"Sure. He spends it hanging around the port talking with spacers."

"Just talking? Not doing anything?"

"It's not for want of wanting," Hetch said. He rubbed his palm over his bald head. "He's as randy as they come, or talks that way. I think he's saving it for something special. Tied in with that Jes-on-the-bridge crap."

Jason shook his head. "All my children are crazy," he said.

Palen appeared in the distance. The twins rode in her capacious pouch, and they giggled as she admonished them not to kick her nipples. Jason watched her. She'd pupped soon after the twins were born, but the child had disappeared a few months ago. Palen wouldn't talk about it, and neither would the local kasirene. Jason remembered that the kasirene exchanged pups as casually as humans exchanged clothing, and that any one kasir pup might move in comfort from mother to father to aunt to stranger, traveling the length and breadth of Aerie before leaving the pouch. Palen's pup was, more than likely, summering in the mountains, or with some distant tribe by the shores of Mother Sea. She had, it seemed to him, adopted Quilla's children with the same lack of ceremony as kasirene traded their own offspring back and forth; the twins spent entire days and nights in the kasirene village, to Laur's flustered disapproval.

If Palen was the twins' adoptive mother, did that make the kasir Jason's adoptive daughter? She was as crazy as any of his blood-children; she might as well be family.

Hetch stood, finished his beer, and put the stein on a table.

"Promised Hoku I'd bring some stuff up for her," he said. "Think she wants to weigh me again."

Jason laughed and finished his own beer. Palen told him that she'd be willing to watch the children until the party began, and he walked up the hill again. Mish would be ready by now, he thought. Warm and perfumed from bathing; tiny. Sweet. His loins tingled as he grinned, and his pace quickened. There would be plenty of time before the party.

Dr. Hoku sat in a place of honor, convenient to the punchbowl, and observed her patients with a quick, exacting eye. She considered everyone in Haven her patient, including the kasirene from the neighboring village, and she watched them all. Old Ved Hirem stumped by and nodded to her; Ved was still convinced that he suffered from arthritis, although if he had arthritis, she had wings. She dosed him with analgesics and harsh words, both of which he took with ill humor. She nodded back to him and grabbed a passing child.

"You're Kridee, aren't you?" The child nodded. "Right. Go fetch me more punch."

The child took the cup and scampered toward the table. Born on a cold winter's night, Hoku remembered. Rain on the roof and his father moaning and gnawing at his fingers. Healthy baby. Kridee brought her punch, and she ruffled his hair and sent him on his way.

Hart and Gren entered, and Hoku watched them, her face calm and her mind suspicious. Gren was negligible, had been for the past five years, and she suspected that Hart had something to do with the old man's incessant drinking and cringing demeanor. She'd have given a lot to discover what the two of them were up to, there in Hart's basement, but suspected that she'd just as soon not know. Gren's mind was so befuddled by alcohol and what tasted like fright that she could not read him, and Hart projected a cold sarcasm that kept her at bay, as his earlier, total hatred had blocked her. Gren and Hart walked to the table and took plates of food, then faded into the crowd.

If this BeginningDay was like others, they would eat together, sit making unpleasant comments about the celebrants, and leave well before the dancing started. Hoku grunted and turned her attention elsewhere.

Hetch getting fat again, and fatter before the night was out. Second helping piled on his plate, third or fourth stein of beer, and the party barely started. She considered summoning him, then decided against it. He could fast next week; let him enjoy himself tonight. Cagy, space-bound old bastard. She liked him.

Jes glided by, dressed in finery, and Hoku nodded. Expectations confirmed. He would be out to impress Taine. And where was Taine? There, by the tables. She, too, had seen Jes enter, and, to Hoku's surprise, she left her circle of admirers and crossed the barn to Jes, touched his arm, and smiled at him. Hoku frowned. Something had changed in Taine. The young woman had become even more unhappy beneath her layer of frosty reserve; then within the past day the unhappiness had changed to something with the flavor of intense resolution -- something to do only peripherally with Jes, Hoku guessed. She wished that she could talk with Taine, but Taine avoided Hoku whenever possible and refused even the smallest attempt at intimacy. Hoku wondered whether Taine remembered those two weeks at the Great Barrier camp, remembered Hoku's forcible besmirching of her face and hair. She suspected that while Taine remembered the events, she had repressed the identities. The doctor sighed and hoped that Taine was not aiming herself for even more unhappiness. In the distance, Taine held Jes' arm and laughed.

