---

CHAPTER 1 – A Ticklish Situation

The White House, Washington DC, 9^th August, 2102, 9.45 am.

“WHAT?”

“The Zarduthi children have taken their ship back,” Space Station Commander Melville repeated.

World President Sanchez drew in a deep breath. It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected this – knowing how desperate Ayar Dekkutz was to find his father – he just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

“What’s more, several humans have gone with them, most willingly, one apparently not.”

“Who?”

“Hardy Brencher –”

“My security chief for that project!”

“Dekkutz made a particular representation on his behalf. He said it hadn’t been Brencher’s intention to leave with them – he boarded to talk them out of it,” Melville added. “But they didn’t know he was there, and the ship left the station before he could disembark.”

“All right. This is what we’ll do. I’ll send out a pursuit force. I need that ship back here for when these Voth-things arrive.”

“But the other ships are only half-ready, and you won’t catch them with anything else!”

“The drive is installed and has been tested in three ships,” Sanchez retorted. “They only need prettying up. I’ll get crews up there double-quick – all you need do is give the fleet clearance to leave.”

*

Control room, the Bekel, same day, 6.30 am, ship’s time/date: 415.252.3.98.543 AD.

“You OK?”

Ayar nodded.

Eddie cast him a wide-eyed look as if he didn’t believe him, and went back to his work.

Ayar remembered that Eddie’s reunion with Juli had been difficult, to say the least. Eddie had confided in him that Juli and he had struggled to learn to trust each other again after the problems with JSEP. And his daughter Lucy still hadn’t accepted that Eddie was her father.

He cast a glance around the control room. The pilot’s headset half-obscured Davan’s head, while her brother Miril worked the commgrid. Eddie was on the engineering console, Jafar Ashraf was nav/com op. This morning, Halka Mozada and Rel Kahikor were science op and weapons op respectively. Ayar had used Robert’s expertise with plants and had him re-establish the neglected hydroponics section a deck down, along with a team of four helpers with an interest in such things, and Elukor Kodas was in charge of environment monitoring.

Ayar’s mouth tightened as he opened the ship’s logs. Four years ago he’d observed his mother’s death in the ship’s log – but the memory and pain of it were as fresh as yesterday. So he skipped the gulf that represented the years that had passed while the ship drifted into the solar system, gone into orbit around Titan, and then arrived at Earth. Likewise the visuals of the defence of the ship against the Voth. He leapfrogged the records back to two days before that. He needed information from it, and would have to go back to the verbal contract logged with all the other records.

He gave a voice command. In the simtank a pale-skinned, robed humanoid spoke into the microphone Eren Gharm’s partner Laleen held out. Ayar could only see her sleeve and hand, though Eren flanked the robed man, as slim and wiry as all their breed, figure boyish despite maturity. Ayar wondered at the alienness of his appearance. Have I lived among humans for so long? He glanced down himself. He still wore the JSEP uniform he’d trained so long and hard to earn. I’d better do something about that, since I’m no longer entitled to wear it, he thought.

He turned his attention back to the tank and switched on his translator, and the gibberish the humanoid spoke soon resolved into words he understood. “I, Garavash of the Declaini, speaking for and on behalf of my people, hereby offer contract with the Zarduthi clan Bekel, of the clanship Bekel, that they will deliver our world from the invasion of the Voth.”

Then Eren spoke into the recorder. “I, Eren Gharm of clan Bekel, of the clanship Bekel, hereby accept the offer of contract from Garavash of the Declaini, to rid their world of the invading Voth, howsoever long it may take.”

Ayar passed a hand across his forehead and expelled a deep sigh. That’s a stiff contract, to be sure. And it means that my friends and I, in the absence of our parents, are bound to complete it.

But it didn’t tell him why his parents were missing, or whether they were still on Declain. He waited to see what else the simtank would reveal.

Eren spoke the co-ordinates of Declain aloud. The simtank went dark.

Ayar turned to Jafar. “We’re headed in the right direction, but I’ll transfer the exact co-ordinates into the nav for you.”

Eddie nodded his approval. “What about – what you saw? Will you make the others watch that?” he asked.

“How can I do that to them?” Ayar shook his head. “No, I can’t hurt them like that – unless they ask to see it. Why don’t we save the data somewhere on the system where no-one can stumble over it – password protected, perhaps? I don’t want to see it again, though the others might. We could substitute your edited version for the original.”

“That’s a wise and compassionate decision.” Eddie put a hand on Ayar’s shoulder. “You’re the eldest and the strongest of all of them, psychologically.” He let his voice trail off, then added, “But if you found it hard to cope with it – well, some of the others are very young, and could be vulnerable.”

“I know. At least I can tell my father for sure what happened to my mother. When I find him.”

“And you will,” Eddie murmured.

“Yes –”

The door slid open to reveal Hardy. He stood with his hand poised as if to knock, eyebrows creased into a frown.

“You’re up and about again, then, Hardy?”

He nodded. “Edith found something to help with the nausea,” he said. “Ayar – are you busy?”

Ayar saw the direction of Hardy’s gaze and nodded. “We’ll go to the meeting room,” he said. “Eddie, can you manage here without me for a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Eddie said, “but I thought –” he stabbed a finger in Hardy’s direction, “he was a hostage.”

“No.” Ayar made his voice as mild as possible. “I’ll be back shortly.” He cast a glance at the time on his console. One of his first jobs when he’d started working with Eddie had been to modify the shipboard clock on all the instrumentation onboard to show both the ship’s time and local Earth time. He turned to Hardy. “This way.”

In the adjacent meeting room he turned to Hardy. “Well?”

“I’ve been thinking. I’m here with you, and I think I know what you’re going to do. I may as well throw in my lot with you, since it occurred to me that I have certain – skills – that might benefit you and the others. After all, instinct isn’t everything. And it is my job to protect you.”

“True,” Ayar agreed. “And I’ve seen those skills in action and would welcome you spreading them around on board, since we’re so few that everyone has to count for more than one person when we get to Declain.”

“Just my thoughts,” Hardy agreed. “But in return I’d find one of those translators pretty useful – especially when we get there.”

“It would have to be reprogrammed with English as the base language,” Ayar said, “but that sounds like a good idea, too.” He paused and thought, then added, “You realise there’s a direct interface between the processor and your vocal cords and ear? It’s complex surgery and there’ll be some scarring.”

“I guessed that, but it’s not important.” Hardy fingered the semi-circular scar under his left eye. “I already have a quite visible scar.”

“I always wondered how you got that –”

“Bottle in the face in a fight. Not in a bar, in case you were wondering!”

Ayar grinned as he nodded. “The shape gives it away… Regarding the translator, there’s always the risk that in close combat it could be torn out and irrevocably damage your vocal cords.”

“I thought as much,” Hardy said, “but the benefits outweigh the risks. Anyway, you Zarduthi obviously think it’s a risk worth taking. Could Edith fit one?”

“I doubt it – it’s done by robot,” Ayar said. He sank onto a chair as he thought it through. “When a Zarduthi child has learned to speak is the time for the translator to be fitted. But Edith did a good job on the foodsynth machines, so she could probably recalibrate the robot for human – and adult – configurations.”

“Thanks.” Some of the tension left Hardy’s face. “I might as well help you now I’m here, even though it wasn’t my original intention.”

“All right. I’ll make the arrangements with Edith. In the meantime, talk to Chan – she’s in charge of combat training. Arrange between you what each can offer and set up a crash training programme that everyone can take part in. Including me. And Eddie. Even Mil and Lucy – in fact, especially them.”

“Fine.” Hardy looked down at his stained clothing. “Uh – one last thing –”

Ayar guessed what he was going to say. “If you go to room 434 you’ll find all the clothing and gear you could want. I’ll take you there on the way back – four doors left along this corridor. Help yourself to whatever clothes, toiletries and weapons you need. And Hardy –”

He turned to face Ayar.

“I’ll welcome your help,” Ayar added in a softer tone. “I know what you’re capable of. C’mon, let’s go get you some stuff.”

“Thanks. I hate to impose on your time, Ayar.”

“You’re not. But I need to show you the code, since I don’t suppose you can read Zarduthi – yet.”

*

Room 434, a few minutes later.

Hardy followed Ayar down the corridor and stopped beside him at the entrance to room 434. To him, the ideogram that denoted its number looked as unintelligible as that on any other door in the corridor.

Ayar pointed to the keycode-style lock. “This works the same way as your Earth version,” he said. “Just key in the code numbers – but because you can’t read Zarduthi – yet – you’ll need to memorise the shape of the sequence, rather than a number code.” He showed Hardy the pattern. The door slid open.

Hardy stared around the room. Everything was arranged on racks: jackets and jerkins of fur, or of leather with fur trims; leather, suede or fabric trousers; soft fabric or leather-like undershirts; and boots in every size and colour imaginable. And on a separate rack, spacesuits, all white.

“The sizes start on the left and become larger to the right, but each piece of clothing has in-built dimensional instability, so it can stretch or shrink, within limits, to fit a range of sizes,” Ayar added. “You’ll need to take a spacesuit too – they also adapt their size to the wearer.”

“I guess you’d call them ‘smartsuits’, then,” Hardy said, with a grin.

Ayar looked amused too. “The shuttles have a few onboard for unusual eventualities, but you’ll need to keep yours where you can access it if necessary. Maybe in the armoury? And there are all the toiletries you might need over here –” he indicated a cupboard. “Though we use steam showers rather than water ones.”

“As I discovered yesterday. But I’m literally speechless – this is like Aladdin’s Cave,” Hardy said. “Does Eddie know about this?”

“I did show him when I worked here in my vacations,” Ayar said, “but he wasn’t allowed to short the door out that time! Incidentally, we Zarduthi haven’t got a word for ‘vacation’ – it isn’t a concept we understand. The nearest translation means something like ‘down-time’ or ‘off-duty time’, or ‘shore leave’.” He smiled. “I thought it was hilarious that I had a vacation for once, but had to spend most of it working!”

Hardy grinned again. “Sorry, Ayar – though I guess it is kind of funny!”

*

Control room, the Bekel, twenty thousandths later.

Ayar returned to his quarters and changed into his Zarduthi clothing. He took his time on his way back to the control room, certain Eddie wouldn’t like what had just happened, and equally sure that was why Hardy had asked to speak to him in private.

He was right.

“Are you crazy? He’s probably working for the other side!”

“What other side? JSEP? I don’t think so, somehow. Hardy and I have a good relationship. He saved my life, remember? And I stayed at his apartment when I wasn’t on Galatea or at college or JSEP Academy. I know him fairly well, and I get on with him. I know you don’t, and I understand why, but can you not put that aside while we’re out here? I suspect we’ll need all the help we can get, and Hardy’s an undoubted expert at what he does – just as you are at what you do.”

“Well, I don’t like it. We could end up dead meat if he starts playing mind games.”

“And we could end up dead meat without his help,” Ayar retorted. “He’s a crack shot, for one thing, and if he can teach my friends that, he’s already made himself useful a thousand times over.”

He didn’t add that he thought Hardy might want to impress someone other than either him or Eddie.

*

Three hundredths later.

“You don’t need to see it, Miril. Your mother wasn’t involved.”

“I know,” Miril said, “but I need to know where those weird dreams I get come from.”

Ayar regarded him for a few thousandths. Finally he said, “You’re not even as old as I was when we entered the Long Sleep. If I let you watch that I wouldn’t be protecting you properly, and would have failed in my duty to safeguard the future of the clan.”

“You’re not Clan Leader – my father is.”

“But he’s not here right now, so I stand in his stead.” Ayar gestured with his hands. “I went crazy when I saw it – Eddie and Hardy will tell you. They had to sedate me for two days.” He shivered. “I wasn’t ready to deal with it. I don’t want you to go through that.”

“I suppose you’re going to make me go back into the Long Sleep when we get to Declain.”

“I should.”

“I won’t. I’ve already lost a quarter of my life in there.”

“We all have, Miril, and I understand your reluctance to enter the Long Sleep again. But you’ll be safer in the Sleep Room, and I’d fail in my duty –”

“But you came to see me, and messaged me to ask me to come with you, just a few days ago! And you know I’m only thirteen.”

“I know,” Ayar admitted with a deep sigh. “And the truth is, I asked you to come with me because I knew I’d need everyone I could get – including the humans.” He thought for a couple of thousandths. “But I’ll make a deal with you. Work hard at your weapons and close combat training and I’ll include you in the landing party.”

Miril opened his hands at waist level and spread them, palms up, in the gesture of acceptance. Then he added, “Ayar, are you going to put Lucy into the Long Sleep? She’s younger than I am.”

“Again, I should.” Ayar turned his head away. “The Long Sleep saved all of us from being devoured alive like my baby sibling and some of the shirolli. Edith is modifying a sleepcase for her right now.”

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

“Her parents want her to,” Ayar said. “I won’t bandy words with you, Miril.”

“Why don’t you call me Mil like everyone else does?”

“I remember you as Miril. It’s hard to change now.” Ayar sighed deeply again. “I want to do the best thing by everyone, but each of us has different needs and wants, and I have to balance all of them against the demands of our mission.”

“Then listen to them,” Eddie said in a gruff voice. “You can’t always meet their needs, but sometimes you can. Mil needs to find out about his past – we talked earlier. He can barely remember his life on the ship.”

“That’s right,” Miril said, “and that’s why it’s hard to do things in a Zarduthi way now. I need to find out who I really am.”

Ayar nodded and leaned back to let his console chair enfold him, and rubbed a finger over his lower lip and chin. “Eddie, did you finish the edited version?”

“Of course. He could watch that, couldn’t he?”

“Yes.” Ayar met Miril’s gaze. “But I’m not so sure it will tell you what you want to know. You can watch it after your shift, in your quarters.”

“Thanks, Ayar,” Miril said. “And Eddie, thank you for thinking to make the edited version.”

“No problem.” Eddie came to stand beside Ayar. “You think this is hard?” he asked in an undertone, eyes fixed on him. “Wait till you find the rest of the clan – you’ll just be one of the youngest soldiers then, Ayar, instead of stand-in Clan Leader. Taking orders where once you gave them is a difficult thing to do, as well.”

