16

Thrr-gilag took a deep breath, savoring the sharp-salty air as he gazed past the sea rock and tried to guess which of those incoming lines of white-capped wave fronts would be the next spectacular splash. And tried not to think of what might be happening, without him, back there in the Klnn family hall.

"Composing poetry?" a familiar voice called from behind him.

Thrr-gilag turned. Dressed in full formal Klnn family attire, Klnn-dawan-a's brother Klnn-torun was making his careful and precise way across the last few strides of rock-strewn beach that separated them. "What makes you think I'd be composing poetry?" Thrr-gilag called back over the roar of the waves.

"I thought you were the sort of person who might do that sort of thing," Klnn-torun said. "Especially standing here looking out at the ocean."

"Typical Klnn smugness," Thrr-gilag said. "What makes you think the hills and streams of the Thrr family territory can't compare with this puny ocean of yours?"

Klnn-torun frowned slightly. "Can they?"

Thrr-gilag smiled, flicking his tongue in a negative. "Not a chance."

"Ah." Klnn-torun's face cleared. "I didn't think so. You had me worried, though."

Thrr-gilag looked back at the sea rock, just in time to catch a minor wave splash at its edge. "How about you?" he asked. "You ever write poetry about the ocean?"

"Not really," Klnn-torun said. "I tried a few times, back when I was younger. But I could never come up with anything that sounded any good. I guess my mind just doesn't work that way."

Thrr-gilag shrugged. "To tell you the truth, neither does mine."

"Oh, come on." Klnn-torun frowned. "What about those three poems you wrote for Klnn-dawan-a right after you two met?"

Thrr-gilag eyed him suspiciously. "She didn't let you see those, did she?"

"Oh, no, she just read me some of the highlights," Klnn-torun assured him. "Really, I thought they were very good. Smooth and quite poetic."

"I'm glad I fooled you," Thrr-gilag said, snorting gently. "Truth is, I sweated blood over those things and still never really got them the way I wanted. I'm just glad they caught her attention before I had to write too many more of them. I'm still half-convinced she started seeing me out of sheer pity."

"Hardly," Klnn-torun said with a faint smile. "No, she was most impressed by them. And by you, too, of course."

"Not half as impressed as I was of her," Thrr-gilag murmured, looking over his shoulder. The Klnn family meeting hall towered back there behind him, its rock-faced walls blending almost seamlessly with the bluff on which it had been built. Klnn-dawan-a was up there right now, standing before the family and clan leaders. Trying to win them over the way she had won over her brother and parents.

And trying to do so all alone. They hadn't allowed Thrr-gilag in; nor had they allowed Klnn-torun or her parents or any of her closest friends to stand with her. There was nothing any of them could do but sit in the waiting gallery or wander around outside, wondering what was happening in the chambers and waiting for the family leaders to summon them back in. The whole stupid, outdated single-trial procedure—

"I heard about your father's being raised to Eldership half a cyclic ago," Klnn-torun said. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to attend his welcoming ceremony. We were right in the middle of a sudden influx of shahbba beetles, and we needed everyone we had to drive them off."

"That's all right," Thrr-gilag said, feeling a fresh twist of old guilt. "As it happens, I didn't make it, either. I was out on an archaeology dig when it happened, and with our extremely limited transportation arrangements I just wasn't able to get back."

"Yes, Klnn-dawan-a once missed an uncle's ceremony the same way," Klnn-torun said. "How's Thrr't-rokik adapting to life as an Elder?"

"Reasonably well, I think," Thrr-gilag said. He nodded toward the ocean. "Though his biggest goal these fullarcs seems to be to try to get a shrine set up near the Amt'bri River so that he can hear running water. Imagine what he'd want if he saw this."

"I don't have to imagine," Klnn-torun said grimly. "The Dhaa'rr leaders are already up to their tongues in demands to allow cutting pyramids along the seashore."

"Really," Thrr-gilag said, looking around. Aside from the Klnn family hall, there were only a handful of other buildings visible. "I guess I'm surprised it isn't a solid wall of shrines already."

"Actually, you'd never get shrines themselves put up here," Klnn-torun told him. "Salt air has always been considered too dangerous to fsss organs for anyone to risk putting an actual shrine near the shore."

