The hive-mind noticed that the strangers' hive-dome was invisible. Panic seized the hive's warriors. Outside the Dushau's will led compound, the stream of hive-dwellers reversed in their tracks and poured north, along the base of the cliff. But here and there individual Natives regarded the illusion-dome as a perfectly ordinary thing, apparently aware of the colony's right to it.
Gradually the hive-mind accepted that pragmatism, and the
rout became an orderly retreat to regroup around the spaceships
parked at the northern edge of the colony's territory.w
The Oliat, still numb with shock compounded by Zannesu's ringing denial of his loss, watched in growing horror as the advance warriors stormed the open hatches of the ships, showing every sign of taking permanent possession.
Flatly, tonelessly, Zannesu warned, //Ineed to hate them. She didn't deserve that. Why—why, Jindigar? Why did it happen like that? Ten minutes—just ten minutes more and she'd //
Incompletion-death is always senseless. It is failure, pure and simple. Or so Aliom seemed to imply. Maybe he hadn't understood. Or maybe Aliom was wrong. //Idon't know if I'll ever find an answer for you, my zunre. But as long as I live, I will try. One thing I am sure of, though–to hate the Natives is to throw oneself after Eithlarin.//
//It was my fault. I couldn't hold her.//
Something in Zannesu's tone hit a nerve. Eithlarin's inexorable retreat, the sudden, shocking loss, the excruciating need to act—If I had been faster, held harder, thought more clearly– she'd be alive.
Guilt. He feels guilty–but there was nothing he could have done. It came to Jindigar with a sense of creeping horror. / have held that kind of guilt about Takora–all these years it's been in me, and I never knew it. / thought that, because I did the best thing, that I had to consider it the right thing. But the truth is, I don't. He could not tell Zannesu what he had been told—that he need not feel guilty because no one could have saved her.
Surprisingly Krinata added the comment that lightened Zannesu's anguish. //Look at it this way. Eithlarin gave us one invaluable parting gift. By truly heroic effort, so very typical of her, she returned to us when we needed her. She loved us and knew we loved her. Even if it was in her—–fate, maybe—to die Incomplete, she wanted us to know it wasn't our fault. Personally I don't see how such a selfless act could earn her anything but good from the universe.//*
It was the strangest thought ever planted in Jindigar's mind. He wasn't sure he wanted it to germinate. It could lead to suicide in misguided causes. Yet he could find no flaw in Krinata's reasoning. He knew why. The carefully constructed epistemology he'd relied on for judgment had suddenly been wiped out. Everything had to be rethought from scratch, and at the moment that was all he wanted to do. Onset symptoms! I'm in no condition to be a Center.
But for the moment Zannesu stabilized. Jindigar called them to work and, with Krinata's permission, choked down her link again, invoking their normal multiawareness. //Receptor, Protector, Emulator—we must expand the dome image over the whole colony—including the ships. The hive must not settle among the ships!//
As his Oliat responded the shaleiliu hum returned, all trace of static gone. But, after what they'd done to themselves, how long would it take for hormonal surges to build again?
Jindigar lifted the linkages and refocused the Oliat's attention outside themselves, hoping for the best.
Despite the recent acrimony, the colonists formed up to defend their homes against this new menace. Trinarvil, so much nearer Completion than Jindigar, Observed the shaleiliu engulfing the ephemerals. She should be Center.
Jindigar followed her lead, focusing the Oliat on the shaleiliu generated among the colonists, and his Protector gratefully seized upon it and used it to spread the dome image out over houses, barns and fields, and the Cassrians' pond, everywhere that men and women stood shoulder to shoulder to claim their homes.
In Trinarvil's hands Eithlarin's worn, aged, and spotted dome of uninspired gray blocks became a wondrous miracle whose beauty flashed directly to the soul's very core, like the Aliom lightning. To experience that immanent beauty directly, not filtered by life's accumulated emotional barriers, was more than the younger officers could bear.
//Protector!// called Jindigar, breathless with excruciating joy, //We're not ready—not ready for this!// Have to extend that dome over the ships!
