(Calm down, Neeva. Good they may be, perhaps even linyarii to a degree, but they are not Linyaari, and I for one am not sure how far we may trust them.)

 

(You are too cynical! Can't you feel the truth and love in this large red one's mind?)

 

(I agree with Neeva. This one at least is linyarii, if not technically Linyaari. We should tell them the truth of our mission.)

 

(We don't know that all of them are good people. From this man Ghiil's story alone it is clear that some, at least, of this race think nothing of experimenting on other sapient beings. Such behavior strikes me as more khievii than linyarii. Let us go slowly here.)

 

"So," Gill finished, "that's what we know about Acorna. And what we're all curious to find out is, exactly how did one of your younglings come to be floating in our sector, in a pod that couldn't have kept her alive many more hours, with no signal to alert anyone to her existence? You folks seem mighty concerned for her now; strikes me you've come a long way to retrieve somebody who seems to've been thrown out with the trash in the first place." He rested his big, heavy-knuckled hands on his knees and looked from one of the envoys to another, his bright blue eyes challenging them to account for the plight in which they had found Acorna.

 

(Neeva?)

 

(What do you think, Neeva? Shall we tell them?)

 

(You are the envoy, Neeva, and 'Khornya is your sister-child. The decision is yours.)

 

"Well?" Gill challenged as the silence after his speech stretched on and on. Most of the humans in the room waited eagerly for the Linyaari complement to Gill's story; only Raflk, once more absorbed in his star maps and calculations, -was oblivious to the mounting tension as the Linyaari looked at one another but did not speak.

 

(We love Acorna as our own child,) Delszaki Li told them. (We 'will not give her over to those who may have sought to destroy her in the first place.) He repeated his words aloud so that the other humans could understand the statement. Judit nodded firmly, Pal folded his arms, and Gill merely shifted his weight a little forward, like a man in a bar anticipating that fists might soon start swinging.

 

(The red one does not look so linyarii now, Neeva. He looks quite capable of violence. Do you really want to trust this race on so little evidence?)

 

(I would not give up my worst enemy to the Khieevi,) Neeva replied violently. (We are ethically obliged to tell them.)

 

(What if they throw us out and shut down like that first bunch?)

 

(We will have to take that risk. Anyway, I think they are telling the truth when they say that they do not know where Acorna is now. We have as good a chance of finding her as they do; in fact, if this Khaalum's deductions are correct, she may reach Home before we do!)

 

Thariinye snorted aloud. (They may be very nice bipeds, but their technology has some major gaps, and most of them can't even mind-speak. I shouldn't be surprised to learn that this Khaalum has gone haring off in absolutely the wrong direction. At least find out where they think he might have gone before you tell them.)

 

While this silent colloquy went on, Delszaki Li murmured with Pal and Judit in rapid Old Magyar. "They are concealing something from us; I can sense the shields in their minds. Also there is fear and guilt."

 

"They'll have to tell us more before we give away anything about Acorna. You've said too much already," Pal said, then bit his lip. He had never before ventured to criticize his employer and benefactor.

 

"Fear you may be right," Mr. Li whispered.

 

Gill glowered at being shut out of this exchange, even though he understood the necessity for using some language other than Basic Interlingua. Feeling useless among all these polyglots and telepaths, he rose and went over to look at the lines of light Rafik's calculations had produced on the projected star maps.

 

Thariinye felt much the same. All three of the senior Linyaari were looking at him with deep disapproval, as though taking reasonable precautions against an unknown race were a khievii act on an ethical par with eating one's young. He could not remove himself from the mental discussion, but he could-and did- leave the tea table to stroll across to the wall of projected star maps, where he leaned over Gill's shoulder and studied the display with growing interest. It was difficult to read, and showed the heavens at entirely the wrong angle, but as he began to understand the alien notation he was able to mentally map these images onto the three-dimensional picture of the stars in space that he carried in his head.

 

As anybody who has proved even the simplest geometric theorem knows, there is a mental language of geometry that exists independently of any spoken language. First comes a kinesthetic sense of the "meaning" of the theorem-a sort of "Aha! If this moves over there then that has to swing round this point about so far, so it will always be the same length as that-over-there." Afierward comes the laborious process of translating the intuition into Line AB and Point C and so forth and so on.

 

Thariinye, looking on as Rafik muttered calculations and traced lines of light on the projection, was able to follow the logic of Rafik's thinking in these intuitive terms. And when he touched Rafik's arm, waggled his eyebrows, and suggested that an arc be minutely widened to cover a slightly greater subsection of space, Rafik frowned, nodded, and changed the light-diagram without the necessity of a word being said. But at the next suggested course correction, Rafik shook his head violently. "You don't understand," he said. "We know there is a fault in the hydropon^s unit." He had to repeat that very slowly before Thariinye waggled his eyebrows to show comprehension. "They must stop before they leave our explored space. The question is, where would they be most likely to stop for supplies? If Calum took this route, he could pick from a salad bar of ag planets in these two star systems; if he took this one, there's nothing, he'd have to backtrack. But I'm betting he would pick neither the quickest route nor the worst one. Something shaped like a corkscrew •would appeal to the shifty bastard. And that would bring him out somewhere near here." Rafik tapped a point representing a distant sun to bring up a closer view of the system. One panel darkened, then displayed a glowing white outline within which was shown a reddish sun with only three planets orbiting it, two far too close to support the temperate-region greens Acorna favored.

 

Thariinye reached out and touched the image of the third planet. It looked right to him: a little larger than Home, far enough from the sun to be in the right temperature range, slightly tilted in its elliptical orbit. Two moons, one large enough to cause tides, the other a mere speck, orbited the planet.

 

The panel beeped, the color of its glowing outline changed to green, and a close-up view of the selected world appeared. Thariinye studied the arrangement of continents and seas approvingly. Yes, this world might well have an ideal climate for farmers. He extended one finger to touch a pattern of light blue triangles and diamonds that looked like a string of beads scattered across the largest continent, and waggled his eyebrows at Rafik rather than hurt his mouth framing a question in this awkward language.

 

"Ag settlements," Rafik said, "and one spaceport." He indicated the six-armed star set toward the bottom of the chain of blue marks.

 

(Neeva. They are heading in the right direction.)

 

(Wonderful!)

 

(No. Not wonderful. Come and look!)

 

Thariinye extended his hand with an imperious gesture. Rafik raised his own brows, but after a moment looking in the young Liinyar's eyes, he gave him the laser drawing tool.

 

"Res-taare fiirist diispla?"

 

After a moments pause, Rafik said, "Oh-restore first display? Sure." He snapped his fingers twice. The panel showing a close-up view of Rushima faded back into the general picture.   With swift, sure gestures Thariinye sketched many parallel lines of light, originating at the far upper right of the screen and approaching the human-settled portion of the galaxy at an oblique angle that would shortly cut right across the bottom of the screen, passing directly through the solar system that hosted Rushima.

 

(Look, Melireenya, Neeva, Khaari. Our 'Khornya is going here, and so) -Thariinye tapped the parallel bands of light-(are the Khieevi. There is probability eighty-nine percent that the first world they destroy will be the one for which 'Khornya is bound. We have no more time to debate -we must trust these barbar .. . ) He jammed the brakes on that thought. ( ... these linyarii beings.) They had better be truly linyarii, for all their sakes!

 

Neeva's pupils narrowed to threadlike lines of silver as she took in the devastating message of the star map. She could not make the mental translation to their notation and angle of view as rapidly as Thariinye had done.

 

(Navigation Officer! Do you concur with Thaaris conclusion?)

 

Khaari rose and joined Thariinye close to the display. After a moment her own pupils narrowed like Melireenya s. (About the Khieevi he is correct. Envoy. As for the route supposedly taken by 'Khornya, I cannot say. It is certainly a possible way to approach our sector . . . but it seems unnecessarily roundabout.)

 

(This dark one has explained it to me,) Thariinye broke in. ('Khornya left without the permission of these beings. They believe she has taken an unusual route in order to avoid messages ordering her to return.)

 

All four of the Linyaari turned to stare at the humans sitting round the table.

 

"Something's wrong," Judit murmured to the others. "Look at their eyes." Acorna's slit-pupiled look of grief or emotional tension was repeated four times over in the long, elegant faces confronting them.

 

"Delszaki Li." Neeva spoke aloud, carefully, and with only a slight lingering trace of accent in certain syllables. "We . . . haave not been . . . enitirely open with you. We haad anyother purpose in comiin to your people."

 

"Is obvious," Li whispered. "Was wondering how long it would take you to admit it. Now we speak freely?"

 

"Yes, fireeli," Neeva said. "Iss little time." (Calculate expected time of arrival of Khieevi fleet. Navigation Officer! You will aid. Computation Specialist Thariinye! I want an estimate before they ask for one! It is time to take action!)

 

Maganos, Unified Federation Date 554.05.18

 

 

 

Neeva began to tell the story of the Khieevi invasion of the First Home, haltingly in the beginning, then with more assurance as her tongue became accustomed to the awkward syllables of the speech called "Basik."

 

"Vhiliinyar we called it: 'Home of the People.' What need for another name? And our star was called 'Light of the People.' Other stars, other lands, we named as we first ventured into space: named for their position, for their discoverers, for the color of their light or the quality of their resources. We took what we needed from other systems, and groups of the People dwelt away from Vhiliinyar for a time to explore and use these other lands, but there was only one Home, and now it is no more."

 

"Vhiliinyar thiinyethilelen, fiinyefalaran Vhiliinyar," murmured the other three Linyaari in their own tongue, a soft ritual plaint of mourning that needed no translation. "We see that your race has seeded itself over many star systems," Neeva continued. Have you, then, experience of the Khieevi already, that you protect yourselves by this diversity? "

 

"Population pressure," Gill said. He gave a quick estimate of we rate at -which human populations tended to expand, given sufficient food, and Neeva's pupils slitted to silvery lines. "I see! We do not reproduce so quickly," she said with regret. "Many generations will pass before the People recover from the devastation created by the Khieevi. Your race may yet be more fortunate. Even though they destroy one or many worlds, yet will others of you survive and replace those who are lost."

 

"I think," Pal prompted gently, "you had best tell us exactly what you know of these 'Khieevi.' Where do they come from, what are their customs, and what is the reason for the war between your races? Are they humanoid or completely other? What have they said to you?"

 

Neeva shook her head. "If I knew these things, I would surely tell you. They. . . they do not Communicate. They destroy;

 

and before they destroy, they torture. Of their tongue we have too few samples for the LAANYE to analyze; of their physical structure we know only what is shown on the broadcasts they have sent to cow us into submission. When their first ships appeared in our space, we sent envoys to them, as we have come to you, in peace and friendship. Those envoys never returned, but we know their fate from the images sent back to us. I think I wall not show you those vids; there is no need to harrow your hearts with the images engraved on ours. Our envoys, and all of the People who have subsequently fallen into Khieevi hands, have been tortured to death as slowly as Khieevi arts permitted. Fortunately for us," she added drily, "they were initially unaware of how fragile our bodies must be compared to theirs; the first captives died quickly. Since then they have learned more of our physiology."

 

She explained that at the time of the first Khieevi attacks, the Linyaari had been a space-faring race but not a warlike one; it was all but impossible to make war on or harm beings whose grief and pain you could feel, through telepathic contact, as clearly as your own. Gentleness and empathy had been bred into Linyaari culture until any other way of being was all but unthinkable. And although they had, in their explorations of space, encountered other sapient aliens, none of those races had been so well developed or so powerful as to force the Linyaari to learn the arts of war-or even of elementary self-defense. The only real change caused by their encounters with other races had been the development of the LAANYE, the linguistic analyzer which allowed them to acquire a basic understanding of alien languages from a relatively small speech sample.

 

"Strange that they would develop such a device when they had no prior experience of language translation," Rafik commented sotto voce.

 

"Is logical development," Mr. Li contradicted him in a whisper. "No different languages among their own people, hence no false generalizations as to 'true nature of language' such as human linguists produce. Also no development of natural ability to learn other languages, perhaps no brain structures adapted to such task. Is only logical these most intelligent beings would turn to technology for solution."

 

Rafik shrugged. Having been brought up trilingual, in the Arabic and Armenian of his family house and the Basic of interstellar commerce, he could not even imagine a world in which all intelligent beings spoke but one language and regarded other tongues as codes to be broken by communications software.

 

"From the Khieevi," Neeva said, "we learned the arts of war . . . but not quickly enough. First we fled them, abandoned Vhiliinyar rather than commit violence against other sapient beings . . . but not all. Too many of the People refused to believe the evidence of the Khieevi 'casts; it was beyond their comprehension that any beings could attack others in this fashion. They learned . . . too late . . . and the Khieevi showed us what happened to them. Even if the Khieevi were to abandon Vhiliinyar now, the People who remain could not return. The land would be alive with the memory of pain and betrayal; the water would be tainted with the blood of innocents."

 

"Vhiliinyar thiinyethilelen, fiinyefalaran Vhiliinyar," repeated the other Linyaari.

 

Neeva went to the star map and asked Thariinye to make it display the Coma Berenices quadrant. With Rafik's help, the projection was changed, and using the laser pointer, Neeva traced lines of light showing the Linyaari dispersion to planets in other systems, far enough away, they hoped, to evade Khieevi notice. This flight had bought them enough time to adapt their technology to space war and defense systems, and also time enough to establish certain stringent rules for all their people. "No more Linyaari shall die under Khieevi torture," Neeva told them. "We have all taken a vow to die at our own hands before falling into the claws of the Khieevi. For some years this was not necessary. Having conquered Vhiliinyar, and our neighboring world of Galleni, the Khieevi did not move again for a time. But we did not cease our studies and explorations. We have had two objects; to find a way of traveling much farther and faster than any known spacecraft, so that we might escape the Khieevi for good; and to develop defense systems that might annihilate the Khieevi, both in our own defense and so that other races might not be totally exterminated like the dharmakoi of Galleni."

 

"Galleni thiinyethilelen, fiinyefalaran dharmakoi," murmured the other Linyaari.

