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  The attitude of the others thawed, slowly, with Helkmid’s endorsement. Albeit reluctantly, they let Kumenoprix transmit the data to Helkmid. They also let him look around the spaceship. They were having trouble. They had viewed this man as a monster and a disgrace to their Race and it was a shock to hear the respect and warmth towards him in Helkmid’s voice. It was a further shock to hear that all the Niseyen programs they had all just got, which would enormously speed up the reprogramming, were created by this insignificant-looking little male.

  For his part, Kumenoprix was patient. He was also awed. He had not been allowed physical contact with his own Race since he started his job. No contact at all until they allowed the electronic contact. He had never seen Helkmid nor heard his voice before. The two were now making up for it. They were chatting once a day. Helkmid had so many questions about his life, his job, his data, and his opinions. They were playing catch-up. Isolation from his own kind was something that Kumenoprix did not really take into account when he took the job. He was not a loner by nature but had become one because he was so far ahead of most people and so single-minded. Social conversation was not one of his abilities — but once he was so isolated, he missed it intensely. And he had missed physical contact. No one had touched him for hundreds of years except for shoving him, moving him out of the way, dismissing him. So he was not too concerned that his own Race had difficulty accepting him for these first few days.

  Two weeks later Helkmid had some grave news. “Cukudeopul has died. It appears he died in his sleep last night. If his death was assisted, no word of this has been heard.”

  “Who has taken over from him?”

  “Kasthidill. Do you know him?”

  “Oh yes, I know them all. He’s a warmonger. Nasty and racist. It could be worse. Of the eight main contenders, he’s middle of the road.”

  “But worse than Cukudeopul?”

  “Yes, quite a bit. He has no judgment, hates all other Races, is itching to go to war, very keen to make his mark, doesn’t believe in compromise, and is arrogant even for a Keulfyd. He wants to speed up the Cleaner damage. The security staff don’t like him because he has no respect for them and no sense of humour. He won’t listen to others. He seems to honestly believe that no one else has an opinion worth considering. And he thinks that any and all comments are politically motivated. He cannot comprehend that information might not be politically motivated. He is exasperating!”

  “Any redeeming features?”

  “Can’t think of any off hand.”

  “I’m afraid I have more bad news,” said Helkmid. “A Keulfyd war fleet is on the move. I don’t know where it’s going, but I think it’s a fair guess it’s coming here. I can think of a few good reasons why. I’ve suggested to the Captain that he speeds up. A fleet can only travel at the speed of the slowest ship. According to your pilot, you should get here just ahead of it.”

  Kumenoprix’s face showed his shock. He looked at the crew. They looked back grimly. There was a long silence then the Captain said, “Helkmid says he needs you. We will try to drop you off and run. If they go no faster than they are now, we will just have time.”

  “Thank you,” said Kumenoprix. “I am very grateful to you all.” He noticed there was a new look of respect in their eyes. They were all crew or medical workers. Not one had he heard grumbling. If they were as scared as he was, they weren’t telling.

  The days went on with some noticeable irritability now and then as the eleven women and ten men watched the fleet come together behind them. As usual, every crew member was barraged with questions when they came into the lounge. As the Communications Officer explained yet again, “No, no Keulfyd war ships have yet appeared between our ship and Torroxell, but yes it does appear probable that Torroxell is indeed the intended target. There are set routes in space, like highways. This is not a space highway. It isn’t even a D road. Especially not now that Torroxell is no longer open for business, so to speak. It’s not uncommon to travel weeks in space with no other ships on the scanners but this is a little isolated even for space. It’s eerie. It’s as if every ship that should be in this area has left. Word gets around fast.”

  Three weeks later, Kumenoprix wandered into the control room to hear some caustic comments from the pilot who was saying to the others, “Twenty-three of those bloody Flying Fortresses which will each be carrying a hundred or so ships inside, twelve troop carriers, sixteen modern gun ships, and two older-style gunships. I can’t see exactly what those are. There may be others behind them. More fire power than the fleet that originally attacked Torroxell, and many more people.”

