Damia's Children (25 page)

Food will be provided: Hivers are vegetarians and an ample selection is being installed. The Rowan's working on that right now with both Human and 'Dini biologists and botanists. If no indication is shown of tending
the crops, it's easy enough to resupply. They can make what they like of the buildings: they're all empty and all exit locks are being sealed. The only way in or out will be by 'portation. Fortunately Hivers are also dependent on oxygen and it's doubtful if there'd be the Hiver equivalent of space-suits aboard a pod.

Aren't there going to be guards, or scientists or something?
Rojer couldn't help but ask.

Not in situ, Rojer
, his grandfather said just when Rojer thought he'd get a scolding from his mother for blurting that out.
Remote sensors are all over the facility. That's one reason it was chosen. The 'Dinis have nothing comparable anywhere and we can provide their experts with laboratories, scanners, and whatever diagnostic or screening instrumentation they need. Our science has not been on the defensive mode as long as the 'Dinis' has.

The images faded.

Sir, what if that pod has communits ‘n' things?

Jeff Raven chuckled.
Quick lad. It took the High Council a lot longer to ask that. Truth is, Rojer, where would a comm signal go now that their homeworld's rubble? The 'Dinis assure us that there are no nearby Hive worlds. They aren't a species that clubs together for protection as we and the 'Dinis do. Each Hive world is apparently autonomous. The only suitable planets they won't attack are ones already colonized by their species. Unless—which the best of the experts agree is unlikely—they have some sort of integral communication
 . . .

They couldn't be telepaths, could they?

Don't
interrupt your grandfather
, his mother said sternly.

He's a member of the mission, Damia, he has the right to ask questions. They've been good ones. No,
Rojer, there is no evidence of telepathy beyond what your grandmother and other Denebian women “felt” which many say was a mass precognition or premonition of tremendous danger. More that, than a thought transference. I think it's reasonably safe to say that no interstellar communication was ever developed. However, the monitors about the compound are extremely sensitive and will record the most minor variations. The underground units have clocked solar winds and monitored even the slightest coronal flares. I think the creatures will be safely contained.

There's also a very handy and hot sun in case of emergency
, his grandmother said in a voice that sent shivers down Rojer's spine.

Any other questions?
Jeff asked.

Rojer shook his head, mentally as well as physically.

We'll be ready as soon as we've changed, Jeff
, Afra said and paused.
Xexo's got the generators up.

Rojer remembered his manners and wished his grandparents a good day.

That's a few hours off right now, lad, but I accept the thought.

Rojer wondered if Grandfather had really meant
that.

Father loves to pun
, his mother said, her tone amused so Rojer realized that he hadn't embarrassed her.

Then he, Gil, and Kat made a dash for the bathroom and did very thorough jobs of cleansing themselves. Afra came in just as Rojer had finished, with a single suit of navy blue over his arm. He was dressed in a similar outfit, and there was an unusual twinkle in his eyes. It occurred to Rojer that his father was going to enjoy this break from
routine just as much as he was and he grinned at that perception.

It is sometimes very beneficial to do something different.
Afra tossed the single suit at him.
Wear your Tower shoes. The Navy gets annoyed if you scar their planking or decking or whatever the term is for their floors.

When they came back into the living room, Zara was cheerful, too, as she and Morag were clearing the dining table with their 'Dinis. Rojer rather thought Morag was trying very hard
not
to look envious or resentful.

“I'll ride Saki while you're gone. She needs the exercise,” Morag said, watching to see his reaction.

“I appreciate the offer, Morrie,” he said with great dignity, “but we're not going to be gone more than a day.”

“You didn't ride her yesterday, you know.” Trust Morag to keep track.

“So you'll ride her first thing tomorrow morning,” his mother said and Morag rolled her eyes and turned to her chore, “
then
you'll do Tower duty. With my top Talents off gallivanting about the galaxy, we gals have to prove we can stand in with no trouble at all.”

Zara looked as if she'd been offered a summer on Deneb with that silly cousin she adored, but Morag tossed Rojer a “so-who-needs-you” look. He didn't need his mother's quick glance to know he'd better not react to that blatant challenge.

Then in the next breath, it was time to go. Gil lost its favorite belt and when that was found, Kat started drinking bowls of water until Fok stopped that, and hauled Kat off to drain.

They got to the Tower and into the capsule well
before the end of the hour. Rojer settled himself, strapping Gil and Kat in on either side, both squirming like eels, as the generators built. His father was last in and then Keylarion herself closed the hatch.

Ready?
His mother sounded so cool and businesslike.
Just remember
, and suddenly her voice wasn't so sure: to his astonishment, she seemed to catch herself back, but continued,
just remember that your father links first, Rojer.

He knew what she meant and why her voice had suddenly altered.

You've drilled me well enough in that protocol, Mother. Have no fear!

Even through the stout metal walls of the personnel carrier, he heard the exact moment when the generators reached the peak note. He didn't feel motion—but then he never did when his mother or father 'ported. He did feel a subtle alteration in the pressure of 'portation.

He's clever, this one, Jeff
, said his grandmother and Rojer realized that his mother had handed over the 'port to Callisto Prime.

The pressure increased and he felt his father's fingers squeeze his hand. He turned his head and grinned, saw his father grin back and then the pressure went away. Outside the capsule were distinct noises, metallic clangings, shouts, orders.

Someone politely rapped on the hatch. “You all right in there, sirs?”

“Indeed we are.”

The hatch opened and an older man looked in, then braced himself and saluted. “Chief Petty Officer Godowlning, Mister Lyons sir! Captain Smelkoff's compliments. He's on his way here but
you sure made it in a hurry,” he added in a less formal tone.

Rojer tried not to gawk and turned to release the straps on his 'Dinis who began to snicker.

GOOD DAY. GOOD DREAMS
? Godowlning said in understandable but oddly accented 'Dini and that set both of them clittering and clattering.

“Thank you!” Rojer said, not knowing the proper way to address a chief petty officer. He should have listened to Thian's maunderings about naval protocol and stuff.

“T'ank oo,” Gil replied in its best Basic.

Godowlning's broad pinkish face was graced by a jovial smile, showing yellowish but even teeth.

THE SHIP WELCOMES MRDINI GUESTS
and the Chief got that sentence out with the concentration of one who has rote learned phrases and was not really thinking in the language. But thinking in 'Dini, as Rojer well knew, was not easy to achieve.

“You don't know how pleased they are to hear 'Dini, Chief Godowlning,” Afra said, rising up from the carrier.

“Your son was giving lessons, Prime, and I took as many as I could,” the chief said and then, hearing new voices, turned. Rojer could see his shoulders ease with relief. “Here's the captain.” He leaned conspiratorially toward Afra, a tableau that made Rojer grin. His father was long and lean and the chief rather short—Rojer was taller—and as rotund as regulations allowed. He turned now and braced again. “Captain, sir, the Primes have arrived.”

“For the record, chief,” Afra said in a low voice as the captain hurried to the cradle, “I'm not the Prime. My son is. I'm T-2.”

The chief gave Rojer a worried look but Rojer smiled at him as he'd often seen his mother smile at skeptics and bent to help Gil and Kat from the carrier.

“I say, Mr. Lyon . . . Misters Lyon,” and Smelkoff corrected himself with a genial laugh that echoed in the big shuttle bay, “you are prompt to the second. Caught me still on the bridge. But we've auxiliary screens here so you can see what we've salvaged.”

He was then close enough and extended his hand.

One shake is only polite. Shield
, Afra told his son as he followed his own instructions.

Rojer complied but noticed the surprised look on the Chief's face. Their acquiescence to the courtesy did much to raise them in his estimation. Talents rarely allowed casual contacts but to have refused the forgetful captain would have been impolite.

Remember that
, Afra said.

“So you're the Prime, are you, boy? This your first official act?”

“No, sir, I've been on Tower duty since I was twelve.” Rojer could “feel” his father listening hard and
not
reminding him to be properly modest about his abilities. “All of us do Tower time. But my father
is
the focus, not me. He's got to guide. I'm the grunt.”

Rojer heard someone's politely muffled guffaw but he could also sense his father's approval, and that the captain was totally reassured.

“That wasn't how Earth Prime described your separate talents, young Mr. Lyon, but whatever gets that pod where it's safe . . .” Only the two Talents
were aware of how nervous and vulnerable he felt, even with the pod towed kilometers behind the
Beijing.
Outwardly the captain was relaxed, assured, and exuding an air of authority and competence. “This way . . .” and he led them to the companionway leading up to the control room. “Commander Strai, my Chief Engineer, is waiting for you in case you need to know anything about our engines.”

“I understand from reports sent back by Isthian Lyon on the
Vadim
that we'll have no problem gestalting the
Beijing'
s engines. More power than we'd ever need.”

“You
are
Mr. Lyon's father, then,” the captain said conversationally.

“Yes.”

“And you're his brother, young Mister Lyon.”

“Yes sir,” and Rojer couldn't suppress how proud he was of Thian. “We're a long-tailed clan,” he added because the captain was telling himself not to babble: there was only one Talent family named Lyon, and they were kin to the Earth and Callisto Primes. “I've half a dozen cousins serving on Capella in various Towers.”

“Do you so?” the captain continued, feeling less gauche. Rojer couldn't help read his public thoughts: the man's apprehension left him wide open. Rojer did ignore Smelkoff's fears that the kid didn't
look
that young, with that white streak of hair, but he couldn't be very old or he'd already be Towered somewhere, since FT&T could use a hundred Primes and still have vacancies. Couldn't the senior Lyon have handled the 'portation by himself? He had a very competent, experienced look, the sort a man could trust, even if he was
Talented. T-2? That wasn't much under a Prime. Oh, well, FT&T knew what it was doing. He hoped.

“Misters Lyon,” and the captain gave his Engineering Officer a broad and genial grin as they entered the control room, “meet Commander Strai. He rigged the tow in jig time! Neatest job I've ever seen.”

Commander Strai, a keen-eyed man with rusty-red hair, gave the two Talents a crisp and respectful bow, and then swung round to the two comformable seats that looked out of place in the room. “Thought these might help.”

“Very kind of you, Commander,” Afra said and motioned for the 'Dinis to stand in one corner.

MAY DREAMS BE DEEP
, the Commander said to them, again surprising the Lyons.

“Does everyone speak some 'Dini on the
Beijing
?” Afra asked, smiling his surprise.

“Seemed silly not to take advantage of the opportunity, Mr. Lyon,” Strai said as he keyed codes and the screens above the console lit up.

At the sight of the Hiver sphere, apparently just sitting in space, Rojer caught his breath but then so did his father so he didn't feel he had betrayed too much surprise.

“Any idea what the hull is made of?” Afra asked after a moment's pause.

“Still analyzing. It's a highly sophisticated alloy but with an ingredient we can't identify,” Smelkoff said.

“One of my lieutenants thinks it's a coating of some kind, maybe even something the Hivers secrete from their bodies,” Strai said. “Doesn't even
pit, so it's remarkable the other pod was destroyed.”

“I wonder they released the pods at all,” Afra said, “if they knew the nova was about to happen.” Then he added more briskly, “We'll need your mass and volume figures, gentlemen. I think everyone will feel easier once this package is secured elsewhere.”

“Amen to that,” the captain said, trying to sound more jovial than relieved by the prospect.

“How can I assist you, Mr. Lyon?” And Strai looked from Afra to Rojer who were both reclining on the chairs and settling themselves.

“Please tell your helmsman not to deviate from the present speed. Our drain will not affect the ship's speed or direction but you will hear a change in the generators.”

The captain gave the appropriate orders. Rojer had been listening to them with half his mind while the rest of his attention was on the pod. The upper hemisphere was bathed in the
Beijing'
s external lights and glowed, slickly metallic. It didn't
look
all that big, Rojer thought until he glanced for verification at the mass and volume.