The police had vacated; there was the sound of cars pulling away outside. The Dain-Prossertys had disappeared. She walked into the hall, the door open on the rain on one side, Jim and the two guard-azi with the baggage on the other. The majat stalked up behind her from another doorway, and stopped, sat down, waiting.

She drew a breath and looked about her, at the house and the azi. It was a comfortable place: execrable taste in furnishings…it gave her a little pang of regret for the Eln-Kests, for in its beta-ish way it had a certain warmth, less beauty than Kontrin style, but a feeling of habitation, all the same.

“Stay now, Kontrin-queen?”

She looked at the Warrior who had spoken, the smaller of the two. “Yes. My-hive, this place.” She looked at Jim, at the new azi. “You have names, you two?”

“Max,” one volunteered; “Merry,” the other. They were not doubles. Max was dark-haired and Merry was pale blond, Max brown-eyed and Merry blue. But the heavy-bodied build was the same, the stature the same, the square-jawed faces of the same expression. The eyes told most of them…calm, cold, stolid now that their existence was re-ordered. They could recognise threats; they were likely compulsive about locks and security; they would fight with great passion once the holder of their contracts identified the enemy.

“You two will take direction from Jim as well as from me,” she told them. “And identify yourselves to the majat: Jim, show them. Warrior, be careful with these azi.”

The two Warriors shifted forward in slow-motion, met Jim; auditory palps flicked forward in interest at his taste, Kalind blue’s memory. Max and Merry had to be shown, but they bore the close touch of mandibles with more fortitude than betas would have shown: perhaps the ride enclosed with the majat had frightened all the fear out of them.

“That’s well done,” she said. “There’s not a majat won’t know you hereafter; you understand that.—Luggage goes upstairs, mine does; the other can go to some room at the back: Jim, see to it. You two help him; and then check out the place and make sure doors are locked and systems aren’t rigged in any way.” She wiped a finger through the dust on a ball table, rubbed it away. “Seals aren’t very efficient. Be thorough. And mind, Kontrin azi have license to fire on any threat: anythreat, even Kontrin. Go on, go on with you.”

They went. She looked at the two majat, who alone remained.

“You remember me,” she said.

“Kethiuy-queen,” said the larger, inclining its head to her.

That was Warrior’s mind.

“Hive-friend,” she said. “I brought you Kalind blue, brought Kalind hive’s message. Can you read it?”

“Revenge.”

“I am blue-hive,” she said. “Meth-maren of Cerdin, first-hive. What is the state of things here, Warrior-mind? How did reds know us?”

“Many reds, redsss, redsss. Go here, go there. Redss. Goldss. I kill.”

“How did reds know us?”

“Men tell them. Redss pushhh. Much push. I defend, defend. The betas give us grain, azi, much. Grow.”

“How did you know to come to the port, Warrior?”

“Mother sendss. I killed red; red tastes of mission, seeks blue, seeks port-direction. I reported and mother sent me, quick, quick, too late.”

It was the collective I. Icould be any number of individuals.

“But,” she said, “you received Kalind blue’s message.”

“Yesss.”

“This-unit,” said the other, “is Kethiuy-queen’s messenger. Send now. Send.”

“Thank Mother,” she told it. “Yes. Go.”

It scuttled doorward with disturbing rapidity, a rattle of spurred feet on the tiles—was gone, into the dark.

“This-unit,” intoned the other, the larger, “guards.”

“This-hive is grateful.” Raen touched the offered head, stroked the sensitive palps, elicited a humming of pleasure from Warrior. She ceased; it edged away, then stalked out into the rain—no inconvenience for Warrior, rather pleasure: it would walk the grounds tirelessly, needing no sleep, a security system of excellent sensitivity.

She closed and locked the front door, let go a breath of relief. The baggage had disappeared; she heard Jim’s voice upstairs, giving orders.

The temperature was uncomfortably high. She wandered through the reception room and the dining room and located the house comp, found it already activated. That was likely the doing of the police, but the potential hazard worried her. With proper staff she would. have insisted on a checkout; as it was, she stripped off her cloak and set to work herself, searching for the most likely forms of tampering, first visually and then otherwise. At last she keyed in the air-conditioning.

Failing immediate catastrophe, feeling the waft of cold air from the ducts, she sat down, assured that she could see the door in the reflection of the screen, and ran through the standard house programs from the list conveniently posted by the terminal…called up a floor plan, found the usual security system, passive alarm, nothing of personal hazard: betas would not dare.

Then she keyed in citycomp, pulled Merek Eln’s ID from her belt and started inquiries. The deaths were already recorded: someone’s extreme efficiency. The property reverted to ITAK; the Eln-Kests had not used their license-for-one-child, and while Parn Kest had living relatives, they were not entitled: the house had been in Eln’s name. A keyed request purchased the property entire, on her credit.

Human officials, she reflected, might be mildly surprised when citycomp and ITAK records turned that up in the morning. And Parn Kest’s effects… Merek Eln’s too…could be shipped to the relatives as soon as it was certain there was no information to be had from them It was the least courtesy due.

Max and Merry came noisily downstairs, rambled about the lower floor and the garage looking for security faults, finally reported negative.

She turned and looked at them. They seemed tired—might be hungry as well. “Inventory shows canned goods in the kitchen stores. Azi quarters are out across the garden, kitchen out there too. Does that suit you?”

They nodded placidly. She sent them away, and began reckoning time-changes. She and Jim had missed lunch and; she figured, supper, by several hours.

That accounted for some of the tremor in her muscles, she decided, and wandered off to join Max and Merry in their search of kitchen storage. Warrior could make do with sugared water, a treat it would actually relish; Warrior would also, with its peculiar capacities, assure that they were not poisoned.

iv

Jim ate, sparingly and in silence, and showed some relief. It was the first meal he had kept down all day. She noted a shadow about his eyes and a distracted look, much as the crew of the Jewelhad had at the last.

Notwithstanding, he would have cleared the dishes after…his own notion or unbreakable habit, she was not certain. “Leave it,” she said. He would not have come upstairs with her, but she stopped and told him to.

Second door to the right atop the stairs, the main bedroom: Jim had set everything there, a delightful room even to a Kontrin’s eye, airy furniture, all white and pale green. There was a huge skylight, a bubble rain-spotted and showing the lightnings overhead.

“Dangerous,” she said, and not because of the lightnings.

“There are shields,” he offered, indicating a switch.

“Leave it. We wouldn’t be safe from a Kontrin assassin, but we probably will from the talent Istra could summon on short notice. Let’s only hope none of the Family has been energetic enough to precede me here. Where’s your luggage?”

“Hall,” he said faintly.

“Well, bring it in.”

He did so, and set about unpacking his own things with a general air of distress. She recalled him in the terminal, frozen, with the gun locked in his hands. The remarkable thing was that he had had the inclination to seize it in the first place…the dead guard, she reckoned, and opportunity and sheer desperation.