But Trinarvil was lost in rapt contemplation of the glory of existence and the adoration of home life. Jindigar sensed that she was carried into it by a Renewal hormone surge set off when she finally touched Phanphihy and found it welcoming her. Knowing that her mature ability to find every faint hint of shaleiliu was what his Oliat had lacked, that Trinarvil could have been to his Oliat as Lelwatha had been to Kamminth's– Jindigar still had to stop it.
He had to fight the seductive lure of her vision—for that was what life should always be. Three times he tried to bring himself to act. Finally, knowing that he simply could not match Trinarvil's mature strength, he resorted to slamming the Pro-lector's link down to a narrow band.
Everyone protested the sudden loss of the ineffable.
//What?// asked Trinarvil, bewildered. Then, //Oh, sorry. I guess I'm out of practice.// The dome image solidified over the colony, a lovely thing, freshly scrubbed and sound enough to last a generation, but no longer divine, and not yet covering the ships.
Suddenly lightning flashes of human vision pounded into the Oliat consciousness like shards of broken mirror rammed through the choked-down Outreach link.
A lone Native warrior leapt high into the air before Dar. He snarled his battle cry. Two hands gripped the neck of Lelwatha’s whule. Two muscle-knotted arms held it cocked at full backswing. The heavy sounding chamber swung directly at Dar's head.
Dar's face froze in horror.
The whule hurtled toward her eyes. The Oliat watched it through Krinata's human eyes, the antique urwood glittering in the first rosy light of dawn. The linkages carried Dar's view of her own face reflected in the distorting roundness of the wood, looming larger, paralyzed with fright.
Jindigar saw that the impact would come before the warrior even touched ground again.
And there was no Outrider on station to guard his Formulator, his mate. On a wave of explosive primitive rage Jindigar leapt to deflect the blow.
The massive whule glanced off his open hands, sending paralyzing pain up his arms. The strings rang discordantly. Then the whule smacked into the side of Dar's head, sending flint shards of pain through the Oliat. She hit the ground in a third burst of shocking pain that propagated through the linkages.
Zannesu Received their pain. Llistyien Emulated pain. Venlagar, as Inreach, was unable to reset the linkages alone. He could only hold them wide so the pain bounced back and forth, redoubling with each circuit. //Jindigar!//
Jindigar felt his knees buckle but didn't feel the sharp gravel under his hands because of the smarting pain growing ever louder as it seared up his arms again and again, amplified and echoed by the Oliat. His head hit the ground in one last numbing shock, adding to the pain of the blow Darllanyu had taken. Wildly growing pulses of pain shot through his skull. Only Krinata remained on her feet.
Dimly Jindigar sensed Dushau struggling toward them across the stream of retreating warriors—Dushau Outriders. Another Dushau hurtled through the air, tackling the warrior who had stolen Lelwatha's whule. The Dushau landed asprawl in front of Jindigar, scrabbling desperately for the whule. Jindigar saw a dark turban worn with a deep purple shut and trousers. Threntisn!
The warrior rolled over supine and clubbed Threntisn with the whule. Then he used the instrument as a staff to climb to his feet. He gave a bloodcurdling yell and charged through the approaching wall of Dushau, sweeping the whule before him in vicious arcs. Two large piols that had joined the chasing around as if it were a mating dance got into the warrior's way.
He stumbled, jabbed at the animals with the whule, and elbowed a Dushau out of his way.
The last thing Jindigar saw before vision failed was Krinata taking off after the warrior at a dead run. Her voice rose in an ululating shriek of predatory fury that barely reached them through the constricted Outreach linkage.
Ever-increasing pain drowned Jindigar, and he knew it would not stop until the energy was grounded. With his last strength he reached for the link to Trinarvil.
//Protector!// he called.
//Center!// she gasped.
//Inreach!//
//Center,// replied Venlagar weakly.
Jindigar finished the roll call, announcing, //On my signal each of you must channel all the pain to me.//
The pain was transformed kinetic energy—the blows from the whule, and their falling to the ground. Trapped and amplified by the magnification function he had set into the linkages to enlarge the dome, the energy now made it impossible for
Jindigar to reset and damp it out. And it grew with no theoretical limit, for it drew now, not just on their physical bodies, but also on the shaleiliu hum.
