Lying across her I feel instants of penetration, access, doom, warmth, connection, and then the long-promised, necessary dark­ness. I am drawn into the center of that darkness by her murmurs and whines, finding at the end a moment totally damp and empty and I move through and out of the other end of that moment, gasping. For a time I think that I have seen something but, as always, it turns out that I have not. Nothing is new: consortment changes nothing. After the requisite time, then, I disengage deli­cately, having lost interest, and return to my room. Behind me I hear her whimpering madly in the darkness and wonder if she is an ally. She is saying words that Plotar said but in a different way.Bastard , she says.Bastard .