Nimisha's Ship

CHAPTER 8

In order to cloak their exit from Vegan space, Five B slipped into the middle of a large convoy of drone-pulling freighters.

"It's not exactly the kind of exit I'd prefer to make," Caleb remarked to Lt. Commander Kendra Oscony, his executive officer, seated beside him in the bridge compartment.

She grinned. "Ignominious for a ship of this calibre," she said, her glance sliding around the control panel. She had had some simulated training on a mock-up at Fleet Headquarters. But even the best virtual simulations never equalled the reality. "She is some beauty. When can we slip the dogs?"

"As soon as we've cleared the comsats," he said, almost as eager as she to be free of their cover vessels. "We don't want our markings too visible."

"We've only got an interim marking, RX-25. The admiral isn't being overcautious, is he?" she asked.

"If he isn't, I am," he said firmly. "Lady Cuiva's safety is as important as the task of finding her mother."

She cleared her throat at that subtle rebuke. He took the edge off it by giving her a grin.

"I sure never thought to be this lucky," she said.

"Nor I," Caleb admitted, trying to make friends with his executive officer. He knew the XO by reputation, although he would never tell her that it was her fine mathematical abilities that had decided her selection for this shakedown cruise.

"She's a nice child, too."

"She is," Caleb agreed.

"Coming up to the last comsat, Captain," said Helm, and Kendra shook her head.

Caleb grinned more broadly. He was accustomed to the AI trio on a Fiver, having helped program and install the original units. It would take the naval segment of this crew time to adjust to having independent AI's as integral entities. The Chief Engineer, lan Hadley, had been over all the design specs; he had spent hours with Hiska, who had actually talked volubly about the refinements that Lady Nimisha had made to drive components. Gaitama Rezinda had received intense briefing by Hiska on how to deal with any adjustments that might be required during this shakedown cruise. The young Rondymense Yard employee had been a bit goggle-eyed over the responsibility, but there was no question that she was capable of handling the job if Hiska had approved her. Caleb had given Hiska the choice of being the shakedown cruise jack-of-all-trades, or joat, as such mechanics were called. She had declined on the grounds that Lady Nimisha had given her the responsibility of attending to her quarters, workspace, and office, and not even to find her patron would she abandon that position of trust. Which, Admiral Gollanch remarked, was very well, since the woman had personality problems that could have proved awkward even on the test run.

"In that case, Helm, proceed to maximum Insystem speed," Caleb said.

"Aye, Captain."

Caleb wasn't certain that Nimisha would approve of him programming naval parlance into this AI, but with six naval personnel on board, it would simplify matters.

"Time to heliopause?"

"At maximum speed, eighty-two hours, thirty minutes, ten seconds and-"

"Thank you, Helm."

"Aye, sir."

Kendra smothered a laugh.

"You have the conn, XO," Caleb said, releasing the safety net and rising.

"Aye, sir." She slipped over to the seat he had vacated.

With an AI Helm, it was not actually necessary to maintain a watch schedule, but naval tradition required it.

In the main cabin, he found Lady Cuiva and Perdimia having a snack.

"All settled in?" he asked.

"Yes, Captain," the two replied in chorus. Perdimia grinned and nudged Cuiva with her elbow.

"May I join you?"

"But, of course," Cuiva said, inclining her head in an imitation of her grandam.

Caleb ordered on his way to Cater's dispenser and received the caffeine drink and the sandwich he'd requested, all neatly and appetisingly arranged on the naval crockery supplied to the unit.

"How long will it take us to reach… that place?" Cuiva asked.

"As soon as we're past heliopause, we'll translate into Interstellar Drive. Then it'll be a week on IS before we return to normal space and begin the testing."

"Just as my mother was going to do?"

"Just as I am sure your mother did do." Caleb said.

"Everyone's very nice," Cuiva added after a moment's silence.

"We had no trouble picking a crew when they heard the Five B was going out to be tested," Caleb said.

"Even Hiska was pleased," Cuiva said before taking the last bite of her snack.

"How could you tell?" Caleb was startled into asking.

"Oh." and Cuiva waved an airy hand just like Lady Rezalla would, "Hiska talks to me."

"You're one of the privileged few."

"But she talks to you, too, Caleb," Cuiva replied, blinking, and that was the first time she had not hesitated about using his first name. He was making progress.

"On business matters only."

"She said you're very good," Cuiva remarked.

Perdimia shot a surprised glance at Rustin, who had to chuckle at such a confidence.

"I'd never have known had you not told me," Caleb said.

"Oh?" Cuiva's eyebrows shot up and now she resembled her mother more.

"I think," Perdimia interrupted gently, "that it's time we said good night, Lady Cuiva. It's been a very long and exciting day."

Cuiva obediently slid out of the chair. "Thank you, Caleb, for allowing me along on this trip."

So, Caleb thought, she prefers not to refer to the real reason she's on board. That was fine by him. No reason to upset the child needlessly.

