Afterburn

Carada had watched Liana’s punishment from the beginning. She didn’t take pleasure from it, or playing spectator, but her presence seemed necessary to assure the correction did not violate the acceptable limits.

Fokrej, on the other hand, was having more trouble than usual with keeping his twisted libido in check. The little sadist’s perversions made him an effective, if somewhat flawed, tool, but he might soon become a liability. Carada appreciated his talent, which had proved extremely useful in compelling others to do as she wished. She also knew that the puny coward would soon become so depraved that nothing would satisfy him, not even covering himself from snout to flukes with the gore of his victims.

Carada was still puzzled over some odd, unexpected gaps in her memory. Since coming to K-2, several things had slipped her mind. She felt sure that they were largely unimportant, or she would have remembered them.

Carada sent Liana to the tank reserved for her personal use, and returned to her own with Fokrej. When they were alone, she isolated the tank from the ship’s communication systems, so that signals could be sent but no one could use the audio to listen in on their conversation.

At once the interrogator began to whine. Why did you stop me? I had her. He was still tumescent—using the web was love play for him—and extremely agitated. A few more lashes and she would have done anything for me.

There is only so much abuse Liana can take, Carada said. You were told to correct her, not brutalize her. At least, she hoped he had been. It was one of the things she couldn’t recall.

He tore the neural web from his fins. If you are worried about the physician’s examination, it leaves no trace, I promise you.

Carada wasn’t worried. She knew the device and, physically, the web did no harm. Mentally it turned even the most ruthless and disciplined mind into a quivering, acquiescent mass. She had enough.

But you promised. Fokrej sidled up against her, pricking her thick hide with his little, ineffectual barbs. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want her now.

She couldn’t remember the promise, but she understood his impatience. For some reason she felt as if she suffered from the same, as if long years of deprivation weighed on her. Yet she was so close to her objective, she could almost see the end as it might happen.

She rolled over onto her back, cradling the smaller male on the wide plain of her belly. I still have need of her. When I am through with her, you may do as you wish. Until then, I expect you to control yourself.

I want to hurt her again. Soon. Fokrej rubbed himself against her, trying to penetrate her. Unfortunately his erection had wilted, and his penis had retreated back into his genital sheath. I want you to watch me do it. I want you to smell her pain on my hide.

Carada recalled that she had allowed—even encouraged—Fokrej to think that observing his pathetic torture sessions also provided some sexual stimulation for her. She felt no desire for him, and suspected that it had been years since she had toward any member of the opposite gender. The physical release sex provided didn’t seem important anymore. The need to continually coddle her small sadist, however, was beginning to wear thin. The thought of teaching him what real pain was tempted her for a moment.

Ambassador Carada, the ship’s captain signaled. We have established orbit above the planet. There is a passenger shuttle requesting permission to dock, and they are using your private approval code.

She pushed Fokrej off and flipped over to answer. Give them permission to dock, and have the pilot brought to my quarters at once.

Dair walked through Teresa’s dwelling, turning on lights as she went. Onkar and Burn followed. All of the outer access panels had been secured and locked down, indicating her stepmother was in residence. Yet Teresa didn’t respond to the chime or their request to enter.

Dair heard a muffled, crackling sound coming from the room as they approached the open door panel. None of the lights in the room were on, either, but someone inside was standing on a lift platform and removing something from the wall panel. “That you, Mom?”

The emitters flared on, revealing Teresa at the wall. She had been ripping off the photoscans she had pinned there, balling them up and tossing them on the floor. The light traced wet tracks from her cheeks up to her eyelids, which were so swollen and red they had become thin slits.

Dair looked at Onkar and Burn, who looked as shocked and puzzled as she was. “Go on ahead without me. I need a few minutes alone with her.”

The two males left, and Dair closed the door panel before adjusting the lights to a softer, dimmer level. She bent to pick up one of the crumpled scans on the floor. It was an image of Teresa with her father; one of Teresa’s favorites. “Mom, what are you doing? Are you ill?”

“I’m terrific.” Teresa tore a large portrait of herself with members of the coastal pod in half and let the pieces flutter away. “I’m not your mother, though.”

“What are you talking about?” Dair moved forward, and then went still as Teresa flung out a hand and made the fin gesture for stay-away. “Of course you’re still my mother.”

“Sorry, but not anymore.” She climbed down from the lift and moved it over to another section of the wall panel. “Your father in his infinite wisdom and affection has terminated our relationship.”

“I decided to do something about the mogshrikes attacking the pods,” Teresa told her in a blithe, conversational way. “Your father objected. We argued. He gave me an ultimatum, and I made the only logical choice.” She bunched the ends of her fingers together and then thrust them apart and out. “Poof! End of relationship.”

“Try to keep up here, honey.” Her stepmother tore another photoscan down. “Your father and I argued over my plan to catch a mogshrike alive so that we can discover why it’s coming inland and attacking in warm waters.”

“I can now.” Teresa gave her a bright smile. “See, your father and I are no longer a couple. That means I’m no longer subject to follow ’Zangian customs. Not that I ever was before, you understand, but I tried to toe the line for his sake. Legally I’m not even obligated to ask the Elders for permission to catch a ’shrike. So in actuality, your father did me a big favor, tossing me out of his life. I can do whatever I want now.”

“You can’t catch a mogshrike in the outer currents. They’re too strong and fast out there.” Dair suddenly understood. “Mom, no. Not here. You can’t bring one here. We have twenty-nine pups in the pod this season. It would go after them first.”

“Just like your father.” Teresa shook her head. “For your information, I wouldn’t ever put the little ones, or the pod, in any danger. We’re going to lure it in north of your waters, in an uninhabited area.”

“Every coastal area is inhabited. Perhaps not every hour of every day, but we all make use of the waters along the entire coast.” Dair felt exasperated. “It doesn’t matter where you bring it in. ’Shrikes are too large and too dangerous to capture. Don’t be an idiot, Mom.”

Dair smothered a groan. “I’m sure my father was only angry over your plans, Teresa. He loves you very much. He doesn’t want the pod or you to get hurt.”

“I don’t know about that, Jadaira. When you love someone, you generally don’t break off a ten-year relationship and swim away without looking back.” Teresa looked blindly at the photoscan in her hands. “This is a nice one of him when we were out charting the currents around the southern bend. You weren’t even born yet, so you don’t remember.” Slowly she twisted it into a ball and stared down at it. “You know, I fell in love with your father on that trip.” With a sudden, violent motion she threw the crumpled scan across the room.

“That’s enough.” Dair went over and lifted Teresa from the platform, setting her down and resting her modified fins on her shoulders. “You can’t destroy ten years of happiness by tearing up a bunch of pictures.”

“No, but it makes me feel a hell of a lot better.” She looked around them as if seeing the mess she had made of her mementos for the first time, and then it was her face that crumpled. “I’m getting hysterical again, I guess. Only your father could reduce me to this.” She pressed her fists to her eyes. “Damn him.”

The fluttering sensation in Dair’s chest increased, and her grip changed as she held on to Teresa. “You’ll have to curse him later. Something is wrong with me.”

New attendants and guards had been summoned from Ylyd to replace those killed by the mercenaries, and Liana was allocated a middle-aged female named Graleba. The older Ylydii, a low-ranked but cheerful sort, had served as a companion to a grand matriarch and knew proper protocol. She also liked to gossip a great deal, which Liana encouraged whenever they were alone.

I have some trebelet today, my lady, Graleba said as she released Liana’s meal into the tank. Very lively and sweet, fresh from the homeworld.

Liana had little interest in eating, but fresh food meant that a supply ship had docked with them. Did anything else arrive?

Only a delegate’s aide from another ship, and those mono-colored brutes. Graleba snapped the edges of her veils at the trebelet, inciting them to dart over to Liana. You really should catch something, my lady. You look thin and sickly.

Liana caught one of the smaller iridescent teleosts in her petite veils and made a show of killing and eating it. If she displayed too much curiosity, Graleba might mention it to Fokrej, who was attending Carada but would use any excuse to serve as Liana’s valet again. Misdirection, that would serve. What manner of brutes?

