"I know. We all do what we must. Come on." He led H'lim and the four Brink's guards to his apartment, ignoring the wary looks and hard stares the party drew. Leaving the four men outside, he entered and held the door for H'lim who waited on the threshold, one hand raised as if resting on gla.s.s. "Come in, H'lim, and welcome." Cloaking his words, he added, "I didn't know if you'd feel the threshold."

H'lim nodded. "What I can't stand about that room they have me in-it's like trying to live in a hallway."

"Humans don't sense the threshold as we do. Even if you had a proper room, they'd come and go like that."

"I have to stop it, t.i.tus, or I'll surely go mad."

"We'll arrange something tomorrow." As he prepared the blood, he asked, "Do you really sense magnetic noise, as Abbot said?" He gestured for H'lim to sit at the table.

"Yes," the luren answered.

t.i.tus folded his arms and leaned back against the sink. "I don't. How bad is it for you?"

He looked away. "If Abbot's truly built a bed, I will discover that soon."

"You can trust Abbot's gadgets. What can I do to help?"

"Take my mind off it. Tell me why you took Inea from me." He looked young, lost and alone, bewildered and scared.

"I'll try." t.i.tus started with how Abbot had taken Mirelle from him, and how he'd vowed never to do that, and then had no other choice. He struggled to explain what Inea meant to him, and was relieved when the microwave bleeped.

"I think I understand," said H'lim. "She is both mate and orl to you. It must be intolerable."

"No," said t.i.tus, holding the pitcher and wishing Inea were there to infuse it instead of his having to do it himself. She's safer with Abbot. H'lim would gain ectoplasm, but t.i.tus would only lose in this meal. "No, H'lim, it's the only tolerable situation for me."

"I-see."

As they shared the meal, t.i.tus observed, "You've become pretty good manipulating humans without using Influence. I can't believe you learned it from me that quickly."

"I'm a stock breeder and a merchant. Though non-luren don't have much use for my stock, I deal with them for supplies. They frown on the use of Influence in business."

"I can imagine." Vivid pictures danced through t.i.tus's mind of a galaxy where luren were ostracized and feared. "Shall I make up another pitcher?"

"No. Your supply is low and it won't be long until there is Orl blood. I will share it with you, and Abbot."

"They'll keep a close accounting."

"I'll tell them I need more than I do. I must help you, as you must help Abbot if he has trouble. He has offered you his stringers more than once."

"I've explained why I can't accept."

"Yes." H'lim toyed with the last drop of blood in his gla.s.s. "If you know where Inea got that thing she used on me-"

"The cross?" t.i.tus laughed. He told H'lim how she'd done the same to him and why. "It helps, but it is in even more limited supply than blood!"

"A religious object," he mused. Eyes veiled, he paused to think and t.i.tus waited, avid for any clue to H'lim's religion. "Well," said H'lim, changing the subject, "there may be another way I can help. I note that you, more than Abbot even, tend to produce a bit of your own sustenance. Perhaps this is a trait from your human ancestry. You said once that you have more human ancestors than Abbot does."

t.i.tus knew he produced his own blood faster than Abbot did, but ectoplasm too? "How could you see such a thing? I really have to study your eyes!"

"And I have to study your genes-your real ones, not the fabrication in the medical records. There's a stimulant we use on orl, you might call it a-booster for blood and ectoplasm both. I can adapt it to work on you through your human traits. Just get me tissue from you and from Abbot, and convince Dr. Colby to allow me access to a laboratory."

t.i.tus was hungry enough that the idea didn't seem too exotic. "They'll balk at turning you loose in a laboratory."

"Tell them I'm improving my food supply. It'll be true, after all, for if you're supplied, you'll provide for me."

That simple trust moved t.i.tus more deeply than he could believe possible. It sustained him throughout the tedious business of tuning Abbot's field generator, through H'lim's hysterical relief when he tried it, through Inea's impatience as he insisted on stopping at his office to record his report for Connie, and through the argument with Inea when she proposed asking another human to volunteer to support H'lim.

"What's the matter with you?" she demanded when t.i.tus refused to consider it. "He's starving, and he won't even insist on taking the volunteer to bed!"