"Ah," Thrr-gilag said, nodding his understanding. "But that's not such a problem when all you're dealing with is cuttings."

"Right," Klnn-torun said. "And the more this cutting idea has caught on, the louder the demands have become."

Thrr-gilag looked back at the ocean. "Well, at least here on Dharanv you have a whole planet's worth of territory to spread out over. Those of us whose clan centers are still crammed together on Oaccanv don't have that same advantage."

"Maybe," Klnn-torun said. "But even here it's not as easy as you might think. All the most popular and spectacular sites are already owned, either by families or individuals. Many of the spots have been extensively developed."

"And none of the owners want bored Elders hanging around looking over their shoulders."

"You got it." Klnn-torun stroked pensively at the side of his face. "You know, Thrr-gilag, to be perfectly honest, I'm beginning to worry about all this. Starting to wonder if things may be getting out of hand."

"How so?"

"Well..." Klnn-torun hesitated. "Have you ever studied Zhirrzh history? Really studied it, I mean?"

Thrr-gilag shrugged. "I had the usual courses, plus a few," he said. "Nothing extensive."

"I studied it quite a bit," Klnn-torun said. "Especially the Eldership wars."

"Really." Thrr-gilag eyed him. "I wouldn't have thought of you as the warfare-studying type."

Klnn-torun shrugged. "Just because I try to avoid conflict in my own dealings doesn't mean I shouldn't be interested in reading about it. In fact, I'd venture to say that a desire to avoid conflict would give a Zhirrzh an extra incentive to learn about its causes."

"And logically so," Thrr-gilag agreed. "So what cause of conflict from history are we talking about here?"

Klnn-torun looked back up at the Klnn-family hall. "Are you aware that it was exactly this same competition between Elders and physicals for territory that sparked the Third Eldership War?"

Thrr-gilag frowned, thinking back to his own history courses. "Well... it wasn't exactly the same situation. For one thing, we were all stuck on Oaccanv back then. Now we've got seventeen other worlds to spread out on."

"Which I presume is the main reason it's taken us five hundred cyclics to reach this point again instead of the three hundred we got between the Second and Third Wars," Klnn-torun pointed out. "But there's another factor now that's been added into the mix. Back then people were much more used to having Elders around them all the time, their presence woven into the fabric of their lives. Now, suddenly, our culture seems to be obsessed with privacy and solitude—obsessed to the point of hostility, sometimes. We don't want anyone too close to us; we especially don't want Elders close to us. There's increasing pressure to put shrines and cutting pyramids way out somewhere where they can't reach cities or even major towns. At least on Dharanv the areas that are inaccessible to Elders are being developed at a tremendous rate. It doesn't make any sense."

"Actually, it does," Thrr-gilag said thoughtfully. "What you're seeing here is an underlying cultural shift. Five hundred cyclics ago people generally stayed their whole lives in one spot, with the only Elders around being those from their own family. Familiar, friendly, comfortable. Now, with all this cross-territory and interstellar mobility we've picked up over the past hundred cyclics or so, you can never know who's nearby or who might be watching over your shoulder. That makes people nervous. People who are nervous long enough often start getting hostile and resentful."

"You're right," Klnn-torun said thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought about that."

"Well, I've had a little more training in all this cultural stuff," Thrr-gilag told him. "Plus the fact that I live that way myself more than you do. Living and working with your family's old orchards, you're much more connected to the way Zhirrzh culture used to be."

"Yes, I see that," Klnn-torun said. "Oh, and that's another factor: with all these new cutting pyramids the Elders themselves are also less connected to the family lands than they used to be." He frowned. "Actually, that might make my point even more valid."

"That point being?" Thrr-gilag asked.

Klnn-torun's tail twitched. "That it seems to me the Elders have a great deal to gain from a war of conquest against the Human-Conquerors."

Thrr-gilag stared at him, the magnificent ocean scenery abruptly forgotten. "What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it," Klnn-torun said. "Every planet we're able to take from the Human-Conquerors is one more world the Elders have to expand into. More variety, more scenery—more room in general."

"You aren't seriously suggesting anyone would start a war over scenery, are you?"

