"Good. You'll take care of it tonight, and we'll all rest better." Using a metal rod hanging beside the door, Loyce tapped on the grass.

When Klyd failed to respond to the faint sound, Loyce cocked an "I-told-you-so" brow at Valleroy and tapped louder. Pulling himself out of his reverie, Klyd moved to open the door, and the three of them went up to dinner.

All during the meal, Valleroy watched Klyd. The channel's appetite was even scantier than usual. He seemed to move in a daze, almost unable to focus his eyes. Valleroy decided that something really was wrong.

As they were bussing their dishes, Valleroy saw Nashmar watching from the new candidate's table where a select group of members were welcoming the newcomers. Valleroy smiled. Shifting his gaze from Klyd, Nashmar smiled back in what seemed to Valleroy genuine relief.

Both the top channel and the top Companion in Imil seemed to think Klyd was in serious trouble. Valleroy, as limited as his experience was, concurred.

But Valleroy was no true Companion. He didn't know what to do about it. He didn't even know if he could do anything. So it was that he found himself alone in his darkened room dressed for bed and pacing back and forth. Grandfather had made him promise to take care ol Klyd in spite of himself, and not to let anyone suspect that Zeor would send an unqualified Companion with their most valuable channel.

Entran. Yenava had been so upset about Grandfather suffering from it while Klyd escaped completely. Valleroy wondered if maybe Klyd was punishing himself for some imagined wrong to Grandfather.

Or maybe Klyd was afraid of him because of the anger be felt when Klyd had been faking entran to gain them privacy. Well, thought Valleroy, that would be a switch... Sime fears Gen.

Still now knowing what he was going to do, Valleroy pulled on his night robe and crossed the suite to Klyd's door. On impulse, he opened the door without knocking and went in.

The room was dark, draperies drawn so even starlight was cut off. "Hugh! What... ?"

Homing on Klyd's voice, Valleroy struck out across the floor. "Sectuib, I have a grave matter to discuss with you. A matter involving the pride of Zeor."

"What's happened?"

"Nothing yet. That's the problem."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I. Tell me what is it a Companion can do to make a channel listen to reason?"

"Oh... now I see. Nashmar and Loyce have been after you!"

"Just Loyce. He seems to think the situation is critical."

"These people are Imil, not Zeor. They have little conception of what we can do when we want to."

"I'm thinking, perhaps you don't really want to... or you wouldn't go around looking like an incipient disaster."

Klyd was silent, invisible in the dark. Valleroy thought he wasn't going to answer. But then the channel got up and went to the window, drawing open the drapes. The stars were bright and clear. The moon cast long shadows across the fields and illuminated the room.

"Entran is painful, isn't it, Sectuib?"

"But trivial."

"Not for Harrises, according to Loyce. What makes Farrises different?"

Klyd opened the window so he could breathe deeply of the cold night air. In the dimness, Valleroy could just see that the channel was drenched in sweat. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost too controlled. "There is a theory that the Sime mutation is still evolving. We've classified eight distinct Sime variants, none of which is ideal. The Farris family produces the channels of the highest capacities and greatest tolerances. We also suffer from the widest range of ailments unknown among others. Entran complications are only a minor part of that."

"If Denrau were here, wouldn't he do what was needed to avoid complications?"

"You're not Denrau."

"I know." Valleroy sat down on the bed. He found himself wishing forlornly that his mother hadn't fled Sime Territory but had joined a Householding instead. Watching the channel, Valleroy saw him start to shiver in the cold air. He went to the window, hand out to close it. Klyd's hands were there before his. The sensitive laterals were half extended, seeking the cold to numb the pain. The contact was made before Valleroy realized what was happening. Klyd's hands closed over his, tense but gentle.

Valleroy said, "I promise not to be angry this time, if you promise not to fake it."

With a swift surge of movement, Klyd turned full toward him, gripping his wrists in that peculiar hold. He laid his head on the Gen shoulder, face averted, not seeking the fifth contact point of transfer. Valleroy almost staggered as the channel's full weight came against him. He didn't feel anything happening except the nearly imperceptible vibration of the moist laterals against his skin.

An instant later, Klyd stood erect. "How did you... ?" He shook his head, bewildered. "I thought you didn't know how to induce-"

"I don't know," said Valleroy, shaken. "If there's anything more I should do, you'll have to tell me... before Imil finds out I didn't do it."

"You wanted to do that to me, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"No, of course you don't," said Klyd wonderingly. "Not yet." He sat down on the bed.

"Stop talking in riddles."

"There's another theory," the channel continued, as if he hadn't heard. "The theory of the symmetry of nature. If there are so many different types of Simes, there must also be different types of Gens."

"I don't follow you."

"No, I don't suppose you do. Perhaps it's just as well. Right now, you'd better get some sleep."

"You do feel better?"

"Yes."

Valleroy retreated to the door, still not sure what exactly he'd done. As he opened the door, Klyd called, "Naztehr..."

"Yes, Sectuib."

"Thank you. Denrau couldn't have been better."

"You're welcome," said Valleroy, surprised to find that he really meant it.

The next morning, as Valleroy worked his way from one studio to the next, he often caught glimpses of Loyce studying him covertly. During the noon break, Valleroy wiped his hands on a rag and approached the Companion. "Good morning."

"It certainly is!" Loyce agreed. He glanced around to make sure there was nobody within earshot "He's magnificent this morning. How did you do it? I couldn't have managed with less than a transfer."

Valleroy didn't have a chance to reply. Just then Brennar came in with a rack of wedding dresses from which Valleroy was to select the ones he wanted to sketch.

Later that afternoon, three of Imil's lovely girls came through escorting the three new candidates. Valleroy scarcely had time to wave, though he knew they passed behind him several times. When they left, he got the vague impression they were headed for a tour of the fields.

Shortly after that, the Sectuib's flying squad swept into the studio clearing the way and making ready for the galloping administrator, who followed right on their heels.

"Sectuib Nashmar," said Valleroy, rising from his last sketch.