"One at a time. Don't let her take any home."

"Why would it bother Abbot? We're helping him!"

"Technically, it's an infraction. She wears his Mark. I should give him the pills."

"Then why don't you?"

"He'd never remember to give them to her, even if he thought it was a good idea. It's not a Tourist habit to care for stringers any more than you'd try to refill a pen. They're disposable."

"Ugh!"

"Besides, though he might not object to the pills making Mirelle last longer, he'd be furious at the risk of leaving them around where the human medics might find them. He'd cla.s.s that as endangering Earth's luren-which would be true. So be careful with them."

She shook the vial. "I'm holding your life in my hand."

"You have for weeks and weeks now. Nothing's changed."

"I love you, Darrell. I always have and always will." He bent to kiss her, but she recoiled. "Brush your teeth first."

He laid his cheek against hers and drank the sweetness into his soul. "And I want you to eat first."

The next morning, t.i.tus collected all the reports from his department, hastily a.s.similated the mountain of material and rearranged his list of possible target stars, stared at the data, then called H'lim. "Is your home star a binary?"

"Of course not! Binaries don't have inhabited planets!"

"I thought you didn't know anything about astronomy."

"I don't. Everyone knows that, though."

t.i.tus would have given his right arm and two gallons of blood for what "everyone knew" out there. "Are there two gas giants in the home system?"

"No, only one. I've told you what I know."

"Yeah." He'd told them of the s.p.a.ce stations and domed colonies, of tourist attractions and discount fare structures, but little that was of real use from here. "See you at the meeting."

He rearranged his list again, combed his hair, polished his shoes and went to the conference room.

Colby was late. They had the war news up on the big screen, bits and pieces compiled at Luna Station. As developments in different regions were covered, people in the room took sides, defending their homelands or attacking the enemies of their regions.

The moment Colby entered, though, silence fell. She looked as if she hadn't slept, but she was impeccably groomed. In dark tones, she announced that World Sovereignties official policy was now to run supplies through the blockade, with the first shipment due in a few days. It would be mostly parts for the probe, which was to be finished and launched in stripped form. Earth's and H'lim's message were to go as planned.

"If the probe penetrates the blockade, the secessionists will have lost their main point and their movement will die. The need then will be to unite Earth and prepare for contact. We will be Earth's first priority and no longer in danger."

Colby called for reports from all departments, finishing with t.i.tus, who could only offer them a 60 percent chance of success. "From Wild Goose we got not only a better fix on the craft's approach trajectory, but also half a dozen new possible stars that can't be seen from here. We're building a house of cards out of untested theories."

"If it's your best," replied Colby, "we go with it."

"Accuracy isn't important," supplied H'lim. "Anyone who hears it will relay the signal."

"So you've said before, and we're counting on it." Colby turned to Abbot. "We have to tap the blockaders' communications. Can you build a device to do that?"

"If I can have access to the Eighth Array to capture their bursts, I can build a decoder-maybe even a transmitter-so-we can jam or decoy them. I heard the com-techs talking this morning. I think we already know what frequencies they're on, and I can probably find a way to track them when they change frequencies."

"How soon?"

"I'll give you an estimate tomorrow."

The Eighth Array! But he can't send H'lim's message openly! He wished he'd tapped Abbot's ground link. What was he up to? He hadn't Influenced Colby, that was clear.

Then H'lim gave his first department report, revealing how very alien his thought processes were. All the required data was there, displaying a spectacular virtuosity and competence, but the organization was so bizarre not a single person at the tablea" except perhaps Abbot-followed a word of it. Colby a.s.signed him a ghostwriter as well as a secretary, both men drawn from the Cognitive Sciences staff and eager to study the alien.

The meeting broke up and they returned to work with a sense of tackling a gigantic but possible task. A few days later, the first W.S. blockade runners were destroyed by secessionist ships directly over the station. Debris rained down, holing one of the domes, but no one was hurt.

The tight surveillance continued on H'lim despite Biomed's excitement about what they were learning from him. It seemed he had considerable experience translating his science from one system to another. Nothing fazed him. That, perhaps more than anything, contributed to the distrust but he never Influenced the humans where they'd notice.

Watching Mirelle, t.i.tus saw her condition improve and not just from the occasional supplement Inea got into her. Abbot became haggard, gaunt-faced, and snappish. He was rationing himself hard. Inea's spy devices revealed how much time he spent at the Biomed computers. It was a struggle now to falsify Mirelle's tests, not to mention his own and t.i.tus's.

t.i.tus ached inside for his father, counting the hours until Mihelich's cloned orl blood became available. He was in his office watching Inea and Abbot out in the observatory, bent over the console that controlled the Eighth Array, when the call came from H'lim.

"Stop by my apartment as soon as you can, and bring Abbot. I have something to show you both."

