Mary tried to push the thought of Hak out of her mind, and said, “Actually, we tend to do it face to face.”

“Ah,” said Ponter, and Mary felt him pull out of her. She thought he was simply going to roll her onto her back, but he stood up next to the bed, and held a hand out to her. Perplexed, Mary reached up and took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet, his hard penis bumping against her soft belly. He then reached down with both massive hands, cupping each of her cheeks in one, and lifting her clear off the ground. Mary’s legs naturally swung wide, encircling his waist, and he lowered her onto his penis, effortlessly lifting her up and down its length over and over again as he stood. Their lips moved together, and as they kissed, and as her heart pounded and his chest heaved, she came with a great shuddering sensation, moaning despite herself, and once she was done, Ponter increased the rate of his up/down oscillations even more, and Mary pulled away from him a bit, looking at his face, his gorgeous golden eyes locked on her, as his body racked in orgasm. And, at last, they tumbled sideways onto the bed, and he held her, and she held him.

Mary and Ponter never had bothered to close the heavy drapes in the hotel room, and so when the sun came up, Mary found herself awake, and she could see that Ponter was awake, too. “’Morning,” she said, looking at him. But he had apparently been conscious for some time, and when he turned his head to face her, tears rolled out of the deep wells that contained his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” asked Mary, gently wiping away the moisture with the back of her hand.

“Nothing,” said Ponter.

Mary made a show of frowning. “Nothing my foot,” she said. “What is it?”

“I am sorry,” said Ponter. “Last night…”

Mary felt her heart sink. She’d thought it had been wonderful. Hadn’t he shared that opinion? “What about it?”

“I am sorry,” he said again. “It was the first time I had been with a woman since…”

Mary’s eyebrows shot up, getting it. “Since Klast died,” she finished softly.

Ponter nodded. “I miss her very much,” he said.

Mary laid an arm across his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his every breath. “I’m sorry I never got to meet her,” she said.

“Forgive me,” said Ponter. “You are here; Klast is not. I should not be…”

“No, no, no,” said Mary, softly. “It’s all right. It’s fine. I love…” She stopped herself short. “I love that you have such deep feelings.”

She drew her arm tighter about his chest, pulling herself closer to him. She couldn’t blame him for thinking of his late wife; after all, it hadn’t been that long since she’d died, and—

And suddenly Mary thought of the one thing that hadn’t come to mind since Ponter took her in his arms out in the corridor, the one faceless presence from her past that hadn’t invaded their time together. But she found she could quickly dismiss that thought, and, with her arm on Ponter, and one of his, now, resting along her naked back, she fell asleep again, absolutely at peace.

“So you and this female Gliksin had intimate relations?” said Selgan, apparently trying to control his surprise.

Ponter nodded.

“But…”

“What?” demanded Ponter.

“But she…she is a Gliksin.” Selgan paused, then lifted his shoulders. “She is of a different species.”

“She is human,” said Ponter firmly.

“But…”

“I will hear no buts!” said Ponter. “She is human. They are all humans, these people of the other world.”

“If you say so. And yet—”

“You don’t know them,” said Ponter. “You haven’t met even one of them. They are people. They are us.”

“You sound defensive about this,” said Selgan.

Ponter shook his head. “No. You have perhaps been right about other things, but not about this. I have no doubt in my mind. Mare Vaughan, Lou Benoît, Reuben Montego, Hélène Gagné, and all the others I met over there—they are human beings. You will come to know that; all of our people will come to know that.”

“And yet you were crying.”

“It was as I said to Mary. I was remembering Klast.”

“You weren’t feeling guilty?”

“About what?”

“Two were not One at this time.”

Ponter frowned. “Well, I suppose that’s true. I mean, I never thought about it. In the Gliksin world, males and females spend the entire month together, and…”

“And when in Bistob, do as the Bistobians do?”

Ponter shrugged. “Exactly.”

“Do you think your man-mate would have shared your view of this?”

“Oh, Adikor wouldn’t have minded. In fact, he’d have been thrilled. He’s been wanting me to find a new woman, and well…”

“Well what?”

“Better a Gliksin when Two were supposed to be separate, than Daklar Bolbay at any time of the month. That would be his perspective, I’m sure.”

Mary and Ponter finally emerged from the hotel room. They’d missed the first three papers being presented that morning, but that was all right; Mary had downloaded the PDF file containing the abstracts prior to their leaving New York, and knew that the morning sessions were devoted to Homo erectus and some attempts to resurrect Homo ergaster as a valid separate species. No DNA had ever been recovered from either of these ancient forms, so Mary wasn’t particularly interested in them.

As they came down the corridor, one of the FBI men appeared. “Envoy Boddit,” he said, “this just came for you via FedEx from Sudbury.”

The man held out a diplomatic pouch. Ponter took the bag, opened it, and extracted a memory bead. He turned it over in his hand. “I should really listen to this.”

Mary grinned. “Well, I certainly don’t want to hear you being yelled at. I’m going to go and look at the poster displays.”

Ponter smiled and went to his hotel room. The FBI man stood at attention in the corridor, and Mary proceeded to the elevator station.

The lift came. Mary headed down to the mezzanine where the Association of American Archeology poster displays were being set up. That conference didn’t really start until tomorrow, and she and Ponter weren’t going to stay for it, but several exhibitors had already put up their posters. Mary stood looking at a pair of panels about Hopi pottery.

After a while, though, she got worried about Ponter, and so she headed back up to the twelfth floor.

The FBI man was still there in the corridor. “Are you looking for Envoy Boddit, ma’am?” he said.

Mary nodded.

“He’s in his own room,” said the agent.

Mary went over to that room, and knocked on the door. After a moment, it opened. “Mare!” said Ponter.

“Hi,” she replied. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, yes.”

Ponter’s suitcase—the strange trapezoidal one he’d brought from the other universe—was lying unfolded on the bed. “What are you doing?” asked Mary.

“Packing.”

“They’re making you go back? I thought you said you wouldn’t do that.” She frowned. Of course, now that there were a dozen Neanderthals in New York City, he really didn’t have to stay any longer to force the portal to remain open, but, well, after last night…

“No,” said Ponter. “No one is making me. The memory bead was from my daughter, Jasmel Ket.”

“My God, is she okay?”

“Jasmel is fine. She has consented to be the woman-mate of Tryon, a young man she has been seeing.”

Mary lifted her eyebrows. “You mean she’s getting married?”

“It is comparable, yes,” said Ponter. “I must return to my universe for the ceremony.”

“When is it?”

“In five days.”

“Wow,” said Mary. “Things certainly move fast in your world.”