thirteen
The acuity of Pierre Laney’s nose had never been
put to such unusual usage. His infallible organ caught the subtle
nuances of each queen’s pheromone output, the minor variations of
the quarters, so that when the details were replicated in the
hundred different sites that had been made available on the Main
Continent, the queens were undisturbed. That is, until workers were
sent out to cultivate the fields that had been left behind and
found only raw turned earth instead of ready-to-harvest
crops.
“We will add just a soupçon,” Pierre told
Captain Osullivan, pinching thumb and forefinger together, “of the
essence so unique to the world Prime Thian explored. This
ingredient may, in the long term, be what is needed to neutralize
the aggressive ones and turn our... belligerent queens into tame
pussy cats, like yours.” He warily eyed the captain’s tricolor
barque cat, Tabitha, asleep on her pillow in the corner of
Osullivan’s ready room.
Osullivan snorted. “You have only seen her asleep,
Pierre,” he said.
“Which is what we want our queens to be, asleep. If
my soupçon is successful, use it as a spray, dropping as a
gentle rain upon the place below.” He smiled beatifically at
Osullivan, who tried to remember the source of what was obviously a
quote.
“Indeed,” he said ambiguously and gestured for
Pierre to go on.
“And it can be applied anytime to the surface. And
renewed as necessary. We will infect all Hiver-occupied worlds with
the serenity of the most ancient Hive in this part of the galaxy!”
His vibrant voice roused Tab, who looked sleepily at him for a
moment, and then resumed her nap. His upraised hands indicated his
exultation in discovering an answer to the vital question of how to
keep the queens where they were.
“Excellent news, Pierre,” Osullivan said, realizing
that praise for such a resolution—if it worked—was in order.
“Excellent!” He rose from his desk and came around, clapping Pierre
on the back and accepting the Gallic embrace with his usual aplomb.
“Let’s tell the good news to our team and have them forward it to
Earth Prime and the High Council. I must tell you”—he laid a hand
on Pierre’s back to guide him to the Talents’ lounge—“that I was
dubious about so simple an answer to such an immense problem. But
you’ve done it!”
“I live in hope,” Pierre said with a very Gallic
shrug, a complete change from his previous exuberance.
To effect Operation Switch, Perry asked for more
Primes and as many strong T-2 kinetics as could be spared for the
several days the transfers would take. After all, it was not just
the queens but all their workers, attendants and eggs that had to
be moved. Damia allowed Afra as well as Kaltia and Morag to be
nominated for the teams.
It’ll be good experience and this won’t take too
long, will it? Damia asked her father. We’re between loads
and our apprentices can handle anything else that might come in
with me as merge.
I’m sending Gollee too, by the way. He needs a
break.
This will be a break? Damia asked with some
asperity.
Her father chuckled. I’d borrow Zara too, but
Elizara has told me that her... work... is in its concluding phase.
So she said she’d come. She can lend heft to a merge. She’s deeply
interested in the project. She’s volunteered her youngest, a strong
kinetic T-2, for an unparalleled opportunity to meet so many of his
peers.
How old is Pietro?
Old enough... There was a brief pause.
Same age as Barry, your grandmother just tartly informed me. I’m
borrowing Rojer and Asia from Second Fleet.
Oh, that’ll be so nice for the children. We do
miss them. And don’t you dare say, “Only a thought away,” she
added in a fierce tone.
Wouldn’t dare, her father replied.
I almost wish I could join them. But I can’t and
that’s that! Damia said. I do hope it’s worth the effort.
We can wait and see. The Xh-33 at least allows
us to try the theory that the alteration of the local pheromones
will have the desired effect.
Are the militants giving you more
trouble?
Oh, them! If we can prove we’ve got the queens
planet-bound, and we release enough of the newly discovered M-type
worlds, they’ll find something else to complain about.
Damia could almost see her father shrugging his
shoulders. She wanted to remind him that he was not, as he
sometimes assumed, invulnerable.
