The Washington hung behind the largest of the three moons that circled the subject planet, while probes began their exploratory flights. Thian had control of those investigating the planet while Clancy and Semirame Kloo had sent theirs to the sphere set in a geosynchronous orbit above what appeared to be the same sort of flat field used for Hiver scout ships on the Xh-33 Hiver world.

“That ship is ancient,” Clancy reported to Admiral Ashiant, who was seated behind the Talents’ couches.

“It is?”

“The hull’s pitted,” Rame Kloo added. “And that odd covering they use on their spheres has all worn away. Never seen that before. We should ask the ’Dinis about such erosion.”

“I’ll send a message to Captain Spktm on the KSTS,” Clancy said, and gestured for Rame to continue searching without him for a moment.

“Can you get inside the sphere, Commander?” the Admiral asked Kloo, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, as he peered at the screen which did indeed show the deterioration of the surface of the Hiver vessel.

“Indeed we can, sir,” Rame said. “They left a door open for us,” she added in a droll voice.

The Admiral recoiled slightly in reflex as the probe dove for a jagged hole in the exterior. For a moment, the screen was black. Then the probe’s lights came on and displayed the now-familiar drive area, did a sweep and then focused on the hull fragments from the hole littering the deck.

“Just what we need,” Clancy said and activated the probe’s sweeper to collect the debris. “I’ll just ’port them to the lab, sir, and we should get an estimate of its age from forensic examination.”

“I’ll tell them to expect it,” the Admiral said, raising his wrist com to his lips.

“If you wouldn’t mind, sir,” Clancy said, grinning to himself. Sometimes he had the notion that Admiral Ashiant felt somewhat at a disadvantage in the presence of the Talents. “Spktm is querying its experts on the deterioration of the sphere’s skin. It’ll come back if it has any information.”

“Ah, here we are, sir,” Thian said, gesturing to the screens he had just activated, showing pictures of the surface taken by the probes he was controlling. “Odd.”

“What’s odd?” the Admiral asked, lowering the com now that he had contacted the lab technicians.

“I’d’ve expected a much larger facility if this planet has been settled as long as the age of the ship seems to indicate.”

“Yes, you’re right in that. The Xh-33 had a much larger installation near its field. Can you see the entrances to the underground scout storage?”

Thian shook his head. One probe swooped lower to the ground and then quartered the field area. Thian halted it a few centimeters above the ground.

“I can just make out a long seam, sir...”

“Yes, yes, and covered with sand or dust or whatever.”

“Hangars don’t look to have been opened in a long while,” Thian said.

“No, they don’t.”

“And if you’ll look to the other screen, sir, there doesn’t seem to be as much under cultivation.”

“Is this colony then dying?”

“Doesn’t look to be, not with those flourishing crops which seem to be well tended. In fact, it’s a rather nice world, Admiral. There’s a good balance between cultivated and fallow fields. See that stretch just coming up ... and forestry. And that lake ... lovely. Almost Arcadian,” Thian remarked.

“Arcadian?” the Admiral echoed. “What’s its designation on the Mrdini star maps.”

“Huh? Oh. Let me see.” Thian tapped a few keys before he said, “Cj-70.”

Ashiant gave a disapproving grunt deep in his throat. “Shame to stick to alpha numerics on it, pretty as it is. Let’s refer to it as Arcadia. Agreed?”

“Willingly, sir,” Thian said obligingly, and keyed in a substitution. “However, it’s certainly not as active as Xh- 33 was.”

To this the Admiral agreed, seeing the neatly weeded rows of greenery, the adjacent field sporting some dark purply-green foliage.

“Go on, will you, Thian?”

And Thian sent his two probes, in opposite directions, skimming over the surface at a height of twenty meters. In each screen, they saw several of the collection squares, none as big as those on Xh-33 but substantial enough. Finally the right-hand screen showed movement and homed in on it. Workers were trundling along in their ordered phalanx down to yet another collection point. The creatures were head to tail, moving on six limbs at a brisk trot. Two more limbs were cocked at each “head” and the watchers could see the specialized arrangement of trowel and fork.

“Those creatures aren’t as large as the ones Rojer recorded on Xh-33, are they?” Ashiant said, puzzled.

“No, they don’t seem to be,” Thian concurred, and activated another screen with the relevant disk of Rojer’s exploration of that planet. “Much smaller.”

“But carrying the same sort of tools, so they’re similar to the Xh-33 workers. Why would they be smaller?”

“I haven’t a clue, sir. Shall I get one of the xenbios in here?”

“Aren’t you projecting all this on their lab screens?”

“I am, but there’s no reason you can’t have a running report on their assessment.”

“Ask Lieutenant Weiman and ’Dini Grm to join me at the Talent post, will you?” Admiral Ashiant said into his wrist com, his eyes not leaving the screen.