Ayar gave him a nod. “I know. But right now, there’s only me to do the job. So can you organise a meeting at Sixth with Hardy Brencher and Change Dar, in my meeting room? We need to discuss weapons handling and close combat skills.”

*

Chan’s Dojo, Room 190, the Bekel, 10^th August 2102, 4.30 pm.

“Fall like this.” Chan allowed muscle memory to take over as she launched herself backwards. “Slap the mat as you hit the floor, to let the ground absorb some of the energy of your fall.” She bounced upright again. “Now try it, one by one.”

Kaj went first. She could see, from the gusto with which he copied her movements, that he’d made a good recovery from his illness. “That’s excellent, Kaj!” She turned to Lucy, watching from the wall. Although Eddie hadn’t been keen for Lucy to accompany Kaj, Juli had insisted once they’d decided to reconcile. “Are you going to try, Lucy? I’ve had children younger than you in my class before, and I’ll be happy for you to join in.”

Lucy shook her head. “Can I just watch this time? I want to see what you do.”

“OK, just watch for now, then you’ll know what to do next time.” She turned her attention to Juli. “How about you?”

Juli nodded and stepped forwards. “I haven’t done anything like this before,” she said. She sounded nervous. Nevertheless, she made a good attempt at the fall, and Chan said so.

“Who’s next?”

Josie stepped forwards and attempted to copy her, but she was nervous and fell awkwardly. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” she muttered, as she got up and rubbed her shoulder.

“Anyone can learn it,” Chan told her. “You’ll be fine. Watch me again.” And she repeated the fall so Josie could see it close up. “You’re on the mats, so you won’t hurt yourself. Try again now.”

Josie did better this time.

“Well done, Josie – I knew you could do it!” Chan turned her attention to Edith. She was also unused to such intense physical activity. “Like this, Edith.” She demonstrated it again.

“Thank you, Chan, you are extremely patient,” Edith said.

“Of course. That’s why I’m a good instructor and will get you there in the end. It doesn’t come naturally to everyone, but everyone can learn,” Chan smiled. “Why not practise together to encourage each other? I’ll work my way round everyone, so I’ll see how you get on.”

And she moved on to the next in line, Samal Guma, who’d been fostered in Ethiopia.

Ayar had insisted she keep each group to twelve and give them an hour at a time so everyone would get their fair share of teaching time. It made sense to her. In the shooting gallery next door, Hardy’s classes were half the length and size of hers, for safety reasons. They’d discussed their training brief with Ayar the previous day and put together an intensive daily timetable for everyone, with less time allowed for those with JSEP training, who just needed to adapt to the Zarduthi weapons. But while JSEP staff training included self-defence, civilians didn’t get that input, and needed more time and intensive practice.

Chan watched the rest of them practise their falls, then checked on Josie and Edith’s progress. She was encouraged by what she saw, and congratulated them. Then she called everyone together. This time Lucy came over to listen as well.

 “I’m used to competition work, though that’s not what we’ll do in the field. But it won’t hurt to have some rules to work to while we practice.” And she gave a short explanation about tournaments; she liked to break up sessions with explanations to keep her learners’ attention and let them get their breath back. “Now we’ll try our first throw.” For a moment she was back in Mr. Nagoya’s dojo. Then the ship’s whiteness reasserted itself and brought her back to the present. “Samal, help me demonstrate this throw.”

He stood up, with a smile.

He probably expects to best me with the advantage of JSEP training. But I just want to show how the throw works, Chan thought. “We’ll start with a simple throw called taiotoshi.”

A thousandth later Samal blinked up at her from the mat.

“All right. That’s the first of two throws we’ll learn today. Now remember: you can’t use these techniques on Voth – anyway, you don’t want to get near enough to them – but you can use them on any humanoid, and it’s unlikely that they’d expect them. So you have the advantage. And they won’t know how to fall, so you have another advantage. All right, everyone, work with a partner and I’ll talk you through this.”

*

The Mess, the Bekel, 11^th August, 7.15 am/Third.

“Juli?”

“Hi Ayar, what do you need?” Juli Harkness asked.

“I don’t need anything,” Ayar said, “but I wanted to make sure you’re OK with Lucy being in the dormitory with Mil and the older girls. I know it’s not the human way.”

“No, it’s not, but we’re not on a human ship. We’re on yours and need to adapt.” Juli drew a deep breath. “Though I’d be worried if there were a lot of human kids in there, I admit.”

“I knew it!” Ayar said. “So I’m going to tell you something that should make you feel a bit happier. Walk with me.” He led her out of the Mess and into the corridor. “I get that human children can make up games about sex as part of the learning process, but Zarduthi kids don’t tend to do things like that. It’s one of the ways in which we’re a bit different from you. We don’t go through puberty till a bit later, so Lucy should be fine in the dorm.”

Juli looked relieved at that. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Mil’s a good lad, and I didn’t want you worrying about her, and with her being in there it gives her a bit of independence and the chance to socialise with slightly older females, and it should also give you a chance to re-establish your relationship with Eddie.” He paused and met her gaze. “He’s my friend, Juli, and I know he’s been struggling with Kaj and Lucy’s resentment against him for everything that happened. I wanted to give you two time together to rebuild your relationship, without the kind of aggravation Kaj gave Eddie before we came aboard. I know it’ll take time. But they’ll come round to it when they see how happy you and Eddie are.” They strolled on further down the main corridor, towards the Sleep Room.

“I haven’t seen Kaj today – where is he?”

“Working in the engineering section, or at his martial arts or weapons training session. Do you need to speak to him?”

Juli sighed. “No, but his attitude has really hurt Eddie’s feelings, especially as he has so much influence over Lucy –”

“I know.” Ayar laid his hand on Juli’s arm. “Give them both time. They’ll come round. And although he’s not behaving in a very mature way at present, I think he’ll come round and be sensible in time.”

“I know he feels guilty that he mentioned the foodsynth machines to Eddie. But a lot of good came out of it, for instance when there was the earthquake in New Zealand last year and they were able to keep the survivors fed with the food from the machines. I certainly don’t think he should feel guilty about it!”

“No, he needn’t.” Ayar thought hard for a couple of thousandths, then added, “I could have a word with him, if you like. After all, I shared the technology for the ship and our weapons, and I don’t feel guilty about that – I did it to benefit all of us, and they were going to take them anyway. But I hoped it would help the humans deal with the Voth, when they arrive on Earth.”

“Thanks, Ayar. I appreciate your concern.” Juli paused. “How long will it take us to get to Declain?”

Ayar explained why they used the ion drive inside a solar system. “It’ll be about ten days all told, with a hyperspace jump in the middle. You’ll just experience that as a couple of far-away percussions – we’re in and out of hyperspace in an instant.”

Just then, Juli heard a sound like a waterfall and checked her phone. “I have an alarm set up for each of my training sessions today, so I don’t forget them. That’s the two-minute warning. It’s weapons training first.” She grimaced. “I don’t want to be late. It’s that Hardy guy who had me locked up.”

“He was just doing his job, Juli. When you get to know him better you’ll see that. And you couldn’t learn from a better marksman.”

“I must admit, he didn’t treat me differently from anyone else in the class yesterday.”

“He wouldn’t. It’s just that he loves his job and takes it very seriously. I stayed at his apartment after he rescued me in Moscow and while I was at college, and I know him – and how he operates – pretty well.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Ayar smiled. “We get on well together, and I respect his judgement and his weapons skills. He’s a survivor. Trust him. You’ll learn so much from him.” Ayar paused. “Did you want Lucy to go into the Sleep Room when we get to Declain? Edith thinks she can modify a sleepcase for Lucy.”

“I’d go for that, but I’ll check what Eddie thinks.” Juli’s phone alarm sounded. “That’s the signal for my weapons training session. I’ll have to go. Thanks, Ayar.”

*

Control room, later.

“You’re off-duty now, Miril,” Ayar murmured behind him. “I’ve sent a link to that edited version to your terminal in the dormitory.”

“Thanks.” Mil headed out of the control room when Rel relieved him on the comms console. He returned to the dormitory, accessed the recording on his terminal, and settled down on his bunk to watch.

As the Voth boarded the Bekel in the logthey fascinatedand repulsed Mil. “My dream,” he murmured, remembering Jack, whose skin had peeled off to reveal a Voth underneath it. Now the meaning of that dream was so close he could almost reach out and touch it.

He saw the agonised expression of the woman from Clan Kazid as her suit umbilical broke free from the airlock. He saw the Voth “give birth”, and Eddie’s edited highlights of the battle between the shirolli and the Voth.

At least my mother wasn’t one of the shirolli, he reflected. They were very brave. He watched on, but at the end he knew he’d have to give himself more time to think about it. There’s something I just don’t get…

At the end he got up off his bunk and returned to the control room.

“Well?” Ayar asked. “Did you find out what you wanted to know?”

Mil nodded. “Enough to know that I need to find my parents as urgently as anyone else,” he said. “Thanks, Ayar.” As he thought of Steph and Chas, Ron’s image intruded between them.

He wandered down to the Mess, where he met Josie. “I just came in for a drink,” he said, helping himself to tea.

“I’ll join you. I’ve just had a judo session with Chan.” Josie sounded uncertain. “I don’t know how I’ll get on with fighting – I’d prefer not to have to.”

“I’m on that later,” Mil said. “I’ve got firearms training first.”

“With Hardy? I have that this afternoon, too.”

Mil nodded. “He’s not such a bad person. I don’t think any of us liked him at the Big Place, but now I’m older I can see that he does try to help us. He rescued Ayar.”

“I know.” Josie’s voice sounded strangely hollow.

Mil cast a quizzical glance at her, then gulped down his tea. “I think I’ll get a shower,” he said. “See you later, Josie.”

“See you later,” she echoed.

Mil wandered back to the dormitory to pick up his toiletries and towel. Steph had packed for him as soon as Ayar’s message arrived.

He crossed to the shower and opened the door. On one side, the wall was blank except for an intercom. On the other, a row of cubicles faced him, but when he peered inside one, many nozzles set into the wall from floor to ceiling faced him instead of a hose and handset. He stared at it for a moment, then shrugged, stripped off his clothes and stepped inside. There was a button on the wall, so he pressed it.

Instead of water jets, steam whooshed out at him. The heat stung his skin till he spotted a dial that might be the thermostat. He twisted it, and was relieved to find it moderated the heat. Even then, he could only stand it for a couple of minutes. He spread shampoo on his hair and shower gel on his skin, then pressed the button again. The steam hissed out as before, but soap still covered him. It’s just hot soap now.

He panicked as he wondered if anyone would come to the dormitory. It seemed unlikely; Lucy was one of four companions there and the only child with no duty shifts. Realistically, she wouldn’t know what to do. Then he remembered the intercom. Perhaps Davan’s off-duty. He couldn’t go naked to her room, and anyway she’d probably laugh at his predicament. He stepped stickily out of the shower and slipped and slid to the intercom.

“Davan?”

“Shulai.”

He let out his breath. “It’s me, Mil. I don’t know how to work the shower. At least, I can’t get any water out of it.”

“It only has steam.”

“How am I going to get this shower gel and shampoo off me then?”

There was a silence before she replied, “Hold on. I’ll get back to you.”

Mil waited. He imagined her laughing at him with Jafar. But when her voice came over the intercom again, just moments later, she wasn’t laughing. “Eddie says he rigged up a water shower in there for Lucy and Juli. You can use that. Are you OK?”

“Yes – just cold and sticky.”

“I’ll come and explain how the steam shower works later,” Davan promised.

Mil acknowledged that in a non-committal tone and slithered along the row of cubicles till he came to the one with the hose. With relief he turned on the water and washed gel and bubbles from his skin and hair crest.

When he switched the shower off he remembered he’d left his towel over the door of the first cubicle. Instead of a sticky trail, this time, as he went to get it, he left water all over the floor. He sighed, certain Ayar would be cross with him. Davan will, that’s for sure.

He wrapped the towel around himself just as a cleaning robot appeared to suck up the mess. As he watched it move about and suck up the water and shower gel, he remembered the video log. And it dawned on him then that the cleaning machines were the reason why there had been no trace of the epic battle between the shirolli and the Voth onboard the Bekel. That’s what bugged me about it, he realised.

At least Ayar and Davan won’t find out about the mess, he reassured himself, and wondered about his parents again. Even his dream-memories of his people had dimmed over the years. He hardly remembered his parents, and looked forward to meeting them with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Davan was his sister, but she seemed very alien; even on Earth, she’d grown up in a different culture from him; and besides, her husband Jafar was mostly with her when they met.

It was far lonelier in a dormitory than Mil remembered, with only Lucy, Zanu, Memech and Selush there to share it with.

He’d always found Josie and Dr Chapaire kind. But the people he missed most were Steph and Chas, and even Ron.

Will I ever see any of them again?

*

Armoury and shooting gallery, the Bekel, 7.20 pm/Eighth.

KR-A-AK!

Hardy checked the target. Davan had hit it dead on again. “Excellent, Davan,” he acknowledged, and gave the nod to Mil to fire.

He stepped forwards and adjusted his position. A tongue of bluish flame arced out of his disruptor to sear the bottom right quarter of the target.

“Well done, Mil, that’s enough to kill either a person or a Voth.”

Mil nodded.

“Jafar.”

He stepped into position, feet braced apart, disruptor gripped in both hands, raised it and took aim.

Hardy approved of the way he took his time to be sure of a hit. He waited until Jafar was positioned well before he gave his signal.

The blue flame snaked out and charred the centre of the target.

“Well done, Jafar!” Although Jafar and Davan had had weapons training with JSEP they hadn’t used disruptors before. It was good to see how effective JSEP weapons training was in action. And Josie and Edith haven’t had the benefit of it, as they were civilian employees of JSEP.

Josie was next. She hadn’t been happy about learning to use the disruptor, and Hardy wasn’t sure whether it was because she didn’t like the idea of using weapons or because he was the instructor.

“Just look on it as another form of self-defence,” he’d told her at the start of the session.