This would not just Dissolve the Oliat, as when he drew on the hum deliberately, but it would soon topple the Oliat into an Inversion. They would be set to affect the environment, not just Observe it. The Inverted Oliat would remanifest the energy in kinetic form. But the energy had been so vastly amplified, it would explode out from the Oliat like a bomb and would kill hundreds as well as the Oliat, Threntisn, and the Archive.
Jindigar set himself to prevent that. He had seen this done only once, in a demonstration. He told himself it was possible, therefore he could do it. Theoretically any energy could be grounded into a planet core.
Without considering what a slight error might do to his nervous system, he summoned a visual memory of the inside of the Temple and the inlaid Oliat symbol, which was all that was left of the worldcircle.
Theoretically a skilled Priest should never need to step into a worldcircle to contact the life matrix of the planetary energies. Once ignited, a circle always existed, at least in potential. He sought for it, and the very instant when he thought he felt it, he called in the energies. //To Center!//
A flooding rush of unendurable agony cascaded through his nerves, and he was sure he couldn't do it. Despair weakened ' him, magnifying the pain. He had no choice. Feebly at first, then with increasing will, he grounded the raw energy into the very soil of the planet, into the mantle, and down into the molten core where it would be stored and used to produce life, not death. He sank in molten liquid, churned by magnetic energy. His soul shrank, compressed to a dimensionless point. But the pain was gone.
Outside his body, apart from all physical concerns, he melted into the heart of/ the planet, falling inward to a point that encompassed the universe, encompassed Dushaun. The vibration of home called to the elemental stuff of his soul, gathering the scattered wisps together into the colorful, complex identity that was a Jindigar.
Welcome. Bright, comfortable light. Beauty—constant beauty. And there–right there, beckoning, was The Jindigar—a few short steps and he'd be Complete, able to join The Jindigar. It was all his now—he had only—
But what will happen to my Oliat if I leave now?
It had been drilled into him for centuries: Centers cannot die Complete without Dissolving; Observing Priests cannot die Complete without Observing their personal truths to transmit them to others; Seniors cannot die Complete without forsaking Completion; and the Complete cannot die Complete without initiating the cycle.
He had never understood it before, but he knew now that no stage could be skipped. There was no easy way, no single feat, to earn Completion.
Gathering himself from the ends of the universe, he shrouded himself in the soothing energies of Dushaun. How can I leave this? Clinging to the precious feeling of home, he nevertheless forged his way back to the center of Phanphihy and struck upward toward his Oliat, like a diver surfacing from the depths of the ocean into sparkling sunshine.
Whiteness spewed upward around him into a fountain that erupted skyward and sent him tumbling, falling, falling faster and faster, until he landed back in his body with a shock that forced a grunt from his lungs.
He sat up.
He was among his Oliat. Morning sunshine spilled over the nearby roofs to warm his toes while his head was still in the shadow of the Aliom Temple. The greensward around them was churned into raw muck. Some of the young trees had been pulled over despite their mooring lines, and young piols were swarming over them curiously.
All the warriors were gone j and so were most of the Dushau. Black smoke rose from several buildings where fires were being put out. Underlying that was the Oliat's global awareness of the immediate surroundings dominated by the brilliant plume of the re-ignited worldcircle within the Temple.
But that plume of white energy was different. There were definite overtones of Dushaun among the distinctive patterns of Phanphihy. This time it wasn't just a fading tinge but strong pulses that formed the character of the circle.
Alarmed that the new circle might attract the Natives again, Jindigar drew the Oliat attention outward, searching for the hive-dwellers.
They were digging a circular trench around the spaceships. Already a circular mound of dirt guarded the ground they claimed as their own. Unlike animal hives where specialization reigned, the Natives had turned out all hands to erect their defense line. Warriors labored beside the intellectual rustlemen while the tall, white-skinned species that were the craftsmen and heralds directed the efforts. The tiny, exoskeletal hive-binders were grouped in the middle of the array of ships telepathically weaving the shattered remnants of then– hive-mind back into a cohesive whole. Already that hive-mind was able to send waves of psychotic horror at the colony.
