Wrot looked smug. “Especially since I am, so far, the eldest of the new elders of the new taif. Though I won’t be, if that Binnat makes up her mind. Ha! Binnat has always been prone to indecisiveness. But she is also very shrewd, that one. She would make an excellent elder.”
“You’ve already decided upon elders?”
Yaut and Wrot stared at her, as if she were a cretin. “Of course,” Yaut snorted. “How is this difficult? Who else would there be, beyond me and Wrot and Hami? And, as he says, the one Binnat, if she agrees.”
He glanced at Aille. “The others—this one especially—are obviously too young and impulsive and immature. Though, I admit, the breeding stock looks splendid.”
Caitlin shook her head, trying to catch up. “That’s not what I meant. How many Jao have agreed to leave their existing kochan and join the new taif? I would have thought . . . that would take a long time, for a Jao to decide. It can’t have been more than two hours since the Naukra dispersed.”
The answer was obvious, even before they spoke. All of Aille’s personal service, of course. And . . .
“How many?” she whispered, already knowing she had become part of a new legend.
“Hundreds, girl,” Yaut said softly, “here at Pascagoula alone. Thousands—tens of thousands—once the news spreads across the planet. Aille’s name will draw them like a magnet. He has become almost as popular among Jao here as among humans. And why not? Has he not rescued them from what seemed an eternity of endless confrontation with humans?”
For a moment, Yaut looked uncomfortable. “Besides . . . There are many veterans on Terra who like it here, if the conflicts would cease. It is a stimulating world, whatever else. And—being honest—it is not always easy, for those who are of low-status in low-status kochan. With a new taif, their lives will be more open, their possibilities for association greatly expanded.”
Wrot’s snout wrinkled. “That—coming from a Pluthrak fraghta! I could tell you tales . . . But, it is not needed.”
He drew himself up into a flamboyantly self-righteous posture: “I will not be the first to dredge up ancient grievances! Not Wrot! Once Wrot krinnu Hemm vau Wathnak—and now, Wrot krinnu Aille vau Terra.”
He was looking smug again. “We already chose the name. Me and Yaut and Hami—even consulted with the dilly-dallying Binnat—as the new elders. Took no time at all. Jao do not squabble like humans. The name was obvious, once we settled with the Preceptor that it would be unseemly to name the Bond as the root clan.”
Krinnu Aille . . .
Living in a legend, indeed. Caitlin knew that the names of Jao clans derived from that of their most illustrious founding member. Sometimes male, sometimes female—but, always, not one of the elders but one of the founding parents.
She realized, suddenly, why Aille’s posture—normally so controlled and elegant—was wavering all over the place. And could not stop herself from bursting into laughter.
Whatever else he was, however impressive in so many ways, Aille shared one characteristic in common with Caitlin herself. He was a virgin, too—and, unlike her, knew almost nothing about sex, even intellectually.
Just to make things worse, clearly enough the new taif elders were not about to waste any time. A bride—okay, groom, what’s the difference when you’re that naïve?—on the eve of his wedding!
Wrot confirmed her guess. Smugly.
“We will begin pouring the new kochan-house tomorrow. On the Oregon coast. With a big mating pool, of course. This will be a vigorous taif, ha! We will gain kochan status in no time!”
He and Yaut both bestowed looks of firm resolve upon Aille.
“And this one will make himself of use,” Yaut stated.
Epilogue
The Lovers
“Are you okay?” Kralik asked, leaning over Caitlin and stroking her hair.
She burst into laughter. “Is that a trick question? For Chrissake, Ed, of course I’m okay. Women have been doing this for millions of years, y’know. Getting rid of virginity is our most ancient and hallowed custom. Besides, it’s been two weeks since Oppuk thumped on me. Those bruises are all gone, and you sure didn’t inflict any new ones. Casanova couldn’t have been slicker.”