WHEN AFTER THREE TURNS around the grounds the men had not yet returned from the Terminal, Angus accompanied the women as they moved Sylvia’s things into Audley’s new apartment in the employee wing before bidding them good night. Sylvia unpacked her bags and hung her clothes in the closet while Audley drew herself a bath.

Once settled in and settled down, Sylvia sat on the toilet seat to do her nails while a pensive Audley soaked in the tub, thinking about Angus’ lesson on mates. She had rather ruled out being sexual playmates with Lanon, and if he couldn’t have children, there wasn’t much point in being helpmates. But the idea of being soul mates intrigued her.

What did it mean to have a relationship that addressed the aspects of the soul? What were her soul’s aspects? Since she wasn’t certain, did that mean that her soul was as undeveloped as Lanon’s emotions were undeveloped? Their prospects of ever being soul mates looked bleak. Given their differences, having come from different parts of the universe, she perceived that Lanon might never develop an appreciation for the full range of human emotions, and she might never develop a full appreciation of her soul. What the hell is a soul, anyway?

As the nail dryer blew warm soft air onto the fresh layer of rose-colored enamel, Sylvia asked, "Do you think Jessie will offer Brad a job?"

"Probably," Audley murmured through the bubbles. "He’s qualified. Angus likes him."

Sylvia squirmed and purred, "I like him, too."

It suddenly irritated Audley that her friend should be so smugly content while she herself had major personal problems to work out. She sat up slowly. "But what if he does go to work for the JCP, Sylvia? What would you do?"

"I would become a Zooid and live happily ever after."

"But what would you do? I mean, what could you offer the JCP? You don’t know how to do anything!"

Sylvia threatened to drop the electric blow dryer into the bathtub. "Audley Blackstone, what a mean thing to say! I’m not totally illiterate, you know. I’m sure I could do something! After all, I’m divorcing Roger because I’m sick to death of sitting around feeling useless!"

"Oh," Audley uttered, sliding back under the bubbles. "I thought you were divorcing Roger so you could marry Brad."

"I left Roger before I got involved with Brad, I’ll have you know!"

"Well, it sure didn’t take you long."

Sylvia stood her ground. "Audley, why are you being such a bitch all of a sudden? It didn’t take Brad and me long because we need each other. You never did need Brad, but I’ll bet it didn’t take you ten minutes to be dazzled by Lanon!"

"True," she had to admit, smug in the realization that the love relationship between her best friend and her former fiancé did not qualify for the responsible level of soul mates.

"Then why aren’t you two at least playmates?" Sylvia persisted.

"Because he isn’t emotionally ready," Audley allowed.

"Oh, that’s absurd. Men are never emotionally ready. You have to trick them into it."

"I don’t want to trick Lanon into anything." She pulled herself up, clean, and stood in the tub to dry off. Sylvia handed her a thick terry-cloth towel and said, "It seems to me that you’re the one who isn’t ready."

"You’re probably right, Sylvia," she said, rinsing out the tub, "I’m not ready."

"Well, have you at least let him know you think he’s special?"

Audley started a bath for Sylvia, sighed audibly then said, "He knows I think he’s special."

"Then what’s the deal? Isn’t he interested?"

Audley thought about the night in the motel room when he stood up, the blanket sticking out in front of him and his recent attempts to be romantic. She grinned. "Yeah, he’s interested."

Sylvia shrugged. "Well then, go for it!"

"I don’t want just a playmate, Sylvia! I want more than that!"

"Like what? Here." Suddenly Sylvia took off her ring and handed it to Audley. "Take it!"

"Don’t be ridiculous. It’s yours." In this gesture Audley recognized what she had thrown away and what Sylvia had acquired – a mortal victory. Sylvia had acquired a helpmate, a ‘real catch’. Audley was quick to suggest, "Unless you want a new one, of course. I’m sure Brad would get you a new ring if you want."

Sylvia put her ring back on triumphantly and slid into the tub. "Why would I want another one?" she mused. "This one is beautiful and it’s hardly ever been used."

"I guess that’s appropriate," Audley said, hanging up her towel. "You’ve hardly ever been used either!" Abruptly they laughed, happy in their friendship.

Audley meandered into the outer room, something still weighing on her mind. Too many things had happened lately that she hadn’t had time to process. Lighting a cigarette, she opened the door to the compound, allowing visual images to parade through her mind’s eye, critically surveying each one for signs of her discomfort. It was not because of Sylvia and Brad, no. She really was happy for them. What about quitting her job with Weinberger and taking on this new assignment? Hardly! A scoop series on the Jural Colony Project coming out in the Silent Majority could land her a nomination for the Pulitzer Prize in Journalism! Nothing wrong with that!

