to make the climb without a pressure suit, or even a coat.

Since he had been invited, he knew the Oreni would aid him. They had to be doing it already since he wasn't even slightly cold at this high elevation.

His stomach growled. Apparently they didn't plan to feed him.

He had been told that all of the Friends of the Oreni were meeting at the top of the mountain. He didn't know how many there were, but apparently they were also walking up. But he had seen no one else, and he knew there was no other way up. Was he going to be the first one there? Or the last?

He did know it was time to stop and rest for the day.

The end was in sight. The endless curving brown of the trail had given way to something shining up ahead.

The slope was also becoming less steep. Soon he could make out a transparent dome ahead with a number of white things inside. As he got closer, they appeared to be white stone chairs. Eight of them were arranged in a circle, and appeared to be empty.

He walked around the dome, looking for any obvious opening. When he reached the eastern side of the circle, he saw that the western chair was not empty. A little boy sat there. He was so small, his feet stuck straight out in the seat.

"Enter," the little boy said, hopping out of the seat and walking across the dome.

"Michael saw no door. In front of him, several feet away, was the back of one of the white stone chairs. Putting a hand in front of him to feel for the dome surface, he took a few steps forward. He stopped, thinking he should hav felt something by now.

He turned around and saw he was inside the dome. "How did...?"

"Don't know," the boy interupted. "I am Nathan, Michael. Please forgive me for not shaking hands. It could conceivably kill you."

Odd humor, Michael thought. Or maybe not. The boy's face seemed more resigned than anything else.

He was unbeleivably small. He only stood mid-thigh on Michael, who was average height. Michael had never seen anyone past toddler age who was so small. Maybe he had a disease that kept him short. Maybe that's why he didn't want to touch anyone.

But the boy really didn't look ill. He also didn't seem to be a dwarf. Michael had read about and seen pictures of aduklts and children exhibiting dwarfism, but this boy's proportions were not dwarvish. This boy looked like pictures of Earth children, or Deutscherwelt children he had seen in history books. The higher gravity had kept their legs, arms, and torsos shorter than Neuerdic children.

On impulse, he asked "How old are you?"

The boy turned and walked back to his chair saying "Just fine, how are you?"

Had he heard wrong? Then Nathan realised he had answered the boy's greeting with a personal question. "Pardon me. How are you?" he asked.

"I already told you," Nathan said. "Pick a chair that you feel comfortble with. The acoustics are good, so don't let that be a factor."

Nathan went straight to the Northern chair.

"North, is it?" Nathan seemed surprised, though Michael failed to understand why.

"It fits. You were onto something with your age question," Nathan said. He seemed to be putting something off, but finally shrugged and climbed into the chair. Michael tried not to laugh at how undignified Nathan looked facing the chair, gripping its edge, and hopping on his knees before turning around and settling his undersized frame into the seat. It would be cute for a child, but Michael suspected it was annoying for Nathan, who acted much older.

"How old do you think I am, and why?" Nathan asked.

"You appear to have been born on Earth or Deutscherwelt, so..."

"Earth! Give me a break! I may be old, but I'm not fossilized," Nathan retorted. "Have you ever heard of Nathan Klein?"

"Umm," Michael tried to recall. "The name seems familiar, but I don't remember why."

"No one seems to pay attention to the authors of thier textbooks. I wrote your history texts. From personal experience. I was one of the original settlers of Neuerde."

"That would make you..."

"I'm sixty-five."

Michael's jaw dropped.

"Close your mouth or you'll let the flies out," Nathan teased.

"How..."

"You really aught to finish more of your sentences. I have Klein's Disease. I stopped growing 56 years ago, but I have a disease named after me. It's fatal to anyone else. Or any animal else, or any plant else." He stood up in his chair, spread his arms dramatically, and cried in a loud squeeky voice "I am walking death!"

Michael sat quietly, not sure how to react.

"Sorry," Nathan said. "couldn't resist the theatrics. Sometimes sillyness is good medicine. Keeps you from taking yourself too seriously." He sat down, his demeanor as serious as ever.

"Get comfortable in your chair, Michael, and we'll begin your lobotomy," he deadpanned.

"Just had one yesterday, thank you. But a new liver might be fun," Michael replied.

"You'll do," Nathan said. "The Oreni require their friends to have fun."

Michael wasn't sure how to take such an obvious absurdity. "Understood," he winged it. "Fun is mandatory. I will force myself."

There was a pause while Nathan leaned back into his chair, looking at Grossa.

"So are you a friend of the Oreni?" Michael asked.

"Well, I suppose. Thy made me their ambassador when I was a little older than you. You want to get the door?"

"Hmm?" Michael asked, confused.

"Someone is approaching. Go stand at the East and invite them in."

New arrivals and introductions proceeded over the next couple of hours.

When everyone was there, seven of the eight stone seats were filled.

"I know you folks are hungry," Nathan said. "The Oreni are catering this one though, so bare with me." Nathan smiled as if he had some private joke. No one else saw anything humorous. "You youngsters have no sense of humor," he said.

That comment elicited the exchange of puzzled or amused looks. Nathan had not shared his identity with anyone besides Michael. While everyone had been introduced, none seemed to know each other.

"The stars of the show are here," Nathan said. "So if you'll lean back in your seats, we'll get started."

As quick as that, The Faces appeared.

"Welcome friends," First said. "You have earned that title, and we are honored to have you here.

"This is a very special place to us. It is where our young ones ascend to adulthood. Few humans have ever come here, though many of them want to change that.

"You know we opened our coastal areas to your people with the idea of sharing our world. We knew your ancestors did not choose to come this world, so we welcomed them rather than treating them as trespassers.