 

"One of our foremost scientists, Vaanye of the Renyilaaghe, had adapted his researches into the topology of space to weapons research shortly before his death," Neeva told them. "He had discovered a way of temporarily collapsing the dimensional fabric of space at a selected point, which created an inordinately large and destructive explosion at the point of origin. Vaanye had told us only that there were a few minor side effects to use of the weapon, such as the fact that it destroyed whoever employed it as well as the intended target, when he and his life-mate made the mistake of taking a short cruise in order to show their first youngling to ... me." Neevas pupils narrowed into vertical silver lines of distress. "My sister Feriilawas Vaanye s ... wife," she explained, "and I had been on duty at an outlying planet in the same system, attempting to establish diplomatic relations with a race of large quadrupeds which at first contact had appeared to be sapient. This was later proved to be an error; they had neither language nor social organization nor any long-term memory. It was an error which cost Feriila her life, for Vaanye s cruise coincided with the Khieevi discovery of this star system. Our new planetary defenses thwarted their first attack-but Vaanye, in space, had no such defenses. For three ghaanyi we have believed that Vaanye destroyed Feriila, their youngling, and the ship rather than allow them to be captured by the Khieevi. We were astonished to discover that an escape pod from Vaanye's ship had survived the explosion only to be transported to this remote sector of space . . . and even more surprised to find that my sisterchild had been raised to maturity among you."

 

"Ha!" Pal exploded. "So you didn't come for Acorna."

 

Neeva inclined her head with a graceful gesture that indirectly reproved Pal.

 

"No. Since our present planetary defense systems have at least temporarily repelled the Khieevi attack, we have observed that the number of their ships near the systems we inhabit is greatly diminished. Some of our people conjecture that their fleet has gone in search of other, easier worlds to conquer. With the smaller number of Khieevi ships patrolling our space, it was possible to send out parties of envoys with some hope of escaping Khieevi detection. We felt it our duty to discover if any other sapient races might exist in the path of the Khieevi fleet, and to warn them if such existed."

 

"Did you know they were coming this way, then?" Gill asked.

 

"There were several paths they might logically have taken. We sent groups out in all such directions." Neeva paused, her pupils narrowing again. "Not all ships made a successful escape from the remaining Khieevi . . . but ours did, and we were instructed to continue on our way. Recent transmissions from narhii-Vhiliinyar-you would say. New Home-have emphasized the urgency of our task, as it is now known that a large Khieevi fleet is indeed making a sweep toward this sector of space. We hope to make alliance with you, to share our technology and what we have learned of the Khieevi with whatever resources your race can muster, that they may not fall upon you unwarned as they did us. And now, as well, we hope to find my sister-child and bring her back to the People ... if she can be saved from the Khieevi into whose path she is heading."

 

Gill had been moving restlessly in his seat, bursting with questions. How and when had the Linyaari seen Acorna's escape pod and learned of her existence? Who had told them to look for her here on Maganos Moon Base? And why had they been so secretive and indirect in their first approaches on Maganos? But Neeva's last statement thrust all his previous questions into the background.

 

"Great Gods, woman," he roared, "do you mean to tell us these beasts are headed for Rushima? Why the devil did you draw it out so long? Rafik, send a coded spurt to Rushima immediately! There's no time to waste!"

 

"Gently, Gill," whispered Mr. Li. "Is important to know all salient facts. Right action can arise only from right understanding."

 

"I should think the action needed is obvious enough!"

 

"Declan Giloglie," said Judit firmly, "chill."

 

Gill subsided into his chair, muttering into his quivering red beard, and Rafik looked at Judit with new respect.

 

"How did you do that?" he murmured in her ear.

 

"Practice," Judit replied, equally quietly. "My first employer on Kezdet had a hunting dog which it was my responsibility to train. Behavioral training principles turn out to be applicable across species."

 

"When we have a moment," Rafik responded, "I want to see if you can get him to heel."

 

Judit's lips twitched. "No, but given the right motivation he •will sit up and beg."

 

Rafik intercepted a meaningful glance from Mr. Li and, abandoning this badinage, he slipped out of the room to consult with Li's secretary about the fastest route by which to send a coded spurt-message to Rushima for immediate transmission to the Acadecki. The message would have to have a header that would persuade Calum and Acorna not to reject it unheard, yet it must not contain anything that would start a general panic on Rushima. Hmm . . . Wasn't Rushima an outlying colony of the Shenjemi Federation? Best apprise the Federation, too, of the situation ... or as much as could be encapsulated in the very condensed but fast-traveling spurt. Let the Shenjemi decide whether to defend or evacuate Rushima; Rafik s first responsibility was to get Acorna and Calum out of there at once. Then perhaps the Linyaari envoys could set up a communication link with the Shenjemi to discuss their next step.

 

The messages sent, Rafik returned to the deliberations in Mr. Li's innermost office. All the interior walls except the one  devoted to vid-screens now glowed with star maps; arcs of light radiated from one system to another, and geometric shapes denoting star fleets moved with agonizingly deliberate velocity to converge on the Rushimese system as various parties put forward their suggestions for mobilizing a defense against the Khieevi attack. Gill pointed out that Kezdet's own Guardians of the Peace had a large space fleet at their command, testimony to Kezdet's acquisitive ways and tendency to demand "taxes" or "reparations" from neighbors on the slightest excuse.

 

At his command, the star-map projector displayed a fleet of golden rhomboids moving from Kezdet toward Rushima, but taking a far more direct route than that presumably chosen by Calum. "They could be there within five days."

 

"You can't be serious!" Judit flared up at him. "Shake hands with Kezdet, count your fingers," she quoted a proverb popular in this and neighboring star systems. Pal nodded his agreement. Having escaped the infamous system of child bondage on which Kezdet's old industrial empire had been built, a system protected by the Guardians of the Peace, neither of the Kendoros was inclined to trust a Kezdet Guardian in the slightest.

 

"Oh, they're not all that bad," Rafik said. "Smirnoff and Mmkus, for instance - "

 

"Smirnoff's a psychopath!" Gill interjected. "And out for your blood, in case you've forgotten."

 

"True," Rafik nodded, "but he did save my life by disarming the bomb Tapha meant to kill me with. Whatever else you may say against Des Smirnoff, he's no coward."

 

Gill snorted. "Maybe not, but he's still an idiot. Remember who let Tapha get past security with that bomb in the first place? No, thank you. We don't need clowns like Smirnoff and Minkus in this operation. They're liable to get your whole hand blown off instead of just taking a couple of fingers!"

 

"This insignificant old person has dealt with Kezdet for many years and still has all fingers intact, though unfortunately not functioning," Mr. Li pointed out. "But Kezdet fleet is designed tor small-time piracy and aggression on weaker neighbors. Gill, not for defense against armada. Send Guardians to Rushima is to sign their death sentence."

 

"Well, now," said Pal and Judit simultaneously, their brows clearing, "if you put it that way ..."

 

"Besides," Li added, "Kezdet is not known for altruism. Will hardly strip their system of defenses in order to protect agricultural colony belonging to Shenjemi Federation."

 

"Rafik, has Shenjemi responded to the spurt yet?"

 

Rafik glanced at the small portable com unit which he had set to display all incoming messages from Shenjemi-or Rushima.

 

"More or less."

 

A voluminous spurt from Shenjemi was still being expanded and decoded; the words scrolled across Rafik's screen as he watched.

 

"First, they request proof that this so-called attack on Rushima is not a hoax, and they want to know what connection this message has with the spurt they recently received from Rushima claiming the planet was under attack by space pirates."

 

"The Khieevi-already?" Judit paled.

 

"I don't think so," Rafik replied. "The Rushimese seem to think they're being attacked by some group called the Starfarers. . . . Now, where have I heard that name before? Oh, yes. . . . Uncle Hafiz mentioned them once; they used to be the Free Nation of Esperantza. Amalgamated diddled them out of the planet they'd just settled and stripped it for mineral assets, but they refused to take the resettlement offer-claimed they'd been cheated and would settle for nothing less than having Esperantza restored and returned to them. They turned their space station into a mobile colony and have been wandering around for yonks, staging protests and doing odd jobs in space to finance themselves.' He frowned. "But they were always very ethical.. . obnoxiously ethical. I can't see them turning to piracy, no matter how hard up they were. This must be some other group with the same name."

 

"Besides," Gill said, "Rushima s not exactly the ideal target for pirates, is it? What sort of loot could they take off an ag planet? Loads of grain? Some nicely rotting silage?"

 

"To get back to the Shenjemi Federation," Rafik said, "they have sent a spurt direct to Rushima requesting confirmation and have as yet received no reply; third, Rushima's ROI-return on investment," he translated for the Linyaari, "is too low to justify the expense of a full-scale defense. They are considering sending a small fleet to evacuate the planet and relocate the colonists, should there be any basis for our 'hysterical' message." He shrugged slightly and touched the display of red stars for Shenjemi ships to stop the forward movement of the simulation. "Let's hope they make up their minds in time. How much time do we have?"

 

(Khaari?)

 

(I'm working on it!)

 

(Between one and two enye-ghanyii,) Thariinye announced.

 

Khaari sighed and rolled her eyes. (I hate to admit it, Neeva, but the brat's probably right. I'm trying to get you a closer estimate.)

 

(Brat! I like that! You're only one age group ahead of me, Khaari!)

 

(Children, quit squabbling! I can't hear myself think!)

 

After a few minutes' consultation with Judit and Gill, Neeva said, "If the Khieevi observe Rushima and choose to take it, they will probably begrnn operations in ... I think eight to"-she counted on her digits for a minute, murmuring-"I do wish somebody would add arithmetic capabilities to the LAANYE; I cannot add in base tenn." She muttered to herself in Linyaari for a moment, then lifted her head. "Yes. Two-tenn to six-tenn of your days."

 

"Twenty to sixty?" Gill asked hopefully. "Or twelve to sixteen?"

 

The number words were within the LAANYE's capacity, if the arithmetic was not.

 

"Twelfto six-teen," Neeva said firmly.

 

Gill whistled. "You didn't give yourselves much lead time, did you?"

 

"Be reasonable. Gill," Judit said. "They risked their lives to get away from narhii-Vhiliinyar at all. Are you going to criticize them because they reached us just ahead of the Khieevi?"

 

"It's a whole lot better than getting here just after the invasion," Pal pointed out.

 

"Let's just hope the Shenjemi Federation get their collective finger out in time." Gill said. "And in the meantime, let's have Acorna out of there. Rafik, what word from Rushima? They must have received our spurt by now."

 

Rafik shook his head. "It didn't get through." "WHAT? ? ? " Gill lunged half out of his chair. "What did You do wrong'

 

"Chill," Rafik said firmly. He was disappointed to see that the word was not effective when it wasn't delivered in Judit's calm voice. "Look, Gill, nothing is getting through to Rushima right now. The Shenjemi couldn't raise a reply either. And the AcaSecki isn't receiving OR transmitting."

 

"If these Khieevi have already got there-"

 

"Imm-possible," Thariinye said in an atrocious accent, but with great authority.

 

"More likely it's space weather," Rafik pointed out. "A bad disturbance in the ionosphere could bring satellite communications down for several hours, even days."

 

Judit touched Delszaki Li's desk-console screen with one finger, murmured a few words, then tapped the screen again. "Unlikely. The Galacticapedia says Rushima is noted for its temperate and even climate. Atmospheric and ionospheric storms are virtually unknown."

 

"In any case," Mr. Li put in, "dare not wait days, or even hours. Someone must go to warn Rushima, and to bring Acorna and Calum back. Here, we continue to resend spurt message, make plans for defense, encourage Shenjemi to evacuate Rushima."

 

"And what happens if the Khieevi bypass Rushima?" Rafik asked.

 

"They find richer pickings closer in," Gill said grimly. "Depending on their tastes. . . . Neeva, what do these Khieevi want?"

 

Neeva shook her head. "You know the fate of our envoys. We have never established communication; whatever they want, it is not that. I know only what they do. They destroy."

 

"Do they colonize the planets they take? Are they looking for living space?"

 

Neeva thought that over. "They . . . yes, they now inhabit Vhiliinyar; but our scouts report that we would not know our home again. They . .. they ..." She choked, could not find words in Basic to describe the devastation, but Delszaki Li's eyes widened as he took in the images of desolation that filled her mind and the thoughts of the other Linyaari.

 

"Valleys and green hills become plains," he said, straining his voice to communicate what he perceived to the others. "Orchards and cities are leveled. All native life is destroyed, down to the insects in the air and the bacteria in the earth. A river becomes a foul marsh breeding clutches of small Khieevi in the thousands. Dry land is an ocean of grass in which the mature Khieevi fly. And the bones of the Linyaari are piled in monuments."

 

"The Mongols meant to do the same to Western Europe, once," Rafik said. "It would have been in the"~he paused and flicked fingers swiftly over the string of amber beads knotted in his belt-"in the thirteenth century, Old Reckoning. Chroniclers of the time say they advanced like locusts, devouring and destroying all before them, and attacking so swiftly that the mounted knights of the West had no time to assemble a defense. Impregnable walled cities went down before them, whole lands were depopulated, and they boasted that they would make of the entire world nothing but a vast steppe over which they might ride wherever they would. Fortunately," he said, "this was before our people had space travel, so it did not occur to them to extend the devastation to other planets."

 

Neeva drew in her breath in shock at this revelation.

 

(Did you hear that? Their own histories recount such behavior!)

 

(Have we made a mistake in seeking alliance with them? Perhaps they are more khievii than linyarii after all.)

 

(What choice did we have?)

 

(I think we are safe enough. They, too, have no choice. How could they ally with the Khieevi, who destroy anyone who lingers long enough to communicate with them? They must help us to turn back the Khieevi, else their own worlds will suffer as did our Home.)

 

Gill thought the Linyaari simply had nothing much to say.

 

"Very interesting, Rafik," he said. "But the Mongols did not succeed. I've seen Earth; its not a featureless steppe, and Europe has cities and monuments dating from long before the time you mention. So what turned them back?"

 

Pal and Judit turned to Rafik, hopeful.                 •' Rafik shook his head slightly. "Their leader at home died," he said, "and they thought it was more important to go home and vote than to continue the conquest; they could always destroy Europe some other time. Fortunately, they never got back to it."

 

"Oh," Gill said, disappointed. "I don't suppose we can count on that happening again. You'll just have to think up some ruse, Rafik."

 

"Me?"

 

"You and Delszaki Li are the brains of this outfit," Gill told him blandly. "Me, I'm just a simple, horny-handed son of the lunar regolith. You two work out how humanity is going to exterminate this swarm of killer bees, and I'll just pop off to Rushima and fetch our Acorna home again. Mr. Li, what's the fastest ship Maganos has available right now?"