Now he said, “OK, Josie. Get yourself ready and fire when you’re comfortable.” He watched her move into position. The weapon wavered in her grasp. Not a good sign.

But they still had time. That was just as well; although he’d pointed out that she might never have to use a disruptor, he was certain it would come to that at some point. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Josie murmured.

“OK. Fire!”

And she did.

The target remained untouched.

Kaskuf shot next. She was good, too. Hardy had no worries about any of the Zarduthi. Josie was his main concern.

The last in line was Azzad. He’d picked up the basics quickly and had a good aim. Another target sizzled.

“OK, everyone. Another round and we finish. Take your time.”

At the end of the round, he called out, “Okay, thanks, everyone. You’ve all worked very hard.” He made eye contact with Josie as he spoke because he wanted to include her for encouragement. “Practice sessions are available tonight from Seventh on. Anyone’s welcome but they’re on a first-come first-served basis – no more than six at a time. See you later!”

The group nodded to him as they left. He crossed to Josie. “Wait,” he said, before she had a chance to put the disruptor down. “I need to talk to you before the next group come in.”

Josie had twisted her fingers around the grip. She checked the power-up switch was off before handing it to him. “I can’t do this,” she said, avoiding his gaze. Her voice was low and hopeless.

“You can, Josie. I just have to find the best way to help you.” He put a hand under her chin and turned her face up to his. “Please don’t be upset about it. That won’t help.”

“I know.” The words squeezed out from deep inside her. “But not being able to do it makes me feel bad. I feel a failure in front of all the children –”

“Look, they’re bred to this, and people like me spend ages learning to shoot. It doesn’t come naturally to everyone. Why not come to the practice session this evening?”

“I’d just prefer not to have to miss the target every time in company with young people I used to look after. I’m afraid they won’t trust me –”

Hardy went to put an arm around her shoulders, then stopped himself and let his arm fall. “I understand that,” he said. “I’ll give you some private tuition if you want.”

“I’d rather not learn this at all!”

“I understand that, too. But I’m concerned that you may not be able to defend yourself when you need to.”

Josie looked up at him this time. “I suppose I am, too. But I don’t know what I can do about it. I just can’t seem to aim right.”

Hardy walked over to the row of seats that lined one end of the room, sat down, and beckoned to her. “If you mean that beam weapons are harder to use than a projectile weapon, I’d be inclined to agree with you.”

“Maybe I do mean that.”

“All right,” he said. “We’ll start with a regular gun.” He pulled a small gun out of a concealed breast pocket. “Here. Try this for size.”

He was pleased to observe that the first thing she did as he placed it on the palm of her hand was to locate and check the safety catch was on. He watched as she hefted it.

“This is yours?”

“Yes. If you can get on with it you can have it.”

“You’d give me a gun?”

“Josie, I’d give you anything if it meant you could defend yourself! Remember, the Voth are unaffected by projectile weapons, and will just use the bullet for energy. You might never have to use a disruptor, but you need to know how to.” I’m certain it’ll come to that at some point.

She nodded, and regarded his brown leather jerkin rather than meet his eyes.

“Come here at nine pm tonight and I’ll spend some time with just you. I’ll get you shooting, however long it takes.” He took a deep breath. “I run a survival class.”

---

CHAPTER 2 – Unwelcome Events

Richmond, England, same day, 8.00 am.

THE HOLOPHONE BROUGHT STEPH back to reality. She stumbled upright to answer it, half-awake. “Oh, it’s you,” she breathed in relief when she saw it was Chas.

“With no good news, I’m afraid,” he said. “The children have taken their ship back and my unit has been selected for the fleet President Sanchez will send in pursuit.”

“What?” Stephanie reached behind her for a chair. “Why yours?”

“I suppose because I was one of the original boarding party.”

Steph followed the logic behind that. “But you only went aboard once.”

“Others haven’t been aboard at all. But Mil is my foster-son, so maybe they think I know something about the Zarduthi. But Mil could barely remember more than his name and some of his language. Shit, Steph, I don’t like this! I feel like they’re telling me to betray my own kid.”

“What if you don’t catch them? Perhaps it won’t come to a fight.”

“Maybe.” Doubt clouded Chas’ expression. “But Red Hempel’s determined. And if anyone can do it, she can.”

*

Derras Labour Camp Compound Office, Declain, same day, midday.

“Bring prisoners!” the Voth Commander grated from the holotank.

Chebbu Restiq, Derras Labour Camp Commander, gave the deep bow of the Kiai. “It is done, great one.” He turned to his men and signalled the Voth’s commands, and how they were to carry them out. They bustled around the assortment of prisoners in the Compound Office: a few Zarduthi in tattered leathers and furs, many loose-robed Declaini, and even five of his own people. All were shackled at the wrists. Most stared at the dusty sand, though the Zarduthi held their heads up.

“Make examples of traitors to avoid further plots,” the Voth Commander ordered. “Prisoners can submit to Games or be eliminated in public tomorrow.”

“You heard that?” asked Chebbu.

“Aye,” murmured one of the Declaini, “and we protest our innocence! We are not versed in the ways of war.”

“Silence!”

“I will not fight in your Games,” said the Declaini. “I cannot speak for my companions – it’s their choice, but I choose to die rather than take part in an entertainment for those who would purloin our land and kill our people. That would dishonour me.”

“Because you know you’ll lose anyway!” sneered the Camp Commander. As the organiser of the Games, he had the use of a shuttle, and had seen more of Declain’s downfall than any other Kiai. While Derras was in the desert zone, even the tropical zone Tarval camp lay in had become desertified after the removal of its trees for mining. They’ll rip the heart out of this planet and move on to the next one. And for all I may try to change the situation, I can’t do a thing about it.

The Declaini breathed in, and stood upright. “It’s true we Declaini are not fighters,” he said. “We never have been and never will be. But there are more peaceful methods of combat than you conquerors can imagine. Be aware that our public executions may spark off more than you slaves have bargained for.” He spat out the word as a man spits out something foul-tasting.

“Then you admit the plot?” Chebbu’s voice took on the crack of a whip.

“Certainly not!”

Chebbu’s hand strayed to his hip holster. “I shall take pleasure in personally expediting your elimination tomorrow, Garavash. And be aware that we will swiftly put down any further rebellion resulting from your execution. The Kiai are totally loyal to their masters, the Voth. Come.” He led the prisoners towards the door, slipped his respirator from his wrist and placed it over the lower part of his face, then stepped outside.

The prisoners had no such luxury. As the metallic taint of the air outside hit their lungs again, they coughed and gasped and clapped hands over their mouths and noses. At noon the pollution was at its worst. Without respirators, none breathed easily.

But the atmosphere didn’t bother the Voth. Chebbu and his troops had speculated more than once as to whether they breathed at all.

They marched the prisoners to a fenced-off part of the compound, where the prisoners would stay until execution. The tramp-tramp of the men’s and prisoners’ march reached Chebbu as he surveyed the destruction the Voth had wrought.

Against the skyline a row of smelters belched smoke and black dust into the air. Under his feet the ground was grey. Any vegetation that fought its way through the parched particulates of the surface crust was yellow and sickly.

The Voth invasion had turned Declain back into a shell of a planet. The toxic metals the labour camp prisoners mined and processed into weapons and technology had done the damage.

Declain had begun to turn its degraded atmosphere around before the invasion, and had built up a good reputation as a planet of rest and relaxation; the Declaini shared their excellent medical skills with those in need of them. Now that progress was lost.

Worse still, Chebbu reflected, it’s no use longing for home. It’s just like this on Kiai. I have no home now. My Firstborn brother was once a proud leader of men with a harem of a hundred females. The Voth occupation crushed that pride. The Firstborns and their wives were turned into troop factories, and I was taken as a slave like the rest of the Afterborn. Many of my people are dead. And all – both Castrates and non-castrates – are now the slave troops of the Voth.

The land had no value now. He thrust the thought from him with a physical gesture he couldn’t suppress. If I ever get home again, everything I ever knew has gone.

*

The Mess, the Bekel, two days later, Third.

Kaj looked around the tables in the Mess. Breakfast officially ran from Third till Fifth, though the night shift could get whatever they needed at any time of day.

He worked the day shift. And this morning, the only empty seats were on Juli’s table.

Kaj enjoyed being in the Engineering section, his main interest aboard the ship. And he knew Ayar wanted to utilise everyone’s skills and interests to help run the ship at optimum efficiency.

So he didn’t mind that Eddie was his nominal boss. Eddie mostly left him alone to get on with his work. Amongst other things, he was required to check the hyperdrive and ion drive systems were within certain performance parameters. When Eddie needed his help on particular tasks he asked him politely and explained clearly what he wanted. The atmosphere between them was polite, if chilly, but they worked together because they both wanted to support Ayar in his self-imposed rescue mission. Eddie had explained that at the start and Kaj privately agreed with him. And they wanted this mission to be a success for the sake of all the children.

Kaj glanced around again. Eddie stood in the queue for the foodsynth machines, tray in hand. He hadn’t seen him come in; he’d been engrossed in getting his own breakfast.

Reluctantly he headed over to Juli’s table. “Mind if I join you for a few minutes?” he asked.

Juli smiled at him. “You’re always welcome, Kaj.”

He sat down. The incongruity of the situation struck him. “It’s weird to be sitting here with you without Lucy.” He picked up his mug of tea and drank. We always had tea in the morning. He already knew how different life was on the Bekel from that in Juli’s family, but hadn’t realised how strange it would feel to be here on the ship again. That niggled at him.

“I know. But she can have whatever she wants for breakfast, and Zanu and the other girls make sure she eats well and keep an eye on her. They play games with her, help her with the computer and learning tasks, and help her keep fit. She’s made good progress in her martial arts, too. I pop in every day to make sure she’s OK – I know you do, too. And she knows she can call on the intercom if there’s a problem. She’s fine.”

“Just like my mom did with me,” Kaj murmured. He’d developed a liking for a cooked breakfast – especially when it didn’t involve anyone having to physically cook it – and tucked into a plate of scrambled egg on toast.

“Ayar asked me if I wanted her to go into a sleepcase when we get to Declain,” Juli said, as Kaj cut up his toast and egg and ate. “I talked about it with Eddie and we agreed it would be best for her.”

Kaj’s response slipped out before he thought about it. ”What if the ship’s boarded by the Voth again?”

“I – I know, it does bother me, especially as it was Eddie that shorted out the ship’s defences to get into the Sleep Room in the first place.”

“But if he hadn’t, we might still have been there, snoozing our lives away –” Kaj stopped short. ”We must make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

At that moment Eddie came over with his breakfast tray. He greeted Kaj and Juli and then said, “OK if I sit here, too? There aren’t any other seats in here today – don’t know why it’s so busy…”

“Sure,” Juli said.

“I guess,” Kaj mumbled.

Eddie put down his tray on the table and subsided into the third chair. ”How’s it going down in Engineering, Kaj?”

Kaj delivered his reply through clenched teeth and tight lips. “About the same as it is up in the control room!”

“What I mean is…are you happy working in that department? I know you love your engineering –”

“Oh, sure!” Kaj muttered.

Eddie ignored the comment, and continued, “– And I trust you because I know you have a huge amount of ability for it.”

“Oh, so you’re trying to – what do humans say? ‘Butter me up’, that’s it, to get me to do what you want me to.” He turned to Juli and added, “I don’t know how you could make up with him after what he did!”

Eddie was on his feet again in a trice. “Apologise to Juli for that comment!”

“No.” Kaj pushed his plate away and stood up. “I meant it, so why would I apologise?” He knew he’d be hungry later but his appetite had evaporated. “See you around!” He walked away from the table and towards the door.

Behind him he heard Juli comment, above the hubbub. “You know what, Eddie? For once I’m glad Lucy isn’t here.”

Kaj lifted one shoulder in the Zarduthi equivalent of a shrug as he left the Mess. He wasn’t due back on duty for a few thousandths, so he headed to the dorm to check on Lucy. She was there with Zanu, Memech, Selush and Mil, having breakfast at a table at the side of the room. The girls chattered as they ate, and Lucy was no exception. Mil concentrated on his breakfast. He was the only quiet one.

“You do know that isn’t a real banana, don’t you, Lucy?” Selush teased. “It was made in the foodsynth matter converter…”

“It is!” she insisted. “You saw Robert bring it in for me from hydroponics! He grew it from a cutting, back at the Big Place, and brought it onboard with him.” She looked up, saw Kaj, and rushed over to hug him, though she could only reach his waist.

He hugged her back. At that moment, she was the most precious thing in the universe to him.

She looked up and focused on his face. “What’s the matter?”

“I had a – disagreement – with Juli – and Eddie –” He held her even more tightly for a couple of thousandths. The only other time he’d felt as bad as this was when he’d been ill, and that had been due to physical illness, not emotional upset. “I know I should apologise, but I can’t, not yet, anyway.”

“That’s why time was invented,” Zanu said, “so that you can think about things, and work them out. Best leave it be for a while, and apologise when you’ve worked out what went wrong.” She paused. “Maybe Juli and Eddie need time, too.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Kaj said. “Maybe they do. But I can’t help thinking I shouldn’t have been so judgmental.”

“Well, if you still think so tomorrow, that’s the time to apologise to both of them.” Lucy led him over to the table. “Finish your breakfast with us.”

“I’m not hungry now,” Kaj said. “It’s put me off my food.”

“Then have this banana Robert brought me from Hydroponics for later.” She offered it to him. “I can get another one, but you’ll be working.”

“Tell Kaj what Robert said about it,” Memech prompted Lucy.

“He told me it was the first one to ripen. And he gave it to me!” Lucy pushed it into his hand. “ButI hink you need it more than me.”

“Lucy, that’s very kind of you,” Kaj said. “But I don’t want to deprive you –”

“Kaj, I’m your friend for ever and ever. I’m allowed to be kind to you. You were kind to me when I was little. We’ll always be friends. Now go to work, and enjoy the banana when you get hungry.”

*

The White House, next day, 6.20 am.

President Sanchez watched as the sun rose above the White House grounds. He felt staler than two-day-old garlic bread.

