Farfetch

And they were suddenly cut off from the hivebound, and deep into Raichmat's Oliat. Jindigar was Outreach, and she was Receptor—full, functioning Oliat. It was as if they were standing with one foot supported by Jindigar's memory and another planted firmly on the deck of the fortress. She compared what she'd tried to do with how a Receptor functioned, seeing how to flip the function over with a topologist's disregard for essential differences.

Suddenly they were back among the hivebound, and she was Receiving the image of the monstrous hive covering fortress and settlement. It wasn't something she was doing, projecting outward. She simply looked and noticed the old moss on the mortar between building blocks, the weather curls in the plume of smoke rising from the chimneys, and the smells of cozy living. She didn't have to imagine it because it was real in its own way. Her Receiving made that level of reality available to everyone.

She became enraptured by the work, reveling in the sensation of being—having been—Officer to Raichmat's. She remembered how they'd discovered each of the species stampeding at them now and how they'd recognized the threat such a bound group would present to any settlement. They hadn't discovered the heralds, hadn't learned how to establish peace with the plain.

At some point the pentad re-joined them, giving them awareness of the movements on the plains, the mood of the stampede, of the pace slackening, the fury dissipating into confusion, the insectoidal programming disintegrating. The resulting chaos was perhaps more dangerous than true animosity. For as the pentad grudgingly began to trust Jindigar and Krinata again, the herds arrived.

Already, though, they saw a hive where they had expected to see a fortress and armored troopers. The leaders of the stampede could not stop with all the tons of hurtling flesh behind them—but they turned away from the "hive" as a river current cuts around a solid boulder.

Jarred out of the rapport, Krinata heard the hatch clang open, troopers' armor clattering into the echoing darkness. The Commander's reedy Cassrian voice called, "You can't stop them now! They're going to—"

The deck shifted hard under them as something hit the fortress, and Krinata tumbled off-balance into Jindigar.

TWELVE

Ad Hoc Oliat

Krinata was on hands and knees when the next impact jarred the unprotected fortress. Then they came thick and fast, the vibration reaching deafening proportions. Around them bulkheads deformed, stretching joints designed to withstand energy-bolt fire in space, the stresses of takeoff and landing, or the recoil of firing weapons—but not without cushioning energy screens.

Soon cracks opened, co

Jindigar was sitting on the floor holding his head, the duad linkage bringing Krinata only a hint of his pain as the fragile boundmind gestalt shattered. The Cassrian Commander, even more dazed, stared at a cascade of sparks dousing a pile of his troopers.

"Commander," called Jindigar over the roar from without and the growing babble of voices within. "Can you deploy your auxiliary ground anchors? The mains aren't holding!"

Brought back to himself, the Commander made it to his feet in a virtuoso demonstration of suit armor handling. Swaying, he answered, "We lost them when the tornadoes demolished the other two fortresses."

Jindigar wiped a smear of blood trickling from his nose and got to his feet, standing knees bent, arms flowing to keep his balance. "Then let's get the rim attitude jets going to keep us away from the cliff."

"Blew the circuits when we landed. My last technician is in sickbay, unconscious. Onboard Sentient has lost too much circuitry to help."

Jindigar swore, then glanced at the pentad. They were climbing to their feet by using the wall and each other, while the Outriders consulted in loud bellows. Jindigar called to them, "I have the fortress blueprints. If the pentad can locate the problem, maybe I can fix it in time."

The Commander began an objection while Darllanyu as Outreach consulted the others. Krinata grabbed at Jindigar's elbow to maintain her balance and captured the Commander's attention. "Jindigar can do it if you can find him the tools."

The Commander hesitated only a moment, then spoke into his communicator. But Jindigar was having less luck. He moved to the pentad, arguing in Dushauni Oliat jargon that Krinata couldn't follow. Then, in exasperation, he paced away from them, hissing something that sounded like, "Clumsy amateurs!" He turned to Krinata, summoning the duad. //Scan with me.//

It didn't come as words but as an urge to seek the integrity of the fortress—to reach for the gestalt that included the inanimate thing. Tantalizing, the perception hovered at the edge of knowledge, giving them only a few cryptic details of close-by functions. Just for a flash she realized what Jindigar had had with Truth and Arlai when he hosted an exploring Oliat aboard.

Jindigar hissed, frustrated, "No good. If a pentad can't make it, no duad could, either."

Cy had now rigged some kind of a line over a track that ran the length of the cargo bay. He handed the end to Jin– digar, who absently accepted it. Keeping his balance by swinging from the line, Jindigar rounded on the pentad while the Outriders tore loose more cables and rigged more lines, the troopers picking up the idea and doing likewise.

"We're going over that cliff," said Jindigar grimly.

The Outreach replied dispassionately, "Animals have already plunged over. The people below are evacuating the area. There may be a pile of carcasses to cushion our fall."

Jindigar spat, "The fall will split this fortress open."

The swarm of insectoidals was not far beyond the river now, the lead flyers already flitting across the span of water in huge leaps, smaller mites carried on their backs. Krinata's flesh puckered in revulsion—but she thought the mass of tiny bodies was begi

"What do you propose, Invert!" It wasn't Darllanyu speaking—but the pentad, gripped by fear of what logic suggested.

Krinata staggered toward them and yelled to be heard, "Those poor beasts out there deserve to be saved as much as we do. If this is to be our world, we have to act like it. With just a small amount of power to the shields, maybe we could form a cushioning wall to keep them from going over the cliff!"

Jindigar looked from her to Threntisn, to Darllanyu, decision hardening his features. "Threntisn has earned his proof of the Archive's condition. I'll take your Center, with Krinata as my Outreach. I have the blueprints, you have the perceptions. Your hands can use my skills—we might be able to save a few hundred animals and ourselves—and this fortress for the community."

Jindigar's Oliat. Because he had a bare fifty years until Renewal, this would be one of the shortest-lived Oliats on record. She could be part of that—at least until a Dushau could take her place. Again he was asking her for a commitment without apprising her of the dangers. But this time she didn't mind. It would be worth her life if they could pull it off. Their eyes met as he added, "I renounce Inversion while bound to this Oliat, and so will Krinata."

Five pairs of dilated indigo eyes locked onto her. With the duad wide-open, she knew with Jindigar the factors they weighed with the swiftness only the Oliat linkages could achieve. They had grieved with her and survived it. But an Oliat link was closer. Would the tarnish on her soul rub off onto theirs? But she and Jindigar had turned away from Inverting when the hivebinder had constructed the vision of a hive over them.