"Oysters?" I asked, turning one over in my hand.
"Yep. Nice little O. lurida. About three years old, I'd guess, and just ripe for breeding. You know, I've never seen them growing so close to the shore. They must be stacked on top of each other out there a ways. There's probably millions of them in this lagoon alone!"
"Well, we've found where they're coming from. Now all that's left is to figure out what to do about it."
"We'd still better check Beta. They might possibly have reached there."
"Not unless someone's planted them," I said. "You're forgetting the ocean currents."
"No. I was thinking of planted areas."
"Well, think again. You may know your biology, but I know Niobians. They're too suspicious to bring untried things too close to where they live. They've been that way as long as I can remember them, and I don't think that anything—even something as delightful as an oyster—would make them change overnight."
"I hope you're right."
"Oh, we'll check Beta, all right," I said. "But you can send a couple of your boys to do it. There's no sense in our wasting time with it."
I heard the noise behind us before Bergdorf did. We turned in time to see four Niobians emerge from the jungle and glide purposefully toward us. The tribal tattoos on their chests identified them as members of Tovan Harl's commune. I nudged Heinz and murmured, "We've got company."