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  “We have many feline characteristics, none of which we ever share with outworlders.”

  She backed up a step. It wasn’t his manner so much as his posture that suddenly started to set off alarms in her brain. He moved like a stalking cat, silently, with exquisite grace, with a singularity of purpose that was chilling.

  “To answer your first question, we do not sleep at night, as humans do. We nap at odd times during the day. At night,” he added in a soft, deep tone, “we hunt.”

  “Hunt, sir?” She backed up another step.

  He was amusing himself. His eyes were twinkling. “To answer the second question, we can control the output of your computers and the information disseminated through your military medical corps. We are not what we seem. Nor, as you guessed, do I require the microcyborgs to augment my natural strength.”

  She backed up one more step.

  “As to the last question,” he said, bending down. “Yes, we do purr. When we mate.”

  It had just occurred to her that they were alone and she remembered, almost too late, the effect he had on her. He was attractive to her even when she was afraid of him. Her body was reacting now, pouring out pheromones, saturating his senses. And she had no genetic modifications. Not yet. If she provoked him, here, where they were alone, she would die.

  “In an instant,” he gritted, and a low, soft growl issued from his throat.

  “Oops,” she murmured. She was measuring the distance from the balcony to a locked door and wondering if she could outsprint him when a voice broke the silence.

  “This is very unwise. Very, very unwise,” Caneese said, clicking her tongue in a most human manner as she joined them on the balcony. The commander stopped, dead, and turned to face her, straightening slowly.

  “You know, I was just thinking the very same thing,” Madeline replied quickly. She eyed Dtimun, who looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I don’t really think I could outrun him.”

  Dtimun took longer to react as he fought down his need. He let out a long breath and glanced at Madeline. “I must agree,” he told her. He smiled at Caneese. “You arrived at an opportune moment.”

  “As I see.” She moved between them. “It is not kind of you to frighten Madeline,” she chided.

  He recovered his equilibrium and laughed softly. “She has the heart of a galot,” he said unexpectedly, referring to a species of giant cat. “I would never expect her to be afraid of anything. Not even me.”

  Madeline grinned. “At least I haven’t thrown things at you,” she added, alluding to their earlier conversation about Rhemun and Edris Mallory.

  “A lie,” he said with a flash of green eyes. “Once, when I refused to let you treat a wound on my leg, you threw a piece of medical equipment at me.”

  “It wasn’t anything heavy or dangerous,” she pointed out.

  “Should I ask why the two of you were out here?” Caneese asked.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Madeline confessed.

  “I heard her outside,” Dtimun added. “There are dangers at night, even here in the fortress.”

  “Yes,” Caneese said, but more gently. She smiled at Madeline. “You should never come out here alone at night. Or with him,” she added mischievously, indicating Dtimun with a faint nod of her head. “He is more dangerous than anything you might discover in the dark.”

  “I was just noticing that,” Madeline murmured drily.

  He gave her a long, searching look.

  “The ceremony must be soon,” he said to Caneese in Cehn-Tahr, in the familiar tense. “And Ruszel’s transformation must be even sooner.”

  “Komak has everything ready to proceed early tomorrow,” Caneese replied. “I will conduct the bonding ceremony myself, but it must be witnessed.”

  “It is only a temporary measure,” he began uncomfortably.

  “It must be witnessed,” she replied firmly. “I cannot explain. You must trust me.”

  He let out a rough sigh. “You risk much.”

  “You risk more, by keeping secrets from her.” She moved closer to him, aware of Madeline’s curiosity. She dared not satisfy it. “Dtimun, you must tell her the truth.”

  “No.”

  “She will see it for herself, when you mate,” she persisted.

  “We will conduct the pairing in total darkness,” he said, evading her eyes. “I will make sure that she does not see me. She will not know.”

  Caneese frowned worriedly. “Our laws require that we use no artificial means of camouflage during a bonding ceremony. How will I explain that to the witnesses?”

  He cocked his head. “You will find a way around that,” he said with affection.

  She shook her own head. “You presume too much.”

  “I do not.” He bent and laid his forehead against hers. “It will change everything, once she knows,” he said bitterly. “I do not wish it to happen. Not yet.” He lifted his head. His eyes were sad and reflective. “She plans to have a memory wipe. The child will be regressed. She will go back to the Holconcom and remember nothing. But I will have the memory of it. Of her. I do not wish to remember her distaste.”

  “You underestimate the intensity of her feelings for you,” Caneese said simply.

  He laughed shortly. “Do you not remember the one time we revealed ourselves to a party of humans, during the Great Galaxy War?”

  She grimaced. “They were primitive humans...”

  He turned away. “I will not risk it.”

  She didn’t press him. It would have done no good. He was too much like her. Neither of them would retreat from a decision, once made.

  “The bonding will take place tomorrow, after Komak’s genetic manipulation, Madeline,” Caneese told her gently. “Are you certain that you are rested and healed enough for the procedure?”

  “I’m just sore and a little weak,” Madeline assured her with a smile. “We don’t have a lot of time, if we’re to save Chacon and the princess.” Both the enemy commander and the Cehn-Tahr princess had recently gone missing.

