“We’re in the Warrish zone,” Torris said. “The Qtrans is at the end of the passage.”
His Second asked, “Will we be sent to the starship?”
Torris gave a noncommittal reply, “We’ll receive instructions.”
Eager to stretch his legs, Baswin said, “If we’re in home territory and out of the Earthers’ sight, I don’t have to sit in this motorchair and fake a nonexistent injury.”
“Wait until we reach the Qtrans,” Torris said.
At the bottom of the tunnel, they passed through another airlock. This barrier led to a room with rounded walls. A trio of Warrish men stood near the Qtrans cylinder. Their spiked hair, eyebrows and curled mustaches were dyed in bands of gold and brown. Two men wore green spacesuits and carried helmets under their arms. The third, a slim man dressed in a plain white tunic and fish-scaled leggings, was tapping on the control panel. All three were armed with prodders on their belts.
The tallest, a stern-faced man with a muscular build, lofted a striped eyebrow and demanded, “Who are you?”
As their spokesman, Torris took a pace forward and moved in the correct greeting gestures, saying, “Underwarder Torris Winnek Tikarith of the Black Arrow Triad. My brothers and I have escorted Underagent Baswin Kenton Tallis from our embassy on Earth.”
With a slight warming of his tone, their interrogator condescended to say, “Overwarder Kalpar, First of the Gold Band Triad, and chief of security for our outpost on this moon.”
Torris removed his helmet and his brothers followed his example.
Venting a relieved breath, Baswin took off his helmet. He stood erect, abandoning his shameful seat in the motorchair, and offered a formal bow to Kalpar.
“Overwarder, what are the Triarch’s instructions for us?” Torris asked.
Fixing his steely gaze on Torris, Kalpar said, “The Black Arrow Triad will wait here to assist with the wounded Earthers from the starship. They must be ferried promptly to the medical clinic on Galileo Station. Their Med Techs need to assess the injuries of their warriors before their sunward voyage to Earth.”
Torris replied for his triad, “We hear and obey.”
Swiveling to face Baswin, Kalpar jabbed his forefinger at him. “Tallis, you have separate orders. Triarch Webale ordered you to transfer to our base. He wishes to keep you out of the Earthers’ sight.”
“I hear and obey,” Baswin said stiffly.
Kalpar asked, “Can you walk?”
“Urish, Overwarder. The chair was intended to deceive the Earthers.”
Kalpar gestured toward the Qtrans. “Underwarder Gavarin will guide you to our quarters.”
The Third, Gavarin, tapped on the controls to activate the Qtrans. An eerie fog swirled across the interior space. Glancing at Baswin, he waved at the cylinder. “It’s set for our base. Dive in. I’ll jump after you.”
Pleased to be escorted by the mild young Third rather than the severe First, Baswin slung his pack over a shoulder and stepped into the hazy cylinder. An instant of weird dislocation marked his teleportation in the entangled quantum field.
Exiting the Qtrans in a rush, he emerged in the submarine Warrish base.
A second later, Gavarin arrived. “Calm seas, Tallis. Doff your spacesuit and hang it on a rack. He indicated an alcove full of Warrish-style space gear.
As Baswin wriggled out of the snug spacesuit and heavy boots, the Gold Band Third remarked, “Your First spent a short time as a guest among us. He arrived in the guise of an Earther some four hexads ago. You seem to be more fortunate in your appearance.”
“My journey was not precisely fortunate,” Baswin replied soberly. “My swim across the ocean almost killed me. I drifted on the sea currents and washed up on island near our embassy.”
“Still, you survived. Where do you go from here?”
“Triarch Webale gave me permission to join my brothers on Rishalt.” In a renewed surge of apprehension, he added, “I trust his orders have not altered.”
“You must hope no urgent task interferes with your wishes.” After arranging the helmets into a tidy row on the shelf, Gavarin said, “Let me take you to our common chamber. You may eat, drink, and watch the monitors, unless you receive new orders.”
“Urish,” Baswin agreed.
Now bare-footed, they walked along the curved passage to a larger circular space with empty benches, tables and a food counter along one section of wall. Screens displayed views of Earth and other colonized planets in their solar system.
