‹Are we going somewhere?› Tain asked.

‹Yes,› Lotta told her. ‹You have more dreams to dream. I'm here to guide you.›

Tain wasn't surprised at all when a spaceship took shape around her. Coso was there, steering as if it were a car. It was dark and foggy out, and hard to see. ‹We're lost,› he told her. ‹This isn't Iryala. I don't know where we are.› After a little while they came to a village, and he stopped in front of a restaurant. A man came over to the car and Coso asked if this was Iryala.

The man was friendly and jovial. He said no, it wasn't, and asked them to come inside and have something to eat, so they went in. Inside were a lot of soldiers, and they grabbed her and Coso and tied their hands, and the soldiers' faces weren't human. They looked like pig faces. They took her and Coso back outside and stood them against a concrete wall, talking and laughing the whole while.

The one who'd brought them in was an officer, and he asked if they had any last requests. Tain told them she wanted to kiss her husband, but the officer just laughed and walked to where the soldiers were lined up.

"Ready!" he said. She could hear him say it. "Aim!" The pig-faced soldiers raised their guns. The guns didn't have any holes in the ends, and she thought it would be a joke on them when they tried to shoot them. "Fire!"

Beams of sizzling light came from the ends of the guns, and she watched from above as the beams burned her body up, hers and Coso's. The soldiers all laughed then; they thought she was dead, she and Coso. Coso grinned at her. "Next time we'll find it," he told her.

She turned and there was Lotta, as big and sleek as the times before…

Tain awoke to pale dawn, and the singing of birds in the garden outside their window. For brief seconds she wondered if this was going to be more of the dream, then decided it wasn't. It didn't feel like a dream, although she was disoriented, wasn't sure if she was still on Varatos, or if they'd already gone to Iryala.

Still only half awake, she closed her eyes again to sort it out. There'd been one dream after another it seemed to her, all night long. They'd gone to Iryala and been welcomed; and gone to Iryala to find all the cities destroyed and everyone there gone, leaving their killed bodies behind. And gone to Iryala to find the imperial army all killed; she and Coso had been put into a prison there that was just like a cottage, and they'd made love, a strange ethereal love that was like listening to beautiful music. Afterward she'd lain there and watched her belly get big and round, and she'd given birth to-Lotta! She remembered that, and then they'd been in a spaceship again. Time after time, good and bad, they'd gone to invade Iryala, so many times it was blurred, and all of it had seemed all right, win or lose.

Something moved on the bed beside Tain, startling her wide awake. It was Lotta, purring loudly. She climbed onto Tain's chest and began to knead a breast with tiny paws; Coso had gotten up and left the garden door open. Gone to drill with Sergeant Yalabiin, she thought, and putting Lotta aside, got up and went into the bathroom.

She tried to look at the dreams again, but they'd slipped away. Something about she and Coso going off to invade the Confederation. Something long and rambling, and not upsetting at all. Now in their place were the realities of yesterday and last evening.

The afternoon before, when she'd finished watching the cube, she'd felt deeply betrayed. The feeling was gone now, and it seemed that the dreams had something to do with that. But Coso had already weakened it, dulled it, when he'd talked with her last evening; there was something about Coso when he talked. When they'd come down from the roof garden, the feeling of betrayal had still been there, though she'd tried to push it away, but it had been much weaker.

She groped again for the dreams, without success. Then, tentatively, she tried to recreate the sense of betrayal. Not that she wanted to experience it again, but to see if she could get it back. Tentatively wasn't enough though, and she didn't really want to have it, so she didn't carry through with it.

She wouldn't worry about it, she told herself. After a stinging shower, she dressed and called for breakfast. She'd go to the library, she decided, and learn more about this place, these people, and indirectly about her husband.

Thirty

"Colonel?"

The marshal of the guard turned to see who'd called; rarely did a female voice speak to him inside the Sreegana. It was the kalifa. He'd never before seen her closer than eighty or a hundred feet. She was even more beautiful close up; it was almost intimidating.

"Yes, your ladyship?"

"I was right then. Those are a colonel's insignia."

"Yes, your ladyship."

Her smile, though subdued, froze his brain for the moment. "You're the guard commander, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes, your ladyship."

"May I speak with you?"

"Of course, your ladyship."

She turned and led him down the broad corridor to a small, open-sided room, a largish alcove in the side of the broad corridor, with a simple, backless bench. He felt ill at ease, receiving the private attention of the Kalif's beautiful wife. When they were seated, she spoke again, and her smile was gone.

"There are people who dislike my husband very much, aren't there?"

"I-suppose so, your ladyship. But there are more who love him."

"Are there also some who hate him then? Enough to do him harm? To kill him?"

"There are always such, your ladyship. It's part of being a ruler."

"Is-my husband in danger of his life?"

Her question made him want to assure her. Without lying. "Your ladyship, every man is in danger of his life; simply some more than others. As for the Kalif, I do not think his danger is anything to worry about. No man is better guarded. No one can even enter the Sreegana without a pass." He paused, then spoke in a tone of confidence. "You know, of course, that the Kalif was once a marine colonel."

She nodded. "He's mentioned it."

"The Kalif is still a young man, younger even than his years, and he drills almost daily with the saber. With Sergeant Yalabiin. And he carries a stunner with him at all times. He's strong, his reflexes are quick, and his eyes miss little. Between the guard regiment and his own self, your ladyship, I wouldn't worry for his life."

She nodded absently, as if thinking of something. "Colonel-Do people like him less because he married me? A foreigner? And perhaps not a noblewoman?"

"Your ladyship," he said carefully, "I don't know. But I can tell you his guard doesn't like him less. And his house servants don't: I've heard them say you're courteous and considerate at all times."

Again she sat silent for a moment, then: "I overheard someone mention that the old Kalif was murdered. How did that happen, guarded as he was?"

Inwardly the marshal winced. "Your ladyship-Kalif Gotsu Areknosaamos was a cruel and evil man. Very unlike your husband. He had many people killed, mostly by impaling, and many hated him. Also, he'd become a heretic."

"Was his murderer caught?"

The colonel's stomach tightened. "He wasn't actually murdered, your ladyship. He was executed."

She sat looking thoughtful. Thoughtful and beautiful. At last she got up.

"Thank you, Colonel." She smiled then, a wonderful smile, it seemed to him, though still subdued. "Will you tell me your name? I prefer to know people by name as well as title."

"I am Colonel Vilyamo, your ladyship. Vilyamo Parsavamaatu."

He watched as she walked away down the corridor, a walk graceful yet strong. He would have a hard time keeping her out of his mind. It seemed to him that the Kalif was a very fortunate man to have such a kalifa, and somehow he liked and respected him more for it.