  “I still do not like it,” the older woman said solemnly. “It is a very great risk.”

  Madeline moved closer to her. “I’ll be the commander’s eyes and ears,” she said softly. “He’ll be all right.”

  Dtimun’s eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline. “You presume to protect me from harm?” he asked in a hopelessly arrogant fashion.

  Madeline grinned at him. “I always try my best to protect you, sir. I’ll remind you that when we were in Ahkmau...”

  “Not again,” he groaned.

  Caneese laughed out loud. “What is this, about Akhmau?”

  “I operated on him under battlefield conditions when he went prematurely into the dylete,” she recalled smugly, reminding Caneese of an earlier conversation. She frowned. “Well, in one stage of it, anyway. Can you still call it the time of half-life when it’s only one of many?” she added thoughtfully.

  “Call it what you like,” Dtimun said gruffly. “I am going to bed.”

  “You sleep well, sir,” Madeline said. “If I hear anything threatening outside, I’ll attack it for you.”

  He muttered something under his breath, turned on his heel, and stalked back across the balcony.

  Caneese was grinning, overcome with mirth. “I have never seen him in such a state,” she chuckled.

  “I get on his nerves,” Madeline said, grinning back. “It keeps him on his toes. He does tend to brood.”

  “Yes. Even as a child, he was like that.”

  “You’ve known him that long?” Madeline asked.

  Caneese’s eyes softened. “I have.” She studied the younger woman quietly. “You are uneasy about the bonding. You have never known the touch of a hunting male.”

  Madeline’s heart jumped. She
averted her eyes. Uneasy was an understatement.

  “You must not dwell on it,” Caneese said. “But you must use your strongest sedative. You are frightened of him in the darkness already. This will augment it.”

  Madeline flushed. “His eyes glow...”

  “We have feline eyes,” Caneese reminded her.

  She frowned. “He said something curious. He said that you keep more secrets than we know, and that you aren’t what you seem.”

  “There have been incidents, in the past,” Caneese said carefully. “When humans...”

  “Stop there,” came a commanding voice into her mind. “Say no more to her.”

  Caneese grimaced. “Well, it is nothing that concerns you,” she amended. She smiled. “You should try to rest. Tomorrow will be stressful.”

  Madeline hesitated. “What is it like?” she asked, the words almost torn out of her.

  Caneese only smiled. “You will understand soon.”

  Madeline sighed and turned away. “I suppose so. Good night.”

  “Sleep well.” Caneese bit her lower lip as she watched the fragile human female walk away. Madeline was concerned, but Caneese did not dare satisfy the other woman’s curiosity. She hoped that Madeline could summon enough nerve not to run, as she had tried to, just before her own first mating. It was not a memory she liked to revisit, despite the pleasure of the ones that followed.

  * * *

  KOMAK HAD USED a curious mixture, which contained bone marrow cells and Cehn-Tahr DNA, as well as an accelerant whose properties he would not disclose, to facilitate Madeline’s transformation into a human with the strength of the aliens with whom she had served for almost three years. After he finished with the initial procedure, he injected another mixture into the artery at Madeline’s neck with a laserdot. “You must not be nervous,” he said gently. “I assure you, I know what I am doing.”

  She managed a smile for him. “For a time-traveling magician, you’re not bad, Komak.”

  He chuckled. “So I am told.”

  She studied his face. “You know, you do use human facial expressions more than any Cehn-Tahr I’ve ever known.”

  “You are remembering the traces of human DNA in my blood, when you typed and cross-matched it to transfuse the commander at Ahkmau.”

  “Yes.”

  He removed the laserdot placer. “We all keep secrets. That one must remain my own.”

  “The commander and I think you’re related to someone who lived in this time period.”

  “You are both astute. I am.”

  “Can you tell us who?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “That is one subject we must not visit.”

  “Do you have human DNA, or was it just a glitch in my equipment, as I thought at the time?”

  He put down the laserdot and looked her in the eye. “Answer your own question. Do I resemble a human?”

  She sighed. “No, Komak,” she had to admit, smiling. “You look like the rest of your species.”

  He was amused. She did not know the true tech he employed, although he had let her think she did, and he had no intention of telling her. To do so might reveal too soon the secret Dtimun kept from her. He smiled back. “We are all one color, one race. Unlike you humans, who come in all colors and races.”

  “There’s a legend that my people were once all tea-colored,” she recalled.

  He pursed his lips. He didn’t speak.

  She frowned. “You know something. Tell me.”

  “Your race was once tea-colored, as you say, from millennia of racial mixing. Humans rose to become a great space-faring civilization. Then a comet collided with your planet of origin and reduced your species to a gene pool of less than ten thousand,” he said simply. “The reduction mutated you, so that the old genetic material was reborn and you split, once more, into separate races and coloring. Your leaders discovered relics of this civilization, but they hid it quite carefully.”

  “Hid it? Why?” she asked, exasperated.

  “Would you reveal to an optimistic, ambitious population with growing tech ability that another civilization had risen to such heights, only to be destroyed in a natural catastrophe?”

