Damia's Children (36 page)

Well, she did, and she was here for a purpose. And she had part of the answer. 32° Celsius was not warm enough for an egg-laying queen nor the eggs around here. Zara sensed terrible hunger, terrible weakness, fear of leaving a task undone. Solitude! Hunger! Cold! Strangeness everywhere. Cold! Hunger!

Zara Raven-Lyon? What are you doing down there?
She stared up at the Observation Module, aware she was dripping rancid fruit juice.

She's cold! She's bloody freezing to death! She's frozen, that's why she can't eat. Turn up the temperature.
Get more shavings down here to cover her and her eggs or you're going to lose them all.

How under the seventy suns of the Alliance do you know that, Zara Lyon!

Hive minds are female. The Rowan and everyone else who heard the Hive Many Mind were female. I'm female! She's cold! Turn up the heat!

I've already turned it. And I'm turning you up here to face heat of another kind, young lady!

Zara felt him touch her, to 'port her to the Module. She resisted, grinning.

Did you forget, Cousin Rhodri, that I'm T-1. You can't lift me unless I want to come.

I suggest
, said another voice with great authority and no humor,
that you lift yourself into the Module immediately, Zara Gwyn-Lyon!

Grandmother Rowan, don't make me until she's warm enough to eat because she needs help and I'll give it to her if no one else will!

Why you cheeky little snip!

A male chuckle spared Zara from matching strengths with her grandmother.
She's come a long way to do this, Rowan
, and it was her grandfather.
Since she's brave enough to be there, and may be correct in her diagnosis, let's give her the chance to prove it. Otherwise, the experts are fearful we will lose the queen.

Over the next two hours, Zara removed what she could to reach some comfort for herself in what became midsummer midday tropical heat. But the queen began to move, began to eat, and Zara pushed more and more food close enough for her to grasp it with her palps.

When the bales of shavings appeared, Zara piled them around the eggs and the larvae. Her
cousin sent her down something to drink to ease her own parched throat, a sweat-band and replaced towels as soon as they became sopping.

Then slowly, the queen worked herself free of her egg pile, crawling forward on her upper limbs. Zara, keeping a respectful distance of those long arms and powerful-looking palps, remounded the shavings. The queen continued to eat. When she stopped, Zara moved as far from her as she could, with the larvae in between. The queen busied herself with adding more shavings, as if criticizing Zara's efforts. Then she went into stationary mode.

Zara could sense nothing.

You've done what you set out to do, Zara, now report to the Module
, her grandmother said but she didn't sound angry even if her statement of what Zara was to do
now
was not something Zara would, or could, disobey.
I suggest that you shower before you join us on Callisto.
There was a thread of amusement in that addition.

I'm in for it though, Zara thought, but I did do what I set out to do. And the queen will live now!

*   *   *

To her surprise those on the Module did not attack her, or put a guard over her. The first thing Captain Waygella did was hold her nose and suggest that a cleanup was the first priority.

“We've got a good recycling plant in the Module but, child, you'll use up all the deodorants for the month.” So Zara was led, at a jog trot, to the sanitary facility, someone thrust a big towel in her hand and someone else a knee-length tunic and some soft soled station shoes. Only when she
picked up her suit, after a long shower, did Zara realize the pong she'd given off. At arm's length she pinched two fingers on the suit leg and thrust it into the disposal. Then she scrubbed the fingers again.

She was just opening the door, noting a female soldier outside when she was arbitrarily 'ported to the shuttle and beside the carrier she'd hidden behind.

In you get, child
, her grandfather said.
We'll spare you what publicity we can.

Zara “sensed” that Jeff Raven wasn't exactly angry with her, more surprised than angry, but it was only him she could be sure of on that score.

She was right about that for when she arrived at Callisto, she was met in the yard by Gollee Gren, her grandfather's first assistant, and the man who decided where Talents should be placed when they were old enough to have official assignments.

“You have surprised all of us, young Zara!”

“But, don't you see, Uncle Goll, I had to do what I did. No one else
knew.”

