She took her seat opposite Jindigar. Her black eyes, danced in the firelight. Her short black hair hid the human ear paps, and she sat facing him so he couldn't see the jutting profile of her chest. If it weren't for her hair and pinkish-white skin, she could almost pass for Dushau.

//I plan,// she said, unable to hide her hurt in the silent medium, //to leave right after the Dissolution. I do have my own wedding to prepare for, and Cy will be anxious.//

Cyrus Benwilliam Lord Kulain had been courting Krinata circumspectly since they'd met. As a professional Oliat Outrider, he" knew his job was to protect the Oliat, which meant to protect Krinata from any hint of sexual arousal. Unfortunately, with humans in love, that wasn't possible. Cyrus's feelings and Krinata's unsuppressibte responses had been a major factor in destabilizing Jindigar's Oliat.

//Custom,// argued Zannesu, Jindigar's Inreach, //is for marriage to be witnessed by one's zunre. You are zunre to us, Krinata.// He was to marry Eithlarin, Jindigar's Protector, and the most sensitive of his officers.

Yet Eithlarin was not a weak person. She challenged Darllanyu. //Perhaps Zannesu and I will marry first, so we may enjoy the company of our zunre.//

//I understand Darllanyu's feelings,// Krinata put in quickly. //I'd welcome you all at my wedding, but it wouldn't be healthy for you. If I were Dushau, I wouldn't associate with ephemerals, either. So I'll leave as soon as I can.// Her words were brave, but her heart was torn.

//Ephemerals grieve too,// commented Jindigar, needing to tell her he knew how she felt. //It hurts them just as much as it does us, to lose a friend.// That similarity was one reason Dushau feared association with ephemerals—especially during the openness of Renewal onset when new friendships went so deep they could last a lifetime. But ephemerals rarely lived a hundredth of a lifetime. No Dushau could survive such a high frequency of loss and remain sane.

He felt her reaching for him through the link, as if trying to console him while facing her own bereavement. For the first time in nearly two years, she'd face the world stripped of the Oliat's global awareness. She'd feel naked, alone, cold—shattered to her core. But she didn't flinch. She added, levelly, //Cy will be waiting with the medics, in case I need treatment for Dissolution shock. Trinarvil is outside with the other wedding guests. She'll escort me to the gate—afterward. So let's get on with it.//

Trinarvil, Dushaun's Ambassador to the Allegiancy, had turned out to be their most proficient medic. Jindigar knew he could trust her to treat Krinata if necessary. And he also knew that humans preferred swift partings.

He nodded human-fashion and activated the duo linkage that unified himself and Krinata, preparing to convene the Oliat for Dissolution. But he stole a moment of privacy in their duo, to tell her, //I would have stayed with you the rest of your life—if I could have. But none of us can be trusted anymore. If we don't Dissolve now—//

III know. You explained how we're already deep into the safety margin. You must go to Renewal seclusion now. I want you to go. Ephemerals have done you enough harm. But that doesn't make it any easier to say good-bye.//

In the intimacy of the duo, Jindigar saw himself through her eyes and her emotions. His indigo-napped skin shone in the suddenly bright light, for human eyes were so much more sensitive in the yellow band. His white garments sparkled, making him seem huge and otherworldly. She hardly noted the lack of external ears on his skull but dwelled instead on his seven-fingered hands, seeing a sensualness in the musician's strength.

He drew back, suddenly realizing that she wanted to feel his napped skin stroking her face, and there was nothing" innocent in it. That strange attraction had always been there between them, but it was only lately, since Dar had stirred him so deeply, that he was physically aware of it—and vaguely repelled. But Krinata was the most beautiful* courageous, and compassionate person he had ever known. He could not hurt her, so he didn't let her see that he'd noticed.

//You have Cy. He'll make a good life with you.// By the time he could once again tolerate ephemeral company without the danger of close emotional attachments, he would be dealing with their grandchildren—or perhaps another reincarnation of Krinata.

Ill can't imagine life without Cy. But he's not you. You once told me Renewal can be a harsh judge of souls. I hope it will be kind to you....//

In Renewal, the Dushau body was restored to youthful health while the soul assimilated recent lessons. //The emotional instability will subside in a few years. Raising children can be an immensely vitalizing experience. I recommend you try it. I know Cy wants to.//

Ill expect we will try it.//

//Ready?//

//Yes—just—remember me, just as I am now.//

//Count on it.// And he gentled her into the Office of Out

reach for the entire Oliat, the only one of them who could

speak aloud when they were convened. //Outreach,// he called

her formally, then opened the full seven-way Oliat linkage,

calling each of his officers to function.•' —

He braced himself, expecting the usual discord as the half-trained officers struggled to work with the larger group. In spite of the woefully inadequate performance of his Oliat, he was about to achieve the rank of Retired Center, to become an Observing Priest with Active status.

And then he noticed that the linkages had settled into place with neat precision. Just when there's no time left, they finally get it! His eyes met Dar's, and on his signal, they fingered the subsuming chord, a musical analogue to the soundless vibration of the carrier wave of the universe, which should be a constant background to Oliat awareness. But he had always had to use the music to approximate a balance.

Now he used the whule sound to adjust the tensions of the linkages, as if he were tuning whule strings. For the first time he felt each of his officers actively reaching out toward one another, hungrily seeking the full precision awareness. The harmonics grew stronger than they had ever experienced. Frustrated, he knew that if they had another year, they might make a real Oliat out of the half-trained pentad that had grudgingly accepted Krinata and himself to form this shaky heptad calling itself an Oliat.

As the whule sound died off, the soundless subsuming chord remained and grew to permeate their awareness. It was the first time that had happened for his Oliat, and Jindigar marveled at the new sensations claiming him. His Oliat was in perfect harmony with the universal carrier wave, and in that first, very precious, moment he experienced the very definition of shaleiliu: not jut congruent or harmonious, but a precision attune-ment to life itself.

His eyes met Krinata's, and they shared a memory: the day he had struggled for hours to define shaleiliu for her and had finally reminded her of the time she had questioned him about the purpose of life, the nature of death, the spiritual and material structure of reality, the origin and end of existence, and his identity within that structure and process, and he had responded by showing her a hologram of a lightning flash accompanied by the whule chord. "That sound is the shaleiliu hum and expresses the relationship among all those concepts.

It is the sound lightning makes when it propagates through air. It is the carrier wave that indicates that the universe is constantly being created and sustained." He had told her, but she hadn't grasped it.

Now tears of joy stung her eyes as she discovered what he had meant. He had served in many Oliats, so the chord was familiar to him, but from Center it was far more intense, for only the Center was aware of all the forces they observed and how each was a perfect harmonic of the shaleiliu hum.