Quilla and Tabor, looking prickly. Typical.

Sweet Mother, what's happened to Laur? The old woman creaked into the barn, her straight back bent, shoulders hunched, as though age had caught up with her and now sat full weight on her neck. Laur was ancient but still, not this sudden a change. Hoku watched with surprise as Laur made her slow way toward the table, then saw Hart and stopped. She's afraid, Hoku thought. Of Hart? Of her favorite? The barn was too crowded for the doctor to pick out Laur's emotions. Hart came to Laur and guided the old woman to a seat in the hay, then sent Gren to bring her a plate. He bent his head and talked, smiling, touching. At last the old woman smiled a little. She accepted the plate from Gren and bent her head to it. I'll have to talk with her, Hoku decided. As soon as possible. Something's very wrong.

Ho. Pita made it after all. She's going to have that baby any moment now. Where's Jed? What good's a trained midwife if he's never around when you need him?

She snapped up another child. "You're Haley, Tham's child, yes? Find Jed and tell him that I want to see him. Now. Go on."

Haley tore off through the crowd, and Hoku returned to her people-watching. The kasirene contingent entered in one group, led by Palen tor-Altemet, Quilla's friend. Palen carried Decca and Jared in her pouch. She hauled them out and sent them scampering toward their parents. The kasirene bowed and chattered, and Hoku was pleased to see the Aerans accept them, with tolerance if not with warmth. The kasirene brought their roasted fishes to the table and spread them out, and soon another rush toward the tables began. Hoku decided to wait for the fish. There would be plenty to go around.

Meya, standing by her sister, saw Palen and gave a squeal of delight as she launched herself toward the kasir. Palen picked her up, hugged her, and set her on the ground before turning to embrace Quilla. Quilla's back relaxed and she stood talking with Palen while Meya danced around them demanding attention. Quilla gave Meya and the twins sticks of bread and sent them off.

Tabor watched Quilla and Palen in silence. Meya capered around the room, the recipient of caresses and smiles from Aerans and kasirene both. Hoku watched the child fondly, half expecting her to take to the air. Such a light, bright child to come from such a winter, Hoku thought. From such a spring. I'm glad she's here.

"Doctor?"

She glanced up at her assistant. "Good. Where's Pita? There, you see her? You keep your eye on her, she'll go into labor within the next three hours. I want you nearby. I don't think she'll have an easy time of it. Best alert someone to help you get her to the hospital. There's no use trying to convince her to leave early."

"I don't think she will," Jed said. "She's not due for two weeks, and -- ".

"And I know what I'm thinking about," Hoku said. "You stick with her and don't give me any nonsense. Go on, get."

She watched him move through the crowd toward Pita and nodded. That one was going to be a real fight.

When Meya capered by, Hoku sent her for food. By the time she finished eating, the center of the barn had been cleared and Ved Hirem's Recitation was beginning. Hoku frowned and yawned. Various Aerans, dressed in rags, stumbled through the barn, their well-fed bodies striving to mime exhaustion and hunger. Jason made his traditional speech of welcome. Hetch was glorified. The burning of Haven was narrated, and the kasirene appeared with their gifts of fish. The To'an Betes expedition was given its due. Generally Mish left the barn at this point, but tonight she stayed. Jason put his arm around her shoulders and whispered something to her, and she smiled.

Hetch presented 'Zimania' seeds, making the same speech he had made before. Hoku, as usual, fell asleep. Music woke her. The sun was setting beyond the strand of kaedos, and the dancing began.

A small commotion drew her attention. Jed and a woman were carrying Pita from the room, and Hoku nodded, worried. Jed would send for her if he needed her, and the hospital was, thank the Mother, well stocked. She'd have to remember to make Jed apologize in the morning for doubting her diagnosis, but it was minor. Jed would do as well as he could, which wasn't at all bad.

Hoku had trained him well.

Taine and Jes slipped from the barn, and didn't return. Hoku felt surprised, then shrugged. Maybe Jes would get laid. About time, too. As long as he didn't take it too seriously.