"No, of course not," Klnn-torun said. "At least, not specifically for scenery. But we're talking territory, and that's always been one of the big driving forces behind conflict. And don't forget, what Elders want even more than scenic places to live is something to do. Every new world opens up that many more jobs for them, from communication pathways on up."

Thrr-gilag looked back up at the Klnn family hall behind them, thinking about the world he and Klnn-dawan-a had just come from. When the Zhirrzh and Chig had run into each other two hundred cyclics ago, the Chig had had colonies in two other star systems and had begun the exploration of two others. The subsequent war had pushed them back to their home world of Gree, guarded ever since then by Zhirrzh encirclement forces.

And their other four colonies were now part of the eighteen worlds. With thousands of Zhirrzh, and dozens of cutting pyramids scattered across them.

"I know it sounds unbelievable," Klnn-torun said into his thoughts.

"Well, yes, it does," Thrr-gilag said. "For one thing, you have to assume a massive conspiracy to make it work, with virtually every Elder in on it. You have to admit that's pretty unlikely."

"Under normal circumstances, certainly," Klnn-torun said. "We all know how fast information and rumors percolate through the Elder community. But there are times when a particular bit of information is controlled by a bare handful of Elders. Klnn-dwan-a's study group on Gree is a good example. She told me that despite the fact that your father had already heard about the threat to your bond-engagement, her own Elders hadn't said a word to her about it. You had to fly out personally and tell her."

Thrr-gilag looked out at the ocean, his suddenly contracted pupils not really seeing any of it. The whole philosophical basis of this war was that the Humans were an aggressive conqueror race who had deliberately and ruthlessly fired on four peaceful Zhirrzh survey ships with Elderdeath weapons. And the sole source of that assertion was the statements of the eight Elder communicators who'd been aboard those survey ships.

Thrr-gilag had heard their statement firsthand from Bvee't-hibbin back on Oaccanv. He'd assumed then that the Elder could have no possible reason to lie about it.

But what if Klnn-torun was right? What if Bvee't-hibbin had had a reason to lie? What if the Human prisoner Pheylan Cavanagh had been telling the truth about that battle?

What if the Zhirrzh had in fact started this war?

"You're very quiet," Klnn-torun prompted.

Slowly, Thrr-gilag forced his mind back on track. Was Klnn-torun thinking along these same lines? Probably. An orchard-tender wasn't exactly a prestigious profession, but Klnn-torun was considerably smarter than the usual stereotypes would suggest. Should Thrr-gilag tell him about that conversation with Bvee't-hibbin? And perhaps also about Pheylan Cavanagh's claims?

But neither of them had any proof of all this... and there were Elders up there at the Klnn family hall who could easily be listening in on this conversation. "It's an interesting speculation," he said instead. "And I'll certainly concede that there are probably Elders here and there who slant things or even some who tell outright lies. But I'm afraid I can't buy any suggestion that there's a conspiracy of Elders out there. Even a small conspiracy."

"I see." For a long beat Klnn-torun seemed to be studying his face. Then, with deliberate casualness, he turned back to look at the ocean. "Well, you're the expert on cultures, I suppose. You'd know best."

"Um," Thrr-gilag said noncommittally, looking at the ocean himself and wishing like blazes he knew what Klnn-torun was thinking right now. Was he taking what Thrr-gilag had just said at face value? Or was he simply playing along with what he perceived to be a subtle, between-the-lines concurrence with his conspiracy theory?

An Elder appeared. "Klnn-torun?" he called, his voice faint over the noise of the waves. "You are summoned to the hall."

"I understand," Klnn-torun said. "What about Thrr-gilag?"

A faint flicker of disgust crossed the Elder's face. "He can come, too," he said grudgingly. "But be quick about it, both of you. They're waiting."

He vanished. "Don't let him rattle you," Klnn-torun advised Thrr-gilag as the two of them started back across the rocky beach. "If they've just called us, they can hardly have been waiting very long."

"Yes," Thrr-gilag said, his tail spinning hard even in the cool sea air. This was it. The judgment of the family and Dhaa'rr clan leaders on him and Klnn-dawan-a.

"Thrr-gilag; Kee'rr?" a voice murmured in his ear.