 

"Wait just a minute," Rafik protested. "You'll go for Acorna? Excuse me, but I believe I have some interest in this matter as •well."

 

"And I, "said Pal.

 

"You're not going anywhere without me," Judit said.

 

"You two can't go," Gill protested, "Mr. Li needs you. And Rafik has to stay here and think."

 

"I could think just as well on board a ship as anywhere else, Rafik said, "and anyway, I'm not nearly twisty enough to solve this problem. What we need is somebody who can persuade all the major planetary federations to disburse large sums of cash and most of their defense systems, up front, to guard against an alien threat that they've never heard of and that is being described only by some other aliens."

 

He paused, appalled at the magnitude of the task, so described.

 

"What we need, in fact," he said finally, "is Uncle Hafiz." He pounded one fist into his palm in frustration. "And he is walled up behind the Shield, where no one can communicate with him ... or the rest of Laboue ... at all."

 

(Walled up behind the 'Shield'? Khaari, I have a bad feeling about this. Do you suppose that first planet we approached . . . )

 

(Oh, no!)

 

(Oh, yes.)

 

Aloud, Neeva said, "Where is it, this Laboue?"

 

"Not on the maps," Rafik said. "My uncle and the others who make it their headquarters prefer their privacy. And I am sworn to House Harakamian now; on the lives of my unborn sons, I may not tell you its location."

 

Neeva nodded. "Tell us nothinn, thenn," she acquiesced, "but I am not forbiddenn to tell you that before we approached you onn Maganyos . . . Maganos," she corrected herself, "we had made contact by vid with residents of another planet on the fringes of your settled area, the first one we identified. Since at that time we did not have the LAANYE programmed to teach us your language, we attempted to communicate by vid; we showed them some of the scenes broadcast from Khieevi torture ships, to make them aware of the danger. We received a brief vidcast from the planet.. . there was a biped .. . human .. . dark as you, Rafik, who showed us pictures of Acorna and a drawing of her escape pod. That was how we learned of her existence. But before we could question this human further, the entire planet was shut down under an impenetrable shield that blocked all communication, even visual transmission. Our only clue was a message sent from the location we had been communicating with, indecipherable but for the one word 'Acorna.' That message went to a ship which then departed hastily in this direction; we followed the ship to Maganos in the hope that its owner might lead us to Acorna."

 

She inclined her head gracefully toward Rafik. (Khaari, point out the location of that first planet on these maps.)

 

Khaari took a light-wand and illuminated a star some distance from Maganos and lying well away from the more populous parts of this sector.

 

"I very much fear," Neeva went on, "that it is we who were responsible for your . . . your mother- sib's retreat behind the shield."

 

Rafik looked at the illuminated area, lips set in a grim line. "Without breaking my oath to House Harakamian," he said, "I think I can say that you are very probably correct. And you know," he went on in a slightly more hopeful tone, "perhaps it's not Uncle Hafiz's brains we need so much just now . . . perhaps what we need is the Shield. If such a device could be installed on every inhabited planet, beginning -with those in the direct line of the Khieevi fleet. . ."

 

"But the secret of the Shield," Pal pointed out, "is presently behind the Shield, together with your uncle's invaluably twisty mind. So perhaps our first priority ought to be finding some way to crack the Shield. Surely Hafiz has told you something about how it functions?"

 

"Nothing," Rafik admitted. "I am not sure he even understands it himself. The genius of our House is in finance, not technology. But we always hire the best technicians."

 

"Then the engineer who designed and installed the Shield ..." Pal began.

 

"Martin Dehoney," Rafik said. There was a moment of silence.

 

"Well," Gill said slowly, "he was the best, no question about it!"

 

He was also dead; the design of Maganos Moon Base had been Dehoney's last creation.

 

"Provola Quero worked with Dehoney," Judit said. "Perhaps she might have some ideas. Why don't you two get together and discuss the matter with Mr. Li while we ..."

 

"Oh, no," Rafik said. "I'm going, too."

 

"And we," said Neeva. "Acorna is my sister-child; it is my responsibility to see to her safety. Besides, our ship is faster than any your people could design."

 

Rafik's teeth flashed white under the thin dark line of his mustache. "We'll just see about that!"

 

"As for planetary defense," Mr. Li put in, "House of Li has excellent liquidity, as does House Harakamian. Why not hire mercenaries from Kilumbemba Empire?"   Gill whistled through his teeth. "The Red Bracelets? If anybody can take out the Khieevi, they should be able to." Delszaki Li's personal bodyguard was rumored to have served -with the Red Bracelets at one time, and he had never met any human being tougher or more frightening than Nadhari Kando.

 

"Say," Rafik put in, evidently thinking along the same lines, "Is it true that Nadhari used to--"

 

"She prefers not to discuss her past." "Oh. Well. . . but, Delszaki, it would cost a fortune." "House Harakamian and House Li command two fortunes," Li said calmly. "Also, Kilumbemba mercenaries will work on commission. Percentage of profits in captured alien ships, alien technology could be powerful lure."

 

"And," Gill said slowly, "they're probably bored right now. The Kilumbemba Empire hasn't expanded in several years. The Red Bracelets are expensive to maintain and dangerous when bored, but Kilumbemba daren't release them from their contract for fear of a revolt in one of the new, um, 'acquisitions.' It just might work. Rafik, you and Delszaki are the best negotiators;

 

before "we go anywhere, why don't you see if we can subcontract from Kilumbemba for the best part of their mercenary space fleet?"

 

"And pledge Uncle Hafiz's credit to support them, I suppose," Rafik said with resignation. "Not that I don't think it's money well spent," he hastened to explain, "but Uncle Hafiz is going to kill me when he comes out from behind the Shield."

 

"He wouldn't grudge the credits to save Acorna," Gill pointed out.

 

"No -but what do you bet he'd find a -way to make somebody else pay them?" Rafik grinned and sat down at a corn unit. "After this little maneuver, I had better make tracks for Rushima . . . and I m not sure it would be wise to come back! I don't want Yukata Batsu wearing my ears on his trophy belt!"

 

"Shhh," Gill said in a rumbling attempt at an undertone, "I think that kind of talk upsets our guests." He felt it would definitely be unwise to tell the Linyaari about Yukata Batsu, Hafiz's chief competitor on Laboue, and his unpleasant habit of keeping trophies from his defeated enemies . . . including the ears of Hafiz s own son, Tapha. Hafiz himself had been more upset about Tapha's stupidity in letting himself be captured than about the mutilation, but somehow Gill felt the Linyaari were not used to taking such matters in their stride. They are still not sure we're civiliw) enough to 2eal with, he thought. Maybe we '3 better not let/hem Listen in on the negotiations with the Kilumbemba mercenaries, either. And on the excuse that Rafik and Delszaki Li needed absolute privacy for this ticklish task, he offered to escort the Linyaari on a brief tour of Maganos Moon Base while the necessary wheeling and dealing took place.

 

"That is-if you can be sure nobody will notice your . . . um ... unusual appearance ? " One thing they did not need to deal with was the effect on Maganos of seeing four "Acornas" suddenly appearing in their midst.

 

"We attracted no attention on our way here," Melireenya pointed out. "As long as Thariinye does not lose his temper again, we should have no trouble."

 

"Just keep us away from those blasted kids," Thariinye said.

 

Since the raison d'etre of Maganos was the education and training of the bondchildren liberated from Kezdet, Gill found this directive rather difficult to follow, but with Judit's help he managed to keep the Linyaari occupied for some time in childfree areas of the base. Indeed, Provola Quero alone would have been able to lecture them indefinitely on the design of the base living quarters, mining facilities, and engineering shop; but even the Linyaari thirst for knowledge was eventually satiated by the seemingly endless string of facts and sketches at Provola's disposal, and at last Gill could think of nothing but to bring them back to Delszaki Li's rooms before they became too tired to maintain their shielding projections.

 

He was relieved to deduce that the negotiations had gone well; Delszaki Li was napping in his hever-chair, and Rafik was sprawled on cushions with a look of satisfaction on his thin, dark face and a glass of something that would probably have been forbidden by the First Prophet in his right hand. "All done?" Gill asked cautiously. "All fixed." Rafik tipped the glass to his mouth and took a sip of the amber-colored liquid. "He"-he jerked his head toward the sleeping Delszaki-"is a genius at this. I think he might even be able to teach Uncle Hafiz a thing or two," he said with surprising generosity. "Would you believe he's got Kilumbemba underwriting half the costs of the expedition, because they feel it's to their benefit to keep the mercenaries busy and in training rather than having them at loose ends where they might stir up trouble? Although I'm not sure they realize it yet," he added thoughtfully. "The way Delszaki put it was that we would save Kilumbemba a lot of money by paying half the retaining salaries of the mercenaries for the duration of this expedition. Which means that effectively they are still paying half the costs . . . and then House Li is covering seventy percent of the remainder. I only had to sign over the profits on a couple of planetary systems in Uncle Hafiz's name, he might not even kill me when he finds out what he's paying for, but I don't plan to stick around and check it out. Very generous of Delszaki."

 

Mr. Li's eyelids flickered. Gill suspected the old man was not really asleep, and he wondered just how "generous" Delszaki Li's offer had really been. He would have a controlling interest in the expedition now, and if he was right about the profits to be made from exploiting Khieevi technology, the lion's share of those profits would go to House Li rather than House Harakamian. Insensibly Gill began to feel more confident about the whole project. The Linyaari were so convinced that no one could withstand a Khieevi attack, they'd infected him with their pessimism-but Delszaki Li was no man's fool, and if he was already maneuvering to control profits, he must be counting the war as good as won.

 

"The only problem is," Rafik went on, "I did have to throw in a little extra inducement to Admiral Ikwaskwan."

 

"Admiral?" Gill said sharply. He had heard the notorious leader of the Kilumbemba mercenary forces called many things, but never anything so flattering as that.

 

Rafik waved a languid hand. "It's not exactly a formal military structure. If the man wants to be an Admiral, or a Brigadier, or High Potentate, let him take the title. Thing is, he wanted a share in Rosewater's Revelation."

 

You sold your uncle's best racehorse to Ikwaskwan?"

 

"Only a part share, and it is in a good cause. You think he'll mind?"

 

"I think you'd better head for Rushima and not come back, like you were saying at first," Gill told him. "What have you been drinking to make you think Hafiz is going to be happy about teaming up with a-a-" It wasn't so much that words failed him, as that Judit's presence inhibited him from using any of the words he felt to be appropriate. "With Ikwaskwan," he finished weakly as a familiar smoky scent, wafting through the air, distracted his attention. He took another deep sniff and recognized it. "MY BEST SCOTCH, THAT'S WHAT YOU'VE BEEN INTO!"

 

"I earned it, weasel-wording and sweet-talking Ikwaskwan and half the Kilumbembese Cabinet -while you were playing tour guide," Rafik said without bothering to move out of the way of Gill's furiously working hands. "Judit, call off your husband before he damages these precious vocal cords. Oh, and by the way, we had a spurt-message from the AcaSeckl."

 

"You did?" Gill's hands dropped to his sides. "Oh, all right, I won't kill you until you tell me what was in it."

 

Rafik grinned up at him. "That's not very good motivation."

 

"Very well, then, I'll let you live. This time."

 

"It was a little confusing," Rafik confessed. "Basically it said, 'Disregard previous message, everything all right here, stopping for R&R on Rushima.' I doubt that means they've defeated the entire Khieevi fleet single-handedly; it probably just means they've outwitted those space pirates Rushima was complaining to the Shenjemi Federation about. That should be well within Calum's and Acorna's abilities," Rafik said with sublime confidence.

 

"Did you tell her to get out of there?"

 

"Couldn't. The AcaSecki's not answering; they must all be on Rushima, and Rushima isn't transmitting. I expect the space pirates knocked out their satellite communications. I did send a long spurt telling Acorna about her people showing up here, and that we'd be with her in five days. If anybody picks up on the AcaSeckl, they should get that much."

 

"You didn't tell her about the Khieevi?"

 

"That sort of message is not something you want to leave lying about a ship's com system until somebody is inspired to pick up," Rafik pointed out. "What if the Rushimese hear it? There could be panic, rioting-and Acorna's somewhere on the surface, we don't know where. I thought it better to wait until we can patch through some sort of direct contact."

 

Gill had to admit the logic of this, but knowing for sure that Acorna was on Rushima-and unwarned about the deadly danger approaching-made him more impatient than ever to take off. The hours they would have to wait for the Kilumbemba forces to mobilize dragged like lead.

 

 

 

Haven, Unified Federation Date 33.05.18

 

What do we do now?" Calum asked. "Wait until the dust settles and there's someone we can talk to about leaving?"

 

"I think we better be sure they know it's us who are leaving and not some of the enemies escaping," Acorna said. "I'm going to check on my 'ponies."

 

Calum watched her go. He hoped there was enough there for her to eat. He also hoped that she was going to change out of those rags and into some outfit suitable to the real Acorna.

 

"Anyone else for a bite to eat while we talk this over?"

 

He looked first at Dr. Hoa, who hadn't moved since sinking into a seat. The man's color was better and his expression more alert. "Are you feeling well enough for a meal?"

 

"There's nothing wrong with me a good cup of tea won't set right in next to no time," the scientist said with a little smile. That is, if you should happen to have tea."

 

"In fact, I do," Calum said, making his way to the galley. "Tea for all?"

 

"What's 'tea'?" Market asked.

 

"You can find out after you've cleaned up a bit," Johnny Greene said.

 

"Why should I do that when I might just have to do a flit again'

 

Johnny closed off his nostrils and raised his eyebrows. "In this fresher air, ol' buddy, you stink. So do I, I'm sure, but not quite as badly."

 

Calum, whose back was to Markel, grinned. He hadn't wanted to mention the fact.

 

"If you happened to have any clean clothes, Calum," Johnny went on, "I could sure stand a change myself. Any old ship suit'11 do."

 

"Second cabinet in the first cabin on the right. And there's a sanitary unit directly opposite the bunk."

 

Dr. Hoa was on his second cup of tea and looking far more alert when Acorna came back, wearing more normal attire. Then both Johnny and a far cleaner Markel showed up, although the boy looked a trifle surly.

 

Markel took the cup of tea and some finger foods that Calum had defrosted, and went to the place where he had deposited his equipment. He put in the earphone, and in a few seconds was smiling with great satisfaction, but then he glowered again.

