The message from outreach could not have been more unexpected. !!Ghint was in a low orbital sweep coming up on an Outsider station when the message came from the backup (fleet): "STOP ATTACK!"
For an instant, he couldn't take his attention from the planet looming in his readers, from the cluster of Outsider interceptors closing on his wing, from the growing metallic structure that was the enemy target. Finally he absorbed the message. "Repeat!" he demanded, unbelieving.
Outreach repeated: "Relayed from the Circle by the (fleet), a thought-vortex message: Stop attack!"
For another instant he wondered if it could be an enemy deception, if he ought to complete his attack while awaiting confirmation. The Outsider world was so large now and misty before him . . . so close . . . so vulnerable at last . . .
But had the enemy ever before broken outreach? Could he assume they had now?
His nails nearly tore his suit as he forced himself to reply: "All wings: alter course . . . away and retreat . . ."
* * *
The rapture-field was a well of silence. There were no words; but in the tactical display the attacking fleet could be seen drawing away, and the second Ell fleet veering from its approach. Sage watched unblinking, emptied of grief. He had no words left in him at all, only a profound gratitude, and the comfort of his friends. It was all he needed now, all he wanted.
* * *
The rapture-field let him down onto the platform and went dark. Sage stumbled in his exhaustion, but waiting hands caught him and helped him away to the lounge. Ramo and Pali were already there, with Kyd. "Here, Sage," Kyd murmured, guiding him to a seat.
Sage looked at her muddleheadedly. For a moment, he wondered if she was real, if what he had just been through was real. He looked into Pali's eyes and then knew, and a laugh escaped his lips. "We did it?" he whispered.
Pali closed her eyes and nodded serenely.
Sage gazed past her to Ramo. The artist was silent, brows furrowed in thought, chin resting on his folded hands. He gazed back at Sage with an expression that rarely appeared on his face: respect. Before either of them could speak, two of the Secretary's aides strode into the lounge. Sage looked up at their nervous faces and felt all of his weariness congeal in the pit of his stomach. The job was not done. With a sigh, he and the others rose and followed the aides—knowing that it would not be done until they had explained everything and answered every question, probably a dozen times over.
* * *
How strange, this feeling of relief, of joy! The core was reminded of the first time it had experienced dance—the rush of sensation, unfamiliar but satisfying. There was a great deal to be explored in these feelings, but first there remained urgent tasks to perform.
Though the attack was ended, a permanent peace was still to be won. Few on Earth even knew that they had been at war for the past three years. To them, the Ell attack had been without cause or provocation, and the cost in Human lives had been high, though it could have been much higher. There would have to be reconciliation on Earth before there could be any with the Ell, and the Company and the Secretary's government would have to bear much of the burden of it.
And, too, there was the colony fleet still orbiting an unsuitable world, awaiting instructions.
Indeed, a great deal remained to be done—but actually, most of it would have to be done by Humans themselves. It might be time for the core to step back into the wings now, to facilitate rather than make strategy, to remove itself from the spotlight; to rest, to reflect, and to dream of other things.
* * *
Switching Aggie onto her cabin monitor, Chandra sat down to study the results of the balloting. There were so many thoughts stewing in her mind, she could barely concentrate on the numbers. Once she blinked and forced her mind clear and read what was on the screen, though, the distractions fled.
The three starship crews had voted overwhelmingly to follow the recommendation of the command staff to leave the Argus system and seek a new destination. Only a small minority wished to return to Earth, and a smaller group still wanted to stay and challenge (in vengeance? she wondered) whatever dreadful life-force it was that had destroyed their crewmates.
Voting, she'd felt, was the only fair way to make the decision. As flag commander, she had the authority to decide for the fleet, particularly since Captains Khumalo and Fitzpatrick had concurred with her judgment to abandon this world; or she could have awaited orders from Earth. But the starships were cities as well as vessels, and she believed that the citizens had a right to their own voice.
Of course, it wasn't as simple as just setting out to a new star. They had no destination; and before the ships could undertake another journey, they needed fueling and overhauling; and though half the Ell fleet had left the system mysteriously some days ago, there remained alien ships nearby with unknown intentions. Regardless of the vote, the fleet would be here for a while.
There was a chime, and Aggie interrupted Chandra's thoughts. "We've just received an update from Earth via the messenger-probe."
"Let me see it."