Males, if you can believe it. So scarred up they were that you’d think they were clever food. They came on a separate transport from the planet. Graleba gestured toward K-2.

No, he came on his own shuttle. Do you know their females allow them to carry weapons? She rolled her eyes. As if they’d know which end to point at an enemy.

They know. Liana wished she could use the ship’s database to learn exactly who had boarded, and why, but Carada had changed all the codes. One of the ’Zangian males saved us when the ship was captured.

That’s it. Graleba finned gratitude. Miglan pointed him out to me and told me who he was. He also said the brute was not to be permitted to speak to you.

Naturally. Carada would not let her speak to any offworlder, especially not a League pilot and gunner who might tempt her to do something reckless.

They’ve stationed them all over the ship. They’re guarding all the members of the delegation. The older female nudged her with a gentle fin. Come now, my lady, you must feed or your mother will have me beaten.

He—oh, no, my lady. Graleba looked horrified. Forgive my ridiculous tongue—it was only an expression. Your lady mother would never do such a thing, much as I deserve it for upsetting you. Her eyes went soft and sad. You poor thing, you’ve likely been on spines and barbs since those criminals took the ship, and here I am making you more nervous. I’ll ask to have someone else assigned to look after you.

Liana forced herself to relax and resume her authoritative role. You will do no such thing. I am very pleased with your service and attention to detail. I am only weary of being cooped up in here.

Your lady mother said it was safer for you and her to remain in seclusion until the summit begins, Graleba said. Her gaze went to the access hatch and then back to Liana’s drawn face. Of course, when I want to take a little swim, I don’t bother with the main corridors.

Not when I can swim in complete privacy and seclusion through the recycling conduits. Graleba pointed to the small hatch overhead that was the source of the tank’s water. Now that the ship’s atmosphere has been replaced twice, they’re very clean. No one uses them or monitors them. If I wanted to, I think I could swim through them around both wheels of the ship.

Graleba hummed a laugh. Yes, well, you royals are used to your space and your luxuries. And why shouldn’t you be? Now come, my lady, and eat something. In a few days these trebelet will be too old and stringy to eat without giving you indigestion.

Liana shut down her lighting after the attendant left her and waited in silence for a long time. She was depending on anyone monitoring her tank to assume from the silence that she was asleep and would not wake for several hours.

It was harder than she expected to move very slowly toward the access hatch and open it without making any noise. Her entire body wanted to shake. If I’m discovered, she will give me to Fokrej—or worse.

She also knew that the delegate’s aide who had arrived was likely not Skartesh, the people with whom Carada most wanted to form an alliance, because he came on a separate ship. The Skartesh had no ships, and were constrained to use ’Zangian transports. If Liana didn’t discover what of the plan had been altered, she might as well give herself to Fokrej for his sickening pleasures, for she would be unable to change or stop anything.

The recycling conduits were round pipes three times as wide as Liana’s body. Their mechanism removed solid waste and debris, and replenished fresh liquid atmosphere to all the Ylydii-occupied tanks within the vessel. Usually the sides of the conduits were perpetually scaled with sediment contaminants from the waste materials they channeled to the ship’s incinerators, but Liana saw Graleba’s claim was correct—the pipes were now very clean.

She slid through the narrow hatch, dropped into the rushing current within the conduit, and let it carry her away from the tank. It was strong, but not enough to sweep her into the fiery disposal equipment in the center of the ship.

Each tank had its own supply and return to the conduit, and it was a simple matter to stop and look through each hatch until she found Carada’s private tank. Staying there with the current rushing around her would be difficult, and Liana decided to wedge herself in the short space between the hatch and the conduit pipe, where the rush of the water was not as loud.

“Ambassador Urloy-ka was not amused,” a harsher, humanoid voice replied. “Considering what was said to him, he did not wish to send me as his representative.”

Liana shifted so she could see through the grid of the hatch. The ambassador was hovering in her water and speaking through an audio panel to a humanoid male standing in one of the air locks. He was dressed in Ninrana robes and had two heavily armed guards standing on either side of him.