"I know your mother meant to take you out on the Fiver when she returned from the shakedown cruise," he said, rising in deference to her rank. "Since I could appoint the crew, I asked for you to ride along with us."

"We will find my mother, won't we, Caleb?" Cuiva asked, her heart in her expressive blue eyes.

"Indeed we will, Lady Cuiva."

Cuiva's eyes were suddenly filled with tears and she took a deep breath. "If I may call you Caleb on board the Five B, you may certainly address me as Cuiva, Captain."

With that, she pivoted on her heel and walked briskly toward her cabin.

"She'll be fine," Perdimia murmured before following her charge.

"And safe," Caleb said to himself. He finished his meal and then went to his own cabin, to finish stowing his gear.

They were three hours away from the heliopause when Helm announced receipt of an encrypted message from Admiral Gollanch.

"We're to meet a courier at these coordinates," Caleb said after decoding the message. He was puzzled as well as annoyed. They were to heave to and await the courier's arrival. He tapped the numbers into Helm.

"You don't suppose there's been news from-" Kendra broke off.

He had the same thought: there'd been contact with Nimisha. His chest was filled with a sudden surge of some conflicting emotions. He wanted above all else to have Nimisha safe and sound, but he also, almost equally, wanted the chance to test the Five B. If by any chance it was a fault in the ship that had caused her disappearance, rather than the wormhole, he wanted to know.

Both Caleb and Kendra were right. The courier had a copy of the pulsed message that had been intercepted by a small interstellar freighter on the outskirts of explored space. It contained a message from Nimisha giving all the information her Helm had been able to collect as to her location-a location so far away that it was estimated that the Five B, travelling at maximum IS speed, would take four years to reach it. Fleet and Navy had verified the pulse beam as genuine. If the pulse had taken nearly sixteen months to reach this side of the galaxy, would Nimisha still be alive? Caleb firmly edited that thought out of his mind.

"Has a message been sent back, confirming receipt?" he asked. Even if the return pulse took another sixteen months to get back, it would reassure Nimisha that rescue was on its way.

"Yes, Commander," the courier said with a grin. "Like right then, saying you'd been ordered to those coordinates. I heard the CO say that updates will be sent to her on a regular basis." Then he handed over to Caleb the disk containing the new orders.

"I've got additional supplies for you on board. Commander," he added. "Admiral Gollanch's respects. You'll be away longer than you're provisioned for.And these." "These" were two packages: the sealed one had a note in Lady Rezalla's angular hand tucked under the gold cord of the distinctive Coskanito wrapping. The second, larger one obviously contained gowns, and Caleb lifted the cover high enough to see folds of white and gentian-blue.

Caleb had little doubt that the Coskanito box contained Lady Cuiva's necklace and he slipped it under his arm. The dress box he carefully put to one side while he gave orders for those on the Five B to help the courier crew unload the supplies. Well, the ceremony would be a few years late, that's all, but he devoutly hoped that it would be Nimisha who conducted that important ceremony for her daughter somewhere and sometime.

Admiral Gollanch's new orders to Captain Rustin were for him to proceed at maximum speed on IS drive to reach the beacon that Nimisha had had the good sense to release.

Handing the disk to Nazim, who was in the pilot's chair, Caleb told him to give Helm the data. He took the packages and went to find Cuiva. She was dutifully doing lessons in the cabin she shared with Perdimia. Cuiva gasped when she saw the dress box.

"I've very good news, Cuiva," Caleb said, gesturing for Perdimia to remain where she was. He sat on the edge of the bed. "Your mother's been found. Or rather, she's sent out a broad pulse that has finally been received. We're going to make all haste to the coordinates, but I have to add that she's very, very far away from where we are now."

Cuiva struggled not to break into tears; it was to Caleb, rather than to Perdimia, to whom she turned for comforting.

"Don't hold back the tears, Cuiva, dear," Caleb said. "You've been brave a long while, and there's just me and Perdimia here and we'll never tell."

She didn't sob long, despite her intense relief at the news. She was very shortly in control, drying her eyes on the handkerchief Caleb produced. Then he handed over the Coskanito box, which she clutched to her chest.

"A pulse message sent by your mother from way the south side of the galaxy was picked up at the edge of explored space by an interstellar vessel and relayed to Fleet Headquarters. The message has been verified as originating from equipment only she had available. My orders are now to proceed at all speed to that point."

Cuiva sniffled as she rocked slightly, the box in her arms. "So that's why my grandam has sent this. So my mother herself can Necklace me in-" She looked at the ceiling, reckoning the time to her fourteenth birthday."-one year, and eight months."

Caleb cleared his throat and looked anxiously at Perdimia for assistance.

"It'll be longer than that to get where your mother is, Cuiva, luv," he said as kindly as he could.

"But Mother has to put on my Necklace!" Cuiva exclaimed, sitting upright in her anguish.

"And so she shall, but it's going to take us roughly four years to reach that part of the galaxy, judging by the length of time it took the pulse to reach occupied space."

