She was tempted to make a flippant remark questioning how he could remember it all, but the slits in his eyes had narrowed to almost nothing. His flat nostrils flared, and his mouth was set in a hard line. She had the uneasy feeling-and it was so uneasy she wanted to squirm beneath his relentless stare-they had crossed a boundary, moved past some point they could never return to. They had entered another realm of the Zi zone of their relationship, and she had no earthly idea what it was. If she had to ask, she would disappoint him. Asking what he meant would wound him beyond repair. She could do neither to him at this moment when he looked so solemn and, yes, lost.

"My name is Catherine Leith McClure," she said. It seemed lacking in depth and history compared to his, and she added, "I was given my mother's maiden name and my father's surname and I am called Leith."

"Leith," he repeated softly.

He held out his hand to her, bracing himself with the crutch. She remembered how the Paxian had grasped his arm, not his hand, as a gesture of friendship and trust. She raised her hand high enough to grip his arm, but he moved his hand into hers instead.

At some point, he had removed his gloves.

His cool fingers lay matched to hers briefly, then entwined with them even more briefly before slipping around her thumb and grasping the heel of her hand. Her smooth, pale skin against his tawny-umber texture const.i.tuted a study in contrast.

She didn't have to pull herself to her feet. He brought her up without a change in expression or a sound. Among humans, she wasn't considered a small woman. At 180 centimeters, she was tall, inheriting the McClure statuesque frame. She was impressed with the way he hadn't shifted a millimeter, had lifted her with one hand as easily as he would lift a rag doll. She'd never met a human male who could do that.

"Thank you," Leith said and smiled at him. She wondered if he would ever smile back. Maybe the Zi never smiled, but that didn't mean he couldn't. Finding a way to make him smile might easily turn into a life-long project. What else did she have to do for the next five or six decades? If they survived that long.

Their hands held for a moment longer than necessary, then he let go and looked up at the sky. "We ssshould move on," he said, and he sounded like rustling dry leaves again. "We have lossst enough daylight already."

"Are you sure you-" Leith began, but his eyes cut to her sharply. She bit off the rest of what she intended to say. Instead of asking if he was sure he shouldn't rest longer, she began again. "Are you sure we're headed in the right direction?"

"I am sssure of nothing except that if we do not find water and ssshelter we will die." He jerked on his gloves. "If Hanc.o.c.k had left usss on a desssert world, I could find water by the lay of the land or the texture of the sssand. But here...everything isss covered by treesss, gra.s.ss, and green plantsss. Here- sss't!"

Viciously, he stabbed his crutch into the ground and started up the slope in the direction they'd been heading all morning. After pulling on the flightpack, Leith followed behind, trying to make sense of what had happened between them.

J'Qhir glanced back once to make sure she followed, then turned his eyes to the ground. He had to watch where he placed the staff or he would stumble and fall and disgrace himself further. His free hand b.u.mped the hilt of the knife at his waist, a reminder of his debt.

He held out his hand and would not have been surprised to see tendrils of smoke curling from the tips of the glove. His fingers and palm stung from the contact with hers. His knee burned, but not only from the injury. He could still feel the imprint of her hands, each spot where a finger connected with his skin a concentrated pinpoint of heat. Like an uncontrolled youngling, his leg had twitched as his vha'seh tightened in response to her accidental touch. She thought she had hurt him. He was relieved she did not know what she actually did to him.

Her actions had prompted him to give her his na'ajh-his soul or spirit. No exact equivalent existed in her language. By the slight wrinkling of the delicate arches of hair on her brow and the puzzlement in her round eyes, she did not comprehend why he had given her his veiled name. She had not questioned him aloud so she understood the importance of the gift. It was enough for now.

They walked throughout the afternoon in silence. The shuffling of their feet, the tap of his staff, and the relentless crackle of cones being broken open the only sounds. She had filled her pockets and began filling his.