 

"If I hadn't been stuck with you, I'd've been in it, too," he said.

 

"If you hadn't been able to save Acorna, Calum, and Dr. Hoa first, young 'un," Johnny Greene said in firm contradiction, "there wouldn't have been a coup at all. I gather someone had the sense to gas the searchers in the tubes?"

 

For a moment, Markel stared in astonishment at his friend. Then his expression was both smug that he had actually been a crucial element in the rebellion and surprised. "How'd you know how they got them?"

 

Johnny shrugged. "That's what I would have done. Nueva, Dom, Sengrat, and the others would have^ been so intent on wanting to get at least Dr. Hoa back into their hands, they'd've depleted their guard points." He waved to indicate the guards they had overcome. "We'd've been up the crick without a paddle if the full complement of guards had been here in the hangar. Then he grinned at Markel. "Whaddaya bet that Kerratz, Andreziana, and Zanegar led the revolution?"

 

Markel's eyes went wide. "How'dyou know?"

 

He ruffled Market's hair. "You were doing all you could in your fashion, Markie, lad, and your father was one of those spaced. It's only logical that the ones who hurt worst would try hardest to get back at the murderers of their parents. Now, find out if they need to know where Dr. Hoa is hiding. I'd ask for Kerratz. Always thought he was the smartest of 'Zhuria and Ezkerra's brood."

 

"No, Andreziana's the one we want," Market said in his blunt fashion as he found the mouthpiece in his backpack and attached the speaker J-bar. "I need to speak to Andreziana. This is Markel."

 

Johnny Greene and Calum both gestured for Market to patch in the Acadecki's system so they could hear, too. Market shook his head emphatically, but Johnny caught him by one ear and gave him such a malevolent glare that Markel capitulated just in time for them all to hear the contralto voice of Andreziana.

 

"Where the hell have you been, Markel? "

 

"Clearing the decks so you could act, of course," the boy replied, laughing. "Caught 'em all napping, didja?"

 

"No, we caught them hunting in the tubes for you. So we closed 'em off and gave them a dose of their own," the girl replied.

 

"S-spaced?" Markel looked slightly green.

 

"We didn't have a lot of choice," Andreziana said. "They refused to surrender. I wasn't gioing to lose more of our own people going after them in the tunnels, not to mention risking that they'd win a tunnel fight."

 

"No," Markel said. "No, you-you couldn't do that. It's Just..."

 

"I'll say this for those Palomellese," Andreziana interrupted like someone eager to change the subject, "most of them were right with us. Seems that Nueva Fallona and her group weren't that popular with their own people after all."

 

"So, what did you promise the Palomellese to get their coopfiration?" Markel asked, accepting the change of subject.

 

"They'll take a landfall on Rushima and help undo the damage done for the chance to stay on."

 

"Won't we have to go through the Shenjemi Federation for permission for that? At the very least, they'll want to sue the Haven for the havoc caused," Markel said, dubious.

 

With an arm around Markel's shoulders, Johnny positioned himself to speak through the J-bar. "John Greene here, 'Ziana, and congratulations on handling the retaking. That'll all be on log, and I think we can reason with the Shenjemi. We've sent a message about the condition of Rushima, by the way. ..."

 

"You did WHAT?"

 

Her protest even shook Dr. Hoa, making him spill a bit of the tea he had been so happily imbibing. He held up a finger.

 

"We've been down on the surface," Calum said, speaking directly into the com unit of the Aca^ecki, "and promised the survivors that we would get a message to their sponsors. This is Calum Baird, pilot. By the way, do you have wounded?"

 

"Sure we do." The girls voice softened. "Did you think we could manage a bloodless revolution? Why? We've some medics...."

 

"But you do not have a ki-Un," said Acorna, elbowing her way beside Calum.

 

"What the shards is a ki-lin}"

 

At that point. Dr. Hoa angled his way between Acorna and Calum. "Very good, very unusual, useful, miraculous person. Saved me. Saved Markel, saved Calum. Save you pain and healing time."

 

"Who's that?"

 

"Dr. Hoa-and this is the ki-Lln."

 

Acorna took a deep breath. "For what now appear to be very sensible precautions," Acorna said, her voice rippling with amusement, "I disguised myself as a procuress when my ship was captured by Nueva and her gang. I am, however, Acorna Delszaki-Harakamian."

 

If Johnny and Markel were jumping up and down in dismay at Dr. Hoa's revelation, Calum was tearing at his hair over Acorna's admission.

 

"Harakamian?" There was a certain awed tone in 'Ziana s voice. "Of House Harakamian?"

 

"Delszaki?" added a baritone. "Not THE Delszaki Li?"

 

"Yes, to both questions. How may I help you now?"

 

There was a babble in the background, then a new person was speaking.

 

"Look, I'm medical, but we've got some really badly off wounded on the infirmary deck and some people who'll die if we can't clear that gas out of their lungs," the man said.

 

"I'm on my way," Acorna said, and gave a decisive nod at Calum, who was staring hopelessly at her.

 

"C'mon, we'll all go. Lock down your ship, Cal, will you?" Johnny Greene added. "Just in case there are some survivors creeping down to the hangar."

 

With some regret, Calum did as Johnny suggested. He had been thinking of trying to raise regular contact with Delszaki Li's headquarters on Kezdet . . . just to allay any fears Mercy might have for his safety if the original spurt had gotten through .. . but Johnny was right. It was too soon to cry safe and far too soon to omit any possible precaution.

 

Before they reached the end of the hangar deck, there was banging on the hatches that had been locked against Nueva's group.

 

"We're coming, we're coming," Johnny Greene roared, deftly assisting Dr. Hoa up the steep risers.

 

"I am better, much better," Dr. Hoa kept protesting. "And what has been done can often be undone. With my process," he added with a little smile, "we can set much right in little time."

 

"That'll go down well with the Rushimese and the Shenjemi," Johnny said with a wry grin.

 

As soon as Dr. Hoa reached the bridge, 'Ziana, the late Andrezhuria's daughter, greeted him with considerably more warmth than she accorded those accompanying him. One eyebrow went up at the sight of Acorna, but she politely did not comment on Acorna's unusual appearance. Her face composed, Ziana was sitting in the bridge command chair, which dwarfed her slight figure. Her bandaged hands dangled from the armrests, but not far from the festoon of weapons hanging to her lap from the belt she wore. Not much taller than Calum, slender, with fair hair braided tightly in many small strands and tied together at the base other neck, she looked her age, not the pnnGipal in a major coup. She certainly didn't look as if she could have been capable of the deeds she and the other teenagers lounging around the bridge had recently planned and executed.

 

"Dr. Hoa, is there anything you can do to help Rushima?" she asked. Her slightly accented Basic was delivered in the tone of a much older, self-possessed woman.

 

"I do believe I can, Andreziana," he said, as courteous as ever as, with a querying lift of his brows, he nodded toward one of the empty chairs on the port side of the bridge.

 

"Go to it, Doctor," she said, gesturing with one graceful, if bandaged hand. Blood had leaked down her forearm and clotted.

 

Acorna sucked in her breath and looked at Johnny, who gave his head the slightest of negative movements.

 

"Who're the strangers. Market?" 'Ziana went on, steepling her bandaged hands in front of her. It was a gesture, Acorna instinctively felt, that had been one other mother's.

 

"Acorna." Markel might have been introducing a reigning planetary leader for the pride in his voice. One of the teenage boys lounging around the bridge snickered. Markel bristled, relaxing when Acorna touched his shoulder. "You only show how little you know," Markel said.

 

"She's the one can heal?" the lad said snidely. "What does she use? That horn on her head?" His hair had been cut into bristle which was dyed in uncomplementary colors. 'Ziana's gesture silenced him, and he seemed to cave in over his diaphragm at her displeasure. He wore a sloppy bandage on one shoulder: the sear mark of the stun bolt was partly visible.

 

So swiftly that no one could have stopped her, Acorna was beside him, her derided horn performing its miracle.

 

"Hey, whaddya go and do that for?" The boy raised his unharmed arm to push her away, but she had already retreated.

 

"Hey." His tone was completely different. He peeked first at the now healed flesh, then pulled off the rest of the bandage and saw clean, pink skin. "Hey, how'dyou do that?"

 

"However she does it, I'll have some of the same, if you wouldn't mind, Acorna?" 'Ziana said, holding out her bandaged hands. "Can't really use the fingerpads with all this on me."

 

Although Acorna was as delicate as possible in peeling back the wadded fabric, little flickers in 'Ziana's eyes showed how painful the process was. Her hands were so badly burned they were weeping blood and serum. Acorna lowered the horn to each palm, then the girl's torn wrists. Flesh seemed to flower instantly across the wounds.

 

"Let me tell you, that is a relief," 'Ziana said, briefly sounding her chronological age. "There're injured down below who need a lot more help than I do ... did. Thank you. And, you, Brazie, I didn't hear your thank-you."

 

Brazie of the multicolored hair stammered out his gratitude, still fingering the now smooth ex-wound.

 

"You're both welcome. Anyone else?" Acorna asked, looking around at those who occupied the bridge.

 

"Aw, it ain't much," one of those beside Brazie said, but his companions pushed him toward Acorna. Another pulled up the rags left of the back of his shirt and revealed encrusted welts. Acorna had never seen anyone whipped and beaten, but, when she maneuvered the boy into the light to assess his injury, she knew that that was what had been done to him. Calum uttered a low whistle.

 

'Ziana now turned to Johnny Greene and Markel. "I need to talk to you two," she said, once again in that firm, uncontradictable voice. "You were within an ace of getting spaced, Johnny. Did you know? How'dyou know to hide? And where did you hide?"

 

Johnny settled himself in the chair just below her level, and Markel took a seat next to him. "Well, I figured I was running out of Nuevas good graces. She was never sure where I stood with the First-Gen group, since they sort of picked me up because they were short a docking expert. Esposito and I had had a couple of run-ins. . . ."

 

'Ziana chuckled. "So you had. Dom never liked you either."

 

"True, though I had no intention of cutting him out with Nueva. She wasn't my type. But that's all history, 'Ziana. Let's talk about now. You've control of the Haven, but are there enough competent people left after two sets of wholesale slaughter to staff and crew a ship of this complexity?"

 

"My mother didn't raise me stupid, Johnny. Any more than Illart did Markie-boy here." 'Ziana was slightly contemptuous.   "Then you do have someone who can dampen the electromagnetic resonances in the navigation controls," Calum said, pointing to some orange flashing lights on one drive control board.

 

'Ziana swore and swung down off the command chair to take a closer look.

 

"If I could make a recommendation," Calum said at his most tactful, "I think the problem is more drift than immediate danger, and I can do some calculations to see how much thrust you'll need to apply, but this is one panel that should be manned at all times. And the life-support system seems to have been damaged from the look of the signals its giving." He pointed to a board several positions down.

 

"You a pilot or something?"

 

"I've belted around the system for most of my life and never lost a ship," Calum said. "All modern ships use about the same basic controls . . . just some are bigger'n others, like this one."

 

"He's an expert and very experienced pilot," Acorna said. "Approved and recommended by both Delszaki and House Harakamian."

 

"Who's them?" Brazie asked, frowning in suspicion.

 

"Only two of the biggest interstellar firms," another lad said, and came up to Calum, extending one hand in greeting. "I'm Kerratz. My father was ..." and Calum surmised that the father had been one of those spaced, ". . . teaching me his specialty. I've had a little time on the board, so I could take it over-if you'd do the calculations. I •wouldn't want to do them, and be wrong."

 

A girl, heavy-boned and wearing flashily dyed blue-andorange hair, pointed to the life-support board. '"Ponies system suffered a lot of damage when we were trying to weld the access panels shut so they'd all die in the tubes." Those deaths didn't seem to bother her as much as the harm to the plants. "Want I should get a gang together and see what damage is done?"

 

Calum turned politely toward 'Ziana.

 

"Go to it, Neggara," 'Ziana said, waving her off. "You help her, Brazie, Dajar, Foli. You've had a long enough rest now. And Rezar," she added, pivoting on one heel to address a tall, well-built boy cultivating a fine mustache on his handsome face, "you take the com board. This bridge needs to be properly controlled."

 

Then she turned to Johnny with a "how'm I doing?" glance that was challenging.

 

"What's happening on the decks below?" he asked. "There may be some good 'uns among the Palomellese who can spell your folk."

 

'Ziana didn't much like that suggestion from the expression on her face.

 

"Well, you'll be standing long watches, then," Johnny said with an indolent shrug.

 

"You go find some loyal enough to help," 'Ziana said. "I'm not leaving the bridge."

 

"I agree. You shouldn't," Johnny said, "but, ifAcorna's finished here and Calum can hang about with the technical advice, I'll leave our ki-lin at the infirmary on my way down the levels."

 

'Ziana nodded agreement, but, as Acorna walked away toward the door, her eyes spoke volumes of gratitude to the spacer that 'Ziana's pride would never allow her to utter.

 

"You've done well, 'Ziana," Johnny said, then chuckled. "Nueva's mistake was in not spacing the whole kit and kaboodle:

 

First AND Second Generation."

 

"You're damned right there," 'Ziana said as she resettled herself in her command chair, "but she considered us 'kids'!" She snorted as she steepled her fingers.

 

"A mistake for several reasons," Johnny said suavely. "How about communications below? Are they in working order?"

 

"Most of 'em," said Rezar, surveying his board. "Some holes, but call here to the bridge anywhere you can. I'll patch you through." He began running a diagnostic on the system.

 

You okay where you are, Dr. Hoa?" Johnny asked before Joining Acorna by the lift shaft.

 

Oh, go on, go on, I've so much to set right I won't miss you at all," Dr. Hoa said, absently waving a hand over his head in the direction of the speaker, but focusing all his attention on the graphics in front of him. He was tsk-tsking over something as Johnny and Acorna left the bridge.

 

"Surely those children cannot run a ship this size?" Acorna said.

 

"Oh, I dunno about that, Acorna," Johnny said with a grin. "Seems to me I heard that Cal, Gill, and Rafik had you managing a lot of basic controls before you were three years old."

 

"My species evidently matures more quickly than yours," she said.

 

"And those kids who put down Nueva's coup were apprenticed, as a matter of course, to specialists once they turned fourteen."

 

"They can't be much older now," Acorna protested.

 

"On the contrary," Johnny said in a very droll tone, "they are much, much older ... now." With a hand under her elbow, he signaled her to jump to the level they were nearing on the shaft. "If they're beginning to find out how complicated it is to do it all themselves, it'll make my job easier."