As the Oliat's attention swept the hive some Natives glanced south, toward the Aliom Temple, shrinking from the pluming energies and the impulses it evoked, determined not to make the same mistake again. The hive-mind was fighting a last-ditch battle for survival, confused that the huge hive-dome they had found was not openly welcoming.
Jindigar was astonished that the dome illusion had held.
The hive, however, seemed to consider it just another part of this alien place where they'd had to claim ground. The hive had scoured their new home clean of all invaders—the lab technicians in one of the ships had been slaughtered, leaving equipment running—and the hive would not—could not– flee again. Too many had died. The rest were wounded or too exhausted to go any farther. And still the colonists grouped around the symbolic bulwark of the hive's trench. The fields were littered with dead Natives, killed by the openly hostile colonists.
Why hasn't the hive unleashed its psychic weapon?
Sluggishly the Oliat responded to the Center's curiosity, following the connections to the plain above the cliff where a few scattered Natives lay dying, and a few of the badly wounded still dragged themselves toward the cliff edge, knowing they could never make it down.
Ignoring the wounded Natives, the hive-bleeders that had driven the Natives across the plain were now bunched for an all-out assault on the Gifter hive. The Gifters were so small, the hive-bleeders did not just suck them dry—they ate them whole. The Gifter hive, however, had not yet been breached.
A troop of Holot in scarred Imperial body armor advanced against the flank of the hive-bleeders. All the able-bodied Gifters were in the air, diving at the hive-bleeders, harassing them and occasionally killing one. But they were losing against the voracious predators who could swipe one of the winged creatures out of the air, crush it, and eat it before other Gifters could rally to its defense.
As the Oliat watched, the armored Holot opened fire with flamers—probably the last of the weapons still functional. The stench of scorched hive-bleeder flesh rose to mingle with the wood smoke from the Dushau compound, and the thready screams of the hive-bleeders came to the Oliat's ears.
Fatigued, the Oliat only shuddered, recoiling from the scene, too weary for the suffering to penetrate. But the Native hive-mind, aware through its dying members up on the plain, glowed with satisfaction, feeling safer by the moment—not because .hive-bleeders were dying, but because their new neighbors could vanquish such a deadly threat and were willing to do so for neighboring hives.
Only let one colonist's hand be lifted against the Natives, the Oliat knew, and the hive would lash out with their final weapon. The ex-Imperials would go mad.
Jindigar groped for his Outreach, needing to tell the colony how precarious the truce was.
Krinata's eyes showed him the outer court of the compound and the Outrider barracks. In the yard they'd set up a rough field hospital consisting of upended crates for tables and blankets spread on the ground for beds.
On one pallet a Dushau lay with his forearm across his chest, bleeding darkly where rough bone ends jutted through the flesh. Storm was stripping a crate down to make splints while two other Dushau prepared a litter. Beyond them, a Cassrian was bandaging a human's ankle. Two Lehiroh women were tending each other's burned hands while a Holot Jindigar recognized as the new herbalist was laying a fire on the stone hearth that formed the center of the yard, preparing to brew up some remedies in quantity.
Krinata sat cross-legged on one of the blankets near Storm. Cyrus blotted a cut over her eye. She stared into the distance, oblivious to his ministrations. The moment the link opened, she gazed around, amazed. Cyrus sat back on his heels, a look of exquisite relief on his face.
//Krinata, are you all right?// asked Jindigar, having no idea how much of the pain the Oliat had suffered had gotten through to her, or what such pain might to do a human mind.
//Jindigar?//
//Yes, of course. Can you speak for us?//
She blinked, and the scene before her penetrated, the Oliat's global awareness carrying a sense of urgency. //I—I guess so. Jindigar—I hit him, but I lost it.//
//What?// he asked, not following her thought.
