Dear God, help him! Her throat was dry, but she forced words out, "The Emperor sent me because this Dushau has debriefed to me on occasion. He knows me, and might be less inclined to do me violence."

"Ah, I see His great wisdom now," said the Camidan director. "We have been his enemies, and he has hardened to resist us. But you can pretend to be his friend, and record hisconfession!"

"Careful!" said the Holot. "He might hear you now."

Krinata seized on the unwitting director's suggestion. "Let me get in there," she said, pushing through the swarm of attendants—Cassrians, Treptians and Lehiroh.

When Jindigar groaned, she grabbed his hand, her face filling his view. "Jindigar!" she called gently, letting all her feelings come through, knowing they'd think her a consummate actress, hoping Jindigar would know the truth through her touch. "Jindigar! Wake up."

Midnight eyes flickered open. From such close range, she could see the fine filaments patterning the eyeball. No pupil and iris, but a swirling field of indigo and purple. As he brought focus to bear on her, the filaments widened. He stiffened, as if to shove away a nightmare creature, then his lips parted, trembling in pitiful hope. "Ontarrah!"

Before she could correct him, he pushed her away and twisted to curl on his side. "No!"

She heard her own voice say, "He's starting to go episodic!" The voice came from her leptolizer. It was Arlai, prompting her. Ontarrah must have been someone Jindigar once knew. She didn't know what to do, but she did remember that when he'd been disoriented before, it had helped him to hold onto her. She stripped the sensor contacts from his wrist, and pulled him back across the gurney. "Jindigar. It's me, Krinata. Pull yourself together." She told him the year, reminded him he'd just returned with the remnants of Kamminth's from Margo's planet, and now he was the only survivor. "We've got to debrief now. You can rest later."

She sensed the tense vibration m his muscles again. It tore her heart to do this to him, but now that she'd seen what they'd done to him, she believed the Emperor planned a public humiliation and execution for Prince Jindigar.

"Jindigar! Jindigar!" she pleaded, putting all herself behind it.

A wild fear suffused the Dushau's features, twisting them as if he were looking into a pit of horrors. But then he seemed to scent Krinata's odor, sniffed again with eyes closed, supreme effort in the set of his brow.

Like a drowning man who sights a floating spar, he grabbed weakly at Krinata, gripping her as he had in the robing chamber, his breath barely able to work through his tightened throat. She listened to that rasping sound, wanting to sob, knowing she couldn't afford the luxury now. Instead, she aimed a secret smile over Jindigar's head at the Director who had circled the gurney, watching her admiringly.

She motioned the attendants away, hoping the Camidan would think she didn't want Jindigar associating her with his enemies. The director seemed to catch the idea and silently cleared the area. She urged Jindigar to sit up on the side of the gurney. He was dressed in standard-issue hospital gown, with a slit down the back, feet bare. She had no cloak to throw about him.

He seemed to be fighting his way to rationality now, clutching her hand for dear life. Occasionally, his eyes would roll about, as if focused on looming horrors. But then he'd drag himself back from the abyss by holding to her. At one such lucid moment, she took the risk of whispering, "Arlai's sending one of his landers here." Then aloud, she asked, "Can you walk? I'll get you the robes your rank demands, Prince Jindigar."

The Camidan grinned broadly, revealing needle teeth and three flickering tongues. But he held silence as Krinata urged Jindigar off the gurney onto the cold textured rancestone floor. Its magenta and rose swirls blended oddly with Jindigar's nail-less, long-toed indigo feet. Jindigar flexed those feet, testing his balance. Then, still clutching Krinata's arm, he lurched toward the door.

He was hard as stone with inward tremors, but his mouth tightened to a thin line as he faced his ordeal. Krinata could imagine how the door must seem a day's journey away down a darkening tunnel. Every few steps, he whispered apologies for his weakness.

Then they were on the well-manicured path across the lawn. A dozen steps and a flutter of movement caught Krinata's eye. Imp streaked across the field and swarmed up Jindigar's gown, attaching himself to the Dushau's chest and mewling in loud relief.

Jindigar cradled the piol with one arm, nuzzling his head. It seemed the piol lent strength to his protector's legs, for Jindigar straightened and managed a semblance of a march out onto the field. Perhaps the piol distinguished this episode of the Dushau's life from all others, preventing random hallucinatory memories from crowding out the present.

Amid the constant dull roar of upper-atmosphere traffic, a waxing sound dopplered toward them. Jindigar pointed to its source, and whispered, "There! Depend on Arlai!"

Over the horizon swept a needle-slim ground-to-orbit craft. / can't believe we're going to make it.

The craft came to a full-stop just above them, and settled neatly with its door easing open to form a ramp at their feet. Arlai was indeed as good as his brag.

Ithrenth said, "An antique if I ever saw one."

"Reconditioned," ad-libbed Krinata. "Just impressed into the imperial service." The craft carried the Dushau rotating mobius-strip emblem, and some name in Dushauni lettering. "Haven't had a chance to change the emblem yet."

"Of course. There must be thousands of such ships confiscated now."

"Hundreds of thousands," said Krinata knowledgeably. Jindigar remained grimly silent, leaning on Krinata as he worked his way toward the ramp.

"No doubt." The director unlimbered his leptolizer from a belt hook under his robe. "Now then," he started, and Krinata's breath caught in her throat.

/ knew it couldn't be that easy.

"As soon as we complete the formalities, the Dushau is your responsibility."

"Certainly," said Krinata, running dry tongue over even drier lips. She shifted Jindigar's grip to her shoulder, her light-case to her left hand, and proffered her right hand.

Ithrenth put the business end of his leptolizer against her fingers, gripping his end with his long, many jointed, shell protected fingers. "I, Ithrenthumarian, Director of Onerir General Hospital, by order of Emperor Rantan, do hereby transfer custody of Prince Jindigar—something unpronounceable—of Dushaun to the Lady Krinata Zavaronne of Pesht: Sign; Seal; Date: Place."

"I, Krinata Zavaronne, do accept custody of Prince Jindigar whatever, on behalf of the Allegiancy and all those loyal to it." She gulped, waiting for horrid lights to flash and sirens to howl.

But apparently-the hospital's Sentient accepted her version of the formality despite not mentioning the Emperor. But she knew if she'd said 'by order of the Emperor' the leptolizer would have reported she was lying.

Then, miraculously, they were marching up Arlai's ramp and Ithrenth had turned his back and walked away.

Just as they cleared the inner airlock, Jindigar collapsed to the soft-textured deck, his fingers raking that familiar surface as if he could gather it up and hug it. Krinata felt the slight vibration of takeoff. Then Arlai said, his Dushau image holo'd before Jindigar. "We're safely away. I've stalled off the Onerir Control's reprogrammers. Jindigar, you'll be onboard in just a few minutes."

But all Jindigar could say was, "Oh, Arlai, Arlai!"

Imp licked Jindigar's indigo plush face, imitating the Dushau’s plaintive tone. Krinata asked, "Arlai, do you have a telemband aboard this lander?"