Janus Is A Two-Headed God

PROLOGUE

Since the beginning of time, the beings known only as "the Ancients" patrolled the universe. Where they came from -- no one knew. How many were their numbers -- also a mystery. What was their purpose?

Ah, on that question, some could venture a guess.

Some called them angels, backed by divine intervention. Others took a dim view of the Ancients' activities, cursing their unwelcome interference. Meddlers, mediators, spawns of the devil; the list was as endless as the boundaries of space.

The Ancients cared not for the accolades, nor the opprobrium of other lifeforms. They had a job to do, and one must admit, they did it well.

Entering the familiar star system with a speed that could only be imagined, She ignored Sol's outer planets and sought only the majestic orb of soft blue and white swirls. Her purpose was fixed and her concentration intense. The search did not take long.

Impatient as always, She did not wait for her slower companion. She hovered over the sparkling world, stopped her forward movement and looked down upon it. If She'd had lips, She would have smiled. As it was, She signaled her pleasure to her companion now gathering up his immense volume to join her.

"I always enjoy returning to the home planet. Nowhere in the cosmos is there as blissful and as comforting a sight as our dear Earth," She said.

"You must confess to bias," He relayed back at her, slightly miffed at her impulsiveness. "Earth was our first endeavor together as a unit."

He thinly spread his bodiless form above the exosphere -- the outer edges of the planet's atmosphere. His colorless expanse reached from pole to pole.

She interpreted the gesture as an embrace. Gratified, She mingled her molecules with his. "I confess nothing but the truth. The worlds our children have conquered are but poor substitutes for the diversity and beauty of this system."

Indeed, the solar system boasted many attractions. While not precisely unique the planets were spectacular in their magnificence. Mighty gaseous giants, ringed worlds of dazzling loveliness, and starkly barren slabs of rock. And of course, the jewel in the crown: planet Earth.

A sadness filled her. "How lamentable that those who now comprise the Galactic Core Coalition are unaware of what they had left behind. Mother Earth lies empty but for a few thousand Humans."

Puzzlement invaded his meditations. "Only thousands?" He concentrated on the cloud, ocean, and land globe beneath them. "You exaggerate. I sense a million or two."

"Paltry numbers when compared with the Core population!"

A small particle of space debris shot through her essence, only to burn up in the atmosphere below. "Even now I fear that our wandering seeds have lost their way in the vastness and the glory of the universe."

She pulsed with a brilliant white light so at odds with the black velvet backdrop of space. Stars were sparse in this curving arm of the spiral galaxy where Sol was located. Few suns and fewer people. Was it a coincidence that the bulk of Humanity now resided near the center of the galaxy, which blazed with a never-ending incandescence?

Compressing his celestial matter into a vaguely Human-shaped fist, He declared, "Indeed, that is the case. We must take steps --"

Although it was impossible for her to laugh, an amused cadence entered her thought patterns.

"Steps? Do you mean a bipedal walk?"

"Frivolous banter will not aid our children! By foul and heinous means the Uortzks are plotting to overpower the Coalition, which will in turn endanger the very existence of this galaxy. Although we cannot directly interfere, it is time for us to provide assistance. Else all we have nurtured these millennia will be for naught."

He was correct. How could She be merry when so much was at stake? She would make amends.

"Wait for me. I shall return."

Focusing down a golden portion of her being to Earth's surface, She scanned the diverse terrain. At first uncertain for whom or for what She searched, She persisted.

She felt heavy, but then again, She was heavy. The pull of Earth upon her infinitesimal mass disturbed the delicate balance of her atomic makeup. No matter. Her mission was urgent, the discomfort would be temporary.

The gleaming cities of steel and glass did not interest her. She passed over them. Instead, She sought out the wide open plains. Fields of farmlands rich with abundant crops greeted her senses. Dark, fertile soil radiating earthy aromas made her dizzy with the beneficence of nature.

Yes, this was it. She was close to what She desired now.

By a hillside the pure sweet notes of a lyre beckoned. She instantly recognized the ancient instrument. Swooping down, She was rewarded with the vision of a young woman plucking the lyre's strings. The Human's musical voice combined a song of the present with a melody from the past. The song spoke of needs long denied, of goals yet accomplished and of love unfulfilled.

Good. An appreciation for things long since gone and a desire to meld as a unit. Perhaps the female even possessed an understanding of history.

Pleased, She enfolded the young woman in her golden rays, showering the Human with affection. The quest was over. The galaxy's salvation would soon be at hand!

The female began to grow restive, unease filtered through the young body. The last thing She wanted to do was to alarm the Human. Quickly disengaging from the contact, She then spirited up to the farthest reaches of Earth's exosphere. The tedious gravity that had briefly tied her down was now joyfully absent. To celebrate, She whirled her being into a tumultuous cyclone.

Patient as always, He allowed her this joviality.

"Yes," She throbbed through whirlwind gyrations, "as is your habit, you are correct, my partner." She then joined with him in a blessed reunion. It was good to be as one again. "I agree that the Uortzks must be stopped. It is time we provided assistance."

CHAPTER ONE

"Martin Midway McLaren! Of all the crazy...Oh, what am I going to do with you?"

Mart had left home hours ago, so Sam really wasn't expecting an answer. She took one look at her feather-strewn kitchen, changed her mind about entering, then slammed the door on the mess. Not that her kitchen was usually spotless, but chickens running amuck? Mart, how could you?

Sam sank down on her haunches, leaned back against the closed door and exhaled slowly. Long, loose tendrils of hair danced around her face. Indecision stayed her movements.

Exasperation with her brother Mart flooded her emotions, but she quickly banished the unkind thoughts. The poor kid suffered from that awful condition. She could never remain angry with him for long. In fact, her initial irritation had already dissolved. Only curiosity remained. Why in blue blazes did he allow his two pet hens, feisty Cluck-Cluck and Henrietta, to literally rule the roost inside the house?

Sam glanced at her wristwatch: seven o'clock. Mart wasn't due to unicopter back home for another three hours. She'd have to wait for the answer to that puzzle.

Well, why put off the inevitable? She stood and brushed some travel dirt from her pants. The old saying went, "There was no rest for the weary." It fit her to a tee. After riding her antique bicycle eight miles to her tedious job at the unicopter factory, Sam was as weary as a one-dollar bill.

She grabbed the porch broom with which to shoo Cluck-Cluck and Henrietta back outside. Some days never seemed to end and today was destined to be one of them.

Lately, Mart seemed more restless than usual. Although he had just reached his twentieth year, because of his disease, he acted more like twelve -- on occasion. And Sam, only twenty-four, felt three times her years. Once in a while the responsibility of looking after him sat heavily on her shoulders. Like tonight. She couldn't blame him when he called her an old fogy. Most evenings all she wanted to do was relax -- maybe play the lyre or read.

But what other pastimes were available in this isolated part of Greater Missouri? Perhaps it was a matter of principle, but she refused to use the televiewer at all. Virtual reality devices made her sick, and even riding in unicopters caused bubbles in her stomach. Technological progress was not always a good thing. Just look at what had happened to their parents...

She sighed. "First things first. I might as well buckle down and get this cleaned." Anticipating the barnyard smell, she wrinkled her nose, opened the barricade and walked into the kitchen. A tiny white feather, once belonging to Cluck-Cluck, fluttered in the air to greet her. The feather was one of too many.

When Mart returned home tonight, he'd better have a darn good reason for taking the chickens in as boarders.

After finishing the Herculean task, Sam didn't have much longer to wait for Mart. To pass the time, she sat on the cement steps in front of her screened-in porch. It was moments like these that she truly appreciated the isolation from town. Only the loud buzzing of cicadas and crisp chirps from crickets kept her company. She never tired of hearing the insects' mysterious communication. Sam felt calm, at peace with herself and the world. Sweet smells of honeysuckle drifted over to her, soothing away her previous agitation.

Thankfully, men and their noisy mechanical toys were asleep. At this hour, nature took over to provide a moonlight symphony. The majestic blackness above demanded her attention, as it always did when the skies were clear. Inclining her head back, she gazed up at the star-sprinkled night. Amazing how the constellations of today in the year 2452 were the same as long ago -- the same as the ones viewed by the people she longed to learn more about: the Greeks and the Romans.