The blood!

Chapter nineteen.

The black and white austerity of H'lim's apartment had been broken up by the makeshift mesh cages Abbot had installed around all the electrical devices and draped over part.i.tions that contained power cables. H'lim had p.r.o.nounced the measures acceptable in the wan tones of a teacher giving an E for Effort and then proclaimed the place his home.

Now, when Abbot strolled in unperturbed, t.i.tus had to pause at the threshold for invitation. Never had he felt such a strong barrier. Its surface stung his whole body.

H'lim reached out to him, pulling t.i.tus and Inea through while saying in the luren tongue, "Thank you for honoring my threshold." He added, "Your manners do you credit, since the threshold is merely symbolic."

"Symbolic?" repeated t.i.tus dazedly.

"Perhaps," added H'lim wistfully, "when I've regained my strength, I will again have a real home."

t.i.tus looked back at the now closed door, understanding anew the gulf between Earth's luren and genuine luren. He switched to English for Inea's sake. "I hope you don't mind that Inea came along? I can."

"It is to be expected," answered H'lim looking at Abbot, who had come alone. "You did understand my message? I have the first sample of genuine orl blood for you."

Abbot turned away and t.i.tus knew he was only pretending to examine his mesh installations. "Have you tried it yet?"

"Yes." H'lim's tone was curiously flat. "Andre insisted. It was a great trial to conceal."

H'lim's goggles angled toward Inea and t.i.tus said, "She's seen the worst. She won't be offended."

H'lim turned to study Abbot's back. "You know, don't you, t.i.tus?"

Overwhelmed with sympathy, t.i.tus asked, "You've never had to use cloned blood before, have you?"

"I thought I was prepared-after what you and the humans have been supplying me." He met t.i.tus's gaze steadily. "I wasn't."

"Mihelich-"

"I managed to choke it down without letting him see howa" inadequate-it was. At least it was orl, and that helps. I feel better than I have since I woke."

Neutrally, Abbot asked, "It's that much different, orl?"

"Yes!" With an eloquent shrug, H'lim apologized to Inea for his vehemence. "I hope it will help you as much as it does me. Here." He went to the kitchen counter where a large barrel-Thermos sat, the spigot thrust out over the sink. t.i.tus caught the hard glitter of barely suppressed esurience in Abbot's eye as they both converged on H'lim.

He took down two gla.s.ses, gorgeous examples of the unique lunar product. They were beautiful enough to have been exported to Earth rather than consigned to lunar use. It was cheaper to manufacture gla.s.s here out of rock and solar power than to lift it from Earth. And it was cheaper to recycle wash water than to use disposables. t.i.tus realized he was dwelling on the economics of lunar life to avoid admitting his own eagerness for the orl blood. "H'lim, have you any idea if this might be harmful to us?"

Filling a gla.s.s with the thick, purple-red fluid, he answered, cross-matched as best I could. There doesn't seem to be any gross incompatibility. But I've hardly started my a.n.a.lysis." He handed a gla.s.sful to Abbot and turned to fill one for t.i.tus. "It might, however, prove unpalatable."

As H'lim handed t.i.tus his gla.s.s, Abbot sniffed and then tasted his, expression unreadable. The fumes invaded t.i.tus's head, seeping through his brain and triggering responses he'd never felt before. His hand did not want to bring that gla.s.s up to his lips, but his hunger demanded it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Abbot's hand trembling, his face chiseled from granite as he tilted the gla.s.s. A distanced part of himself admired his father's self-control, knowing full well what this experiment was costing Abbot and knowing also that the Tourist could not have resisted the chance to taste orl, however artificial.

t.i.tus closed his eyes and tilted the warm fluid to his lips, touching it with his upper lip before sipping. The texture was wrong, the smell was wrong, but it wakened a searing hunger. His lip arched to let a drop past. It was dead, flat, like all reconst.i.tuted blood. But that was familiar, and his throat closed willing around the first runnel of the strange stuff.

He swallowed again, the odor filling his nose. On the fourth swallow, his gorge rose. Simultaneously, he heard Abbot stagger to the sink, and bend over retching, coughing, fighting for breath. Seconds later, t.i.tus shoved H'lim out of the way and joined his father, tied in knots. His brain seemed on fire and he needed to scream but couldn't.

Abbot's knees buckled, and from somewhere t.i.tus found the strength to grab him around the waist as together, almost in rhythm, they emptied themselves convulsively of every last drop of the foreign substance. As H'lim stood helplessly aside, Inea turned on the water to wash the stench away.

She made them rinse their mouths out with water, which almost triggered more retching, and said to H'lim, "I guess that experiment was a failure."

This jarred him into action. From somewhere, he produced a blood pressure monitor and a body fluid specimen collector. Pushing the two down into chairs, he administered a very thorough, very competent medical once-over sampling tears, saliva, blood, sweat, and vomitus while demanding an exact description of what had happened.