I’m not, you know, he replied. But
nearly. And I never make claims of being infallible.
Not with Mother to keep you on your
toes.
A chuckle trailed off into silence.
The Xh-33 planet was not at the other end of the
galaxy, but with the help of the occupants and their Towers, the
various personnel carriers landed in orderly fashion in the boat
bays of the various ships of the Fourth Fleet that were to host
them. Perry and Adela on the Asimov would host Elizara and
her youngest son, Pietro. Gollee Gren and Barry Raven came in to
the Beijing to be greeted officially by a cheerful Captain
Smelkoff. Afra, Morag and Kaltia went to the Nova Scotia and
an enthusiastic welcome by Captain Ellen Hogarth, while Rojer, with
his ’Dinis and Asia, graced the decks of the M.S. HGHL to
the delight of Captain Ghl. Xahra was to be a guest of the
Galaxy-class Strongbow and was instantly impressed by
Captain Halsted, who had given up his quarters as being the only
ones suitable for a Prime on his smaller ship.
As soon as everyone had arrived and had a chance to
look through the schedule, the Primes and the T-2’s assembled for a
briefing session on the Asimov in the Talents’ lounge.
Not as big as the Washington’s, Rojer
remarked to Asia.
Bigger than the Columbia’s, though,
Asia said, and Rojer gave her a quick look at her suddenly meek
tone.
Don’t you dare go all modest and nervous on
me.
Oh, I won’t. She grinned up at him and
reached for his hand, squeezing it. But it is bigger....
Oh, is that gorgeous woman Xahra?
Perry’s sister. She’s pouting. No, she’s not.
She’s smirking.
She looks haughty to me.
Oh, she is that too, Rojer agreed. And Xahra
was certainly stunning in an exotic way. Odd that she was stolid
Perry’s sister. He much preferred Elizara’s tranquil beauty.
Why, thank you, Rojer, Elizara said, nudging
the lad beside her. “Come, Pietro, I want to introduce you to Rojer
and Asia Lyon.”
Pietro might be the same age as Barry Raven, but he
had a great deal more poise than the Denebian.
The result of so much exposure to Talents at
Blundell, Elizara replied, smiling graciously, and he’s
shortly to get a Tower assignment. Ah, her mental tone sighed.
They grow up so fast these days.
Morag and Kaltia arrived, squealed with delight to
see their brother with Asia and rushed over to the couple.
Not all of them do, Rojer replied like any
unimpressed older sibling, hugging first Morag and then Kaltia
because he was glad to see them and they really couldn’t be classed
as kids anymore. Working on Clarf with Laria had subtly altered
them, despite their reversion to juvenile exuberance.
His father had a slight smile on his face as he
looked over the Talents already present. Adela, assisted by Navy
stewards, was serving hot canapès and looking slightly
nervous.
“Never thought I’d be able to sneak up on you,
Afra.” Afra turned to grip Gollee Gren’s extended hand, savoring
once more the essence of the man who had been so much a part of his
professional life.
Looking your age finally, are you? Afra
said, noting the grizzle of silver in the T-2’s dark hair and the
crinkle of lines about the light green eyes.
Actually, it’s constant proximity to Gwyn-Raven
offspring and the rigors of dealing with all those eager young
Talents.
So this is work as well as play? Afra
asked.
Gollee rolled his eyes. A bit of both and indeed
a testing time for Barry, Pietro and... He paused to grimace
slightly.... Morag and Kaltia.
Morag’s old enough, Afra said with a slight
nod of his head. Did well at Clarf during the
emergency.
They both did. You’ve a grand family to be proud
of. Ah, and Rojer is still protecting Asia, I see.
Afra chuckled. She’s well able for him to think
so.