"Four… years?" Cuiva's voice squeaked in surprise. "But I'll be too old to be Necklaced."

"No, no," Perdimia started to say.

"My mother has to do it-"

She burst into tears again and Caleb took her in his lap this time to comfort her, stroking silken hair that had the feel of her mother's under his fingers. Hastily, he transferred his hands to her slender shoulders and back-

"Now, now, honey." He rocked her soothingly.

"There's cold sleep, Cuiva," Perdimia said, gently smoothing Cuiva's rumpled hair from her flushed and tearful face. "If Captain Rustin and Doc agree, you can go to sleep the day before you'd be fourteen and wake when we find your mother. Then she can properly Necklace you."

That solution seemed to ease the tears, and Cuiva sat up on Caleb's lap, still hugging the jewellery box.

"But you'll all be older… and so will Mother, if it's going to take that long to get there."

"But you," Caleb said, pushing one finger gently on the tip of her nose, as he would no longer dare to do to a son who was already in the Academy "will be just fourteen. Which seems to be the important issue we have to resolve."

"What about my grandam?" Cuiva sniffed, and then remembered her handkerchief and blew fiercely into it before wiping her cheeks. "She'll miss the ceremony, and so will my cousins and uncles and aunts."

"You'd really miss them?" Caleb asked teasingly.

"Not great-grandam Lady Astatine," Cuiva admitted candidly. "And some of my cousins definitely. But there's the celebration…"

"Nothing that Cater can't match, if not exceed," Caleb said. "I feel she's quite capable of spreading the most impressive minor majority feast ever presented this very select company. Wherever we have to hold that all-important ceremony," he added quickly.

While she considered that offer, Cuiva gradually eased her grip until the box settled to her lap. Now she handed it to Caleb.

"I think you'd better put this safely away then. Until we find Mother."

"You could go to sleep now, if you wanted to," Caleb suggested, but he heard Perdimia's mutter of dissent just as Cuiva shook her head.

"No, I've lessons to learn," Cuiva said firmly. "I want to know as much as I can from Commander Oscony, Chief Hadley, and Mareena. Then Mother will know I haven't wasted travel time or the pains you took to be sure I had good instructors while I'm away from Acclarke. I'll go to sleep"-she straightened her shoulders in a brave gesture-"the day before my fourteenth birthday." She turned to Perdimia. "That's the correct way to handle this problem, isn't it, Perdi?"

"It is certainly one solution," Perdimia said. "Perhaps Captain Rustin or Kendra or even Gaitama can think of another one. It's good to examine all available options."

"Well spoken, Perdimia," Caleb said, rising from the bed, the Necklace case in one hand. "We'll see what alternatives we can come up with."

"Thank you very much, Caleb," Cuiva said, suddenly adult again. "When will we be making the translation?"

"We're three hours from heliopause right now."

"But the Five B will have to get up to speed first before translation," Cuiva said.

"Correct. Did you want to stay awake for that?"

"It's uncomfortable, isn't it?" she asked, affecting unconcern.

"I'm accustomed to it, but if you'd rather be asleep, you won't notice it at all."

"I am rather tired," Cuiva admitted.

Perdimia was on her feet. "Then perhaps I'll just fix your bath, dear, and get you settled. You can read until you're sleepy…"

"That's an excellent idea," Cuiva said, still adult. "I do have that tape Chief Hadley recommended as an introduction to astronomy."

"Good night then, Cuiva, and sleep well. I'll put this-" Caleb lifted the hand holding the Coskanito box. "-in my security drawer."

"Thank you, Caleb."

And with that he left. He did exactly as he promised her. He did, however, open the jewellery case to have a preview of that magnificently crafted jewelled Necklace that would match the tattoo on Cuiva's neck. To his surprise, Nimisha's was also tucked in the box. It did not quite match her daughter's, but that was as it should be. He sighed. When they found Nimisha, she'd be able to wear her own Necklace as she placed the new one on her daughter's neck. This journey would certainly prove the Five B as a long-voyage vessel. He wondered if some instinct had prompted him in his careful selection of the crew for what had initially been just a shakedown cruise. Their endurance and patience would be vigorously tested in four years on a vessel this size.

And since this was going to be a much longer voyage, maybe he should give Cuiva the option to do a Junior Officer Qualification. It would give her another incentive for two years of lessons. Not a bad idea to make her a Practical Factor. He rather thought Nimisha would approve.

Syrona, with Nimisha and Casper in attendance and Doc supervising, was delivered of a fine healthy daughter.

"Helm, spread the word outside," Nimisha ordered.

"Oh, she's lovely," Syrona exclaimed when Nimisha put her daughter in her arms, "lust look at all that hair, and the eyelashes. Why she's marvellous! So much bigger than Tim was, and listen to her wail! She's much more robust than he was."

"You had me watching over you most of the pregnancy, Syrona," Doc said at his smuggest. "All the extra nutrition and the good catering you received makes the difference."