Quilla and Tabor were talking, their gestures growing more and more pronounced. Eventually they turned away from each other and stalked in opposite directions. Mish and Jason continued to dance, bodies close, Mish's head resting against Jason's chest, oblivious. Aerans nudged each other and pointed at them, smiling. Meya was asleep in the hay, with a twin cuddled on either side. Mim was trying to help Laur out of the barn. The old woman jerked away and said something, her face wrinkled with fury. Mim marched off. Quilla and Palen stood talking against a wall, shoulder to shoulder.

Hoku looked at them all again, sighed, and leaned back in her chair.

Kennerins, she thought. Silly fools, every one of them. She turned off her mind, relaxed, and fell asleep.

Once away from the barn's light, Taine's hair darkened; red to auburn to brown to a deep loam color, rich and soft. But the highlights in her hair remained, catching and reflecting the gleaming of stars and moon. Her gait emphasized the movement of her hips, and Jes' gaze flickered from swaying bottom to swaying hair. His breath felt tight and full in his chest. She seemed perfect now, silent, moving through the warm and scented night.

She paused at the crest of the hill and Jes stopped behind her and to the side, not yet willing to see her face. The Tor reared dark against the starlit sky, all angles and slopes; the feathery leaves of the halaea shone in the pale light. Beyond, the lamps of Haven glowed. Taine stared toward house and village, then shivered and crossed her arms, putting her hands on her shoulders.

"Are you cold?"

She shook her head and walked on, slower now, as though deep in thought. Jes walked behind her, content to accept her mood without questioning it. Night-goddess, he thought She walks in beauty, like the night -- and like the day, too, all that fine, pale skin and fire-hair, and the way she turns tawny at sunset. How does she look at dawn? How would she look in spaceflight, weightless in the diffused amber lights of the observation bubble, her hair floating around her? Spacegoddess, nightwalker, daybringer, starsinger. Wrap her in thick white pelts from Stroshine, crown her with blue gems from Tozun, a diadem of nebulae, a tiara of worlds. Barely enough for her, for this grace, this loveliness.

He was drunk and he knew it, although he had not taken a drop of alcohol that day. Drunk with Taine. From the moment she had seen him in the barn she had not left his side, had reserved the warmest of her laughter and the gentlest of her teasing for him. Had danced with him only, pressing the supple length of her body against him, and smiling at his body's strong response. And had led him from the barn with mysterious smiles and promising eyes. His thighs ached with tension, but he ignored them, content to be with her, alone on the dark hillside. Nor did her shift from flirtatiousness to solemn thought disturb him. Nothing she did this evening could be wrong.

She led him around the tubhouse and into the grove of kaedos, stopping well within the line of trees. When he reached her, she turned to him, put her arms around his neck, and pulled his face down to hers. Startled, he lost his balance and they tumbled into the soft duff of the grove. She wriggled until she lay half atop him.

"Taine," he whispered.

"Hush," she said and kissed him again. Her fingers moved down the seam of his shirt and it fell open. He tried to push her hands away, confused by the speed of it all, striving for the room to understand what she wanted of him and why. Then her tongue slid into his mouth and her hand cupped the crotch of his pants, and his objections were lost in a flood of warmth. Her fingers burned down the length of his body, and he fumbled for the seam of her shirt. Her nipples stiffened against the palm of his hand; her belly was smooth and warm. Her clothing slid from her body; he arched his hips to help her strip him of his pants. He stroked her hips, and when he touched her gently between her legs, afraid of hurting her, she gasped and moved against his hand. Then she swung her legs over him and slid onto his prick before he knew what she was doing. The universe became a sheath of tightness and warmth.

He moaned, arched his back, and came.

When he tried to speak, she muffled his words with kisses, caressed him, and he stiffened again. This time she slid below him and let him set the pace, guiding him with sweet, gentle motions of her hands and hips, until her body tautened and she cried his name. He held himself back as she arched beneath him, then rushed into orgasm, and from orgasm to night.

It passed quickly. He breathed in great, delighted gasps; gathered her to him and rocked their bodies amid the fallen kaedo leaves.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you, I love you."

"Hush."

"I love you. Well be married tomorrow, tonight, as soon as we can. I love you. Come to the stars with me. I love you...."