While they were waiting for the specialists to arrive, Ashiant gave Thian a curious look. “Would you mind my asking you”—his glance included the other Talents—“a little more about Talent? I mean, I know that Primes do both telepathy and teleport over enormous distances, but Clancy here’s a T-2 and I know he ‘paths as well as ’ports and...” Ashiant shrugged, his rugged face indicating a sincere desire for a full briefing on the distinctions.

Thian grinned, saw Clancy reddening and Kloo trying hard not to grin.

“It’s basically a difference in strength and length, and combinations of inherent skills, sir. I can ‘path or ’port with or without generator gestalt. Clancy’s got more kinetic ability than telepathic, and while he’s strong in kinetics, he can’t really ‘path or receive far, even in gestalt, but his abilities multiply mine. And Kloo. Now she didn’t know she was a latent Talent until the Phobos examination. At first she could only send.” Thian smiled again at Kloo rolling her eyes over her discovery of latent abilities. “Now she can receive, and come in to add strength to our”—he pointed to Clancy—“merge. Alison Ann was a T-5 empath, but she’s advanced in skill, learning to ’port as well as ’path, but her initial ability made her a superb nurse.”

“It’s association with us lot that’s improved her at least a full grade up,” Clancy said, slyly grinning at Thian.

“It does help to be continually in use, as it were, sir. Our father, Afra Lyon, was originally a T-3, but constant association with our grandmother increased his skills to T-2. He may even be as close to Prime as he wants to get.”

Clancy made a grimace of surprise.

“Not that he’d admit it,” Thian went on. “However, two T-2’s, one with more telepathic strength, the other with kinetic, like Yoshuk and Nesrun on Sef, or the Bastianmajanis, Flavia’s parents, on Altair, mesh Talent so well they are all but equal to Prime. My sister Zara, as another example, has both kinetic and telepathic ability but her empathic level is too high for her ever to be a Tower Prime. Like Elizara, she’s best fitted for the medical and healing profession. So not all T-1’s can automatically be Tower Primes... which, as you know, sir, FT&T badly needs.”

Ashiant nodded and gestured for Thian to continue.

“Below the 2’s, you get variations of the abilities to ’port or ’path, sometimes just one and not the other at all. Or some can receive but not send. Or send a fair distance on a gestalt but not receive. T-3’s are useful as aids to T-2’s or Primes. There are far more T-4’s and downward available as backup, but they don’t have the inherent stamina, even in connection with a gestalt, to work on their own, or for very long. However, engineers from T-4 down are apt to work solo anywhere and we’ve a lot of choice among them.”

“I thought that your cousin Asia”—Ashiant turned to Clancy—“trained with Rojer as engineer.”

“Yes, she did, sir, and is on the Columbia as T-4 and will probably get a post on a Tower.”

“That’s just the Federated Teleport and Telepath side of Talent,” Thian went on. “Sometimes we get T-2 rank for clairvoyants, finders and empaths. FT&T tries to contact anyone with latent Talent, assess and train them. Some are better off going into private firms where their particular level of other aspects of Talent, like dowsing or affinities to water and fire, makes them invaluable to their employers.” Thian made a face and scratched the back of his head. “I know my grandfather’s trying to lure some of the higher ranks away from commerce and industry because FT&T never expected to expand so heavily into this sort of assignment ...” Thian gestured to indicate the Washington and naval duty.

“Damned glad FT&T permits it,” Ashiant said, nodding his head and then giving Thian a wry smile. “Though I wouldn’t have thought I’d admit that when you first came aboard.”

Thian laughed out loud, remembering how many naval regulations and traditions he had set on their ears in his first few hours aboard the old Vadim. Ashiant grinned back and nodded his head.

“We’ve both learned a thing or two since then, haven’t we, Isthian?” Ashiant said, using his Prime’s full first name.

“I know I have, sir,” Thian said. He turned toward the entrance to the Talent quarters. “The xenbees’re here.” A discreet knock on the door panel followed his words.

However, when Ashiant explained the reason for their summons, neither Weiman nor Grm could give him any answer to the puzzle.

“The queens activate whatever sort of worker they need for the task,” Sam said, rubbing his chin while Grm, a dusty brown ’Dini, rocked gently on its flat feet. “I have been noticing, Admiral, that this planet doesn’t seem to be as densely farmed as Xh-33.”

“I have decreed”—the Admiral glanced about in a pseudopompous manner—“that this planet is to be referred to in all documentation as ‘Arcadia.’ ”

“That gives it more personality than Cj-70,” Sam said with a big grin.

Grm pondered this, fingering its chin. AGREE. AR-CA-DEE-A.

At that point, the Admiral’s wrist com bleeped quietly with an incoming message.