The exchange had taken brief seconds, for now they
heard ’Dini voices behind them as Afra’s Trpl and Rojer’s Gil and
Kat came down the passageway. Trpl was taller by a full head—human
head—than Rojer’s two and was obviously regaling its juniors on the
part it had played in nursing the four victims of the Clarf
disaster. More muted human voices echoed respectfully as the naval
Talents who would form part of the whole merge arrived.
A goodly crew, Gollee said, nodding as he
was recognized by the Fleet Talents, and he accepted their salutes
with a wave of his hand. One of the women looked apprehensive.
“They won’t bite, Mimi, I’m here to protect you.”
“Then we’ve nothing to fear,” an ensign said,
grinning.
“Asaf Katzin, isn’t it?” Gollee replied. A good
kinetic T-3.
“Do you know who we all are?” Asaf asked, stopping
in surprise.
“He’d better or Prime Raven will replace him with
one of you,” Afra said, so solemn-faced that Ensign Katzin goggled
slightly until Gollee’s grin reassured him.
“But you wouldn’t have had the chance to
meet Afra Lyon of Iota Aurigae,” Gollee said.
“I think you can tell who’s a Prime in there
without naming names.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Mimi advised her crewmate,
winking coquettishly at Gren, who winked right back.
“If we’re all here,” Perry said when they had
entered the room, “I’d like to get on with the briefing. We’re
doing this in four teams, with a Prime as merge, assisted by the
naval Talents. Since we can all be in contact, we can each use the
generators of our host ships. Xahra, I’m putting Gollee and Pietro
with you on the Strongbow. Rojer will have Barry and Asia to
back him up on the HGHL. Afra will be merge with his daughters.
I’ve spread out the stronger Talents from the Asimov.” He
nodded deferentially toward Captain Osullivan. “Elizara and I will
lead the Asimov team. We might need to do some switching
around after our first day, but that’s to be expected when none of
us have ever done anything even remotely like what we are about to
do.”
Even Xahra nodded agreement with that, slightly
amused by her brother’s instructions.
“I have data files for all the queens we are
transferring and visuals for the Main Continent quarters they’re to
inhabit. Fortunately for us, the Hivers’ unvarying patterns are of
inordinate help to us.” He tapped his chest, grinning. “According
to our expert, Pierre Laney”—he gestured to the Nose, who was
listening avidly to the briefing—“the quarters of any individual
queen might smell slightly different...”
“Indubitably, they do,” Pierre said, tapping his
nose with a sage expression on his face.
“Yes, but the layout for every installation is
exactly the same. We have visuals on each separate facility, but
they’re all much of a muchness. Our communications people have been
able to transfer the wall screens. At least they hope so.” Perry
grimaced slightly. “But they haven’t found out how or where to turn
them on or off.”
“They have very small creatures to do that,” Rojer
said, “as we discovered when we started up the sphere at Phobos
Moon Base.”
“How small?” Perry said, blinking at Rojer in
surprise.
Rojer indicated the first two joints of his index
finger. “Their tunnels ran everywhere on the sphere. Doubt their
holes would be visible.”
“They are but seemed to go nowhere,” Perry said,
looking down at his notepad and checking something off. “We’ll see
what happens.” Then he looked around at his audience. “We’re hoping
that we’ve done our... renovations ... so well that the queens
won’t notice. They will, however, notice the fields. We can’t
transfer the crops. We’re good but not that good.” His chuckle was
answered by smiles. Xahra rolled her eyes at her brother’s attempt
at humor. “So, if there are any questions about procedures, I—and
the staff officers—are at your disposal.”
“Body weights?” Afra asked.
“Good point, sir,” Perry said, pointing his stylus
at the Capellan. “We’ve estimated you will be lifting the
equivalent of a large drone with the queens, likewise each stable
of her workers.” He gave a shrug.
“But it’s animate cargo,” Afra said.
“That’s why we have designated teams. Watch your
remotes and catch as many of the queen’s attendants as possible in
the first ’port and pick up the remainder on a second trip if
necessary,” Perry replied. “You can take the workers by
rows...”
