Curious, she let him steer her to his own cabin. When they were alone in the large living area, he motioned her to a seat. "Let me talk to this Oliat trainee, and then I'll do what I can to explain. Don't leave yet. Please."
He went into the tiled room, leaving the hatch slightly ajar. Under the sound of rushing water, she heard a swift conversation in modern Dushauni. What she caught of it sounded like a job interview crossed with a character probe. She listened, trying not to think that he might want nothing to do with her after what she'd said to Grisnilter. Her mother had always told her that her imagination and her temper would be the end of her.
Through the fretting of her own thoughts, she heard Frey, the young Oliat trainee, answer a question, "Yes, I've heard all your reputation. Is it true?"
"Yes," answered Jindigar.
"You're one of the most experienced Oliat officers still working. You could not have survived so long, or still be welcomed by Thellarue, if you hadn't learned to respect the power of Oliat—in all of its manifestations."
The word the youngster used for power had a half dozen other meanings Krinata had never quite grasped. She'd once thought "magic" might be one possible translation, but no glossary listed it. She'd never considered that an Oliat had power that had to be respected, the way one respected the power of a weapon. Yes, that was the connotation: the Oliat was a weapon to be respected. I wonder what Rantan would make of that idea?
When Jindigar returned, dressed in a crisp white ship's uniform, he shoved a low cushion up beside her couch and sat cross-legged in his whule-playing position. "I apologize. I should not have been so abrupt with you. Forgive?"
He was so contrite, she said, "I have to apologize for what I said to Grisnilter."
"What exactly did you say?" He seemed wary.
She told him, verbatim. His face was a study in flavors of amazement. "Krinata, why?"
"I lost my temper. And I'm going to tell him so."
"Not soon, I'm afraid. Arlai just told me he's had another episode. He's not well, Krinata."
Arlai projected his simulacrum and apologized for interrupting. "I have those test results now, Jindigar. It's definite. He won't renew again, but he may have twenty or thirty years left. I'm sorry."
Jindigar put his face in his hands and dismissed Arlai.
"Oh, Jindigar, I'm sorry. I didn't know." An idea blossomed, and before she could think, she blurted, "He isn't your father, is he?"
He looked up startled. "No. Of course not. My father was designated King, remember? And he's much younger than Grisnilter." He sighed.
"If he's ill, why doesn't he go home with the others? Perhaps there, they could find a way to trigger Renewal."
"Krinata, that ship carries dozens of Renewals, or those close enough to be affected by those in Renewal. Grisnilter would be every bit as difficult for them to deal with as you would. And there's no point. There's no cure for old age."
Now she put her head in her hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize he was so ill. Jindigar, when I saw him heading for you, I thought he was going to start in on you right there in public. If he'd made you fumble that connection and accidentally kill Thirlein..."
He plucked at his hands where traces of the adhesive from the costume still showed. "He probably was planning to start on me again." He gazed at her, measuringly. "There was a woman, an old friend, near Renewal. She wanted me to go home with her. It hurt to say no, but I had to. Then I found out Grisnilter had put her up to it because she, like him, believes my association with so many Ephemerals is a sign of deep unbalance. Grisnilter saw me refuse Thellarue's offer and I'm sure he figured I was ready to leave Oliat behind at last. He expected me to take her home and train as an Historian, show everyone I've finally come to my senses. But he's a colleague of my mother, was her mate once, and so I have to be polite while he tries to do his duty to my family."
She was beginning to see dimensions of their situation she hadn't considered. With a trace of resentment, she said, "If you'd told me that to begin with, I wouldn't have —"
He made an exasperated gesture. "Krinata, if I told you a tenth of what's involved, it would take longer than you have to live. All of this happened while you were voting!"
She'd already lost her temper once today, and she wasn't going to again. But she had one more question. Jindigar had been increasingly emotionally unstable lately. The stress of their escapades plus Grisnilter could have caused it. But it could be something else. Bluntly, and without preamble, she asked, "When will you go into Renewal?"
His wideset indigo eyes flicked aside. "I don't know. It's been eleven hundred and fourteen years since my last Renewal. That's long, but not absurdly so at my age. If we can get that ship on its way, and I have time to calm down and get over all that's happened, then it could be another fifty to a hundred years." Wistfully, he added, "Or I could have gone with them and let it happen now."
"What you're saying is that you're planning to go through Renewal away from Dushaun."
He picked at the adhesive on his hands. "As it is, I've no choice. But, given our current situation, I probably won't survive a hundred years and have to face it."
"Is that why you're willing to take suicidal chances?" She thought of his original plan for dealing with the seeker craft, and Arlai's reaction. Surely the Sentient understood Jindigar's position better than Krinata did.
His hands stilled as his eyes bored into hers. "Do you really think I'm taking suicidal chances?"
She felt a terrible weight of responsibility fall upon her. She reviewed everything she'd seen him do.
"Because if you do, Krinata, then I really must go home with them, despite everything."
She could see that he did not want to go home, but was suddenly afraid his reluctance was unsane. Dushau, she reminded herself, couldn't survive eroded sanity. "Isn't that the sort of question you should ask a fellow Dushau?"
He wilted, as if facing a doom. "You may be right."
She was suddenly overcome with compassion. "No, I don't think you're really trying to kill yourself to avoid facing something unpleasant. I really believe your obligations are your true motives. In an Ephemeral, it would be considered perfectly sane to be totally dedicated to saving other people's lives, even at risk of your own. And I've never read that cowardice was a Dushau trait."
His silence was broken by a vibrating thump. Jindigar eyed the direction of the Dushau ship. "They're away. Arlai, did they take Thirlein?"
"Yes. When she got her bearings, she was delighted. She's looking forward to going home." There was a wistfulness in his voice.
"Are Frey and the other two new passengers aboard yet?"
"Yes. Everyone is set. Inrinan asks permission to detime, and Terab says, 'Good luck, and I'll see you soon.'"
"If it's safe, give Inrinan permission, and tell them I hope they find a good planet." He rose, as did Krinata.
"Thellarue says, 'Hurry home.' They've detimed."
Jindigar instructed, "Tell Terab to wait. Krinata, will you stay with me? I'm not asking you to endanger yourself—"
She felt the pressure of final decision once more, though her mind was made up to stay if he'd let her. But in the next moment, it all became academic.
Arlai interrupted Jindigar to announce, "I've lost touch with Terab. She has de—"
A Shockwave rippled through Truth. Krinata fell into Jindigar, knocking him to the deck and sprawling on top of him