“Yes? Now that’s very interesting. Thank you, Commander,” Ashiant said. “They’ve dated the sphere by the deterioration of the metal fragments at five hundred and eighty years old.”

“That’s old!” Sam added a soft whistle. “What is the oldest sphere you ever encountered, Grm?”

“This one older than any seen,” Grm replied in good Basic, still rocking on its feet. “We have only two hundred years fighting. That is much older.” Now it shook its head up and down and clicked softly in its throat. “Far, far from homeworld too.”

“Rather daunting, actually,” Ashiant murmured. “Just how deeply have they penetrated our galaxy?”

The probes had entered the night side of the planet.

“Shall we continue, sir?”

“Yes, since I believe those probes are equipped for dark-vision. I want to know just how many collection points and queen installations there are, and where.”

“Queens live deep under the ground,” Grm said, pointing to the deck and jabbing its digit to indicate considerable depth.

“Have we got any probes sensitive enough to pick up queen life-form readings?” Ashiant asked Thian.

“Rojer managed to do some probing in the collection facilities on Xh-33,” Thian said, “but he didn’t actually find a tunnel that opened into a queen’s living quarters. It was a maze ... with low-ceilinged waiting places for the various types of workers.” He shook his head at the immensity of such an undertaking.

“Much smaller workers,” Sam said, still rubbing his jaw. “Don’t understand what that could mean. Prime, can you get us some soil samples from”—he grinned—“Arcadia’s surface? Dr. Tru Blairik, the bio on the Columbia, suggests that the soil on Marengo and Talavera was deficient in a variety of minerals and earths. We also have the components of the Xh-33 for comparison.”

“I’ll direct the probes to start collecting soil samples. Random selection, Lieutenant?” Thian asked.

“Yes, please.”

“We can help you now,” Clancy said. “There’s nothing left in that sphere that we haven’t seen in the others, though it doesn’t have escape pods. Maybe that was a brand-new innovation for the Hivers when they met Mrdinis, Grm.” He grinned at the ’Dini, who swiveled its poll eye around to Clancy.

“Int’resting.” Admiral Ashiant began to rub his chin thoughtfully.

“Indeed,” Grm agreed, continuing to rock as if that was as much an aid to thought as jaw rubbing.

“Prime, have we any updates from Squadron ... excuse me, Fleet B?” the Admiral asked.

Thian leaned across to Clancy and indicated that the T-2 was to take over the maneuvering of the probes. Clancy nodded as he and Rame took firm control of the two, while Thian leaned into one of the Washington’s generators for the gestalt needed for a far sending. While he could have done it without aid, he had learned to save unassisted contact for emergencies.

Always, was the cheerful reply, and a mental sketch of a deep bow.

Is it daytime wherever you are? Thian couldn’t be sure, since it was his brother’s touch that he had contacted, not the ship or a planetary surface.

It is—and I’m on Talavera, where we’ve started investigations.

Thian informed his brother of their discoveries on Arcadia, emphasizing the size of the workers.

That’s int’resting, Rojer said. Yakamasura and Blairik noticed that with the worker shells here. Much smaller than those at Xh-33. You can see the difference with the naked eye. Are you telling me that the planet you’re investigating is that old and not overcrowded?

Not at all, Thian replied, refusing to rise to his brother’s jibe. Just being cautious. This planet is occupied.

Hmmm, yes, that would advise some caution, I suppose. Five hundred and eighty years? That’s grabbed the xenos’ attention. And there was laughter in Rojer’s mental tone. Yes, that’s what Thian said.... How’d you arrive at that estimate? They want to know.

Thian flipped the file in a ’port to his brother’s position.

I’ll send on the samples. And with an image of himself giving Rojer a brotherly pat on the back, Thian disengaged.

He did not, however, resume his control of the probes.

“I would like to get down to Arcadia’s surface, Admiral Ashiant,” he said after a long, thoughtful pause.

“What?” Ashiant was astounded. “I don’t think I can allow that, Thian. You’re far too valuable to us...”

Thian held up his hand. “I’d run no risk, I assure you.” Then he turned to Grm and Weiman. “The queen kept on the Heinlein Base. Is she still ignoring the presence of Humans or ’Dini?”

“It has made no response at all,” Grm said, shaking its head.

Sam Weiman sighed. “I had the opportunity to transfer to the ... ah ... facility,” he said. “Stood as close to her as I am to you right now, sir. I have never been so completely ignored in my life.” He gave a droll grin on his moon face. “No one has ever had a reaction from her. There have been so many attempts at some form of communication. Every method has been tried: sound, color, every radio-wave band and electromagnetic frequency modulation. We don’t even know if she’s been aware of them.” He sighed again. “It is so terribly frustrating,” he added with considerable vehemence.

