Jal sat at the small desk in Sage Elvan’s office. It studied the computer screen and smiled. “What do you have," Sage Evan asked.

“I’ll send it to you.” They looked over the communication from the Foundation Director

“She wants you to serve as the gardener? A paid position?”

“It’s only five hours a week,” Jal pointed out.

“You have a lot of other commitments.”

“You’re right. I don’t need to do this. I can just continue spending time out there like I have been.”

“How much time are you in the garden?”

Jal shrugged. “I’m out there nearly every day for a while.”

“Let’s track it for two weeks. If you’re going to be out there anyway, I don’t have a problem with it.”

That morning, a large delegation from the Peace Foundation gathered in an auditorium of the building. Each person attending, including the apprentices, received training about the upcoming census process. Jal listened intently. It was eager to meet new people and see how they lived.

Sage Elvan’s assignment was to begin at the southernmost edge of Dagmon and work its way north and west. The pair began to go door-to-door. At the first few houses, Sage Elvan identified itself and wrote the residents’ responses to the questions on the census pad. After a day of doing this, the two transported back to Ridali Farm, then returned to Dagmon the following morning. They went from house to house, but no one answered. After two hours of this, Sage Elvan stopped the speeder at the gate of a home.

“You try this one, and I’ll listen.”

Jal went to the door and explained who it was. When it stated that a census was being conducted, the woman began to close the door. “Is there a reason that you don’t want to talk to me?”

“Everybody says that you’ve come to raise the taxes.”

“Who is everybody?”

“The folks down the street.”

“Hm. I wonder why they think that?”

“I’ll tell you what, mister. I’ll answer your questions, and I’ll tell you when you ask a question that might relate to taxes.” Jal went through the questions with her, and she shook her head. “Nothing about taxes in that,” she said. “Why are you doing this?”

“The Protectors want to be certain that everyone is receiving the services they are entitled to.”

“I ain’t getting any services.”

“You’ve got power for your home. You have a communicator so you can receive emergency assistance if you need it.”

“Ain’t got no communicator.”

“Are you certain?”

She raised her voice, “I’ve been living here for years! I’d know if I had a communicator.”

“May I come in for a moment?” Jal entered the dwelling cautiously and glanced around. “Here. You have a communicator.” Jal pressed a button. The screen flashed on. “Do you have any children or grandchildren?”

“Six children and eighteen grandchildren.”

“You might ask one of them to show you how to use the communicator,” Jal suggested. “Thanks for talking with me.”

“You did exactly what I would have done, Jal.” Sage Elvan listened to Jal do two more visits, then suggested that they split up. “You take that side of the street, and I’ll do this one.” The process went smoothly, and when it was time for the noon meal, the two needed to get out of the sun.

They looked over the map of the city. “If we can get the city done this week, maybe the Director will reassign me to my regular duties,” Sage Elvan said hopefully. A week later, they were still not finished, since they had to try again to speak to the people who wouldn’t answer their doors. Another week passed before Sage Elvan returned to Nik. This time, it left Jal home.

When Sage Elvan returned, it was clearly unhappy. “She wants us to continue the census moving north from Dagmon towards Pencadick Rill. This is not what I have been trained for! What a waste of my time!”

‘Master, I thought you liked to learn about how people think.”

“I do! But this is not anything like that. Name, address, and ages. Do you have power, communicator, and access to services? There is no opinion-giving.”

“Can we add questions to the census?”

Sage Elvan looked at Jal. “Like what?”

“Um. Well, let me think about this for a minute.” Several minutes passed. “I have two questions that we could ask. What is something that you worry about regularly? And what is the best thing about living here?”

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Why would you ask those two questions, Jal?”

“We could determine whether the Protectorates are accomplishing their goals of taking good care of the population. We could determine whether the concerns are local issues or world issues. As for the second question, it would help if we walked away from people as they felt good about something. It might not be us, but it would be something.”

“Good job! Those are good questions. I wonder if I should suggest those to the Director?” Jan murmured to itself. “I’ll have to think about that.” After a few minutes, it spoke, “Jal, where are you in the process of your pottery?”

“I’m ready to present my first set of dishes to be evaluated.”

“Really? May I see them?”

“Of course.” In the crafting room, Jal took a tray from a drying rack and set it on the counter. It lifted each item and evaluated the end results, making a collection on the counter. “I will present these.” It went through the second and third trays while Jan examined each piece.

A set of six blue plates with white accents caught Jan's attention. “I really like these! The color is stunning.” It set six matching cups aside.

“What are you doing?” Jal asked, puzzled.

“I get first choice.”

“You get first choice after they have been evaluated. I’ll be sure you get them.”

“Will you have your items displayed and sold at the store in Nik?”

“I could, but I thought I might take them to Tunne de Graf at the General Store in Pencadick Rill. There’s no pottery store in the village.”

“Good thinking.”