“They make it handy enough,” Rojer said, wondering
if the creatures would even know they’d been lifted.
“Wouldn’t the eggs be fragile?” Xahra asked.
“The ones in with the Heinlein queen have a thick
outer coating,” Rojer said. “Reasonable caution is all you’d
need.”
“They are in a storage tube, at the back of the
queen’s quarters,” Perry said, and brought up the visual. “Once you
know the shape, ’port that. They won’t crack.” His manner suggested
that the Primes were more than capable of handling the
transfer.
“You said there were little creatures, Rojer?”
Gollee asked. “What happens if some get left behind and come
looking for Momma?”
“You will, of course, check on each of the
facilities to be sure that none are left behind,” Perry said, a bit
on his dignity.
“The queen’ll make more if we lose a few,” Rojer
said.
“The wounded queens have been steadily replacing
the attendants that were killed in the war,” Perry said. “According
to Thian’s report, when he removed specimens for study, the queen
would count...” He broke off and shot a glance at Pierre Laney, who
winked back when Perry did not finish the sentence.
“Noses, is what they count,” Pierre said blithely,
arms folded over his chest where he sat beside Captain
Osullivan.
“Noses it is then,” Perry said with a slight grin.
“They didn’t appear to be concerned in any way that they were
missing attendants, and promptly replaced them.”
“It’s the field and the crops that’s going to throw
them, isn’t it?” Elizara said.
“Yes, but there’s nothing we can do about that. And
some of the fields they’ll now possess will be in bad condition,”
Perry went on. “We’re hoping that the queens will just”—he gave a
shrug—“replant or harvest or whatever. Again, their adherence to
tradition includes their plantings. The same crops appear time and
again. Of course, not in the same order, because some of the
vegetables require different soil and/or more watering. But that
should be a challenge to each queen—to put her individual domain
back in order as soon as possible.”
“Well, let’s hope they take up the challenge in the
spirit in which it is presented, and more space to expand,” said
Captain Osullivan. “Any more questions?” He looked around the
room.
When there were none, Captain Osullivan rose. “Then
let us proceed to the main hangar. The Washington is a grand
big ship, but we wish all of our Talents to be seated in the same
chamber for tonight’s feast. Or would it be easier to ’port
yourselves down?”
“Those of us who can should do so,” Perry said,
“leaving the lifts for those who can’t.”
He took Adela’s hand in his and disappeared.
Immediately half the assembly followed suit.
“I could take you, Captain Osullivan, if you don’t
mind that kind of transport.” Elizara said, “and Pietro can convey
. you, Mr. Laney.”
“Pierre, please, Elizara.” Then the Nose turned to
Pietro and spread both hands. “When you’re rea—”
“Neatly done,” Osullivan said with a grin.
“Show-off,” she said, but the next instant she was
facing Osullivan on the deck of the main hangar where a long
U-shaped formation had been set out, with white napery that
glistened in the overhead lights, set for the many diners. At one
side, in a straight line, the captains and executive officers of
the other ships awaited the arrival of the Talented guests. The
main hangar had been cleansed of its usual grease and oil and was
redolent with aromas activating everyone’s salivary glands.
“Ah, superb!” Pierre said, lifting his hand,
forefinger and thumb meeting, and then he inhaled deeply.
“Magnificent! May I escort you to your seat, Elizara?”
And it was a magnificent meal. Several times
the captain thanked the Primes for bringing in the raw
materials—fresh meats, fish, vegetables, cheeses, fruits and sweets
which the Washington’s galley had transformed into such an
elegant repast.
Once the meal was completed and everyone sated with
good food and wine, Perry stood and suggested that a good night’s
rest would be essential for the morning’s endeavor.
The guests were escorted to personnel carriers in
the smaller boat bays and returned to the ships that accommodated
them.