"That's the problem!" retorted t.i.tus, hunger eroding his patience. "Any such volunteer would sicken and die! Humans aren't orl. s.e.x with another human isn't enough."

"How do you know!"

t.i.tus sighed and quit keyboarding his report. "I've seen those of my blood cause a lot of death in a lot of different ways. If you doubt me, ask Abbot."

Inea recoiled, stung. t.i.tus finished his report. She said, "Well, then maybe you could convince him to take the volunteer to bed? After all, I finally accepted you."

"He'd never do it. He thinks of orl as animals!"

"But humans are not orl!" she insisted.

"It doesn't matter. He'd never be potent with a human."

"Did you ask him?"

"I don't know him well enough yet."

"If you're supposed to be his father, you're supposed to tell him about the birds and bees."

t.i.tus laughed. The release felt good, and when Inea joined in, he reveled in it. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw text from Connie scroll onto his screen.

Inea read over his shoulder. "Bamaby Peter? That's the ship you arrived in. It doesn't usually carry much cargo."

"It's bringing the W.S. investigators. And this"-he indicated one of Connie's code groups-"means it's also bringing enough blood for me, H'lim, and Abbot, too. So we won't have to recruit another human volunteer-yet."

"The blood isn't all you need."

"We can survive on what we gather from human proximity."

"But-"

"Inea! It's become too dangerous to use Influence, and stringers are much too dangerous without Influence. If we can't manage, we'll have to either go dormant or die."

"You really mean that?"

He nodded, acknowledged Connie's message, and shut down. "Will you come home with me now, or are you too mad at me?"

She put her hands on his shoulders. "I'm more scared than mad. I don't want you to die."

He relaxed into the warmth of her touch. "I wasn't-not as long as you're willing to be mine." He lifted her hands off his shoulders. "Let's not start that here, though."

The next day, after cautioning H'lim not to invoke the slightest whiff of Influence, t.i.tus escorted him into the conference room flanked by a new set of four Brink's guards, two men and two women, who were punctilious but white-lipped.

Those at the long polished table were pinched and drawn. Conversation arrested, their eyes followed the alien around the table to his place at Colby's right. t.i.tus admired H'lim's composure and wondered if the ordinary clothing he'd been issued helped him feel less like a prisoner.

The seat reserved for H'lim had extra s.p.a.ce around it and was between t.i.tus and Abbot. There was no water gla.s.s or electronic doodling pad in front of H'lim's place, and the computer terminal there was locked. t.i.tus shoved his pad in front of H'lim, demonstrating its controls, then used his master key to unlock the terminal while he remarked to one of the Brink's guards, "We're short one pad here."

The woman looked to Colby who sketched a nod. Before long, the pad was produced. Enabling the large screen en the wall behind her to display their graphs, Colby called them to order, inviting each to report on the effect H'lim's escape had had on their work.

t.i.tus marveled at the furor sparked by the escape. The station was being scoured for biological contamination; everyone was to be put through a psychological and medical sieve; Brinks was investigating for laxity; a copy of the computer records had been impounded; Food Services was shut down for sterilization and inst.i.tution of stricter procedures; Environmental was double-screening every technician's move from a remote location; locks were being changed; the gym showers and swimming pool had been shut down; and progress on the probe had halted because all of these measures required staggering numbers of staff hours.

As each department head reported, t.i.tus saw the others darting covert glances at H'lim who listened impa.s.sively, jotting notes in luren script. The proceeding took on the aspect of a trial, with H'lim the defendant. When at last Accounting gave an estimate of the cost of it all, it was as if H'lim had been indicted for grand larceny. The point was not lost on the luren merchant.

"It does not stop there," announced Colby. "Each of us will undergo psychological testing at short intervals. The tests will be administered and evaluated from Luna Station. Furthermore, every official decision, every act of every technician, will be evaluated at Luna Station. Personnel are en route aboard Barnaby Peter to Luna to set up a department there, and new landlines will be laid to carry the data without solar interference. Aberrant behavior or hypnotic influence will be detected immediately.

"Also aboard Barnaby Peter are the World Sovereignties investigators, a group now composed of volunteers who'll share our quarantine for the duration. Half of them will remain in Luna Station to review the decisions of those who come here.

"Are there any additions, suggestions, or questions?"