Thian turned to the Admiral. “I would be in no danger because the Hivers do not recognize us as enemies or friends, or anything. They don’t recognize... any ... other ... living species.”

“Not even those who have recently blasted all their spheres to bits?” asked the Admiral, cocking one eyebrow at Thian.

“I won’t be in the ship, sir. I do need to be in their ambience,” Thian said in a slow, measured way. “I will bring a full squad of marines, if you feel that is necessary. I don’t. And Clancy would be here to snatch me right back if I was threatened.”

Sam Weiman jerked his index finger up and down, the eagerness on his broad pink face suggesting that he’d be very willing to accompany any such expedition. Grm gave Thian a long searching, hopeful look.

“You go, Prime. I go and Sam,” it said with more than usual firmness.

All three regarded the Admiral, who looked from one to another as if he doubted their good sense.

“Such a mission, seeing the queens in their natural habitat, would be most instructive, sir,” Sam said, his body taut with anticipation. “I’d like to take as many readings as possible, of soil, air ... anything that might be useful for our study of the Hivers as a species. And perhaps leave remotes to view while we’re still in orbit?”

Ashiant gave a snort, then exhaled with a combination of impatience and irritation.

“Very well,” he said, flicking his fingers to show that he was not happy with the request but permitting it. “If there is any reaction groundside, you’ll be hauled out instantly.” He fixed a basilisk stare at Clancy, who nodded vigorously in agreement.

Sam’s face was beatific, Grm did a little dance on its feet and Thian grinned.

“And that squad will be right there beside you ...” Ashiant pointed at each in turn. Then he twisted around, finger pointing at Clancy, who was trying to maintain an imperturbable expression, though his eyes danced. “And you don’t lose sight of them for one moment.”

“No sir, of course, sir,” Clancy replied, sitting up as if at attention. One of the probes zigzagged and he instantly rectified its course.

“Sir, if I may be allowed to lead the surface party,” Lieutenant Commander Semirame Kloo said, “I’d be able to assist Lieutenant Sparrow with a speedy evacuation.”

Ashiant widened his eyes, threw both hands in the air and rose to his feet.

“You’re all mad. Very well, Commander. Assemble a squad. Handpicked martial arts experts. I’ve seen the clips of how fast that queen can move the few times she has. Side arms, missile-loaded. I want to see where you intend to land! And you”—Ashiant pointed again to Thian, his finger shaking a bit—“wear body armor.”

“Yes sir.”

Ashiant glared about the room once more and then with an exasperated “Whoosh” went through to the bridge.

“Admiral on the bridge,” was plainly heard just as the door slid shut.

Thian brought his hands together with a loud clap. “Let’s get with it, team,” he said enthusiastically. “Sam, you get into body armor too. Grm, do you have anything similar?”

Grm drew itself up to its full meter and a half. “I am ’Dini. I need no armor against queens.”

I could throw Grm back by myself, if I had to, Semirame said with a sniff. Then she held up her wrist com and started snapping out her orders.

“Shall I keep on with the probes?” Clancy asked.

“Please, Clancy. We ought to have a full surface scan so we can map all the Hiver installations. Get Lea Day up here to help, and who’s that other good telekinetic on board?”

“Vlad Ivanov in the machine shop,” Thian said. “He’ll do fine if he’s available.”

“He is,” Semirame said, interrupting herself. “Thought he’d be needed. And have you picked out our landing spot?”

“Yes.” Thian pointed to one of the unused screens in the bank ranged across the bulkhead. A scene came up from some of the initial footage of their day’s scanning of Arcadia.

“By a collection facility?” Semirame asked in surprise.

“Why not? That space right there.” Thian put the cursor on the spot. “Nice open space for the shuttle, good visibility. Computer, print screen five.” The hard copy rapidly extruded from the unit and he handed it to Semirame, who frowned as she scanned it. “Copy to the Admiral’s screen. I’ll leave it up for you, Clancy.”

“Thanks,” his cousin said drolly.

Then Thian flicked his fingers at Sam Weiman and Grm. “C’mon. Get ready. I don’t want to hang around ... in case the Admiral has second thoughts about this.” He grinned, once more, mischievously before he turned. With a skip and hop more suited to a much younger person, Thian made his way to his room to suit himself in the gear specified by the Admiral.

Thank you. Clancy’s tone was droll. Nary a flicker on the telltales!

Thian turned. “Let’s have a reading on the air, Mocmurra,” he said, and the woman promptly held up the peculiar device she carried. A long, thin spiral tube contained a worm of intricate, flexible coils coated with a polyamide material that turned them brown: a compact and efficient gas chromatograph.

Mocmurra grinned. “Air’s fresher than the Washington’s.”