She kept several paces behind like a sa'aloh should... She would take offense, and he allowed himself a small smile since she was behind him and could not see. Then she had stepped closer and placed her closed fist into his jacket pocket.

By every grain of sand on Zi, he could feel her heat through the thick material. She filled that pocket, then started on another, lower one. Why in the name of the rock did war jackets have so many pockets? He stabbed the ground with his staff every time her hand entered one.

Late in the afternoon, they came across a little bush covered in bright yellow berries. Her round eyes grew rounder as she shot past him and scooped up a handful. She had almost put them to her lips before she remembered to a.n.a.lyze them.

"Well?" His mouth watered at the thought of something besides dry protein bars and nutmeats.

"We wouldn't die," she said as she threw the berries to the ground and stomped them, "but we'd be puking our guts out."

J'Qhir sighed. "Not a plea.s.ssant consssequence."

"Looks like it's nuts for supper," she said with a false smile.

Wearily, he nodded.

Long before time to set up camp, as they pa.s.sed an expansive thicket of thorn bushes, Leith halted in her tracks and tossed the flightpack to the ground.

"I'm too tired to take one more step!" She looked at him as if she dared him to argue, then settled in the shade of the largest tree.

He said nothing. His knee throbbed dully and needed rest also. He found a sunny spot, remembering to shift the knife to a more comfortable place before easing his c.u.mbersome bulk to the ground.

The knife.

He would wait until they found or built a permanent shelter before performing the ritual. The actual ceremony lasted two exhausting Zi days and included fasting. He did not have the strength to follow these strictures now. Perhaps later, if he could do so without Leith discovering his intentions.

His eyes slipped over her still form, stretched out in the dying gra.s.s. Once again, he wished for the opportunity to lie atop her, merely for the pleasure of the experience. How would she react? Twice they had been pressed body-to-body, and he had seen no distaste in her round eyes. Would she be offended if he- Sss't. Speculation was fruitless. She was qa'anh'al, and he was too old to waste his time on such things.

He forced his attention to the knife. His fingers ran along the smooth, unornamented handle. On Zi, he would have use of his clan blade. The ancient hilt had been ornately carved from wood gathered on the mountain nearest the Bh'rin'gha by an ancestor several millennia ago. Here, on Paradise, this plain knife would be just as effective.

He would try to perform the entire ritual, but if Leith proved too curious, he would execute the last part, use the knife, and accept the result. Leith would know nothing about it until he was finished, and then it would be too late. Certainly, she would look at him in disgust, but he would have to accept her disfavor. He felt a deep need to pay for his incompetence.

The sun sank lower and shade moved over him. When the first of the chill winds began, Leith awoke and rubbed her eyes.

"You shouldn't have let me sleep so long."

"You needed the ressst."

"But you're getting cold." She brought out the solar film and helped him secure it. Once more she had to gather wood while he sat idle, mindful of his injuries. He had whiled away the time he could have helped, his thoughts consumed with a rite that held no meaning on this planet. Or in her eyes. Survival should be his main concern at all times, at all costs. Could he be any more useless?

Thus, he had failed again.

He struggled to his feet and gathered what material he could find to start a fire. He had watched Leith and knew what was needed-dry leaves and gra.s.s, twigs, and small branches. He gathered them in a pile as she had done. When she returned with an armload of deadfall, he looked at her expectantly.

"Isss thisss the correct way?"

She tilted her head to one side, unconsciously mimicking his kind's way of displaying perplexity. He took no offense. He found the mannerism agreeable. It made her seem more familiar, more Zi... Is that what he wanted? Did he wish for her to be more like his own kind so that she would be more acceptable?

"You don't know how to build a fire?" The arches of hair over her eyes furrowed as she sank to her knees and laid the wood beside the small pyre he had prepared.

"On Zi, flammable matter sssuch a.s.ss wood is ssscarce. When heat or light isss needed, we ussse the glowing ssstonesss."

"Glowing stones?" Leith brought out the laserlight and set the leaves and twigs aflame.