The next morning after a solid breakfast to
sustain them in their labors, the Talents gathered in the cabins
designated for their use: comformable couches, screens, an
expediter and engineer as well as assistants to keep track of the
progress on screen and in notations. To one side of the large
screens were a big schematic of a queen’s facility and the map
showing which queen was to be transferred to which place on the
Main Continent. The targets of each of the four teams were a
different color.
“Very organized,” was Xahra’s comment when Captain
Halsted led her into the mess room of the Strongbow, which
had been converted for this usage.
“Very well done,” Gollee Gren agreed as he and
Pietro followed her. “As good as I have back in Blundell,” he added
amiably, and caught startled thoughts from both T-1’s.
Xahra smiled as she checked on the other amenities.
There was a courteous tap on the door before the five minor Talents
on board the Strongbow reported themselves ready for duty
and stood at attention by the padded chairs arranged behind the
three major Talents.
“Shall I stand by?” Halsted asked politely.
“It won’t bother us,” Xahra said, and took her
seat, gesturing for all to be seated. “Do you have the order of...
transfer, expediter?”
“Yes ma’am,” was the prompt reply.
“Engineer, prepare to effect the gestalt. Gollee,
let’s start Operation Switch... to number fifty-four green.”
The expediter highlighted number fifty-four on the
map, and its destination on the Main Continent, and the two
quarters came up on screen: the one with its occupants grooming
their queen, the other empty and ready to receive its new tenants.
The generator hum increased.
“Gollee, merge. Pietro, Sam, Jennifer, Elias, Amos,
Kathleen...” Xahra paused just the moment to gather the merged
minds to her, then: “NOW!”
A sudden deep noise in the generators and then the
queen with every creature, was transported from their original
premises into their new domain.
“Let’s wait for it,” Xahra said, eyes going from
one screen to the next. “Ooops. One just entered, stage right,” she
said, and flicked it to its new quarters.
A squeak was plainly heard.
For a long moment, the queen sat still, then
slowly, majestically, she rose to her hind limbs, staring straight
ahead of her.
“Aha,” Gollee said, “she’s noticed the screen isn’t
hers!”
From under her and around, movement could be seen,
but even with the remotes set up to receive images in the usual
darkness of a Hive, the watchers could not tell where and what was
sent. Then, all of a sudden, a perceivable green glow bathed the
queen. She sat back down.
“Suspects merely a power outage,” Gollee said,
chuckling.
The queen had just settled back when she rose and
scrambled with unexpected speed down her tunnel... beyond the
remote’s range.
“Can we get an outside fix on transfer fifty-four?”
Xahra asked.
“I’m working on screen transfer, ma’am,” said the
expediter. “On screen three.”
That showed the outside of the collection point.
The queen, scuttling with breakneck speed and followed by her male
attendants, raced to the top of her facility and stood, slowly
turning to survey the fields. She moved her lower limbs.
“The queen of all she surveys,” Gollee
remarked.
“I don’t think she likes what she sees,” Pietro
said.
“Not one little tiny bit,” Gollee agreed.
“Let’s get her workers in place, shall we? She’s
going to be calling them and they’d better answer or we’ve blown
the maneuver,” Xahra said, and the generators built up speed.
“Expediter, let’s see the garages there.”
The screens split into several smaller sections.
Quickly Xahra leaned into the merge and one stable after another
the workers were transferred from one facility to the other.
Immediately, the ranks began to move.
“We got that in time.”
Thanks for the warning, Xahra. Perry’s voice
came to them. I think we caught number one in her morning nap.
Ah, now she’s waking up to the switch. Damn it. Why couldn’t we
have transferred their screen designs too?
Number fifty-four is sending her children out in
their hordes, Gollee said as the ranks came trundling up out of
the building, two by two, each file turning off and up into the
fields. If she’s setting them to work, she seems to be settling
in her... new quarters all right enough.
The trampled fields were farther from the queens’
quarters, as each had tried to protect her home grounds. The queen
remained in position, slowly turning to be sure the workers were
reaching the damaged fields before she came down on all legs and
descended into the dark interior and back to her Hive. She arrived
and could be seen on the remote putting her face close to the
screen, before she backed off and resumed the position in which she
had first been seen.
