At the very instant she reached her position he broke, and opened the linkages wide in a full global search for Cyrus and the Outriders.

He found them together, in Storm's cabin in the outer courtyard of the compound. Storm was seated on the bed, knees gathered to his chin, arms tightly binding himself together as if he might fly apart from grief.

In the crib beside the bed the Lehiroh's baby lay, unbreathing, a flush of fever still suffusing the skin, though the features were slack in death.

Cyrus leaned weakly against the doorjamb, blocking the door into the adjacent room. His upper lip was damp with beads of sweat, and his shirt showed dark stains. "Maybe this doesn't help," he said, "but I'm glad his mother didn't have to live to see him die. It would have killed her, Storm. Ruff, you tell him."

Ruff was bent over the tiny body, tenderly composing it for the burial. Only the slight trembling of his hands showed the tightly coiled emotion within him. But as Cyrus spoke he glanced up at his human colleague, left his job to one of the other co-fathers, and went across the room lo him. "Cy! You shouldn't he out of bed! We can't afford to lose you too. Think of Krinata – -think of the Oliat."

Storm roused himself to gaze at the two, and as Ruff eased himself under Cyrus's free arm to help him back into the other room, the front door rattled to an insistent touch. One of the other humans opened it, then stepped back, asking, "Threntisn?" His eyes shitted. "Isn't that—"

"Chinchee. Yes. May we enter?"

"We're quarantined," called Storm.

"I have had the disease," announced Threntisn, "and Chinchee is unlikely to acquire it until it mutates again."

Storm waved them inside, saying to Ruff over his shoulder, "Put Cy to bed and see that he drinks more of that concoction that brings the fever down."

Threntisn glimpsed Cyrus and stopped them. "This concerns you, most especially Cyrus. When I heard that you had contracted the fever, I knew it would endanger the Oliat. They have not Dissolved yet, but when they prepare for the effort, they will become aware of your condition. Krinata will be affected—the Oliat could be endangered."

"We've told him that, but he won't stay in bed," explained Storm, casting a frustrated look at his human colleague but paying no attention to Chinchee.

The Native, with his hivebinder on his shoulder, crept closer to the infant's bed to look down on the stillness there. He watched the Lehiroh who was wrapping the body. Solemnly the Native gestured in the air over the baby, then relaxed as if a grave but necessary chore had been completed. Finally he turned to study Cyrus, comparing him to the infant, comprehending at last that the adult human had the disease that had killed the infant Lehiroh.

The Oliat gathered that such cross-species diseases were common on Phanphihy.

"I have devised a plan," announced Threntisn. "I have retrieved the techniques necessary to operate the lab machinery. I can create the appropriate serum from my own blood and inoculate Cyrus. If I do so as the hive watches, they will come to understand why we demand our ship back."

"You'll never get near them!" protested Storm. "Terab's trick didn't even impress the hive."

"Chinchee assures me that it won't move, no matter what Terab does," answered Threntisn, "but it may give us the lab ship."

"You can talk to Chinchee?" demanded Cyrus. , "His Cassrian isn't good enough to let him understand much, but he is anxious for the hive and the colony to negotiate. That seems to be a Herald's function, and Chinchee feels he has failed. I think he'll do his best to get us into the hive area– the rest I believe I can manage."

"Chinchee," asserted Chinchee, confirming that he understood he was being discussed. With one hand he stroked the hivebinder on his shoulder, while in Cassrian whistles he said, "Go. Now."

"Wait now," countered Threntisn in good Cassrian. As a Historian, Threntisn had to be skilled in many professions. He probably could "manage" the lab. But Jindigar couldn't figure where his crazy scheme had come from.

Then he remembered Dar's comment on the Historians' view of Completion. Threntisn must see himself as assisting at the birth of a new civilization, Completing all Dushau, not just himself. But carrying the Archive, Threntisn wasn't free to risk his life. On the other hand, Historians were such mystics, shunning the simple, rigorous derivations of Aliom. How often had he heard Complete Priests say, Never extrapolate a Historian's future actions. They delight in confounding us.

"Cyrus, will you chance it with us?" asked the Historian.

"Don't do it," advised one of his human comrades.

"I would if I could walk that far," said Cyrus, and coughed weakly. "Besides, I'm in quarantine."

"We have a litter outside. We'll carry you. The medics have authorized it. The quarantine isn't working." Outside, four Dushau waited with a litter. The rest of the yard was empty.

"What do you think, Storm?" asked Cyrus. "I can hardly see across the room, let alone think."

"They'll kill you. Remember what it's like inside a hive? Chinchee couldn't help us then. What can he do now?"

"This is a different hive. If they don't kill us first, will the plan succeed?"

The four Lehiroh scrutinized Threntisn and agreed. "Very likely," said Storm, but the Oliat picked up the unspoken undertone, If you had Oliat backing.

Cyrus pushed away from the doorjamb, steadying himself on Ruff's shoulder. "All right. I'm ready."

"I'm coming, then," grunted one of the humans, and the other also prepared to leave.

"No," said Cyrus and Threntisn in unison.

Storm argued, "The Oliat might want us."

"Not likely," said Threntisn. "But Cyrus and I will enter the hive alone. We must be no threat. We merely wish to demonstrate a point."

"He's right," agreed Cyrus, making his way to the front door. "You all wait here. I'll be right back." Then he pulled away from Ruff and stood straight, facing them with a cocky grin. "Besides, I have nothing to lose." And he fainted in a boneless heap.

//Cy!// Unable to restrain herself any longer, Krinata surged into the balanced linkages, filling them all with her sense of urgency.

Jindigar gathered control and snapped, //Outreach!//

Krinata struggled against herself until she once more occupied the delimited position of the Outreach. But her jaw was clenched against the need to seize control, to rush out and do something.

The linkages crackled with her human tension, and for the first time since his grieving of Eithlarin, Zannesu broke out,

//Jindigar! No—not again. Not to Krinata too. Don't let it happen! She doesn't deserve to lose a mate!//

He felt the same sympathy for Krinata in Darllanyu, as if all her hostility toward Krinata had gone. He could hardly bear the sudden yearning that seized him. Never in all his Renewals had he experienced such an overwhelming need for a particular mate, as if Dar promised some inconceivable delight. And now, before he had it, he had to relinquish it.

Then Darllanyu shifted awareness to his physical presence, returning his gaze. It was as if energy flowed from her into his innermost being. As he drew his next breath the Observing Priest he would soon become noted that this signaled the fulfilling of their marriage trial, for only in shaleiliu could two mate so.

Trinarvil, herself glowing with arousal, returned with the pensone and interrupted without apology. //I recommend a five-hour dose, which we can repeat if necessary. We all need it, except Krinata.//

They took the capsules she doled out and swallowed them hastily.

They caught up with Threntisn near the hive's perimeter. As they approached, the Historian lifted Cyrus's blanket-wrapped form off the litter and carried him draped across both arms like a child. Not noticing the Oliat, Threntisn paced behind Chinchee, who danced toward the hive's guards, gyrating and hooting in the formalized Herald's approach to a strange hive.