There was a long minute of quiet. It was Tain who broke it. "Is it true that some people think I look like an angel of Kargh?"

The question startled the Kalif. "Yes, that's true. The Prophet said that angels have golden hair. And a holy artist, a pastor named Yogandharaya, painted them as looking like beautiful women, not only with golden hair, but blue eyes as well." He paused, looking softly at her. "Until you, people didn't think humans could look like that. Could be so beautiful."

"Do you think that angels really look like that?"

"I suppose they do, at least for the hair. The Prophet said so." He stared at her in the darkness. "What brought this up?"

"You said-you said that Kargh caused me to look like an angel."

He frowned, puzzled. "When did I say that?"

"I saw-Someone left another cube."

That cube! Realizations rushed in on him. He'd said it to the Diet. Then she saw me kill Nathiir! And heard us talk about the book!

"I-He caused you to look like pictures of angels."

There was silence again, that seemed longer than it was.

"It seemed to me that some of the nobles hate you very much. It frightens me."

I should have issued some interrogatories, he thought grimly, found out who left that first cube for her. How could I have overlooked that?

This time her hand found his. "Darling," she said, "I lied to you."

His guts tightened. What now?

"I told you someone had left the cube for me. Actually I found them in the library; there are lots of them there. I thought if you knew the truth, you might say something so they wouldn't let me have them."

He relaxed, the held breath easing out of him.

"I understand. And-I might have."

"But I couldn't find the book there- The Kalif's Bride."

" The Sultan's Bride. It's just as well."

"Do you have a copy?"

"I-It's in a hard file. You don't want to see it."

Again she didn't reply for a moment. Then: "You told the Diet we're too strong to be hurt by it."

"Ah." It was his turn to have no immediate reply. A man shielded his wife, but Tain-She might not have been a soldier, but she'd been in battle and survived. "If you really want to see it-" he said at last. "If you really want to, I'll get it for you when we go down. It's-very insulting."

"When we go down," she said after him, then added: "I've asked my questions. I said I had some news, too."

He'd forgotten. "That's right."

There was a smile behind her voice. "Poor darling. I've pressed you and troubled you so this evening, you probably expect my news to be bad. It's not." She squeezed his hand. "I'm pregnant. You're going to be a father."

He didn't react at first, just sat there absorbing the idea. "A father," he said at last, then turned, kissed her very gently, and murmured against her cheek: "That is wonderful news indeed. I love you very much."

"And Coso?"

"Yes?"

"What I said earlier, about not wanting to make love up here tonight-I've changed my mind."

Later, in their room, Tain found herself not sleepy. After her husband was asleep, she got up, had a drink, then picked up her kitten and began to pet it. Suddenly a vision formed in her mind, looking as if it were there before her in the room. A waking, conscious image of a slender young woman, a girl with red hair and green eyes. The vision did nothing, said nothing. Seeing it, Tain felt sure she'd dreamed the girl sometime, had seen her in her sleep.

And before that, somewhere earlier, had known her in life! When that realization struck her, deep chills passed over Tain, chills that came in waves, intense, almost orgasmic. They continued for perhaps fifteen seconds, then faded. When they were gone, the vision was gone, too.

Thirty-eight

The rainy season had started feebly. After producing two strong rains, it had faltered, issuing only ineffectual showers in a dozen days-thunder and wind with mere spatters of raindrops. At last though, it relented. In three days they'd had three storms and seven inches of rain. Seven going on twelve, thought Colonel Veeri Thoglakaveera.

Veeri had grown up on his family's great landholding on Klestron, and though he'd never taken part in its management, he recognized these rains for what they were: a renewal, a blessing to farms, reservoirs, woodlands, the district water commission. But he'd never liked storms. Typically they rasied in him a black mood with undercurrents of violence.

This time it seemed he'd be spared that. In fact, he was feeling rather pleased with the world. He'd gotten five greatly desired things the past week: Via pod post there'd been money, credits from Klestron-rents from property assigned to him there. He'd also gotten a vehicle permit and this sporty red hovercar. And Rami, a woman, a cute little thing with more skills in bed than either Leolani or Tain. And finally an invitation to another party at Tagurt Meksorli's.

He still had more than a month and a half before he was supposed to "recover from his injury," but he'd grown impatient. And if he used reasonable caution, he'd told himself, no one would know who shouldn't. Rami continued to live in her own apartment, and if anything came up, he'd claim they weren't lovers. How could they be, given "his condition?" He'd avoid embassy parties with her, and away from Embassy Avenue, who knew? Seemingly even there not many, while those who presumably did, didn't seem terribly interested.

This would be the first party he'd taken Rami to. He'd been told there'd be women there this time, a few at least. And Rami was noble and well-raised, even though her family had come on hard times. She'd mix well with the officers' wives and ladies.

Just now his attention was mainly on his driving. Hover vehicles didn't ride on air cushions; they levitated on an AC proximity field, which not only lifted, but slid them quietly and unwaveringly through the planetary G-field. The deluxe model he drove could lift him as high as ten inches above the local surface and carry him sixty-three miles per hour-actually up to seventy-nine as needed for emergencies, though those speed bursts could be detected and watched by the police.

The storm wind couldn't deflect Veeri's course, but it did buffet and shake the small car, while sheets of rain deluged his windshield. Veeri preferred to drive by direct vision, but he couldn't see well enough; the rain was too much for his wipers. He could scarcely see the street signs, let alone read them. So he "drove the system." The hover drive was locked into the gravitic continuum, and in the Imperial District was keyed to the Vartosu system of gravitic coordinates. Thus he steered by the moving map that slid slowly down his screen, a map which showed, among other things, his and other vehicles, in real time.

Actually, within the city's suburban fringe, the speed limit was forty-eight mph, not sixty-three, and monitored by the police, of course, on screens in precinct stations and cruisers, both hovercars and floaters. But given the weather, and the limitations of driving the system, Veeri stayed mostly under forty, and when he reached the hills, with their narrow twisting lanes, their switchbacks and plunging slopes, he slowed further.

By that time the rain was less violent, and he drove by what his headlights showed him, using the map only to find his way. In places the grassy lanes resembled mountain streams, and the neighborhood a forest. When he pulled up to Meksorli's, an off-duty corporal, earning extra cash, hurried out to them with a large umbrella.

Inside, Veeri found a larger group than before-perhaps twenty-five men and a dozen women. Four women sat among the men before the window-wall, where windblown rain beat silently, to sluice down the sound-muffling glass. The rest of the women were talking in an adjacent room, and after he and Rami had drinks in hand, she went to join them. Veeri sat down with the men.