Thrr-gilag turned, leaning his head to the side to try to focus on the Elder hugging close at his side. A female, no one he recognized. "Yes?"

"Shh!" she said urgently before vanishing.

"What was that?" Klnn-torun asked, turning to look at him.

"Ah—nothing," Thrr-gilag said, frowning to himself as he glanced around. Clearly, that Elder wanted to talk to him, and to him alone. Something having to do with Klnn-dawan-a? "Look, why don't you go on ahead," he told Klnn-torun. "I'll catch up in a hunbeat."

Klnn-torun looked puzzled, but he nodded. "All right," he said. "Don't be long."

He headed off, hunching forward a little as he labored uphill through the sand. Thrr-gilag glanced around, then stepped over into the lee side of a sea-grass-coated boulder and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. A few beats later the Elder was back. "I'm sorry for this," she said, her face a mirror of rapidly shifting emotions. "Really, I am. Actually, I shouldn't even be talking to you—I mean, you're not even Dhaa'rr, and—"

"It's all right," Thrr-gilag interrupted soothingly. "Besides, anything that concerns Klnn-dawan-a is something I have a right to know about."

The Elder blinked in surprise. "Klnn-dawan-a? This isn't about Klnn-dawan-a. It's about Prr't-zevisti."

Thrr-gilag drew back a little toward his boulder. "I see," he said carefully.

"No, you don't," the Elder said, her face and voice flashing sudden anger and frustration. "You don't understand at all. Or maybe you don't even care that they're going to take away his last chance. His very last chance. Don't you care about that?"

"Hold it," Thrr-gilag protested, holding up a hand. "Just wait a beat, please. I'm afraid you've lost me. Who are you, and who's trying to take away whose last chance?"

The Elder closed her eyes briefly. "My name is Prr't-casst-a. I'm Prr't-zevisti's wife. The one who was lost on the Human-Conqueror world of Dorcas."

"Yes, I know who he was," Thrr-gilag said with a quiet sigh. So Prr't-zevisti's wife was here. Probably one of those sitting in judgment on him and Klnn-dawan-a. Terrific.

"Not was, "she snapped, her face flashing the anger and frustration again. "Not was. Is! He's not dead, Thrr-gilag. I know he isn't. He can't be."

Thrr-gilag winced. "Look, Prr't-casst-a, I know how you feel. But—"

"Just be quiet," she cut him off. "Be quiet, and listen to me. The Dhaa'rr leaders have decided to call final rites for Prr't-zevisti three fullarcs from now. Including the ceremony of fire."

A shiver ran through Thrr-gilag. The ceremony of fire: the ritual of destruction of a dead Elder's fsss organ. It didn't happen all that often anymore, but when it did, it was always traumatic for those involved. The final act of farewell to one who would never be seen again...

He frowned suddenly, the timing here belatedly catching up with him. "Wait a hunbeat. Final rites already? It's been only, what, ten fullarcs or so?"

"Twelve," Prr't-casst-a said. "That's all. Just twelve fullarcs since he's been seen."

"That doesn't seem nearly long enough," Thrr-gilag said. "Certainly not to make a final declaration of death. What reason are the clan leaders giving for it?"

Prr't-casst-a waved a hand helplessly. "They invoked some ancient law of the Dhaa'rr. Something obscure that laid out fifteen fullarcs without contact as being the proper waiting period."

"Doesn't seem long enough," Thrr-gilag said again, trying to remember if he'd ever heard of the Kee'rr having anything similar in their legal structure. But he couldn't. "Must be really ancient, though. Before preservation methods were even halfway reliable."

"That's exactly right," Prr't-casst-a agreed. "I asked one of my family to look it up. He couldn't find it in any legal documents created since the time the Dhaa'rr moved off Oaccanv onto Dharanv."

Which made the law at least 350 cyclics old. Hardly the sort of law invoked twice a fullarc as a matter of course. "So why are they doing it?"

"I don't know," Prr't-casst-a said, a look of pain and helplessness settling onto her face. "They won't tell me anything. The servers just repeat the law to me, and say that the ancient traditions of the Dhaa'rr must be maintained. The clan leaders won't talk to me at all."