"We had dealt with humans before. We knew how they multiply rapidly and generally are not very considerate of others.

"The day your ancestors arrived, we began building the continent your people just learned about a few years ago. That continent and its surrounding islands are for your people's use. It will be ready in just a few years."

"You're throwing us out?" The friend in the southern chair asked.

First smiled. "No. We are still willing to share the land, but only with those who agree with our restrictions, which we feel are minimal.

"In fact, a large part of your job as Friend of the Oreni is to convince them to stay. The new land will be very attractive. It was designed for humans, and they will have the sense of being left alone by us."

"Will they be?" asked the occupant of the northeast chair.

"Internally, yes," answered Second. "Externally, we will be," He paused as if searching for the right word. "Smoothing the weather," he concluded.

"I have a dumb question," the friend in the southeastern chair said. "Why can't the Oreni create an ideal place for yourselves?"

"That is difficult to express in words," First answered. "You must understand we are our environment. Our environment is us. In addition, we have a deep dependence on Ghan for our well-being. It is beyond our ability to create what we need anymore than we could create ourselves."

"But you reproduce. You create new Oreni," the southwestern friend said.

"Yes, we reproduce, we do not produce," Third said. "Your bodies can initiate and grow one of your kind, but one of you can not take the raw materials and produce a new human."

The group fell silent.

First spoke again. "A few centuries ago, before Ghan exploded, humans and Oreni lived together on the world you call Grossa. We call it the home world. The Oreni came first, and the humans came later.

"It wasn't long before before the humans had fouled the planet to the point we couldn't live there anymore. Ghan had apparently foreseen this. Long before the humans came, Ghan removed his heart and placed it here. When our world became unsuitable, Ghan invited us here."

"Excuse me," South said during the pause. "You speak of Ghan a lot, in ways that suggest Ghan is tangible and active. I thought Ghan was your name for God - the creator of all."

"Told you," Nathan said aloud, but seemingly to no one in particular.

"Why would you think Ghan was the creator? Ghan no more made us than we made him. Ghan is the world you call Grossa. Ghan's heart is this world. Ghan allows us to live here much like you allow the bacteria to live in your digestive system, or the tiny insects that live on your skin eating the dead cells."

"But Ghan is aware of us and enjoys our company," Second modified.

"One of the reasons we had to accept your presence here was that Ghan had accepted it."

First looked at Third wordlessly, then looked around the group of friends. "Some of us would prefer all the humans to leave. We are trying to follow Ghan's example. Ghan doesn't need us, but we need him. We don't need you, but to live here, you need us.

"Your cousins on Grossa could live without our help easily, but we could not live among them anymore, so we came here. We hope this relationship will work."

"There's humans on Grossa?" Southeast asked. "How are they living on a gas giant, in ships?"

"Things are not always as they seem," First said. "If you could see it the way we see it, you would understand much better."

"Use the dome," Nathan prompted.

First looked at Nathan puzzled, then understood. All of the faces disappeared.

The image of Grossa began to change. "This is Grossa in the infrared," Nathan said. "The cloud layer is actually transparent in the infrared, which allows the sun's heat through. You'll notice a much smaller planet under that cloud mass. It's similar to Earth or Deutscherwelt with a very important distinction. Its surface gravity is five gees."

Someone whistled appreciatively.

"According to Ghoram," Michael offered "Everyone is less than a meter tall, but very stout."

There was a pause.

"Who is Ghoram?" Nathan asked.

Oops. "One of the humans up there," Michael said, pointing at Grossa.

"How do you know that?" First asked. We have felt no unusual connections or energy transfers."

Michael was uncomfortable with the attention. "I don't know. We just think to each other. Somehow." He felt foolish.

"May I examine you physically?" First asked.

"Well, I don't like pain," Michael offered. Again he felt foolish.

"You would not feel anything at all," First said. "However, I want to look inside you, perhaps down to a microscopic level. I do not want to violate your privacy."

"If there's something abnormal, I want to know about it," Michael replied.

"There is," Nathan said. "You are either communicating telepathically, or hallucinating."

"True," Michael replied. "Please check it out," he said to First.

"Already finished. You have a small Ghancrystal in your brain. How did that happen?"

Michael started to say he didn't know, then a vivid memory returned. "When I was little, I stepped on something sharp. I went straight home and asked my mother to pull it out, but she said there was nothing there. For the next several days, I felt it moving up my leg and my back, but my mother told me I was being silly. When the discomfort stopped, I forgot all about it till just now."

Grossa returned to normal appearance, and the faces reappeared. "We have never heard of this before, but perhaps something similar happened to Ghoram."

"We all know the connective properties of Ghanstones," Nathan said. "I'm pretty sure Ghan can easily interface internally with a human. He does it externally with me."

"It is disturbing that Ghan has become secretive in this way," First said.

"He has always been secretive," Michael said. "He's always had Observers."

"This thought just came to you?" First asked.

"Yes, but I know it's true. Ghan has wanted to share Oreni lives as well, but never found a way to do that."

Nathan leaned back fully in his chair and closed his eyes. "He's right," he said after a few seconds. "He's had human Observers since humans first came to this system." After a pause he added "If he'd had malicious intent, you would have known by now."

"True," Second added.

"So this Ghan guy is a friend of the Oreni, and we're friends of the Oreni. Does that mean we'll be friends of Ghan by extension?" South asked.

"We already are," Michael said. "Or at least he is a friend of ours."

"Okay, enough gabbing. Let's eat," Nathan said to the faces. "These kids are being polite, but you know they're starving." To the assembled friends he said "They're decent cooks, for non-corporeal beings."