Every day the following week, the two continued their job of enumerating the population of Iragos. Workers in the Protectorate Enclave looked at satellite images of buildings and a worker directed their efforts through the countryside north of Dagmon up to Pencadick Rill. They began at the south end of the city. When word came from “On High,” as Jan called it, they added the two questions to their census forms. Things became more interesting, thankfully. Some local issues were brought up, as well as observations from several people about the number of twins and triplets that were being born.

“Another set of twins,” Jal told Sage Elvan as they had the noon meal.

“Really? That’s so odd. I wonder why. I’ve noticed that some people have domesticated wolves at their homes.”

Jal’s eyes were like saucers. “No way! Why would you keep an animal like that? They could kill a child!”

“Most of them are in closed in areas or on chains.”

“They’d better be!”

After lunch, they resumed their efforts and Jal kept an eye open for the domesticated wolves. It was very nervous about any wild animals, especially since the incident with the pyricells.

One day, as it knocked on a door, it was opened by a child of perhaps three years old. An animal barked behind her. “Get back, Chann! She pushed the animal aside. “Can I help you with something?”

“I like to talk with your parent, please.” It took a few minutes before her mother came to the door. “Sit, Chann!” she ordered the wolf. It sat and quieted down. The woman answered Jal’s questions cheerfully. When Jal asked what the best thing was about living where they did, she told it that the wolf was the best thing. “It keeps the rabbits out of the garden, and the snakes away from the children. You can pet her if you like.”

At this, Jal backed away. “No, thanks. I’ll be on my way.”

Several homes in the small village boasted the big animals. Each of them made Jal nervous. As Jal and Sage Elvan went through the village, it recognized several families. Each time Jal told the sage that no one recognized it.

One day, Jal was crossing a street when there was a shout. “Catch that dog! It’s got a chain so you can catch it!” Jal watch a wolf race through the neighborhood.

The wolf passed right in front of Jal, and it jumped backward out of the way of the chaser. The second time the wolf came its way, the wolf didn’t stop. It knocked Jal flat onto its back and began to lick Jal’s face. In a panic. Jal struck out at it. The wolf barked at it, and bit Jal’s hand. “No! No!” Jal’s high-pitched scream brought several people to the street. Someone took hold of the chain and pulled the animal away.

“Are you all right, mister?” the owner, a boy of about five, asked nervously.

“That wolf bit me.”

“You hit her.”

“She’s a wild animal. I should think you would be afraid of her and not want her around.”

The boy apologized and asked if he could help with a bandage. By this time Sage Elvan was at Jal’s side. It had seen most of the incident. “We’ll stop for today, Jal.”

“Are you Jal Jomari?” A woman asked. “I heard what you did in Dagmon! My daughter was terrified to go outside. Thank you so much!” Word spread from house to house that Jal was in the village, and several expressed their thanks to it, saying that they had relatives in Dagmon.

At the north end of the village a few days later, Jal saw a group of wolves headed its way. Jal took out its wand and hoped they would stay away. They didn’t. When they saw Jal, they came straight at it. “Help!” Not knowing what else to do, Jal ran. When the animals seemed to get close, it began to lengthen its stride. Soon Jal was in a full sprint. Sage Elvan stood at the edge of the open field and Jal raced past it yelling, “Do something! Do something!”

On the second pass in front of Sage Elvan, Jal yelled, “Aren’t you going to help me?” It made a third circle and tried to think. Suddenly, Jal made a small circle, pointed its wand at the pack and hollered, “Verwarr!”

The wolves milled around in a circle, confused. Jal was able to count them. Five. Five wolves were running in a pack.

Jal didn’t want them to hurt Sage Elvan and it knew the confound spell would wear off shortly. What should it do?

Fortunately, some of the residents had heard Jal shouting. They called to their animals, who were panting heavily, and the animals responded. The fourth and fifth ones came and sat at Jal’s feet, looking at it. “Go away!” Jal snapped at them. “Go away!”

“They’re mine, mister. I’m sorry.” A man called to the animals. “Tala! Ulf! Come!” He said something to them, and they sat watching as he came to talk to Jal. He apologized, but also told Jal that the animals were having fun chasing it.

“I think they need to find something else to chase,” Jal shook its head. “One thing’s for sure. I’ll write down in Dagmon that I was chased by wolves.”

“Dogs,” the fellow, whose name was Wil, told them. “They are dogs. They are from a line of wolves that have domesticated by a family that lives north of Kop on Trazene. Up there, they’ve been trained to pull sleds in the winter. 'Chukcha,' the owners call them. They’re very friendly and good with children.”

“Ugh,” Jal said aloud without intending to.

“Come and pet one,” Wil invited Jal. Jal declined. “How about you, Sage Elvan?”

Jal watched openmouthed as the sage stepped forward and scratched their heads. “I have heard of Chukchas, but never seen them in action. They are handsome. Come on, Jal.”

Jal shook its head. “No way. I had one of those things knock me down, slobber in my face, have been bitten by one, and now chased by a pack. No, thank you.”

As Jal stalked off, Wil said, “I was watching behind the trees. That was pretty funny. The dogs were having a great time.”

It was a good thing that Jal was on its way to Timke’s, because it didn’t hear Jan. “You don’t know how hard it was not to laugh!”