  “Yes but Helkmid said there’s a Defense System there now.”

  The Navigator looked at Kumenoprix. “I am fairly certain that the Keulfyd will know exactly how much it will take to defeat the Shield,” she said.

  Kumenoprix was startled. He hadn’t thought of that. “Are they gaining on us?” he asked softly.

  “Yes, but only just, as we are now at full speed. If they maintain their current speed, we will still have time to drop you off and run for it as we originally planned,” she answered.

  That was another problem for Kumenoprix. Women. He had tried not to think about them for the last few hundred years because they were unobtainable. Two security officers he disliked had offered to get him one. But to the gentle Kumenoprix, the idea of kidnapping a woman and imprisoning her was totally abhorrent. He also realized that should these two officers ever do this “for fun,” the woman would be killed sooner or later. So he had said no. Emphatically.

  But now there were eleven women here. Two of the five crew were female. Sometimes he didn’t know where to look. One of the women took offense when she saw how awkward he was with her when it was just the two of them in the lounge. Shyly, he explained the problem. She first looked startled and then amused. She apologized. By the reaction to him of all the other women the next day, they all knew. And they all started to be nice to him! That was almost worse. He was so embarrassed! Several of the men noticed and were somewhat puzzled. They could stay puzzled, he thought. He wasn’t going to tell them what was going on and it seemed the women weren’t either. It did provide a little comic relief and they all needed that.

  Especially when, about two weeks out from Torroxell, the pilot noticed that a ship had pulled ahead of the rest and was gaining on them. The pilot addressed them all. “This ship is fast because time is money to us.” There were several wry smiles: people who wanted repairs and upgrades to Okme Healing Machines wanted the work done today and didn’t understand why operators couldn’t reprogram. “Unfortunately, the ship coming up behind us is faster and is, of course, armed. We are in trouble.”

  There was a quieter air about the ship that day. Kumenoprix felt guilty but no one seemed to be blaming him. He explained the problem to Helkmid during their daily chat.

  A few days later, Kumenoprix had just come back from a meal when he sensed an air of excitement. He scooted to the control room to find he couldn’t fit in as everyone else had had the same idea. “What is it?” he asked.

  The woman next to him replied, “There are two ships, fast ones, coming towards us from Torroxell. The pilot thinks they are Loridsyl.” She saw the blank look on Kumenoprix’s face. “They run the Torroxell Defense System. They might be coming to help us.”

  Kumenoprix decided this might be the right time to find out a few things on a need to know basis. He needed to know! “Is this ship shielded?” he asked anxiously.

  “Yes, of course but only for space debris, not for weapons.”

  “So it’s not armed?”

  “No. It’s a civilian ship.”

  “Oh. How good is the shield?”

  She considered, to give him an accurate answer. “It is a good shield for its purpose. It will protect against debris, even quite large debris but notfor long if it is propelled with force. We normally keep it on low all the time, locked into the scanners. That way it repels dust and little things and if th
e scanners sense large objects, they automatically alarm and once the object is at a certain distance, depending on its velocity, the shield goes into full-strength mode. Our scanners are automatic. They don’t need an operator. That’s why there is only a crew of five — three for the main shift and two for the equivalent of the night shift.”

  Kumenoprix was startled. “I haven’t been in space for centuries. I’ve never heard of automatic scanners. What a good idea.”

  “Yes, but it is very expensive. The up-front cost of this ship is nearly three times that of the cheaper equivalent. But it’s fifty percent faster than most civilian ships, safer, and cheaper to run because two less crew means you can carry two more passengers so that’s another two fares. Whenever possible, we travel full. Our capacity is normally twenty. Two passengers bunked in together this time to give you a cabin to yourself.” When she saw his expression she hastily said, “Don’t feel guilty. They will get a partial refund and are quite happy with that. Very few civilians have a ship that can stay ahead of a war fleet. Consider yourself lucky to be an Okme.”

