Nolan smiled back a little uncertainly. He was clearly the outsider in this group, the only member of the team who did not come from a racial or sexual power base. In Inrhio, women controlled the wealth, the land, the succession—everything. Inheritances passed through the hands of the mother; she chose who her daughters would marry and bargained with her neighboring matriarchs for brides for her sons.

In Geldricht, though, it was the men who had absolute power. The women were, as far as Nolan had been able to observe, shamefully abused and degraded. He could not imagine what honor accrued to a man who beat his wife or mistreated his children. Among the indigo, although the matriarchy controlled the pattern of life, men were cherished and valued. And children were considered a treasure past price.

“Not emasculated,” Nolan said gallantly, “gratefully admitted to a wide circle of fascinating and elegant women.”

The women cooed and clapped their hands; the men were loudly derisive. Melina patted him on the shoulder. “Does Leesa know what a sweet boy you are? Does she appreciate you?”

Colt pointed at Nolan. “What’s to appreciate? He’s exactly as he was bred to be by you and all the rest of you women. He’s no different from any other downtrodden blueskin man I’ve ever met.”

“Well, if you think that, you haven’t met that many indigo boys,” Varella murmured, and Melina added a heartfelt “so true.” Varella added, “Nolan is sweet, you know. A lot of the blueskins back in-country are—agreeable, let’s say—but there’s something special about Nolan. He means it when he says things like that.”

“No one could mean it,” Colt informed her.

Nolan turned to Pakt. “This happens to me all the time. People talk about me when I’m sitting right here.”

“Doesn’t happen to me,” Pakt said with a grin. “I guess I’m a little harder to overlook.”

“Harder to like,” Melina said.

“But then, you don’t much like any man,” Pakt responded, “no matter what his color or attitude.”

Melina laughed. For the past six months, she had been living with a female lover, a jahla girl, as the indigo called it. Varella, Nolan, and the other blueskins had treated the news with the mild, courteous interest they showed in the rotating love lives of all their fellow workers, but the guldmen had been repelled and outraged. Melina and Colt had had a huge fight about it, in fact, a screaming match that had made stupefied coworkers come running down the halls in time to see Melina hit Colt in the chest with her balled-up fist. To which Colt had replied with a slap across her face that sent her stumbling four feet back into the wall. Pakt had dashed between them before either could strike again, muscling Colt back toward the door, holding Melina off with one imperious hand.