"When I think of how weak Tim was…" Tears formed in Syrona's eyes, trickling down her cheeks. "Oh!" she exclaimed, startled, as the afterbirth came out in a rush.

"That's all right now," Doc said, and a receptacle appeared in which Nimisha could deposit the placenta. "And a little something to encourage your milk."

"I didn't have much with Tim," Syrona said apologetically.

"You will this time," Doc promised. "And if you don't, Cater has substitutes that I know will do almost as well. Put the child on that platform, Nimisha, so I can record the vital statistics."

Nimisha did so. "Can I wash her now?" she asked almost testily. She knew the Sh'im females were waiting eagerly to see the new human baby. They were going to be surprised to be shown just one child since they had multiple births. Of course, the baby- Hope was the name Syrona had chosen for her-was much larger than Sh'im young at birth. Maybe that would help balance matters. Once she had finished with the gentle sponge bath she carefully wrapped the baby in the soft blanket Syrona had knitted, made from finely combed fur of the big shaggies.

Then Nimisha handed the neatly packaged little new bundle of life to its father.

"Go show her off, Casper," she said. And that's what he did, his face nearly cracked with his joyous smile as he displayed his daughter. Sh'im were oohing and ululing softly-whether it was out of courtesy for the newborn or because there was only one offspring to be shown Nimisha didn't care. None of Syrona's fears for this child had materialised, thanks to Doc attending her so early in the pregnancy and counteracting the effects of poor nutrition.

"She's so big," Casper was saying, showing her to Jon and Tim, and then to Ool, Ook, Ay, and Bee, who had crowded in close since they were, in effect, the oldest friends of the humans.

"She's not white," was Tim's critical assessment.

"She's certainly not as red as you were at birth," Jon said, ruffling the boy's hair.

"You mean, that's a natural colour for a baby?"

"You've seen the Sh'im young," Jon went on, "and frankly she's an improvement on those gray slugs."

"Ssssh," Tim said fiercely. "They'd be offended."

Jon laughed, and glanced up at Nimisha, still in the hatch. "Can we see Syrona while Casper does the honours?"

Nimisha beckoned them in, and Tim squeezed up the stairs ahead of Jon and rushed to the entrance of the main cabin, where he suddenly slowed and tiptoed to the medical couch.

"Mom?"

"I'm all right, Tim. Come on over," Syrona said, holding out her arms to him and smiling.

He was in her arms in two running steps, crying and hugging her. "I thought it'd never come."

"You mean, Hope, love?" Syrona said gently. "Why she didn't take long at all."

"She took hours, Mom!" The words were nearly a wail.

Nimisha glanced at Jon, who held back from congratulating the new mother.

"I don't think he's ever called her that-unless he was sick," Jon remarked softly. He put an arm around Nimisha's shoulders and hugged her against him, kissing her cheek. "Cater, I think it's champagne time," he said in a louder voice. "And I think Tim ought to try a sip of it, since he's now the oldest in his family."

Nimisha was always amazed at Jon's attitude toward his biological son. He never exhibited any paternal feelings toward the boy, yet he was as careful of him as Casper was and was just as proud of Tim's ability to cope with their new life among the Sh'im. Tim certainly could speak their language with far more fluency than any of the adults. Either he had more acute hearing-which Doc agreed was true-or he intuitively placed the sounds he couldn't hear in the context of the sentences. He still had to use the voice box, though, since his vocal cords could not approximate all the sounds Sh'im words used.

Jon was handing Nimisha a proper champagne flute-one drink wouldn't hurt, Doc assured her-from the tray he carried. She walked with him over to the couch, where he gave a glass to Syrona and one to Tim. A fifth remained on the tray that he set down on a nearby table.

"That is, if Casper ever comes back from showing Hope off."

"No fear of that," Nimisha said dryly. "A few hungry howls and he'll come back as fast as he can."

"Will she howl much?" Tim asked. But he was more interested in the bubbles rising up in the glass. When the adults raised their glasses in a toast, he followed suit.

"To the healthy Hope we've just received," Jon said.

"To Hope!" Tim's voice was as triumphant as the others. "I don't like it," he added, running his tongue over his teeth as he firmly set the glass down on the tray.

"It is an acquired taste," Jon remarked.

"And this is a special occasion," Nimisha added.

"For which I am infinitely grateful," Syrona said with a sigh, lying back against the pillows and closing her eyes.

"You all right, Syrie?" Tim asked.

They all heard a faint wail. Tim frowned. "Hope," he said with a note of complaint in his voice.

The sound was coming closer and then Casper was rushing into the Fiver, baby cuddled close against him.

"She's hungry, dear," Syrona said, reaching out for her daughter and deftly putting her to her breast.

Jon tactfully led Tim to a table, half-pushing him into a chair. "So, what was the Sh'im reaction, Casper?"

"I think they didn't expect her to be so big," Casper said. "Oh. champagne? Thanks."

"You can have mine, too, Cas." Tim offered.

"I will. They were surprised that there was only one, but we'd figured they would be, since they have multiple births."

"Humans are capable of them," Doc remarked.

"It is much easier to have one at a time," Syrona said firmly.

"Then why do you have two breasts?" Doc demanded.

"Symmetry," Nimisha replied, grinning at Jon.

"A point," Doc said, "but a woman could very easily suckle two children at once."

"If she had nothing else to do," Syrona said, her tone a little tart. "You can talk all you want, Doc, but you will never have babies. And, were I you, though I am indeed grateful for such an easy birth of a healthy child, I'd shut up about how many babies a woman should have at one time."

"I stand corrected," Doc said, sounding unusually meek.

"Thank you," Syrona said. She smoothed the fuzz on her daughter's round little head.

"I may not like champagne, but is there something else I could have because I'm a brother?" Tim asked wistfully.

"Cater, what have you that could convince our Tim that this is a celebration?" Jon asked.

"I believe I have just the thing," Cater said.

"Wow!" was Tim's response when he saw the three-layer cake, iced in white with lavish pink decorations adorning it. He brought it, along with plates and cutlery, back to the table, and displayed it to the men first. "It's got 'Happy Birth Day, Hope' written on it, Syrie!"

"You'd better be sure to leave me a piece, you ravenous lot. I'll have quite an appetite when I finish feeding this daughter of mine."

Travelling on IS drive as the Five B was, they could not receive additional pulsed messages.

The amenities on board did, indeed, prove felicitous. Unlike the accommodations on ordinary naval vessels, each cabin was so well built that no exterior sounds penetrated to disturb the occupant. This meant more privacy, a valuable commodity on an extended trip. Fortunately, though, the psych profiles had been accurate: There were no unpleasant altercations. Each specialist held classes that included more than Cuiva and allowed her the opportunity to interact with other people in the learning process. She had the sort of temperament that responded well to competition and discussion, a facet of education not available during her private tutoring. Caleb's idea of making her a JO, and giving her projects to be signed off on to prove she knew the material, was received with delight by Cuiva and nods of approval by the rest of the crew. She very much wanted to learn as much practical material as she could, to show her mother her achievements. The competition, friendly as it was, still inspired her to achieve at the highest possible level despite her being the youngest of the students.

She had received very good basic training: If she wasn't at the top of the class, she was rarely lower in the scale than second. She was most interested in astronomy and stellar navigation. She soon mastered everything Chief Hadley had to offer, so they both resorted to the educational tapes provided by the extensive ship's library.

"Some of these are just theories," Hadley warned her. "Can't take them as fact yet. Too da-" He cleared his throat and altered his phrasing. "Too bad we can't stop and examine some of the systems we're passing, so you could see examples."

"But we'll come out in a totally unknown sector of the galaxy," Cuiva said, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, "and we'll be the very first to catalogue ever so many new primaries and systems."

"Must admit I'm looking forward to that opportunity myself, young lady," Hadley said. "Now, let's do some exercises. We've missed Gaitama's general lesson watching that tape."

The main cabin was often sectioned off, to allow for multiple activities to be scheduled. Plays were rehearsed privately and then performed on the lower deck in the gymnasium. Perdimia had a little pipe that she taught Cuiva how to play. Gaitama had brought along a lap harp that she had made; Caleb had taught himself guitar, and Cherry had studied violin. All on board could sing, and so they included musicals in the evening entertainment. Cuiva was enchanted with so many things to do and new skills to learn. If she privately mentioned to Perdimia that Lady Rezalla might be shocked at all she was being taught-including some of Gaitama's unusual skills- she was overjoyed at the chance to learn what regular people did. The long journey continued.

Twins!" Nimisha's shriek of dismay echoed through the Fiver and brought Jon out of their cabin, where he had gone while Doc did his monthly examination.

"I thought you were expanding more than is normal," Doc remarked in a deceptively casual tone.

"Thought:"' Nimisha did not diminish her tone. "You've known for the past seven months, if not immediately after you told me I'd conceived, that I was having twins. In fact, I suspect that you may well have done something to ensure the egg split so that I would!"

"Nimisha. Really!" Doc's indignation sounded honest enough.

"I don't trust you, Doc."

"Is it true, Doc?" Jon asked, hurrying to the diagnostic couch. Delight and concern warred with each other in his expression as he helped the bulging Nimisha to sit up. She was bulky enough to need assistance, and that annoyed her even more. She had not been nearly as large with Cuiva.

"It is true that Nimisha is carrying twins. I thought I was hearing a mere echo of the heartbeat, but I now perceive that there are undeniably two. Some of my equipment is basic, you know, and amniocentesis and other more esoteric requirements in a maternity unit were not deemed required."

"Since you did a lot more than listen to foetal heartbeats in those tests you've been regularly subjecting me to, you've known!" Nimisha's eyes were flashing and her mouth was set in an angry line. "And I don't trust you not to have interfered. You had the chance."

Jon, looking abashed, scratched his head before he met her irate gaze.

"It might not be Doc's fault, luv. There are twins in almost every generation in my family. In fact, I'm one. I have a twin sister."

"You never mentioned her."

"It's not a fact that Fleet needed to record."

"Is it in your sister's file?" Nimisha demanded.

"She went into law," he said, still chagrined.

"Why, I'm no better than the Sh'im."

"I'd say you were not quite as good as the Sh'im, my dear," Doc remarked at his driest, "since the majority of their multiple births are triplets."

"That is small consolation." Her tone was acid as she slipped off the couch and waddled toward Cater, requesting a snack. She turned back for one more angry shot at the AI. "No wonder I eat more than Tim does." She whirled on Jon as she heard him trying to smother a laugh. "You watch out, Captain!" She waggled a finger at him.

"Whatever is wrong with having twins, dear heart?" Jon queried, striding ahead of her to collect the ordered snack and bring it back to the table. His agility only emphasised her own uncomfortable condition.

"How am I going to cope?" She turned around in her chair and shook a fist at the med unit. "And if you remind me that I have two breasts, I'll-I'll-reprogram you!"

"Not until after I've assisted your delivery," Doc said, totally unrepentant.

Nimisha snorted but was far too peckish to bother to reply as she picked up the leg of poultry she had ordered along with the vegetable salad and the baked potato that was served with other indigenous roots to which she had taken a particular liking.

She concentrated on eating as an excuse not to look at Jon, but he could outwait her petulance. He sat with folded arms, tipping his chair on its back legs, to wait until her temper improved. She finished her meal without a single word, but Jon, quite familiar now with his lover's moods, knew that she had regained a normal perspective.

"What are they, Doc? Boys? Girls?" Jon asked.

"Boy and girl. So if Nimisha will deign to accept the fact that I did not interfere in any way except to ensure the healthy development of both foetuses, I will feel less threatened."

"Well," Nimisha began, though Jon could see she was not quite convinced of Doc's innocence, "you could have warned me earlier. You've known a long time, Doc. I'm sure of that."

"Yes, I've known, but considering your speech when Hope was born, I kept my counsel. There was always the chance that one twin would dominate and absorb the other, or it would spontaneously abort."

Nimisha clutched at her belly in unconscious rejection of those possibilities. Then she allowed a penitent smile to spread across her face.

"Boy and girl, huh? Then we'll be able to use both names, won't we, Jon?"

He leaned across the table and kissed her with the tenderness that he had displayed toward her throughout her pregnancy. She stroked his cheek and allowed the kiss to continue.

"The Sh'im females will approve," she said when they parted.

"There's that," Jon blithely agreed.

Nimisha went into labour with both Jon and Syrona assisting Doc. As the medic had predicted, she had less trouble delivering the twins than she had had with Cuiva.

"But then, you've kept fit and you're a multipara," Doc said. "Second delivery," he explained.

The Sh'im were overjoyed to see that the humans could follow what they considered the best way to increase population. If Nimisha had worried about how to feed twins, she found herself overwhelmed with offers of assistance. The Sh'im suckled their offspring until teeth appeared, after which they chewed food into pulp and fed it to their young. But many continued to lactate. Since Nimisha was unable to feed the lusty twins for more than six weeks, Cater supplied formula milk, increasing its strength as the babies grew. There was always someone quite willing to feed Perria and Sven their bottles. Jon proved as devoted and affectionate a father to them as she could have wished: far superior to Rhidian, or any other man of her acquaintance.

Nimisha was as glad to be freed up from heavy maternity duties as there was so much to be done: organising improvements in all the Sh'im settlements, teaching those who were now past producing young and wished to take on new duties, and using her own engineering skills to develop useful tools. Often she thought fondly of Lord Tionel and the "toys" he had given her to assemble and disassemble. Those designs and that experience were proving to be incredibly useful now. The one disappointment, the anxiety that nagged at the back of her mind when she was falling asleep at night, was when would they hear news from home? The beacon seemed to absorb the updates Helm sent, but he reported no incoming pulses.

When Syrona had twins, Nimisha's suspicions about Doc's interference, however well intentioned, surfaced. Though there were no multiple births in either of Syrona's and Casper's families, Doc insisted that he had not interfered. Good food, proper rest, perhaps some unknown factor in the planet itself had caused Syrona's ovaries to release two eggs at once. Even the small grazers, called boks in deference to the old-Earth-type antelope they resembled, were having multiple births.

"Could have something to do with the fact they feel safe," Casper suggested. He was far from upset to know that Syrona was carrying mixed twins. "A general fertility increase for all of us."

Nimisha refused to be convinced. It was all too true to say that everyone felt safe now in the six Sh'im towns; their allies rarely had fewer than three births at a time, and more accommodations had to be raised. With repeller shields to protect settlements, they no longer needed to seek caves for shelter from the avian denizens.