He hadn’t taken the break the software engineers had suggested the previous evening as they worked on the locked computer system. He’d kept going on coffee and the pizzas he’d had Nikki order in for the engineers, which they’d shared with him. There had been little progress. That damned message still occupies every terminal in the White House. The notice revolved in the terminals’ holotanks above them as Sanchez paced the room for the umpteenth time.

The most notorious hacker on Earth is in league with the Neoluddites. Whereas Lakshar’s more personal phone plea had given his predecessor pause for thought, this latest outrage left Guido Maria Sanchez in a cold fury.

The worst thing was, it was true. It had been his orders that had sent Ayar Dekkutz to work with his ex-foster father on the Mars run, and led the children to sneak up to Galatea Station to take back their starship.

It was his fault that the Zarduthi children – the only people who might be able help defend the planet – had left, along with their security chief. And he needed the ship here on Earth.

He mentally kicked himself again for that bum move. Then it occurred to him. But how do the Neoluddites know that? Perhaps they just guessed.

A voice interrupted his thoughts. “Mr President, sir?”

He turned to see Garcia, the engineers’ team leader.

“We’ll be a while working on this. You’ve been here all night. Why not take a break?” Garcia pleaded. “Go have breakfast, take a shower, have a rest.”

He conceded defeat. “Thanks, I will,” he said, “after I speak to Don Harris.”

“He’s downstairs, sir,” Garcia said. “He’ll be up in a few minutes.”

*

Ten minutes later.

“Many thanks.” Don Harris smiled at Nikki, the President’s secretary, who had brought him to the Oval Office and knocked on the door.

It opened, and he entered. The door closed behind him.

President Sanchez rose to greet him. “Hello, Don,” he said. “I’ve met your boss quite a few times, but we’ve never met before. Good to see you.”

Don was pleased. Hardy was right. This president doesn’t seem to be a cunt like Langrishe was. Though he did send out the new fleet after Ayar and his friends. He shook hands with President Sanchez.

When they were seated, Sanchez said, “I asked you here, as I would have done if Hardy had been here, because the Neoluddites hacked our computers two days ago.”

Don held up his hands. “I’m not into that kind of security, Sir. Just the physical kind.”

Sanchez smiled. “I know – Hardy has made himself very useful. That’s exactly why I asked for your help. The hacking hasn’t been made public.”

“Good. Let that one out and you’ll get every would-be hacker trying to game the system!”

“I know. I have a team of software engineers working on the system as we speak, but I also want to get the perpetrators. We know it was the Neoluddites because they couriered a holovid to us around the time the message appeared on our screens. I want you to trace them and arrest them, if at all possible. Especially Blanko.”

“Mr President, Sir, my brief, as was Hardy’s, is to deal with matters relating to the security of the Zarduthi children and the systems put in place to deal with them and protect them – as necessary.”

“Well, I have a feeling this is connected with that. The Neoluddites have targeted the children or their ship in the past – and always because Per Lakshar has an obsession about acquiring a colony planet for his followers to settle. Hardy told me Lakshar asked my predecessor to set in motion a feasibility study regarding the settlement of such a planet.”

“That’s true, Mr President, Sir, and it wasn’t made public. The feasibility study never happened, either. Have you asked the children if they know of any such planets?” Don asked, curious as to where that might lead Earth and the Neoluddites.

“No, but perhaps I should. They’d know of such things, if anyone does.”

“Perhaps that’s something to explore in the future,” Don suggested, mindful of both the children’s and the Neoluddites’ absence.

“Quite. So the point is, can you trace the courier company and the Neoluddites, on the basis that the two are connected?”

“I’ll attempt to do so, though Blanko may not hang out with the Neoluddites. Who’s the courier company?”

“Unknown.”

“Do you have the packaging and delivery note for the holovid?”

“I have the packaging. There was no delivery note.”

Predictably, Don thought, but I had to ask. “Can I see it?”

The President reached into a drawer in his desk, drew out a small, lightweight cardboard box, and handed it to Don.

“Can I take this? I’ll have it analysed and get back to you.”

“Sure.”

“Who delivered the holovid?”

“A guy on a motorbike. Like the time they sent the footage of Ayar when they kidnapped him. Though I don’t remember there being an investigation into the courier then, or maybe –”

“That’s because Hardy didn’t follow that up. He put the plan up at Galatea Station into action almost immediately because of the threat to Ayar’s life.” OK, we’ll have to do it the hard way, Don thought. ”Is there CCvid of the motorbike rider arriving at the White House?”

“Yes, I thought you might go for that angle, so I made sure they kept it.” He spoke into the intercom. “Nikki, can you bring me that footage of the bike rider? And the memory drive with the Neoluddites’ holovid on it?”

A few moments later Nikki entered the Oval Office, and put both drives on the desk.

“I’ll start looking into this, then,” Don said, as he pocketed them.

*

The Mess, the Velakta, same day/415.256.5.27.553 AD, ten thousandths later.

“How do you like your quarters? Do you need anything else?”

“Everything’s fine. It’s luxury to have steam showers again.” Omol met Afdar’s gaze across the table. “I think all of us feel more comfortable onboard a ship than on-planet.”

“You did well to survive so long in such difficult conditions.” Afdar’s expression grew pensive. “We did well on Haveertel. We only lost a tenth of our fighting strength over the eight years we fought there. The Dalvand lost almost a quarter.”

“Bad luck or bad judgement?”

Afdar regarded him for several thousandths. “Voracious Voth and fierce Kiai fighters, I think.” He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I guess that comes into the bad luck category.”

“What happened? We’ve got lots to catch up on.”

“Of course.” Afdar got up. “I’ll get us some gerris-juice.” He crossed the Mess to the row of foodsynth machines, made his selection and returned with two beakers. He set one in front of Omol and took a swig from the other, then sat down opposite Omol again. “You know that the Voth made one push towards Declain and one towards Haveertel and Yelva when they left Kiai?”

“I heard that before our ship was destroyed.”

“You’ll have to tell me about that some time.”

“I will.” Omol nudged Afdar’s elbow. “Go on.”

“We thought the Voth would expand out past Declain to the yellow star system that’s next in line, but instead they pushed out to the Haveertel system, and Yelvar beyond it. There are extensive mineral resources there, which the Haveertel never exploited, thanks to their fragile bodies. We tried to contain the war at Haveertel but the Yelvari are on high alert in case we can’t. We destroyed a third of the Voth at Haveertel, but the damned creatures breed like skitterbugs. You kill one, and a few thousandths later there are more. How can that be right?”

Omol shook his head. “I was at Kiai. The place alternated between dry desert and swamp conditions when the Voth arrived, but even when we left two years later, it was a ruin,” he said. “We failed to contain the conflict there.”

Afdar met his gaze. “I’m well aware of that. The social set-up and infrastructure on Kiai have imploded since our last visit. The Holds are in ruins and the remnants of their civilisation eke out a living from islands of parched land. There’s no such thing as a Castrate any more – the chemicals aren’t available – and the Voth take all male youngsters as slaves. The females are just used as troop factories.”

“We met a few Kiai who escaped enslavement, and we’ve given Kiai refugees hops to wherever they could get asylum, although we’re no longer contracted to help them.”

“Failure’s never good for the soul,” Omol commented. If any species had the physical strength and fierce nature to overthrow the Voth, it should have been the Kiai. Yet the Voth overran their planet. “But what happened on Haveertel?”

Afdar took a deep pull at his gerris-juice, then explained, “According to them, the Voth realised there are large untapped mineral resources there and imported a Kiai workforce to mine them. The Haveertel were horrified to see the countryside torn up, and asked the Kiai what they were doing. The Kiai told them they had no choice – they were enslaved. The Haveertel explained to them that they derive and nurture their life force from the metals, via an unusual chemical pathway.

“Their neighbours the Yelvai saw what was happening and contacted us, using the hyperspace comms we gave them during the Horvar invasion. Naturally, we went to help the Haveertel.

 “Four clanships hid on the far side of one of the moons, and used a hollow area as a base. For five Haveertel years we harried the Voth, and destroyed many installations. Because the Kiai had helped the Haveertel in the past, and because we’d been contracted to help them, we tried to avoid Kiai casualties, though some were inevitable. But we were winning.

“Then the Voth sent out scouts and discovered our ships. We fought for survival, but barely escaped with our lives and ships. The Voth breed at will by consuming their surrroundings. That’s a bit different from our offspring!”

“We could do with some Kiai on our side,” Omol snorted. “Their fertility soon makes up numbers again, and they’re such fierce fighters.” He paused. “Have any Kiai on Haveertel defected?”

“We helped a few escape at the start of the campaign, but they’re more wary now. We captured a couple of Kiai troopers to learn more about the Voth, and discovered that when they reproduce, the young know everything the parent does. “We thought that on Kiai, and now it’s confirmed.” Afdar sighed. “If we knew where the Voth homeworld is, we could destroy or confine them there. Although…” He swigged his drink and set the beaker on the table between them. “Omol, have you given any thought to what happens when we have destroyed the Voth, or at least driven them back to their homeworld?”

“I didn’t have time while we waited for rescue. It was a daily fight for survival.”

“I have. Often. There should be a central organisation that represents all the planets to deal with this type of emergency. That way we’d all be better able to defend ourselves against upstarts like the Voth.”

“That would put us all out of work!” Omol pointed out with a grin. “We survive because there’s no such organisation.”

“But we could be permanently contracted to fight for it, and go where we were needed.”

“We’ll be needed to police the Voth even if we do chase them home. And if we don’t there won’t be any work at all. Or any us. I get your drift.”

“Zooch.” Afdar’s eyes held no humour. “We must stop them before they destroy everything.”

---

CHAPTER 3 – A Change in Behaviour

Control room, the Bekel, same day, an hour later/Sixth.

“ANYTHING, MIRIL?”

Mil turned. Ayar stood beside his console.

“Mainly static.” Mil adjusted some controls. “But there is this.” He pointed to the miniature simtank at the top of his console that projected images above the column.

A broadcast had come through, though the images were misty and frequently broke up. A small creature, almost transparent, to the point that its blood vessels were clearly visible, spoke into a microphone. Although vaguely humanoid, with its wings and disproportionately long limbs it resembled neither human nor Zarduthi.

“Haveertel!” Ayar muttered, and flipped the catch on his translator. “Feed the transmission through to the main simtank so we can see more clearly.”

Mil complied, then glanced across at the weapons console, where Hardy stood beside Elukor Kodas, who was showing him how to use the ship’s weapons. Both had stopped to watch. The images panned out; the transparent Haveertel was beside a Yelvai, who spoke from time to time. “The Yelvai is interviewing the Haveertel, I think,” he said.

“Looks like it,” Ayar murmured. “But what for?”

Mil saw Ayar touch his throat and remembered his own translator. He felt self-conscious as he flipped the switch on his own device. It took a thousandth for the translator to recognise the language the Haveertel spoke and deliver a burst of sound to Mil’s ear.

“We appeal urgently to our friends the Zarduthi to help however way you can. Our world was beautiful and untouched until the Voth and their Kiai troops invaded. We had no need of technology, for we are the keepers of the clouds. But the Kiai and their Voth masters have despoiled our world in their search for metals. Some Zarduthi ships have come and tried to help but always there are more Voth and more Kiai. Please help! We need more clanships to join the fight against the Voth.”

The images broke up then, and nothing Mil did could get them back.

“The Haveertel’s a long way from home,” Ayar commented. “I didn’t think they could leave their planet.”

“Not with any hope of survival,” Elukor agreed. “How brave to leave to bring this message!”

Hardy met Ayar’s gaze open-mouthed and wonder filled his eyes. “I never realised there were so many different sentient creatures in the galaxy, Ayar.”

“It wasn’t exactly a priority while we were on Earth.”

“I suppose not, but I think you’d better give me a briefing on all of this, otherwise I won’t know who’s friendly and who’s not.”

“I think we’d better all have a briefing session. It’s become clear to me that the situation is more complicated than when we entered the Long Sleep.” Ayar consulted his duty roster. He’d insisted everyone become familiar with two of the control room systems, aside from weapons and hand-to-hand combat practice, which meant that everyone, including the humans, received several training sessions a day. “We’ll meet at Seventh and again at Ninth this evening. Nobody’s to leave their duty spell or training sessions, but there should be enough crew available that everyone can make one of those meetings. Hardy, you’ll have to cancel one of your evening practice sessions, and so will Chan.”

“I’ll post a note.”

“No need,” Mil interjected. “Fazil and I can notify everyone over the commgrid.” Fazil Guma shared commgrid monitoring and incoming broadcasts with him.

She gave the affirmative palmraise. “We’ll notify the crew of the meetings as well, and ask everyone to sign up for one or the other.”

“Thanks, Miril, Fazil,” Ayar said. “Tell everyone there’ll be an informal meeting in the Mess at those times. We can get a lot of people in there.”

Mil acknowledged this with a palmraise and he and Fazil set to work.

“Why don’t we go in closer to Yelva and try to find out more?” suggested Zanu.

“I won’t risk the ship at present,” Ayar said. “Our primary purpose is to find out what happened to our parents, and try to help them. After that it’s up to them to decide what to do about Haveertel.”

*

Hardy’s Washington DC office, JSEP, 14^th August, 2.30 pm.

Don plugged the memory drive into his laptop as soon as he reached Hardy’s Washington office, then sipped the coffee he’d bought on his way there. As soon as the footage loaded he sat and watched it.

The holoprojection appeared above the laptop. Don saw the despatch rider appear at the security barrier, park his bike and get off. He couldn’t see the bike’s licence plate.

The rider took a small package from the pannier and walked over to the nearest security guard. The view changed as he approached the guard. Someone at the White House has taken the trouble to put this together for maximum information, he realised.

Now Don could see the rider’s face. It was a woman wearing leathers and boots – but close to six feet tall. She handed what she’d taken from the pannier to the guard, then walked back to the bike. As she rode off, Don got a different view of the bike and saw its licence plate. Two hits there.

