"Be careful when you go to see them," Anarres said, emanating anxiety.
"I intend to be," Sirru replied, and kissed her.
She responded with enthusiasm, then drew back. "Sirru— do you know whether you'll be engaging in sexual mode widi the 'thaithoiV
"I don't know. I don't think so." He frowned. "We've com-municated in the usual combinations up until now: I speak with words and modes; they're just patronizing. I suppose if they have anything very complex or lengthy to discuss, they'll convey it sexually. Hope not, though." Sirru sighed. It was not an enticing thought. He had secrets that could prove danger-ous if he let them slip at the wrong moment.
"I only asked because, if so, you and I don't have to sleep to-gether tonight. If you'd like to conserve your energy, that is," Anarres murmured.
"Thank you for being so thoughtful, but that really won't be necessary," Sirru said hastily, and kissed her again.
AT dawn, the wind veered round to the north, bringing the scent of snow and rock resin from the distant mountains. The singing vine, evidently reminded of winter, shivered with a disconsolate chord. At the sudden song, Sirru woke, blinked golden eyes, and yawned with a snap of teeth. Anarres lay be-side him, coiled in the hollow of his arms, and Sirru watched her for a moment as she slept, moved by her fragility. In sleep, Anarres' mouth was slightly open, and he could see the tip of her jade tongue, just touching her lower lip.
Sirru smiled, remembering the night, and shifted against her. He held her close for a moment, twisting so that his throat was pressed against her own, and the soft skin at the inside of his elbow rested against the lower part of her breast ridges. He sent her a message: a complex combination of desire, grati-tude, and anticipation.
He pressed against her for a moment longer, wishing he could stay, then rose fluidly from the sleeping mat and slid into his robe. Rainwater had collected in the curled leaves of the singing vine. Sirru paused to drink, tJhen walked through the walls of the house and out into the morning. He was irri-tated to see that the house had no reluctance in letting him out.
It was early, but there were already a few people about. He passed an elderly shekei on its way back to its own quarter. Sirru looked hastily away, but not before catching a rank whiff of hierarchical disapproval. Shekei weren't so far above his own level, only about four grades, but in the hundreds of middle-ranking castes—such as the khaithoi and his own— nuances of social position were important, and people would seize on the slightest thing in order to prove themselves supe-rior.
That was not an encouraging thought. The connection be-tween Anarres and EsRavesh was gnawing at him. Face facts , Sirru told himself. If this khaith has become enamored of Anarres, then it's hardly lively to bode well for you, is it ?
He stepped impatiently out onto the platform above the airwell. Khaikurriye stretched below, fading into the morning haze at the horizon's edge. He could see the pale pylons of Fourth Quarter rising up against the mountains in the park, and this reminded him of the nightmare of the previous year. IrEthiverris had lived in Fourth Quarter, before being packed off to Arakrahali. A person at the edge of the platform gave him an angry glance; Sirru had transmitted his unease, a measure of his nervousness this morning.
Embarrassed by his impoliteness, Sirru activated the scale. Despite the risk he was running in having illegally engineered clothes, he was sure that he would be glad of the scale's modi-fications before the day was out. Sirru did not trust the khaithoi in any circumstances, and since he had learned of Anarres'
connection with EsRavesh, his trust was at an all-time low. Rumors of alterators ran through his mind: pheromonal boosters, illegal manipulations. He wished he were still asleep in Anarres' arms.
Sirru stepped off the edge of the platform and plunged into the airwell.
"I intend to be," Sirru replied, and kissed her.
She responded with enthusiasm, then drew back. "Sirru— do you know whether you'll be engaging in sexual mode widi the 'thaithoiV
"I don't know. I don't think so." He frowned. "We've com-municated in the usual combinations up until now: I speak with words and modes; they're just patronizing. I suppose if they have anything very complex or lengthy to discuss, they'll convey it sexually. Hope not, though." Sirru sighed. It was not an enticing thought. He had secrets that could prove danger-ous if he let them slip at the wrong moment.
"I only asked because, if so, you and I don't have to sleep to-gether tonight. If you'd like to conserve your energy, that is," Anarres murmured.
"Thank you for being so thoughtful, but that really won't be necessary," Sirru said hastily, and kissed her again.
AT dawn, the wind veered round to the north, bringing the scent of snow and rock resin from the distant mountains. The singing vine, evidently reminded of winter, shivered with a disconsolate chord. At the sudden song, Sirru woke, blinked golden eyes, and yawned with a snap of teeth. Anarres lay be-side him, coiled in the hollow of his arms, and Sirru watched her for a moment as she slept, moved by her fragility. In sleep, Anarres' mouth was slightly open, and he could see the tip of her jade tongue, just touching her lower lip.
Sirru smiled, remembering the night, and shifted against her. He held her close for a moment, twisting so that his throat was pressed against her own, and the soft skin at the inside of his elbow rested against the lower part of her breast ridges. He sent her a message: a complex combination of desire, grati-tude, and anticipation.
He pressed against her for a moment longer, wishing he could stay, then rose fluidly from the sleeping mat and slid into his robe. Rainwater had collected in the curled leaves of the singing vine. Sirru paused to drink, tJhen walked through the walls of the house and out into the morning. He was irri-tated to see that the house had no reluctance in letting him out.
It was early, but there were already a few people about. He passed an elderly shekei on its way back to its own quarter. Sirru looked hastily away, but not before catching a rank whiff of hierarchical disapproval. Shekei weren't so far above his own level, only about four grades, but in the hundreds of middle-ranking castes—such as the khaithoi and his own— nuances of social position were important, and people would seize on the slightest thing in order to prove themselves supe-rior.
That was not an encouraging thought. The connection be-tween Anarres and EsRavesh was gnawing at him. Face facts , Sirru told himself. If this khaith has become enamored of Anarres, then it's hardly lively to bode well for you, is it ?
He stepped impatiently out onto the platform above the airwell. Khaikurriye stretched below, fading into the morning haze at the horizon's edge. He could see the pale pylons of Fourth Quarter rising up against the mountains in the park, and this reminded him of the nightmare of the previous year. IrEthiverris had lived in Fourth Quarter, before being packed off to Arakrahali. A person at the edge of the platform gave him an angry glance; Sirru had transmitted his unease, a measure of his nervousness this morning.
Embarrassed by his impoliteness, Sirru activated the scale. Despite the risk he was running in having illegally engineered clothes, he was sure that he would be glad of the scale's modi-fications before the day was out. Sirru did not trust the khaithoi in any circumstances, and since he had learned of Anarres'
connection with EsRavesh, his trust was at an all-time low. Rumors of alterators ran through his mind: pheromonal boosters, illegal manipulations. He wished he were still asleep in Anarres' arms.
Sirru stepped off the edge of the platform and plunged into the airwell.
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