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between the colonists and ourselves that it was best to refrain.”
    The Dramok grimaced. It never failed to amuse Jol that a man whose career hinged on compromise had to be reminded often to do so. But in this instance, Ospar’s instinct to squash bad men could be excused, what with a child involved.
    “Pity. But a wise decision,” Ospar finally said, clearly hating his own words. He raked a hand through his shoulder-length black hair.
    To Jol’s right, their Imdiko spoke up. His mild tone betrayed none of the concern he no doubt felt. “Where were the child’s parents?”
    “There is only the mother. Iris Jenson.” Jol was profoundly aware of how his mouth formed the woman’s name. He saw again her tear-bright blue eyes, her pretty but too worried face, the strands of golden hair escaping from its messy ponytail and the woven brown cap on her head. He swallowed, wondering what she was doing at this moment.
    He made himself meet Rivek’s sharp eyes, eyes that were usually soft and warm. His Imdiko’s strong, chiseled features were framed by braids twisted into the forward part of his ankle-length hair. Even out of his long temple robes, any Kalquorian would know instantly they were speaking to a priest. What they wouldn’t realize was they were dealing with a man who was every bit as dangerous as most Nobeks. Fortunately, Rivek didn’t have to display that side too often. For the most part, he was a gentle Imdiko whose very presence could calm most agitated minds.
    Jol told him, “She was present and looking out for her son, but unable to retrieve Thomas in time. It was no fault of hers.”
    “I’m sure she was appropriately grateful for your help.” Ospar’s sarcasm came out with little bite. They were all used to Earthers, particularly women, keeping as much distance as possible between themselves and Kalquorian men.
    “She thanked me profusely.”
    “Really?” That brought back Ospar’s smile as he returned to his cooking. It made him look boyish, even younger than Rivek who was ten years his junior. “Sometimes they surprise me.”
    Jol thought of Iris. How she’d run with all she had to get to Thomas, no doubt knowing she’d be too late to save him. The terrible knowledge in her eyes, the tiny gloved hands reaching desperately from too far away. Then later staunchly defending the boy’s abilities, insisting Jol know how talented and intelligent he was. The Nobek wondered at the stubborn strength she showed despite how difficult her situation seemed. How vulnerable she looked on the surface.
    He made a hash with the ground meat and pressed it into the pie crust he’d prepared earlier. It was several minutes before he brought the subject up again. “They need help,” he said.
    Ospar raised an eyebrow. “The mother and boy? Did she ask for your assistance?”
    “I offered her a boundary protector. She seemed grateful to have it, for the child’s sake.” Now here came the part his Dramok would not like so much. “Her snow blower is inoperable, and the heating system in her home is about to quit.” The sound of impending failure when the shelter’s heat had kicked on had been obvious to Jol during his visit.
    Ospar pursed his lips. His duties and the hostility Earthers regularly showed Haven’s supervising Kalquorians were obviously much on his mind. It had been necessary to let the colonists govern themselves as much as possible, or Haven would barely be populated right now. Too much Kalquorian interference would hamper the growing numbers clamoring to settle there.
    After a few seconds’ consideration, Ospar said, “We have to be cautious with such things, especially when an Earther female is involved. I would not worry overmuch with the snow blower unless it becomes a safety issue.”
    Rivek folded his arms over his chest, unconcerned with the flour smearing all over his loose brown tunic. He spoke as he usually did, with quiet, measured tones. “The heating problem must be addressed