Liana had never seen him before. Why did she summon him? There was no advantage to an alliance with the Ninrana. Her mother had told her a hundred times that their world had nothing to offer but some metals that, given the degraded environment, would be too much trouble for the Ylydii to mine.

“Urloy-ka is too sensitive,” Carada said. “Nevertheless, I will make do with you. I have a proposition for you that may benefit both our peoples.”

“Such matters are to be discussed at the Peace Summit, with Ambassador Urloy-ka,” the aide reminded her. “Only he can negotiate with you.”

“You have auditory canals. You may listen and relate what I offer to him.” The ambassador bared her teeth. “I would transmit this proposal, but it is a private one and not to be openly discussed with the other members of the summit. You will tell Urloy-ka this. And send your escort out, too.”

Carada moved to hover vertically in the water, casting her wide, long shadow over the Ninrana. “Ylyd will provide all the water and terraforming equipment Ninra needs. In return, you will disband your armies and your government, and henceforth live under Ylydii rule.”

“Yes, you are only asking us to surrender our world, our leadership, and probably our freedom. I will relate this to Urloy-ka. I advise you pray he does not attack your vessel.” The aide turned to leave.

“So you think you are outraged, little male?” Carada’s hum of mirth rang out. “Tell me, do you Ninrana have something else to offer the Ylydii in return? Lifeless sand and endless heat have no value. Nor do the bones of all the poor people you have eaten.”

“They were sacrifices, delivered into our hands by the gods.” The aide gave her an angry look. “We offer minerals that can be mined. The Ninrana are willing to consider temporary mining operations to be carried out while we are rejuvenating our planet.”

“It will only take ten years to terraform Ninra, brainless one. Ten years of mining is not enough to repay the cost to do so.” Carada swam closer. “You would do well to remind your ambassador that in twenty revolutions your world will be a cold, dead, red rock. We are your only hope to keep it alive.”

“I can’t find anything wrong with her or the pup,” William told Teresa. “Both of them show steady vitals and their organs and blood scan clean.”

It had been a week since Dair had fainted in Teresa’s arms. She had rushed her stepdaughter to the FreeClinic, but by the time they had arrived in Trauma, Dair had regained consciousness and seemed perfectly normal. The pup developing in her womb also showed no signs of trouble. As they had every day since.

“Five times. Teresa, her heart is strong and more than meets the demands the baby places on it. She’s not sick, or diseased, or injured.” William handed her Dair’s chart. “Unless you can think up a test I haven’t performed, or a valid reason to keep her under observation, I have to discharge her.”

“If she were going to die, she’d have done it when she fried herself saving the Skartesh.” He patted her shoulder. “I’ve got to make rounds in post-op. Have the nurse signal me if you need me.”

“I feel good.” Dair climbed out of the tank and cleared the water from her gills. “I’m getting fat, though.” She spread her hands on the growing bulge of her abdomen, and then glanced over Teresa’s shoulder and grinned. “Onkar.”

Dair’s mate came to embrace her in his arms. They began speaking in clik so rapid that Teresa couldn’t follow the conversation.

Teresa withdrew and left the aquatic treatment center alone. Work had been piling up for the past seven days at the URD as well as her home lab; T’Kaf had sent her several signals. She’d sent regular reports on Dair to the pod via Burn or Onkar, but she couldn’t bring herself to go back underwater.

Teresa dragged herself out of her thoughts to see Noel Argate standing in front of her and waving a hand in front of her nose. “Noel. What a surprise.”

“Good, then you’ll be free to help me with the last of the prep work at the inlet.” Noel indicated a military glidecar waiting at the curb. “I’ll drop you over at your place so you can pack a few things.”

“I’m sorry. I thought your lab chief would pass along what we were doing. We’re almost ready to go after a ’shrike.”

She stared at him. “Almost ready. Noel, we only discussed a few possible methods of capturing a mogshrike. That was where we were last week, when Dair fell ill.”

“I consulted with your people during your absence, and we agreed on what would be the best method.” He made a face. “I’m sorry, Terri, but I’m not going to be here much longer, and I couldn’t see waiting.”