Aggie displayed the message. It was a long one, but the opening sentence made her smile: "THIS IS TO ADVISE THAT A CEASE-FIRE IS NOW IN EFFECT . . ."
She read on, and soon her eyebrows went up. "STAND BY FOR ORDERS TO MEET WITH THE ELL FLEET IN ARGUS SYSTEM . . ."
* * *
"I think our other questions can wait until you've had some sleep," the Secretary said to Sage and Ramo. "There's no doubt we owe you an enormous debt of gratitude." He rubbed his temples as one of his aides whispered something in his ear. Martino nodded and cleared his throat. "Yes. As Mr. Clancy has just reminded me, there is one question that needs to be raised." He scowled, drumming his fingers. "I assume it's safe to say that in your . . . work . . . you came across various forms of classified information that, to put a fine point on it, the Company would rather you hadn't seen?"
Sage had wondered when somebody was going to mention that. "I suppose so," he answered. "But I don't remember that much of it. We saw things, but once the enhancements disappeared . . ." He shrugged wearily. Of course, he didn't know what might come back to him later. He looked at Ramo, who nodded assent.
The Secretary hmm'd, perhaps believing him, perhaps not. "Well. It's the Company you'll have to convince. There are some Company officials who are rather anxious to speak with you, but I've insisted on your need to rest first."
Need to rest was all Sage heard. Lord, yes, he thought. But Martino had one more thing to say. "The core has requested that you stay on call for a while. But you'll still be answering to me. Any problem with that?"
Sage shrugged and got to his feet. "Nope," he muttered. "Good night." He stumbled going out the door, and was only dimly aware of Kyd and Ramo supporting him all the way back to his room and laying him out to sleep.
* * *
"So," Ramo said, stifling a yawn as he peered at Kyd. They were standing alone in the carpeted hallway of the guest quarters. He didn't want to turn in just yet. He gestured awkwardly. "Now that things are settling down . . . ah, what would you say to our spending a little time together?" He scuffed the carpet with his heel, astounded to realize that he actually felt embarrassed. "I mean—nothing in particular, you understand, just that—" He fumbled and ran out of words.
Kyd grinned. Her emerald eyes looked tired, but they were gorgeous even so.
"Say something. Stop me from making a fool of myself," he pleaded. "God, I'm beat." Even Ramo Romano couldn't run on adrenaline forever.
Kyd leaned toward him and kissed him on the cheek. "Why not?" she said softly. "I'm sure it'll never work, but who knows? You have promise." She pulled back with a smile. "You should know, though, that I'm going to be a mother."
Ramo felt faint. "What?"
"As soon as possible."
Blinking, Ramo tried to follow her explanation: something about Nicholas, a fertilized egg frozen until she could afford him, and that was why she'd moonlighted for the feds . . . "Wait a minute," he gasped. "Wait!" She paused, and he took a breath. "Can we . . . discuss that later?" Kyd sighed and nodded. "Okay—in the meantime, you're saying yes?"
Kyd laughed. "Yes, Ramo. Sorry about the earful." She seized his arm and propelled him down the hall toward his room.
"G'night," Ramo mumbled happily, closing the door. He stumbled to bed, hardly even noticing the bright afternoon sun streaming in as his head hit the pillow.
* * *
Pali began breathing again as Kyd and Ramo disappeared down the hallway. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop; she had simply rounded a corner near their quarters and there they were, standing with their backs to her, deep in conversation. She'd hesitated, balancing a cup of moke in her hand, not sure whether to walk on by or just to back away discreetly; then she'd caught a few words and found herself rooted, listening to Kyd. She had an egg-child, frozen in storage? That was why she'd taken the job with the feds—to earn the money to have her child? That was what she hadn't wanted to say when she'd confessed to Pali about spying?
Pali let out a mournful breath. Why hadn't Kyd simply told her? Didn't she believe that Pali would have understood? Dear God! Pali continued down the hall, shaking her head. Once in her room, she set the cup down in the sunlight and sat and stared for a long time at the steaming brown liquid.
Images of battle still burned in her mind, along with echoes of her own voice as the Ell attack had mounted. The children are burning. Undoubtedly; people had died. But when she thought of what might have happened, she was grateful beyond words—not just for the Ell's change of heart, but for the risks the core had taken, and for her friends and their particular brands of courage. And that, she guessed, included Kyd.
She sipped the moke finally and gazed out the window. In the six years since Gregory's death, she'd managed to shut out of her thoughts the memory of the loss and any hope of trying again. Maybe it was time now to deal with the pain and get on with her life as she wanted to lead it. The core, and the Ell, and Sage had already helped to give her a start.