"There's probably more than just tradition at work here, then," Thrr-gilag said grimly. "Sounds to me like something political."

"I think you're right," Prr't-casst-a said. "That's why I came to you. You're not of Dhaa'rr politics. And yet you must care about the Dhaa'rr—otherwise, why would you bond with a Dhaa'rr? But I don't have much time. Prr't-zevisti doesn't have much time. Can you do anything to help us?"

Thrr-gilag looked at her agitated face, feeling a wave of understanding for this part of his mother's fear of Eldership. To be alive and aware, yet so fundamentally powerless.

But Thrr-gilag was hardly in a position to do anything himself.

But how could he just refuse her?

"I'll try," he sighed. "I'll do whatever—well, I'll try."

"Thank you," Prr't-casst-a breathed. Already she seemed calmer. "What will you do first?"

"First thing we need is a better idea of what's really going on," Thrr-gilag told her, glancing across the beach. Klnn-torun was nearly to the first line of scrub plants, dotting the sand a few strides beyond the high-water mark. "I've got an idea, but right now I have to get to the meeting hall and hear what the Klnn and Dhaa'rr leaders have decided to do about Klnn-dawan-a and me. Do you have a cutting nearby?"

"No, my family shrine is near a town thirty thoustrides inland from here."

"All right," Thrr-gilag said. "Let's set it up this way. Half a tentharc after the hearing is over, we'll meet back here on the beach."

"There's a small cave over in that headland," Prr't-casst-a suggested, pointing to a rocky finger of land jutting out into the waves a couple hundred strides down the beach. "It would give you a little shelter, at least."

"Sounds good," Thrr-gilag agreed. "We'll meet at the cave. Now, the next part's up to you. Between now and then, you'll need to find me a secure pathway to my brother. Commander Thrr-mezaz, commanding the ground warriors on Dorcas."

"I can do that," Prr't-casst-a said. "Yes, I can do that."

"And I mean really secure," Thrr-gilag warned. "The fewer Elders who are in on this conversation, the better. And they all have to be good friends of yours, who can be trusted not to let anything we say slip out to anyone else. If the Dhaa'rr leaders get wind that you're talking to me about this, it'll be the end of any chance for Klnn-dawan-a and me."

"Oh," Prr't-casst-a said, suddenly looking stricken. "I hadn't even thought about that. I'm sorry. I—I don't—"

"It's all right," Thrr-gilag soothed her. "Just be sure the pathway is secure."

"It will be," Prr't-casst-a said. "I promise on my life. It will be. I... thank you, Thrr-gilag."

She vanished. "You're welcome," Thrr-gilag murmured to the ocean breezes. Already he didn't like the feel of this whole thing, and particularly not the assumption that he was going to get involved any deeper in it.

But it wouldn't hurt to discuss the situation with Thrr-mezaz. He might have some information, maybe even some ideas.

In the meantime, one crisis at a time. Bracing himself, he headed across the beach toward the Klnn-family hall.


Prr't-casst-a had described their rendezvous point as a cave. To Thrr-gilag's mind it was much less a cave than it was a small carved indentation in the rock facing the ocean. It was also damp, noisy, and smelled of rotting sea grass.

But the waves that continually lapped at the opening would help insure that no one disturbed their conversation, while the noise of those same waves would pretty well guarantee that no Elders would be able to eavesdrop unnoticed.

Prr't-casst-a was already waiting when Thrr-gilag and Klnn-dawan-a arrived. So was her pathway.

So, to Thrr-gilag's surprise, was Thrr-mezaz. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting, my brother," Thrr-gilag said after they'd exchanged greetings. "I wasn't intending the pathway to be opened until I got here."

He nodded to Prr't-casst-a. "Go ahead," he prompted.

"Oh. Yes," she said, and vanished.

"I doubt she's ever done either end of a communication before," Klnn-dawan-a commented, looking around the cave.

"She'll pick it up," Thrr-gilag assured her. "I'm more worried about the security of this pathway of hers." He looked around the cave, too. "Or that one of the leaders up there will get curious and send an Elder down to investigate."