He ran the footage back to the point where he saw her face and examined it. It appeared to be a young East Asian woman, though she never removed her helmet. Female despatch riders weren’t uncommon, but it could make it easier to trace the company. He froze the holo of her and checked for her identity, but drew a blank. Perhaps a student? Or a temporary worker?

He pulled up a list of courier companies in the Washington area and contacted Laureen Williams, his assistant, to call them to find out if any used female couriers. Then he turned his attention to the video from the Neoluddites.

Per Lakshar’s image sprang up over the laptop. “President Sanchez,” he said, “you’re proving to be as intransigent as President Langrishe was over the allocation of a colony planet to my organisation.”

The truth of that, Don reflected, was likely that Sanchez had been told not to negotiate with terrorists. And Lakshar probably knows that.

“We asked President Langrishe to instigate a feasibility study into the cost and list any problems in allocating a suitable planet for us to colonise. And what did he do? He ignored us.” Per Lakshar paused. “So we’d hoped that you’d be more…helpful…in your attitude to us. But we are very disappointed. We don’t feel that our followers should be denied the chance to colonise other planets just because they’re members of our organisation.

“Hence we’ve taken matters into our own hands, and attacked the computer system in the White House. If you can’t voluntarily come up with the goods, then give us the means to achieve our aims and we’ll do it ourselves.”

Don played the message over again a few times, hoping to learn something about the senders, but nothing jumped out at him.

*

Ninth, 8.40 pm.

Mil was on his way to the Mess for the earlier meeting when he met Hardy.

“I was surprised when Ayar said everyone had to come to this meeting,” Hardy said. A smile hovered about his mouth, and his words had a teasing tone. “I thought you Zarduthi knew all about the space environment.”

Mil considered this for a couple of thousandths, wary of Hardy’s friendliness. He remembered him from the Big Place as a quiet man with a grim expression, who had asked many questions. Mil hadn’t been able to answer many of them, and had sensed Hardy’s impatience. “I don’t remember much, even now,” he said at last. “I only remember the ship and the people on it. And even the ship isn’t how I remember it, not all of it. And there are no grown-ups any more. It isn’t what I expected to find. I’ll find it helpful.”

“I, on the other hand, didn’t expect to find myself here at all!” Hardy murmured. “Well, shall we learn out about this together, Mil?”

They entered the Mess, helped themselves to drinks and seated themselves at a table. A few thousandths later Ayar joined them. He carried a portable simtank unit, which he placed on their table at one side of the room. Around them the tables filled up. On another table Mil noticed that Josie and Dr Chapaire sat together, with Juli, who held Lucy on her lap. Kaj sat beside them, saying little. Mil wondered if Ayar had also noticed that Hardy glanced over at their table from time to time.

“We’ll wait a couple of thousandths,” Ayar said, “in case Eddie can come to this meeting. If not I’ll assume he’ll be at the later one.” As usual he spoke in English for the benefit of the humans onboard. Mil had been relieved to find this, since he’d forgotten quite a lot of his own language.

Eddie didn’t put in an appearance, perhaps because his ex-wife and daughter had, so Ayar started the briefing session. He stood up. “Thanks for coming, everyone, and giving up your off-duty time to be here.”

He activated the portable simtank and a three-dimensional holomap of the universe leapt into being above it. He launched into an explanation of the location of various nearby stars and their families of planets and satellites, then moved onto the various species which lived on inhabited planets or moons. Images displayed of the Yelvai, Haveertel and Declaini, amongst others.

“But what about the Voth?” Hardy asked. “Where are they from?”

“We don’t know,” Ayar said. “We first came across them on Kiai, thirteen years ago, Earth and ship’s time. And later, our parents made contract with the Declaini, but we don’t know what went wrong – that’s why we’re here. And today we learned that one or more clans fought them on Haveertel, with only partial success.”

“But we’re headed for Declain, aren’t we?” Juli asked.

“Yes,” Ayar said. “We can’t even guess at what we’ll find when we arrive but we know they’ve plundered every available resource on Kiai, and from that interview we overheard today we can only guess that they’ve done much the same on Haveertel.”

“Why did they go to Haveertel?” asked Elukor Kodas. During Mil’s commgrid shift, he’d begun pilot training under Ayar’s watchful gaze.

“Not a being a Voth, I can’t know that, but I suspect it’s an easy target. The natives have no technology of any kind and can’t defend themselves. The vast mineral resources on-planet are just what you need before you make a big push towards a high-tech world. And though the Voth forces are split between several locations, they can reproduce as many new Voth as they need within much less than a day. Luckily the Kiai aren’t as quick at replacing lost troops, and take time to reach fighting maturity – as with us and the humans.” Ayar played a series of three-dimensional images of the Voth through the audio-visual equipment.

“I presume some of the Kiai have offered resistance,” Juli suggested, “since they asked you for help in the past?”

“We fought for and with them for two years,” Ayar agreed. “But if a Kiai stood up to the Voth one day, there’d be no trace of his existence by the next.”

“What is their usual strategy?” Hardy asked.

“In how they take a planet over, or what they do when they’re there?”

Hardy shrugged. “Both, I guess.”

“In terms of initial contact, they arrive in large numbers and take what they want. I found recordings sent to this ship by the Declaini in what I think was an attempt to persuade our parents to go there and help fight the Voth. They now, of course, have Kiai troops to help. Before that they consumed everything and everyone who got in their way or opposed them – and they have a disgusting way of eating, too.”

Mil listened hard. He didn’t want to, but he found a horrific and irresistible fascination towards the Voth.

“They extrude digestive gel onto the victim, then suck up the residue once the blends of acids and alkalis in it has broken their body down. They can consume animal or vegetable matter, minerals and metals. That must have been how they got into the ship – where the humans put the airlock in.” Ayar met Hardy’s gaze. “A dead Voth was found onboard the ship, and the humans discovered that the digestive juices contain a blend of substances that range between acids and alkalis. These can jellify anything, whether animal, vegetable or mineral in nature.”

“What do we know about the other species?” Hardy asked. “The Kiai, for instance.”

Ayar pinpointed their home system in the simtank with a laser marker. “They’re fierce, skilled fighters, with or without weapons.” He gestured towards his elbow, then his knee. “They have poison spurs at the elbow and knee joints, so if you get into a fight with any of them, you can’t let them scratch you. If their poison gets into the bloodstream, it paralyses us within – a thousandth – seconds, and kills inside an hour. What it would do to a human I don’t know, but I suspect something similar.” An image of a Kiai trooper displayed above the portable simtank, and circled on its axis. Mil gazed at it in fascination.

“Could any of the Kiai be disaffected enough to rebel?” Hardy’s voice brought Mil’s attention back to the present. “It might take the entire known galaxy to defeat these Voth-things, and if we want to dispose of them permanently, we –”

Ayar turned to face Hardy. His face was set as if carved in stone. “Don’t forget that even if a Kiai wanted to defy the Voth they live in fear of their lives. Faithful slaves assure their survival on a temporary basis. The Voth need them to carry out physical tasks, though they can extrude pseudolimbs to get around – with difficulty – and perform some tasks. My goal,” he added, “is to trace them to their homeworld and destroy every last one of them. I think that’s the only way to protect Earth, Kiai, Declain, and the rest of these known worlds.”

After the meeting the Mess emptied slowly. Ayar was now off-duty and excused himself to rest till the later meeting. Mil stood in the corridor with Rel Kahikor and Fazil Guma after Hardy had left, in company with Josie, to run another firearms practice session.

Mil learned that Rel had been fostered in Poland and Fazil in Germany. He hadn’t remembered their names, and their faces were ghostly memories.

“I didn’t even know they’d found a Voth onboard,” Rel said.

“Nor did I,” Mil said, “and my foster-dad was second aboard, the day they found us.” Chas had never even mentioned the Voth, though he’d spoken of the search of the Bekel several times.

“Probably he wasn’t allowed to tell you, Miril,” Fazil said. “I think we all know the close-mouthed ways of JSEP now!”

“I think he should have.”

“Maybe he thought you wouldn’t understand. After all, you were so young.” Rel’s tone was kind. “I’m sure he wouldn’t deliberately conceal something from you that he thought you should know about.”

“Perhaps he wanted to protect you,” Fazil added. Her face creased. “I want to destroy every one of the Voth!”

Mil remembered that Ayar had said something similar, at least twice. But he still felt hurt that Chas hadn’t told him, and loneliness closed in on him.

*

At the end of the meeting, Kaj was on his way out of the Mess when Ayar called him over. “Kaj, I need to discuss something with you for a moment.”

Kaj felt some apprehension at that.

“I’m a bit concerned that you might be feeling guilty about mentioning something to Eddie when you first went to live at his apartment.”

“Am I in trouble about telling him about the foodsynth machines?”

Ayar’s next words reassured him. “Absolutely not. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for a while.” He paused, watching Kaj’s face. “You don’t have to feel guilty about anything. After all, I shared the hyperdrive, and some other stuff, with the humans. And Dr Kobayashi shared the information about the Voth being found onboard with me, and later on the stuff about the Voth we talked about this evening. I want you to know that I support your decision to share the information about the foodsynth machines with Eddie. And it’s been of benefit to the humans both on Earth and in space. So it’s not necessary to feel guilty. I just wanted you to know.”

 “Thanks for that, Ayar.” Kaj nodded and left the room for his quarters.

I’m not sure how I feel about it yet, but I’m not going to worry any more.

*

Eddie and Juli’s quarters, 15^th August, before breakfast.

“Do you think he’s all right?”

“Who?”

“Eddie, you know perfectly well who I’m talking about! Kaj. I haven’t seen him since the argument the other day.”

“Well, I have, in passing, and he looked fine to me.”

“You didn’t tell me!”

“I assumed you felt the same as me, that he’ll turn up when he’s ready.” Eddie paused. “But I get where you’re coming from. I just think we have to give him space.”

“Well, yeah, but I’m worried about him. I haven’t seen him at any mealtimes, and I don’t know if he’s eating properly. After that illness, the Mimso fever that came back, I worry about him if he’s off his food.”

Eddie turned to look at her square on. “Juli, he’s probably taking his food back to his cabin to eat, or eating in the dorm with Lucy. I can see how close they are. They’ve been through a lot together.” He slid his arms around her. “I don’t know, we came with Ayar to get away from JSEP and its machinations, and here’s Hardy turned up to haunt us.”

“Is he being awkward towards you?”

“No – no.” Eddie shrugged. “But every time I see him in his weapons class, everything he did rushes through my mind like a whirlwind.”

“Same here, and the same thing’s probably happening to him. He’s just better at dealing with it than we are. Does he treat you differently from the others, though?”

“No, he’s very professional. He treats everyone just the same – though he does go out of his way to help Josie –”

“I noticed that, too, and I think he has the biggest crush ever on her, but she’s also scared to use the weapons. I think he’s seen that and wants her to find her inner lioness!”

Eddie couldn’t help a chuckle at that. “Seriously, though, I think we should take a leaf out of Hardy’s book where Kaj is concerned. Let’s give him space and let him come round in his own time. It was a bit unfortunate that what happened the other day took place when the Mess was full.”

“Well, that was why it happened. Kaj wouldn’t even have sat with me had there been a space anywhere else.” She leant against him. “You’re right – we have to give him some space to get used to the seismic shifts in his world.”

*

Control room, the Velakta, same day, 415.258.6.37.401 AD.

Omol’s eyes were fixed on the image in the simtank.

“What’s your ETA at the Declaini system, Vagar?” Afdar asked.

“We’ll meet you there in two days’ time. But we’ve no idea what to expect when we get there –”

“Nor have we. I’d suggest we rendezvous just outside the system to review the situation and plan our strategy.”

“Just what I was going to suggest. With four clanships we may be able to turn this war with the Voth around –”

“Four? There’ll only be us,” Vagar Hesdatz replied. “Since you left the fighting’s broken out again. The Voth brought in more Kiai forces to replace those we eliminated just as we left, so Pendagh and Mindar stayed behind.”

“I see…” Afdar thought hard. “That means we must be very careful. It’s even more vital, in those circumstances, not to squander our forces.” Then he straightened and said, “How many spare cabins onboard the Kemeen do you have, Vagar?”

“About twenty.”

“Singles, doubles? Dormitory places for children?”

“You want a complete inventory? Hold for a moment, please.” Vagar’s image disappeared from the simtank as he consulted something Omol couldn’t see; he guessed it was the inventory holoimage of his ship. When he reappeared he replied, “Fourteen singles, nine doubles, and five dormitory spaces.”

“Thanks. We’ve picked Omol and his people up from the planet they’ve been marooned on for eleven years, and we’re a bit overcrowded here,” Afdar explained. “I’ll reassign some families to you so you’re up to full fighting strength again.”

Omol shivered. It’s the beginning of the end of clan Kazid.

*

Children’s dormitory, 16^th August, before breakfast.

Juli had been full of good intentions following her discussion with Eddie the day before. But when she slipped into the dorm to check on Lucy the next day before breakfast, Kaj was there, having breakfast with Lucy, Mil and the other girls.

She decided to play it cool. “Oh, here you are, Kaj.”

“Hello, Juli.” His voice sounded distant.

“Are you all right? I just popped in to check on Lucy.”

“Me too, and they invited me to stay for breakfast.” There was a defiant note in his voice.

Juli decided to ignore it. “Oh good, I’m glad you’re getting some food at the start of the day. I was worried about you as well.”

Kaj nodded. “Thanks.”

“Mom, look what Robert brought us!” Lucy brandished a bunch of bananas. “Want one?”

“Only if there’s a spare. You guys should have them if Robert brought them in for you.” She watched Lucy count the number of bananas on the hand and then count the number of people in the room. “Oh, there’s just enough for us.”

“Well, then, no worries because there are some in the Mess too. I’ll be happy with a hug instead.”

Lucy abandoned her crunchy wheat flakes to walk over and throw her arms around Juli.

“Shall we make some cakes together, Lucy?”

“Yes, when?” 

“This morning?”

“Can we all make cakes?” Fazil asked. “I’ve had cake, and I like it, but I don’t know how to make it conventionally. But we can make it in the foodsynth machines.”