"Yesss." He picked up a piece of wood as big around as his fist and twice as long. "The ssstonesss are plentiful on Zi and found buried deep within the mountainsss. They are made of a clear ssstone that trapped a natural chemical when it formed. When the ssstone isss ssshaken, a reaction between the liquid and ssstone generatesss heat and light."

She fed larger pieces of the wood to the growing fire then stopped suddenly. She grabbed his hand and held it between hers. Her warmth seeped through the thick gloves, and he wished desperately that he had removed them.

"Don't you realize what you have? Instead of your jewels, you should have been trading the glowing stones! They would be worth a small fortune on the market." Then, quite suddenly, she withdrew her hands from his and began placing more wood on the fire. The radiance left her face, and her smooth brow creased in a frown. "You could have exchanged them for the cargo."

He didn't understand her change in att.i.tude unless she thought she had overstepped some boundary by touching him in a familiar way. He wanted her hands to hold his again, to have this small connection to her, but she moved away to the far side of the fire, cold and distant, in dimension as well as disposition.

J'Qhir wrapped himself tightly in the solar film. This night was not as cold as the previous one. When Leith curled up close to the fire without another word, he knew he would not have to share the solar film tonight.

Something had happened, and this time it was he who did not know the meaning of it at all.

Chapter 5.

The shallow stream bubbled over smooth pebbles embedded in the sandy bottom. Leith leaned over the muddy bank and saw her reflection for the first time in days-tangled hair framing a dirt-smudged face. She wanted nothing more than to plunge into its refreshing coolness. She looked at it longingly and withdrew the omnilyzer. Offering a silent prayer, she aimed the laser eye into the stream.

A few bacteria, but nothing a human body couldn't adjust to. Zi? She didn't know and neither would the Commander. They took it on faith that his physiology was similar enough to human to be safe.

Leith put the gadget away and dipped her hands in, washing away two days' worth of dirt and grime. She splashed her face and scrubbed it clean. At last, she enjoyed the luxury of fresh water spilling through her mouth and down her throat. The dew they had collected the first morning had the musty taste of leaves and a sharp metallic tang from the canteen. It had saved them from dehydration but wasn't very palatable.

When Leith had drunk all she could, she dunked her head completely into the stream and washed her hair. Her scalp had itched for two days. She wished Steve had thrown in a bottle of shampoo among all the other useless things. She squeezed out as much water as she could, then finger-combed the tangles out.

She dumped the last of the dew, rinsed the canteen, and refilled it.

Now to find the Commander.

J'Qhir.

He had stopped calling her sa'aloh and now used Leith. After he told her his long, unwieldy name, she a.s.sumed he wanted her to call him J'Qhir, the only word she'd recognized. She had yet to say it out loud. It was difficult for her to think of him other than the Commander.

If she used his given name, wouldn't they become more...intimate? Would he consider it an insult if she didn't? More importantly, should she even care?

Last night, when he explained about the glowstones, she thought she'd found a way to save his precious jewels and perhaps bolster the Zi economy. Then reality had hit her in the mid-section like a laserblast. Whether it was jewels or glowstones, they traded illegally for weapons of war. And this Zi Warrior had somehow convinced her father to be a part of it.

How could she have forgotten?

She had lost sight of that important fact while they were at Steve's mercy and as they struggled to survive on this unknown planet. How could she maintain her integrity and fight her overwhelming attraction to the Commander while facing possibly decades with him as her sole companion?

Leith didn't think she could.

Flights of fancy were one thing. Leith could do whatever she wished in the fantasies in her own mind without compromising her principles. This was reality. She and the Commander... J'Qhir were the only two people on this planet, and they probably were going to be here the rest of their lives.

Leith took one last, long drink of water. Now was not the time for introspection. She needed to find the Commander and lead him back to the stream. She hated to leave, afraid she wouldn't be able to find it again. For whatever reason, the mapping function in the omnilyzer didn't work. She could return the way she had come and use the k-counter to track how far she traveled in kilometers. If she could remember landmarks as well, she might succeed in bringing the Commander to the water.

