When Jindigar arrived at the Outriders' barracks, all doors were closed against the evening chill, and smoke was flowing aromatically from the chimneys. Without trying he knew she was in Cyrus's room—alone with him. As he hesitated, aware that she knew he was here, Storm's door opened, and one of Storm's co-husbands, Ruff, heaved a basin of wash water out to the side of the building. A baby fretted within, then quieted.

As he turned to go back inside Ruff noticed Jindigar and froze. Then he poked his head in and whispered, "Storm, it's Jindigar!" He came out onto the porch, easing the door shut behind him, then waited for Jindigar to speak.

"Don't disturb Storm," said Jindigar, knowing he was nursing his baby. "I have to see Krinata."

"She's—" Ruff's gaze went to Cyrus's door.

"I know. I'll wait."

"Oh." Ruff had never been voluble. He, as Storm's other co-husbands, Pece and Tallar, always had Storm do the talking. Now he said only, "We're here if you need us."

"Tell Storm we aren't—able—to deal with the community. Terab should be informed—we have survived, but we can't work."

Ruff answered, "I'll tell him." Then he was gone.

Jindigar drifted along the porch and leaned against one of the poles. Cy's voice was raised in annoyance at Krinata for offhandedly using a Dushaun expression, shaleiliu. Her higher pitched voice came through clearly, explaining that she'd only meant "very good," or "all right." But Cy was in no mood for a language lesson.

At last he shouted, "I can't deal with you!" He ripped open the door and stalked out onto the porch, fairly vibrating with unreleasable energies. Krinata caught the door before it crashed into the wall. Cyrus spotted Jindigar and straightened, tugging his dull green field tunic into place, his bare forearms showing bandages to match Krinata's, though he wore them as if they were the heavy gold armlets of rank bestowed by the Emperor. "Did you need us?"

Jindigar reassured him, relieved at how easily the words came this time. "No, I must speak to Krinata—"

"Cy hasn't touched—" she started, defensive.

"I know," Jindigar said, forestalling her. He'd have known if the Outrider had made any advances toward her.

Jindigar admired Cyrus—easily a mate for Krinata. He smiled, his best human imitation, and told him, "As Center, I must apologize for letting my Oliat eavesdrop on you and Storm earlier."

"Forget it. Krinata already explained."

"Then let us assume it never happened." Jindigar was carefully formal, for he had known Cyrus only a year, and sexual jealousy wore many guises among different cultures. Possibly Cyrus didn't even know what was eroding his temper. "But may we address the issues raised by the incident?"

Embarrassed, Cyrus gnawed a lip. "It's not necessary—but come in if you like. It's chilly out here, and dark."

"Thank you," replied Jindigar, and followed them inside.

The room was a duplicate of Storm's, except that it had only one window. It was on the rear wall opposite the door and had a view of the compound's palisade but was shuttered now. A merry fire burned in the corner fireplace next to it. There was a rough-hewn table and chairs, a bed and washstand, and a curtained shelf for storage. On top of the shelf lay a reader with a large stack of cartridges. Empty cups stood on the table amid the remains of a light meal.

There was a hint of an offhanded, courtly manner in Cyrus's movements as he offered Jindigar a seat, then busily lit a few more candles to aid Dushau vision. "Would you like something to eat?" he asked, gathering the litter.

"No, thank you. I've actually come here to ask Krinata to risk her life—again. But before I do that—I believe I owe you—" He shrugged, portraying his helplessness, keeping his attention on Cyrus while Krinata settled warily into another chair at the table. "I owe you an explanation."

Cyrus turned a chair and straddled it as a Holot might.

"Look, if anything, I owe you an apology." His gaze raked Krinata in the forbidden intimacy he could not resist, and suddenly Jindigar knew that the Outrider was not fully aware of what was driving him.

Jindigar focused strictly on Cyrus, Emulating him lightly to pick up the nuances. The lives of his officers depended on this one human. Consciously Cyrus understood that he must not arouse Krinata in Oliat. But his eyes revealed an unconscious, confused and hurt, compulsively reaching for her, only to be rebuffed in favor of a man who could only use her ruthlessly.

Krinata's lips tensed, betraying her inner struggle. Torn apart by the pain she was causing Cyrus, how could she possibly bring them through the debriefing alive? Jindigar had to soothe Cyrus's unconscious to alleviate Krinata's pain and let her concentrate.

Cyrus's unconscious had to know that Jindigar did not regard Krinata as just an ephemeral—trivial and peripheral to his life—but that she mattered to him as a person. Even ephemeral Outriders had only been allowed to know Dushau who were between Renewals, so while they had been told it was different during Renewal, they believed Dushau incapable of personal relationships. Cyrus had to learn otherwise—and quickly. He had to learn on a nonverbal level that Krinata was not rebuffing him but only delaying, and that Jindigar loved Krinata so much, he wanted her to have a proper mate.

Jindigar told him, "You owe me no apology for your feeling for Krinata. It is a beautiful thing, an expression of life. It is how I feel about Darllanyu. And she about me. Neither of us would look at another—in such fashion."

"See? I knew that. So I owe you an apology."

"On the contrary," countered Jindigar quickly. "What is between Krinata and me—" He had to meet her eyes now, wishing he had the Oliat link to reassure her. "We are more than zunre. Arid there is a threat there."

She paled. Cyrus choked, unbelievingly, "Are you trying to tell me you love Krinata?"

Jindigar smiled again, hoping his teeth hadn't turned as pale as he felt them to be. "I love all my zunre—and my Outriders as well. Cy, you are as special to me as Krinata is. And more– for you are special to Krinata. It takes more than love to make a mating. Krinata can't be mate to me, nor I to her." It was true. The particular awakening that came to him with Dar's touch was not there with Krinata. Yet something was. He had learned, with Ontarrah, that there was nothing but bitter pain to be had from that lure, for it could not deliver what it promised.

"I never thought—I mean—of course you couldn't—"

The embarrassment was back, and Krinata would have been squirming except for the aristocratic upbringing of the Zavaronne. To confront that tension and force Cyrus to become conscious of his deeper feelings, Jindigar rose and circled Krinata's chair. He put his hands on her shoulders, and watching Cyrus, he stroked her neck—the bare human skin having only the slightest fuzz of soft hair that tickled when it got between the sensitive nap that was a part of his skin, not a dead excrescence that remained attached.

He opened himself further to the human Emulation so her body did not seem repulsive, and watched Cyrus fighting the male reflexes that were both social and biological. He was treading hard on Cyrus's territory, the sanctity of which wasn't even under Cyrus's own control—but was a function of Krinata's will. The Outrider was not prepared to face his vulnerability, certainly not at the hands of a nonhuman.

Unable to tolerate Cyrus's building discomfort and clearly alarmed at her physical response to Jindigar's deliberately sensuous touch, Krinata looked up and protested, ''Jindigar, you shouldn't—" Her eyes told him how she had wanted this from him but now no longer did.

Yet he continued to caress her throat meaningfully, giving Cyrus time to absorb her response to him and her rejection of that response. His hand trembled with suppressed memories of Ontarrah—those four heartbreakingly disastrous experiments–and he hoped the only memory of that left to Krinata was her frustrated yearning for what could not be. A yearning for a Dushau's renewing touch might plague a Dushau reincarnated as an ephemeral.