“One down and fifty-three more to go,” Gollee
said.
“We have the eggs to do first, you know,” Xahra
said. “Let’s see if we can get them in the one basket.”
That was the trickiest part, as they all admitted,
trying to keep the ovoids from slipping away from their ’port. The
first time they tried, half the eggs eluded their grasp. Some fell
out onto the deserted floor of the queen’s Hive. These had to be
gathered up.
Get the sides, Gollee and Pietro, I’ll get the
top and bottom, Xahra said.
Why not, Pietro said, think a sleeve
around them so they can’t escape?
That’s not a bad concept, Gollee
agreed.
A stocking is better because it has a toe and
nothing can slip out the bottom, was Xahra’s amendment.
Better and better.
Then let’s do it. Ready? Xahra asked her
crew.
“When you are, ma’am,” said Amos, who was the
receiving ’path.
This time the transfer worked smoothly.
“Whee, that’s a ’port and a half,” Gollee
said.
“You’re just out of practice,” Xahra said with a
teasing contempt in her voice. “Expediter, may we have the
coordinates for number fifty-three.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Let’s not be so sloppy this time. On the double,
queen and her gang first, the workers second and the eggs third.
Then we can watch the queen react, said Xahra.
Now, now, we have to learn the tricks of doing
these mass ’ports, Gollee said cheerfully.
Xahra shot him a startled look. What do you
mean?.
I mean that if this proves successful in
preventing another war on Xh-33, we’re apt to be doing it on other
occupied planets where we need to prevent similar
massacres.
We are? Pietro looked delighted with the
prospect even if Xahra didn’t.
Speak for yourself, Gollee, she said rather
tartly.
Oh, I do. And we all obey Earth Prime. A
touch of reprimand colored his tone, but he had carefully spoken
only to Xahra. He could see the flush on her cheeks. “Let’s handle
number fifty-three, shall we?”
And they did, with expedition and efficiency,
missing not one egg or tiny scurrier.
Sir, said Prime Thian to Earth Prime from the
Washington, in orbit around its second target Hiver-occupied
planet. This one has twelve empty facilities. It was one of
those that sent its sphere after us... or rather, came out to join
the sphere heading toward the system with the right kind of
primary.
Really? replied Jeff Raven with suddenly active
interest. Just twelve? Been down on the surface yet?
We’ve done initial probes, sir, and can
investigate if you wish. There seems to be a lot of arable land
left for them to expand onto.
We need to have GC readings on at least twelve
Hives to be certain of the basic... shall I say, health and welfare
... of the queens. The more data we have for comparison, the better
we can plan the containment of the Hiver queens.
Thian chuckled. As you wish. And, ah, how’s
Operation Switch doing?
Jeff Raven chuckled. With the massed might of
eight fine Primes, the switcheroo is going very well indeed. Got
two more days of shifting to do. They average about ten a day. Bit
tricky getting those eggs from one basket to another. Young Pietro
thought of a sleeve and Xahra upped that notion to a stocking just
about the time Elizara thought of a tube bandage.
Yes, Thian replied, remembering how they had
been stored on the Great Sphere, that would be tricky. They
don’t make a neat package, like workers do.
However, the ones that fell out don’t seem to
have been harmed, nor did their fall concern the queens. They had
more on their minds than wobbling eggs underfoot. Jeff Raven
sent Thian a flash of a report of the queens’ marshaling workers to
the fields. Your father, your brother and your two sisters have
all performed very well, Gollee tells me.
You sent Gollee Gren out there?