“Zara, honey,” and he put an arm about her shoulders, sort of guiding her toward the path that led to her grandmother's house, “the only thing that saves you from being sent forever to a boondock Capellan transfer station is that you did know. And you did save the queen.”

Zara began to feel a little better and lengthened her step to match his longer stride. His arm was comforting across her shoulders and she knew that she'd need comforting if her mother was in Grandmother's house.

She didn't even dare “sense” if her parents were there.

I'm here
, and she felt the cool serenity of her great-grandmother lap over her.
Your mother and father are far too busy pushing big daddies about the Alliance.

Then they were on the steps and the door was open. Great-grandmother Isthia and, Zara's eyes widened, the woman she was named after was there as well, Elizara. That sunk Zara's spirits. She'd've known where she was with Mother and Dad, even with Grandmother and Grandfather, but Isthia and Elizara . . . ! Uncle Gollee's arm was still strong on her shoulders and she felt the touch of both her great-grandmother and the medic implacably—if kindly—gathering her to them.

*   *   *

Rojer woke when he heard the klaxon of red alert. He scrambled into clothes, wondering for a brief frantic second if he was supposed to go to his escape pod. But this was red alert, not abandon ship. He was supposed to report to the bridge for either yellow or red alert. He pushed his feet through the legs of the fatigue suit, found the ship shoes with his toes at the same time as he poked his arms through the sleeves.

STAY HERE. WILL RETURN FOR YOU
, he told his sleepy 'Dinis as he closed the front fastening. Then he 'ported himself to his station on the bridge and just missed colliding with Commander Metrios who was lunging for his station.

Rojer opened his mind and found the captain's. The alert was not for danger to
them
but to the incoming Hive ship which seemed to be under attack.

The previous day, Rojer had put several probes into geosynchronous orbits about the inhabited planet, high enough to avoid many Hive units, and about the moons which previous probing had shown to have weapon emplacements of some kind.

These planetary probes were showing unusual activity and the lunar ones indicated long range torpedoes were being aimed at the incoming vessel.

“Doesn't have an updated security code, huh?” Metrios remarked to their gunnery officer, a Lieutenant Commander Yngocelen.

“Either that or they know that vessel's coming in loaded with queens and they don't need more. Bearing in mind,” Yngocelen added, “what we know of their colonizing rationale and what seems to be happening on the planet.”

“Yes, but it's their own species, isn't it?” the astrogator said, her voice puzzled.

“Like I said, maybe they don't have today's password. Wouldja look at that barrage! Damned glad we don't have to run it!”

“They're not hitting a thing. Look at the blasts!”

“Maybe a shot across the bows?” suggested the exec.

“Their marksmanship's not great, Ynggie,” Metrios said contemptuously. “And the incoming's not in range, not by spatials! Why'nt they wait?”

“Call for you, Captain,” Doplas said, “signal from Captain Prtglm.”

“On screen.”

“This is how they fight, Captain Osulvan,” said Prtglm. “Barrage will continue until ship is either
destroyed or retires. Then it will be followed until it is dead.”

“But it's their own ship, Captain.”

“The queens do not like to share, Osulvan,” Prtglm replied.

“Perhaps the incoming ship has not been able to identify itself as being a Hiver, or that it comes from the destruction of the home world.”

“That does not matter, Osulvan. Too many queens! The extra die!”

“At least we're learning where their surface to space missiles are launched,” Yngocelen said, his hands busy above his terminal. “I'm logging them in.”

“Any chance they'd exhaust their supply so we'd have a clear run in?” Metrios asked.

“Not a valid theory, Commander,” Prtglm said.

“Whoops!” Doplas said and one of the probe screens suddenly went blank.

The loss of one probe did not mitigate the volume of destruction that could be followed.

“This is different,” Prtglm said suddenly as the missiles which had begun to land on the surface of the incoming ship altered to miss.

“They can't miss. They're in range,” cried Ynggie. “How can they possibly miss? They're bouncing missiles off the hull!”

A rasp of 'Dini laughter caused all talk on the
Genesee
bridge to stop. “They need the ship unharmed. They wish to force the queens to leave it. This is a new tactic. Very new. Very interesting.”

After a while, it didn't seem so to Rojer who had to rub his eyes every now and then as the battle, millions of miles below, was relayed by the
probes to the interested audience. Due to relay time, they didn't realize exactly when it was over . . . except there were less tiny sparks about the third planet.

“Watch, allies,” Prtglm said, intoning in such a deep voice that everyone obeyed. “Observe that escape pods now leave ship.” One probe was fortunately in the perfect position for such an observation.

“They're bloody well sitting ducks, if those bugs have the range,” Ynggie said.

He groaned as each of the sixteen pods leaving the safety of the Hive ship was blasted to bits, seconds into its escape trajectory.

“Now, how do they take over the ship?” the exec asked. “No queen minds to tell the ordinary ranks what to do . . . and they haven't stopped firing, have they?”

“What to happen is not known. Observe. This is not usual pattern.”

What happened took far longer than forcing the queens to abandon their ship. Rojer had, in fact, fallen asleep on his couch, weary of watching screens. The comm officer roused him with a few gentle shakes to his shoulder.

“We need you, lad,” he said kindly, but his face was haggard with fatigue. “It's over and we've got to report it.”

“Wha . . . happened, finally, sir?” Rojer knuckled his eyes but a cup of steaming coffee was put in front of him and he took it gratefully from the astrogator Langio.

“The incomer ran out of ammunition, by the looks of it,” Metrios said, pausing before he sipped from his own cup. “Then a big shuttle
blew a hole midships—probably a cargo or docking area. Prtglm said that once queens got on board, they'd take over control of the crew. But that's only supposition because as Prtglm kept saying . . .”

“. . . on and on and on . . .” Doplas muttered, rolling his eyes.

“. . . The 'Dinis have no precedent for the behavior we witnessed. Now everybody, except you, Rojer, can stand down from red alert. Nor shall I keep you up much longer, either,” said Captain Osullivan. And surprised Rojer no end by giving him a friendly buffet on the shoulder as he extended the notepad.

Grandfather was sleepy, too, but he was instantly alert when he recognized Rojer's voice and overrode apologies.

Rojer delivered the message, speaking it aloud, which of course made it much longer to transmit.

Well, that is stunning news.
Then his grandfather chuckled.
The Squadron would have had a very warm welcome had it plowed right in there as some would have liked. Don't repeat that, Rojer.

Of course not, sir
, and Rojer even managed to keep his face straight.
We were on red alert. For hours. I'm not sure how long the fighting did last.

That's irrelevant, Rojer. That it occurred, with such ferocity and duration, with such a result
, is
relevant! Caution, and more caution, are needed. Even the most bellicose 'Dini will see that now. That battle may have saved many Human and 'Dini lives.

But, Grandfather
, for Rojer realized that the official part of their contact had been discharged,
there're now four Hive ships that this world can use for colonizing. That's not good.

Perhaps, Rojer. But they haven't left that system yet. Maybe they won't. I'm nattering with you, lad, because I've sent Captain Osullivan's report and there may be an immediate signal back. Can you stay awake? I can feel you yawning along with me.

Rojer grinned. He saw Captain Osullivan's eyebrows raise in query. “Earth Prime wants me to stay in touch, sir, in case there's an immediate reply to your report.”

“Oh!” And Captain Osullivan began to pace up and down the narrow walkway along the stations. Many of the other officers had left the bridge and the duty helmsman had been replaced. A lieutenant manned Doplas's seat but the nice astrogator was still at her desk, blinking frequently as she stared at the display in front of her.

Fraid we'll have to leave you where you are, Rojer
, his grandfather said,
and that goes for the squadron, too. Repeat aloud “Message for Captain Osullivan aboard
AS Genesee,
report received. Data being analyzed. The squadron is to remain in present positions unless enemy traffic requires resettlement. All activity on subject planet is to be reported on an ongoing basis: in twelve hour intervals unless increased activity suggests imminent departure of enemy ships. Reconnaissance by probe must be continued and the scope increased if at all possible. Additional personnel will be teleported at further notice. High Councillor Gktmglnt and Admiral Tohl Mekturian. End message.” Rojer, I think your brother will be joining you. May even be replacing you.