"I doubt anyone will be bothering with us right now," Klnn-dawan-a said. "The way they were talking—"

Prr't-casst-a reappeared. " 'No problem, my brother,' " she quoted. " 'It's latearc here, and I wasn't doing anything constructive anyway. Just trying to figure out what your Human-Conquerors might be up to.' " Prr't-casst-a frowned in concentration. "Just a beat... oh, right. 'But first things first. What happened with you and Klnn-dawan-a and the hearing?' "

"A thorough anticlimax," Thrr-gilag said. "They gave Klnn-dawan-a the full spectrum of questions, threw about a half spectrum at me, and then said they'd think about it for a few more fullarcs."

Prr't-casst-a nodded and vanished. "I didn't get a chance to ask you if you were able to read anything from them," Thrr-gilag commented to Klnn-dawan-a.

"Nothing I'm sure of," she said. "I get the feeling that the Klnn leaders themselves have no real problems with our bonding, but that they feel they have to submit to the wishes of the Dhaa'rr leaders."

"Interesting," Thrr-gilag said. "I got the impression that both the Klnn and Dhaa'rr leaders were instead being pushed by their Elders."

There was a flicker, and Prr't-casst-a was back. " 'Well, I suppose it's better than a straight-out no,' " she said. " 'Now. What's all this about?' "

"We have a problem here," Thrr-gilag said. "I've learned that the Dhaa'rr leaders are planning final rites for Prr't-zevisti, including the ceremony of fire. I suppose my question is whether you've found conclusive proof out there that he is in fact dead."

Prr't-casst-a's face was pinched with quiet agony, but she vanished without a word. "You think that's what's happened?" Klnn-dawan-a asked.

"It's either that or something political," Thrr-gilag said. "I haven't been able to come up with any other options."

Klnn-dawan-a shivered, hugging herself against the cold and damp. "It's frightening to think about people playing politics with other people's lives."

Thrr-gilag pressed his tongue hard against the top of his mouth, his thoughts flicking back to his conversation with Klnn-torun. "Yes," he murmured. "It is."

Prr't-casst-a reappeared... and even before she began to speak, Thrr-gilag knew something had happened. The fear that had been on her face when she left had been replaced by something hard and cold. " 'The situation out here has changed, all right,' " she said. " 'But it has nothing to do with any evidence of death. What's happened is that I've petitioned the Prr family to send me a second cutting from Prr't-zevisti's fsss organ.' "

Thrr-gilag threw a startled look at Klnn-dawan-a. "A second cutting? What for?"

"Wait a beat, there's more," Prr't-casst-a said. "Mm—'It occurred to me that if Prr't-zevisti was trapped somehow up in the Human-Conqueror stronghold, then our best chance of getting him out would be to move another cutting into range nearby.' "

"That's going to be a little tricky, isn't it?" Thrr-gilag asked. "Hauling a pyramid up a mountain isn't exactly easy."

Prr't-casst-a vanished. When she returned, there was yet another new expression on her face. " 'Actually, I had something else in mind,' " she quoted, her voice tight but firm. " 'I was thinking—and you and Prr't-casst-a would need to talk about this—that instead of using a pyramid we could perhaps just put the cutting in a small airtight and predator-proof container.' "

Klnn-dawan-a muttered something under her breath. Thrr-gilag frowned at Prr't-casst-a, trying without success to read her expression. "What do you think, Prr't-casst-a?" he asked.

"It's a terrible idea," she said, her voice trembling. "Completely and utterly disrespectful. A violation of everything civilized that the Dhaa'rr and the Prr have ever stood for." She seemed to brace herself. "But if it's the only way to get Prr't-zevisti back... then, yes, let's do it."

Thrr-gilag looked at Klnn-dawan-a. "Don't look at me," she said, holding up her hands. "It's not my decision to make."

He nodded and turned back to Prr't-casst-a. "All right, my brother, we're agreed on this end," he said. "Assuming you can get the Prr family to get you that cutting."

"But what if he can't?" Prr't-casst-a protested. "The Dhaa'rr leaders only have to wait three more fullarcs. After that they're going to destroy his fsss."

Thrr-gilag grimaced. Three fullarcs from now. The same time he and the alien study group were scheduled to leave Oaccanv for the Mrachani homeworld. "Doesn't give us much time."

