Disclaimer: Sinclair, the Babylon Project, and the other dreams given form are all vanished into air, into thin air. Our insubstantial pageants thus faded, all credit must go to JMS, the Great Maker.

Thanks: Adi, for giving me clues to make this so much better.

"Delegate Mila Shar?"

The door opened, to reveal the Abbai agricultural delegate, smiling broadly. "Commander Sinclair," she said, gesturing him inside. "Come, please. It is good to see you."

He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside her quarters. "I came here to apologize, for my actions at the reception, and for the actions of the--"

"Please, commander," she said, sitting on a padded bench and indicating a seat across from her. "I understand completely. It has been a tumultuous couple of days, has it not?"

Sinclair almost couldn't believe his eyes. The nervous Abbai he had met at the reception and later saved from Homeguard had been transformed. She poured him a glass of tea and held it out expectantly.

He took it, smiling almost despite himself. "You seem... in good spirits."

"I am." She poured tea for herself. "I also spoke with Ambassador Kalika on your behalf. She is to take no diplomatic... retribution."

"That's very generous of you." He tasted the tea. It was very good; spicy yet sweet. "If I may ask, you're a lot more cheerful about the situation than I would expect. Why is that?"

Shar leaned back and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Do you know of the Abbai tradition of Daguri?"

"No, I can't say I do."

"It is a... masquerade, done at a coming of age celebration. The other participants are given roles, and the young Abbai has to respond to the game. It is a very old tradition." Shar laughed. "At mine, friends pretended to be a group of Dilgar, who captured a young friend. I had to save her. As you saved me."

"So..."

"We play many roles in our life, commander. But in our center, there is a deep pool of our own self that no other currents can reach. Before you saved me, I did not know what sort of person you are. And now I have a better idea."

Sinclair studied the Abbai. She was calmly sipping tea, radiating calm, and trust. It was frightening, in a way, how very much he had been given.

"I hope I can live up to your expectations."