  She thought about that. “I don’t know.”

  “It would diminish your accomplishments, dull your ambition,” he suggested. “It would limit the achievements.”

  “I suppose it might. How did you come to be a time traveler?” she asked. “And who discovered its potential?”

  He grinned. “It was me. Building on tech developed by one of my...antecedents,” he said carefully, “I perfected the ability to jump through dimensions, into different time lines.”

  “But how?”

  “I cannot say. But the Nagaashe are the key,” he added. He sobered. “You made the discovery possible, by convincing them to trade with us. You do not yet realize the scope of that accomplishment. It will lead to untold discoveries.”

  “I just crashed on their planet,” she said softly.

  He shook his head with awe. “I read about this period of history. But the records were quite scant, and frankly the first-person accounts of it were grossly understated. All of you were too modest about your actions. And nowhere was it recorded that Chacon himself assisted in your rescue. Or your...old fellow,” he added. “There were whispers, of course, but they were dismissed as myths.”

  She smiled. “I make odd friendships.”

  He chuckled. “Indeed you do. I am most proud to be included in them,” he said gently. “You and the commander are more than I ever realized from my research. The two of you have been a constant delight.” He drew in a long breath as he looked at her. “Serving with you is my greatest honor and privilege.” His eyes saddened. “I will miss you both.”

  “Miss us?”

  He nodded. “I must leave. Today.”

  “Today? Surely not before the bonding ceremony!”

  “Yes.” His face tautened. “I must not interfere in any way with this timeline.” His eyes were soft with affection. “It is precious. More precious than I can tell you.” His face tautened. “There is another matter,” he said quickly. “You must not return to the Amazon Division, for any reason. Do you understand? It is important.”

  Her heart jumped. “Komak, this is only for a mission,” she said. “I can’t tell you what it is, except to say that many lives may depend on its success. But afterward, whatever happens, I will go back to duty.” She averted her eyes. “I’ve already spoken to Strick Hahnson about doing a short-term memory wipe on me. I won’t remember anything...”

  “Memories are precious, Madelineruszel,” he said quietly. “Your feelings for the commander are quite intense. Do you really want to forget them?”

  Her sad eyes met his. “He’s an aristocrat. I’m just a grunt of a soldier, and I’m human. He must...bond with a woman of his own species, to produce an heir who can inherit his estates.” She lowered her gaze to the table. “He feels nothing for me. I just get on his nerves. And right now, he’s locked into a behavioral cycle that could cost him his life or his career, all because of my intense feelings. I have to do whatever I can to save him. Whatever the cost. I can’t go back to the Holconcom,” she added quickly, conspiratorially. “Don’t you see? Even with a memory wipe, I might feel the same for him, all over again, and trigger the same behavior. I won’t put him at risk a second time.”

  Komak’s face was grim. “You care so much?”

  “I care so much,” she said huskily.

  “But, if there is a child, as I feel certain there will be...” he began hesitantly.

  “The child can be regressed. It’s a gentle process. He’ll be absorbed back into the tissues of my body.” She didn’t look at him. “Nobody must know. It would hurt his career, if it became known that he’d fathered
a child onto a human female. It would...disgrace him.”

  “Surely he did not say that to you!”

  She didn’t speak. He hadn’t. Not in so many words. But she knew he must have thought about their differences in status. Her jaw tautened. “I’ll do whatever I need to do, for this mission to succeed. Then he’ll go back to his command, I’ll go back to mine. We’ll be quits.”

  Komak looked devastated. This was not the history he had read. Surely the timeline was not so corrupted already?

  “We don’t always get what we want in life,” she said thoughtfully. “I would have liked to keep the memory.” She drew herself up to her full height. “But I’ll do what’s best.”

  He stood up, too. He moved close to her, his eyes wide and quiet and tender. “I will never forget these years with you,” he said softly. “It has been an honor, to know you as a comrade.”

  She smiled sadly. “It has been for me, too, Komak.” She shifted. “I feel...odd.”

  “Odd, how?” he asked, but he was smiling.

  She reached impulsively for a metal sphere on the desk and closed her fingers around it. No human could have made a mark on it. She crushed it in her hand. She gasped.

  He chuckled. “So. We need not ask if the experiment was a success.”

  She looked at the misshapen lump on her palm and laughed with delight. “No. We need not ask!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  MADELINE WAS A combat surgeon. She certainly knew about the reproductive process, in animals and humans, even in Rojoks. But trying to get any information about Cehn-Tahr matings was like pulling stones out of a vacuum.

  She thought Caneese was the obvious person to ask. Although Caneese was very polite, she was almost mute on the subject.

  “You will cope,” she told Madeline gently. “The thing to remember is that you must...yield, and let nature take its course,” she said finally, after searching for just the correct word.

  “Yield.”

  “Exactly! I am so glad that we had this talk. You will feel better about the encounter, now, yes?” And she walked away, smiling.

  Madeline ground her teeth into her lower lip. “Smoke and mirrors,” she said to herself, nodding.