Dobroc laughed. “No, a different Morinti. Morinti Frangle Polor of name registry . . . um . . .”

“I wonder what happened to Morinti Bob.”

“Well if you want to know, you’re going to have to walk to a Gate, because I’m not ferrying the feed back in here one answer at a time!”

Fift smiled. “I like wondering.”

On the wall above the couch-pit, a small yellow light glowed—the only narrow tendril through which the vast whirlwind feed outside was permitted to request the attention of this household. Yellow was its color for Fift, and it was bright.

“. . . but it looks like I should check my messages anyway.”

Dobroc looked back at the wall. “Oh—yes, you should.” Ze smiled. “And your timing is very good. Let me see . . . yes! What if you go now?”

“Now?” Fift blinked.

“Yes, now. To the Amber Gate!”

“Dobroc,” Fift said, “hold on. What is this about?” Outside, ze was descending the last stairway.

“Most illuminated and heart-held Fift, allow me my little game. The fact that you happened to think of fetching messages now is too Kumru-sent an opportunity to squander. Go!”

Fift knew that ze could probably ask Cemerid, the third of their triad, what Dobroc was up to. All four of Cemerid’s bodies were in the Sheltering: one asleep downstairs across the couch-floor from Fift, two playing rumcaddy in the lower arena, one at the Violet Gate working with a Far Historical generalysis team in Tearless.

“Oh, come on,” Dobroc said.

“Fine,” Fift said, grumpily. Ze let go of Dobroc’s hand, took a bite of the broibel, and stood up. Zir other body had reached the apartment door, so ze came in. Ze briefly made eye contact with zirself, then looked away in each body. Ze’d made zir skin lavender a while ago, an unfortunate choice ze kept not getting around to undoing. Ze got up and stood side by side with zirself in the doorway. Why would Dobroc want to send zir to . . .

“Dobroc,” ze said.

Dobroc looked up from zir soup, innocent as an ungendered babe. “Hmm?”

“It’s Shria, isn’t it?”

Dobroc didn’t look away. Zir brown-brown eyes held Fift’s calmly. “You’re too insightful, Fift. Yes, it’s Shria. Ve’s coming to train with me, and ve wants to see . . . us. This place. And I thought you’d like to welcome vem.”

Fift flushed. “Are you serious? You wanted me to just . . . stumble on vem, unprepared? I can’t believe this.”

Dobroc rubbed zir face thoughtfully. “Hmm. All right. Perhaps it was a bad idea.”

“What did you think? That we’d just . . . fall into each other’s arms?”

Dobroc shrugged, and now ze did look down at zir soup. “Perhaps.”

Fift rocked from one foot to the next, zir blood thudding through zir arteries. “Don’t play these kinds of games with me, Dobroc. For me, this is not entertaining.”

“I’m truly sorry, Fift,” Dobroc said, not looking up.