Gavarin waved to the food counter. “Help yourself to molte or soup.”
“Your common room is not very popular at present,” Baswin remarked.
“Our warders are busy,” Gavarin said laconically. “Some must direct the new arrivals. Others are hunting for edible animals.” Gazing at Baswin, he said, “Aren’t you the spy who planted our monitors in Earther buildings?”
“Urish. I set up a business in com security as cover for installing our bugs.”
“We’ve found the data extremely interesting. My task is to curate the recordings and assist our psychology experts in their analysis. If you like, I can show you later.”
Intrigued by the idea, Baswin agreed, “I’d like to see the analysis.”
“Later today, perhaps. For the present, I must resume my duty at the Qtrans.”
The Gold Band Third placed his left hand across his chest in farewell and departed.
Left alone again, Baswin eased off his pack and wandered over to examine the canisters on the counter. He was not hungry, merely mildly curious. It looked like the standard fare of fish soup, molte and water. The fish might be a Europan variety since Gavarin had mentioned hunting.
He was debating whether to sample the molte when he heard the faint pad of bare feet on the stone floor. Hoping they would not be upset by the presence of a stranger, he swung around to face the newcomers.
Two women entered. Two beautiful Warrish women with pale faces, sad grey eyes and an aura of fragility. They wore masculine clothes of dark green tunics and the ubiquitous scaled leggings.
Flattening his hand over his heart, Baswin bowed. “Calm seas, Brisai. Underagent Baswin Kenton Tallis at your service.” He touched two fingers to the newly pricked tattoo on his cheek to complete the introduction.
“Welcome to the lunar ocean.” The ladies returned his greeting.
The taller woman said, “We are Mia and Ennis Tikari Viar of the Beryl Triale, an unfortunate, broken triad.” She touched the triad mark of three petals on her right cheekbone. “We met your brother, Alarik, when he fled here.”
The younger sister gave an arch smile. “Alarik shipped to Rishalt with his Earther lover. Have you heard from him?”
“He is well and happy with Phoebe.” Squashing a twinge of envy, he said, “Are you the tripilots who were stranded on Europa?”
“Urish. In truth, we have retired as tripilots since Brya, our First, died in a hyperspace accident. We chose to live here in seclusion instead of adopting another sister.”
Their calm explanation recalled his own damaged triad. “Permit me to offer my profound sympathy for your tragic loss. I have suffered a lesser misfortune. My Third lies under the care of the Pearl Sisters. He cannot walk and speaks so little that we fear his mind is disordered. We don’t know how to cure him.” Spreading the five fingers of his right hand, he said, “Alarik and I chose to suffer mutilation in exchange for our brother’s care.”
“We sensed your brother’s grief,” Mia said. “Yet he seemed to revive in the company of his new friend, Phoebe.”
Ennis said, “We wish you the same fortune.”
Her words tore open the wound of his impossible love for Holly Moon. Aching to embrace her again, he said, “I traveled from Earth on the same spaceship as the candidates for the new program to train Earther tripilots. Do you expect to meet them?”
As the two women exchanged glances, their lips curled in coy smiles as if they guessed the secret of his love.
Mia sa
id, “We were asked to probe the candidates’ ability to sense the threads of hyperspace.”
“Not today,” Ennis interrupted. “They require baroprotection treatment before they can safely swim in the high pressures at these depths. They will be housed in Bathos until we have assessed their sensitivity to hyperspace.”
He cocked his eyebrows, querying the strange name, “Bathos?”
“It’s the Earther name for the lower level of their station. We often visit our friends in Bathos. They keep a room for us to stay overnight.”
Swinging a slender arm toward the food counter, Mia said, “We came for a bowl of soup. Will you join us?”
“I’d be happy to share a meal with you.”
The sisters stepped to the counter and Ennis poured soup into three bowls.
When Baswin picked up his bowl, the savory odor made his mouth water. He followed the former tripilots to a table and sat on the bench opposite them. As the beginning of a casual conversation, he asked, “Where do you catch the fish for this delicious soup?”
Ennis replied, “We net shoals of Europan frellis in the ocean. They’re not true frellis, but native to this moon, although they look and behave like frellis on Rishalt. Like all native animals in these oceans, they are invertebrates and have no bones.”