“Of course!” Juli said. “I might need some working out how to do that.”

“No problem.”

Kaj stood up. “Be sure to save some for me!” He came over to Juli and Lucy and put his arms around both of them. “Group hug?”

“Sure,” Lucy said. Juli just smiled and embraced him too.

“What about us?” Memech said, indicating Selush, Zanu and herself. “And Mil?”

Kaj and Lucy opened their arms to let them in. “I’ve got to go to work now,” Kaj said after a moment or two. “Take care, all of you.”

“I need to talk to you privately,” she told Kaj. “I’ll walk with you to work.”

“OK.” Kaj looked resigned.

Juli gave them all a final squeeze, then disengaged herself to follow Kaj.

He walked fast; he was already halfway down the corridor when the door closed behind Juli. She hurried to catch him up. “Kaj, I need you to do something.”

He looked at her warily.

“You’re very close to Lucy, and you have a lot of influence over her. If you could try to come to an accommodation with Eddie, she might accept him as her father -”

“I knew you were going to say something like that!” Kaj stared at Juli. “Can’t you just leave well alone?”

“Kaj, I’m Lucy’s mum, and your foster-mum! I love both of you, but I love Eddie too, and he’s really upset that Lucy doesn’t accept him as her daddy.”

“I don’t understand the way you’ve changed, Juli. That’s the crux of it. You were the one who took us to live in Paris, and yet you’ve made up with Eddie, and brought both of us with you.”

“So – why did you come?”

Kaj stared at her. After a moment, he said, “You know why. Out of loyalty to Ayar, because I wanted to find my mom, and because of you and Lucy. They’re all equally important reasons.”

“Exactly. You love Lucy, I know you do. Please, Kaj, for her sake, can’t you show her that you can accept Eddie?”

“And why did you come?”

Juli stared at him for a moment before she answered. “There was no reason to stay on Earth. And at the Reception Centre when you were poorly, Edith told me something that I didn’t know. Apparently, Eddie told her when he picked you up to come to our apartment that he was concerned that JSEP would take advantage of you. So I mentioned that to him the other day, and he said they’d threatened him with losing his job if he didn’t do what they said.”

It was Kaj’s turn to stare. After a moment he said, “I didn’t know that.” Then he put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll have to think about it. But in the meantime, I will make an effort to get on better with Eddie. Perhaps when she sees that, Lucy’ll come round. And now, I need to get to Engineering.”

*

Hardy’s Washington office, 16^th August, 10.25 am.

Don received a call that morning about the courier driver from Laureen.

“The motorcyclist is a private individual – not part of a company as such – who does part-time courier work through a delivery app. She’s a student by the name of Ranjida Srivastava.”

“Any idea where she’s studying?”

“The Kumaraswamy Institute. It’s an overseas language school.”

“What’s the address?”

Laureen told him and he left the office.

*

Kumaraswamy Institute, Washington, 11.45 am.

At the location Laureen had given him, Don found a large house with a sign in the front garden. He parked nearby, walked up to the front door, and rang the bell. Parked at the side of the property, on a concrete hardstanding with several bicycles leaning against the wall, was Ranjida’s motorbike.

A doorstep discussion with the owner of the Institute, who answered the door personally, yielded the information that the package Ranjida had delivered had arrived there by courier, addressed to her.

“Do you have any packaging? Was there a delivery note? What I’m trying to get at, Mr Dasgupta, is where did it come from?”

Mr. Dasgupta spread his hands. “No packaging, just cardboard box. Ranjida had two hours to deliver.”

“There was a delivery deadline?”

“Yes, yes! Deadline two hours.”

“Hmm…Mr Dasgupta, what languages do you teach here?”

“Just own house and business. No teach – teachers hired. Teach English, Spanish, French, Russian. European languages. For business.”

“And what is Ranjida Srivastava studying?”

“Confidential.”

At this point Don decided it was time to reveal who he was and who he worked for. “I’m a JSEP Special Investigator.” He showed Mr Dasgupta his ID. “Is Ranjida here today? I’d really appreciate a chat with her personally.”

“In class now. You come back later.”

Not likely, Don thought. “Not possible, I’m afraid. I did see Ranjida’s bike here. Please take me to her.”

“I bring.”

I bet you won’t if I let you go and get her. You’ll jump out of the window and make a run for it. “I’ll come with you.”

“Leave now or I call police.”

“In this instance, I am the police, and I’m not leaving until I speak to Ranjida. Take me to her now.” Don fingered the paperwork in his pocket. “I have a warrant, and I won’t hesitate to arrest you if you hinder my investigation.”

“Leave now. I call police.”

Don pulled the warrant out and waved it under Dasgupta’s nose. “You’d better start co-operating! Take me to Ranjida.”

Dasgupta took one look at Don and apparently decided he’d better co-operate. “You come.”

He led Don into the house and along a corridor to a room on the ground floor. “This student common room.”

Don heard people talking inside the room, though he couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Dasgupta opened the door. “My students,” he said, and tried to run, but Don grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. He surveyed the room. About half a dozen people stared back at him in shock, young men and women from all four corners of the world.

Don took out his phone, and said to the occupants of the room, “Nobody leave. Just stay seated. Is there anyone else in the house?”

“No,” said a young woman, “just us.”

Don realised it was Ranjida, from her height. “Thanks,” he said, and confirmed her identity with her.

Laureen was in a truck parked further up the road, with half a dozen JSEP security staff. “Come in now, and let the police know what we’ve found,” Don said into his phone. “It looks like one of those fake language schools.”

Dasgupta struggled in his grip.

Don held on grimly, and when Laureen and her crew arrived a few minutes later, arrested him, and brought the “students” in for questioning.

*

The next morning found Don still questioning the students. Far from wanting to keep quiet about the activities at the language institute, they were keen to share their stories. Most told tales of being tricked into applying for a place at the “language institute”. All complained that most of the money they earned from the poorly-paid jobs they did had been taken off them.

“The girls, particularly, are lucky not to have been trafficked for sex,” Laureen murmured. “As it is, this is modern slavery, with their passports taken from them and most of what they earn kept back as well.”

Dasgupta had been questioned and charged with extortion and fraudulently running a language teaching facility, and was currently languishing in a police cell as he awaited transfer to prison pending further charges.

Ranjida was helpful; she received packages for delivery, she explained. Most of her deliveries involved small items from local stores: small household items, computer supplies and so on. But she’d received a couple of packages from other courier firms at various times, with instructions not to let anyone see her face. “Am I in trouble?” she asked.

“Maybe,” Don told her, “but we might be able to do something to help if you can help us with our inquiry. What are the names of the other courier firms?”

She told him, and he despatched Laureen to do a bit of digging around to find out more about the companies, and the origin of the package.

At lunchtime, they had coffee in the canteen together and caught up.

“There’s a whole chain of companies involved,” Laureen told him, “stretching across America, and perhaps further. After all, we know the Neoluddites are based in Russia, because that’s where Per Lakshar hangs out. And, potentially, Blanko.”

Armed with her list of companies and private delivery couriers on the app Ranjida used, Don set to work looking into them.

*

Med-bay, the Bekel, 17^th August, noon.

Hardy Brencher heard faint sounds nearby. He lay still for some moments, and listened to the distant whisper of the ventilation system.

Footsteps squeaked on the metal floor. When he’d gathered enough energy and curiosity, he opened his eyes to see who was there.

Edith Chapaire leant over him. “Ah, Monsieur Brencher, I thought you must be about ready to wake up,” she said.

“Mmm,” he murmured, and put his hand to his throat to massage the slight tenderness there as he spoke. He discovered a dressing.

“That is there to stop you from doing what you just tried to do!” she said, a stern note in her voice. “You will be fine in a day or two, but I would not touch anything for now, and it would be well to rest your voice.”

That’s telling me to shut up and keep still! he thought, and grinned at her. The formality of her speech amused him, although he’d learned respect for her sincerity and concern for the welfare of the children. “Drink?” he croaked.

“Here.” She put a glass of water on the table beside his bed. “I’ll help you sit up –”

He waved her away. The lassitude from the anaesthetic faded; he felt fine, apart from a slight headache. He braced his hands under him and pushed himself up to sit on the bed, just as the door opened.

Ayar stepped into the sick bay. “How are you, Hardy?”

“Fine,” he mouthed, and pointed to the water.

“Take the rest of today off – you’ll be fit enough to work again tomorrow,” Ayar assured him.

“How long – you?”

“I was just a kid – I don’t even remember it. But children get a couple of days to recover. Adults only get one.” A smile of genuine warmth and a tinge of humour replaced his usual dour expression. He held out his hand. “Welcome to the Zarduthi, Hardy!”

Hardy grasped his thumb. “Thank you,” he mouthed. “Dr Chapaire told me to rest my voice.”

“Sensible advice. Just rest today, no shooting, and especially, no judo. I take it you’ve cancelled your classes?”

Hardy nodded, lifted the glass and let the water slide down his throat. It tasted better than the most delicious wine.

“Good. When you feel ready, you can get up – no need to stay here.”

Hardy drank his water slowly. Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll get dressed,” he mouthed.

“Do that,” Ayar said, and left the room.

“I will give you some privacy,” Dr Chapaire said, “but if you need help, call me.” She followed Ayar.

Hardy got up. There wasn’t even any of the dizziness he usually felt after a space sickness attack, so the shot Dr Chapaire had given him before the operation, in lieu of his usual medication, probably hadn’t worn off yet.

He still had his underwear on. He pulled on and fastened his leather trousers and a lightweight shirt of woven fabric, then his soft leather jerkin. Finally he sat on the side of the bed and slid his feet into his boots. He’d found a soft, comfortable pair that fitted well. He patted his breast pocket, checked at his gun’s disappearance, then remembered he’d given it to Josie the other day. It was the right thing to do, he thought. With that, she’d made progress. Soon she’d be able to learn to use the disruptor. He smiled in satisfaction. But why’s she got such a hang-up about failure?

He stepped forwards to the mirror, checked his silver blond hair, short enough to need little attention from his comb. Then he examined the dressing at his throat. It had been taped on, and was drenched in fluid. Perhaps to prevent adherence to the wound? There were a couple of bloodspots, but it looked neat. He wasn’t concerned about it. But he noticed the small dressing behind his ear, and put his hand up to investigate. As the sensation returned there he became aware a stinging sensation.

He shrugged and turned towards the door. The unit had been tested the day before and was in perfect working order, so he was in no hurry to try it out. He decided coffee was his most immediate need; he abandoned his usual stride and sauntered through the door instead.

Dr Chapaire sat at the reception desk in the sick bay, reading on the computer. She turned and said, “Is everything all right, Monsieur Brencher?”

He nodded and sketched a wave, then slipped out into the corridor. Hands thrust into his pockets, he mooched in the direction of the Mess. Once there he helped himself to coffee from the foodsynth machine recalibrated for human use. He relished every sip. It’s not often that I have nothing to do…

“Oh, you’re here!”

He turned.

Josie had a beaker of coffee in her hand. She wore a peach blouse and a pair of cream tapered slacks with turn-ups.

He beckoned her over and gestured to the chair opposite. “No classes today,” he murmured, and pointed to his throat. “There was a note on the comgrid.”

“I always forget to check,” she said, “but I remember you saying now.” She sat down opposite and regarded him. “Hardy, why have you had this done?”

“What difference does it make to you?” Then he frowned; that sounded rude, but he felt her disapproval like a tangible wave.

“None. It’s the difference it’ll make to you I’m concerned about,” she retorted.

“It will be beneficial in a combat situation,” he said. He felt a little defensive.

“Does it hurt?”

“It stings a bit,” he admitted. “But I think the benefits will outweigh any temporary discomfort.”

Josie shot him a disapproving glance. “You’re human, Hardy, not Zarduthi!” She indicated his clothes. “You even wear Zarduthi clothes now.”

“Ayar didn’t leave me much choice, seeing as I came aboard without a spare stitch!” he pointed out, and took another sip from his coffee, then pointed to his throat. “I think you disapprove because I have some electronic components inside me now, but if I were crippled and had to use implants to walk, would you disapprove of that?”

“I…guess not,” she admitted.

“I rest my case. And now – I’m supposed to rest my voice as well.”

---

CHAPTER 4 – A Significant Meeting

Control room, the Bekel, 415.261.4.25.760 AD/20^th August, 7.25 am.

IN THE SIMTANK, everything appeared serene. Ayar had expected to see hordes of Voth ships clustered above Declain, but the sky was empty. It aroused his suspicions. Perhaps they’ve picked up our trick of hiding among moons. “Sweep for all craft, any designation, especially among the moons,” he ordered, and brought up the 3-D holomap of the system on one side of the tank.

The Declaini star was blue-white, an A-type in the humans’ spectral classification scheme. The five inner planets lay scattered around it like balls on a playing-field. Most had their own satellite families. The simtank displayed the Declaini names for each planet or moon in Zarduthi script.

Declain was the second planet, with three satellites in an odd orbital configuration – one he was sure the Clan Bekel shirolli would have exploited. Even star-near Calphus had two small, well-baked moons. Beyond Declain and further out lay the Zeret-Khachav system. It resembled a large-scale version of Declain’s two interacting moons.

The simtank sweep showed Zeret and Khachav as they returned from the far side of the blue-white star. Their atmospheres were unbreathable due to the constant volcanic activity there, and they were surrounded by clouds of radioactive particles and strong magnetic fields.

Further out lay Skarris, a larger ball of dirt with a heavier atmosphere, seven satellites, and, Ayar judged, plenty of hiding-places for a determined foe. Or for us, he thought with a grim smile.

The two outermost planets, Lamaal and Heerish, he disregarded; they were gas giants that orbited too far from the target planet, and too slowly, to offer useful cover, although they each also had families of satellites. But both were currently on the far side of the star.

The sweep had been completed. [Seven ships located on Declain’s far side,] the computer told him. [One approaching, current position: beyond Heerish’s orbit.]

“Upscale by twenty percent and display.”