//The whule.//
He felt tears sting her eyes and trace dirty streaks down her
face. She caught back her breath and stifled the reaction. Jin-
digar remembered seeing her take off after the warrior. Krinata
\hit that warrior? The Oliat hadn't even felt it through all the
test. If they had– //Krinata, you mustn't ever do anything like that again.// If she was ever Dushau, there's certainly little trace of it left! Those warriors are at least three times her size!
//I won't. I promise. It was awful. And he got Lelwatha's whule!//
// No time for that now. We must report.//
She took a deep breath and placed herself at his disposal, "//Cy, we have a message for Terab.//"
"Storm!" called Cyrus. "The Oliat! It's not Dissolved! She's not in Dissolution shock after all!"
"What? Krinata? I mean, Jindigar?' Storm handed the splints to one of the Dushau building the litter and came to kneel beside Krinata. "You're alive? From the way Krinata was—"
"//Please listen.//" Jindigar drew on all his officers to describe the Native hive's condition and stance. He tried to make it a crisp, professional report despite the fatigue overtaking them all. Llistyien was unable to stand, and Dar was leaning against her Outrider, one hand over the bloody lump on the side of her head.
"//Have you got all that?//" finished Jindigar.
The human and Lehiroh nodded simultaneously, then Storm commanded cryptically, "Cy, go get him. Jindigar, I think there's more to this hive turning up here than just the hive-bleeders chasing them."
Prompted by the Oliat's weariness, Krinata raised one hand to forestall Storm's enthusiasm. Jindigar noted, as the hand came into her field of vision, that the fingers were shaking. Storm noted it, too, and apologized. "I wouldn't hold you here except that it's very important."
Just then a door clattered. Krinata's hearing picked up softly padding bare feet on wooden stairs. With supreme effort Krinata turned and saw one of the stark-white, incredibly tall humanoid Natives coming toward them. The scarred ears on top of his skull seemed peculiarly familiar. His crossed harnesses—the only clothing he wore—marked him as a Herald. One arm was in a sling, but he carried a hivebinder on his other shoulder—something the Oliat knew was very unusual.
As he came out of the shadow of the wall, Krinata and the Oliat recognized him at the same time. "//Chinchee!//"
This was the Herald they had found wounded and dying in a Native hive smashed by the Imperial troops who were searching for them. Nursed back to health, he had refused to leave them. When more Imperial troops had been closing in on Jindigar's party, Chinchee had led them to refuge inside another Native hive. The Imperials had located them, anyway, and had attacked the hive. In the ensuing action many had died, and the hive, sorely wounded, had expelled Jindigar's party and two other offworld prisoners, Darllanyu and Cyrus.
Later Chinchee and his stray hivebinder had been taken prisoner by Imperial troops, who also attacked the colony and captured Jindigar, Krinata, and many other settlers. When all the hives of the plain had attacked the troopers, Chinchee had helped the colonists form the psychic union that created the image of the hive-dome over the settlement and convinced the massed hives of Phanphihy that the settlement—and the Imperials—were just another hive.
Now the Herald had brought them some new neighbors. Dangerous neighbors.
At last recognizing Krinata, Chinchee loosed a barrage of Cassrian whistles and clicks. Through the Native's accent and Krinata's human hearing Jindigar barely distinguished the morphemes for friend and welcome.
But the Cassrian female medic set aside her bandages and came toward them excitedly. "Was he only parroting like an animal, or did he really expect us to believe that was a peaceful and friendly approach?"
Her voice was well schooled to the single-toned interspecies language, so Jindigar had no trouble understanding her, but there was no time to explain the Herald's talent and function. //Llistyien—//
//I'll try,// replied his Emulator.
/ft was unreasonable to ask such precision work of her after —""all she'd been through. //I'll help,// Jindigar offered, and worked with her to establish Emulation of Herald, Cassrian, and human, while at the same time calling the Receptor to focus. Jindigar's own work was sloppy. Zannesu's shock was wearing off, the pain and horror of his loss sinking in. Darllanyu was in a daze. Even Venlagar could barely manage to grip the linkages as Jindigar set them. But gradually the meaning of what Krinata was witnessing came through.