She was shaking her head against his chest. He drew back and looked down at her, barely able to see her face in the dim light.

"No," she said.

"But..."

"No." She pulled away from him, sat, drew her legs up, and clasped her arms around her knees. "I'm sorry, Jes. No."

"But you love me...."

"Did I ever say that?"

He stared at her, more puzzled than angry. "I don't understand."

She sighed. "Ever since NewHome, I've never had a place of my own. I want one. I want a house, I want a home. I want a place to be. Do you think I could be happy, not even having a planet?"

"You could stay here," Jes said. "You could live at the Tor."

"I want a house of my own."

"Then we'll build one, in Haven -- with trees and gardens and windows and anything you want. I swear we will. We can start tomorrow."

"No, Jes. I want someone to stay with me. All the time."

"I'm never gone long, Taine."

"All the time. Please listen to me, Jes. I don't want to marry you. I couldn't take it."

After a moment of struggle, Jes said, "Okay. I don't need to go with Hetch. There's plenty for me to do here."

"Jessie, don't be a fool." She moved as though to touch his face, but stopped midway and clasped her knees again. "Do you think you'd be happy, staying on Aerie when you wanted to be in space? How soon before you started resenting me for keeping you here? How soon before I started resenting you? I don't want a spacer for a husband. I want someone solid and steady, I want someone who won't surprise me, who won't change on me. Who won't disappear. I want my own home, and my own children to raise. I want someone who will go off every morning and come back every night, day in and day out."

"But I could..."

"No. I want a dull, boring, safe, and steady life, Jes. You could never give me that, no matter how much you tried."

"But why?" he demanded, sitting up. "You don't have to live that way.

You'd go crazy living that way."

"No, I wouldn't. I've had enough excitement; I don't want any more. I don't want to be a Kennerin, moving things and changing things and doing things. I want to be Taine Somebody Alendreu, who lives in Haven and has children and pets and mends clothing and does the wash and cooks meals and gossips with the neighbors." She was almost shouting.

"But, Taine..."

"Don't argue with me! It won't help!" She groped for her clothing, found her shirt, and wiped her face with it. "This afternoon I told Kayman Olet that I'd marry him."

"The preacher?" Jes said with disbelief. Kayman Olet was a pleasant, bland man in his thirties, a blank of a man, an absolute void of a man. Taine began pulling on her clothing.

"You can't do that!" Jes said.

Taine seamed her shirt closed and began pulling on her shoes. She didn't answer him.

"Taine, please, listen to me. You're making a mistake. I can make you happy, I swear I can. I promise. Please marry me. Taine, listen to me.

Please."

She stood and brushed leaves from her clothes. Jes leaped to his feet and reached for her, but she eluded his fingers. He put his hands at his sides and stared at her.

"Then, why this?" he whispered.

She touched his cheek. "Because I do love you," she said, then ran through the trees.

A while later Jes knelt and gathered his clothes. Then he sat, put his hands over his face, and wept.

Laur held up the burned loaf of bread and glowered around the kitchen.

The kasirene cooks stood to one side, looking uncomfortable.

"Biara," Laur said. A cook shuffled forward, her head bent.

"This is unacceptable and you know it. This loaf isn't even worth salvaging. How could you expect us to eat this cinder?"

"I'm sorry," the kasir said.

"Sorry is not adequate. You'll have to stay until you've done it all again -- and done it right. Mind you, I shouldn't be giving you another chance, but I am. I trust you'll keep that in mind."

"In mind?" The kasir lifted her head. "I can't stay here. I have to go home. I can't bake your bread."

"Biara!"

The kasir tore the apron from her torso and threw it to the floor.

"I won't do it!" she cried. "I hate your bread, and your kitchen, and you, and I won't stay!" She rushed from the kitchen, slamming the door. Laur gaped.

The second cook bent to the apron. He smoothed it, folded it, and set it on the table.

"Please understand," he said. "Don't be angry with her."

"Not angry? After what she did? What she said? Not be angry?" Laur was so furious that she forgot to raise her voice.

"She has problems. She's worried about her child."

"Kalen? The baby? Is he ill? Why didn't she say so, she could have stayed home today. I'm not a monster."