“I’m not here on vacation. My superiors want regular progress reports. There have also been a bunch of new ’shrike sightings.” Noel gave her a searching look. “Listen, once the military gears start turning it’s not easy to go back to a standstill. It doesn’t matter. If you want me to call a halt to it, I will. This is still your turf, Terri. You have the last word.”

“About fifty. Twenty or so rogues, the rest were multiples of twos and threes. Mostly young ’shrikes.” His mouth flattened. “They come to scout first, don’t they?”

Jadaira was going back into the water today, and nothing would keep her out of it. Teresa couldn’t stand the thought of her child and her grandchild dying in the teeth of one of those monsters.

Noel had accomplished an amazing amount of work over the last week. Using one of her station monitors, he pulled up a satellite shot of the inlet and the work going on there.

“The reef extension walls are in place under the surface; they’ll lie flat under a layer of silt until the ’shrike is well inside our surround. Reinforced observation posts have been staggered around the perimeter every hundred yards, and those will be manned by my troops. I have a hover pod for your scientists so they can observe without any risk to themselves.”

“Very efficient.” And much better than she could have done with her people and limited resources. “Once we have it inside, the extensions are raised and charged?”

“With contact charges only,” Noel said. “The trapped ’shrike will have to swim right into the extensions to trigger a feed burst from our onshore power plant. I didn’t want to take the chance of running that much current continuously; it would kill everything in the vicinity.”

Teresa had to admit he was doing everything as she had asked—with respect for safety and life—but she still wasn’t convinced his idea would work.

“Right. So we get the ’shrike in, and trap it, and keep it in.” She gestured toward the inlet image. “How do we get it out of the water and transport it seventy kim over land and dump it in the study tank at Burantee?”

“That’s the beauty of being a part of the Allied League of Worlds,” Noel said, and put a new image up on the screen. “We have a lot of worlds to contact and consult with on our problems.”

The image at first didn’t make sense. It hovered over remote mountainous terrain the way a transport would, but the design was unlike anything Teresa had ever seen.

“That’s not too far off the mark, actually. It’s a P’Kotman life flyer, constructed from one of their giant wind plants. The League tells me the natives use it to retrieve and transport the injured from remote areas of P’Kotma.”

Noel nodded. “Part of it is fossilized, but the lower half is living tissue. It actually envelops the passenger and can carry up to forty metric tons of weight.”

“It would if you left the people in it long enough, but the short flight time doesn’t give it the opportunity to start the digestive process. Instead, it holds the enveloped victim suspended inside a harmless gel, along with a small bubble of oxygen so it won’t smother. The P’Kotmans are delivering one that has been trained to hold liquid atmosphere so our ’shrike can keep breathing.”

“An even exchange.” Noel put up another image of the bizarre vessel hovering over a pen of benign-looking herd animals. “The ship will release the victim for something fatter and weaker and stupider, like these casein-orwfs.”

“Sure. I have a couple of computer models of how we’re going to bait the ’shrike. If you’d like, we can run them on the tri-dim down at the URD this afternoon—”

“No.” She knew if she saw Dairatha that she would call the entire operation to a halt and plead for him to take her back. The work was more important, and she wouldn’t give her ex-mate the satisfaction of seeing the wreck he had made of her.

“Not at the URD,” she said in a more normal tone. “We’ll work out of Burantee Point until we have your onshore installation up and running.”

“I should also tell you that as soon as we began work at the inlet, the ’Zangian Elders filed a protest with the Colonial Council,” Noel admitted. “They’re fighting to block the capture.”

Dairatha had been busy. “The Elders can do whatever they like. I have it on good authority that the council is tied up with the Peace Summit and they won’t get back to regular business for several days.” She turned to him. “I want a ’shrike in captivity before their grievance goes before the council, and I want to keep them from killing it if they are granted the block. How do we swing that?”

“Good question.” Noel considered it for a few moments. “We can start hunting in two days. If the Elders sway the council, my people will transport the ’shrike we catch off-planet.”

