Two days later, exhausted and depleted, Titus and Inea passed the last of the painted smiles, the one at the Project Station border, and saluted it as they had all the others that marked the road home.
They were hauling the sledge they had fashioned from wall panels and wiring in order to carry the two injured blockaders they’d found among the wreckage H’lim had made of the caravan. One of them, they were pretty sure, was dead, but the other might still have a chance.
Leaning into the harness they used to pull the thing, they trudged back onto station territory, heads bowed, eyes to the ground. There were still three spare oxygen bottles next to the two lashed-down spacesuits.
Inea staggered with exhaustion, and Titus said, “Don’t stop. We may never get started again, and we might not be noticed for days.” Their suitphones wouldn’t necessarily be heard this far away.
“Don’t worry about me,” rasped Inea. “I could go another day or two. But you must be starving.”
“Not-”
“Titus!” The bull roar had an Israeli accent and a joy Titus had heard only when a program ran on the first try.
“Inea!” came another voice. “Shimon, call the ambulance!”
Two suits were sprinting toward them out of the setting sun. Titus could barely force his eyes toward the glare, but made out one form with a portable flood, and another with the whip antenna of a powerful transmitter waving over his helmet. Inea called, “Shimon! Ernie! Ernie Natches!” Her pull on the sledge increased and Titus staggered, trying to keep up with her. But when they were closer, he was certain their rescuers were indeed his own lab’s Israeli genius and Inea’s electronics mentor.
Twice during their trek, they had seen flyers overhead, but had not known if they were friend or enemy, and so they’d hidden instead of signaling. Now, in a confused babble of questions, answers, and intensive debriefing that lasted through the four hours it took Biomed to clear them through into Carol Colby’s office, they found out why they had seen no identifying markings.
Security had found Mirelle’s body a few hours after H’lim and Titus had left, and Colby got that news through to Earth. Public opinion of the alien in W. S. controlled territory had instantly turned about. A monster that could masquerade as a friend was worse than an overtly monstrous monster.
World Sovereignties had immediately capitulated with regard to the alien. Earth would no longer seek contact with anything from “out there.”
As predicted, all the secessionist support had faded immediately when that proclamation was made. Rhetoric shifted to being ready in case the galaxy ever discovered Earth, and that meant a united Earth.
With the war over and World Sovereignties once again in control, secessionist insignia had already been eradicated, the bombers reconverted to freighters.
As Colby ushered Titus and Inea into her office and installed them in two comfortable chairs before her desk, she said, “I’m sorry to tell you the man you brought in, the one who they thought would survive, died a few minutes ago. He never regained consciousness.”
Titus swallowed hard. At least there’s no chance now that our story will be contradicted. Then he was instantly ashamed of the thought, and aching with new grieving. All that dying, and only we survived.
Inea buried her face in her hands. No amount of cold water had been able to subdue the puffiness from her long delayed cry._
“It’s no reflection on you,” Colby hastened to add as she seated herself and tilted her screen so she could read it and see them at the same time. “You’re still counted heroes. Ah! Here it comes! Biomed has issued you clean bill of health. No trace left of the hypnotic coercion that monster inflicted on you.”
Inea gasped, choked back a sob, then flung her head back, sniffed, and faced Colby. “Even though I don’t think he’s a monster?”
“You haven’t seen what he did to Dr. de Lisle.”
“He gave his life to save the Collector and the station’s independence from the blockaders.”
“The war is over,” insisted Colby. “It has been since the W. S. ships came to meet the blockaders attacking the ”tainers and announced the cease-fire.“
“I understand,” said Titus, “that the ”tainers arrived safely, and on target.“
“Yes.” Colby seized the chance to change the subject as she tapped her keyboard. “Your work was perfect, even if my ground crews didn’t measure up. Here it is-some spectral grade solvent was sent to your lab. Shimon found it there yesterday, but could find no requisition filed for it. Nobody can figure out what you’d need solvent for-not in this quantity, anyway.”
Abruptly, he could taste the cloned blood, a vile deadness after Inea’s living gift. But perhaps coming off this long a fast, it wouldn’t be so bad. “Oh, that solvent wasn’t for me,” lied Titus, meeting Inea’s gaze. “If it’s what I think it is, it had to do with a project H’lim had in mind-or maybe Dr. Mihelich-or something H’lim wanted Mihelich to do. I don’t recall. I’ll look it up-
“Never mind. I’ll just have it trucked down to storage.”
“Oh, no! Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. You have so much to do, and my department is going to be dead weight around here with the Project scrapped. In fact, if space exploration is to be abandoned, I may never get another job.” That hadn’t occurred to him before.
“Don’t worry. You’re both accounted heroes and will be substantially rewarded for everything you’ve done. I’ve put you in for hazard pay for the time you spent in the alien’s company, and there will be a decorating ceremony when we all return to Earth. Oh, and Titus, a few days ago, the insurance payment on your house came through, full replacement value. You can have it rebuilt before you go home, or wait and supervise it all yourself.”
“Someone said the station would remain under quarantine indefinitely,” commented Inea, “so we’re stuck here.”
“Only five years,” answered Colby. “It’s to be announced in a few hours. A compromise was reached and some biotech people will be coming up to verify Dr. Mihelich’s findings. Meanwhile, the nearspace program is not being totally abandoned. After the furor dies down, there will be a drive to strengthen Earth’s defenses and early-warning network, which is what Titus’s department was originally intended to do. You won’t be out of work. That is, if you’re still interested. Considering what that monster did to you two and Abbot, as well, no one would blame you if you-”
“Oh, no!” objected Titus and Inea in unison.
Their carefully constructed story was turning into a spider web. They had declared that H’lim had used his power to take them to the Eighth, which was true. People assumed they had been held in thrall, as had Abbot. Titus and Inea insisted that all H’lim had wanted was to go home, and the threat of not being able to call for rescue had driven him to desperation. That was true, too, and also true of Abbot for a different reason. The minor aberrations in Inea’s and Titus’s physiological responses under questioning were attributed to the horror of their ordeal, so nothing more than a routine investigation was planned. Abbot’s clandestine software had protected Titus during the hypnotic deconditioning session, and now security was satisfied.
Titus told Colby, “Nonhuman people are out there.
Pretending they’re not there won’t protect Earth. Now more than ever, we have to learn about the galaxy, and about the principles that drove Kylyd. We just have to do it without attracting attention. Maybe, by our grandchildren’s day, the galactic situation will have changed. Maybe there can be peaceful contact eventually. We have to hope and pray and prepare for any eventuality.“
Colby cocked her head to one side, smiling. “That’s exactly what I told them, almost word for word. You know, you may end up with my job.”
Titus weighed Inea’s expression. The idea of staying on the moon, or returning often, didn’t seem to upset her. He took his courage in his hands. “Inea, shall we ask her to marry us? Now?”
Her eyes widened in astonishment. She darted a glance at Colby, then said in apology. “He wouldn’t let me move in with him.”
The corners of Colby’s mouth turned up and her eyes twinkled. “Well, if that’s the way it is-when would you like to do it? In a week or two, we could manage some decorations and a dress. There hasn’t been a wedding on the station yet, and everyone would-”
“No!” said Titus. “Now.” They were both wearing disposable suits with Project Hail logos, and he had no ring except his class ring, part of the Shiddehara persona. He pulled it off. “Call your secretary in for a witness. We’re ready.” He caught Inea’s eye. “We’ve put this off too long. I’m not going to let another accident get in the way. That is, if you’re still willing, all things considered.”
“All things considered, there’s nothing under this sun or any other that I’d be more willing to do.”