"Certainly not enough time to bring pressure on the Prr family," Klnn-dawan-a put in. "Unless that's not what we're talking about here."

Thrr-gilag looked at her, an unpleasant feeling running through him. "What do you mean?"

She gestured to Prr't-casst-a. "Prr't-casst-a, why don't you go get the message started," she said. "Tell him that you agree to his idea about how to handle the cutting."

"All right," Prr't-casst-a said.

She vanished. "You want to tell me what you've got in mind?" Thrr-gilag asked Klnn-dawan-a.

"I think you know as well as I do," she said. "If the Dhaa'rr leaders are bound and determined to destroy Prr't-zevisti's fsss, the three of us aren't going to have much chance of convincing the Prr family to stand up to them. Certainly not with just three fullarcs to do it in."

"And actually, I've only got one fullarc before I have to leave," Thrr-gilag agreed. "So what are the alternatives?"

Klnn-dawan-a shivered again. "I see only one. We're going to have to take the cutting ourselves."

Prr't-casst-a was back before Thrr-gilag could think of anything to say. " 'Good,' " she quoted Thrr-mezaz. " 'I know how hard this is going to be for all of you, especially Prr't-casst-a. I'm not all that thrilled about it myself. But I think it's Prr't-zevisti's only chance. I'll try to get the Prr family moving on this.' "

"Good," Thrr-gilag said. He looked at Klnn-dawan-a—"But I think we'd better have an alternative plan ready. Just in case."

Prr't-casst-a frowned slightly, but she nodded and disappeared. "Do you have any idea what you're suggesting?" Thrr-gilag asked Klnn-dawan-a. "None of us is exactly qualified to take fsss cuttings."

"It's not supposed to be all that hard anymore," Klnn-dawan-a said. "Not with modern preservation methods. There's not so much of that internal liquefaction that made those first cuttings so difficult."

"A great cheer for progress," Thrr-gilag growled. "Unfortunately, that's not going to help us a bit. Prr't-zevisti's fsss wasn't treated with modern preservatives, remember?"

Klnn-dawan-a winced. "You're right."

"And that means cold-knives and a compressed argon atmosphere and all the rest of it," Thrr-gilag went on. "And something to seal the cut end before everything leaks out, and a healer qualified to do that sort of work. Not to mention the whole trick of sneaking a fsss out of its niche and then sneaking it back in afterward."

"I didn't say it would be easy," Klnn-dawan-a snapped, glaring at him. "I just said it was our only chance."

Thrr-gilag glared back. But she was right. Except that it was Prr't-zevisti's only chance.

Prr't-casst-a reappeared. " 'I think I understand—' " She paused. "Are you all right?" she asked, looking back and forth between Thrr-gilag and Klnn-dawan-a.

Thrr-gilag sighed. "Sure," he said, laying a hand on Klnn-dawan-a's shoulder. "Just a little difference of opinion. What did Thrr-mezaz say?"

"Right. 'I think I understand what you're saying. Good luck, and keep me informed. Farewell.' "

"Farewell, Thrr-mezaz," Thrr-gilag murmured, an odd sensation tingling at the base of his tongue. That last message from Thrr-mezaz had sounded suspiciously rushed. Could there be some trouble with the Humans?

Prr't-casst-a was still waiting. "Go ahead and release the pathway," Thrr-gilag instructed her. "Remind them we may be needing them again later."

She nodded and vanished, returning a few beats later. "They've all agreed to stand ready. What now?"

"We need ideas," he told her. "Let's go off and think, and plan to meet back here in, say, three tentharcs. Or as close to here as we can manage," he added, glancing at the encroaching waves again. "Oh, we'll also need to know where exactly Prr't-zevisti's niche is. Can you get the number for us?"

"He's right beside me," Prr't-casst-a said, bittersweet memories crossing her face. "We were moved to adjoining niches after we were bonded."

A different system from the one the Kee'rr used. "Good," he said. "That will help. All right, then. Three tentharcs from now."

"Yes," Prr't-casst-a said. "Again, I thank you. Both of you."

"Sure," Thrr-gilag said. "Go on, get going."

"So what are we going to do?" Klnn-dawan-a asked as they picked their way carefully between the waves and left the cave.

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