"Friend!" piped Chinchee repeatedly. "Scared. Need help." And each time he repeated it he added several whistled versions of Jindigar's name.
While he went on ever more urgently the others argued the meaning of his message, occasionally pleading with Krinata to say something.
Finally Jindigar opened to his Outreach and, hampered by inflexible human articulation, sang out in the Native's language, "//Jindigar can hear you. Remember Oliat?//"
Krinata coughed at what those few phrases did to her throat while all the rest stared at her, amazed. Chinchee stopped in mid-phrase, dashed up to Krinata, threw himself down prone in front of her, and, with the hivebinder scurrying onto his back, did three push-ups. Everyone who had not been with them on the trek across the continent from the desert where Ephemeral Truth had crashed, laughed. But those who had been there when Chinchee led them to the hive refuge lined up to do push-ups back at Chinchee.
//Jindigar, I don't think I can do it.//
//Relax, Krinata. I doubt Chinchee expects you to.//
But the Native was obviously delighted with the others' response. As he rose to his feet he warbled, "Oh, Great Jindigar, your hive will prosper, your memory will tunnel through eternity. Your generosity will be recorded for all time."
"What did he say?" asked someone.
"Wait," admonished one of the Dushau. "Let the Oliat question him."
Storm added, "Somebody go get Terab. She's probably in the field, trying to prevent an all-out attack on the Natives."
Peripherally the Oliat knew that was exactly what Terab was doing. And she was succeeding. Apparently people had finally begun to grasp that little could be gained on this planet by frontal assault. Or perhaps the Imperial troopers who had experienced the wrath of the hivebinders were unwilling to stir that up again. "//Tell her,//" called the Oliat, "//that our attack on the hive-bleeders has made the Natives less hostile toward us.//"
One of the Lehiroh women with burned hands turned to go, saying, "I heard your report. I'll tell her."
Chinchee carolled, "Did I hear a familiar name? The name of Greatfursixarms?"
"//You are the most talented of all Heralds, Chinchee. The name of Terab is far greater than Jindigar's, for she speaks for this hive, not Jindigar, and not the Oliat. She will decide if this new hive can stay.//"
"Newhiveswarm cannot leave. Cannot move again. Greatfursixarms must know. Swarmed at startime, and settled new land on the plain. Built hive-dome, began new life." Chinchee*S voice took on the cadence of a bard reciting a long series of great historical events, for Heralds were also the newsbringers of the hives. "Flood waters came, high and higher, swift as wind, shattered hive-dome. Survivors flee, across plain, into strange land of hive-bleeders. Chinchee come, fight hive-bleeders, lead newhiveswarm to safety with fellow hive-people. Newhiveswarm need friend, need help, need peace. Here, Chinchee, Jindigar, made peace. Here, newhiveswarm find peace we made here."
All so logical!
"//Why did the newhiveswarm smash into our hive and hurt and destroy?//"
Chinchee folded to the ground, his knees sticking out at an angle, his head drooping. Through Llistyien Emulation the Oliat knew this was shame. His voice was tremulous as he told them, "Hive-mind, stripped of hive, so many dead to plainwater, so many dead to hive-bleeders, so many dead to newlifemaking, younghivemind broken, hurting, terrified, sensed throb of newlifemaking, sensed safe goodplace. Chinchee is Herald, not of younghivemind—not of hive. Herald cannot command hive."
He was trying to keep his story simple, but even so, Jindigar knew they weren't getting all the nuances. One thing was clear. The worldcircle itself had attracted the swarming hive irresistibly. The Oliat's projection of Renewal energies into the circle had probably triggered the swarm's headlong dash toward what they perceived as the oasis of safety the Herald had promised them. And they had been too mad with the need to settle again in time for new births to heed Chinchee's objections.
"//We understand now, Chinchee.//" Krinata's voice cracked on the high note, and she doubled over in a fit of raw, throaty coughing.
"Is she sick again?" It was Terab striding into the outer court on four legs. She was wearing a field worker's cloak over a tool harness and carrying a small grenade-thrower under one arm.
