Elemak. "He's just a computer, after all - you said so yourself."
Nafai almost answered again, some snide comment to the effect that if the Oversoul was "just" a computer then Elemak himself was "just" a hairless baboon. Six months ago Nafai would have said it, and Elemak would have thrown him against a wall or knocked him down with a blow. But Nafai had learned a little since then, and so he held his tongue.
Luet was waiting for him in the tent. She had probably been dozing - she had worked hard since they started laying camp, and unlike the lazy ones she would be up early again in the morning. But she greeted him wordlessly with open eyes and a smile that warmed him in spite of the chill that Elemak had put in his heart.
Nafai undressed quickly and gathered her to him under the blankets. "You're warm," he said.
"I think the technical term is hot," she answered.
"Elemak is planning to kill me," he whispered.
"I wish the Oversoul would just stop him," she whispered.
"I don't think it can. I think Elemak's will is too strong for the Oversoul to make him change his mind once he's set on doing something." He didn't tell her that the Oversoul had hinted that somewhere along the line Nafai might have to kill his brother. Since Nafai had no intention of ever doing it, there was no reason to put the idea in Luet's mind. He would be ashamed to say it anyway, for fear she would then think he might consider such a thing.
"Hushidh thinks she senses Elemak bonding more closely with the ones who want to turn back - Kokor and Sevet, Vas and Obring, Meb and Dol. They're forming a sort of community now, and separating almost completely from the rest of us."
"Shedemei?"
"She wants to turn back, but there's no bond between her and the others."
"So only you and I and Hushidh and Mother want to go on into the desert."
"And Eiadh. She wants to go wherever you go."
They both laughed, but Nafai understood that Luet needed reassurance that Eiadh's desire for him was not reciprocated. So he reassured her thoroughly, and then they slept.
In the morning, with the camels packed, Elemak called them together. "A couple of things," he said. "First, Rasa and Shedemei have proposed it and I agree with them completely. While we're living in the desert, we can't afford to have the kind of sexual freedom we had in Basilica. It would only cause rancor and disloyalty, and that's a death sentence for a caravan. So as long as we remain in the desert - and that includes at Father's camp, and anywhere else that our population consists of just us and the three who are waiting for us - this is the law: There'll be no sleeping with anyone except your own husband or wife, and all marriages as they presently stand are permanent."
Immediately there was a gasp of shock from several; Luet looked around and saw that it was the predictable ones - Kokor and Obring and Mebbekew - who were most upset.
"You have no right to make a decision like that," said Vas mildly. "We're all Basilicans, and we live under Basilican law."
"When we're in Basilica we live under Basilican law," said Elemak. "But when you're in the desert you live under desert law, and desert law has it that the word of the caravan leader is final. I'll listen to any ideas until I have to make a decision, but once the decision is made any resistance is mutiny, do you understand me?"
"No one tells me who I must sleep with and who I may not" said Kokor.
Elemak walked up to her and faced her; she looked so frail compared to the sheer mass of Elemak's tall, well-muscled body. "And I tell you that in the desert, I won't have anyone creeping from tent to tent. It will lead to murder one way or another, and so instead of letting you improvise the dying, I'll let you know right now: If anyone is caught in a position that even looks like you're getting sexually involved with someone you aren't married to, I will personally kill the woman on the spot."
"The woman!" cried Kokor.
"We need the men to help load the camels," said Elemak. "Besides, the idea shouldn't seem strange to you, Koya, since you made exactly the same decision the last time you decided that somebody should die for the crime of