  While they were talking, the pilot had been on the communicator. He announced, “The two ships are Loridsyl and are coming to rescue us! Helkmid sent them a few days ago. Mostly because of you, Kumenoprix, but also because we are Okme so we are entitled to be rescued because it is partially our planet! They will charge us but only cost price and probably not much. The cheerful sod on the communicator told me, ‘No rescue, no charge’.” There was a nervous chuckle at that.

  Kumenoprix said hesitantly, “I don’t know much about these Loridsyl. They are good? Militarily?”

  “Their own shields, ships and weaponry are more than top of the range. They are not for sale. They keep the best for themselves. Loridsyl try to avoid fighting but if they have to fight, they generally win. They are not an aggressive species now but they used to be. They have a long life-expectancy and dislike it being cut short. If someone shoots at them or someone they are protecting, they take it very personally. They intensely dislike losing.”

  “So they are good,” said Kumenoprix in relief. “They must be if two ships are quite happy to come towards a Keulfyd battle fleet. I’d run the other way.”

  As the hours passed, the ships drew close together. Most of the crew and passengers were too jittery to sleep, even though it would be two days before the whole four were close enough for any action. Even the Keulfyd ship was still far out of range. The pilot told them that the Loridsyl ships were still accelerating and were far exceeding the speed of the oncoming Keulfyd ship. The Loridsyl ships would reach them first but there was much speculation as to what they would then do. Would they shoot at the Keulfyd ship or would they use a tractor beam and escort them?

  Kumenoprix couldn’t stand the tension so went to bed. Like everyone else, he had not been sleeping well lately; something about impending doom tends to make one an insomniac. Waking several hours later, he found the situation not much changed. He decided to do something useful. He got out his computer, went into the lab and started to work with his usual single-minded intensity. He carried on hour after hour working on the female Niseyen genes, building up the basis of the reprogramming. Straightening up after completing one section, he swayed and felt dizzy. He was momentarily puzzled and then realized he hadn’t eaten for quite a while.

  He headed for the galley, looking for something instant, but found it full of delicious smells. One of the passengers was there cooking busily. He explained, “When I get nervous I cook or clean. Help yourself.” Kumenoprix promptly did so. He munched for a few minutes then asked, “What’s the situation?”

  “The Loridsyl ships will be here in a few hours. The Keulfyd ship is travelling fast as well but the pilot still reckons the Loridsyl will get here first.”

  “What will they do?”

  “They say they’ll decide when they get here!”

  “Great. So do I have a panic attack or a nervous breakdown?’

  “Both?”

  The two laughed.

  “Have you been feeding everyone?”

  “Pretty much. I’ve gone through all the food storage and I’ve been on these ships a lot so I know what to combine to make food more interesting. I always was an active relaxer. I have to do something. The more stress I’m under, the more I do and the faster I work. When I was a student, my apartment was always immaculate around exam time.”

  “Mine was a mess.”

  “You’re normal.”

  The two laughed again. Kumenoprix loaded up his plate and went back to his studies. He set his alarm for another six hours when the action ought to start.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Late one night Sarah was contacted by Alia who told her Mathew was on screen. She ran. Puffing into the Air Traffic Control room she saw Mathew chatting to Miyuki. Miyuki turned and said, “Anne is alive! She’s on a planet called Oberterk, she’s married, looks sixteen, is fully recovered, masterminding a war and she released the virus and it’s out of control and the Nashi have spread it all around the Keulfyd planets.”

  “Whoa,” said Sarah, trying to take all this in. “Is the virus why the attack fleet is coming here?”

  “Could be. Probably. But the Keulfyd hate to be beaten anyway,” answered Mathew.

  “Who are the Nashi?” she asked.

  “Nasty big lizard-like things. The Race that attacked Oberterk.” In response to the puzzled look on Sarah’s face he added, “Where Az and Kaz were captured.”

