“Buddy?”

“Old moan-’n’-groan. Speaker-Between.”

Graves was on his feet at once. “What is he doing there?” But he did not wait for an answer. He was blundering out of the chamber, shouting to Lang and Rebka, who were deep in private conversation. “Professor! Captain! He is here. Now is our chance.”

“Chance for what?” Hans Rebka had been busy telling age-old lies to Darya Lang, with her thorough approval. But again Graves did not wait for an answer. He allowed Nenda to lead him through the nearest chambers, while the rest of the group followed at their own pace.

Nenda’s statement had been partly true. The Builder construct was half-visible, just the tail and lower part of the silver body. The upper part was presumably there, but it was hidden by the ceiling of the room, fifteen meters above their heads.

Graves listened to Nenda’s description in total frustration. “But if he’s stuck up there, how the devil am I supposed to—”

“Easy.” Nenda nodded to Kallik, who had entered with Atvar H’sial and J’merlia. “Go get ’em.”

The Hymenopt crouched on seven limbs — the lost eighth was regrowing fast, and nearly a foot long — and sprang straight up. She grabbed and swung on Speaker-Between’s barbed tail. After a few seconds, they both began to descend.

“The Zardalu are gone.” Graves started to speak even before Speaker-Between’s flower-petal head was fully in view. “But it is of paramount importance that we follow them — at once!”

“If you would kindly release my tail…” The silver pentagon turned slowly to face Graves. “Your request cannot be fulfilled. The Zardalu indeed are gone. I therefore judge that they are losers. You were able to defeat and banish them. But the evaluation is not yet over. Is it necessary to remind you that there can be only one species judged fit to work with the Builders? I would be derelict in my own duties should I halt this evaluation before it is complete.”

“You do not understand. Can you guarantee that the Zardalu were all killed when they entered the vortex?”

“One moment.” Speaker-Between coalesced to a sphere, then just as rapidly rippled back to form the horned and tailed chimera. “That question is not easy to answer,” he said when he was fully reconstructed. “The Zardalu suffered an unstructured transition. It is not one that is highly forbidden, and therefore it is not inevitably fatal. The Zardalu could have survived it. They may be alive. They may be all dead. What is the relevance of the question?”

“To you, perhaps very little. To us, and to all intelligences of the spiral arm, it is very great. If there is a chance that the Zardalu survive, it is imperative that we return to alert our fellows.”

“Imperative to whom? It is not imperative to me, or to my masters.” Speaker-Between floated toward Julius Graves, settling close enough for the councilor to reach out and touch him. “You do not appear to understand. There is no technical difficulty in returning you to your homes, or to any location in the spiral arm or out of it; and it may be possible to determine where the Zardalu went, though that is less sure. But those issues are academic. I say again, the selection procedure is not complete. There remain both humans and Cecropians. Until only one remains, it is not permitted for you to leave.”

“Hopeless.” Graves turned to the others. “Totally hopeless. I have worked with a score of intelligences, through the whole of the spiral arm, but with this — this silver bubble-brain there can be no meeting of minds, no basis for negotiation.”

“Mebbe. And mebbe not.” Louis Nenda glanced around at the others. “D’you agree with the councilor? Nothin’ to lose, nothin’ to gain? ’Cause if you do, mind if I take a shot?”

“Go ahead.” Hans Rebka had a little grin on his face. “Try your thing.”

“All right.” Nenda walked over to stand right in front of Speaker-Between. “The selection procedure isn’t over, you say. I’ll buy that. But the Zardalu are out of it, so it’s just between two species. Cecropians, and humans. Right?”

“That is a correct conclusion.”

“And it doesn’t matter how many humans and Cecropians fight it out, does it? You were quite happy to leave us to tackle fourteen Zardalu, even though there were only a handful of humans, and a couple of aliens.”

“In our experience, the number of entities is rarely the deciding factor.”

“Fair enough. So the selection could be done just as well if there was only one of each — one human, and one Cecropian?”

“That is wholly reasonable.”

“All right, then. So what’s the point of keeping this whole crazy roster? Let the rest go — and keep just two of us. Me and Atvar H’sial. We’ll fight it out between us.”

“No.” Graves was shaking his head violently. “That is a sacrifice that I will not ask of anyone. To leave you here, while the rest of us return to safety, it would be—”

“Hey, what do you mean, safety? Goin’ back is different for me and At than for the rest of you. Look what happens to us when we get there. We’re charged with serious crimes the minute we hit civilization, and next thing you know we’re jailed or brain-wiped. Not much fun in that.

“I am the person who brought those charges.” Graves’s skeletal face bore an expression of anguish. “I will petition to have them dropped. After what you and Atvar H’sial did, to save us from the Zardalu—”

“You can petition, sure you can. Maybe that’ll get us off the hook. But maybe it won’t. Seems to me, At and yours truly ain’t much worse off here than we are there. For the rest of you, it’s a different story. You get to go back home, and write your nice little reports on everything that happened. Chase the Zardalu, too, if there’s time left over and they didn’t fly ass-over-tentacle up their own wazoo. But me.” He shrugged.

The flower head was nodding. “Your internal disputes are not germane to my decision. However, the proposal you make is acceptable. If one human and one Cecropian remain to complete the selection process, the rest may return to the spiral arm. It can be to your most recent departure point, or to any other place of your choosing. If you wish it, and if I can ascertain it, your destination can even be the final arrival point of the Zardalu — assuming that location is able to support life.”

“No, thanks.” Rebka cut off discussion, just as Graves was about to start up again. “We have to warn other people before we start chasing. We’ll go back to somewhere safe.”

He turned to Louis Nenda. “As for you… I don’t usually find it hard to know what to say. But you’ve got me this time. All I can think of is, thanks — from all of us. And pass that thank-you on to Atvar H’sial.”

Nenda grinned. “I will, in a minute. First I’ve got to explain to At what she just volunteered for.”

Graves stared at him pop-eyed. “You are joking, aren’t you? Atvar H’sial already gave her approval for your proposal.”

“Sure. Sure I’m joking.” Nenda was turning casually away. “Don’t worry about it. No problem.”

But Kallik was stepping forward. “So it is settled, then. The rest will return. And Atvar H’sial, Louis Nenda, and their loyal servants, Kallik and J’merlia, will remain.”

“Whoa, now.” Nenda held up his hand. “I never said that.” He looked at Speaker-Between and Hans Rebka. “If you don’t mind, At and I and J’merlia and Kallik need a few words in private. Five minutes?”

He ushered the other three out of the chamber at once, not waiting for a nod of assent.

“You see, Kallik.” His voice was oddly gentle as they came to a smaller room, out of earshot of the others. “You have to understand the situation. Things are different now. Not like what they was, back in the good old days before we went to Quake. They’ve changed. And you’ve changed, you and J’merlia. I’ve been translating for Atvar H’sial as we go, and she agrees with me completely. It wouldn’t be right for you to be slaves anymore — either of you.”