Absolute stillness wrapped those at the table. When Colby glanced down to consult her notes, H'lim said softly, "Dr. Colby, may I speak?"

Her head snapped up, then she scanned the tense faces about the table. Every eye was on H'lim. t.i.tus suddenly wondered if anyone would note a resemblance between H'lim and the two Earth-luren flanking him. He had to restrain the surge of Influence that came unbidden. The meeting was being recorded and Influence wouldn't fool the recorders.

"As a matter of fact, the issues connected to your future situation are next on the agenda." Scanning the grim faces, she announced, "Dr. Sa'ar has the floor."

H'lim had heard the phrase more than a dozen times now, and copied the human mannerisms with haunting exact.i.tude. "I understand I have put you to trouble and expense. The manner in which I did this is more disturbing to you than I had expected. I have made a grave error. I wish to explain and to offer to make amends. Would this be out of order?"

"Not at all," replied Colby.

H'lim painted a graphic picture of his awakening and confinement, emphasizing the control the humans had exerted on his information access. He cited the promised s.p.a.cesuit that never arrived, and the "magnetic noise," the lack of privacy, and a pattern of deprivation that seemed to him to have been engineered by an expert in his people's physiology.

"When you asked me to construct a message to draw a ship here, I entertained two hypotheses. Either you were exactly what you said you were, or you were enemies bent on using me against my own kind. I had to ascertain the truth. I discovered, to my chagrin, that my suspicions were groundless."

Colby asked, "What precisely had you suspected us of? Who did you think we might be?"

H'lim gazed at the terminal set into the table. "You are like enough to one of the known species that you might have been recruited from them."

"But you admitted to me," said Colby, "that you had contact with t.i.tus's mind. Surely, had this been an elaborate deception, you would have learned of it?"

"Not necessarily, though that would have been the most difficult and expensive part of the deception, and so the stakes would have had to have been very high. I'm a stock breeder, a merchant, an ordinary working man, not a spy. These matters are wholly beyond me. But I'm now convinced that you are what you say you are, and that therefore I owe you a great debt.

"If you will launch your probe, then I will supply the message you requested. But I must know if you intend the probe to lure the respondent away from this solar system. If you were to signal from here, with the more powerful ground-based equipment, there would be a greater chance of attracting attention quickly, so later winning trust."

"Of those very people," said Colby, "whom you thought had kidnapped you? Whom you thought had tried to brainwash you with well designed torture? Who are those people who look so much like us?"

H'lim's eyes raked the tense humans. t.i.tus could hear his shallow breathing, but he did not raise Influence as he answered, "Figments of my disturbed imagination, no doubt."

"I doubt it," said Colby.

Eyes fixed on his terminal, H'lim elaborated. "I have been told of well-funded espionage conducted between rival firms on your world. Your species is not so dissimilar from those of the galaxy. There are always wealthy individuals who would do drastic things to quadruple their wealth.

"I was escorting a herd of specially bred stock, my own product, and a closely guarded secret. Possession of that secret could have quadrupled the wealth of those who could afford to stage such a deception against me. Your work with the intact orl tissue supported that theory. The message you wanted me to write could have used my personal reputation to lure someone of even greater value than I into a trap."

He raised his eyes. "I understand that humility is valued among you. I apologize for not being humble about my value. I a.s.sure you, I do not exaggerate. Provide me freedom, privacy, and access to a well-equipped laboratory, and I'll help you with your next steps in conquering viral and genetic diseases. I won't "give' you anything that would disrupt your civilization, but just the tools to meet galactic civilization with confidence."

H'lim focused on the recorder up in the corner of the room and spoke to those on Earth. "I'm only one person, isolated here, surrounded by vacuum, under heavy guard-and already my existence has disrupted the affairs of your world. But if you were confident, then there would be no disruption, not even at the arrival of a shipload of galactics. I offer you contact on an even footing with a huge commerical market. I ask only your help in surviving and returning home."

t.i.tus could not have written a better presentation, but then H'lim's rhetorical style in English was no doubt derived from t.i.tus's own. It was almost too good. It was eerie. An alien should seem more-alien.