 

"Finding someone a little more senior with enough experience to direct them?"

 

"Precisely." He pointed to starboard. "Infirmary's that way."

 

Since she could hear the moans and sobbing, his direction was unnecessary.

 

"I'll come back this way and see how you're doing. Even medics were not safe from Nueva's •wholesale spacing orgy."

 

"Calum?" Rezar asked. "Could you come look at this? I don't know this kind of code."

 

Calum had been overseeing several panels for the appointed novice crew as well as giving Dr. Hoa a hand with the math. ["Never my strong suit, Mr. Baird." "Well, it is mine, and you've merely inverted the matrix that defines nonlinear diffractionprocess interaction too soon-or tried"to; the matrix can't be inverted, so you have to transform it to this form first. See? Now you get the right answer."]

 

"That's beamed at Rushima, which no longer has any corn units. Broadcast on a wide beam so we're catching the edges of it. Use the finer tuner and put it up on screen. No, this toggle.

 

The message immediately began blaring from the bridge speakers until Rezar figured out how to modulate its volume.

 

"This is Blidkoff of Shenjemi Federation calling." Even the tone sounded bored with the words. "Rushima, reply. Urgent. You must respond if you expect any aid."

 

"He sounds real interested," Rezar said sarcastically.

 

Calum glanced up at 'Ziana. "I'd say Rushima needs help from whatever source it can get it."

 

'Ziana regarded him steadily. "But this ship caused the damage.

 

"Ah"-Calum held up one finger-'yes, my initial message to them said Rushima was under attack by the Starfarers."

 

"The real Starfarers"-'Ziana indicated herself-"are once again in control ofHaven. Our ..." she had to swallow before she could continue, "... mothers and fathers believed that peaceful protest "would allow us to use some uninhabited world as a new home, since Esperantza was destroyed."

 

"You have been traveling a long time," Calum said kindly.

 

"The Shenjemi could demand reparations from us. . . ." she said.

 

"Not you . . . and you've logs to prove it," he said, pointing to a ceiling device that was the visual log of all proceedings on the bridge. "I can answer as myself. Shall I? And we can sort the Haven's part out later. We have to give some answer. The Rushimese are in a bad way down there."

 

"We've been in a bad way up here, too, Baird."

 

"Ah, but I can restore much of the normal climatic pattern in just a few days," Dr. Hoa said, "after first inducing some more . . . extraordinary. .. weather to quickly counteract the worst effects of what has been done."

 

"Can you?" 'Ziana looked around at the frail man, who nodded vigorously.

 

"This is Blidkoff, Second Undersecretary ofRUI Affairs, calling Rushima. Can you respond, Rushima? Are you under attack?"

 

Calum moved to the corn unit. "Blidkoff, this is Calum Baird °f the AcaSecki, a private vessel. I sent the message you received. The planet has been under attack, and the first thing to go were Ihe satellite communications."

 

"Baird? Calum Baird? No such name exists on the planetary roster." Blidkoffwas plainly skeptical.

 

"Because I'm not Rushimese," Calum said. "I'll repeat. I am Pilot Calum Baird of the AcaSecki, a private vessel. We had a 'ponies problem and thought Rushima could help us with it. Instead, we had to help them by informing you of the attack. The whole planet's in a bad way. They're going to need a lot of help to get sorted out down there."

 

"View please," Blidkoff answered, his skepticism coming through loud and clear.

 

'Ziana was wagging her arms in protest, but a grinning Rezar made a frame around Calum s face, indicating that he'd broadcast just the face. Calum looked over his shoulder for 'Zlana's permission, and, after a moment with her eyes closed, she nodded.

 

"Oh, sorry, didn't realize the view was off on my end," Calum said. He beamed at the screen for Blidkoff's benefit.

 

"And what exactly did you perceive was a problem with Rushima? Apart from their failure to communicate through normal channels?"

 

Pompous brain^ regoUthic Q'wt, Calum thought to himself, keeping his smile intact. "Storms, floods, and drought."

 

"They must be inventing disaster to get off paying their taxes. That planet was selected for its incredibly boring and stable climate."

 

"It's a large planet, Blidkoff," Calum said, no longer willing to be the victim of the man's incredulity. "And as your first spurt informed you, these disasters were artificially created by their attackers . . . who have now been disposed of, but the settlers are in dire need of basic supplies to help them start over. You do what you want. I promised Joshua Flouse I'd send you a Mayday. I have. Good day to-"

 

"Now, let's not get in a huff, Pilot Baird. Joshua Flouse . . • eff-eel-o-"

 

"U ess ee," Calum finished.

 

"Well, he's a reliable community leader."

 

"I suspect he is. Decent chap, gave us seed and enough vegetation to keep us going, even though they'll be in need themselves. So why don't you go on and keep him going?"

 

"I fear that's beyond my area of command," Blidkoff began. "Rushima's return on investment is insufficient to justify the expense of further Federation assistance."

 

"That's your problem, Blidkoff, and I'm sorry for the Rushimese, but at least I've kept my promise." And Calum himself cut the connection.

 

A buzz interrupted the silence on the bridge.

 

"He wants to talk to you again," Rezar said, looking hopefully up at Calum.

 

Calum looked around at 'Ziana, who seemed in an equal quandary.

 

"You kids got rid of the nasties, but now what?"

 

He could see 'Ziana swallow.

 

"Now we have to carry the can for those Palomellese bastards' mistakes," Rezar said.

 

"That's what being adult is," Calum said gently, feeling sorry for so much shit dumping on these teenagers who, only a few weeks ago, probably had been nice normal kids, fussing because no one would take them seriously.

 

"We should have a meeting about this," Kerratz said.

 

"Yeah, a meeting," Brazie agreed hastily, nodding nervously.

 

"Mother said that, too, that adults ..." and Ziana paused a moment before she rushed, "... are not afraid to accept responsibility. I took that one to heart when we gassed the tubes and spaced the murderers of our parents. I guess it applies here. We'll stay, and we'll make good as much as we can . . . -with Dr. Hoa's help."

 

And then I am taking myself and my weather program out of reach of anyone else," Dr. Hoa said.

 

"I think I may be able to help you there, Dr. Hoa," Calum said. "How much longer do you need?"

 

"Oh, I'm just starting, Mr. Baird. What was done to Rushima cannot be undone as quickly, but we're making progress. Yes, indeed, we are making progress. Now, would you check my Gquations again? I shouldn't like a simple error on my part to undo what I've been able to accomplish so far."

 

"But this is your program, isn't it?" Calum said as he went to the doctor's position.

 

"Oh, it is, but I always had a mathematician assisting me. Meteorology is science, my boy, but mathematics is a black art."

 

"Did you want me to help with the damage reports, 'Ziana? " Johnny, returned from escort duty to Acorna, said so suavely that none of the people on the bridge could take offense. It was obvious none of them had thought of that.

 

With great dignity, 'Ziana nodded in his direction. "Please, would you, Johnny? You've had a lot more experience in that area than we have."

 

"You're learning," he said with his engaging grin.

 

Johnny concentrated on checking out the essential functions of the Haven, and apart from some damage by weapons fire -fortunately only stunners had been used rather than missile handguns ^-the hull had taken no integral damage. The conduits would need further flushing and venting to remove the traces of the gases used . . . and any remaining bodies had to be found and removed. Not the most agreeable of duties, but it needed to be done. When Johnny looked around to see whom Markel could suggest for the task, the lad was gone.

 

Markel, in fact, had gone back to the quarters he had shared with his father to see if any of his things were still there. The rooms had been trashed. He took one look and pressed the lock. He'd find himself somewhere else to stay. He'd also find himself some clean clothes. He'd had enough of these.

 

The main clothing storage was locked, of course, but his little strip of plastic did its trick, and he was in. The place still had a faint trace of the gases that had been used to trap Nueva and her gang, probably the stuff was still trickling from any vents that hadn't been closed. Something would clearly have to be done about it soon. So he made a quick selection of clothing and new ship shoes-Acorna had healed all the cuts and bruises he'd acquired in his adventures, but ship shoes would add to his new dignity. He also picked up a tool belt and a notepad, since his was still on the AcaSecki, with the few personal items he had managed to save when he decided he'd better not be found by Nueva or any of her conspirators.

 

He did wonder that there were so few people in the corridors and halls. Maybe 'Ziana should make a shipwide announcement that Second Gen had complete control of the Haven.

 

Then he shafted over to 'ponies, which was looking very sad indeed, though Neggara and her group were already planting some vats.

 

"I need some stuff for Acorna. She'll be using up a lot of energy healing, you know," he said.

 

Neggara craned her neck around at him. Then she grinned. "Since it's you, and for her, you're welcome to anything that's edible. Though that ain't much."

 

"You've got the big leaves still." Markel pointed to the basic pumpkin, rhubarb, and legume leaves that would indeed be essential to air refreshing. He said nothing at all about Acorna's ability to clean air. But he was pretty sure that was what this ship was operating on right now.

 

Neggara was shaking her head. "Don't understand it. According to the manuals, they aren't enough to do what they have to be doing in terms of restoring clean air to the entire ship."

 

"We got lucky, I guess," Markel said, and picked what he thought would be a useful bouquet of greens and some early legume pods for Acorna.

 

What Neggara didn't know wouldn't hurt her-or Acorna- but, as he left the 'ponies section, he did worry that the Lady would not have enough strength both to heal the wounded AND purify the ship's air. However, he had managed not to smirk with his covert knowledge of who was really responsible for the fact that they weren't all gasping for breath on the Haven.

 

Acorna was just bending over an unconscious Palomellese with serious stun bruising all down his left side when Markel arrived at the sick bay. As Markel approached, he heard her sigh, and knew he'd been right to rustle up some food for her. She seemed to be working her way into the infirmary, for there were already many empty bunks at the front of the room. Medics were buzzing in small groups, watching her surreptitiously.

 

Markel waited just out of Acorna's range until she had finished the current patient.

 

"Gotcha something to help you," Markel said, holding out his bouquet to her just as one of the senior medics started to protest his interference.

 

Acorna held up one hand, then smiled with weary gratitude for his thoughtfulness. She couldn't know it, nor did Markel realize the significance of his altruism, but seeing that Acorna was fed was probably one of the first unselfish things he had ever done. Even in rescuing her, he had been acting out of selfinterest.

 

"And I think you'd better he down when you've eaten ... you look absolutely transparent," Markel said, giving a level and accusing glance at the medic. "I don't see anyone bleeding to death," he added, having made a quick assessment of those still abed. "I'll never hear the end of it from Calum and 'Ziana if you pass out on us, you know."

 

The way Acorna wobbled as she rose was sufficient evidence to the medical staff that this intruder's assessment of her condition was undeniably accurate. The head medic almost leapt forward to assist her, but Markel was closer and took her arm as if by right.

 

"You haven't used up all the private compartments, have you?" Markel asked.

 

This way." The medic ushered her into one of the cubicles. "We're'very grateful, lady, and didn't realize that you..." Markel firmly closed the panel on the apologies.

 

"There's not much selection in 'ponies, right now," he said, placing his gleanings on her lap.

 

"Doesn't matter," she said, stuffing chard into her face and chewing with weary efficiency. "Anything green'11 do fine. There are so many more - "

 

"Who can probably recover just fine in the usual way, Markel cut in firmly. "We need you more to keep the air fresh in this ship with the 'ponies in the condition it's in."

 

Acorna gave a weary sigh, munching on the legumes and the stalks, too.

 

"You can't do everything yourself, you know," he said. "Isn t there anything else you can eat that we'd have on board? Somehow just those ..." His fingers dismissed the limp chard leaves as insignificant.   "Any vegetable ration bars? I cannot live on them for any long stretch of time, but they will keep me from starving through the immediate future."

 

"Thousands," Market said, immensely relieved. "That's what we've had to feed the Palomellese with. I'll be back in a flash."

 

As soon as he exited the compartment, the head medic caught him.

 

"Is she all right? We didn't. ..."

 

"Well, it takes a lot of energy to do what she does, you know," Markel said, trying to make out Acorna was worse off than she was to be sure they wouldn't interrupt her until she'd had some rest. "You don't happen to have any vegetable ration bars up here, do you?"

 

They did and loaded Markel down with as many as he could carry. He took them in to her. She had finished all the fresh greens-if that was what you could call the limp leaves-and gratefully shed the packaging film protecting the first bar. She ate nine before suddenly she seemed to collapse inward and sprawl across the bunk.

 

"Acorna?" Markel reached for her delicate arm, even if he hadn't a clue where he'd find a pulse on it.

 

She clasped his arm, -weakly, but turned her head and smiled at him.

 

"I'll be fine. You stand guard, will you. Market? I'll just need a bit of sleep while I digest that fine meal."

 

Markel could not agree with her notion of a "fine meal" as he spread the light thermal over her and tiptoed out of the compartment.

 

"She's sleeping," he told the head medic, then snagged a fourlegged stool, which he put against the door. He sat, crossed his arms over her chest, and assumed his role as guardian.

 

He was also asleep, head drooping over one shoulder but supported by the door he guarded, when Calum and Johnny came down to find Acorna.

 

"You know," Johnny said thoughtfully, hands on his belt and elbows cocked to the side, as he looked down at his protege, Markel might turn out to be a fine man after all. Though"-he waggled a finger at Calum-"never tell him I said so."

 

1 8 8 ANNE McCAFFREY AND MARGARET BALL

 

"Last thing on my mind," Calum said, making a cross over his heart.

 

So they waited until Acorna emerged from the room, and just managed to catch her guard before he fell into the compartment. His reflexes had him on his feet and in a defensive position against the -wall before he was awake enough to see who was there.

 

"Well, you look a lot better," he said to Acorna in the tone of a worried parent, straightening his tunic and brushing back his hair. "Sleep did you good, didn't it?"

 

If Calum had to turn away and Johnny had to cough to disguise his chuckle, Acorna affectionately smoothed Market's hair.

 

"Yes, it did." She looked past Johnny to see the head medic eagerly approach her. "There's an urgency-"

 

"Well, it will have to wait," Johnny said firmly, taking Acorna by the arm. "The bridge has need of Acorna right now!"

 

In point of fact, it was the 'ponies system which needed Acorna, and she did what she could to clean the air.

 

"How much of that gas was used?" she asked, sneezing.

