“Surely, I know enough math! You got it all from my mind.”

“Just words I don’t have the concepts for!” Waving his hand in a gesture Titus recognized from a favorite physics professor he’d had for three courses, H’lim continued, “The difference between what you and Inea have and an orl-tie must be at the ectoplasmic/Influential interface.” He wagged a slender white finger at Inea. “If you knew how, you could augment Titus’s power to Influence! No orl could ever do that! But I’d wager it can’t be done to a genetically purebred luren.

“Even without access to my library, I swear there’s nothing else like it anywhere. But there really isn’t so much on the genetics of consciousness or the conservation of volition-”

Genetics of consciousness? Sometimes H’lim put words together grammatically and still uttered nonsense. As usual when that happened, he lapsed into luren terms. This time, as he paced back and forth, his lecture sounded like a physics lesson on the relationship between space and time, conscious will, metaphorical vision, and the life force. At the same time he seemed to be talking about the evolution of human brain chemistry as the result of the “genetics of volition.” He mixed up orl-tying with ectoplasm absorption and cross-linked them to Influence, but Titus only understood every third word, and missed half the tenses. He can’t be saying that all of Earth’s biology is the product genetic engineering, that the nature of human brain chemistry done to us!

“Which is of course,” concluded H’lim, “why human stringers having sex with each other is insufficient to replenish the human, and the luren must service his string.”

“Of course,” said Titus dazedly in the luren language, glad Inea didn’t know a word of it. How could he ask all the questions surging into his mind?

H’lim came out of his creative reverie, and reverted to English. “So now you understand, Titus, why you don’t have to be afraid. She can defend herself handily.”

“Against what?” asked Inea blankly.

“Against Titus.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Or against Abbot, or any Earth luren.” He shrugged.

Titus interrupted, “H’lim, you’re a galactic-class geneticist, not an Aikido instructor. She may have the genetic potential, but she doesn’t know how to use it and there’s no teacher. Besides, I don’t attack people I love, and that’s that. I won’t take any more of her blood.”

“That’s beside the point. Don’t you see, this means Earth might become the richest planet in the galaxy! What we have here is genetic coding for enhancing-oh, I don’t know your terms! Just take my word for it, this could be the key to a giant leap forward in space-faring technology. It’s so basic, it could solve the biggest riddle in the galaxy. But even if we can’t work out the applications immediately, it’s sure to win the w-” He broke off to stare into infinity.

“Sure to what?” prompted Titus. His mind was spinning. He’d just gotten more information out of H’lim in the last ten minutes than he had in the previous ten days, but he felt less informed than at the moment he’d fathered the alien.

H’lim is an ambitious adventurer who is working everything out as he goes along. But that assessment told him nothing except what he’d already known. He didn’t dare trust H’lim’s word that it was safe to send his message. It was a good thing that he’d pulled out Abbot’s Array transmitter.

“Never mind,” shrugged H’lim. “There’s something so hauntingly familiar about this genetic algorithm, or maybe its just some random association it keeps triggering off when I try to translate human/Earth luren gene structure into other notation systems. I know I’ve never seen anything like this before, and yet. . Well, perhaps it’s a word you gave me that I don’t have a concept for, or some Earth-evolved redefinition of one of your luren words.” He paced away.

“None of that matters, Titus. One thing is straightforward.” From the refrigerator he extracted a flask of clear purple fluid labeled only with a strange luren symbol. “Finally, it’s ready for testing! Considering what I’ve just learned about your biochemistry, it ought to work on the humans and you, maybe on Abbot, too, if he’ll try it.”

Inea cried, “We’ve made it! We’ve won!”

In her jubilation she spun Titus around in a low-grav dance. Titus stopped her. “H’lim, your message didn’t go out as Abbot planned. I’ve destroyed the transmitter he embedded in the Eighth.”

“Because of what I told Inea to do for you?”

“No. Before that.” He eyed the purple fluid. “You don’t owe me any more help.”

H’lim leaned against the refrigerator as if he needed the support. He swirled the flask thoughtfully. “I didn’t make this to bribe you into betraying your oath and your conscience. I knew you opposed Abbot, and I didn’t expect you to change your mind. I just hoped he might win-not an absurd hope since he’s your First Father, but by no means a certainty. My filial duty does not derive from my chance of getting home, but only from the renewal of my life.”

The ache of dashed hopes was plain enough as H’lim added, “I’m ready to test this whenever you are. I need a volunteer, but we must go carefully. I don’t want a repeat of the orl blood disaster if I’ve missed something else.”

“I volunteer,” said Inea. When Titus strangled on his objection, she added, “Titus, he’s already tested it on human ”one marrow the surgeons supplied and it increased blood Production. It’d be a big to-do to get bone marrow from you or Abbot without anyone knowing, so test it on me first!“

“It doesn’t make sense to risk the life of someone whose life isn’t at risk to begin with,” argued Titus. “If you had a bad reaction, how could we explain it to Biomed? Abbot’s a genius at covering for us, but they’re getting awfully close.” Abbot’s method of coping with the new anti-hypnotic conditioning had been pure desperation and Titus knew it.

Abruptly, H’lim shoved the flask into the refrigerator. Titus didn’t like the thoughtful frown that flickered across Inea’s features. He’d seen that look before and it made him very nervous. But before he could say anything, H’lim announced, “Someone’s coming.” He turned on the recorders just as Colby arrived at the head of an entourage.

As she introduced the engineers and physicists who hadn’t met H’lim before, Inea left the luren in Titus’s care saying, “I have to log some gym time or Biomed will be all over me. I skipped yesterday, and skimped the day before.”

Titus had no chance to reply because everyone was talking to him, as if he had to translate to make H’lim understand what they wanted of him. He held up his hands for silence, then said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present Dr. Sa’ar, H’lim.” Feeling a bit foolish, he turned to H’lim. “I never have discovered which name actually comes first, family or given.”

H’lim laughed, breaking the ice easily. “Actually, neither, but the rest of my designation is irrelevant. My family name is Sa’ar, my given name H’lim, and you may use them as you see fit.”

With that said, they began “Dr. Sa’ar-ing” him from every direction on topics ranging from computer conventions to Kylyd’s drive assembly and power plant.

Colby shouted the babble down. “We came here, H’lim, to take you on your oft requested and oft promised tour of your ship.” With that, someone walked a spacesuit forward that had H. SA’AR stenciled on the helmet.

“Now?!” exclaimed H’lim glancing at Titus in a panic.

Shit! It’s daylight out there!

“I doubt there’s any danger of us being bombed today,” said Colby. “I regret we’ve put it off this long, but your suit has just been finished. The outcome of the war may end our investigations, and though your lab work promises to change minds back on Earth, still we mustn’t overlook the chance that you may know something about the ship that will trigger even more impressive advances.”