Colby took charge, aborting a dozen private arguments. "Dr. Sa'ar has spoken very persuasively, but the matter will not be decided here. Dr. Mihelich has repeatedly confirmed that we are in no danger of biological contamination. Dr. Sa'ar has not, even under extreme provocation, injured anyone. We are fully isolated here, and our actions will have no consequences on Earth-unless we lose Dr. Sa'ar's good will by mistreating him. Therefore, I am ordering Lab 620, across from Dr. Mihelich's lab, turned over to Dr. Sa'ar. I am searching for suitable private quarters for our guest, and will provide guards and staff to aid him."

The main screen flashed white, then resolved into an exterior of G.o.ddard Station, with an announcer's voice-over. ". enormous destruction! It's getting hard to breathe in here!" He was screaming over a background roar. t.i.tus made out chunks of debris spreading from a gaping hole in the station's wheel. "-take you now to Quito Orbital Control, Max Simon reporting. Max?"

The image shifted to a shirt-sleeved reporter muttering aside to someone, "Oxygen masks up there?" Then he touched the b.u.t.ton in his ear and glanced at the camera. "Oh. Good morning from Quito Control. Here we've been getting conflicting reports of the explosion." Behind him, a large screen held another view of G.o.ddard. "Only one thing is absolutely certain. Nothing is left of Barnaby Peter. According to scanners here at Quito, none of the pieces is larger than a man. I have-" His hand went to his ear again, and his manner changed.

"We have a bulletin just in, and for that we return to Terry Rogers at Houston."

The scene shifted to the fountain plaza of the familiar Orbital Control Center building in Houston. A brunette in a yellow silk suit held a microphone between herself and a young man with thick gla.s.ses and a fringe of beard. "Dr. Raymond Sills here will comment on. oh?" She glanced off camera, to someone who handed her a flimsy, then started again. "I'm sorry. This just in. A group calling itself the Coalition of Earth Advocates has claimed responsibility for the destruction of Barnaby Peter and the World Sovereignties Investigative Board. Their spokesperson-"

She cut off as another flimsy was shoved into her hand and someone whispered off camera, "No, no, read this!"

She began again, "The Coalition of Earth Advocates is supported by-oh my G.o.d!" She went white.

Yet another paper appeared before her, and the top of a head bobbed into the shot. t.i.tus could see the young bearded man's arm supporting the reporter for an instant, and then she stood on her own feet again, took a deep breath and declaimed in the calm but grave voice of a reporter covering a funeral, "I have here official confirmation that the Coalition of Earth Advocates is supported by sixteen countries formerly signatory to the World Sovereignties compact. They have, as of this date, seceded from our union. We take you now to World Sovereignties headquarters."

The screen showed the cavernous General a.s.sembly room, a scattering of delegations present and more arriving by the minute. At the lectern stood a swarthy, turbaned man with a full black beard reading a statement in the ponderous style necessitated by simultaneous translation.

". do not declare war upon those still signatory to the World Sovereignties compact. We have banded together to Protect all of Earth, and to do so, we will use our military might block any action of World Sovereignties that endangers our species. To this end, we the undersigned nations of Earth, declare Project Station under full blockade. Project Hail's probe will never lift, their signal never go out. Project Station is now elated and those within left to die in the arms of their G.o.ds. Never again will any human being set foot on or near Project Station. We hereby declare it forbidden!"

Chapter eighteen.

The department heads watched the coverage for two hours until it began to repeat. Twenty key W.S. figures a.s.serted that the probe would go on schedule and that the station would be resupplied even if the blockading nations had to be defeated militarily. No one on the station believed this would remain a unanimous opinion, or that supplies would arrive soon.

The next three hours were spent creating a new, tighter rationing schedule, and when they finally broke up, Colby had the unenviable job of presenting their immediate, urgent needs list to Irene Nagel.

The moment t.i.tus was free to leave his seat, he charged out the door, heading for his lab and his only link to Connie. Fractionally ahead of the others, he reached the lifts while they were still clear. In his lab, he found his people glued to the screens watching the coverage of the blockade or the stations official announcement of rationing.

They turned to him the moment he appeared. Dismay, indignation, even rage colored their fear. They had all accepted the hazards of lunar duty, but none had signed on to fight a war, harbor a living alien, or die on the moon.

"I say we should execute that unnatural beast!" shouted someone. "Finish what the crash started. Then-"