“Let’s move out, men,” Commander Semirame said, touching the shuttle’s hatch control as her squad instantly got to their feet. She nodded to Thian, allowing him to be first, but Grm slipped in ahead of him and jumped deftly to the ground, the tools on the belt it wore clanking together.

“Soft,” it said as it flipped its feet through the greeny-brown ground cover that stretched beyond and over the collection facility. Tendrils from the vegetation had spilled over the wide entrance but were trimmed short of covering it.

“Keep the place tidy, don’t they,” Semirame said, right at Thian’s elbow as he stepped onto the surface. She gestured for her squad to spread out and around the shuttle, checking on all sides.

“All clear, sir,” her sergeant reported.

“Now what, Thian?” she asked.

“I don’t quite know,” he said, looking around at the plain that extended in all directions, at the cultivated land with an occasional access alley for the workers. He took deep breaths of the air, tasting it, feeling it on his skin. “Faint odor?”

“There is.” Semirame took another deep breath. “Sort of ... crisp.”

“Yes, exactly,” Thian said, having been unable to find the right descriptive word for the lingering smell in the air.

It was extraordinary to be standing here, on a Hiver world, and he didn’t bother to hide the slight smile of wonderment and incredulity this moment provoked. He snapped mental fingers at Rojer’s jibe that he’d never be “risked” on a personal tour.

Semirame pointed. “Look at it move!”

Thian saw the ’Dini, cavorting over the ground cover, headed right for the collection facility entrance, down the slope.

Semirame whistled for her squad leader’s attention, but the sergeant had already allocated two men to follow the ’Dini.

Just don’t expect me to move all of you out of danger if you run into it. Clancy’s tone was slightly sour.

Thian only laughed as he started down the steep slope that led into the subsurface collection center. He was elated in a way he had never before experienced, not even when he and Kiely-Austin had penetrated the nova-seared Great Sphere and found the egg repositories intact. Even the familiar sting-pzzt that was now noticeable couldn’t dampen his mood. Anyway, the body armor somewhat deadened the sensation. He hoped that it would continue to do so when they were in closer proximity to the Hivers.

Semirame had sent men trotting on ahead of the adventurous Grm, whose short legs could not match the jog trot of the marines. She gave a brisk nod of her head and then tilted it to mentally inform Thian that her advance scouts had seen nothing inside to alarm them. Thian stepped onto the approach ramp, excitement rising inside him. With his special senses, he couldn’t hear, see or feel anything. No, that wasn’t quite right. There was something ... a presence ... not something truly sentient, but something alive. Some things, he corrected himself.

The ground beneath his feet had been trampled down for so long that it was now below its original level by several centimeters. In fact, if he looked closely he could see the slight ruts worn by workers that had tramped up and down it for centuries. In the depths beyond the overhang, he could see light—Semirame’s scouts checking it out.

“Scouts say it’s all clear. Stinks a lot, like rotted vegetation,” she said with a snort.

She raised her arm to call the rest of her team forward. Sam Weiman had knelt down to scoop up more soil samples, grunting as he forced his tool to loosen the closely packed dirt. Semirame pulled down the dark-vision visor from her helmet and Thian followed her example as they moved into the facility.

The prevalent smell was indeed of slightly rotting vegetation. The odor deepened as they penetrated farther in. The flooring was clean and their boots scraped on a different surface. Thian leaned down to touch it.

“Some sort of plascrete,” he said.

Another of Semirame’s noncommittal grunts.

“Lots of low tunnels now, sir, leading deeper in and down to other levels,” said the tinny voice issuing from Semirame’s wrist com. She looked at Thian for orders.

“Can you navigate them?” he asked into his own wrist unit.

“Can do,” was the answer after a slight pause.

“Hands-and-knees job?” Thian asked.

“Can do,” was repeated.

“Found where the stuff must get dumped, sir,” another voice reported. “Straight ahead of you. ’Bout ten meters.”

Semirame and Thian rapidly covered the distance, their quick steps echoing in the underground space since stealth did not seem to be required.

The smell was heavier as they reached the dumping point. Peering down the slide that was at a forty-five degree angle, they could see a parallel chute and conveyor belt. Despite the smell, their handlights showed no refuse at all, the plascrete clean.

“Down and down they go,” Semirame remarked at her driest. “Hemmer, Vale, Singh, take a look below.” To Thian she added, Mark ’em as they pass you, Thian, so’s you know ’em to bring ’em back up, like you did the crews in the Phobos Sphere.

He could see her wide grin, her teeth showing brightly in his visor. He nodded, getting a touch of each of them as the troopers imperturbably slid down the ramp and started examining the direction of the belt.

“Found a whole bay or holding level full of... workers? Sir? Sir?” another trooper reported. “Smells bad but no garbage.”

“Got enough light to send me back a scan, Wixell?”

