"Have you had enough to eat?"
"Yes, thank you. I think we ought to take the puppies outside, y'know?"
"Very well," said Abel. "Don't be too long, though. You should get to bed early tonight."
"Yes, sir," over his shoulder as he and Uel headed eagerly to play with the puppies.
As the door closed behind them, Rimon said, "I think he's decided to stay."
Abel nodded, smiling contentedly. "Yes. Margid, I think you've acquired another boy to raise."
It was very late by the time Rimon and Kadi had collected the other members of their household, packed up Zeth and the puppy, and gotten home. The pup, now separated from the last of its littermates, cried and cried when they tried to leave it in its basket. In order to ensure tranquillity, Kadi finally let Zeth take the puppy to bed with him. Rimon wondered if the other puppy were providing something warm for Hank to cling to, when he was afraid to let the people around him touch him.
Finally, Rimon and Kadi were alone. Rimon realized that any other month he would have chafed at the events that delayed satisfaction of his need. With Kadi at his side he was barely uncomfortable; nonetheless, it would have been more typical of him to carry Kadi off and leave Anni to put Zeth to bed.
At last he admitted it to himself: he was afraid. Since their last transfer, both he and Kadi had learned that Rimon was not the only one of them capable of killing in transfer. He had shied away from the disconcerting thoughts No, he must face it. Kadi could kill him.
She faced it for me, he thought. Then: She loves me. But the nagging thought intruded. What if she is afraid of hurting me? It doesn't matter what the fear is. If her fear makes me hurt her—
He remembered the fear in Kadi's nager as she faced What she had done to the Freeband Raiders, as she said, "I'm dangerous!" Yes, dangerous was the word—but what could they do? A healing-mode transfer, in which Rimon could control even if Kadi felt fear? That would only put off facing the problem to next month, making it worse. No, they had to get through a normal transfer now, or risk upsetting their relationship—maybe forever.
As Kadi came to him, however, he discovered that there was no fear in her nager. Was she acting again? He zlinned her deeply, finding no trace of anxiety. What had happened?
"Rimon, you're disturbed. I don't blame you for being afraid I might hurt you, but I won't," said Kadi softly, her nager at an emotional level that kept real fright at bay. "I think I know what Simes must face when they can't keep from killing."
He reached out to put his arms around her, remembering all the time he had fought the kill reflexes—and lost.
"Not yet," she said, eluding his grasp smoothly. "It still gives me chills to remember it—that creature's touch. But I've made myself remember what I felt when it happened. I can almost convince myself that I felt my own nager, Rimon. I sometimes have to look at my arms to see I'm not turning Sime. Don't laugh at me—"
"I don't think I could, right now," answered Rimon, aware of the acute buildup of need as he tried to focus on her words.
"I have to say this. I know I won't hurt you because you don't feel to me like that Raider did. You don't trigger any reflex in me except love and pleasure. And if I ever did have to shen you, it wouldn't be like that."
Some flash of scientific curiosity broke through the pall of need, and Rimon had to ask, "Like what, particularly?"
She glanced up at him, gauging his humor. "It—felt a little like when Zeth was born and you had to get selyn to flow backwards through my system, to him. That's what I think I felt. And this unbearable—itch—I just couldn't stand it. You've never done anything like that to me, Rimon—and you never will. So you'll never make me shen you out like that."
But Rimon was momentarily lost in thought. Had Kadi made the Raider's system work backwards? Was that what had killed him? He didn't remember much of the incident except his terror and the paralyzing nageric clap that had ended it.
"Now, Rimon," said Kadi, quietly inserting herself into his grasp, fingers working their way tenderly up his tentacle sheaths until her palms closed gently around his arms. "Take your transfer; don't be afraid of me—not ever."
He whispered, "You control."
"Oh no, you've got to face it, or everything we've built will come crumbling down. You do it to me, and see how much I—still—enjoy—it."
Her nager had warmed about him, bringing need singing through his whole body. He wondered vaguely how he could do anything to her when she could turn him on and off like that. But at the same time, he found himself enjoying need itself, too caught up to appreciate the contradiction. Nature took charge, his awareness soaring into hyperconsciousness, enveloped by the purity of Kadi's distinctive nager, as her selyn became his own.
The drought persisted. Both Rimon's trin and the flax grown at Fort Freedom as a cash crop were nearly a total loss. The problem of taxes multiplied—even with their parents paying the head tax on the three young people in Rimon's household, he was hard put to pay just for Kadi. Next year's property tax loomed as a distant threat, although they talked with Jord again about moving out to their property to reduce their taxes. But Jord didn't want to move out of Fort Freedom, and he was becoming even edgier than when he had approached the crisis before. He was fighting with Willa again, and she didn't help by reminding him of what had happened the last time he had left her side when he was in need.
Early in the fall, Rimon and Abel were discussing financial plans with Del Erick, the only one of them who had come through with less than a devastating loss. Del said ruefully, "If you and I had taken adjoining land, Rimon, Carlana and I could move just across the property line and increase your ratio of Simes to Gens."
Abel shook his head. "I don't understand all the legalities, but we must do something to have Rimon's property reclassified."
"Wait a minute!" said Del. "Rimon, your father used to say it was worth the taxes on the Genfarm for the protection that part of the Territory got from the government."
"But the government gives us no protection," said Abel.
"Since our area now has a Genfarm, we just might be able to raise our own militia, or at least mostly our own people, paid for by the government. I, for one, would be willing to pay part of Rimon's tax bill if it means I won't have to put out a fortune to keep my fences from being stolen, and carried away on my own horses!"
"Pay somebody else's taxes—that sounds faintly illegal," said Abel dubiously. "After all, Rimon isn't really running a Genfarm, and to dupe the government into thinking he is…"
Rimon wondered what kind of government Abel had grown up with. What was the government but a settled-in band of Raiders? "Well, Abel, I didn't call it a Genfarm, the tax office did; so by their own laws, they have to protect me."
"Besides," said Del, "if we have a Genfarm and get a local patrol, we can kick some of the worst of the rabble out of town—so they won't be raiding from here and bringing retaliations. Fort Freedom and the permanent residents of town make a pretty fair population. Rimon's taxes plus mine will show an influx from this end of the Territory–"
"Del, what are you suggesting?" asked Abel. "We can form a county!" said Rimon. "Fort Freedom and our two places have enough people to outvote the town—and then we can form a local government and make our own laws!"
"Abel," said Del, "if we make the laws, we can declare Gens to be people. Rimon's marriage would be recognized, and Jord's—it will take years—but isn't it worth the effort?" Abel looked at the two young men and smiled. "We had to work hard to get the Territory government to accept Fort Freedom. I'm willing to work just as hard to carve out a part of the Territory where we can build our new life."