"And how do you know?" challenged Adina, the woman

Krinata had never exchanged a word with.\

"She's just making that up," claimed Gibson. "Jindigar was practically talking its own language to it. He's been on this planet before!"

"Jindigar was just imitating the creature's call. He's expert at that—it's an Oliat skill, Emulator!"

"If Viradel hadn't o' hit it," said Fenwick, "maybe—"

"Viradel was very courageous," Krinata interrupted him. "She did her best to save the children."

"If anyone, blame Jindigar," suggested Fenwick. "If I had my way, we wouldn't even be in this woods."

She turned and left them to their wrangling. The exchange had left a bad taste in her mouth and a guilt in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps if she hadn't gotten Viradel all upset over Jindigar's leadership, she wouldn't have taken the fruit from the hive-ripper's tree and challenged it.

When she brought the last sled up to the circle of sleds, Jindigar guided it into place, leaving a slender gap for a door. Then he stepped out to stare in the direction the hive-ripper had taken. Krinata leashed back an impulse to seek for that ineffable contact again. Then she squelched an impulse to ask if he could sense Prey. The duad locked her out as firmly as ever, and it was better to leave it that way. But the temptation welled up.

Strangling a sob, she slid down the wall of cargo and huddled with her forehead on her knees, willing herself to be strong until Jindigar went about his business. But he didn't leave. He hunkered down beside her and let the tip of one velvety finger stroke the back of one of her fingers. It was the tiniest gesture, but it undid her. The suppressed tears came. "I'm sorry," she gasped, ashamed.

"We're all very tired—and frightened. Can I help?"

"No." After a time he rose to go. "Jindigar—"

He knelt beside her. "Let me help, as you've helped me so many tunes."

They don't make good friends, huh? "Jindigar, I—I'm not sure I can make myself stay out. I'm so afraid—of

Desdinda, of hurting Frey, but—I could hardly help it!" / He hugged her to his chest as if he could shelter and protect her. "Oh, Krinata, what have I done to you!"

Before she had herself well in hand again, the Lehiroh arrived with Frey—and Allel's body.

The funeral was held in the last light, then the Dushau guided everyone back to the circle of sleds. After the children were sedated and put to sleep, the adults talked bleakly about this world and their future on it.

Jindigar admitted, "I've been here before, yes, as Outreach to Raichmat's Oliat, nearly two thousand years ago. I can't farfetch those memories now. Most of what I know, I'm learning in duad with Frey."

Everyone accepted that excuse for not warning them of the onnoolloo, but Krinata thought, If he can't farfetch two thousand years, he's in worse shape than he lets on. She rolled up in her sleeping bag, dwelling on how he'd shut her out of the triad by shaking her rather than imposing his stone wall between them. She catalogued the signs of fatigue he tried to hide, the worried glances, the increasingly distracted air as he struggled with Prey's skittishness.

She woke in the dark, slim shafts of moonlight lacing the camp. Jindigar was sitting guard duty beside the "door," drawing on the ground in total absorption. It was long before dawn, but she was wide-awake. She opened her bag into a cloak and picked her way through sleepers to him. He'd been sketching weary and bedraggled piols. She touched his arm. "Jindigar, you're not solely responsible for our situation. We all chose to come with you. And now I'm convinced this world is 'marginally livable,' as you said."

"Maybe too marginally. We've lost two people and a sled and are functioning on a crippled duad. We're almost out of water, and the Squadron can't be far behind us now."

"The losses can't be replaced," said Krinata, sitting beside him. "But if we all knew more of this world, perhaps we wouldn't lean on the duad so much."

"I doubt it would be helpful for everyone to know more."

"Keep us in ignorance and Viradel will have good reason for her attitude." And she told him what Viradel had said before picking the fruit. "I wonder what she'd make of that official record I found for this world, which you claimed never existed." She had meant to cheer him up, but suddenly all the unanswered questions swarmed into her mind. The Emperor had accused the Dushau of withholding information on planets to control Allegiancy expansion and prosperity.

He sighed. "It started nearly two thousand years ago, just after humans came onto the galactic scene, and the Allegiancy was founded—" He rubbed out his drawing. "I told you Phanphihy had not been reported–and that was true. The Lehiroh and Treptian Outriders with Raichmat's on that expedition perceived a very different environment than we did. That report was based on their perceptions, not ours, and the planet was labeled with their name, not ours."

"Why?"

"If we'd reported our perceptions, the others would have thought we were lying. Raichmat saw the way the Allegiancy was headed. Dushau needed another home besides Dushaun. But the idea of planting a multispecies colony here governed by a King was not popular on Dushaun, so Phanphihy has been forgotten except among Raichmat's zunre."

The zunre of an Oliat—all who've been members, and their relatives—formed a more tight-knit group than most families. "You could have applied for it. Surely the Emperor would have granted Raichmat's a world."

"If the idea had been more popular, we might have," agreed Jindigar. "But this world is far from ideal for Dushau—and—we tend to be rather conservative."

"But why did other species see it as unlivable?"

"Raichmat's was one of the first Oliats to work for the Allegiancy. We didn't choose our Outriders with such wisdom then. They worked by the book and antagonized the hives, which defend themselves by casting a veil of perceptual distortion—to make enemies see menace where mere isn't much. Our Outriders saw hideous menace everywhere—three quit the profession, one had a nervous breakdown."

She raked her eyes over the black forest around them. "Then this is a very dangerous world! You didn't tell—"

He shook her shoulders. "No! Respect the hives, and they'll be good neighbors. I didn't mention the hives' defense before because we mustn't cripple ourselves with imagined horrors, and your imagination can be very powerful."

She drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I should know better." He was right, it wouldn't help if everyone knew that. "Well, if we must rely on the duad, then we've got to heal the damage I've done you and Frey."

"Frey is—mending."

"He's still sleeping under sedation."

"You are observant."

"Frustrated," she corrected. "Jindigar, what is wrong with Frey?" When Jindigar was silent, she added, "You don't want to talk about it to me?"

"Krinata, his fear of Desdinda is nearly a phobia. Your touch on us when we're working seems like her touch. It happened again this afternoon with the onnoolloo, which is why I ordered the sedative."

"But not for yourself?"

"I'm more experienced—"

"Nonsense! You're suffering as much as he is, but you're afraid if you're both unconscious, I'll take over—like I did with the sandstorm! I'm a walking menace! Why didn't you tell me?"

"You're human. The Loop is functioning in you very much as it would in a Dushau, but there's been no time for tests. A human could react unexpectedly—I can't risk hurting you."

They'd endured Desdinda's death agony, and it had nearly killed them. Frey was right: Jindigar accepted her as zunre and therefore couldn't tolerate hurting her. "Tell me what has to be done. I'll decide what risks I take."