“The Earthers also catch and cook frellis,” Mia said. “Although, they grow most of their food on Bathos. It has an agricultural wing for cultivating edible plants. They also farm yeast and small crustaceans in large vats.”
Ennis offered, “They import grains for breads. Tammy is a marvelous cook. Often she sends a basket of sweet cakes to our base.”
“She likes to sweeten the tempers of our warders,” Mia said.
Smiling at the quip, Ennis agreed, “Everybody on our base loves her cakes.”
Baswin was gathering the courage to beg to accompany their swims with the candidates when two other people came in. An interspecies couple, he noted with surprise. A wiry, bare-footed Warrish man was walking hand in hand with a slim Earther woman. They bore identical triad marks of silver bolts of lightning. A luma bounded behind the couple. The animal wore a sparkly collar and had sleek silver-gray fur. A second later, three smaller lumas scampered in.
The whole gang of lumas veered toward Mia and Ennis, and circled around their legs, mewing for attention. The sisters bent down to pet them. The little ones squirmed, uttering squeals of delight, and showing their tiny sharp teeth.
After greeting the ex-tripilots, the baby lumas converged on the stranger, Baswin.
He laughed as they pawed at his legs. By now, he had guessed this couple was the famous Ramis Bell Duad, Dr. Nikki Bell and Kiron Ramis Bell. Alarik had told him about the luma, Tol-Jadel’s gift to the favored couple.
Belatedly, Mia introduced them.
Smiling at him, Nikki Bell said, “You must be Alarik’s brother. Your flame-colored hair is distinctive.”
“Urish.” He placed a hand over his heart and touched his triad mark. “Baswin Kenton Tallis, Second of the Flaming Comets Triad.”
Nikki said, “We owe our lumas’ lives to your brother’s friend, Phoebe. She had veterinary experience and helped Silna to birth the pups.”
Kiron picked up the mother luma, cradled her in the crook of his arm and stroked her fine silver-tipped fur. “Before Phoebe came to help, we were afraid Silna would die.”
Baswin murmured wistfully, “I’d like to meet her. Alarik seems happy with her.”
Silna huffed in protest and wriggled free of Kiron’s grip. She slid to the floor and hurried to her pups. After nudging and pawing them into a furry cluster, she curled her tail around them and began to lick their damp fur.
“She’s a good mother,” Nikki said. “We’ve just come in from the ocean. Silna’s teaching her babies to hunt.”
Intrigued by the friendly family of lumas, Baswin said, “The pups are so small. If they were born during Alarik’s visit, they can’t be older than five hexads. Can they swim?”
“The pups are good swimmers,” Kiron said. “Tic darted away and I had to dive after him. The little rascal loves to explore.” Kiron crouched on one knee by the luma family. Pointing to each pup in turn, he said, “Tic is the largest with darkest fur. The middle one is Tac, and the smallest with pale fur is Toe.” He grinned at Nikki. “We’ve been showing the jelsquid how to play Tic Tac Toe.”
“Is it an Earther game?” Baswin asked. “The name is strange.”
Nikki explained, “It’s a simple child’s game. Our jelsquid friends soon learned to play it.”
Baswin admitted, “I had little opportunity to meet children when I lived on Earth.”
Looking up from his place beside the lumas, Kiron said, “Our pups are sleepy. We should carry them to our cell.”
“Urish,” Nikki agreed. “We can slip out for a snack once the lumas are settled in their basket.” She glanced at Baswin. “Are you staying at the base?”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be staying. Triarch Webale instructed me to join Alarik on Rishalt, so I’m waiting for a starship.” He gave a rueful smile. “Or a new set of instructions.”
“Do you wish to speak with the Triarch?” Mia asked. “He shares our simple quarters on this Watcher outpost.”
“I’d advise you to wait for a day or three,” Kiron said. “Come swimming with us or join a hunting party. At present, Webale is preoccupied with the scheme to train Earthers as tripilots.”
Mia said, “We will meet the young women in a third of a cycle. We expect to evaluate their perceptions of hyperspace over the next three or four cycles. Our instructions are to report to the Triarch on their prowess. We must also send our conclusions to the Opaline School. The Earth women will not be accepted for tripilot training unless they can sense the network of hyperthreads.”
