"I don't like it at all," the tall thin man said. His name was Tharn, and he was known throughout the sprawling colony for the high-strung nervousness that was understandable enough in a youth of fifty, but hardly normal for a man of his years. You had to be careful how you talked to Tharn, even if you were Angelo, Dean of Masters, himself. "I don't like it," Tharn reiterated, with another dramatic sweep of his long bony arm, "one bit, Angelo. Look at them, circling up there." The thin, lined fa