But what life did she want? Motherhood? She didn't know exactly. At least she could entertain the thought without cowering from it; and it seemed, certainly, that her career with the Company was at an end.
Perhaps, in this matter, she might even seek the counsel of Kyd.
* * *
"Come on, Sage," Kyd said, coaxing him into the levitation-field. They were in a senso room in a lower level of the executive building, with music being piped in by the core.
"I don't think he wants to do it," Ramo said.
"Don't be silly," Pali answered, floating to one side. "Sage, you just need to get the hang of it."
"It takes a little practice," Kyd said, guiding him in the movements. Shift here and twist there; it was all very confusing, and the rhythm of the music didn't seem to help.
"You're dancing like a stork," Ramo chortled, giving him a friendly slap, which set him turning in the weightless field.
Sage sighed and kept trying. He didn't mind anymore; Ramo was just being Ramo.
"Just loosen up," Kyd said, "and we'll have you ready for Elina in no time."
Sage felt himself tighten up. "I don't even know if I'm going to see her again," he protested.
Kyd pointed a finger scoldingly. "When a woman's been asking about you, you should listen." She tugged him closer. "Bend your knees as you bounce."
Sage bent. It looked easy, the way Ramo did it. Maybe they were right—he just needed practice.
Ramo had contacted Odesta's yesterday and found her troops full of questions, including concern for Sage, whose sorrow they had glimpsed. Sage was touched to hear it, but still unsure how much he was ready to share. But Elina, Kyd kept reminding him, was waiting for him to return.
"Go, Sage!" Ramo shouted, rolling past horizontally.
Sage frowned and caught Kyd's hand finally and swung—gave it all he had, dancing like a stork or no—and with as much abandon as he was capable of, moved at last to the flow of the senso.
* * *
There was a soft buzzing sound, and the music faded into the background. An abstract holo-figure appeared, gyrating slowly in the center of the field. It was vaguely humanoid in size and shape, but translucent and multicolored. It moved rather like a dancer stretching. Sage, breathing hard, stared at it for a moment before saying, "Core?"
The figure bent in a gesture resembling a bow. "How do I look?" asked an airy voice.
Sage exchanged stunned glances with the others before approaching the image. "Well . . . great," he said. "We're just a little . . . surprised, I guess. We weren't expecting you to appear right here—I mean, looking like—"
"This?" A wave of crimson passed through the figure. "I was hoping you'd like my new look."
"It's terrific," Ramo said. "How is our patient doing?"
"Recovering nicely—and by the way, wishes to thank you for saving its life." The figure pulsed for a moment, then added, "I thought I'd done enough impersonating of human beings for a while."
"Aw, shucks," Ramo said—and blew the core a kiss.
The core froze for an instant, then flickered like an exploding rainbow, losing its humanoid shape. Sage wondered if it had lost its composure; but after a moment, it regained its shape and blew a kiss back at Ramo. The kiss, a twinkling point of light, darted and spiraled in the air and then floated slowly to touch Ramo's cheek. It vanished with a tiny splash of color. Ramo grinned.
"I wanted to talk to you before you rejoined Odesta's people," the core said.
"More work!" Ramo cried. "Core, we love you, but Martino won't let us leave this place until you tell him you don't need us anymore."
The core chuckled, rotating and changing shape. "I'll speak to him. I know he's worried about the ComPol—but I've already taken care of that."
"Taken care of it how?" Pali asked. No agents had been allowed to talk with them since the end of the crisis, which was a status that they all hoped to maintain.
"I've spoken with the executives of the Company and the chief of the ComPol," the core answered.
"And?"
The core laughed softly. "They called it extortion. But really, I just stated my case firmly." Sage and the others looked at one another with raised eyebrows. "I don't think you'll be bothered," the core continued. "But I do hope you'll stay around to help."
"No sweat," Ramo said. "Do you need us right now?"
"Not for that—although Harybdartt did say that he'd like to join you for the next jamdam; and actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."
More glances were exchanged.
"It wasn't my order that you couldn't be flown there to attend in person, but I am glad in one respect. I hope to attend with you, myself, and I was—"
"Yes?" Ramo said perplexedly.
"Well . . . wondering if you would mind helping me . . ." The figure began to shift and change restlessly.
"Yes?"
". . . learn to dance?"