That had to be it. The tests, reliable as they were, weren't infallible; they'd missed Shining Arrow's need for closeness. Given his own isolated childhood, it wasn't surprising they'd missed the same need in him--a need he hadn't even known, in Terran society, that he had.

And that was his key. This wasn't Terra. This was the Traiti Homeworld, and physical expression of affection was the norm here. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, deliberately relaxing.

Daria felt his body's tension ease, and put an arm around his shoulders. "That is better, ruhar. I have heard of marriage, though it is not a Traiti custom. Adopted or not, you are part of the clan, and you are adult. Any ruhar can share bodies with you, in full honor."

Any--? the Ranger thought blankly, then he realized it made sense.

With their s.e.x ratio and limited fertility, the Traiti couldn't pair up as Terrans did. Hovan and the five he shared young with should have made that obvious. But she was still a priestess . . .

Daria answered that unspoken thought, startling him. "The Lords do not forbid their Speakers sharing of bodies or young--if they did, none would serve them. There are no barriers, es'ruhar, except those in your mind."

She was silent then, letting the man absorb her words and her unspoken caring, as some people drifted out of the room and others drifted in, to sit near them. The emotional storm Steve was generating, and its texture, let the clan know his First Sharing was near, and that he needed support to make it what it should be.

Daria remembered her own First Sharing, a good eighty years ago, and recalled that she had been a little apprehensive herself, even though she had grown up seeing the adults sharing bodies. She had only relaxed when her best-loved es'ruhar, he who had given her life, came to give her this gift as well. And those who were with them included her other closest n'ruhar.

Now the ones Steve knew best were here to show their approval and joy.

Daria regretted that he had no one really close to him for this, but with Hovan and the others around them, she was sure he would take some pleasure in it, and he would be unaware of how much he was missing.

Tarlac felt the presence of his n'ruhar, male and female alike, in a perception that was a glow of warmth. They were his clan, his family.

And yes, he was es'ruhar to Daria. He looked up at her, reached to run his fingers softly along the side of her face. "Ka'ruhar," he said, almost whispering, "I will . . . I will be proud to share bodies with you this night."

When Tarlac woke the next morning he felt good, almost euphoric, eased of a tension he'd lived with for so long he'd forgotten he had it.

Daria was also awake, he realized, and those who had been with them the night before were now gone. He put his arms around her.

"Ka'ruhar . . . it was unbelievable." He remembered the night with delight, and appreciation for something he'd never expected to experience--the unity with another person, someone who treated him as a person instead of a symbol.

"Such sharing is always good," she said serenely, running gentle claws down his back. "And we share more, my Steve. I bear our ka'esten."

"Our daughter." Tarlac, beyond surprise, couldn't question her knowledge of pregnancy or of the baby's s.e.x. He took a moment to sort out his reactions. He knew Daria was pleased--he couldn't deny that in a way he was pleased himself!--but this made it certain. One way or another, this was his last mission as a Ranger. He'd told Hovan what might happen if he returned to the Empire with a clan and family, but he hadn't really expected to have to leave the only group of friends he'd known. That would be a wrench.

Still . . . he remembered the feeling of belonging he'd had at the altar, and Daria's undeniable concern for him. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad a deal, at that, if he somehow survived. He might be gaining more than he lost . . . a badge for a daughter. Jim and Linda for Hovan and Daria. Yeah, that seemed fair enough.

Tarlac smiled, already a bit nostalgic. Guess you'll have to find yourself another Ranger, Jean, he thought. Looks like if I ever ride the Lindner again, it'll be as a pa.s.senger. Then his attention turned fully to Daria, and the idea of being a father.

It turned out to be a surprisingly pleasant idea. He felt brief concern about how their daughter would be accepted, but decided that shouldn't be a problem, since he'd been accepted. Something else was more important. "Daria, ka'ruhar--what happens to her, and to you, if I fail? Not if I die trying this; I know Ch'kara will take care of you both. But if I can't end the war, and the Empire invades Homeworld?"

Her serenity was unimpaired. "I believe you will not fail, that you will watch her grow. To ease your mind, though, as long as I am carrying and nursing her, it would be dishonorable for me to fight--and the need to care for her will keep me alive, even as a captive, until she no longer needs me."

"That helps, some." It wasn't perfect; Tarlac didn't want anyone to have to die, and he hoped the invasion never happened . . . but what she said did help. Then another thought occurred to him. "What'll we name her?"

"We have time to give that much thought," Daria said with amus.e.m.e.nt.

"But not now. I have duties, and we both must eat."

"I suppose so." He hated to do it, but he released her and they both rose.

Going to the door, Daria retrieved a bundle and handed it to him.

Clothes, in Imperial green and silver--with his badge. He took them, pleasantly surprised; he'd expected to have to go back to his quarters to dress. Somebody was being thoughtful.

n.o.body seemed to pay any particular attention to them when they went in to breakfast, though Tarlac was reasonably sure that what had happened was common knowledge. He became positive when, shortly after they found seats, Hovan and Yarra joined them.

Yarra smiled at them "Well, Steve, have you lost all your doubts of truly belonging?"

"There's no need for the English now, Ka'ruchaya--the Lords are good teachers." Tarlac was still baffled by their gift of Language, but he'd come to accept it. "I've lost all my doubts."

"That is good," Yarra said. "I like my n'ruesten at ease."

Then Daria touched Steve's hand. "You tell them, es'ruhar. I will tell the rest at morning service."

"Tell us what?" Hovan asked, but his face told Steve that he'd guessed the news.

"Daria and I share a daughter."

Hovan looked at the two of them, then at Yarra. "It seems our newest one serves Ch'kara well. And himself--I have never heard of anyone pa.s.sing the first part of the Ordeal so quickly."

"The Ordeal!" Tarlac exclaimed--but shock almost instantly turned to understanding. "Daria, you should have told me!"

"And make your First Sharing a thing of duty instead of joy? No, es'ruhar. That would have been wrong for you, and for our ka'esten.

You deserve better of the clan."

Yarra smiled at them, and spoke to Steve. "Ruesten, the Lords must truly favor you, to teach you Language, then grant a girl child to the clan on your first sharing of bodies. That is a thing of joy, for all of us."

"Yes, but--"

"No buts, ruhar," Hovan said. "Are you concerned that she is half human? That does not matter." He turned to Yarra and Daria.

"Ka'ruchaya, may I show him?"

Yarra nodded. "If Daria permits."

"Go ahead," Daria said. "I am content to make the formal announcement at service."

Hovan stood and raised his arms, claws fully extended in a stance that demanded the room's full attention. Silence fell, and he waited until every face in the dining room was turned toward him.

"In seven tenth-years, n'ruhar," he began, "we will have--"

Some breakfasters were quick to make the connection between the timespan and the previous night's First Sharing, no doubt aided by the little group's satisfied expressions.

"Female or male?" someone called.

"Female!" Hovan called back, too proud for Steve to be dismayed by the interruption.

Within seconds Tarlac and Daria were surrounded by well-wishers, being congratulated with obvious sincerity. There was no doubt in the Ranger's mind of that, as he found himself grinning like an idiot, accepting the compliments and feeling as pleased with himself as any Traiti male.

A clan-sized family had built-in safeguards against his swelling head, though. A youngling Steve couldn't remember meeting tugged at his shirt, and when he looked around, said, "Hey, ruchaya Steve, you don't talk funny any more."

Tarlac laughed. "Thanks! Think you could do any better, in English?"

The youngling grinned engagingly at him. "Sure I could, if you teach me."

"We'll see. If I have time, it's a deal."