In order to reduce that danger, the four adult humans led a large band of well-armed Sh'im, transported in the three air vehicles available, for a concerted attack on the mountain mews where the avians bred their young.

The nests, with as many as twenty eggs, were destroyed, along with as many of the female defenders as possible. At Doc's suggestion, they also left out poisoned substances, reluctantly prepared by Cater to simulate what the avians preferred to eat. The poison that Doc concocted, having examined the flesh of an avian before scavengers could devour it, would inhibit the formation of healthy yolks in the eggs.

"We may succeed in reducing the population on this continent in the next decade or so," Doc remarked.

"You're fixated on eggs, Doc," Nimisha said slyly

"Not at all, m'dear Nimisha," was his airy reply, "but it does get to the heart of the problem."

When the resources of the freighter were exhausted, the humans turned to the primitive mining that the Sh'im had already begun, and Nimisha focused her design talents on designing better mine hoists, drills, tracks, and carts.

"Rather primitive…" she said, dubiously reviewing the sketches.

"I'm no mining engineer," Jon replied, "but I don't see why those wouldn't work. You based them on data from the library."

"I just wish there were an easier, less physical way of achieving the same results," she said. "It's bloody hard work, even if we have been able to locate the main lodes without having to do a lot of exploratory prospecting."

"The Sh'im won't mind," Syrona said.

"They'd be delighted to have work for some of the maturing younglings," Casper said.

"They don't pay attention to lessons. Ay says we've made life too easy for them," Tim put in, disgusted. He was usually included in planning sessions since he often contributed good ideas, being closer in so many ways to the Sh'im. He, Ay, and Bee formed quite a triumvirate. "Used to be that as soon as they had all their teeth, they were sent out to hunt, gather wood, and search for tuber plants."

"Well, I've designed the mining equipment for three-fingered usage," Nimisha said, tapping the drawings.

"What'll I use then?" Tim asked, affronted.

"You don't need to mine," Syrona said.

"I gotta show 'em all that I can do everything they can, and better. Then they can't figure out ways to show me up," Tim said with a malicious grin.

The others all laughed.

"We had noticed that little trick, Tim," Jon said approvingly.

The inauguration of the Fiver-Sh'im Mining Company involved Nimisha as chief engineer so completely that she failed to notice any indications that she was beginning a third pregnancy.

"Nimi, pet," Jon began one morning as they started the day by indulging in the most pleasurable of activities, "you can't be putting on weight just here…" He spread his wide hand across her abdomen, "And, unless I'm mistaken, you seem to be a trifle touchy here-" He touched her left breast.

"Oh, shaggit," she murmured, feeling her belly and wincing as she prodded her breasts. "I am pregnant. Not," she added hurriedly, kissing him, "that I mind. The twins are old enough."

"Have you seen Doc?"

"No, I haven't," she replied quickly and then grinned. "And it's too late for him to fiddle me again."

Jon turned a chuckle into an amused snort before he gathered her close against him. Then, with one finger, he traced the tattoo on her neck. "I never thought I'd father Vegan First Family progeny…"

"Let me remind you that we are the First Families of Erehwon, and that's an achievement reserved to two families alone! Not many planets can boast that kind of hierarchy. Or do I mean hegemony?"

"Oligarchy?" Jon put in.

"Aristocracy… of some sort or another."

"Whatever," Jon said, and then he turned serious, smoothing her long hair back from her face. "Get Doc to check you over. You've been working pretty hard in the mines. And you're to stay out of them from now on, hear me?"

"Oh, come on, Jon," she said, a bit annoyed. "It's not as if we've had any problems, not with being able to seal the shafts the way we have."

He pulled her back when she started to rise. "No, I'm serious, Nimisha. You take enough chances as it is. Please don't take unnecessary risks."

"And I haven't."

"We all have," he said in a very serious tone. "We all know we have, but there's even more at stake for you now." Once again he placed his hand on her abdomen.

"We can't ask the Sh'im to do what we won't. Tim's notion on that score is very accurate," she protested.

"Even the Sh'im females know when to stop working, lover mine."

Nimisha looked down at a stomach no longer flat, feeling here and there as if trying to estimate what was going on inside. "I can't be that far along. I've been feeling so energetic. Last time it was all I could do to get out of bed some mornings."

"It's your third-" He inhaled sharply, for any reference to her first daughter tended to sadden her.

"My third, yes. And Cuiva will be fourteen in three days. My dam will put on her Necklace-" Nimisha bit her lip, tears forming in her eyes."-and pronounce that she has reached her minor majority so she can take her rightful place in society. Won't my dam just love that!"

"Oh, my love…" Jon held her tenderly against him, wishing there were some way to relieve her anguish.

"We can't be at the end of the universe, can we, that we've heard nothing?" she asked piteously.

"I devoutly hope not," Jon said firmly, doing his best to comfort her.

"I designed that beacon. It's eating our messages, so the receiver's working."