 

"The kids wanted to be sure," Johnny said at his driest.

 

"We could rig blowers," Calum said, remembering how they had managed to clear air in the early days of Maganos Moon Base. "What sort of equipment is available, Markel?"

 

"Well, we can find out easy enough," Markel said, and turned toward the nearest shaft. "But it'll have to be from the bridge computer."

 

"I'll go back to the infirmary then," Acorna said, starting in that direction, but it was Calum this time who grabbed her.

 

"No. You are going back to sleep," he said firmly. "Your horn is practically transparent, and the rest of you doesn't look much better."

 

"There are still people in need-"

 

"Nothing our own medics can't handle," said Andreziana, who had been calling up reports from the infirmary while they talked. She backed Calum up. "You have done too much, Acorna . . . and we have other problems to solve now that you cannot help with."

 

"What?"   "First, we must repair the damage to the Haven. Then, Dr. Hoa has promised to work on his weather program, to see if there is some way he can control it so as to correct the damage done by our ship and his science to Rushima ... if they will accept the offer." Andreziana's emotional and physical exhaustion made her look, briefly, much older than her chronological age. "Whether by use of Dr. Hoa's technical expertise, or by the work of our own hands, we must make what reparations we can to the settlers of Rushima. That is our problem, not yours."

 

"The Shenjemi Federation . . ."

 

"Have realized that the situation is critical, yes," Johnny Greene said, "and help is on its way. But 'Ziana is right. The First-Gen Starfarers were men and -women of honor who would have done everything possible to repair the damage caused by use of their ship. I'm proud to see these kids following in the tradition."

 

With this assurance, Acorna felt justified in taking a few extra hours for rest. Hours turned into several days, as she fell into a deep healing sleep from which she awakened at intervals only long enough to consume immense quantities of the most mineral-rich greens the Haven could provide. "I wish I could get her dirtside," Calum fretted. "Rushima's a mess, but she needs to run, and breathe air that hasn't been recycled, and eat something that didn't grow in a vat."

 

"I think that can be arranged," Markel told him. Calum had been watching over Acorna too obsessively to pay much attention to the repair work on the Haven or the ongoing discussions with the Rushimese. "Hoa's ready to work his weather magic now, but we're going to need to temporarily resettle the Rushimese from the worst flooded area while he arranges a few minor cataclysms to fix things up."

 

"Good idea," Calum approved absently. "Now, Acorna-"

 

"Is going to have to be with our resettlement party," Markel said. "Otherwise, they won't go anywhere with us. Acorna's the only one they trust. In fact, we were hoping that you and she would be willing to use the Aca<)ecki to ferry settlers-because they have a pronounced, if justifiable, aversion to any of our landing craft."

 

"Sounds good to me," Calum said. "Soon as she's really awake, we'll get started."

 

Acorna was clearly healing herself in these periods of deep sleep, restoring the energies depleted by her efforts on behalf of the Starfarers and their wounded ship, and he had no intention of interrupting that process. He returned to watching over her obsessively, feeling more relieved than anything else that their friends on Maganos did not know to transmit queries to the Haven. After sending a "Disregard previous message, everything's all right," from the AcaSecki immediately after they were sure the countercoup had succeeded, he'd shut down \heAca<)ecki and joined in the work of rebuilding the Haven. He did not particularly want to communicate with Maganos again until he could assure them Acorna was perfectly well. Call him a coward, but there were some things he'd rather not tell Gill and Rafik, much less Delszaki Li and Uncle Hafiz. This-an Acorna too worn-out to stay awake-was definitely one of those things.

 

Laboue, Unified Federation Date 53^. 05.22

 

afiz had never been so long out of communication with his various colleagues and interstellar financiers. No amount of pacing up and down his underground refuge would ease his churning mind.

 

"There is really NO point at all in such ferretlike isolation. There hasn't been a single explosion registered on the equipment. There haven't been any landings anywhere. Am I a slave, to live in prison, or a woman, to dwell in purdah?"

 

His pacing had brought him back once again to that portion of the garden where the Skarness Stones were located. Although his establishment was completely underground, and shielded by formidable appliances, he could actually stand just beneath the position of the Stones.

 

He clapped his hands to summon a human servant. "Bring me a thin rod, of metal, not silver nor gold, but base metal, of two arm-spans' length. No, misbegotten -whelp of a djinni's basest lusts, how should I know where such a thing is to be found? Inquire of the steward, and do not trouble me with such matters." Once the rod had been located, he demanded a ladder. Now position it... no, never mind. Guard the door to this corridor, and let no one enter until I give permission. I shall be ... at my devotions." No need for any to observe the procedure which he had invented for communicating with the Stones from this underground refuge; and if they wondered what sort of devotions required this equipment, why, let them wonder!

 

The manual labor of placing a stepladder was beneath his dignity, but by great good fortune he hit the D Stone with his first try. Then, placing his forehead and both hands on the rod, he tapped out his urgent query.

 

"Has Laboue been invaded?"

 

There was no immediate answer. He hadn't expected a prompt reply-but he expected some reaction. Besides, it was undignified for a man of his eminence and prestige to remain in this semisubservient posture, even if he had taken care not to be observed. Also, the metal rod was beginning to wear a groove into his forehead. He daren't relax either his grip or the contact with the rod because he had to catch the rhythm of whatever message the Skarness Stones had for him.

 

"Clear sky."

 

Hafiz thanked them and stood upright, dropping the rod with a clang as he alternately rubbed the ridges on his hands and forehead. Then he wondered just what that cryptic message did mean. "Clear skies" because the weather was fair; "clear skies" because these monsters had landed; or "clear skies" because whatever had been headed toward Laboue had gone around the planet?

 

He convinced himself the last interpretation was the most likely, since no detection equipment known to mankind could have pierced the shell currently protecting the inmates-and there was no truer definition of those who resided on, or under, Laboue right now. So it had to be safe. The Stones would not have lied to him. They didn't know how.

 

Hafiz did get in touch with Quiabriel as protocol required.

 

"I'm going above, Quiabriel. I mustbe in touch with my people, to reassure them. I will report on the condition of the surface once I have ascertained if any damage has been done. But I must surface."

 

"If you must, you must," Quiabriel replied in a grudging tone. "However, do not respond if there is any change in the surface at all. And a thorough scan, please."

 

"Has not the Second Prophet admonished us, 'Do what thou shalt do, but do all in order and as fitting My children'?" Hafiz replied genially, while vowing that some day Quiabriel would pay for the tone of voice he had just used to the Head of House Harakamian.

 

The process of unshielding and rising took time. Hafiz had the ladder placed in one of the upper rooms, at the tallest window near the ceiling so that he could countermand the action if he found reason to do so.

 

He saw no danger, as his dwelling made a stately ascent into the fresh, clear air of Laboue. All around, of course, -where other gardens should be, and other dwellings hidden within them, there was blank and featureless space. For the Shielding provided Laboue with a sterile desert surface in some places or rampant, impenetrable jungle vistas which clearly said to any observer that this planet wasn't worth further inspection.

 

Clambering down the ladder while his extensive household was still climbing up out of its basement retreat, Hafiz made his way to his office and reactivated his contact with the receivers implanted in one of Laboue's little moons.

 

Messages came flooding in to his receiver. Those from Rafik went from queries to near-hysterical demands for reply. Some of the later ones from his associates also ranged from moderate concern to the hysteria that characterized Rafik's.

 

"It's nice to know that I've been missed," Hafiz said, until he realized that he had also missed out on a fine coup and a large profit. He got more and more upset as he began to tote up just how much money the isolation had cost him in terms of deals unanswered and missed opportunities. When he got his hands around the necks of those . . . those . . . what had they called themselves? . . . Linyaari, he would show them not to deceive the Head of House Harakamian with such dramatic hoaxes.

 

Yelling for his servants to ready his spacecraft and telling his chief steward to report to Quiabriel, Hafiz almost ran to the hangar in his anxiety to be airborne and back in the midst of the world from which he had temporarily excluded himself. He must show himself in person at the trading centers of his personal empire, and at once. Who knew how long it would take him to repair the damage done? Who knew what negotiating it would take to prove that the Head of House Harakamian was not a coward, diving underground at the first sign of danger? What had made him panic so badly at those obviously manufactured scenes shown by the Linyaari?

 

He was already demanding a nav plan for Twi Osiam when he calmed down enough to wonder, again, whether the scenes broadcast to Laboue might not have been real and not a hoax. After all, the people who had broadcast their warning were Acorna's folk. He'd never known her to lie ... but of course, his beloved nephew had raised the girl so she would value truth. A pity, that. . . with better training, she might have been most useful to him in the business dealings of House Harakamian. But she was so incurably candid that he suspected her species could not be other than straightforward. And why would they have shown their own species being tortured if there were not some substance to their outrageous claim that this part of the galaxy was in danger? That those .. . those .. . barbaric savages were on the loose in the immediate vicinity?

 

He sent a lucid message to Rafik on the Uhuru, mentioning that he was again in circulation and asking what Rafik had been able to save of their current deals without his authorization, which, in some cases, Rafik still must present to seal a contract.

 

He got back the signal, which meant the Uhuru was recording the message. Now where was Rafik? If not on board his ship, he had better be doing business for House Harakamian. He received back the somewhat reassuring report that the Uhuru was currently docked at Maganos.

 

What but a threat to Acorna could have taken Rafik from his assigned business deals to Maganos? And should she not be apprised of the arrival of others like her? Worry and concern and a kindly desire to give Acorna this news in person inspired Hafiz to do something he had not considered in all his adult life: he put aside his business plans for a purely personal trip to Maganos Moon Base.

 

"At least the time of travel need not be a total loss," Hafiz told himself. Some at least of his complex business dealings could be rescued by long-distance communication, and he spent the time of the journey doing just that. He was requesting landing permission from Maganos Moon Base when a final message in the long line he had been receiving was from Rafik.

 

"Uncle, having no way of communicating with you, I have asked Delsaki Li to make arrangements on Acorna's behalf. I trust they will meet with your approval. I will report as soon as we reach Rushima."

 

"Rushima? Grushima?" Hafiz was totally outraged. He'd never heard of the place and tapped in a request'for information, trying to control his temper. After all, he had authorized Rafik to operate on his own, finely tuned instincts. . . . "An agri planet?" he bellowed when the information came up. "Sponsored by the Shenjemi?"

 

Hafiz's dealings with the Shenjemi Federation had not been all that remunerative, and Hafiz made his value judgments on profits made. He'd had few enough from the Federation.

 

"Why has Rafik gone off to Rushima anyway? It almost sounds as if he is following Acorna. What possessed the girl to take off just when her people appear in our space? Provola had better know exactly what's happening, or I may have to wait until Rafik s firstborn son shows what promise he might have," Hafiz said to the ship in general and no one, certainly not his crew, in particular.

 

When his ship docked at Maganos Moon Base Hafiz went straight to Delszaki Li's private offices, only to find them deserted. Not even the secretary who usually guarded the inner sanctum was at his post. As a consequence, Hafiz had no way of finding out that Mr. Li had briefly collapsed after the strain of the past few days and had been ordered to bed in Maganos s small hospital facility. The secretary who should have been receiving visitors and directing inquiries was instead hovering outside the closed doors of the hospital unit, waiting to hear of the recovery of an old man he had come to love like . . . well, not a father . . . more like a great-grandfather.

 

To be fair, Li had no reason to expect any need for his services; since the triumph of the Child Liberation League had obviated the need for secrecy, Mr. Li had more and more left the day-to-day management of his financial and business affairs in  the hands of trusted subordinates. Furthermore, when he visited Maganos he considered himself "on holiday" and expected- and received-no visitors except those in his immediate circle of beloved friends-the three miners, the Kendoro siblings, and, of course, Acorna-all of whom were gone now. Not expecting Hafiz to lower the shield, let alone journey to Maganos, none of them had thought to leave him any explanations for their sudden departure. And the secretary, who, like most of the rest of Maganos, was not privy to the tale brought by the Linyaari envoys, had little to offer when Hafiz finally located him.

 

"Acorna and Calum left first, in the AcaSeckl- " Hafiz began. "You know about that?" The secretary was stunned. "I should," Hafiz said, "she's my ship. Continue, please." "Well. Everybody was worried about that. The ship wasn't fitted up properly, you see. ..." The secretary started off in some detail about the remodeling and improved defense plans for the Acadecki, which he did know something about, until Hafiz interrupted and very politely suggested that the man go on with his story about what had happened to cause a mass desertion of Maganos and Delszaki Li's collapse.

 

"Well, um, they arrested this . . . person," the secretary went on doubtfully, and wondered why his own tongue seemed to be fighting him. Of course it had been a person, a young man, he'd seen him, what else would you call him? But something else was diverting his attention from the story. . . .

 

"It's hard to talk with my collar twisted so tightly," the secretary said, "if you could ..."

 

"A thousand apologies." Hafiz released his grip on the mans tunic, but not the steely-eyed glare that somehow brought to mind much worse things than simple assault... archaic words like bastinado and strappado floated through the secretary's jangling brain. Once released, he told Hafiz everything he could; unfortunately, that wasn't enough to allow any reconstruction of what had been going on in Li's private rooms. Other ... "people" .. . had come... • For some reason, he had a hard time describing them or even remembering their appearance; all he knew for sure was that they were good people who meant no harm, and there was nothing unusual about them.

 

"And how," Hafiz inquired silkily, "do you 'know' all that?"

 

The secretary shook his head. "I just know. ..."

 

Judit, Gill, and Pal had all gathered with Mr. Li to speak with them, and so had Rafik when he arrived. They kept the door closed, and the secretary couldn't hear anything except when somebody went in or out. Once he heard the new visitors speaking in a language that he couldn't identify.

 

"I didn't get it," the man said. "They had their own ship; they looked rich; doesn't everybody speak Galactic by now? I can't imagine where they could have come from."

 

"Who cares?" Hafiz snapped. "Go on."

 

There wasn't much left to tell. The strangers had left in their splendid ship; Judit, Gill, Pal, and Rafik had all left in the Uhuru;

 

Delszaki Li had been so fatigued that despite frequent short naps while the talking went on, he had collapsed immediately after their departure and had been resting in the high-security medical unit ever since.

 

"They won't let anyone in to see him," the secretary said. "They just keep saying he's resting comfortably and doing as well as can be expected and all the usual blather." He looked at Hafiz with some hope. "The doctor might let you in."