“Do my best. Place’s as dark as...” Wixell paused, cleared her throat and went on. “Dark, sir.”

Thian watched his wrist unit and the scan came up, lumps of darkness then illuminated by a slowly moving beam of light.

“The workers,” Thian said when he saw the tool extension crossed lifelessly on the front of the creature. “Standing by for orders from the queen?”

“Can’t move any farther in, sir,” Wixell went on. “Place is stuffed with them, and the ceiling’s just high enough for them to lie down, or whatever it is they’re doing. More vegetable stink too.”

“Any other exit from the...” Semirame paused, grimacing as she tried to find an appropriate word.

“Stable?” Thian suggested.

“Stables are for living things. That’s a garage,” she said, sounding disgusted.

“No sir, blank walls.”

“C’mon back then, Wixell.”

“Sir?” Another scout reported in. “Found a bigger tunnel, leads down and straight ahead for several hundred meters.” Her voice had an edge of excitement. “Big enough for a queen, I think, sir. I’m getting static from the GC, so I’ll take readings.”

“Do that, Mocmurra.” Thian could see the commander grinning.

“Go on, Thian. I’ll call them.” She jerked her thumb toward the slide and then her finger in the direction Thian should go. “Captain Lyon’s on his way, Mocmurra. Wait for him, will ya? Bessy, Trainor, scout ahead for the captain.”

Thian trotted across to the light held by the figure at the opening to the tunnel’s slit. It wasn’t very wide, but then the queens weren’t either; they were tall.

“This way, sir,” Mocmurra said; the sturdy marine was grinning over her discovery. “Only one the size for Humans.”

“Anyone know where Grm is?” Thian asked, realizing he hadn’t caught sight of the ’Dini since it had entered.

“It was with me, sir. It’s up ahead.”

“Let’s move it, then,” Thian said. It wouldn’t do for a ’Dini specialist to get hurt or captured by the Hivers. He picked up his feet and ran down the straight tunnel, blessing the visibility of the visor.

It’s okay, Thian, came Clancy’s reassuring thought.

Thian kept running, trying to keep the nail-studded bootheels from hitting the tunnel floor too loudly, just in case the queen could feel vibrations. He had nearly run Grm down when the ’Dini appeared in front of him, at the T-junction. Actually, it was more than a T, for additional tunnels, all queen height, opened up like a delta. Nine more.

THIS WAY, Grm said, pointing to the first one on the left-hand side, its poll eye gleaming with excitement and the fur at an almost perpendicular angle to its body. When Thian would have moved forward, it held up one flipper, bringing it around to its mouth to indicate a necessity for stealth. Then Semirame yanked at Thian’s sleeve and slipped in front of him. Well, she was right, of course, to guard him. They cautiously moved forward, placing their feet noiselessly.

An old snatch of a song—with catlike tread, upon our way we steal—sprang to his mind.

No sound at all, we never speak a word, Alison Ann’s voice continued.

Tracking me again? Thian said, amused that Gravy was in touch.

A fly’s footfall would be distinctly heard, was Semirame’s addition, surprising a gasp out of Thian. Just happened to remember it, she added with a touch of bashful humor in her voice. Thian grinned. The commander’s mental tone was quite different from her vocal one, and far more revealing of her personality than her spoken words.

Another smell impinged on their senses.

Queen stink? Semirame asked Thian.

Heavy sting-pzzt, that’s for sure. Thian tried to ignore the concentration of that phenomenon, though the body armor did help. Tell Mocmurra to get more readings. He heard her give the order. My sister Zara’s the only one of us who’s been close to a queen. Sam didn’t mention smell as a factor in his confrontation with her. And nothing recorded about the ambience in her ... quarters... suggests a poisonous emanation. Of course, we had space suits when we were on the Great Sphere, but the vacuum of space would have erased any residual odors.

Semirame had caught up to Grm and her halt was so abrupt that Thian walked into her. She pointed to her right and Thian saw the opening and what was beyond it, as plain in his visor as if they’d been in full light—a queen, standing, with her groomers, her upper limbs extended for the attentions of her minions.

She isn’t that big, was Thian’s first thought.

She isn’t? Where are you? Clancy demanded brusquely. That’s the Admiral’s question, not mine.

A meter thirty centimeters, give or take a centimeter, Thian said, looking at Semirame, who nodded though she kept her visor focused on the queen.

Grm tugged at Thian’s arm and Thian leaned down to let Grm speak softly in his ear.

SHE IS NOT BIG. SHE IS OLD.

Thian passed on that information, though how Grm could tell the creature’s age was beyond him.

I’ll go in, he told Semirame, at the same time he announced that intention to Clancy.

NO!!! came at him from two directions and he shook his head against the blast.