He shrugged. “This region is still under full military jurisdiction. Your council can file a grievance with quadrant. I’ve heard that, with the war demanding so much time and attention, civilian grievances are pretty backlogged. Should only take, oh, two or three years for theirs to be reviewed.”

“No, Terri.” Noel took her hands in his. “We’re going to put an end to it.” He leaned forward and brushed his mouth over hers.

She hadn’t been touched by a Terran male since she had left the homeworld, Teresa thought. She hadn’t been kissed at all since Noel had left her. ’Zangian males used their mouths for feeding or biting. Dairatha had marked her more than once in passion, but he couldn’t do this.

That foreign thought made her jerk back. What was she doing? This man was the biggest reason she had left Terra. Him and his lies. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t agree to that. But I’ll wait for an invitation next time.” He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “You can’t stop me from thinking about you. We had some wonderful times together, Ter.”

“It’s always been empty, hasn’t it?” His expression turned quizzical. “Your ’Zangian lover could never sleep with you.”

“He was my mate, and you’d better just shut up right now.” She got to her feet. “I have some signals to send. I’ll meet you up at the point in a few hours.”

Noel left without making a fuss, and Teresa studied the images of the inlet surround and the P’Kotman carrier vessel for a long time. She could see a thousand ways in which things could go wrong. The ’shrikes were excellent breachers; something would have to be done to keep them from jumping over the tops of the reef extensions. Then there was subduing the monster—they still didn’t know if a standard neuroparalyzer would have any effect on it—and assuring the study tank was durable enough to contain it.

She lifted a hand and touched her mouth, which still tingled from Noel’s kiss, and then glanced at one of the few photoscans she hadn’t torn off the wall. It was of Kyara, Dair’s biological mother, who had died giving birth to her. Kyara had been her best friend.

Burn terminated the relay from the surface and swam out of the communications room to meet with three members of the ’Zangian detachment preparing to go on duty. “Dair is out of the hospital. They say she and the pup are fine.”

“Of course they are.” Loknoth tugged at the collar fastened under his gillets. “Dair doesn’t have to swim in a full dress uniform through ship corridors all day and night.”

Burn understood their discomfort, but the delegates all wore clothes, and the colonial administrator wanted the ’Zangians to blend in. “You can strip as soon as you’re off duty.”

“How much longer will we have to be here, Sublieutenant?” Gharain, one of the youngest males, asked. “I think I’m starting to chafe in unmentionable regions.”

“Until they make peace or kill each other,” Curonal guessed. “I’d wager that big female could easily dust both of those mouth-breathers.”

“I don’t know,” Loknoth said. “They move fast when they want to, I know they haven’t surrendered all their weapons, and she can’t breathe in their air locks.”

“They’ll make peace and then we’ll go home.” Burn felt like knocking his detachment’s heads together. No wonder being in command made one surly—everyone did nothing but complain—and he intended to apologize to Dair in person the minute he saw her. He turned to Loknoth. “What do you mean, they haven’t surrendered all their weapons? I personally disarmed every Ninrana before they boarded.” What a happy task that had been, too—Burn had thought at one point the fierce desert-dwellers might attack him en masse.

“You know I didn’t.” Burn would have, but the ’Zangians weren’t permitted to touch any of the delegates. “But I scanned them thoroughly.”

“They’re carrying them,” Loknoth insisted. “I’ve seen them tuck their hands under the fabric a number of times when they’re angry or startled. Not to take whatever they have under there out, but to be ready to. You know, the same way we’d bare teeth at big shadows in the current.”

“The only things that don’t show up on scanners are organics or body parts,” Curonal put in. “I doubt they’re going to beat someone to death with a spare arm or a weed.”

Burn remembered the platform upon which the Ninrana had sacrificed the ship crash survivors they found on their world. It had been made of bone. So had parts of their dwellings.

Bone was one of the oldest tool-making materials among land-dwellers, Burn recalled from his Academy training. Among primitive species it was still used to make darts, clubs, even blades.

“Lok, signal the council and see if you can have the no-search order reversed.” To Curonal and Gharain he said, “You two patrol the stern corridors. Keep alert and signal me at the first sign of trouble.”