 

But the Harakamian will met its match in a youngish, tired doctor whose first medical experience had been as a volunteer to patch up bruised and broken children on the day of the Liberation, and who revered Delszaki Li as a near saint.

 

"He's been heavily medicated and will remain so until I am satisfied that his physical condition has stabilized," the doctor snapped, "and until then, nobody disturbs him!"

 

"If you've got him doped to the eyeballs," Hafiz tactlessly translated the medicalese, "I don't suppose it would do me much good to look at his sleeping body."

 

Consumed with curiosity, he decided to pass the time until Li awoke or a message came from the Uhuru by finding out what had been done since his last visit to complete the mining facilities. A sudden thought struck him as he turned to make his way to the engineering offices. "Ah ~ Provola didn't take off for the back end of beyond also, did she?"

 

Reassured that Provola Quero was in her office as usual Hafiz made his way there after leaving instructions that any news was to be forwarded at once to Provola's office, the suite which was kept for him in Maganos's living quarters, and any other place he might conceivably be found.

 

The door to Provola's office was open, and from some distance Hafiz could hear a tearful voice pleading with Provola Quero and that woman's calm, cool, responses, obviously unmoved by the petition. As he entered, his eyes were taken by the unexpected sight of a generous womanly figure in lavender, nicely set off by white trim, and enhanced by a number of glittering crystals of various colors which quivered enticingly from the fine silver chains which draped the woman's voluptuous body. She would have made two of wiry little Provola Quero, with her ascetically cropped head and single tight braid-and in Hafiz's estimation, a true woman like this was worth ten of an engineerfemale like Provola.

 

"My dear Mr. Harakamian," Provola said with more warmth than Hafiz had ever heard in the woman's voice before. She was not his type, and not even feminine in her appearance, but she was an excellent manager. She turned to the female. "I must ask you to leave now."

 

"But where can I leave TO?" was the tearful reply, plump white hands with beringed fingers wide open in appeal. "I only had enough credit to get here to help darling Acorna. ..."

 

"And why, my dear ..." Hafiz paused to allow for an introduction.

 

"Karma ..." both women said at once.

 

Hafiz could not resist seizing the delightfully plump white hand now extended in supplication to him. And he kissed and stroked it while with his other hand he gestured to Provola that he would handle this.

 

As he guided Karina out of Provola's inner office, he could hear her sigh of relief.

 

"My dear Karina, why did you think that Acorna needed help?" Hafiz said, gesturing around at the well-appointed waiting room and the busy corridor outside.

 

"But she does," Karina insisted, and then his name dropped into the proper slot in her retentive memory, "dear Mr. Harakamian."

 

"Let us discuss this matter in the privacy of my quarters," Hafiz said at his most persuasive and in his silkiest tone. He hadn't seen a woman of these delicious proportions in so long. Nowadays the emphasis was on trim, slim, svelte, bony feminine figures, and he'd about given up the hope of finding one that would be so enticing to him. It was an added attraction that she seemed to know something about Acorna's present situation.

 

Karina's eyes widened. "You have rooms here . . . on Manganos'

 

"I have many personal and business connections with the House of Li," Hafiz explained, leading her toward Living Quarters A. "A suite of rooms is kept constantly maintained and at my disposal... or is supposed to be." He finished with a scowl as he placed his palm on the reader beside the door to his suite and the door slowly irised open to reveal rooms that had clearly quite recently suffered from the recent invasion of a careless bachelor. Datacubes and vids littered the floor, never having been put back in their individual cases; a natty suit in lime green and fuchsia lay crumpled at the entrance to the shower cube; and a half-empty glass making rings on the polished Tanqque purpleheart wood of the nearest table testified by its smell that the recent occupant of these rooms had taken to heart the Second Prophet's relaxation of the restrictions on spirituous liquors.

 

"My heir," Hafiz growled. "Soon to be my ex-heir if he does not mend his ways'." He activated the wall console and requested a thorough cleaning for the suite, then suggested to Karma that they should repair to one of the small dining rooms off the main cafeteria instead. "And when Rafik comes back," he said, "if he comes back, I shall enroll him in the Personal Hygiene and Cleanliness classes taught to the children ofMaganos, for clearly he is in sore need of basic instruction!" The thought of tall, dignified Rafik cramped into a child's desk and lectured on the need to clean his teeth properly tickled Hafiz's fancy and dispelled most of his anger.

 

Karina dispelled the rest of it by asking how he could possibly be annoyed with such a fine, brave, handsome man as Rafik and vowing that she had recognized him instantly from his resemblance to Rafik. If she had in fact done so, it would have been a remarkable feat of imagination, since Hafiz was six inches shorter and thirty pounds heavier than Rafik, and his creased face, now consciously amiable, bore a strong resemblance to that of a crocodile hoping that some day another fat, brown child would tumble down the bank. However, to Karina, hungry and stranded for days on a strange planet without credit, Hafiz looked truly beautiful as he led her to a small dining room where he requested a tray of cream pastries and his special blend of kava.

 

"Now, dear Karina, do tell me how it happens that a friend of Acorna's should have been left in this sad plight," Hafiz invited her, "and what you would like me to do to the villains who abandoned you so."

 

"Oh," Karina said, "they are not villains, they are Enlightened Beings, and I am almost sure they did not mean to leave me in desperate straits, only they were in a hurry, and, of course, I had not told them I had no credits left. How could I? You do see, don't you?"

 

"Of course," Hafiz agreed urbanely, although totally con- fused.

 

"They have beautiful auras, you know," Karina rambled on, "as of course you'd expect of Acorna's race - "

 

"The Linyaari are here?" Hafiz interrupted her. Although he had put aside both his current business dealings and the tempting thought of making an exclusive trade agreement with the first sapient aliens to contact human civilization in order to look after Acorna, now that he was actually at Maganos and nobody seemed to be panicking on Acorna's behalf, he could not help thinking how lucrative such an arrangement might be ... and that he, as one of Acorna's two guardians, should by rights have first pickings. He had not reckoned on her other guardian somehow magicking the Linyaari to his residence first.

 

"Well, not anymore. They went after- "

 

"Ten thousand Shaitans! I should have known that crafty old dog of an unbeliever would get ahead of me!" Hafiz drummed his fingers on the tabletop, temporarily oblivious to Karina. "But perhaps Rafik has protected my interests. Yes, that must be what he meant by 'arrangements.'" The downward creases on his face lifted slightly. "In that case, I may well forgive the boy after all. Karina, my dear lady, I must speak with Delszaki Li's secretary again at once; can you ever forgive me?"

 

Karina's eyes darkened with a sorrow that was not entirely due to the fact that she had not quite finished the last of the pastries. "But we've only just met!"

 

"And I look forward to many delightful hours improving our acquaintance," Hafiz assured her. "And although my business is pressing, I refuse to leave unless you promise me that you will take proper care of yourself and eventually retire to my suite to rest. You must eat to keep up your strength and to maintain your exquisite beauty." He called for a portable console and left orders for Karina to be able to request anything she desired at the charge of House Harakamian.

 

That should be safe enough, he thought cynically; there was nothing to buy on Maganos Moon Base except food and the simplest of basic necessities. Later he would give himself the pleasure of ordering new garments from Kezdet for this generously endowed beauty, a project that would absolutely require him to acquaint himself with her exact dimensions, and later . . . who knew what might not follow? Best not to alarm her; he would not want such a treasure of voluptuous womanhood to take flight while he was occupied in business talks.

 

His first order of business was to extract from the secretary the terms of any trade agreements that had already been filed. With any luck there had not been time to put anything on disk. Opportunity abounded when a man was prepared to take advantage of it. Then, if Li was still not available, he could while away the hours of waiting by courting his lovely Karina. It seemed his trip to Maganos would be profitable in more ways than he could have ever predicted.

 

 

Haven, Unified Federation Date 534.05.25

 

It was nearly six days before Acorna started staying awake for more than a few minutes at a time, but then she returned to normal within a few hours of her last awakening.

 

"You mean those poor people have been waiting all this time only for me?" she exclaimed, horrified. "Calum, why did you not go on without me?"

 

"I," Calum said, "do not possess a sweet voice, a pretty face, or a magical horn. The mere fact that I was around and helped to repair their corn system doesn't seem to be enough to make me Trustworthy. It's you or nobody."

 

"Then you should have wakened me sooner!"

 

Markel and Calum looked at each other and tried not to laugh.

 

"We should ve taken vids," Markel said. "Acorna, you have been awake, off and on-vertical, anyway. Just long enough to use the facilities and devastate our chard and spinach beds. Then you'd stagger off without saying a word and go back to sleep."

 

Acorna shook her head. "I cannot believe it."

 

"Next time we will take vids!"

 

"There won't be a next time," Calum said. "I'm not letting Acorna -wear herself out to that extent ever again."

 

The Rushimese required that the AcaSeckl land first with only Acorna and Calum on board; they did not trust vids of Acorna speaking to them from the Haven.

 

"I just hope that you'11 be able to convince them that the kids really want to make reparations for the devastation caused during Nueva's coup," Calum said wearily as they landed. "If they won't let us use the Haven's shuttlecraft as well as the Acai)ecki to ferry settlers from the flooded area to high ground, we'll be here for weeks before Dr. Hoa can start work on drying out this settlement."

 

"I will try to persuade them," Acorna said, "but it may take time. ..."

 

Calum chuckled weakly. "And to think we thought we were saving time by skipping out of Maganos before the repairs were complete! If we'd waited until the 'ponies were fixed, we wouldn't have been caught up in this mess, we might have been well on our way to searching the Coma Berenices quadrant by now. . . . Well, my mother always told me, 'Haste makes waste,' but I was always in too much of a hurry to listen to her."

 

"It rs not a waste if we are able to help people desperately in need," Acorna said, but her lovely eyes clouded over at this reminder of how much time the stopover at Rushima had cost them. "Someday we will find my people . . . and you know, Calum, if we had waited for Pal and Mr. Li to agree that the AcaSecki was ready, we would still be on Maganos!"

 

Calum had to agree with that. Still, he hoped that the Rushimese got over their suspicions of the Haven quickly. The longer he was away from Mercy, the more he missed her . . . and since he had promised himself to see Acorna safely with her own people before he was free to be with Mercy, it was a kind of torture to be delayed and delayed here, where they had barely begun their quest.

 

"The settlers are arriving," Acorna said. "Let me see what I can do to get them organized, and you can try to raise Maganos. She gave him an understanding smile. "Mercy, I mean, all our friends, will want to know what we are doing."

 

Calum found that he did not particularly like being "understood." One of the many things he liked about Mercy was that even if she could guess what he was thinking, she never told him so!

 

Oh, well, soon enough they would be on their way out to the Coma Berenices quadrant, and he could apply himself to nice straightforward problems of astrogation instead of the most chaotic, unpredictable problems of all. . . people.

 

Still, this might well be his last chance to communicate with Mercy in private; it was thoughtful of Acorna to give him the opportunity. For the first time in days, Calum activated the Aca()ecki's com unit.

 

Before Calum could enter his request, though, the com unit gave forth the nerve-wracking squeal that signaled an incoming spurt-message. He sighed and waited the interminable seconds while the spurt codes chattered across the screen, then watched a blurry image gradually become clearer and clearer as the Aca^ecki's computer expanded the compressed message. As the face on the screen became recognizable, Calum sat upright and tensed.

 

What was Rafik doing in this sector, close enough to send compressed visuals? Had their first message from the Haven gotten through after all, sending Rafik on a wild-goose chase to rescue them? He'd never live that down. . . .

 

Rafik's first intelligible words, once the entire spurt was expanded, proved this was not the case; the call for help had not in fact been received, but the "all clear" message had. And Rafik was coming on a completely different errand. Calum listened with growing surprise, replayed the message not once but twice to make sure he had understood it correctly, then set the corn receivers on "automatic." He had to find Acorna at once!

 

They had set the AcaSecki down in the muddy lake where they'd first landed, thinking that a logical place to start the restoration of Rushima would be with Joshua Flouse and the settlers who already knew Calum and Acorna. Once these waterlogged hectares had been dried out and restored to productivity, the Rushimese would be more likely to trust the good intentions of the Second-Generation kids who now controlled the Haven. But Dr. Hoa had warned that the process of draining and drying the area through weather modification was likely to be brutal; even with Calum's mathematical help, they could neither predict nor control effects with the accuracy desirable when working over populated communities.

 

Calum was rather disconcerted when he came out to find the landing area deserted, while Acorna stood fetlock-deep in the clarified water, absentmindedly picking up and tasting small floating strands of filamentous algae. "Hey, where'd everybody go?"

 

"They are building rafts," Acorna informed him, "to ferry their possessions across the pond. There was some discussion of asking us to set down in a drier spot, but they could not agree on one; every little hill that is not actually underwater is too full of livestock and refugees."

 

"Oh. Well, their choice, I guess," Calum said, "as long as they don't take too long about it. ..." With Rafik's amazing news to impart, he couldn't really get too interested in the settlers' logistical problems. "Anyway, I've got something to tell you. Acorna, we don't need to go on in the Aca<)ecki. There'll be no need to test my program to find your home."

 

The jubilant note in Calum's voice startled Acorna. "What are you talking about?" She had never seen Calum like this before. His eyes blazed, and his fair hair stuck up in an untidy quiff along the top of his head.

 

"I've heard from the Uhuru. Rafik is coming here." "Rafik?" She felt slow and stupid, unable to think clearly. Something very important was about to happen, or had happened; she couldn't tell which. It wasn't about Rafik, though; so she focused on the details to slow down the important thing, which she was not ready to hear. "But he was not on Maganos or Laboue. How did he know we were here?"

 

"He was on Maganos -when our message got through. And you'll never guess why!"

 

Acorna thought she did not want to guess. "Does he know everything is all right now? " she asked. Calum had sent another message as soon as they knew the situation on board the Haven, but perhaps Rafik had taken off for Rushima before that spurt came through. Why else would he be coming?

 

"I guess so." Calum scrubbed one hand over his head; the short yellow hair flattened like hay under a great wind, then sprang up again, quivering with excitement. "I mean, he must; I gather only the second message got through. The first one must have been killed when I shut down so fast. But there's other news. Acorna, he's not coming alone. Like I just said, we don't need to go on with the search for your home."

 

It had been the first thing he'd said, and she had known at once what it must mean. She had been holding the meaning away from her, bracing herself against it, trying to keep him from saying it with all her questions about Rafik. But it could be delayed no longer.

