Reclamation

7—The Home Ground, Hour 08: 19: Settlement Time

Contractor Kelat looked down at his hand and flexed the newly grown finger. He smiled and felt his chest swell. He had never really believed he would be able to have it regrown. He had never believed he would really walk on the Home Ground.

He looked about him. And he had certainly never dreamed it would be like this.

They had had to seal the building, if four walls of patched cement with a polymer sheet for a roof could be called a building, and install an atmosphere-processing plant. The Beholden and the Engineers worked with zeal and the whole process took only a few hours. The inside was a wreck. Everything was preserved, certainly, but it was also vacuum welded and corroded by dust and radiation. There had been liquid in a lot of the mechanisms that had evaporated centuries ago, allowing the circuitry to collapse into incomprehensible jumbles.

So much gone. So much stolen.

But so much left, he reminded himself. So much that can be done. Outside, the thin atmosphere just barely carried the rumble of the excavation machinery. The Engineers were carefully digging down around the base of the pillar Baiel had found. The Engineers’ scans indicated it was a part of a network that extended…everywhere. Kelat allowed himself a smile at the bewildered look the Engineer gave him.

Kelat glanced toward where he knew the mountain range lay and wished, fervently and irrationally, that Jahidh would signal with more news of the artifact he had found. If the theories were correct, they were holding two halves of the Ancestors’ system, the human-derived and the mechanically derived, and until they could bring them together, they would never understand how the Ancestors’ world worked.

What bothered Kelat was that there did not seem to be any obvious interface between the two. There were control boards and readouts and other input-output sources that were perfectly comprehensible to the Historians and Engineers, but there was nothing that seemed to justify the enormous effort it would have taken to breed human-derived artifacts. Kelat could not bring himself to believe the Ancestors had created them to no definite purpose, not with the cost their creation had entailed.

“Contractor?” One of the contract apprentices made obeisance. “There is a message for you from the artifact reclamation subcommittee, 196.”

Kelat made his way over to the portable board and sat on the stool in front of it. He was ashamed to admit it, but he was looking forward to having a few more trappings of civilization installed.

The touch of his fingertips on the screen opened the channel. Caril’s face appeared against the grey background.

Kelat glanced sharply left and right. No Witness was in the room. They were occupied watching the activity outside, not the administrative details. His mind began the First Grace in thankfulness.

“What news?” he asked.

“The Grand Errand is being moved to the encampment in orbit around Kethran Colony,” said Caril. “Stone in the Wall has been located there, in one of their gene-tailoring facilities.”

The work of the Ancestors in the hands of outsiders! Kelat was aghast. He hoped it did not show. Caril was easily impressed or repulsed by appearances.

“What do we know about her circumstances?”

“Basq’s committee is expecting difficulties and has requested to be put on the Assembly docket to authorize a bribe for the colony officials to recover her. Kethran feeling is hostile to the Vitae presence and her contract is being held by a member of one of their first families. We may offer to withdraw. The projections show that if we did, the local government would request our return within fifteen years. The trade-off will probably be deemed acceptable.”

Kelat’s newly grown finger began to twitch. He stilled it. “Is there any way we might recover her first?”

“Paral is reconstructing an activity trail. Outside the Amaiar Gardens, she appears to only have had brief contact with a Shessel-held communications firm.”

Kelat thought. “Would you say it is a safe prediction that if the artifact felt threatened, she would attempt to run away?”

“That is certainly her observed behavior.”

“Then our course of action seems clear.” As he spoke, a measure of calm returned to him. “We induce her to run. Have we any of our own people on Kethran?”

Caril paused, considering. “A few. It will be possible for me to send Paral down to coordinate.”

“Paral…” Kelat hesitated. “He’s very young, Caril.”

“He is dedicated. He will do what is necessary.”

As does Jahidh, but that does not mean an efficient operation. Kelat tried to see alternatives, but could not. “Just impress upon Paral that he is to do no more than necessary, Caril.”

“What about Eric Born?”

“He was seen on May 16, but his ship left orbit before any movement could be coordinated to recover him. Basq’s network traces have been put in place, and we are waiting.”

The hum from the excavation changed pitch and Kelat made an abrupt decision. “If you are forced to make a choice, Caril, the female artifact has priority over the male.”

“Understood, Contractor.”

“And let me contact you next time. The Witnesses here have no fixed posts. Bad timing could see us added to the Memory prematurely.”

“Also understood.” With that, she closed the line and the screen went black.

Kelat sat watching the blank screen for a long moment. His new finger twitched spasmodically against his thigh.

This was bad, this was wrong. There were too many factors too far out of control. But what could be done? The Imperialists were committed. The dependence on service could not continue. The power in the Quarter Galaxy was shifting with the rise of the Unifiers and the discovery of the Shessel. The Vitae were in danger of losing their footing. The rule had to become open and firmly established. The artifacts and the Home Ground were the keys to the Imperialist success. They had to be recovered and understood.

Kelat bowed his head and began reciting all six Graces.

There was nothing else to do.

Abassyd Station was so new, even the Vitae hadn’t had a chance to get themselves organized on it. No comet-branded ships waited in its docks. Its personnel roles had only half a dozen Vitae designations listed. The construction records showed the Vitae’s private area was yet to be built.

But they were in there. Eric leaned forward in the copilot’s seat and stared at the view screen showing the station’s skin. Its cylindrical modules gleamed silver and gold in the light of a distant sun. The Vitae were under there, supervising, devising, scheming.

It had taken 172 hours to get here from May 16. The U-Kenai had been hanging from the docking clamps for an additional eight hours, and so far, nothing had happened. If the Vitae had noticed that his little ship didn’t match the transmission that described it, they weren’t making an audible fuss about it. He glanced at the comm board. There hadn’t been a twitch or flicker since the initial recorded docking message.

Eric stared at his fingertips where they rested against the board’s edge.

What are you waiting for, Teacher? Permission from the Nameless? Or just from the Rhudolant Vitae?

During the flight time, he’d arranged a small shipment of microchips and equipment for himself. It wasn’t due to arrive at the station for another forty-eight hours. Ostensibly to save money, he’d listed his decision with the dockmaster to bunk in his ship rather than rent a room. Right now, Adu was linking the ship’s computers into the station’s communications network so that he could catch up on the news and be notified as soon as his shipment arrived.

The Rhudolant Vitae were also hooked into the network.

“Time to go swimming,” he muttered as he stood up.

“What do you need me to do?” asked Adu.

Eric started and stared at the android. “Sorry. I’m used to Cam. He never volunteered information if it wasn’t an emergency.”

“Understood.” Adu puckered the android’s mouth in a gesture that Eric guessed was meant to be a smile. “But what do you need me to do?”

“Wait,” said Eric. “And when the information starts coming in, make sure it gets into the datastores. I’m not going to be able to be very discriminating about how I shovel in what I get. When the data comes in, I’m going to need you to siphon out the useful segments, any references to MG49 sub 1 or the Realm of the Nameless Powers, Eric Born or Stone in the Wall. And keep Cam’s security programs up and running.” He stopped. “You might also make sure the emergency beacon is primed to send a message to Yul Gan Perivar in the Amaiar Division on Kethran Colony. If something happens, Perivar should be told.” Adu was looking at him with a disturbing steadiness. “He’s a communications professional. If the Vitae are watching us, he’ll be able to get a message through to Dorias with a lot less risk than we could.”

“Do you think…something will happen?”

The tone in Adu’s voice was soft, almost like a child’s fear. With an odd twinge, Eric realized that was exactly what it was. He gave Adu the smile he reserved for hand-marking days.

“Not really, but I want to be on the safe side.”

“Also understood.” The android turned back to its work and Eric retreated to the common room’s work station. Tapping the line from the common room would leave Adu more room on the bridge to work.

Eric sat in front of the work station just as the green light blinked on above the main board. The line to Abassyd Station was open and clear, waiting for his signal. Eric stared at the board for a long moment, trying to find the nerve to begin his task. If this did not work…if this did not work…

The Nameless speak of this deed. The words of consecration surfaced in his mind, startling him, but he let them continue. Their Words give it substance. It is true and cannot be denied. The Servant watches this deed. His eyes see my path. It is true and cannot be denied.

He swiveled the comm chair around so the board was at his right side. Then he lifted his hand and laid it on the keys.

Once, he’d heard Perivar and Tasa Ad trying to find words to fit the power gift into the way they saw the universe. They had eventually settled on something like “resonance fields which manipulated quantum effects.”

Kessa, on the other hand, had said, “It ain’t natural, but it works, what more do you need?”

Kessa had a very direct approach.

Eric couldn’t read a computer’s mind any more than he could read a human being’s, but his gift could give him a feel for the workings, both mechanical and logical. Once he knew that, the only way to keep him out of a system was to shut the power down, or incapacitate him.

The board’s smooth polymer pressed against his skin and quickly became slick with his perspiration. He closed his eyes.

What I do is true. What I do is seen and spoken. It cannot be denied.

I cannot be denied.

He let his gift flow from his hands into the console. Familiar territory. He knew its shapes and nuances. With the barest effort, the blind fingers of his power made sure the configuration of the gate between the board and the open line was the proper shape. Then they scuttled down the clear channel, playing his consciousness out like a rope behind them.

The open terminal on the station was easy to find. It almost pulled him straight to it, funneling his senses down into the lines and etched pathways. The fingers of his power divided themselves to probe for the open paths between the closed ones. He moved patiently, feeling the walls to determine the shape of the place he worked in. He activated nothing. He changed nothing. He just touched the walls and remembered.

Eric found the pathways reassuringly familiar. It was all standard terminals and standard gates. Standard means to standard ends. The datastream pulled him along and Eric rode the current. His power gift divided, and divided again until he found a major routing station. Eric explored the paths leading out of it, ten at a time, until he touched a place that made his skin curdle because it felt completely strange.

He probed the strangeness carefully. It was an open portal, no question there. Information flowed steadily through it like water through a sluice gate, but the shape of the gate was undefined. It shifted minutely under his delicate touch. He recalled the other fingers, consolidating his power into a single probe and slid it across the yielding surface into the data-stream.

And there was nothing there.

Eric fell into formless vacuum, the thread of his consciousness streaming out, lost and flailing. There was nothing to hold on to, no paths, nothing to do but fall.

Too far! Too far! Stop it! Pull back!

No!

His power gift slammed against a surface and lay still. Gradually, Eric recovered himself enough to move it again, searching to find a shape in this new place. Like the gate, it yielded to the lightest touch. It held its shape only loosely. It reminded him of something else he knew the touch of. It felt like…a living body.

The realization jolted through Eric and almost broke his concentration. This wasn’t silicate and current he was dealing with. This was a realm of synapses and diffusing chemicals. Eric let his power’s fingers spread out, encompassing as much of the new space as he could reach, trying to understand the ebb and flow of the new medium. The logic of it came to him slowly. This was a place to filter and organize and redirect. The gates made of nerve fibers weren’t laid out in tidy lines like silicate gates, but there was a pattern there. It was subtle and easily disturbed. Eric lifted his power’s fingers from the surface and let them drift, trying to understand the scope of the system. He wished in vain for a way to see the surroundings, but the best he could do was imagination. His mind’s eye showed him a web of synapses stretching out to make a taut network of nerves. His power found holes in the net. Channels to other places that opened and closed in response to the system’s need.

Eric held his power gift in one place, feeling the triggers and responses that moved around him. Pins and needles began to prickle his physical hands and a cramp started in his left foot. He ignored the discomfort. He had to. He had to concentrate on understanding what he touched.

Eventually the pins and needles faded away. Eric could no longer feel his physical hands at all. He didn’t care. He could feel the shape of the commands that flowed through the synapses. He touched the places where the commands were fabricated and he knew how they were generated and which channels they opened. He understood the system. Maybe not everything, but enough.

He let his power slide down an open channel to see where the commands went.

He fell again. He clenched his jaw and held his panic in check. When he landed, the surface was firm and orderly. Silicate channels with orderly gates and switches waited at right angles nearby.

Now that the basics of the system had been defined, it did not take Eric long to understand the specifics. There were only so many ways you could store data, and only so many ways you could retrieve it, no matter what the shape of your container. A Vitae system would be ruthlessly logical and efficient. He could feel their data in tidy little packages, lined up and blocked together, all of it uniformly and exhaustively labeled.

Don’t say “exhaustive.” He swallowed. His throat was completely dry. His lungs strained to drag in enough air to keep him conscious.

He could feel the shape of open gateways and command protocols that led to more distant storage areas. Places he couldn’t possibly reach directly. It didn’t matter. They would be reached for him.

Eric withdrew to the shifting, organic layer. He found the nerves he needed and pressed against them until they yielded the commands he required. Then he followed those commands down into the silicate layer. Closed gates blocked his commands, preventing their execution. His power gift forced the channels open and sealed their gates in place. When all the data was flowing freely, his power doubled back on itself and followed its own length back to the U-Kenai. Back to him.

Eric’s hand slid off the board and dropped to his side. He could not lift it. All he could do was shake and gulp air like a man who has nearly drowned. Perspiration flowed into his eyes, making them sting and water. The pounding of his heart shook his whole body.

Nameless Powers preserve me. Never been this bad.

He opened his mouth to try to call for Adu, and gave up. He couldn’t force any noise from his throat but a sickly wheeze. His head fell back against the chair.

I’ll be all right in a minute, he told himself as his eyes closed. In a minute. Time passed, he knew that, but he didn’t know how much. Awareness came and went. He did not have the strength to interfere with its whims. Eventually he was able to breathe normally and the perspiration dried on his neck and face, even though his tunic remained soaking wet. So did his trousers. Eric tried not to think about that.

With an effort, he was able to reach across the boards and stab the request key on the food dispenser for water. He gulped it desperately, spilling half of it down his shirtfront. His stomach rebelled at the invasion of fluid and almost rejected it. The strain of keeping the water down nearly cost Eric his ability to stay sitting up. He felt better, though. He could think enough to open the intercom to the bridge.

“Adu,” he croaked, “are you getting anything?”

“Lots,” came the reply. “I’m processing it now. I’ll find the most recent references and route them back to your screen as soon as I can.”

“Good. Good.” Eric swiveled his chair around so he faced the drawer of ration squares. Hunger burned in him with nauseating intensity. Even the ration squares smelled wonderful. Eric forced himself to eat slowly. Exhaustion and trembling hands helped. He consumed three whole bricks before the edge of his hunger blunted and he felt some real measure of strength return to him, enough, at least, to muster some disgust at his filthy condition.

He got to the cleaner stall by leaning against walls and doorways. He sat on the tiles while the sonics shook the grime from his skin and clothes. His eyelids drooped. He wanted sleep, badly. Sleep would take care of the ache in his head and in his eyes. Sleep. Yes. That would do it.

Not yet. Eric jerked his sagging head back up. Need to make sure we’ve got what we came for, first. Nameless grant that we’ve got what we need. I couldn’t survive using the gift again anytime soon.

He stumbled back to his chair and fell into it. The message DATA WAITING glowed on the main screen. Eric hit the PLAY key and slumped back, forcing his eyelids to stay open until the screen cleared and the information Adu had retrieved began to unfold for him.

What appeared was a video recording of a gathering hall. Despite his fatigue, Eric sat up straighten The place was filled with people standing on broad, flat tiers that rose from a central platform. Here and there he saw the scarlet robes and bald scalps that were the defining traits of every Vitae he’d ever seen, but they were the minority. Over a hundred men and women, robed in every color he could have imagined, stood in that room. Their skin was tinted solid black or clear pink, and every shade in between. They were bald, or bearded, or carefully coiffured. Metal and jewels dangled from wrists and necks and pierced skin. Some were missing appendages, ears or fingers or…Eric winced as he saw one old man with a hollow eye socket. There was something else. Eric leaned closer to the screen and squinted. Around each human form hung a vague corona of ghost white light.

They’re holograms. I’m looking at an assembly of holograms.

A hole opened in the central stage. Five figures, the only real people in the room and all clothed in solid black robes, mounted a sunken staircase. Behind them walked five more people. These wore green and all had camera sets mounted over their right eyes. The procession ringed the stage, facing the assembled holograms with the people in green standing a little behind the ones in black.

“The Reclamation Assembly is called to order and sealed to its purpose,” said the black-robed man with his back toward Eric’s point of view. “Because of the critical nature of what we must discuss, I call for the assembly to agree to allowing a mechanical tally of attendance and transmission of the records of the previous meeting to personal data storage for review and confirmation at a later date. Do any here wish to register objections?” There was silence.

The square-jawed woman who stood facing Eric spoke next. “There are three items of business that must be approved immediately. First is the proposed method to counter the current activity of the Unifiers regarding the status of the Home Ground in the view of the client governments of the Quarter Galaxy.”

Home Ground? Eric frowned. I didn’t think the Vitae had a home.

“Second is the procedure for seizure and control of the artifacts on the Home Ground.”

The translation must be mucked up. That can’t be what she said.

“Third is the procedure for establishing habitable zones for the main body of Vitae emigration.”

The man standing to her immediate left spoke. “Historian Masselin of the Guardian Voice will present the first proposal.”

The crowd of holograms faded from view, leaving a single figure, a bald Vitae in an amethyst robe, standing on the third tier from the stage.

“We still do not have a reliable model of how the Aunorante Sangh accomplished the theft of the Home Ground…”

“Adu!” Eric started to his feet and slapped his hand down on the STOP key.

“What?” came back the android’s voice.

Eric backed away from the screen. “Where are you getting this translation from? It’s screwed up eight-eight ways.” He stabbed a finger toward the keyboard.

“The translation is accurate.”

“It can’t be!”

Adu stepped into the doorway. “Why not?”

Eric stared at the blank screen and realized he was still pointing. He lowered his hand slowly and swallowed. “Because,” he said as if he could force reason into his words, “Aunorante Sangh is a term from the Realm, not from the Vitae. This translation is coming through in Standard, and it must have gotten cross-fed with the…”

He suddenly remembered Basq’s sharp response when he had used the term. A slow, sick sensation closed in on him. Fear, with unwanted comprehension following fast behind.

They thought they’d be able to talk to Aria without help. Why did they think that?

“Adu,” Eric croaked, “do a data sort for me. The cross-reference is Aunorante Sangh."

“Right.” He turned away, then turned halfway back. “Are you all right?”

Eric didn’t answer; he just sank back into his chair.

What’s the matter with me? I left that all behind. I left! I…Eric looked down at his hands and watched the smooth, blank, brown skin stretch and relax as his fists clenched and unclenched.

Right. I left. But I haven’t forgotten anything. And I still go back. First sign of trouble and I’m right back where I started.

Oh Nameless Powers and Metthew Garismit, let me be wrong. Let me be sick and tired and completely wrong. Eric pressed the heels of both hands against his eyes. Garismit’s Eyes! How could I have hoped to get away!

“…recording the statements of Bio-technician Uary of the Grand Errand. Proceed, Technician.”

Eric lifted his hands away from his eyes. On the screen, a pinched young man in a bright purple robe was unbending from a deep bow. At a table in front of him sat a man and a woman both robed in black. The man’s hand lay on the table and only had four fingers on it.

“Contractor Avir, Contractor Kelat, I have entered the data from the DNA analysis on Eric Born into data storage, but my findings are…”

Eric’s throat closed. He swallowed to clear it, but could do nothing to move his frozen gaze, or close his opened jaw.

The purple-robed man, Uary, leaned against the tabletop. Above the table appeared a holographic representation of two beaded, twisted strings.

“This is Born’s DNA construct. It is between one-half and one-third the length of the DNA sequence of any other race from the Evolution Point that our databases have on file. This brevity and lack of redundancy attests to his artificial genesis as much as his extramechanical ability. But within this short stretch, his Engineers"—Uary paused—"left no less than three hundred nucleotide sequences that can be identified as unique to the Rhudolant Vitae.”

Avir rose slowly. “Be very, very sure about what you are saying, Technician.” There was a tremor in her voice that sounded to Eric like eagerness.

“I am, Contractor,” said Uary with absolute finality. “Eric Born’s ancestors must have been engineered from Vitae DNA. If we know where his world is, it is likely we have found the Home Ground again. There is no question in my mind but that he is Aunorante Sangh.”

No.

“We will have to confirm…”

The Nameless sent their Servant, who saw a way to move the world…

“…will authorize a probe…”

Funny-looking place, isn’t it? Out there on its own.

“I cannot at this time offer congratulations…”

It ain’t natural, but it works…

“No!” Eric shouted aloud.

It couldn’t be. The Realm could not really have been moved. It was not possible. There could not have really been Nameless Powers who walked the world and created their people. They could not have really sent their Servant, who understood how to move the world to get it away from…Eric stared at the robed figures in their bare silver room. To get it away from these people in their ships.

“If this is true, though, Technician,” the black-robed man with the mutilated hand was saying, “your name will be remembered in every chapel on every ship on every day of worship. You and Basq will have brought us home.”

It’s nothing! The Words are just lies and air and a way to maintain power! There were no Nameless! There can’t be! Because if there were…

If there were, I’ve sinned. I went over the World’s Wall and I led the Vi…the Aunorante Sangh back to the Realm…

Have to get out of here.

“Adu!” he called to the bridge. “Get us out, head anywhere, break the limits and go!”

“I can’t.”

“What!” Eric staggered down the corridor to the bridge. Adu sat motionless in its chair, watching the screens.

“This ship has been placed under a quarantine lock.”

“Quarantine lock?” Eric repeated, trying to force his mind to understand. He knew the term, but his mind wouldn’t define it for him.

“Standard precaution built into space traffic hardware and software, so that in case of a computer or biological virus the ship can be held in isolation. While the quarantine is active, the docking bolts will not release the U-Kenai."

They’d be coming for him. Now. At once. They were on their way. They’d been waiting for him.

“They won’t have me.”

And what am I going to do to stop them? I can barely stand up.

“They won’t have me,” he repeated through clenched teeth. “Adu, find a way to override the quarantine.”

“It will take…”

“I know. Release the beacon and get going on the lock.” Eric returned to the common room.

No time for hesitation. He was under siege. He had to buy all the time he could and worry about any damage he did if he survived that long. He hit the seal for the door and tore out the wires in the lock. Ignoring the sting on his palms, he jammed the manual bolt home. He dashed across the common room and sealed both cabin doors.

Make them hunt.

He lifted the hatch under the view wall and climbed down the ladder to the drive room. Dizziness made the walls sway drunkenly as he reached up to shut the hatch and slide the locking bolts shut.

Make them dig.

The drive room was sterile, brightly lit, and cramped. Most of the room was taken up by the curved, ceramic drive housings with their meters and input terminals and warning labels. Heat exhaust and fuel intake pipes ran fore and aft overhead, or rammed themselves into the floor like pillars. Anybody who wanted to take him here would practically have to get up close enough to lay hands on him. If they get that close…Eric flexed his hands. There was some strength left. Some. It’d be enough. The Vitae were little creatures. Sorry, pale, flabby little creatures.

The Vitae were the Aunorante Sangh, no matter what name they had bestowed on the People.

Nameless Powers preserve and forgive. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. How could I know?

He’d led them to the Realm. To the Temples and the Kings. To his family. To Lady Fire.

I didn’t know. I didn’t know.

The compartment walls were thick, shielded, insulated and shielded again. He couldn’t hear anything. He raised his hand to his translator disk to hail the bridge, but stopped. The Vitae could trace that signal straight to him. He pressed himself into the corner. No way out from here, but only one way in. When they came for him, he would see them before they saw him. It was his only advantage. It would have to be enough.

I am Teacher Hand. I am dena Enemy of the Aunorante Sangh. They will know that. They will not forget that.

I will not forget it again.

I didn’t know. I didn’t know.

Metal and ceramic snapped over head. Eric pressed his back against the smooth wall. The hatch lifted away from the ceiling. Boots lowered themselves through the hatch and a human form, completely encased in a scarlet vacuum suit, dropped to the floor, landing steadily on both feet. Eric saw his own reflection in the blackened faceplate as it moved aside so its partner could drop down beside it. He faced them both. They could see him perfectly. He could tell by the way his distorted face shone on their visors. They both carried dart guns in their gloved hands, he noticed. Tranquilizers, probably, but maybe poison if they were done using him.

“I deny you. I defy you. I stand against you as the sun stands against the Black Wall.” Every Teacher knew the words of resistance. They were told the Aunorante Sangh might return at any time, maybe even before the Nameless did. He held his hands up so that his palms reflected in their faceplates and braced himself against the wall.

Nameless Powers, grant me strength to fight for you. Grant me strength to live up to the name you have given me.

The first one raised its gun and fired. The dart sliced through the air straight toward the hands Eric offered up as targets. Eric released his gift and it felt like a fist squeezed his heart. The dart touched his palm, and fell to the floor at his feet.

Got to stay standing. Can’t let them know what it cost me. I am their enemy. Can’t let them know.

Hurry Adu!

The second one fired. Then the first fired again. The darts clattered to the floor and Eric’s breath came out in ragged gasps. They knew now. How could they not know? He saw his own bulging eyes and gaping mouth in their visors. One more volley and he was gone.

He screamed like a madman and lunged for the first of them. His arms and legs were weak as water, but he still outmassed the Vitae. They toppled onto the deck together. The fall loosened the Vitae’s grip on its gun just enough. Eric tore it from its fingers as the Vitae shoved him aside. Eric squeezed the trigger and shot his target in the torso, only because there was no way to miss.

The Vitae dropped onto the deck plates and Eric looked wildly around for the other one. Nothing. No one. Then, the drone of the engines died away into silence. The Vitae stepped out from behind the second level drive.

Eric fired and dropped. The Vitae fired and then it fell with Eric’s dart in its arm. Eric felt the sting and the shock as the dart drove its tip into his shoulder blade. Arms, legs, torso were all gone in an instant and his eyesight left him before he hit the deck.

The Vitae maneuvered the support capsule out of the airlock. Adu sat frozen in place on the bridge, doing nothing but absorbing the information about the U-Kenai’s status through Cam’s eyes. The quarantine lock was gone, but not through his doing. The Vitae had reported that the source of the contamination had been removed. The station had downgraded the alert.

The airlock door closed with a rush of canned air. Adu still didn’t move. Eric Born was gone. There was nothing left to tell him how to act. He opened all the instructions he carried in his makeup and examined them all minutely. Nothing there. Nothing to tell him what to do if the Vitae carried Eric Born away.

The comm board flickered and shifted again. Adu read the new status. The U-Kenai, formerly owned and commanded by Eric Born was now officially salvage, with ship and contents to be claimed by the Rhudolant Vitae.

Ship and contents. Adu’s attention froze on the phrase. Him.

The instruction sets were very clear regarding the Vitae. Interaction with them, unless supervised by Eric Born, was to be strictly avoided.

Adu pushed the android body into action. The quarantine lock had been lifted and only the normal security precautions held the ship in place. He had already established access to the security database. With less than a dozen key changes, he overwrote the holding order.

A regulatory override cycle kicked into play from Cam and Adu squashed it. The docking clamps lifted back and the U-Kenai fell away from the station.

Adu rolled himself to one side and prodded the Cam program forward to take charge of the flight calculations. As a precaution, he settled himself at the gateway between Cam’s flight instructions and the regulatory overrides. It wasn’t long before the alarm bells began ringing. The Vitae had already detected his ruse. The signals activated a swarm of overrides and cutoffs in Cam’s programming that charged toward the gate. Adu sat like a stone wall between the security programming and the flight programming. Cam continued measuring, calculating, and planning in a smooth, unbroken chain. Eight kilometers from the station, he lit the U-Kenai’s first level drive and shoved the ship toward the vacuum at its top speed.

No ships approached them, although Adu was certain the Vitae would be tracking them. He tripped another switch in Cam’s programming and although they were still too close to the station and all the security overrides battered at him, Cam cut in the third level drive and the U-Kenai leapt into the empty realm past the light barrier.

The security cutoffs fell back and Adu was able to move again. He threaded his way around behind Cam and made the android’s hands work the comm boards. The beacon was on its way to Perivar. The U-Kenai could overtake it and scoop it up on the way, and then the whole ship could fly toward this Perivar, who Eric said could get an undetected signal to Dorias. He could tell Dorias what had happened. Dorias had given him his original instructions. Dorias would give him more and they would be correct and they would erase the lingering image of Eric Born being removed in the support capsule, the image that hung inside Adu and would not go away.