While Cyrus explained, Jindigar told Krinata, //I'm sorry. If anybody else could have done that//
//It's all right,// she returned. Cyrus handed her a cup of tea the herbalist had brewed, and she accepted it gratefully. It soothed her throat, and she could speak again by the time Terab was ready to hear what Chinchee had to say.
Folding her walking legs under her, Terab faced them both and heard the Oliat out before objecting, "I don't care how, but find some way of explaining to him that they've got to move. We don't want neighbors that can blow our minds to spacedust. We can't let them have the ships. 'Specially not now."
"//Chinchee is learning Cassrian. In a few weeks he may be able to negotiate some sort of access treaty. That's the best 1 think you can hope for.//" It seemed a forlorn hope-. For all Chinchee's skill as a Herald, he knew nothing about different cultures on his own world, let alone assimilating different species. He'd never have enough Cassrian to handle something delicate like this.
"Krinata—" started Terab, then corrected herself. "Oliat, listen to me. While you were saving Eithlarin, four people have come down with Krinata's Fever—" She broke off again to apologize, "Krinata, if you can hear me, I'm sorry, but that's what they're calling that fever you had after the clickerhive attacked us. The lab just identified the mutated strain that's turned up now. It's a bad one, Jindigar—vectored across species, different life stages, too complicated for an old spaceship captain to understand. But one thing's sure—it's got a short incubation time.
"The children are malnourished—it's going to hit them hard. And the Lehiroh are frightened for those nursing infants—because they've sacrificed their oil. What drugs we have are on those ships. The lab was working on Jindigar's blood and asking for more Dushau blood. We thought we had it under control—but now... And one way or another we've got to rescue those lab techs."
Overwhelming despair swept through the Oliat, sapping the very last of their strength. Krinata buried her face in her hands, needing to cry and not daring to unleash the turbulence among the Oliat. //Jindigar, oh, Jindigar.//
Cyrus pulled his hand back from touching her and offered, "I'll make them change the name. It wasn't your doing, Krinata."
"//She knows,//" answered the Oliat with Krinata, and Jindigar added, "//Terab, your lab techs are dead. And—we lost Eithlarin.//" Reception wavered as Zannesu recoiled into himself. Jindigar closed down his link to Receptor as much as he dared and told the Oliat along with the ephemerals, "//We can't, Terab. We simply cannot.//"
He'd said that before. He'd lost credibility as, time after time, they'd responded to new emergencies. He saw it in Terab's dark eyes as she gazed at Krinata. But then Krinata met her eyes, and Terab believed. Jindigar could see it, even though Holot was not included in the multieniulation. Stricken, Terab looked into failure, final and absolute. But she said, "I'm sorry. I thought—since you were still functioning, I thought..."
"//Trinarvil has been able to take Office–but only very temporarily.//"
Terab understood something of the problems Dushau had with colonizing. She accepted that. "You've done enough miracles for us. 1 guess we're on our own now." She rose. "I'll send someone to find Shorwh. Maybe he can get through to Chinchee." To the Outriders she said, "Take care of him. He may be the most important Native on this planet."
As they watched her leave Jindigar addressed the two Dushau with the litter. "//It doesn't seem that Krinata can walk back to us.//"
They left Storm to set the other Dushau's broken arm and carried Krinata back to the Temple.
After a few hours' rest under Trinarvil's therapy lamps, some solid food, and endless amounts of herbal potions, they were able to join Zannesu in grieving Eithlarin. It helped, but even by late afternoon of the next day, Zannesu was still glassy-eyed and sluggish in his responses. Jindigar didn't want to adjourn, leaving him like that, and didn't want to try the Dissolution until Zannesu could work.
They were gathered in the Temple near the new, enlarged worldcircle, their Dushau Outriders on guard outside the front entry. The Oliat formed up around Jindigar in working array, silting cross-legged on the floor. Jindigar surveyed his officers, clean and neatly bandaged, dressed in carefully patched clothes. None of them were in much better shape than Zannesu. It was u good thing, he reflected, that they had worked past exhaustion, considering the forces they had stirred up among themselves, trying to save Eithlarin.
