A Vail reactant hunched over vir fabricator. You could tell how tall ve was, vir body absurdly, disproportionately muscled. Fift was no expert on somatic design, but even ze could tell that this was a hack job by someone with neither taste nor talent; the chafed red eczema on vir arms and neck and the random patches of black hair scattered over vir face and chest and back looked like side effects of poor hormonal engineering.

And vir face: the startling white orbs of eyes with orange irises and long lashes; the orange lips; the fleshy whorls of ear . . .

Fift swallowed hard.

They were the eyes and lips and ears that strange anonybody in the riot had sported on its smooth blue head.

As if this Vail (Predoria Ithigast of name registry Soiled Butterlung 14, according to lookup—233 years old) had had the body configured that way on purpose. As if ve’d wanted to get caught.

{This one}, Pip sent, {kicked you in the head. Just explain it clearly and simply. Do not get carried away with emotion or indecision. Make the facts publicly clear, and this Vail will have to apologize or be dishonored. That is all there is to it.}

Fift didn’t remember Predoria kicking zir; but ze remembered vem kicking Shria in the ribs as ve crouched on the byway. Of the Vails who’d mobbed Shria, Predoria was the last one to leave. Fift was glad this Vail was on the list: ze wasn’t tempted to feel sorry for vem.

Predoria looked up, blankly, from vir fabricator.

“You kicked me in the head, in an anonybody, in the middle of a riot two days ago,” Fift said.

Predoria smiled. “That I did,” ve said.

Fift hadn’t expected that reaction.

“So,” Dobroc said, “I thought maybe I would share it. With others. Release it. Anonymously. If that’s all right with you—”

“Sure,” Fift said. “But—”

“Oh no,” Dobroc said. Zir hand pulled, slightly, away from Fift’s; the little gap of air between their palms was like a wound.

“What?”

“You said ‘sure, but,’” Dobroc said.

“I . . . what?” Fift wanted to reach for zir hand again, to clasp it tight, but ze didn’t dare.

“Just now. First you said ‘sure.’ And I—I thought that meant ‘yes,’ so I just . . . released it. But then you said ‘but’! So maybe you didn’t want me to?” Ze let Fift’s hand go entirely, and ran both hands through zir hair, pushing it up from zir scalp. “I’m so sorry. I was just so excited that . . . I mean, I can try and suppress it now . . . ? Maybe if—”

“No, no,” Fift said, feeling queasy. “It’s okay . . .” Ze held zir own hands in zir lap, one curled in the other like sleeping bodies.