A space station jumped into existence above Declain. Its four arms provided berths for the Voth Crawler fleet, their solar sails furled until launch. There were gaps, but Ayar counted fourteen ships spread out along the arms. He knew a thousandth’s satisfaction that they had so far failed to acquire the hyperdrive, at least from his people, and requested an overview of the system and the location of the incoming ship.

[Incoming ship out of field of view at this scale.]

“Centre on incoming ship and exaggerate scale by twenty percent.” Ayar held his breath until the image appeared. The blackness of space cloaked it; but as it passed in front of Heerish, it took on some of the planet’s blue-green hue. Its seed shape was identical to that of the Bekel, and on the simtank it appeared as a white dot. Ayar expelled his breath and relaxed.

“Identify ship.”

[Unable to do so at this distance.]

“Upscale by ten percent.”

The mirror-hulled ship became large enough that Ayar could read the pictogram on its side. “Now what’s the Velakta doing here?” he muttered.

Eddie came to stand beside Ayar. “Same as us?”

“Somewhat late, I’d have thought!”

“So are we. Maybe they only just found out. Or maybe they were delayed, like we were.” Eddie peered past Ayar into the simtank. “After all, we don’t know that your people are here at all – it’s just the last location of the Bekel before she came to Earth.”

“True.” Ayar considered Eddie’s words for some thousandths, then said, “Slow us right down, Davan. Our people don’t take pleasure cruises, so the Velakta must be here for a reason. Skarris will block our transmissions from the Voth, and we can contact them without letting the Voth know we’re here. Take us in behind Skarris, Davan, and put us in orbit around its moon, Vardok – but stay ready to take us out of there at speed, if necessary.”

Eddie gave a thumbs-up as he crossed to his console.

Davan acknowledged the order with the usual palmraise.

Ayar fed co-ordinates into his nav-control column, then rose from his console couch. “Mokhimar – get the Velakta for me, will you?”

The view in the simtank changed to the Velakta’s control room. It was identical to the Bekel’s, if tidier. Two Zarduthi men could be seen; one enfolded by the command couch, while the other stood beside him. The expression on the second man’s face struck Ayar: it spoke of long suffering. But he had no time to follow that observation up. “Velakta, this is Ayar Dekkutz of the Bekel. Please respond.”

“Acknowledged, Ayar. This is Afdar Maavid of the Velakta.”

“Have Eren and his warriors left Declain?”

“I can’t answer that question for you. Why?”

“We’re trying to find them – we believe they may still be on-planet. Can we rendezvous to discuss strategy?”

“Indeed, Ayar. What had you in mind?”

“The Zeret-Khachav system’s approaching alignment with Declain would make an excellent temporary operational base. Zeret would block Declain for the next few days.”

“Good idea. Our E.T.A. is seventeen hundredths.”

“We’ll meet at Zeret then.”

“Acknowledged, Ayar.” The simtank emptied of Afdar Maavid’s holo-image.

Ayar exchanged a glance with Eddie and aligned his course to the new co-ordinates. He tried to quell the rise of anticipation and excitement – and anxiety – inside him. While the crew of the Velakta had no idea what had happened to the rest of the clan, he felt more hopeful now that the Bekel wasn’t the only Zarduthi ship in the area.

“Mokhimar, post a bulletin to Hardy and Edith to accompany me when we meet the Velakta. I’ll meet them in the shuttle bay at seventeen hundredths.”

Every time Ayar glanced at the time, the distance between the two ships had decreased. At seven and seven-fifty hundredths, Ayar excused himself. He gave Davan the Nav/Com and brought in Jafar as pilot since they’d both had the excellent JSEP pilot training. He returned to his quarters, washed, combed the close-cropped hair on his scalp-crest, and put on fresh clothing. He thrust the disruptor into his hip holster and left the room.

In the shuttle bay, he saw that Edith had a dressing at her throat and one peeped out from behind her ear. “Oh, good – you’ve had a translator fitted!”

Edith nodded. “As soon as I saw how successful Monsieur Brencher’s was I decided it would be sensible to have one. I know some Zarduthi, but no Kiai or Declaini, so I had it implanted with the catch flipped on for immediate use.”

“No problems with it?”

“None. I am fine. Oh, and Jafar is also going to have a translator fitted.”

“Excellent! Then let’s go.” Ayar led them to the nearest shuttle. Like the Bekel’s, its hull was mirrored. He and Eddie had got all five back into service condition when he’d arrived there from Russia. He hugged himself. I’ve been planning for this for such a long time!

He eased into the pilot’s seat and allowed it to enfold him. He needed an update on the presence of the Voth fleet, and any other hazards present. His fingers danced across the controls, bringing up shields to ward off the radiation and protect them from the magnetic fields that surrounded the Zeret-Khachav system. “Hardy, take the nav, but I’ll feed the data over to this console – you won’t have to do anything. Edith, you’re on life support.”

They obeyed.

“You’ll have to train me in this so I can help –” Hardy began.

“Not right now,” Ayar said. “I need to concentrate. But by all means watch what I do.” He switched on the commgrid link and brought up the whole-system view at a twenty percent upscale in the simtank. He checked all the systems before he turned to Davan and asked, “What have you got?”

“The Velakta is in position, awaiting our arrival. The Voth fleet hasn’t moved, though there is shuttle activity – maybe bringing supplies onboard?” Davan paused. “You’re cleared to leave, Ayar.”

“Thanks. Shulai.”

“Shulai, Ayar. Stay safe.”

The shuttle bay hatch opened as Davan spoke. Ayar lifted the shuttle and hoped he hadn’t forgotten everything he’d learned. But the humans had been so keen to get hold of the Zarduthi technology that they’d included some shuttle – and clanship – practice in his own training. Thank the stars for their acquisitiveness – it’s worked in my favour this time! Ayar thought. He eased the craft out through the hatch towards the stars. In the simtank the dot that marked his shuttle crept towards the Velakta and the orbit that kept her hidden behind Zeret.

The shuttle drew level with the clanship. The hatch was open; Ayar took the shuttle in. Thousandths later they were down on a spare turnpad.

When the shuttle bay had repressurised, Ayar opened the airlock and led Hardy and Edith out to meet Afdar and his companion.

Afdar gripped his thumb. “Shulai, Ayar,” he said, then indicated the man beside him. It was the same man who’d stood beside him in the control room. “This is Omol Fadaifa. The remnants of his clan are guesting with us. We picked them up from a planet they were stranded on for eleven years.”

Eleven years! Ayar stared at Omol as they clasped thumbs. “It’s eleven years since the Bekel left Declain, entered hyperspace, and ended up in the Earth system,” he said. “We were in the Long Sleep at the time – but perhaps you know what happened to my father and the rest of the clan?”

Omol spread his hands. “I’m sorry, Ayar. My ship was damaged, and then destroyed on our way to Declain to help the Bekel, so we couldn’t get here in time.”

Ayar felt a thousandth’s frustration, but Omol’s face showed such genuine regret that he squashed it down. “I’m so sorry to hear about your ship.” He indicated his companions. “This is Hardy Brencher, and Edith Chapaire, humans from the Earth system. All of us children grew up there.”

He watched in pleased surprise as Hardy offered the two Zarduthi clan leaders the thumbclasp, though Edith first tried a conventional human handshake, then fumbled over the Zarduthi greeting. “Sorry!” She giggled. The Zarduthi words from her translator’s voice synthesiser followed her own in English. It startled her. “It works!” she exclaimed.

“Of course,” Ayar smiled.

“Let’s go to my meeting-room,” Afdar suggested, “and have some refreshments.”

*

Afdar’s meeting-room, the Velakta, a few thousandths later.

Omol watched the “humans”, as Ayar had named them, with curiosity. He wondered about their precise connection with Ayar, since the male seemed at ease with the disruptor holstered at his hip while the female wore no weapons at all. Then again, her clothing was unfamiliar, in pastel shades that suggested a soothing quality about her personality, instead of the familiar combat leathers Hardy wore.

He’d seen Ayar’s eyes narrow at his inability to give him the information he needed. That bothered him, since the young man must have struggled to come to terms with events. But the humans look dependable, even allowing for the differences in body language – and Ayar must trust them, or they wouldn’t be here.

It was a short walk to the meeting room, which adjoined the control room. Even the male human was half a head shorter than Afdar and him; and the female was a full head shorter than the male, so their steps were slower than the Zarduthis’ stride.

Afdar led the way. Omol followed them all, and slowed down more than once to avoid a collision with the humans. Once in the meeting room, Afdar offered them all gerris-juice, but only Ayar accepted. “I’m not sure whether the humans can drink gerris-juice. We recalibrated some foodsynth machines onboard the Bekel to give them their kind of diet.”

“There are more of you onboard the Bekel?” Afdar asked.

“A few,” Edith replied. “I am a doctor –”

“Ai, karak!” Omol murmured.

“– and my investigations lead me to suspect we would be unable to digest gerris-juice. We do not have quite your cast-iron constitution!”

Afdar grinned his appreciation of the joke.

“And you, Hardy Brencher,” Omol said, turning to the human male. “Are you also a healer?”

“Not me!” he said. “I was assigned to the children by JSEP and the Earth World Government. My brief is security – specifically, anything to do with the security of Ayar and his friends.”

“Vudak,” Ayar supplied. “He saved my life.”

A warrior, then, Omol thought. No wonder he seems at ease with the disruptor.

Hardy’s facial expression changed as he heard the description that played through his translator. But Omol couldn’t decide what his emotional response was.

“If we’ll deal with the humans more often,” Afdar commented, “it would seem sensible to recalibrate at least one foodsynth machine for them. I feel uncomfortable at not being able to offer at least a drink.”

“I can show you how to do this,” Edith offered.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

He got up and beckoned her over to the machines.

Omol watched as Edith opened the access panel and altered some settings. The delay gave him the opportunity to study Ayar and Hardy in more detail. Ayar was impatient to begin, his high forehead creased and his manner restless. Omol couldn’t blame him. I’d feel the same in the circumstances. By contrast, Hardy stood in a relaxed stance. Omol regarded him with curiosity. The pallid hair contrasted with his brown-pink skin, and his eyes reminded him of pale glass, unlike Zarduthi eyes. Below his left eye was a semi-circular scar. The mark of a warrior, Omol reflected.

“Where was this planet you were marooned on?” Ayar asked.

Omol spread his hands. “I don’t know if it had a name, but we called it Zero. It was out beyond Kiai. It was arid but cold – with a brown dwarf for its star.”

Thousandths later, Edith returned to the table with two steaming cups of what she named “coffee”, and put one before Hardy.

“What happened to your ship?” Ayar asked Omol.

“The Declaini contacted Eren for help after the Voth arrived there. Eren called us for back-up, and we made a jump, but as we exited hyperspace just outside the Declaini system, Voth crawlers surrounded us. We destroyed all but one, but their missiles damaged the Kazid and they boarded us. We were near this planet, so I sent everyone to it and destroyed the ship so the Voth couldn’t take it –”

“I’m so sorry,” Ayar interrupted.

Omol nodded at his acknowledgement. “I couldn’t let them get hold of the Kazid so we left in the shuttles, and destroyed all the Voth crawlers and the ship.” Omol’s mouth tightened. “Only – one shuttle didn’t make it – it was damaged – in the blast.”

“That’s terrible. Do you need cabin space?” Ayar asked. “I’m not sure how many of our clan are still alive – all the shirolli were killed by the Voth, including my mother Rilla, so it’s a fair bet that not all of our vudaki are still alive.”

“How many of you are there aboard the Bekel at present, Ayar?” asked Afdar.

“Thirty-three Zarduthi, four under or on adult age, plus one young human child and seven human adults. We have plenty of space at present, though that might change after we go to Declain.” Ayar made a throwaway gesture. “But I’m sure Eren would make space for some of you aboard, even if he had a full complement of crew.”

“Thank you. I know he would, too.” Omol’s voice came out very low. “But tell me, Ayar, what’s happened to you? I don’t really understand how you made such close contact with the humans.” He cast another glance at Hardy and Edith as he spoke. Their faces were expressionless.

So he listened as Ayar explained everything: how he’d woken up in the Big Place (“Reception Centre,” Edith supplied) and how all the children had been sent to different countries to live. How he’d wanted to join the army on Earth and they’d refused him, how the Neoluddites had kidnapped him, and Hardy had rescued him, and how he’d made the decision to share technology with the Earth people because their planet was next in line from Kiai.

“I don’t want the Earth to be invaded,” Ayar said. “Granted, they haven’t always treated us as we’d want, but I wouldn’t wish the Voth on them. Hardy says the President at the time was a bit of a power freak. There’s another man in charge now who’s more sympathetic to us and our needs, which is what made me decide to co-operate with them. He made it possible for me to join their space programme, and I learned what I needed to know to come back for my parents. They have the hyperdrive now.”

“You let them have it?” Omol was horrified, and from his expression, so was Afdar. But Ayar was young, and he supposed it had seemed the best thing to do at the time.

“They’ll need it to defend themselves against the Voth, if we don’t succeed.”

“I suppose so. But you know we don’t share our technology –”

“My clan is most likely marooned on Declain. I had to make important decisions,” Ayar said. “There was nobody else to help the clan. Omol was grounded on his way here, but where was every other clan? Fighting in unimportant skirmishes when our clan faced creatures that don’t even think much like us! I did it so we could come to Declain and find our parents – eventually.”

“He’s right, and besides, Ayar traded some technology for better conditions for all the children,” Hardy pointed out. “Edith and I wanted them kept together while they grew up, but we weren’t in charge. So Ayar did the sensible thing and made a trade.”

The translation sounded strange, but Omol followed the sense of it. Hardy must truly have the spirit of a Zarduthi, to understand our trade principles. He warmed to him.

“That enabled him to negotiate astronaut training for himself and the other children, which is why he’s here now,” Hardy continued. “If not for that, we might not be here now.”

Afdar looked from Hardy to Ayar, and his eyes showed understanding of the situation and new respect for Ayar. And Omol’s own initial horror at transgression of a basic rule of living faded into acceptance.

“But I’m curious to know, Afdar,” Hardy said, “what your ship is doing in the area, since we expected to be the only ones here.”