Why not? A change is as good as a rest. Broaden
his outlook on life. There was a pause. Your grandmother
informs me that Gollee Gren’s outlook is quite broad enough. Get me
some GC readings and data for comparisons, will you, Thian? We want
to try Pierre Laney’s gentle rain from heaven on that planet and
see if it is as effective as we hope it will be at Xh-33. Smell may
be more powerful than a missile after all. A chuckle. The
deterrent of the future—alter the outlook by altering the ambient
smells. Wish I could apply that to certain elements on
Earth.
Then the touch of Jeff Raven’s mind left
Thian’s.
“Anything wrong, Thian honey?” Alison Ann Greevy
asked him.
“More tunnel crawling,” he said with a sigh. “To
get comparison stinks and all the data we can find.”
She laughed, rumpling his hair. “You know you love
it when you stand right in front of a queen and she doesn’t so much
as give two hoots ’n’ a holler.”
“I do like that part.” Thian smoothed back his
hair. “It’s that damned hazmat suit... and decontam and deodorizing
afterwards.”
“Yeah, but that suit keeps the sting-pzzt out,
doesn’t it?” Gravy said.
“It does.” He rose from the couch and took the four
long strides to the door into the bridge. “I better tell the
Admiral. Oh, and honey, Operation Switch is going along
well.”
“Wonders will never cease!”
“I hope not.”
Thian did, however, shorten the time of the
onerous assignment by organizing twelve teams, all eager for a
chance to do a live inspection of a Hive facility. There were
enough T- 2’s and T-3’s in the First Fleet to accompany each team
in case of trouble. Not that one expected any from the aloof
queens, but he wasn’t about to have anyone under his guidance
become a victim. He wondered what could provoke a Hiver
queen to action—aside from checking her fields. Surely there must
have been some recognition among the queens on Xh-33 that they had
been removed from their original quarters?
Gravy went with him this time, and she was rather
more impressed than she had been from the visuals and all the
reports he had made. ,
“Sure is one thing to hear about and another to
see,” she remarked, having clung to his hand as they entered the
queen’s quarters.
With the familiarity of many such visits, his teams
collected the samples of air and soil both inside and outside the
facility, counted workers, checked to be sure none of them were
sporting new macelike accessories in their extendables and returned
to the Washington. By midafternoon, Thian was able to send
the carrier with the garnered samples and details back to Earth
Prime. He received the formula of the pheromone “gentle rain” that
was being used on Xh-33. This was to be disseminated in a spray
over the lands, to disperse through the soil and thus into the food
and the Hives.
“We’d have to check periodically,” the Admiral
said, shaking his head as if he didn’t quite believe that such an
expedient would suffice.
“I expect so, sir,” Thian agreed amiably. “But that
wouldn’t take more than one of the fast scouts, with a T-2 aboard,
instead of a Fleet.”
“True, true,” Ashiant said, still not truly
convinced, as Thian perceived from his body language.
“Your orders are now to leave this system and
proceed to the next one that’s been listed as
Hiver-occupied.”
Ashiant tapped in the relevant report. “Hmmm. Seven
days away at top speed. Ah well, one more on our way home. Thank
you, Thian.”
“Thian honey,” Gravy began that night as they made
ready for bed. “If we have to check out every single one of those
suspect systems on our way back, there’s no reason I can’t ask for
maternity leave, now is there? I mean, Laria’s working her Tower
and nav regs allow me to work till I get too clumsy ... and ...
well, would you mind being a father?”
Thian turned toward her, his face lighting up with
his delight. He crossed the distance between them and held her
fiercely to him.
“Mind? I’ve been hoping to persuade you to consider
it!”
“I don’t need much persuasion, Thian honey,” she
said pertly, and reached up to brush back his white lock before
framing his face in her hands. “In fact, I stopped prevention just
in case you were...”
His response showed her just how much he
appreciated her willingness. Laria might have the first new
generation of Lyons, but with such obvious cooperation, he and
Alison Ann would not be far behind. And a “happy event” would
certainly make the long Search worthwhile on a personal as well as
a professional level.
Operation Switch was completed two days later. In
several of the now abandoned hives, tiny creatures had been found
running circles and been ’ported to their respective new
homes.