Across the compound, Lanon and Brad were just now returning from their visit to the Terminal. Brad was closing the door to his guest quarters when she spotted them, but Lanon saw her and waved. It was late. She waved back. "Good night!" His door closed.

It was something about Lanon. It was about the relationship between soul mates. He was here on a mission to bring the Zooids into open communication with the rest of the cosmos. What did that mean? How could she possibly compliment that? What was her mission? Did she need one? Did her soul?

Sylvia, coming out from her bath and slipping into bed, distracted her by asking, "When do you go out on assignment, Aud?"

"Whole Child."

"When’s that, pray tell?"

"Three days from now."

"I’m going to Reno in the morning to start my divorce proceedings. You have time. Why don’t you come with me?" She fluffed up her pillow and adjusted her covers.

"To Reno?" Audley resisted. "Whatever for?"

"Just to get away for a few days. Take a vacation. Wear some real clothes for a change and maybe meet a hunk right off the divorce press."

"Don’t be ridiculous," she snarled.

"Alright, forget the hunk, but come with me. We’ll go shopping, get our hair done. It would do you good to get away and get your mind off Lanon for awhile."

Audley closed the door and disposed of what was left of her cigarette, then crawled into her side of the bed. "You’re probably right," she acknowledged wearily, turning out the light.

"I know I am," Sylvia murmured.

In the dark, Audley’s mind wandered. A "hunk" indeed. A hunk of Lanon is just what she needed! Where was that cosmically condoned one-night-stand Angus had talked about? With other men, she’d had no trouble jumping into the sack. What was keeping her and Lanon from doing the same thing? Why wasn’t she hotfooting it across the compound right now instead of being in bed with Sylvia?

She was yanked away from her fantasy by Sylvia’s common ploy, to be lulled to sleep with a bedtime story. "What were you doing in Spain?" she asked in the dark.

"Spain?" Audley collected her thoughts, glad for something specific to focus on. "I went there to interview Professor Alexius Vessey, the founding father of the JCP."

Sylvia said, "Hmmm," meaning, "Go ahead, keep talking, I’m listening."

"He reminded me a lot of Dad, in a way," Audley reminisced vaguely.

"Hmmm?"

"Oh, I don’t know" she mused. "He was old. Wise."

"Mmmm."

Audley thought back to the evening with Alexius and Dierdre when, at dinner, she felt as if she were being drawn into some new dimension. How could she begin to describe such a thing?

"His wife is gorgeous, Sylvia!"

"What’s she do?" Sylvia’s voice was sleepy.

"Do? Dierdre? She doesn’t ‘do’ anything! She’s a perfect wife and mother."

"I mean for work. She doesn’t work?"

"She works all the time, but it doesn’t look like work. She manages their beautiful home. She takes care of her husband and their kids and the garden. What a garden! And those kids, Sylvia. I don’t usually like kids, but...." She recalled their sparkling eyes and laughter the day they gave her the sunbonnet to wear into the village. Without thinking, she found herself asking, "What about you, Sylvia? Are you and Brad going to have a family?"

Sylvia’s answer was so long in coming, Audley thought she might have said something wrong, but at last Sylvia murmured, "Yes, I want to have a baby," in such a way that Audley was glad. As Sylvia’s breathing lapsed into deep sleep, Audley wondered if her problem might have to do with Lanon’s inability to have children, but no, it was not about children.

Staring at the ceiling, she let herself delve deeper. Picking up her earlier train of thought, she let her mind take her to where her soul could see, and suddenly it was clear that her quandary was not about sex or marriage or children or even romance.

She threw off her cover and lit another cigarette, not surprised to discover her hands were shaking. Standing up and throwing open the door, she acknowledged that her problem was the one her father had pointed out to her many times before. She was mortal! No matter what Lanon was or where he was from, she was indissolubly mortal. Thus, she was vulnerable.

Standing in the open doorway, blowing smoke into the night, she realized that for years she had been passing judgment on the entire human race for their emotional weaknesses. She had disdained people who couldn’t embrace the unknown, who hid from adventure. She had looked with pity on those who, with their frailties, shrank from life, with its vicissitudes. And all the while she had been denouncing people for their fears, she had been totally oblivious of her own. She was afraid of love.

Long after the light in Lanon’s room went out, she closed the door, put away her smokes, and lay back onto the pillow, letting hot tears well up to roll down her temples and into her hair. She was afraid of love and afraid of life, afraid that love would be taken from her, and she would be left alone. It would be emotional suicide for her to fall in love with Lanon. Everybody knows that nothing lasts forever. Better to not get too close in the first place than to have to mourn its passing.