This won’t do.Sweat crawled down his back. This simply won’t do.

He was a Trill, with secrets. And was it simply that fact alone that accounted for his reluctance to mingle? True, the Trill had theirsecrets, in more ways than one. A lucky point-one-percent of the population carried a secret in their bodies. But then there was everybody else, and then there were Trill like him.

It’s eating you up, Anjad. Your jealousy, your hurt, and you say you love me, but I know the truth, I know you really want me dead.

Th’leila, how can you say that? I love you.

No, Anjad. You don’t know what you love more: me, or what’s inside…

No.Kodell forced these thoughts back into the black box in his mind where he kept them. Stop this.He wouldn’t think about Th’leila, and he wouldn’t think about Bok, nor would he think of Th’leila Bok: as they were, together, closer than lovers, and how much he loved and hated them both because Th’leila had been lucky, and he had not, and how Bok—Kodell’s heart twisted with grief and longing—how Bok had been his, hisfor a brief, precious moment, joining in the conductance fluid medium of the tank, their thoughts entwining, and Bok had been hissymbiont, before there ever was a Th’leila.

Th’leila’s body, her skin slicked with sweat from their love-making, the long golden river of her hair curling around her breasts, and the way she cried out, arching, reaching for him. “Love me, Anjad, show me how you love me…”

Just ahead, Kodell spied three enlisted straddling the entire width of the corridor. Kodell dodged left while clearing his throat, loudly. The enlisted on the far left jumped as if he’d been shot with a phaser. He flinched aside, crowding his two companions who bunched to the right, along the bulkhead.

“Sorry, sir. I didn’t see…”

“Fine, fine.” Kodell just waved a hand and shot past. “Carry on.”

Bat-Levi. Kodell strode purposefully for the turbolift. Bat-Levi had gotten him started. But she didn’t look anything like Th’leila Bok, a woman with hair as golden as liquid sunlight and deep brown eyes and lips so full he never couldresist catching the lower one between his teeth when they kissed. So what was it? Why now? Kodell clenched his fists, tight, tight. Why was he plagued by thoughts of Th’leila—and Bok— now?

Kodell saw a gaggle of crewmen waiting at the turbolift and suppressed an urge to curse. Take a Jefferies, get some exercise.Cooped up in a ship all day, crawling around the Jefferies tubes was a relief. Maybe a little like one of those blind, naked Draken mole rats, but still a relief.

Then he heard a woman calling his name, and his stomach did a little leap of dismay. For one brief instant, petty as the impulse was, Kodell debated. He could pretend he hadn’t heard then dart right down the near corridor, jog to a Jefferies tube that would take him all the way to Deck 22, and then jump on a turbolift there.

Ahead, he saw a crewman turn his head and then look at Kodell, who’d hesitated one millisecond too long. “I think she’s calling you, sir,” the crewman said, helpfully.

“Yes,” said Kodell, knowing he couldn’t avoid Bat-Levi now. He gave the crewman a tight smile. “Thank you so much, crewman.”

He turned, and watched as Bat-Levi approached. He noticed, as if for the first time, that she was fairly skilled in compensating for her prostheses. Her movements weren’t clumsy, though she lurched a little to the left. Probably the right knee joint needed readjusting; nothing five minutes with a tefloflex spanner wouldn’t solve. And she had to do something about the noise. Those servos sounded like the high-pitched chirping of a flock of Meprean grackles. Strange she hadn’t upgraded. Most people cared about those things. On the other hand—his eyes took in her scar, the way her once-pretty face twisted to one side, that streak of white skittering through her black hair like an errant lightening bolt—Darya Bat-Levi clearly wasn’t most people.

“Commander,” he said as she came to stand before him. Kodell put his hands behind his back, as if coming to attention but really giving himself a warning not to get too comfortable. He noticed then that when she stood, she kept her left hand—the artificial one—tucked, out of sight, at the small of her back.

“Commander,” she said, her tone betraying some surprise at the use of her rank. She gave a tentative smile, and he saw how the right side of her mouth was so tight, smiling pulled her lip down in a grimace. He thought it must be painful.

“I just…you left so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to tell you.” She seemed to flounder for what she wanted to say, and he let her. “I just wanted to let you know that I liked what you said. I don’t remember ever hearing you talk so much before and…sorry, that didn’t come out right.”

“No,” said Kodell, her obvious chagrin making him warm to her despite his internal admonitions. “But, if I were insecure, I’d wonder if you were keeping score.”

“Well, it’s just that I wanted to say that I understand.”

Kodell kept his voice neutral. “Understand what?”

“What you said. About passion, and things like that.”

“I was just talking.” Kodell lifted one shoulder, an offhanded gesture. It was cruel of him; he knew that right away because he saw her surprise, and the way color flooded her cheeks. The scar on her face was so red it looked boiled.

“Oh,” she said, her voice small, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I guess I thought…well, in the mess, you…” She broke off then made a move to back away. “I just thought….”

Instantly, he was ashamed. There was something touching about her, and she was reaching out, making an effort, and he knew, instinctively, that she did this only rarely. Why hurt her?

Because you’re frightened.Not Th’leila’s voice this time, but the very special voice that was no voice at all but the thoughts of the symbiont Bok resonating in his soul. Because she’s wounded, she’s incomplete, and you know precisely how that feels, but she’s brave, and you’re a coward.

“No, please,” he said, almost blurting it out. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. Please, finish what you were saying.”

He saw her indecision. Then she said, “Oh, hell.”

“Pardon?”

She shook her head, exhaled a short false laugh. “I never was very good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“This,” she waved her right hand in the space between them, “small talk. Breaking the ice. I’m horrible, always have been. I do better if I cut to the chase.”

“Cut to the…?”

“Yes, it means get to the point. It’s an Earth saying, back from the days when they made films.”

“Films.”

“Yes, like holos, only they were pictures on celluloid, and the way to keep an audience’s attention was to cut from a scene that was all talk to one that was all action, and…” At the expression on his face, she laughed outright.

This pleased him. “Something’s funny.”

Her black eyes sparkled. “You sound like Glemoor. You know, the way he always wants people to explain their idioms.”

“I’ve noticed that. You think he doesn’t understand?”

Bat-Levi cocked her head to one side. “No, he knows what he’s doing. Remember, he’s tactical. I’ve noticed he always does it when things are really delicate. It’s hard to explain, but I think it’s a sophisticated kind of negotiation. Idioms imply a shared culture, and so when Glemoor asks someone like Castillo to explain, or for help, he’s giving Castillo something. Validation, an advantage that really isn’t one.”

“So you think he appeals to ego.”

“Right. It’s a way of giving something to someone that doesn’t cost you a thing.”

“A good tactic,” said Kodell, and they exchanged smiles. She was a head shorter, and the fact that he had to look down moved him, made him feel protective.