In the end, it appeared that t.i.tus had swallowed more than Abbot before experiencing the rejection, and the two rejections had been different.

"My eyes are still burning," said t.i.tus, "and my head feels full of hot coals."

"My stomach," said Abbot. "I've never had such cramps."

H'lim pondered for a moment, then speculated. "Abbot, perhaps it's just as well that you tried it unenergized at first and that caused you to reject it. It could be wholly incompatible with your metabolism. But t.i.tus-you seem to have had a central nervous system reaction. Nutrient had begun to pa.s.s into your blood before you rejected it."

"Those are the worst poisons," agreed t.i.tus. "I probably swallowed more than Abbot because I'm used to the flatness of uninfused chemical." He glanced at Inea. "It's a h.e.l.lishly difficult thing to learn to tolerate."

Abbot climbed to his feet. "Some difficult things are worth doing," he observed, "and some aren't. Thank you for the instructive experience, H'lim, but I won't try it again."

"Wait until I've done some more tests," protested H'lim. "I can tolerate human blood. Certainly you can-"

"If you clone an orl, I may consider trying it again." With that Abbot was gone.

t.i.tus glanced at Inea. "Maybe we should have tried to infuse his first?" Could I order her-even to feed Abbot?

H'lim said, "No, I don't think so. He might have drunk more, and it might have poisoned him."

"You think I'm poisoned?" The way his head felt, t.i.tus could easily believe he was about to die the final death.

"Your genetic makeup is very different from his. I think there's something in orl blood that your body is equipped to use, but that you've never encountered before."

"You mean that I'm more luren than he is? I don't think so. He's much older, has fewer human ancestors."

"Yes, that much is immediately evident. But the interbreeding has selected for different factors. It will take some time, but I can determine if orl blood is really a poison for him-or for you for that matter."

"Interbreeding," said t.i.tus heavily. "Just why is that even possible?"

Ignoring t.i.tus's direct question, as always, H'lim mused, "Perhaps I can filter out the incompatible factors for Abbot."

"It wouldn't be worth the time," said Inea unexpectedly.

"Why?" asked H'lim blankly.

"Haven't you figured Abbot out yet?" she asked. "It's not the blood that nourishes him, it's the subjugation. He is a vampire, not a luren."

H'lim frowned. t.i.tus, unsure if it was in disapproval or disagreement, changed the subject. "Inea's got a good point. We don't have time for pure research. You not only have to do this in odd moments stolen from Colby's work, but you have to hide it from everyone looking over your shoulder. Between the limited time and the risk, I think your better investment would be your booster. If that works on Abbot or on humans to stimulate blood and ectoplasm replacement, it would be acceptable to Abbot and would let us survive."

"Time," said H'lim heavily. He toyed with the specimen kit. "Do you know if you'll be getting a shipment soon?"

"No. If any convoy does get through, though, I'd expect some of my supplies to be on it." Connie is that good.

H'lim seemed skeptical, but he said, "Since the booster was designed for orl, the two projects are related. I'll pursue both goals simultaneously. It's not as difficult as it sounds, you know. I've made orl for use in medical testing. The genetics is flexible and the blood composition can be altered to mimic that of diverse peoples." Staring at the Thermos, he lapsed into the luren tongue.

t.i.tus puzzled over the words "teelee-odd" and "metajee". Those were the only terms he could separate from the ma.s.s of the unfamiliar ones, and he realized that his own lack of a biological and biochemical vocabulary had left H'lim unable to think professionally in English. What other flaws had he left him with."

What other communications problems lurked beneath the facade of normality?

Inea followed H'lim's gaze and rose to fill a gla.s.s with the orl blood, returning with it cradled between her hands. H'lim tracked her movements with a quiet reverence then dragged his attention from the gla.s.s she held and asked t.i.tus, "Did you tell her to do this?"

"No. It's her own idea." He wasn't sure it was even a good idea, but he followed her reasoning and her heart, so he said nothing as H'lim savored the act of a sentient orl-a willing human. Ectoplasm carried a different texture when it was a deliberate, wholehearted gift.

He was curious to see how this would strike H'lim. But the luren didn't reach for the proffered gla.s.s. He clasped trembling hands in his lap. "t.i.tus, she wears your Mark."

"Only to keep you or Abbot from taking what you will of her. She's a human being, free to give what she chooses to whom she chooses. You've partaken of her gift before."

"I don't like being discussed in the third person."

H'lim seemed perplexed, so t.i.tus explained, "It's impolite most places to ignore a person's presence."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't intend-Inea, there's no way I could ignore your pervasive presence. I would like very much to accept your gift." He held his hands out just short of the gla.s.s waiting for her to place it in his grasp.