“You can relax during those cycles,” Ennis said. “If you wish, we’ll take you to the guest wing. Our cell is next to the one Nikki and Kiron share with the lumas. You can use the guest cell that Alarik slept in.”
“Help us to carry the pups,” Nikki urged. “Kiron and I have a comfortable cabin on Bathos, but we’ve retreated here to escape the intrusion of those psychics from Earth.”
Thankful for a respite, Baswin agreed and hoisted his pack over his shoulders.
Mia and Ennis each took a sleepy pup.
Kiron lifted a small luma into Baswin’s arms. “Here’s Tic. Normally, he’s the liveliest pup, but now he’s exhausted from his swim.”
The furry brown pup snuggled against Baswin’s chest. Stoking the tired pup, he followed Nikki into the passage. The mother luma, Silna, had enough energy to gallop ahead, while the ex-tripilots and Kiron lagged in the rear.
When they reached a corridor, Nikki halted by one of the side doors. Taking Tic out of Baswin’s arms, she said, “This cell is free. We can reset the lock for you.”
Baswin flattened his fingers on the touch panel, while Kiron adjusted the code.
After thanking them, Baswin went inside the cell. It had floor space for three sleeping pallets and hooks for spare clothes. The simple Warrish style was sufficient for his needs. He dumped his back on the floor and rolled out a bed pad. Sitting on the pad, he contemplated his situation. The local residents seemed friendly. They had indicated he would have time to dive into the ocean. The only stinger in the pond was his uncertainty about the Triarch’s plans.
Chapter 24
AS THE SHUTTLE HURTLED onto the moon’s icy surface, Holly shut her eyes. Would they crash?
“Ooh,” Rosie exclaimed. “Look. We’ve dropped into a sort of shaft in the ice.”
Venturing to open her eyes, Holly stared at the glistening white surface rushing past the external viewer. “Yes. Galileo Station is built underneath the ice. I remember reading about the access tunnel.” Imagining the wall of solid ice enclosing the frigid ocean, she shuddered. Yet, the Warrish swam in this dark ocean and humans with nasal breathers could survive in the water.
A jolting bump accom
panied their arrival at the bottom of the shaft.
“Welcome to Galileo Station,” the pilot announced. “Hop out and take the central exit to Topside. Our Security Chief, Major Tarlick, will direct you from there.”
The passengers departed from the shuttle, medics first.
The Moon sisters climbed out of the shuttle after Lana and Ulrike. Outside, their first hesitant steps became awkward jumps in the decreased gravity. Rosie grabbed onto Holly’s arm for support. Placing each foot cautiously, they followed the medics through an exit and into a short connecting passage with reinforced cerametal walls. At the end of the passage, another airlocked door led into a vestibule.
A stout man in the black uniform of the Solar Security Agency, presumably Major Tarlick, stood by the open door of a deep closet. After the passengers had filed into the vestibule, he expanded his chest and saluted the military contingent, tapping the visor of his cap and proclaiming in pompous accents, “Major Tarlick, Chief of Security for Galileo Station. Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” Indicating the closet, he said, “Remove your spacesuits and place them on a rack. When you are unsuited, I will escort you to the auditorium.”
All the incoming passengers hastened to comply with his instructions, dropping their bags on the floor and scrambling out of their spacesuits. Holly and Rosie helped Lana with her suit and waited in line to place the suits in the storage closet.
Standing at the front of the line, Dr. Kimber said, “Major Tarlick, when do you expect the casualties to arrive? I am Dr. Kimber, the senior physician in this group.”
“We expect the starship to arrive within an hour or two.” The Major took a deep breath. “Due to the urgent need to free cabins on Topside for the troops, I am instructed to direct the young ladies...er, prospective astronavigators, to descend to Bathos.”
From her position farther back in the line, Dr. Kumar called, “Ivan, I’d like to help with the injured soldiers.”
Dr. Kimber swiveled to stare at her. “If you wish, Meera. I’d appreciate the extra hands. After the initial triage, you can assist with the surgery to attach artificial limbs.”
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