While an atmosphere of celebration marked the final
evening meal on board the Asimov, attended by all the
participating Talents and the captains, every one involved was
tacitly hoping that the “gentle rain” would have a long-term
effect. Certainly the potential for another queens’ war on Xh-33
had been defused.
Captain Osullivan had orders from the High Council
to leave the Strongbow and the M.S. KLLM in orbit,
keeping a close watch, with Commander Makako in the Moon Base on
Xh-33. They had sufficient quantities of the gentle rain of Pierre
Laney’s compound to soak the ground: the pheromone compound would
permeate the atmosphere and drift down into the queens’
quarters.
The report from Thian Lyon in the First Fleet had
confirmed that the latest Hiver-occupied world he had investigated
was in no danger of erupting into dispute, and the pheromone spray
saturating the soil should have the necessary calming effect. If
the oldest Hiver-occupied world had never indulged in
overproduction of workers to require colonization, perhaps that had
been the original intent, not the constant emigrations and
“sterilization” of other planets and their indigenous life-forms.
Yet there were many questions unanswered. Those worlds that the
Hivers had occupied, or were occupying, had to be identified. In
the course of that wide-ranging survey, more planets could be made
available to Mrdinis and Humans.
“Our drives starward are not so different from the
Hivers’ after all,” Pierre remarked sotto voce to Captain
Osullivan.
“No, they’re not,” Etienne Osullivan replied. He
had entertained that thought on several occasions, with some
private chagrin. “Except that any world with an evolving
proto-sentient life-form is off limits to us and our Mrdini
allies.”
“True,” Pierre replied with a tight smile. “But
should we not also limit our aggrandizement when we have so
criticized another’s?”
“That is not for me to decide.” Osullivan was
extremely glad of that.
“Nor I. I merely make an observation. But this has
been the most stimulating task of my entire career,” Pierre went
on, idly turning his wineglass by its stem as he mused. Then he
lifted it to Osullivan. “This has been a marriage of the scientific
and the psychic.”
“Indeed it has,” said Osullivan, lifting his glass
to touch Pierre’s. “You might say God-sent.”
Pierre caught the pun and laughed appreciatively
before he finished the fine wine in his glass. “I am scarcely God
or a god, Captain, but I do have the finest nose in the galaxy. I
never once expected that my Talent would prove of such worth to my
profession.”
“We all serve, Pierre, each in our own way.”
Jeff Raven brought back to the Rowan in their
Callisto quarters the news that Zara’s research had borne
fruit.
“You mean, don’t you, that no fruit will be borne,”
said the Rowan, locked in her husband’s homecoming embrace. She
could feel the sense of accomplishment vibrating through his body
without needing to touch his mind.
“Whatever,” he said, chuckling at her correction.
He released her somewhat so that, with his arm draped around her
slender waist, they could walk into the dining room where dinner
awaited him. He appreciated that his wife preferred to cook their
meals. They enjoyed the tranquillity of their evening hours
together. Both were on call for emergencies, but both had also
trained their assistants in Blundell and Callisto Tower to
recognize a “real” problem from something that could be solved by
them or in the morning.
“Odd that the solution to both our major problems
should be linked to pheromones.”
“They certainly play a larger part in interactions
of all the known species than I ever realized,” Jeff Raven said as
he drew out her chair and seated her at the table. “Let’s just hope
that such simple remedies could be found to all our
problems.”
He filled their wineglasses before he sat down.
Then he inhaled deeply of the aromas wafting up from the covered
dishes on the hot plates. “This smells great!”
“It’s the taste that really matters,” the Rowan
said, and then waggled a finger at him. “Let’s think no more about
problems, love.”
Jeff smiled lovingly at her. “A toast first, to
Pierre and his nose, to our children and their children and to
those who will take our places: May they have the sense... and the
scents... to provide peace throughout the galaxy.”
“To peace!”