Thrr-gilag frowned. That had been a decidedly odd comment. "I suppose we could use her."

"I'm sure you can," Klnn-vavgi said, wandering over to the table where Melinda Cavanagh had laid out her tools and medicines. "Especially with her specialized healer equipment."

Thrr-gilag felt his tongue pressing painfully at the inside of his mouth. Not half a stride away from Klnn-vavgi was the metal box where Prr't-zevisti's fsss cutting was hidden.... "You're right, of course," he said.

"Good," Klnn-vavgi said, stepping around behind the table and turning to face Thrr-gilag again. "It should be a lot calmer over there, actually. Mnov-korthe and his brother are going to be turning this encampment inside out until they find what they're looking for." He paused, resting one hand on top of the metal box, and locked eyes with Thrr-gilag. "I gather that it has something to do with that missing Elder, Prr't-zevisti."

"Ah," Thrr-gilag murmured.

"They've already spoken at length to Commander Thrr-mezaz," Klnn-vavgi continued, casually rubbing the smooth metal surface with his fingertips. "And I know they're eager to talk to you, too. But I've convinced them that your Human-Conqueror studies must take priority. I hope you and Klnn-dawan-a can obtain some useful results."

"We'll try," Thrr-gilag said, his earlier resentment melting away. Despite their efforts to keep Klnn-vavgi out of this mess, the second commander had clearly figured out enough of it on his own. But instead of turning them in to the Dhaa'rr agents, he had connived to buy them some time.

And in the process had put his own neck on the line along with theirs. "We'll try our best."

"Good," Klnn-vavgi said, his eyes flicking upward to the Elders hovering nearly invisibly overhead. "I'll detail some warriors to carry the prisoner and escort you to the examination room. Good luck."

He left the room. "Is there trouble?" Melinda Cavanagh asked.

"No," Thrr-gilag told her, conscious of the fact that all the Elders up there knew some of the Human language. "We need to move Pheylan Cavanagh to another place for study. A more private place, I'm told. You'll be coming with me."

"And Sergeant Janovetz?"

"He'll stay here."

"I see," Melinda Cavanagh said. "How private will this place be?"

"Reasonably," Thrr-gilag said, hoping she would read between the lines. "There will be warriors outside, of course."

"Yes," she said, stepping over to the table and selecting two of the tubes of medicine. Crossing to Sergeant Janovetz, she handed him the tubes. "Before I forget again, Sergeant, I brought you some of your special rash ointment."

"Thanks, Doc," he said, glancing at them briefly and dropping them casually beside him on his cot. "Use as needed, right?"

Melinda glanced at her watch. "You should probably wait a couple of hours," she said. "And just use a small amount. I know that kind of rash can get distracting, but the prescribed treatment doesn't involve extermination."

The tufts of hair over his eyes lifted a little higher. "None?"

"None," Melinda Cavanagh said firmly. "There are new indications that the rash might actually be benign."

"Benign?" Sergeant Janovetz said, his voice sounding odd. "You're joking."

"Not at all," she assured him.

His shoulders went up and down again. "Well, you're the doctor. Prescription understood."

She nodded and turned to Thrr-gilag. "All right," she said, picking up the box with Prr't-zevisti's cutting in it. "Let's go."

"There," Commander Oclan-barjak said, gesturing out the transport's canopy. "Straight ahead, on top of that hill."

A beat later the dark figure made his location obvious, flashing a light briefly toward the incoming transports. "Is he alone?" the Prime asked.

"Appears to be," Oclan-barjak grunted. "We'll find out soon enough. All right, pilot—signal the others, then put us down."

They were on the ground four hunbeats later. Two hunbeats after that the warriors had been deployed and the shadowy figure brought into the subdued semicircle of light spilling out from the transport's open hatchway. Just inside the semicircle one of the warriors handed him a kavra fruit, waiting until he'd sliced it before escorting him the rest of the way. As he approached the light, the Prime could now see that there was an Elder accompanying him.

"I'm the Overclan Prime," the Prime identified himself. "You're Protector Thrr-tulkoj?"

"Yes," the Zhirrzh said, gesturing to the Elder hovering beside him. "This is Thrr't-rokik; Kee'rr. He's the one who brought me the message from Searcher Nzz-oonaz on Mra."

"Thrr't-rokik," the Prime nodded greeting. It was, he suspected, going to be very interesting to hear how this pathway had come to be. But first things first. "Has Nzz-oonaz been informed I'm here?"

"Yes," Thrr't-rokik said. "He said to give you the recognition code 'Pllaa'rr beside the Softly Raging Sea.' "

Another of their private recognition codes. "Very well. Message: this is the Overclan Prime. What is this matter you wish to discuss?"

Thrr't-rokik vanished. The Prime waited, glancing around the hilltops and the warriors in ready position. If it was a trap, the attackers were taking their time about springing it. Or else had been frightened away by the size of the Overclan warrior contingent.

Thrr't-rokik returned. " 'I have had disturbing news, Overclan Prime, which I felt could not be safely trusted to my usual pathways. Were you aware that normal communications with the Zhirrzh ground forces on Dorcas have been suspended?' "

The Prime felt his lowlight pupils contract. "No," he said. "For what reason?"

" 'I've been unable to find out,' " the answer came. " 'But I've heard rumors that indicate the Dhaa'rr clan may be behind it.' "

The Prime grimaced. Yes, he could smell Speaker Cvv-panav's saliva all over this one. Whatever was happening on Dorcas was clearly the most recent thrust in his campaign to catch Thrr-gilag with his illegal cutting and then to link it back to the Prime.

Only this time the Speaker had gone directly to the source. If Thrr-gilag hadn't managed to get rid of the cutting, they were indeed going to be in trouble. "You said normal communications had been cut off," he said to Thrr't-rokik. "What exactly did you mean by that?"

"An Elder aboard the Closed Mouth tried to open a pathway," Thrr't-rokik said. "He came back and said—"

"He meant for you to take the question to Nzz-oonaz," Oclan-barjak cut him off gruffly. "Not answer it yourself."

"I'm sorry," Thrr't-rokik said, with no apology in face or voice that the Prime could detect. "I was there when it happened. I thought answering it myself would save time."

"I'm sure it would," the Prime said. "But the form must be followed. Take the question to Nzz-oonaz."

"I obey," Thrr't-rokik said, and vanished.

"Insolent illegit," Oclan-barjak muttered. "Overclan Prime, I have a listing of Overclan-certified Elders in the area. If you'd like, I'll summon one to open a pathway back to Unity City. Then you can dispense with this amateur."

The Prime flicked his tongue in a negative. "Let's see what Nzz-oonaz has to say first."

Thrr't-rokik returned. " 'One of my Elders tried to open a pathway to Thrr-gilag on Dorcas,' " he said. " 'He returned with the information that the only pathways that were being allowed were through Dhaa'rr Elders.' "

"On whose orders?" the Prime asked.

Thrr't-rokik vanished; returned. " 'He had the impression it was the Speaker for Dhaa'rr.' "

Oclan-barjak rumbled something under his breath. "In case any of us hadn't already guessed."

"Still, more overt than his usual style," the Prime said. "He must be very sure of himself. All right, Searcher, I'll deal with it. Was there anything else?"