 

"They have found us," she said, slowly, and regretted it the next instant. Half the bright exultation drained from Calum's face.

 

"Yes-I wanted to tell you. How did you know?" "I guessed. Why else would he stop here?" Acorna felt as if she were feeling her way with bare hooves across a shaking quagmire, treacherous ground that might dissolve under her at any moment. "So . . . they are coming for me?" Calum confirmed her guess. "With Rafik?" "They have their own ship, of course. They think it is faster;

 

Rafik is not so sure, but he wanted to be sure you had the news before they reached Rushima. He thought it might be too great a shock if you saw them without warning."

 

"That was . . . considerate of him." Shock? What was that? This numbness through which she moved, half-disembodied, half-sinking under feelings she did not recognize-was that shock? She felt as if she had been poisoned; her limbs tingled, and her eyes could not take in the light that had been there a moment ago. If she had really been poisoned, though, she would be able to heal herself. And this moving darkness was not something she could heal with a touch other horn.

 

"Acorna?" Calum sounded far away. "Acorna! Are you all right? I thought you'd be happy!"   "Of course I'm happy," she said with an effort. She forced a smile to her lips. "My people. My dream come true. How could I be anything else but happy, dear Calum?"

 

"Well, that's what I thought," he said, still sounding doubtful, "but for a moment you looked almost ill. Are you coming down with something, do you think? But you shouldn't . . . you don't get sick."

 

"No more I do," she agreed, with another smile. "I think I was a little dizzy for a moment. It was quite a shock, you know." She thought of the disappointment that Calum must have been loyally concealing. Such a good friend ... he and Gill and Rafik had always been so good to her, the only family she had ever known. He had wanted to discover her home himself, not have the location handed to him. The least she could do now was play up to him.

 

"And, Calum, now we will not have to wait months to find out whether your deductions were correct. My . . . people will surely be able to tell us the exact location from which they came. Won't it be interesting to find out whether it matches the destination we chose on the basis of your program?" He could still have the satisfaction of being proved accurate ... if he had been correct.

 

Calum grinned. "You're right! We don't need a construction proof; we'll have an existence one! And another thing-"

 

"Calum, you know I don't speak mathematics," Acorna said in warning.

 

"Not about my program. About your people! Rafik says they are telepathic, isn't that wonderful? And they have a very high code of ethics; it took them quite a time to decide whether we were worthy to know them." Calum blithely condensed what Rafik had already abbreviated, the Linyaari discussion over whether humans were linyarii or khievii. "Oh, by the way, they call themselves Linyaari, although I expect it just means something like 'People' in their language. Their technology is way beyond ours in some respects-apparently they've got some kind of automatic language-learning system. The ones who are coming already speak Basic, so you'11 be able to talk to them right away, isn't that great? And best of all, Acorna, one of them is your aunt!" Calum beamed as if he were giving her a wonderful present.

 

"Talk to them?" Acorna said faintly.

 

"Yes, right away. Although now I think of it, you probably won't need to use Basic. If they're telepathic, you must be, too. You'll just be able to merge minds with them."

 

"That's . . . wonderful."

 

Calum looked suddenly uncertain. "Your own people, a family of your own . . . Acorna, don't quite forget us, will you? Gill and Rafik and me?"

 

Acorna stood up, pleased to find that her legs would, after all, support her. Standing, she was now taller than this one of her three foster parents.

 

"Calum, I will never forget you. You three are my family, and nothing can change that," she said firmly. "But I ... I need to think. Do you mind if I go out for a run now? I can think better in the fresh air."

 

"All right, but be careful, won't you? All that heavy weather's done some funny things to the terrain. You don't want to go spraining an ankle or getting your mane snagged in a wire fence," Calum warned, exactly like any overanxious parent who can't quite grasp that his or her child is grown-up.

 

The fetlock-deep water slowed Acorna and forced her to lift her feet high as she set off at a steady pace for the distant horizon. She had to stay constantly aware of minor changes in the underlying ground which she could not see through the mud her running stirred up. She was grateful for the difficulties of running; they were a welcome distraction from her thoughts.

 

All too soon, however, she reached the edge of the lake bed and was running upward over a gentle slope covered with soggy wet grass that squelched underfoot but required no particular attention from a runner. The oversweet smell of rotting vegetation came up to her nostrils with each breath; the land was waterlogged, water-poisoned. But under the cover of soggy, rotten dead grass there might be living roots and the promise of new life in a gentler season. Was there a similar promise for her, of life ^ an environment that was truly hers? Or was she a misfit, neither of the Linyaari nor of the race that had fostered her? As  Acorna's pace evened out she found unwelcome thoughts and fears once again plaguing her. Her people . . . did that mean Calum and Rafik and Gill were no longer hers? Calum had asked her not to forget them, but was the truth not more likely to be that they would soon forget her?

 

What had she ever been to them but a burden and a complication? They'd lost mining time to raise her from infancy, lost their jobs to protect her from Amalgamated's unethical scientists, and then had been thoroughly entangled in her crusade to rid Kezdet of child labor ... a cause they might sympathize with, but would surely never have undertaken but for her. Even now their lives were being distorted around hers. Did Gill really want to be a foster parent to the children relocated on Maganos, or did he secretly long for the freedom of asteroid mining? Did Rafik resent being called away from House Harakamian business? Was he only coming to Rushima because his sense of duty required him to be present when Acorna met her own people? And as for Calum-would he ever have undertaken the long and risky voyage they'd planned if he had not felt it his own duty to restore Acorna to her home? Certainly he had not seemed all that disappointed to learn the voyage and search were no longer necessary.

 

As she breasted the hill and began loping down into the long valley before her, Acorna decided that the three ex-miners would probably be only too happy to hand her over to "her people" and know their responsibility to her -was ended.

 

And what other? She was supposed to be ecstatically happy at being reunited -with her own race. Wasn't that -what this whole voyage had been about? Now Acorna faced the fact that she had never really imagined an end to the voyage. The planet Calum had targeted as her probable home lay so far away that the prospect of reaching it had never been quite real to her. Now, without the expected months of waiting and preparation, suddenly she was supposed to rejoice at being thrown into the arms of these strangers. They might look like her, but what else would there be to link them? "Linyaari," she whispered to the wind, trying out the unfamiliar word. "Linyarrri? Liiinyar?"

 

The word evoked no recognition in her, any more than the syllables of her native language that Gill and Rafik insisted she had pronounced when they first met her. "Awi," she'd said aloud then. "Lalli." They were nonsense syllables to her now, nothing more.

 

Calum was occupied with figuring the rate of thrust required to take off the mass soon to be inserted into the spaceship when Acorna got back to the AcaSeckl, tired and sweaty from her long run. She used most of their fresh water in frantic showering, afraid the approaching Linyaari would be disgusted by the sight of a hot, sweaty, barbarian relative, then purified the water and let it trickle back into the tank. Wrapped in a dark green towel, nervous over the coming meeting and what it might mean to her, she considered the meager wardrobe choices available to her. She hadn't been thinking of clothes when they made their getaway from Maganos. The only important thing then had been to begin the search and escape from well-meaning attempts to delay. Now, as she surveyed the available choices with mounting dismay, perhaps sublimating her fear over what the next few hours might hold, clothing assumed an importance it had never before had for her.

 

All she had brought were plain ship's coveralls and an assortment of gaudy disguises such as the one she had donned while pretending to be a Didi. All the disguises were frothy and elaborate, to match the large, lavishly decorated hats she used to cover her horn; they were not to Acorna's taste at all. She would not meet her newfound relatives in something she considered vulgar and garish-but would they be insulted if she wore only her everyday ships coveralls? What would such highly civilized beings wear? Did they dress for dinner, like the characters in historical vids? Maybe they were clothed in shimmering force fields of light and would think anything she donned quaint and provincial. . . .

 

Calum was aroused from his brown study by a tall, slender, agitated female wearing nothing but yards of green towel, a silyer mane, and a sprinkling of water droplets. "Calum, this is impossible!" she declared. "I don't even know when they will be here or what they wear! What if they don't like me? What if they think I look barbarian and provincial? What if ... and I can't even talk to them," she exclaimed, flinging up her arms. "I don't remember-" The towel slipped, and she made a hasty grab for the top edge just in time to avert disaster. "I don't remember any words of their language. My language. They're telepathic. I'm not, so -what if I'm some kind of a mental defective by their standards? You said they had trouble deciding whether human beings were worthy of an alliance with their race, and look what they had to study-Gill, Judit, Rafik, Mr. Li ... if they aren't good enough for the Linyaari, how will I ever measure up?" Her eyes were silver lines in dark pools of distress, and she was beginning to make the whinnying sound that was as close as she ever came to sobbing aloud.

 

"Hold on a minute, girl," Calum said, "you're not being rational here."

 

"Oh, yes, I am!" Acorna contradicted him. "I am being quite rational; I have thought this whole thing out very carefully, and Calum, this-is-not-going-to-work! I cannot meet them, don't you see?" She whirled away from him, silver hair flying through the air, and he thought that not all the moisture on her face had come from her recent shower. He wished to God Judit were here, she'd know how to calm Acorna down. Or Gill. Or even Rafik! Why did it have to be him who was stuck with the task? A man didn't specialize in mathematics because he had a rare talent for human relationships. All Calum had was reason and logic, and he made one more attempt to apply it.

 

"Acorna, how do you know you're not telepathic? If it only works between members of your race, and you've never been around any others - "

 

"I just know," she interrupted him. She had thrown a second towel over her head and shoulders and was rubbing vigorously as if to dry off her hair; her voice was muffled by layers of fuzzy fabric. "I'd have felt something before now if I were a telepath. I shouldn't be surprised if they exposed me at birth. You know the ancient Greeks used to do that with defective offspring, or even superfluous girls-I am certainly superfluous to them, don't you think? What would they want with some barbarian who can't even speak their language? Only, being such a high-tech race, naturally they wouldn't just leave me on a mountaintop. A space capsule must be a much better means of disposal, don't you see? After all, the mountain thing wasn't totally reliable-look at Oedipus."

 

"Who's he?" Calum was completely out of his depth now.

 

"Really, Calum," Acorna said in tones of freezing superiority from the depths of her covering towels, "don't you read anything? He was exposed because of a prophecy that he would murder his father, only a shepherd took him in and raised him, and then one day he met his real father at a crossroads and they got in a fight and of course Oedipus didn't know who he was, so he killed him, and then . . . well, after then he behaved most improperly, all through not knowing anything about his origins, and I think eventually he blinded himself. So you see why I can't meet them."

 

"I see you're talking a lot of nonsense," Calum said. "I never met this Oedipus chap, and what's more I don't want to, because he sounds quite loopy to me. You're not loopy, and you're not going to kill anybody, and the Linyaari want you. They've come one hell of a long way for you, so I most seriously doubt that they sent you off in an escape pod to begin with. It'll have been some kind of accident, that's all, and no doubt they'll explain it all when they get to Rushima."

 

Acorna had dropped the towel that covered her head and was nodding silently. Under the illusion that he had calmed her fears, Calum made the mistake of adding, "Now why don't you just get dressed; pick out some pretty thing; you want to look nice when your people get here."

 

"You don't understaaaand," Acorna wailed, and was off again, hiccuping and whinnying. Calum patted her shoulder and prayed to the Gods of Balanced Equations that Gill, Judit, Rafik, somebody who understood females would reach them before the Linyaari showed up and wanted to know why he'd been upsetting their foundling. But to his great relief, she calmed herself quickly enough and was once again-at least on the surface-the quiet, sweet-tempered girl he had raised. It was the arrival of Joshua Flouse with the first rafts that restored her to normal. On hearing the splashing approach of the settlers, Acorna quickly dashed cold water over her face and slipped into her coveralls. "I am sorry," she said. "I have been foolish, and -we have work to do. Calum, do you not need to go to the Haven and collect that working party? "

 

"Might as well take the first load of settlers to high ground, then go on to the Haven from there," Calum decided. "But they'll have to leave their goods here for now, except for what each one can carry; when I get the kids dirtside, they can do the heavy lifting.

 

That decision, announced by Calum, caused a furor, which only Acorna could calm. As she waded through the lake, speaking quietly to each group of settlers with their raftload of treasured personal possessions, the cries of outrage died down and the Rushimese farmers grudgingly poled their rafts back to the soggy "shore." Once there, Joshua Flouse displayed the talent for leadership that had made him spokesman for this settlement, quickly separating each pile of personal goods into those that were too fragile to be left and those that might reasonably survive Hoa's weather modifications if carefully stored in an outbuilding.

 

Even with this division, and with Calum s requirement that each refugee carry his own possessions, he and Acorna wound up doing far more than their share of physical labor. Children and old people and invalids had to be helped into the Aca()ecki., and the helpers could not carry anything else. Calum personally stowed a tea set brought at great expense from the Shenjemi home, piece by fragile piece, and then cursed himself for wasting time with such trinkets when he saw Acorna wading through muddy water with twin infants clinging to her neck and caressing her horn. By the time the Acadeckl was filled with refugees, Calum and Acorna and the able-bodied men and women of the settlement, who'd chosen to see their weakest members to safety first, were all exhausted and dripping with mud and sweat. But the labor seemed to have been good for Acorna; or perhaps it was the twitters and coos of the babies who were entranced by her horn and silvery mane that had restored the shine to her eyes.   The settlers' hard-won calm almost disintegrated, though, when Calum told Acorna to board the Accuiecki, that they could take no more passengers on this trip.

 

"How do we know you'11 be back?" cried a burly man who'd all but exhausted himself helping weaker settlers board the ship.

 

"You're not going with my babies, and me not with them!" a young mother exclaimed fiercely.

 

The imminent danger of a riot was averted when Acorna stepped out of the ship before Calum could stop her.

 

"I will stay with you," she said in her clear, sweet voice, and the uneasy group subsided at once.

 

"Well, if she stays...."

 

"You're a dammed fool, Kass," somebody said to the burly man who'd begun the protest. "Oughta know there's no funny business when the likes other is involved."

 

"'Ow'd I s'posed to know that?" the unlucky Kass protested. "Never seen nothm' like her before, did I?"

 

"Just gotta look at her . . . besides, she cleared the water for us, didn't she?"

 

Acorna gently urged the people away from the base of the ship and waved at Calum. "Go on," she urged him. "Everything will be all right."