“Thanks.”
He narrowed his eyes as he studied her. “We will risk much, if we go to Benaski Port.”
“We will risk more if we don’t go,” she replied. “I for one would love to see the war end in my lifetime. Without the Rojok Field Marshal, Chacon, to fight the madness of his tyrannical government, that might not happen.”
“I agree.”
“Do Cehn-Tahr sleep at night, sir?” she asked abruptly.
He laughed. “Why ask such a question?”
“Because I’ve never really seen any of you sleep,” she pointed out. “Even at Ahkmau, the Rojok prison camp, the only reason you slept was because I knocked you out with drugs.” She pursed her lips, frowning. “And those microcyborgs, the ones you said gave you such superior strength…”
“What about them?”
“Why would you need artificial boosters for the strength you already have?”
“You see too much, Ruszel.”
“Or not enough. Depending on your point of view. For instance, the readings I get for your anatomical makeup are quite frequently at conflict with what I learned in medical school.”
“Imagine that,” he mused.
“You have a detached hyoid bone,” she persisted.
He moved a step closer. His eyes that, in the light, could change color to mirror mood, began to take on an odd glitter. “And you wonder if the Cehn-Tahr can purr?”
Her heart jumped. “I…wouldn’t have put it in exactly those words.”
“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 dryly.
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
