There was no room to think. Tennal made a noise of surprise then said into his mouth, “Lights, Surit, now?” But before Surit could pull away, Tennal seized the back of his neck and kissed back, unexpectedly hard. If Surit had thought it would be soft, he’d been mistaken; there was no yielding, kissing Tennal—not a millimeter of leeway given or taken. It was like kissing a landslide. Some inconceivably huge space unfolded in his mind, something insupportable, something unbearable.

When they broke away, after only a couple of moments, Surit grinned fiercely. “If not now, when?”

Tennal had shut his eyes, his whole face tense. But they had no barriers between them. His exaltation rang through both their minds like a bell.

Tennal opened his eyes. “So, before you buy me dinner, you might want to know,” he said, his smile intense and slightly off-key, “I’m half a dead alien.”

Surit’s mind went blank.

“Great news, so are you!” Tennal said. “I realize that’s not what you were looking for just now. But it’s probably important. Let me explain.”

They were no longer having weighty emotions. That was, to the sensible part of Surit, a relief. Surit shoved the burbling river of what he felt about Tennal deep down to where it couldn’t interfere with the mission.

“Smooth, Halkana,” Basavi’s familiar voice said gravely. Istara gave a gurgle of laughter.

Surit finally looked up past his laser focus on Tennal’s face. “What do you mean, alien? How did you get here?”

Tennal had backup, in this small, unoccupied office: Istara lounged against the desk sporting a smart civilian wrap, an ostentatious earpiece, and six light-screens trailing behind them. Istara looked, Surit realized, like one of the many interchangeable junior politicians he’d passed in the corridor. Basavi had donned a set of maintenance overalls; her face did not invite questions about their origin. And Tennal, of course, still had the Archer tabs on his shoulders.

Tennal looked extremely pleased with himself. “My access permissions still work,” he said. “I used to live in the Legislator’s Residence, you know. It’s all part of the same complex. Oma’s been spending all her time at the halls to consolidate herself as legislator. We thought she might have been holding you somewhere here.”

“She wasn’t,” Surit said.

“Well, you’re here now, aren’t you?”

“He sensed when you got into the building,” Istara said, exchanging a glance with Basavi. Her expression softened the moment Istara looked at her. Something had changed there. “It was very weird. Like a dog with a bone. I thought you weren’t synced anymore.”

Basavi tore her eyes away from Istara and grunted. “Tell him your alien theory, Halkana.”

Tennal’s eyes clouded. “Oh yes. Well. You know remnants are technically called … xenotechnology or something like that?”