"I do feel more confidence in anything you've designed, love," Jon said with a twinkle in his eye. "Now if it had been Fleet issue, I could entertain doubts."

She sniffed, rubbed tears from her cheeks, and gave him an over-bright smile. "I'm silly. There's not a damned thing I can do about it. Nor you, but you're sweet to worry over it." She kissed him, pushed him away, and decisively swung her legs over the side of the bed.

She didn't immediately check with Doc. Jon had to remind her twice. When she did, Doc sounded peevish.

"I honestly didn't know," Nimisha said, imbuing her tone with innocent surprise. "Jon noticed my belly protruding more than it should the other morning…"

"Other morning?" Doc repeatedly sarcastically.

"Two mornings ago, all right? I had to supervise the drilling of that new shaft in the iron mine."

"Had to?"

"Had to," she said, getting angry.

"You're fine; foetal health and development is normal." She felt a spray penetrate her left buttock. "That's concentrated full-spectrum vitamins and minerals. I'll send Cater the information for dietary additives. You may follow your troglodyte imperatives until even you can't fit in those holes you're digging."

Unaccustomed to such curtness from Doc, Nimisha made haste to leave the Fiver and indulge in the "troglodyte" activities on her schedule. All too soon she discovered a sudden claustrophobia, and because Ess and Uv were now well able to supervise the underground work, she let them.

Other Sh'im, aided by Helm, were printing out the Sh'im history found on board the Bird Ship, as well as translating Sh'im glyphs into English. Helm was also translating a short history of humankind into Sh'im for Ool, Ook, and any others who might be interested. The older Sh'im, unable to work as long or hard as they had in their younger days, found that reading passed the time enjoyably. They repeated the information in storyteller sessions in the evenings, amusing the youngest Sh'im.

At Nimisha's suggestion, Helm had glossed over human pre-space history and emphasised the space exploration and colonising as more palatable to a species that had never indulged in wars and massacres. Then she accessed some of the ancient tales Nurse had read to her, and she made time every evening to read to Perria and Sven, who loved nothing better than a chance to curl up with Mimi, as they called her, and be read to.

We'll miss you, you know, Cuiva," Caleb said, his remark echoed by everyone else gathered the day before Cuiva's fourteenth birthday.

"I don't believe I'll be aware of time passing," she said with a charming smile that reminded him of neither her mother nor her grandam. It was completely Cuivish, a development of the last year as she picked up womanly traits from the other five women on board the Five B.

She had learned everything she could from the specialists and signed off on every area open to a Junior Officer. She had then delved into independent and rather esoteric studies, almost exhausting the formidable resources of the onboard library. She had written two operettas that she had directed and performed in- scripting eminently suitable parts for crew and the three AI's, though Cater was the weakest of the cast and generally managed only the easiest of lines, similar to her programmed responses as Cater. Cuiva had composed music that Cherry, the most accomplished of the musicians on board, had genuinely acclaimed as close to brilliant.

"My grandam would definitely not have approved," Cuiva had said with one of her wry grins. "First Families do not perform for payment."

"Who's getting paid?" Kendra had demanded. She was usually cast as the heroine, since she had a light but well-placed soprano; as Caleb was usually the baritone hero, she had no objections whatever. Their onstage romantic parts had led to offstage intimacies.

But despite all these activities with companions who had become a surrogate family, Cuiva did not waver from her intention to sleep until her mother could Necklace her on her fourteenth birthday.

Gaitama, swearing all the time at losing her good friend, had constructed a special cabinet to be secured in the gig, which had been programmed to exit the garage and return to base if the ship had to be abandoned for any reason. Caleb had insisted on that precaution, and Cuiva had accepted it. At last, she thanked them all for what she had learned from them, kissed them all, and then laid herself down in the medical unit. With all her friends watching, Doc initiated the suspension.

The entire crew felt her absence in the first weeks, and Perdimia became quite depressed.

"I should have gone to sleep, too," the bodyguard said. "That would be in keeping with my contract with Lady Rezalla."

"You're watching over her all the time as it is," Caleb said, knowing how often Perdimia slipped out of the main cabins and into the garage to be sure the life signs on Cuiva's sleep capsule were functioning properly. He was somewhat at a loss to find her occupation, until Doc suggested that Perdimia study nursing with him. It was always a useful profession, and she had sufficient time to qualify in the two and a half years remaining of their trip.

"But I'll be Lady Cuiva's companion when she wakes," Perdimia said in a weak argument.

"And certainly she'll need special attention in the first week after she's roused," Doc responded. "And if Lady Nimisha has, as we suspect, gone into suspended animation until she is rescued, your new nursing skills will be an important factor in her complete recovery."

Perdimia was persuaded, and once agreeable, she applied herself with the same sort of single-minded dedication that her charge had shown. If she spent her free time reviewing the tapes made of Cuiva's performances and recitals, that was her option. She wasn't the only one who did so.

And theFive B continued on her course for yet another long year.