"Now?" Virtamco said, looking pointedly around at the gathering gloom. "Can't it wait until sunlight?"

"I don't think so," Raimey said. "I mean, no, it can't." He braced himself. "I need you to teach me the courtship ritual."

For a long moment Virtamco just stared at him. "You want what?" he asked at last, his tonals practically vibrating the sky with disbelief.

"I need you to teach me the courtship ritual," Raimey repeated, an uncomfortable feeling beginning to chew its way into his hopes and dreams. Virtamco's expression.... "Counselor Latranesto said you would teach me—"

"Are you making a bad joke?" Virtamco demanded.

Raimey jerked back. "No," he said. "No. But Latranesto said—"

"Why, you arrogant, foul-minded, little profaner," Virtamco bit out. "How dare you even think such a thing?"

Raimey had to fight hard to keep from flipping over and swimming away as fast as he possibly could. The sheer weight of the other's disapproval was like being hit in the face by a slashing wind swirl. "I— I—" he stammered.

"Get out of my sight," Virtamco roared, slapping his tails across his fins like he was trying to sweep something disgusting off of them. "Get away, you—you half-breed." He lunged at Raimey, his jaws snapping—

And with his soul wailing inside him, Raimey turned and fled.

He didn't know how long he swam, or even in what direction. All he could see was Virtamco's scandalized face; all he could hear was that horrible, condemning word.

Half-breed.

He would have cried if Qanska had been capable of tears. Half-breed. Because the Protector was right; that was exactly what he was. A half-Qanska, half-human mongrel. A scientifically created perversion of nature.

A monster.

And he'd dared to think Drusni would actually bond with him? Not only was he a monster, he was also a fool.

"Manta!" a voice called from somewhere behind him.

He tensed, his headlong rush suddenly faltering. That voice. Could it really be...?

No. His ears, and his mind, were playing tricks on him.

"Manta, wait up."

He turned around... and if his ears and mind were playing tricks, so were his eyes.

It was Drusni.

"Crosswinds, but you're fast," she panted as she came up to him. "What's going on? Another message from the people in the clouds?"

"No, I—" Raimey broke off, swallowing hard. This was it. He didn't know the proper methods, or the proper words, or the proper anything. But this was his chance. Maybe his only chance. "Drusni...

look, I don't know how to say this. I wish... but I don't. Maybe it doesn't matter."

She had gone very still. "Yes?" she asked softly.

Raimey braced himself. "Drusni... will you... will you bond with me?"

For a long moment she hovered motionlessly, only her fin tips undulating slowly to hold her position in the air. "Wow," she murmured at last. "I don't know what to..."

She took a deep breath. Raimey, for his part, held his. "I'm flattered, Manta," she said softly. "I really am. You're a wonderful person, and a good friend. We've been together a long time, and I love you a lot. If things were different..."

She stopped. "It's all right," Raimey said, feeling a hundred razor-edged Sivran teeth poised at the edges of his heart. "Go ahead."

She moved closer, resting her fin gently on top of his. "But the truth of it is," she said, the words coming out in a rush, "I've already agreed to bond with Pranlo."

Raimey turned away from her. Turned away from that earnest look; eased his skin away from that agonizingly warm touch. "Of course," he managed. "I should have guessed. Congratulations. Or whatever it is you say here."

"I'm sorry, Manta," Drusni said gently, and he could hear some of his own pain echoed in her voice.

"Really." She moved up close behind him and again laid her fin across his.

And as all those phantom Sivran teeth chewed their path of destruction across his heart, something inside him snapped. "Don't touch me," he snarled, slapping her fin violently away from his. "You're happy. Wonderful. Be happy. But be happy somewhere else."

"Please, Manta, don't do this," she pleaded. "If there was any other way—"

"But there isn't, is there?" he snarled. The pain in her voice was twisting though his heart, doubling the agony there. But he no longer cared about pain, or her, or himself. "So go. Go and be happy with Pranlo."

"Manta—"

"I said go!" he thundered, spinning around to glare at her. "I don't ever want to see you again. Ever!"

For a single heartpulse their eyes locked. The last view of those lovely eyes, Raimey knew, that he would ever have.

And then, with a choking sob, she flipped around and drove blindly away into the sundark.

He stared for a long time in the direction she had gone. Perhaps she would return, one last tendril of hope whispered to him. Perhaps after a time she would decide that he was the one she loved the most, and she would say good-bye to Pranlo.

But she didn't come back. As he'd known she wouldn't.

Eventually, he shook himself back to reality. The ninth-parts of the sundark were passing quickly, and soon all those in this part of Jupiter's sky would awaken and begin the day's activities.

He intended to be long gone before that happened.

He dove deep, not leveling off until he was nearly to the bottom of Level Four, as deep as he could force his body to go. Then, turning his left ear into the winds, he headed northward. Most of the Qanska, he knew, kept to the equatorial region of the planet, riding with the winds. Away from that relatively narrow band, there was a lot of unknown and presumably unexplored territory. Plenty of room to lose himself in.

And the sundark hadn't been a total waste. At least now he knew exactly what he was, and how he was perceived. And with that revelation, he also knew what his priorities had to be.

Hesse and Faraday had better get their lab tables cleared off and ready to go. Because one way or another, he was going to get them that stardrive.

And to the Deep with the Qanska. All of them.

The Protector was a big one, nearly twice as long as Raimey, with a skin that was so lumpy and scarred he was almost unrecognizable as a Qanska. Clearly, he'd been in a lot of fights throughout his lifetime.

And unless Raimey did something quick, he was going to be in one more.

"I asked you a question, Breeder," the Protector rumbled warningly. "What in Pakra worms do you think you're doing in my drokmur patch?"

"I'm sorry, Protector," Raimey said, fighting to control the trembling in his voice. The shaking wasn't so much fear—though there was some of that, too—but simple hunger. He hadn't found anything to eat in the past four days, and his whole body was starting to shake in reaction.

And of course, now that he had finally found food, he'd also found a crazed Protector who seemed to think he owned it.

Which was blatantly unlawful, of course. But here, several ninedays' journey north of the equator and the center of Qanskan culture and authority, laws were apparently only followed when it was convenient.

"Well?" the Protector demanded. "What are you waiting for?"

"I'm very hungry, sir," Raimey said, the trembling even worse now. Simple hunger; but of course, the Protector would assume it was fear.

And why on Jupiter should he bother to give away any of his precious drokmur to a Breeder who was obviously scared to death of him?

Apparently, the Protector couldn't think of a reason, either. "Then go find yourself some food," the other growled. "But do it somewhere else. Now go away, or I'll give you more than just your belly to worry about."

Raimey thought longingly of the days with Tigrallo, or even those with Virtamco. If he'd had a Protector of his own here to back him up...