Fannie Mae sensed this.

"Yes, McKie, that is friendship, is love.  Do you possess this feeling toward Human female companions?"

Her question angered him.  Why was she prying?  His private sexual relationships were no concern of hers!

"Your love turns easily to anger," she chided.

"There are limits to how deeply a Saboteur Extraordinary can allow himself to be involved with anyone."

"Which came first, McKie - the Saboteur Extraordinary or these limits?"

Her response carried obvious derision.  Had he chosen the Bureau because he was incapable of warm relationships?  But he really cared for Fannie Mae!  He admired her . . . and she could hurt him because he admired her and felt . . . felt this way.

He spoke out of his anger and hurt.

"Without the Bureau there'd be no ConSentiency and no need for Calebans."

"Yes, indeed.  People have but to look at a dread agent from BuSab and know fear."

It was intolerable, but he couldn't escape the underlying warmth he felt toward this strange Caleban entity, this being who could creep unguarded into his mind and talk to him as no other being dared.  If only he had found a woman to share that kind of intimacy . . .

And this was the part of their conversation which came back to haunt him.  After months with no contact between them, why had she chosen that moment just three days before the Dosadi crisis burst upon the Bureau?  She'd pulled out his ego, his deepest sense of identity.  She'd shaken that ego and then she'd skewered him with her barbed question: