“Great!” Tennal said. “Great, fantastic, we haven’t been meddling with forces we don’t understand or anything, can’t wait to explain that to the general staff. Dear sirs, I solved your problem by shoving your rogue commander through a wormhole we didn’t know existed. Her disembodied consciousness might be anywhere in the universe. You’re welcome.”

The corner of Surit’s mouth twitched. Tennal had missed that.

“I don’t think you had a choice,” Surit said. “And wherever she is, she’s not in our sector anymore.” He slumped back, against the remains of the screen. His warm-chestnut eyes went to Tennal with an intensity that Tennal didn’t think he’d ever get used to. “You brought me back.”

It meant something, a question Tennal only half understood. He didn’t know if he had an answer either—or rather he had too many answers, all of them tentative. I think I want to be here, Tennal didn’t say. I think I can live with myself. I’d like to believe I’ve finished fucking up just for the sake of it, but let’s be honest, I’ll probably do it again. I think I want you, Surit, after all the dust has settled. I think I can do this.

What Tennal said was: “Are you going to buy me dinner?” Surit choked. Tennal said, mendaciously, “Sorry, forgot you were too sensible for that.”

“I’m done being sensible,” Surit said. He shifted and looked up as the door clicked.

Tennal heard a voice outside shout, “Wait, Sen—your security—!”

That and the running footsteps were all the warning Tennal got before Zinyary flung herself on his crouched back like a limpet and said, “Tenn!”

It wasn’t a stable position for hugging. Tennal collapsed to the floor with Zin on his back. She clung with her arms around his shoulders; he clung to her wrists. Tennal’s mind had been full of Oma, Surit, fighting, survival. Now it was blank. His eyes were prickling and painful. Zin.

When he was sure his voice wasn’t going to crack, he rolled over—away from Surit, who had politely shifted backward—and said, “Lights, enthusiastic much? Let me breathe, sprat.”

The difference in Zin hit Tennal as soon as he saw her face. Her hair was up and had been styled by a professional. She wore a formal wrap-jacket like the legislator; it made her look five years older. She was crying and wasn’t admitting to it. Instead she punched him hard in the shoulder as he sat up.

“Ow,” Tennal said, “I’ve been looking for you for weeks. Is that any way to—”

“I’ve been looking for you!” Zin said. “Tenn, I could kill her. I thought you were dead. I made them go through the fatality lists. Where were you?”