Semirame looked at him, her eyes hidden by the visor, but there was no mistaking the negative posture of her body or her raised hand, ready to clout him if he moved.

All right then. You go first, Rame, he said, trying to sound pleasant when he wanted to lift her up and shake her for being so damned cautious about his Talented self, when he could react faster in his own defense than anyone else could because he’d instantly sense injurious intent.

Semirame must have caught some of that, because she lowered her hand and shrugged. Carefully she entered the queen’s quarters, Thian with equal stealth right behind her, so they were almost moving in tandem.

This is much bigger than I expected, Thian said, and Semirame gave a barely perceptible nod of agreement.

Describe! Clancy demanded. Admiral talking, he added a second later in an explanatory fashion.

Thian could just see the scene, with Ashiant stiff with apprehension.

The main room is say thirty meters by thirty meters and half that to the ceiling. It’s crammed with bodies, her attendants, and there’s a ledge against one wall, and against the wall perpendicular to it, another sort of seat—it may be where she extrudes her eggs ...

Yeah, it does look like a birthing stool with the big hole in the back and a sort of tube opening in the wall, Semirame said, then added in a tone of disgust, I don’t know why I’m ’pathing. We could be roaring and this lot wouldn’t hear us. We’re right in front of them—they’ve got to know there are three individuals staring at them. And something just scurried over my feet... didn’t even notice it was canted to one side doing so. Hey, wait a minute, Grm.

It doesn’t hear you, Rame, Thian said, quickly following the ’Dini as it moved farther into the room. Grm did have the good sense to move slowly, but the ’Dini was determined to see all it could of the habitat of its lifelong enemy. He caught up with Grm and planted one hand firmly on its shoulder, tightening his grip when the ’Dini tried to evade. He squeezed his fingers to make certain Grm knew it wasn’t supposed to go on unattended.

Look at the walls, Thian, Semirame said urgently, and Thian glanced upward, having been far more aware of the queen and her bustling attendants. He really hadn’t noticed more than the size of the room. Now he saw that on three walls, just above the height of his head, there were glowing screens or monitors.

Thian watched long enough to be aware of changes, rippling top to bottom of the panel, as if scrolling.

CAN YOU SEND SAMPLE?

Only if you and the Admiral stop roaring at me suddenly. I damned near jumped onto something, Thian said testily. Rame, tape a recording of the side panels. I can focus on the one she’s watching from where I am now. He lifted his wrist com, activating the record touch button, and grabbing Grm’s arm before it took advantage of his need of both hands and got loose. Grm did pull its feet out of the way of several rapidly moving attendants who passed where it had been standing and went out through a hole in the wall. Get Mocmurra in here too, to record the smells.

I think Sam would call them pheromones, Clancy said.

Then something rammed into Thian’s heel and he lifted his foot as another variety of attendant charged out, only momentarily thwarted by his being in its way.

Place is crawling with bugs and beetles, Thian said, dipping his hand so the watchers could see the rammer skittering into the heap that surrounded the queen. With two of her nether limbs, she was tilted slightly backward, her egg-bulb just clearing the floor. Thian could see that it was being coated—or cleaned, he wasn’t sure which—by those surrounding that section of her.

Being sure he wasn’t going to walk on anything scuttling about, Thian backed up so that his recorder would catch the full screen of the front wall the queen was watching. She opened her mouth. Thian and Rame both froze. A creature, slightly larger than most of her attendants, held up a lump. She lowered her head slightly, opening a maw, and the lump was inserted. She seemed to inhale the material because it certainly didn’t go down her throat as a lump.

Before Semirame could answer, Thian was distracted when something connected hard against his shin. He danced off that foot, then replaced it to lift the other and avoid what was scurrying about.

Keep the camera still, Clancy said.

Frankly, I couldn’t tell, Clancy said, but the experts sure are excited.

Why? Semirame asked in her droll fashion. We’d need a Hiver to decipher it ... maybe even read it, and none of ’em are talking to us.

If it keeps the experts happy, Clancy said, his mental tone amused, let ’em try it.

Wonder what would happen if we could replicate this for the Heinlein queen? Thian said mischievously. He heard Clancy’s mental chortle and Semirame’s snort.

Ah, that would be sheer mental cruelty, Thian, Semirame said, after ’porting her into a functional sphere so she could start it up for us and then whisking her back to prison.

Thian grinned in the green darkness around him at the memory of that incident. Well, the ploy had worked and the queen had shown them the sequence of start-up controls that the Human engineers had been unable to fathom. They’d ’ported the queen without the knowledge of the Phobos Base commander, but the tactic had worked.

You’re right, Semirame said wistfully.

Admiral asks could you set up a surveillance unit in her quarters? Clancy asked.

Sure. But I’ll need a night-vision unit and some heavyduty stickum, Semirame said. She added quickly, And it has to be an odor-free adhesive!