There wasn't a trace of sexual energy left in any of them. Perhaps it would leave them in peace until they'd Dissolved.
Jindigar put it to his Oliat. //My judgment is impaired.
I'm no longer fit to Center.// Jindigar glanced at Dar. The feeling of Dushaun emanating from the worldcircle was strong enough to set off whole trains of association for them both. It wouldn't take much to stir any of them again. //But it seems to me that we'd best not delay any longer.//
Krinata objected. //The colony needs us. Isn't there some way we can at least* go and talk to the hive? I don't want to go out there to live with that sitting on the doorstep—and with the fever loose...//
Venlagar answered, //It isn't up to Jindigar and Darllanyu
to deal with these matters right now. It really isn't their responsibility—nor Zannesu's, either. That's a fact they're having a hard time facing too.//
III can't face it,// announced Darllanyu, looking straight at Jindigar. //Krinata's right. We should at least try to discover something to help.//
Ill have made too many wrong decisions in the midst of operations. I don't dare take you back into the field.//
Darllanyu turned to the worldcircle. //And do you call this a wrong decision?//
Ill didn't do this! It just—happened. I didn't know it was even possible to bring one world through another world's circle!//
//Listen to yourself,// argued Darllanyu. //You performed according to the highest Aliom ideals—you executed a "strike"—acting and reacting perfectly. You've worked three thousand years to develop that ability. Why should you be surprised when it produces the very serendipity Aliom promises?//
Trinarvil passed her hand through the zone above the circle. //Dar, I don't think he realizes what he's done. He hasn't suffered much, yet, from dysattunement.//
//He may never now. Maybe no one will.// Darllanyu rose and stepped into the circle, her form instantly enveloped in the shrouding whiteness.
Jindigar's breath caught in his throat, for despite the bandage slanted over one side of her head, she was the image of the bride awaiting the marriage trial. He almost didn't register Trinarvil's comment. //Maybe it's not a myth that Dushaun was colonized.... Jindigar has discovered a way it could have been done! He's brought through to Phanphihy that overtone which we think of as Dushaun, but which is really from our planet of origin. I wonder if even Threntisn's Archive has anything on that!//
Darllanyu moved out of the circle, and Jindigar released his breath. She came and folded herself down before him. Her nearness sent a strange new kind of quiver through him, and he knew, suddenly, that he'd taken a giant leap into Renewal with the Eithlarin operation.
//Jindigar, I maligned you that night, before we tried for Eithlarin. You are nothing less than an accomplished and dedicated Aliom Priest. No one else could have done this. I trust you—in the field—or anywhere.//
//No, Dar, you were right. I've discovered that a lot of people I haven't been listening to may have been right about me all along.// Like my father, for example. Jindigar was acutely aware of Krinata. He had the linkages open evenly, trying to rest their nerves. Krinata, sensing an intimacy in their words, was feeling embarrassed, as if she were eavesdropping. //Zunre, I've begun to have the kind of self-revelations that generally come beyond the onset of Renewal. Dar's insights into the deeper truths about me are very valuable to me. I want to spend this Renewal with her.//
//And I with him,// responded Dar formally, as if they had never made the announcement before.
Their eyes met, and all the friction was gone between them. Perhaps they would now settle easily into full Renewal. The promise made Jindigar eager enough to have forgotten the precarious position of the colony. But Darllanyu finally saw the change in him and pulled back, moving to the Formulator's position. //But first we must discover what can be done about I he hive, Chinchee doesn't stay anywhere very long. When he leaves, the colony will have no means whatever of talking to the hive. With communication there's a chance for an alliance.//
//And it's up to us to find a way to communicate, // concluded Krinata, //before we Dissolve.//
There was a set to her features and a hardness in her gaze that made Jindigar feel she was about to challenge Center again. //You don't know what you're saying, Krinata. You're talking about suicide—group suicide. If we go on, there'll be no hope for any of us to survive Dissolution.//
Very calmly Darllanyu questioned that. //How do you know we haven't passed that point already?//