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idea which clan was running that pyramid?"

"No idea," Thrr-gilag said. "Probably one of the ones who think alien studies are beneath the dignity of a proper Zhirrzh. You know: 'The proper study of Zhirrzh is Zhirrzh,' and all that."

Abruptly, an Elder appeared, his torso coming partway through the tabletop. "Searchers Nzz-oonaz and Thrr-gilag," he said, his faint voice barely audible over the background noise. "Urgent message: you're both needed at the medical center."

"The Mrachanis?" Nzz-oonaz asked as he and Thrr-gilag scrambled to their feet.

"Yes," the Elder said. "Their metabolic readings have suddenly dropped. Searchers Gll-borgiv and Svv-selic think they may be dying."

"Get me some readings," Nzz-oonaz ordered, starting across the crowded tavern. "And tell Svv-selic to rig life-support gear."

"I obey," the Elder said, and vanished.

They headed for the door, the Overclan youths who'd been at their table forming a traveling wedge that cleared the way in front of them. They were just passing the end of the bar when the Elder returned. "Blood absorption readings on both aliens have dropped fifteen percent from their sleep levels," he reported. "Respiration has slowed and become erratic; galvanic response and brain-function activity are down twelve percent; cellular metabolic readings have dropped eight percent. Life-support equipment is in place and is being connected. Searcher Svv-selic has ordered four units of premarin colatyin for both aliens."

"Warn him to be careful," Nzz-oonaz said. "Overloading alien systems with untested drugs could kill them right here and now."

"I obey," the Elder said, and vanished.

They'd made it to the tavern's outer door by the time he returned. "There's been no response to the premarin," he said. "Six units of propodine miantoris are now being prepared for injection. Searcher Svv-selic says there's no choice now but to risk using these drugs."

Nzz-oonaz swore grimly under his breath. "Tell him we're on our way," he said as the group hurried out beneath the dark postmidarc clouds. "Let me know immediately if there are any signs of allergic reactions."

"I obey."

He disappeared. "Come on," Nzz-oonaz said, pointing Thrr-gilag to the left. "I've got a priority vehicle over here, a fast one. We can be there in three hunbeats." Thrr-gilag nodded. "Let's hope it's enough." It wasn't. They were across the public thoroughfare and speeding down the access tunnel toward the Overclan complex when the Elder brought the news that both aliens were dead.

They spent nearly a tentharc debriefing the technics who'd been on duty and analyzing every nuance of the events that had led up to the Mrachanis' deaths. Afterward came the autopsies-four more painstaking tentharcs' worth-which all four searchers sat in on. After that came more discussions, more analysis, and more study, stretching through the latearc.

By the time they were summoned to the Overclan Prime's private conference room, a tentharc after a gloomy sunrise, Thrr-gilag was as exhausted as he'd ever been in his life. And as discouraged.

"The summation line is that we simply don't know why they died," Nzz-oonaz said as he concluded their all-too-brief report. "It could have been a result of their injuries, the sudden upsurge of a disease organism they picked up during their short time on Base World Twelve, or some preexisting condition. Or something else entirely."

"Let me understand," the Prime said, his voice dark. "Our single most promising source of information about the Human-Conquerors, as well as a possible key to gaining some allies in this war. And you can't even tell me how they died."

"I'm sorry," Nzz-oonaz said, his voice quavering slightly beneath the combined glare of the Prime and the four speakers facing them. "We'll continue our studies, of course. But without a baseline for the species, it's unlikely we'll learn much more than we have already."

"I see," the Prime said. For a few beats his gaze swept the four