A Wreave in the Bureau had tried to explain this:
"Take, for example, the situation where a Wreave is murdered or, even worse, deprived of essential vanity. The guilty party would be answerable personally to millions upon millions of us. Wherever the triad exchange has linked us, we are required to respond intimately to the insult. The closest thing you have to this, as I understand it, is familial responsibility. We have this familial responsibility for vendetta where such affronts occur. You have no idea how difficult it was to release those of us in BuSab from this . . . this bondage, this network of responsibility."
The Gowachin would know this about the Wreaves, McKie thought. Had this characteristic attracted the Gowachin or had they chosen in spite of it, making their decision because of some other Wreave aspect? Would a Wreave Legum continue to share that network of familial responsibility? How could that be? Wreave society could only offend a basic sensibility of the Gowachin. The Frog God's people were even more . . . more exclusive and individual than Humans. To the Gowachin, family remained a private thing, walled off from strangers in an isolation which was abandoned only when you entered your chosen phylum.
As he waited beside the white rock on Dosadi, McKie reflected on these matters, biding his time, listening. The alien heat, the smells and unfamiliar noises, disturbed him. He'd been told to listen for the sound of an internal combustion engine. Internal combustion! But the Dosadi used such devices outside the city because they were more powerful (although much larger) than the beamed impulse drivers which they used within Chu's walls.
"The fuel is alcohol. Most of the raw materials come from the Rim. It doesn't matter how much poison there is in such fuel. They ferment bushes, trees, ferns . . . anything the Rim supplies."
A sleepy quiet surrounded McKie now. For a long time he'd been girding himself to risk the thing he knew he would have to do once he were alone on Dosadi. He might never again be this alone here, probably not once he was into Chu's Warrens. He knew the futility of trying to contact his Taprisiot monitor. Aritch, telling him the Gowachin knew BuSab had bought "Taprisiot insurance," had said:
"Not even a Taprisiot call can penetrate the God Wall."
In the event of Dosadi's destruction, the Caleban contract ended. McKie's Taprisiot might even have an instant to complete the death record of McKie's memories. Might. That was academic to McKie in his present circumstances. The Calebans owed him a debt. The Whipping Star threat had been as deadly to Calebans as to any other species which had ever used jumpdoors. The threat had been real and specific. Users of jumpdoors and the Caleban who controlled those jumpdoors had been doomed. "Fannie Mae" had expressed the debt to McKie in her own peculiar way:
"The owing of me to thee connects to no ending."
Aritch could have alerted his Dosadi guardian against any attempt by McKie to contact another Caleban. McKie doubted this. Aritch had specified a ban against Taprisiot calls. But all Calebans shared an awareness at some level. If Aritch and company had been lulled into a mistaken assumption about the security of their barrier around Dosadi . . .
Carefully, McKie cleared his mind of any thoughts about Taprisiots. This wasn't easy. It required a Sufi concentration upon a particular void. There could be no accidental thrust of his mind at the Taprisiot waiting in the safety of Central Central with its endless patience. Everything must be blanked from awareness except a clear projection toward Fannie Mae.
McKie visualized her: the star Thyone. He recalled their long hours of mental give and take. He projected the warmth of emotional attachment, recalling her recent demonstration of "nodal involvement."
Presently, he closed his eyes, amplified that internal image which now suffused his mind. He felt his muscles relax. The warm rock against his back, the sand beneath him, faded from awareness. Only the glowing presence of a Caleban remained in his mind.
"Who calls?"
The words touched his auditory centers, but not his ears.
"It's McKie, friend of Fannie Mae. Are you the Caleban of the God Wall?"
"I am the God Wall. Have you come to worship?"
McKie felt his thoughts stumble. Worship? The projection from this Caleban was echoing and portentous, not at all like the probing curiosity he always sensed in Fannie Mae. He fought to regain that first clear image. The inner glow of a Caleban contact returned. He supposed there might be something worshipful in this experience. You were never absolutely certain of a Caleban's meaning.
"It's McKie, friend of Fannie Mae," he repeated.
The glow within McKie dimmed, then: "But you occupy a point upon Dosadi's wave."
That was a familiar kind of communication, one to which McKie could apply previous experience in the hope of a small understanding, an approximation.
"Does the God Wall permit me to contact Fannie Mae?"
Words echoed in his head:
"One Caleban, all Caleban."
"I wish converse with Fannie Mae."
"You are not satisfied with your present body?"
McKie felt his body then, the trembling flesh, the zombie-like trance state which went with Caleban or Taprisiot contact. The question had no meaning to him, but the body contact was real and it threatened to break off communication. Slowly, McKie fought back to that tenuous mind-presence.
"I am Jorj X. McKie. Calebans are in my debt."
"All Calebans know this debt."
"Then honor your debt."
He waited, trying not to grow tense.
The glow within his head was replaced by a new presence. It insinuated itself into McKie's awareness with penetrating familiarity - not full mental contact, but rather a playing upon those regions of his brain where sight and sound were interpreted. McKie recognized this new presence.
"Fannie Mae!"
"What does McKie require?"
For a Caleban, it was quite a direct communication. McKie, noting this, responded more directly:
"I require your help."
"Explain."
"I may be killed here . . . ahh, have an end to my node here on Dosadi."
"Dosadi's wave," she corrected him.
"Yes. And if that happens, if I die here, I have friends on Central Central . . . on Central Central's wave . . . friends there who must learn everything that's in my mind when I die."
"Only Taprisiot can do this. Dosadi contract forbids Taprisiots."
"But if Dosadi is destroyed . . .
"Contract promise passes no ending, McKie."
"You cannot help me?"
"You wish advice from Fannie Mae?"
"Yes."
"Fannie Mae able to maintain contact with McKie while he occupies Dosadi's wave."
Constant trance? McKie was shocked.
She caught this.
"No trance. McKie's nexus known to Fannie Mae."
"I think not. I can't have any distractions here."