  “Oh. The Zeobani planet.”

  “Yes. We have joined in on their side.”

  “Is that wise?”

  “Probably not, but Anne has a good plan. We improved on it a little, and I think we can win Oberterk back. That gets us a claim.”

  “Well, I guess that’s worth a bit of risk. How did she get the virus?”

  “She was meant to give it to me to take to Earth. I had some but Helkmid decided to give me some more. He wanted it to be manufactured. Both the Zeobani and the Nashi did that! Anne had it in her pocket all along. According to one of the Zeobani scientists, it survived because it was in an insulated container and then in a cold area. Most viruses can hibernate in the cold — it’s heat that kills them. The Zeobani say Lidisihad, the Keulfyd that kidnapped her, is being blamed for spreading it and the Nashi are getting the blame for manufacturing it. Anne thinks he kidnapped her for Intel but English wasn’t programmed into his ship translator and Anne pretended she knew no Universal. She didn’t know much anyway. Oh, and I needed to warn you about the attack fleet but Miyuki said you knew.”

  “Yes, the Niseyen military told us and the Okme. Apparently it’s rather difficult to hide a battle fleet. When they are in space a whole lot of Races keep surveillance on them. Did you say Anne’s married?”

  “Yes, to a Niseyen.”

  “Is he cute?”

  “Not my type,” he said and they all laughed. “You won’t recognize her. She’s got a fur coat. Akira will be so pleased. He liked Anne.”

  They chatted for a while but it was frustrating with the time lag. Sarah yawned and went off to bed very pleased. Anne, alive and healthy. It was so horrible to think she had survived a war, survived being so badly injured and then got kidnapped! Sarah wondered why but figured probably for information. Lidisihad. What a funny name but somehow easy to remember. She yawned again and smiled. This would make for a cheerful breakfast tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Twenty-one days before the Keulfyd fleet was due at Torroxell, Odisekint prowled through his troop carrier in his usual bad mood. He had been in a foul temper since finding out, through somewhat unofficial sources, that his father Lijfomid was missing along with the rest of his fleet. Due to the officially unofficial nature of his father’s job and his unknown whereabouts, Odisekint was unable to make any enquiries. That was the problem with illegal activities — even though the mission was sanctioned, albeit unofficially.

  Odisekint was very fond of his father and had in
tended to follow his career pathway but was still in training and building up his own stake, which he would require to buy in. On receiving Lijfomid’s coded signal, his mother Janulan had set plans in motion to safeguard their assets and notified the rest of the family. There had been one more message from Lijfomid and then just the alert to Odisekint through an acquaintance. The silence was frightening. His father had had a knack for picking lucrative but successful missions and had had a long career in a business in which most people did not grow old. Hence Odisekint’s enthusiasm to follow his example.

  Janulan was in charge of ordering supplies and finance. She operated a legitimate business as well, along with three of his siblings. Keulfyd were not subject to a breeding restriction and his parents had had seven children, of whom three were already involved in the family business and a further two, he and a sister, were in training and intending to join. The other two had gone their separate ways: one sister into the military (where she was determined to stay), and another into chemical engineering.

  Odisekint had manoeuvred himself into the right place at the right time to volunteer for this fleet and find out what had happened to his father. But so far there had been little reliable information and he was becoming very frustrated. Being a junior officer had seriously restricted his access to information and he could hardly explain why he needed to know what had happened to the previous fleet which he wasn’t supposed to know about.

  But he did know they were heading for Torroxell (which everyone knew) and were due there in three weeks. He knew there was, or had been, a deadly virus there and that his father had got it, along with over half of the Keulfyd in his fleet. And he had had to shut up and restrict what socializing he did with others, earning himself a name among his compatriots as a surly loner. One of the problems with knowing what he shouldn’t was that he had to constantly guard his tongue, trying to remember what information was public, what was rumour, and what information he really shouldn’t know. Silence was the safest tactic.