Can do, Clancy said. Just hang in there a few minutes, if you can.

We can, Semirame blithely assured him.

On their way, Clancy said.

To get it really stuck proper in position, I’m going to have to stand on your shoulders, I think, Thian. You’re good for something now and then, you know. Semirame gave him a picture of her, patting his head. Only she was on stilts and he was much, much shorter.

Suddenly Thian heard a mechanical whirring and air was blowing against him.

That’s odd, Semirame said.

Thian felt Grm tug at his sleeve and he leaned down:

THEY SMELL US, the ’Dini murmured in his ear.

Grm seems to think we smell, Thian said.

I don’t doubt that in the least, Semirame said. They gotta have clean air.

If they smell us, why don’t they see us? Thian asked.

I dunno, and I’m as happy they can’t. Hurry up with that spy-eye, will ya? If they’re cleansing the air, they might look for ... Thanks. A package landed against Rame’s chest and she clutched it firmly to her.

Good catch, Clancy said.

Now Semirame pushed Thian to the back wall, gestured for him to make his hands into a footrest. He shook his head, grinning, spread his legs slightly and ’ported her to his shoulders. Wincing, he also lightened her not insubstantial weight before her heavy boots could dig welts into his shoulders. Instinctively, he put his hands up on her muscular calves to steady her. He could feel her smear on the adhesive with quick movements, then the pressure as she stuck the surveillance unit into the goo.

Can you see, Clancy? She asked.

Now’s the time to know, Clancy, she said, in her best have-you-done-as-I-told-you commander manner.

Thian ’ported her back to the floor, and she gave a curt flick of her fingers to indicate they should leave. Grm tried to resist Thian pulling it along, but with the air circulation blowing across his face, Thian really did think it was high time to leave.

We got lots of pictures, Thian. Landing party’s recording all over the facility. Clancy sent each of the teams night-vision remotes, Semirame said, and the group at the entrance now stepped back to allow them to leave the queen’s quarters. As soon as she was a ways down the passageway, Semirame gave low-voiced orders to reassemble in the main chamber.

There was a substantial breeze flowing across the chamber when they got there.

“All units here?” she asked, scanning the figures in front of her.

“All present and accounted for,” said the squad sergeant. “Let’s get outta here before they try to find who’s making their house smell,” Semirame said, and raising her arm in forward sweep, trotted up out of the collection point. Pushing up her visor, she ran backward as she checked again that all who had entered were coming out. Then she turned forward again and kept up the trot the short distance to the shuttle. She stood by the door, with the sergeant, checking once more. In minutes, everyone was seated, ready for the ’port back to the Washington.

We’re ready, Thian told Clancy.

Steady as you go, Clancy answered.

“Sir.” Having got the commander’s attention, Wixell pointed through the window.

They just had time to see low-slung creatures flowing up out of the collection facility, waving antennae about.

“Trying to find out where the smell comes from,” Semirame said, chuckling. “Have to remember to neutralize us stinking types the next time we do a reconnaissance.”

Thian chuckled. “I wasn’t sweating. Were you?”

“Naw,” Semirame replied. “Might be our boots.” She looked down at her dirt-stained footwear. “Or our uniforms. Always did say the dye’s got a vicious pong to it.”

A moment later Thian nodded approval as the shuttle landed so smoothly only he and Semirame were aware that they had been transported the thirty-six thousand kilometers to the geosynchronous orbit above the surface of the planet—though there was a startled look on Wixell’s face, as she’d been facing one of the two portholes.

Should we run a GC on us to see if we do stink enough to register with those ultrasensitive queens? Semirame asked, cocking her head at Thian. And what we smell like?

Whatever she might have replied was lost in the next second. Someone pounded on the door, to indicate that they should undo the hatch. Instantly the entire squad had weapons at the ready, aimed at the hatch.

Nothing wrong with their reflexes. “Re-lax, troops. We’re back.”

A gusty sigh of relief came from all sides, and with it a whiff of garlic.

“Garlic!” Thian said to Semirame.

“Yeah.” Just noticed. Wonder if that’s relevant, but we’ll use a stink ’graph just to be on the safe side.

Garlic used to be a specific against witches, ghosties, ghoulies and things that go bump in the night, Clancy said.

Whose side are you on? Thian asked while Semirame muttered orders through her wrist com. Then she smiled up at him, giving her head one sharp nod to show that the pong test would be accomplished.

“Sir,” said the boat deck watch officer, “Admiral’s compliments, and can you report to him immediately.”

I’ll just hold ’em up a moment and then they can file past Exit Five and get odorized, Semirame told Thian.

He waved his hand at her as he exited the ship and strode to the nearest lift, busy formulating his report to the Admiral. He’s going to love the garlic.