"Do so," Piltariab urged, his odor changing again. "Without a good hunter in the group we will have to make more trips to the island to purchase food, and that will create ill temper."

"I imagine so," Kolchin said. "Farewell, Moo Sab Piltariab."

"Farewell, Moo Sab Plex. Farewell, Moo Sab Stymer."

The Avuire turned and headed north through the forest, pulling a large machete from its waist sheath and holding it ready for trouble. "You really wanted him along with us?" Cavanagh asked quietly as they watched him leave.

"No," Kolchin said, taking Cavanagh's arm and leading the way off to their left. "I was mostly curious to see what his response would be to the offer. I'm not sure, but I think someone may have been watching us from one of the other boats."

Cavanagh's stomach tightened painfully. "Bronski's people?"

"Could be," Kolchin said. "I couldn't really see anyone. It was just a feeling I had."

Cavanagh nodded grimly. Petr Bronski. On official government file lists, a lowly assistant liaison with the Commonwealth diplomatic corps. On more private lists a senior officer with NorCoord Military Intelligence. "That's why you got us off the dock."

"Common sense alone would dictate that," Kolchin said. "Here we are."

Here turned out to be a small tree-topped knoll overlooking the strait and the dock area. "Let me have the binoculars," Kolchin said as he dropped into a crouch. "Keep out of sight."

Cavanagh handed over the binocular case and sat down, easing the backpack off his shoulders as Kolchin went the rest of the way up the knoll on elbows and knees. Sliding his hand under the seal flap, he opened it up.

The card from Bokamba was right on top. Pulling out his plate, Cavanagh inserted the card and, steeling himself, began to read.

And as he did so, some of the weight abruptly lifted from his shoulders.

"They're heading away," Kolchin said, crawling back down the knoll. "I was probably just imagining things." He nodded at the plate. "Good news?"

"Wonderful news," Cavanagh said, handing it to him. "Bokamba says the rescue mission has come back. Pheylan, Aric, and Quinn are all alive and well."

"That's great," Kolchin said, sitting down beside Cavanagh and taking the plate. "Congratulations, sir."

"Thank you," Cavanagh said, leaning back against the knoll and staring up through the trees at the sky. It had worked—the terrible gamble had actually worked.

"Says they're all on Edo," Kolchin said, still reading. "Probably facing court-martial."

"They'll never make it stick," Cavanagh said, shaking his head. "You can't court-martial heroes."

"Tell that to Quinn," Kolchin said dryly. "I see we have a name for the aliens now—we're supposed to call them the Zhirrzh." He paused. "No news here about Melinda."

Cavanagh nodded. "I noticed that too."

"Well, she's in the middle of a war zone," Kolchin pointed out, handing the plate back to Cavanagh and starting to poke through the open pack. "Even Bokamba can't just phone up Peacekeeper Command and ask for a private briefing."

"All the more reason to get off Granparra as soon as we can," Cavanagh said, paging the message down. "He's included an equipment price list... looks like we've got enough money for an infuser. Let's see if he has equally good news about... damn."

"What?" Kolchin asked, looking up.

" 'Don't attempt to come onto the island yet,' " Cavanagh read aloud. " 'There are Peacekeepers all over, collecting equipment for the war effort. I've checked their schedule, and they'll be gone in two days.' "

"That means we should stay out here for three," Kolchin said. "There are always last-minute problems that straggle these things out."

Cavanagh hissed between his teeth. Three more days. Three more days of the dangerous annoyances of the Granparra forest. Three more days of trying not to think of Melinda in the far deadlier danger of a Conqueror war zone.

But if it had to be, then it had to be. All this waiting would be for nothing if they made it to the island only to trip over a Peacekeeper squad on the lookout for them. "All right," he sighed, keying the message off and closing the plate. "Three days. But no more."

"Fine," Kolchin said briskly, standing up and brushing bits of leaves off his clothing. "And in the meantime we might as well earn a few more poumaries. You might be interested in buying an actual restaurant meal once we get to the island."

"Good point," Cavanagh agreed, the taste of the previous evening's roast grooma coming back as he struggled to his feet.

"Besides," Kolchin said, the smile fading, "I think we should go a little deeper into the forest."

Or perhaps it was simply that the smells were flavored by her own fear and anxiety. Here, in the middle of a war zone, carrying the dreadfully illegal sample she and Thrr-gilag had taken from Prr't-zevisti's fsss organ, there was certainly plenty to be afraid of.

But she was here, and Second Commander Klnn-vavgi was waiting for her at the foot of the shuttle ramp as a good cousin ought to, and this was no time for second thoughts. Keeping her head held high, trying not to let her nervousness show, she continued down.

"Greetings to you, third cousin in the family of Klnn," Klnn-vavgi gave the formal clan salutation as she reached the ground. "I am Second Commander Klnn-vavgi; Dhaa'rr."

"I am Searcher Klnn-dawan-a; Dhaa'rr," Klnn-dawan-a said, giving the appropriate response. "I greet you in turn, third cousin, and ask for your hospitality."

"My hospitality is yours," Klnn-vavgi said, flicking his tongue in a smile. "Welcome, Klnn-dawan-a. It's good to see you again."

"And you, Klnn-vavgi," she said, studying his face as she returned the smile. They had met only rarely over the past few cyclics—their two particular branches of the family had never been especially close. But her memories of him were strong enough that she was able to see that the stresses of warfare had added new strains to his face. "You're looking well," she said aloud. "It's been, what, two cyclics since we last saw each other?"

"More like one and two-thirds," Klnn-vavgi said, flicking his tongue toward the rack of kavra fruit set up beside him. Generally, the rite of the kavra was dispensed with between such close family members; obviously, procedures at warrior bases were more stringent. "It was at Kylre Point, at the bonding ceremony of Klnn-poroo and Rka-felmib."

Klnn-dawan-a looked at him sharply, her tongue pressing hard against the roof of her mouth. But there was none of the sly taunting in his expression that she'd half expected. "I presume you've heard that the Dhaa'rr-clan leaders have annulled my bond-engagement to Thrr-gilag."

"Yes," Klnn-vavgi said, not looking at her as he chose one of the kavra from the rack. "We have a couple of Dhaa'rr Elders here who keep up on the gossip from home."

Klnn-dawan-a picked up her own kavra, her tongue pressed hard against the side of her mouth. Gossip. Her love for Thrr-gilag—his love for her—their hoped-for, longed-for, pleaded-for future together. All of it reduced to nothing more important than gossip.

Klnn-vavgi must have seen something in her expression. "I'm sorry," he said hastily. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"It's all right," Klnn-dawan-a said. "I suppose to anyone else that's all it is." She held up the kavra fruit and slashed through it twice with the edges of her tongue, with perhaps more force than was really necessary.

Klnn-vavgi followed with his part of the ceremony, and they dropped their lacerated fruit into the disposal container. "Commander Thrr-mezaz wanted me to bring you to him as soon as you arrived," he said, gesturing the way toward one of the buildings near the landing area. "I understand you've brought some personal messages and items from Dharanv for the Dhaa'rr warriors here."