They lingered well past the point of emotional equilibrium. Neither wanted to leave the familiar haven of allu-a for the alien world outside. At last Moki began to tire, and Ukatonen broke the link with a bittersweet tinge of regret.

The door hissed open and Juna climbed down the spiral staircase to the garden. The garden was silent and empty, the bright sun lights shining down on the motionless plants. Everyone not on duty was at the reception. She felt vaguely guilty, slipping away like this.

Well, if they weren’t in the garden, they were probably in their cabin. She headed down the carpeted hallways until she reached their cabin. Opening the door, she peeked inside. Ukatonen and Moki were seated on the bed, lost in allu-a.

Juna sat on the cabin’s second bed and watched the two aliens. She had been so busy dealing with the details of getting them settled and preparing for orbit that she had been able to link with the Tendu only once. And the Survey had prohibited allu-a. It was a regulation that came from Earth, based on the report she had made four and a half years ago, when she was first marooned on Tiangi. She had barely known the Tendu then, and linking was still a strange and frightening invasion.

The regulation was stupid, but no one on this side of the jump gate had the authority to countermand it, so Juna had decided to ignore the rule. Moki had a deep physiological need to link with her. If he could not engage in allu-a with his sitik, he would become apathetic and depressed, and eventually die.

She sighed, wishing she was linked with the Tendu. Their skins were a calm, neutral celadon, reflecting their inward preoccupation. Seated, with their long limbs folded, they looked strangely childlike. The spidery, graceful Tendu had made her feel huge and awkward when she was on Tiangi. Here on the ship, they seemed somehow diminished. Ukatonen, who was one of the tallest Tendu she had ever met, barely came up to her chin, and Moki was nearly a foot shorter than that.