Not the Commander, J'Qhir.

She practiced his name aloud, "J'Qhir." She liked the way the sounds moved in her mouth-the soft j, the hard k sound followed by an extra breathy rush of air, the roll of "eer" over her tongue. She repeated it. Maybe by the time she found him, she could use it as easily as he used hers.

On the other side of the stream stood a tall tree, long s.h.a.ggy limbs hugging close to the trunk as they reached for the sky. Leith would keep that tree in sight as she headed in the direction she thought she had come.

Splitting up had been the Commander-J'Qhir's idea. She had awakened stiff and sore from sleeping on the ground. A night's sleep hadn't eased her resentment. She remained aloof while they ate from their meager supplies in silence. She remained unmoved by his dismay. She knew he had no idea what had disturbed her the night before, but she was in no mood to broach the subject of illegal cargo.

When J'Qhir had proposed they search in different directions, she had voiced her objections. She had no experience at that sort of thing. Just as she'd been afraid of losing him in the twisted tree forest the first night, she now feared losing him and never finding him again.

"You are more capable than you think, Leith," he rea.s.sured her. "But if you think you are lossst, ssstay in one place and I will come for you."

Patiently, he had explained they could cover twice the area in the same amount of time. He sounded as if he had confidence in her and her ability. She couldn't bring herself to object again. His amber eyes might register disappointment. He might make that sound of exasperation, "Sss't!"

Now, Leith grinned. She couldn't wait for the opportunity to explain how closely that sounded to a Terran expletive.

Leith had wanted to use his injured knee as an excuse, but she knew he already felt inadequate because of it. In the end, she conceded against her better judgment.

Looking back over her shoulder, Leith could still see the tall, slim tree in the distance. The k-counter read two-thirds of a kilometer. What would that be in miles? Converting metric to the obsolete system was an old game of hers. On Earth, the United States had been the last country to go metric in the latter half of the twenty-first century, mainly because s.p.a.ce travel became feasible and metric was more exact.

Two hundred years ago, distance was measured in inches, feet, and miles. Weight in ounces and pounds. Volume in cups, pints, and quarts. There were yards, tons, and bushels. Those confused her sometimes. Now, what was the formula to convert kilometers to miles?

She glanced over her shoulder again and- The tree was nowhere in sight! She stopped and her heart fluttered. If she lost the tree, she lost the water and their only hope of survival. How could she be so stupid as to preoccupy her mind with nonsense again? J'Qhir had no business thinking her capable of anything or entrusting her with the simplest of tasks.

She keyed off the counter and backtracked, paying attention this time. Now, she saw how the land swelled into a gentle rise then receded behind her. She had walked over it without noticing, and as she descended the slope, the crest had come between her and the tree.

Had she come from this direction in the first place? She couldn't remember crossing the rise before finding the stream. Nothing looked familiar, none of the short scrubby trees or the sprawling bushes. Oh, why had she agreed to the separation?

She should sit down and wait for J'Qhir to find her. She didn't doubt he could do it, but it might take hours. It might be nightfall before he came upon her, when the wild beasts roamed and howled. No. She couldn't wait for J'Qhir to rescue her. She had to find a way back to the clearing.

By carefully examining the area close to the stream, Leith was able to pick up her original trail. She set the k-counter again. She recognized this way. The ground did not swell and surge. Yes, she remembered the two bushes that twisted together peculiarly. And the broken branch where she'd caught her jacket.

Feeling more confident, she glanced back often to make sure the tall tree was still in sight. She purposely broke many branches along the way and replaced the tall thin tree with a taller dead tree in her line of sight. Luck was with her because three hours later, the same amount of time it had taken her to find the stream, she found the clearing beside the thorn bush patch where she and J'Qhir had parted.

Commander J'Qhir had not yet returned.

Leith threw down her jacket and flightpack, then rested in the shade. She munched on cone nuts and sipped the fresh water. She was tired but growing accustomed to physical exertion. Anxious to tell the Commander about the stream, she wished he would hurry.

How long should she wait for him? An hour? Two? What if he never came, attacked by one of the beasts that roared in the night. What if she searched and found the tawny-umber remains- A huge black ma.s.s started to move across the sky, and Leith scooted further under the tree. She leaned against the trunk and watched as the birds made their way to warmer climes. It was the second flock she'd seen since their arrival. Warmer climes...south for the winter... If birds on Paradise acted the same as birds on Earth, she now knew which way was south! She could tell J'Qhir in which direction they should travel when it turned spring.

When the birds had pa.s.sed over, Leith stretched out again. Just as she settled, a distant drone slowly crept into her consciousness. The buzzing sound, not unlike Terran bees amplified many times over, grew louder with each pa.s.sing second. Whatever made the noise moved at high speed in her direction.

Leith climbed to her feet and watched. Over the treetops a dark cloud swelled into mammoth proportions. The writhing ma.s.s filled most of the southwestern sky, partially blocking the sun, and in no way resembled the flock of birds that had just moved overhead. She stood frozen in indecision.

At that moment, J'Qhir broke through the trees at a dead run. He yielded to his injured knee, but his long legs covered ground faster than she ever could. Gasping for air, he shouted one word, "Run!"

Leith turned and ran.

She headed for the dense forest beyond the clearing and the thorn bushes. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, but J'Qhir caught up with her quickly. So did the advance guard of the horde of flying creatures.

As J'Qhir took hold of her arm, several of the flyers shot past them. One turned in mid-flight and hovered in the air a few seconds. Although as large as a Terran hawk, it resembled a dragonfly. Several sets of wings buzzed noisily on a long, narrow body that tapered to a stinger point and curled underneath. Just as the insect dove toward her, J'Qhir propelled her to the left. It sailed harmlessly past, so close that its wing tips brushed her cheek.

He shouted, but she couldn't hear him over the drone of the horde. He led them toward the thorn bushes. She tried to stop, but J'Qhir's vise-like grip wouldn't let her. She yelled at him that the forest was close, but he couldn't hear her either. She glanced back and saw the main body of flyers nearly upon them.

Leith folded her free arm over her face and allowed J'Qhir to catapult them into the tangled thicket. Needle-sharp thorns tore at her skin as she landed face down, the jolt knocking the breath from her chest. She wanted to remain very still so the flyers wouldn't see her, but J'Qhir hauled her forward. They crawled until the growth that had been beneath them sprang upward to close off the aperture they had created with their desperate leap.

Dozens of the flyers tried to maneuver through the bushes. Some impaled their slender bodies on the sharp thorns. Others shredded their wings and dangled helplessly in the lacework of branches. A few made it through and aimed directly for their tender flesh.

The Commander batted at the fragile bodies, crushing them with his gloved hands. Leith could only watch. Bare hands were no match for those stinger tails. One buzzed near her head and she screeched, instinctively moving closer to the Commander for protection. She drew her arms in under her and buried her face in the s.p.a.ce between his side and the ground, trying to make as small a target as possible.

She felt his body jerk to and fro as he fought the flyer. Its wings caught in her hair, and she waited for the sting. There was one last tug at her hair as the Commander grabbed it. Then she heard a sickening squelch. The horde had moved on, and she could hear once more. The Commander's gasps for breath were synchronous with her own.

Tentatively, she raised her head and shuddered at the sight of hundreds of flyers dying in the thicket around them. She rose to her knees, aware of stinging cuts on her arms and a scratch on her cheek. The Commander balanced on one knee and arm, his injured leg held out at an odd angle. She was about to ask if he was all right when she heard the angry buzz of a lone flyer behind her, drawing near. Before she could dodge it, the creature slammed into her back.