Burn went directly to the conference area being used by the summit delegates. The main entrance was guarded by two ’Zangians, whom he stopped and briefed before moving on to the adjoining observation chamber, where the delegates’ aides and members of their entourages waited during the talks.

Everything that was being discussed could be heard over audio panels, and several monitors had been posted that showed the delegates in the summit room. The room had been divided in half, with an air lock for the land-dwelling Skartesh and Ninrana, and a water tank for the ’Zangians and Ylydii.

Burn listened to the voice of the intermediary drone, which was still reading off the various clauses and demands filed by each of the delegates. He couldn’t understand why they had to use such frilly speech when the issues were so simple to understand. The Ninrana wanted water, because their planet was dying. The Ylydii wanted order and some control over what happened within their system. The Skartesh wanted their own colony away from K-2 because they couldn’t adapt to the climate. The ’Zangians simply wanted the fighting to stop and everyone to live together in peace. In his mind, these were all reasonable requests.

It was what they wanted for each other that created the conflicts. The Ylydii wanted harsh trade restrictions placed on the Ninrana, who weren’t too particular about how or from whom they got the water they so desperately needed. The Ninrana in turn thought that one of the aquatic species should provide them with water without any conditions attached. The Skartesh thought the ’Zangians should be happy to deed one of K-2’s moons over to them, since the aquatics could never live on them. The ’Zangians thought the Skartesh’s cult should be outlawed and the species strictly supervised until it was fully deprogrammed.

Ana Hansen spotted him and left a group of Skartesh to come over to the panel used to communicate between the air and water locks. “Sublieutenant, is something wrong?”

Administrator, some of the Ninrana delegates may be armed, he typed on the panel pad so that she saw the words appear on the vid screen only. Out loud he said, How are the talks progressing?

Ana’s mouth tightened before she played along with his ruse. “As well as can be expected, considering the trouble we’ve had with the translation equipment.” She used the pad to type, Smuggled weapons past the scanners?

Weapons made of bone wouldn’t register, he typed back. Some of the delegates were looking at them, so he discontinued using the keypad and wiped the screen. Shall I advise security on-planet about the problem?

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Sublieutenant.” As Ana said that, she moved her head in a barely perceptible nod. “Chief Norash should only be consulted when there is something that might compromise safety for the delegates and their parties.”

“How much longer must we listen to this machine?” Ambassador Urloy-ka demanded from the air lock side of the summit room. “Every day we spend talking, my people and planet die a little more.”

“They will survive the week, Ninrana,” Bataran said. “My people have suffered for months, and will keep suffering every minute we stay on the surface of K-2.”

The Ninrana made a strange, hissing sound. “You would compare your pelts shedding to my species’ coming extinction? We need water or we will die. Do not think that because we agreed to these talks that we will be denied. We will have water, or we will use whatever means are necessary to take it.” He plunged his hand into his robe.

Nathaka mu Hlana said. There is a priority of need to be established, but no planet or people can be regarded as more important than another. We are all equals here.

Ana Hansen slipped into the room and took position in the center of the air lock. “Delegates, forgive my intrusion, but I would remind you of your agreement to set aside personal animosity as well as status for the duration of this summit. What you decide here will determine the future of this system, and the millions of beings who inhabit it. Antagonism and threats will never serve them the way tolerance and cooperation can.”

The Terran woman seemed to have a calming effect on the Ninrana, who fixed his gaze on her lovely face and golden hair. “You are good to remind us of this, yahleha.”

Burn kept close watch on the monitor, and input the code that would allow him immediate access to the summit chamber. On screen the administrator looked very pale and was staring back at Urloy-ka as if he’d just threatened her life. Only when the Ninrana delegate removed his empty hand from his robe did Burn disengage the emergency override.

“Again, forgive the intrusion.” Ana inclined her head toward Urloy-ka and then to each of the delegates before silently moving back out to the observation chamber.

“I’m a little nauseated. Too much coffee, not enough sleep.” She gave him a wan smile. “Sublieutenant, please ask your people to keep the Ninrana delegation under close watch until I can sort out what to do about the weapons they’ve smuggled on board.”