PART 2

Peripatetic's Log:

Stratos Mission:

Arrival + 40.957 Ms

The founders of this colony chose an excellent site to conceal their Utopia. Partly hidden by dust nebulae, orbiting a strange multiple-star system where most explorers would not bother looking for habitable worlds . . . Stratos must have seemed ideal to isolate their descendants from the strife and ferment raging elsewhere in the galaxy.

Yet, the Enemy eventually found them. And now, so have I. …

It is a testament to their fierce independence that they never tried calling for help when the foe-ship came. The people of Stratos simply fought the Enemy, and won. The colonists have reason to be proud. Without direct aid from the Human Phylum, they countered a surprise attack and annihilated the invaders. Their victory has become the stuff of legends, altering their social structure even while seeming to validate it.

They claim this ratifies their secession, obviating any need for alliance with distant cousins.

So far, in conversations from ship to ground, I've refrained from citing our records, which mention that very same foe-ship, describing it as a broken ruin, fleeing the Battle of Taranis to lick its wounds or die. Stratos has never sampled the full terror stalking the stars. Even in ignorance, it has benefited from protection by the Phylum. No part lives but in reliance on the others.

This will not be an easy concept to impart, I fear. Some of these Herlandist radicals seem to find my arrival more traumatic than that of the Enemy, so long ago. An affront to be ignored if possible.

What do their leaders fear from renewed contact with distant kin?

Negotiations for my long-delayed landing are done at last. They assure me of facilities adequate to launch my aeroshell back into orbit when the visit is completed, so there's no need to go auto-mine an asteroid and build an ungainly, all-purpose craft. Tomorrow I descend to start discussions in person.

I have never been so nervous before a mission. This sub-species has much to offer. Their bold experiment may enrich humanity. Too bad, as chance had it, they were rediscovered by a male peripatetic.

The omens might have been better were I a woman.

13

Maia was soon disoriented in the stealthy dash through dark corridors and down unlit stairs. Kiel, who led the way, kept rushing ahead and then causing a bump and jostle each time she stopped abruptly to use a small penlight, consulting a hand-drawn map.

"Where did you get that?" Maia whispered at one point, pointing at the vellum diagram.

"A friend worked on the digging crew. Now be quiet."

Maia took no offense. A few gruff words were nothing compared to what else Kiel and Thalia had done. Maia's heart was full to bursting that her friends had come all this way, at untold risks, to rescue her.

And Renna, she reminded herself. As they hurried through the gloomy halls, she tried not to look at the person she had just seen for the first time, whom she had beforehand thought she knew so well. A creature from outer space. Perhaps sensing her discomfort, Renna hung a few paces behind. Maia felt irritated with him, and with herself, that her feelings were so obvious. "Is he telling the truth?" she whispered to Thalia, as Kiel consulted her map again near a meeting of two vast, unlit dormitory chambers. "About being . . . you know?"

Thalia shrugged. "Never know with males. Always goin' on about their travels. Maybe this one's been farther than most."

Maia wanted to believe Thalia's nonchalance. "You must have suspected something when you picked up the radio message."

"What radio message?" Thalia asked. As Kiel motioned them forward again, Maia found her confusion redoubling. She pursued whispered questions as they walked.

"If you didn't get a message, how did you find us?".

"Wasn't easy, virgie. Day after they took you, we tried following the trail. Seemed to be takin' you east, but then a big gang of sisters from Keally Clan rode up and drove us off. By the time we circled round, the tracks were cold. Turns out they pulled a switch over by Flake Rock, so it wasn't east, after all."

Maia shook her head. She had been unconscious or delirious during most of the ride out from Lerner Hold, so she had no idea how long it had taken.

Thalia grinned. The tall woman's pale face was barely visible in the reflection of Kiel's swaying beam off stone walls. "Finally, we got wind o' this Beller creature, comin' upland with an escort. Kiel had a hunch they might be headin' for this abandoned site. We got some friends together an' managed to tag along out o' sight. An' here we are."

Thalia made it sound so simple. In fact, it must have involved a lot of sacrifice, not to mention risk. "Then you didn't come just for … him?" Maia jerked her head backward, toward the one taking up the rear. Thalia grimaced.

"Ain't a man a man? It'll drive the Perkies crazy he's gone, though. Reason enough to take him, at least till the coast. There he can join his own kind."

In the dark, Maia could not read Thalia's features. The woman's tone was tense and perhaps she wasn't telling the whole truth. But the message was sufficient. "You came for me, after all."

Thalia reached over as they walked, giving Maia's shoulder a squeeze. "What are var-buddies for? Us against a Lysos-less world, virgie."

It was like a line from that adventure book Maia had read, about stalwart summer women forging a new world out of the ruins of a brittle, broken yesterday. Suddenly, Kiel interrupted with a sharp hiss. Their guide covered her light and motioned for quiet. Silently, almost on tiptoe, they joined her near an intersection, where their dim corridor crossed another one, more brightly lit. Kiel cautiously leaned out to peer left, then right. Her breath cut short.

"What is it?" the man asked, catching up from behind, his voice carrying startlingly. Thalia's hand made a chopping sign and he said no more. Standing still, they could hear faint sounds — a clinking, a low rattle, voices rising briefly, then fading to a low murmur. Kiel moved her hands to pantomime that there were people in sight, some distance down the cross corridor.

What now? Maia worried, a tightness in her throat. Clearly Kiel's map was incomplete. Would it offer an alternate route? Was there enough time?

To Maia's surprise, Kiel did not motion for them to turn around. Instead, she took a deep breath, visibly braced herself, and stepped boldly into the light!

Maia knew it was only her dark-adapted eyes overreacting. Still, when Kiel entered the wan illumination of the hallway, it was as if she had briefly gone aflame. How could anyone not notice such a shining presence?

But no one did. The older var glided smoothly across the exposed area without a sound, reentering darkness in safety on the other side. There was no change in the mutter of conversation. Thalia took the next turn, trying to imitate Kiel's liquid, silent stride. Sudden reflection off her pale skin seemed even more glaringly impossible to ignore, lasting two ponderously long seconds. Then she, too, was across.

Maia glanced at the man, Renna, who smiled and touched her elbow, urging her to go ahead. It was a friendly gesture, an expression of confidence, and Maia briefly hated him for it. She could just make out the two women, dim figures across the bright intersection, also waiting for her. To Maia, her own heartbeat sounded loud enough to echo off the rocky walls. She got a grip on herself, flaring her nostrils, and stepped forward.

Time seemed to telescope, fractional seconds stretching into subjective hours. Maia's distant feet moved on their own, freeing her to glance right toward a searing image of bracketed flamelight … of broken furniture burning in a chiseled fireplace, while silhouetted figures drank from goblets, leaning over to watch the arcing fall of dice onto a wooden table. Their cries made Maia's skin crawl.