“Is he –” Afdar began to ask Ayar, indicating Hardy at the same time.

“Hardy and Edith are equal partners with me,” Ayar said and explained the situation with regard to the humans in his crew and their position with JSEP.

“Tangar and I used the simtank to zoom in on a planet where we thought you could be, while we were marooned,” Omol said. “We thought you might have been berthed at a space station.”

“That would be Galatea Station,” Ayar said, with a nod.

“Once we left, I realised I had skills which could help Ayar achieve his goals of finding his father and the other vudaki, and freeing Declain if possible, so I’ve thrown in my lot with him.” Hardy raised his shoulders, and spread his hands at the same time. Perhaps Ayar tutored him in Zarduthi body language, Omol thought, though the hybrid gesture looked odd. “So…how come you were in the area?”

“We came to investigate the disappearance of the Bekel. We had no idea what had happened, but we thought Declain was a good place to start.”

“Hmm, I’d have done just the same,” Hardy commented.

“But this business of deserting the Earth space forces –?”

Ayar explained. “But I couldn’t just let the opportunity to take the ship and go find my father and the rest of the clan pass by. Another chance might not have come for years. So now I’m wanted for desertion, and all the others with me.”

“The penalty is court-martial and possibly death by firing squad,” Hardy added.

“But it was wrong for the humans to keep you on Earth in the first place.”

“What else could we do?” Edith put in. “They were just children, and most humans love children and want to bring them up in safety and comfort, so that they grow up independent, confident and able to cope with just about anything –”

“You certainly did that!” Ayar grinned.

“We knew nothing of the war between the Voth and the Zarduthi,” Edith said.

“And we made the best of what the humans had to offer.”

Afdar put out his hands in a warding gesture of disapproval. “I’m sure I don’t know what I would say about all this if you were my son, Ayar.”

Ayar spread his hands. “Well, I don’t know what my father will say, or Eren Gharm either, but the important thing for now is to find them. Will you work with me?”

“No question of that,” Afdar replied. “Omol?”

“Of course, since we’re here.” Omol knew he must speak for his clan, and perhaps for the last time. “We’ll decide what to do about this desertion problem later. As Ayar says, finding out what happened to clan Bekel is vital, and if we kill a few Voth in the process, so much the better!”

“Yes, now, the Voth,” Afdar said. “We think they knew Omol’s ship was in the area, perhaps because of their shared consciousness.”

“How could that have been so?” Ayar asked. “I know they killed several clan members on Kiai, but Omol had only just arrived.”

“You’d have been too young to go on-planet,” Omol guessed.

“Zooch, and still so at Declain, by less than a hundred days.” Ayar’s face twisted into a frown.

“Just as well,” Omol said. “Otherwise the clan would have no-one to rescue them.”

Ayar brightened. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“We think,” Afdar continued, “that Voth parthenogenesis is more than just a way to produce reinforcements. It could be a method of storing or transferring information. If so, it would explain why Eren and Omol lost the element of surprise, and the Voth boarded both ships.” He gave a voice command and a recording played. “Watch this.”

Omol had seen the recording before; it had come from his ship.

“Zarduthi warcraft!” grated the Voth commander. “Surrender ship immediately or Voth will fire.”

Omol saw his holoimage step forward. “I am the commander of this ship. Let us pass and we will do you no harm.”

“You are in no position to bargain, Zarduthi. Surrender the ship or Voth fires!”

“If you seek glory, Commander, you must give me time to consider –”

“Voth does not seek glory,” the creature interrupted him. “Zarduthi has until the continent on the planet nearby disappears from view.”

“Notice how the Voth refers to itself, and others?” Afdar said. “Now watch this.”

The view in the simtank changed to that of a room in a Kiai Hold. Stumpy Voth filled it, but a single Kiai Holdlord and a single Zarduthi stood on a daïs at one end with one huge Voth. Soot clung to every surface in the room, Omol remembered, along with the identity of the Zarduthi: Afdar’s father, Navayn Maavid. The resemblance between them was clear.

The view closed in on the two warriors on the daïs: dirty, weary and battle-stained, and the Kiai wore an expression that no Zarduthi who had served battle duty would fail to recognise: defeat. Everything about him drooped, even the crest that rose from his forehead. His mouth hung open.

“Speak,” prompted the Voth on the daïs.

The Kiai roused himself and cast a glance of despair at the destruction around him. Finally he spoke. “I am Kavai Restiq, Holdlord of Rupa District. I formally surrender my lands, goods and Castrates to the Voth conquerors, may my people forgive me.” He met the eyes of the Zarduthi beside him. “And I formally release the Zarduthi from their arrangement to fight for and beside myself and my troops to repel the invading forces.”

The Zarduthi had no chance to reply before the Voth added, “And if Voth encounters Zarduthi again, Voth will destroy them. Zarduthi is fortunate that Voth spares them to convey this message to Zarduthi clans to stop their meddling.”

Navayn Maavid stood his ground. “A Zarduthi gives his oath in sincerity and the intent to fulfil –”

A pseudopod snaked out from between parted plates on the large Voth, wrapped itself around Navayn’s forearm. Viscous brown goop oozed from pores on the thing. Even as Navayn tried to pull away, the blend of acids and alkalis in the digestive gel dissolved his leather sleeve before his eyes, then the bared skin below it. The feeding pseudopod slurped the gel and its contents up. Within a few thousandths, all that remained was a bloody stump like a lump of raw meat, with a knob of bone that poked out of it. Purple blood pumped from the wound to soak the daïs.

The Voth withdrew its pseudopod and the armour plates closed over it. Only a bump remained where it had been, and even that disappeared within thousandths.

Navayn staggered to the edge of the dais and clambered down amongst the Voth.  They reached to his waist; he pushed them aside with elbows held akimbo. He shielded the injured forearm with his good hand and vainly sought to stem the flow of blood as he walked. He said nothing, and the Voth were also silent.

“Voth observes that Zarduthi speak to communicate, like Kiai. Return to Zarduthi people and give message,” the Voth grated behind him.

The view faded.

“My father returned to the Velakta in time to die of blood loss and liquefactive necrosis from the caustic burns. In his pocket was this holovid clip, given to him by a Kiai, under Voth orders, as he left the room. I succeeded to his command. That was eleven and a half years ago.” Afdar’s face held no expression, but his jaw tightened. “But it tells us that the Voth don’t need speech to communicate.”

“Do they use hyperspace communications or radio?” Hardy asked. “Can we listen in on them?”

“They use both,” Afdar answered. “We gave the Kiai hyperspace comms, but the Voth acquired them when they enslaved the remnants of the Kiai forces.”

“And they use voice synthesisers to communicate with the Kiai and us.” Edith drained her coffee, then made a face. “Cold.” She sighed. “I wish I had known there was a Voth onboard the Bekel when it was found, and that I had been able to get a look at it.”

“You captured one?” Afdar looked impressed.

“Our exploratory party discovered a dead Voth on the Bekel when it was brought to Earth for salvage,” Hardy said. “One of our scientists dissected part of it, and found that the only cells the creatures have that are differentiated are the armour and hair cells.” He pointed to the simtank cube at the centre of the table.

“I saw it,” Ayar said in a low voice. “But even Dr Kobayashi – Chan’s foster-father – wasn’t able to find out much about it when he examined tissue samples.” His features knotted in thought. “He said its internal cells were undifferentiated. Oh, and its DNA was really strange – he didn’t think it reproduced sexually because its chromosomes weren’t arranged in pairs.”

“So…every cell carries the same information?” Afdar suggested.

“That’s the implication.”

“Ah, that is very interesting,” Edith said. “It would support the idea that these things do not reproduce sexually, and the undifferentiated cells mean each cell has an identical function – or functions.” She looked at Afdar. “We know they can extrude pseudopods for various purposes, but if undifferentiated cells make up the internal parts, perhaps, when they reproduce, the memory of the Voth ‘parent’ is carried into the ‘baby’. So the DNA is used for information storage…”

“And for all we know they may not even reproduce to continue the species.”

“What other purposes are we talking about here?” asked Hardy. “Like carrying messages? We know from the clips of the boarding of the Bekel that they create instant beings, and use them to enter rooms and suchlike.”

“You have holovid of their reproduction?”

“Yes,” said Ayar, “but it makes for unpleasant watching.”

“Even so, I would be interested to see it.”

“Me too, but consider this,” Omol said. “If what you suggest is true, once separated from the ‘parent’ the ‘baby’ must amass its own information through what happens to it. How does it get that information to another Voth, if that becomes necessary? Do they amalgamate again? Or just reproduce a new population and destroy the old one so every Voth has up-to-date information?”

“We don’t know,” Afdar said. “But that clip tells us they originally assumed that because they share collective consciousness, every other species must do as well – and that they’ve learned that was wrong.”

“Pity!” Hardy commented. “Otherwise we might have another effective weapon against them, along with the disruptors.”

Afdar turned to Hardy.  “My friend, you think like a Zarduthi strategist.”

Hardy grinned to acknowledge the compliment. “But there might still be weapons we could use against them. For instance we might be able to alter the information they have been programmed with through their learning experiences. But we need more information about them, and I don’t for the life of me see how we can get that unless we capture some. And how do we do that?”

“It’s not possible to do it safely,” Afdar said.

Ayar’s face was a study in concentration. “I’ve just remembered something else. The oddest thing of all about that Voth was that the mathematical basis of its genetic code was completely different from ours.”

“Yes,” Edith observed, “and the proteins are different in the Voth.”

“That suggests it’s not from this bubble universe,” Afdar said slowly. “It would make it impossible, or at least difficult, to trace the Voth homeworld.”

*

Marines’ quarters, Challenger II, 20^th August, two hours later.

Chas Lawton stroked the dampened cloth with methodical movements over his boots. But he knew only the smallest satisfaction as the shine on them became smoother and richer. The growing turmoil inside him overshadowed all other emotion.

Around him, the other marines prepared in similar manner for the coming assignment.

“What’s up, soldier?” Olga Varishkova asked.  “You’ve been looking distracted ever since we left Earth.”

Chas sighed. “I love my job normally, but I feel a conflict of interests just now,” he admitted after a pause.

“Because Mil is your foster-son?”

“Yes. He could be killed if we have to fire on the Bekel.”

Olga Varishkova snorted. “The Zarduthi children have deserted, and taken a ship with them. The penalty is clear, and they knew that when they left.”

“Olga – Olga! Mil is just a child. He hasn’t even finished his education, and certainly never signed up with JSEP.”

“Then think yourself lucky he is a child. The others are fair game for JSEP, but at the end of the pursuit, he won’t face charges. All the rest will – along with some renegade humans.”

“And besides, why pursue them? For the ship or for the children? Because the ship is rightfully theirs.”

Olga Varishkova shrugged. “There is that. Still –”

The siren interrupted her.

“Get ready, everyone!” she called.

Everyone pulled on boots and belted on their weapons. In the simtank in the corner of the dormitory a view of the Bridge appeared. Red Hempel had command of the Challenger II, and overall command of the flotilla. As Chas laced up his boots he caught a glimpse of her flame-red hair, swept into a severe French pleat. Everyone quieted as she spoke.

“Attention, all crew and marines! This message is being patched through to all three ships simultaneously via hyperspace communications. We’ve spotted a Zarduthi ship in the Declaini system, and are about to enter pursuit at high speed. Once within range, a challenge will be given.

“If unanswered, we will engage in battle with it. The aim is to board the ship and take all the Zarduthi children onboard alive to face charges of desertion and treason against Earth on our return. Set weapons to stun only!” She drew a deep breath. “If successful in our mission – the first use of these hyperspace ships – there is great honour to be accrued on our return to Earth.

“So all crew and marines are required to follow protocols immediately and efficiently. Marines will remain ready for boarding duties. Our estimated time of rendezvous with the Bekel is two hours and fifty-five minutes. Be ready.”

At least that answered one of Chas’ questions, and he knew relief that the stun gun in his left hip holster was to be used instead of the disruptor in his right.

*

Control room of the Bekel, on Ayar’s return, Eighth.

“Rel – status of broadcast monitoring in this area?”

“Some interference from the powerful interacting magnetic fields of Zeret and Khachav, but not a serious problem. But I’ve picked up broadcasts from the Voth fleet near the limb of Khachav.”

“What are they saying?”

Rel switched the console’s translator on and allowed it to play through the simtank amplifier. “It’s in Kiai. They’re loading supplies for a major push,” he summarised, “heading for Haveertel.”

“Then we may need to stop them before they get there.”

“There won’t be time for that if we’re to take out the Voth here.”

More of the clicking and hissing Kiai speech issued into the control room.

Hardy listened with his head atilt. “At least the Kiai use hyperspace comms instead of lasercomms – we can pick them up but they can’t do the same to us.”

[Prepare for departure.]

Ayar’s translator echoed the computer. “Weapons Control status?”

“Ready,” Hardy answered.

“Keep disruptors powered up and force shields in place.” Ayar ordered a sweep for all craft in the area. In the simtank, their position nestled beside the Velakta between Zeret and Khachav, while the Voth fleet hovered over Declain. He detected movement at the outermost edge of the star system.

“What’s that?” asked Eddie, from the engineer’s console. He pointed into the simtank.

“Just checking,” Ayar said. “It could be Vagar and the Kemeen. Computer, upscale twenty percent.” Beyond Heerish’s orbit, and past the Kemeen, a black seed-like craft rolled through space, revolving on its axis, visible only as an inky blot against the stars of the Milky Way in the background. “Centre on incoming ship and exaggerate scale by ten percent.”

The simtank view of that seed magnified. On its side the bright blue, square letters of the JSEP logo jumped into closer focus. Alongside that lay the name: Challenger II. Behind it followed two identical black craft with cobalt blue markings.

Ayar had forgotten about JSEP. His heart jolted in his chest, and for a thousandth his eyes and ears refused to function at all.

He didn’t hear Eddie cross the control room floor to stand beside him. “It’s them – they’re after us –” Ayar regarded Eddie. He accepted his presence as, long ago, he’d accepted his friendship. “We’re bottled up between the Voth and your people, Eddie,” he said.