So much had changed since then, while so much remained the same.

A repetitive clamor disturbed the natural quiet. As it grew closer a sudden hurricane whipped the air into a frenzy. Displaced clumps of loose rich soil flew at her. Her long hair flapped wildly about her face and she shielded her eyes from the dirt.

The whirl of engines abruptly stopped. Mart had landed -- out in the fields past their house.

"He remembered!" At long last he finally respected her wishes to set down his unicopter away from the hen house. That was a good sign. Maybe he'd had a day free from any "occurrences."

Peering into the night, she searched for him, but the inky darkness refused to reveal his form. Mart's voice traveled far and arrived before he did. But he wasn't talking to her. Was he speaking to himself?

The strange thing was, she thought she heard someone's reply.

"Mart?" An uneasiness chilled Sam's backbone. "Mart, is that you?" Another realization of just how isolated she was returned. This time, though, she wasn't thanking her lucky stars.

Just then, Mart came into view. But as she was about to give a sigh of relief, someone else also appeared. Someone who, for some reason, set her teeth on edge.

She gulped down hard. Good heavens, this is the same weird feeling I had three weeks ago when --

"I knew Sam would be sittin' up, waitin' for me. Didn't I tell you? She always treats me like I'm a kid." Mart tried to disguise his youth by deepening his voice.

Mart's companion nodded. Sam could see him distinctly now. The man was a lot older, maybe forty-five or so. Short too, his height only reached two thirds of the way up Mart's gangly six foot two inches. But the stranger's large chest barreled out of proportion to his spindly body. His silver thatch of hair matched the sheen on his form- fitting clothes. Again, that shouldn't have raised red flags. However, his eyes were completely hidden by a dark shield, surrounding his sockets and giving him a bug-eyed look.

Why wear sun visors in the middle of the night? How could the man see?

Sam grabbed onto the railing and pulled herself up. Just who did Mart bring home on this previously uneventful summer night?

Mart, as usual, had no idea of the frayed state of her nerves. His excitement caused his movements to seem even jumpier than normal.

"Sam, this is cosmic! I know you don't follow the viewer-reports, but hold onto your hat. This news is gonna pierce your ears!"

With obvious disbelief, he turned to the man. "Sam's gotta be the only one in the world who doesn't know about you --"

"Sam?" the man questioned.

The eerie, high pitch of his voice caused her to bite her lip inadvertently. Although she couldn't be certain, she had the impression that he scrutinized every last inch of her...and she wasn't dressed for receiving company. Her flexi-pants were still splattered with dirt and her top bore the wrinkles and creases of the day. Embarrassed, she flushed hotly.

"Sam," the man repeated. "Ach, nae. A male name dinna do justice to such a lass."

He reminded her of a spider -- all arms, legs and chest. And a Scottish spider to boot. She took a step up the stairs.

Nodding rapidly, Mart's spiky hair bobbed in the breeze. "By the comets! How did you know? Her name's Sophia, actually. Sophia Audrey McLaren -- Sam. Isn't my friend somethin', Sam?"

She frowned. Why did Mart have to reveal personal information? The name Sam suited her -- down to Earth, pragmatic and dependable. Sophia was...whimsical.

Yes, your friend is something, she silently agreed. But just what exactly is he?

The man held out his hand. "Sophia. Aye. I'll call the young lass, Sophia. I go by Fredd...Fredd Desilva."

He spelled his name, but after he finished, his hand was still outstretched.

As gingerly as she could, she extended her own hand. At the contact, she looked down at his fingers. The thumb was normal -- short and squatty as everyone's was. But his four fingers were elongated. Close to double the appropriate length.

Even the feel of his rough, callused skin made her own skin tingle in warning. She shivered in the warm, night air.

Oh dear heavens! This man, this Fredd, isn't quite normal. Where on Earth did he come from? He couldn't possibly be an honest to goodness...alien, could he?

The occurrence of aliens visiting the solar system was extremely rare -- even today. But none of the ones she'd read about looked like Fredd.

Once the great migration from Earth ended in 2105, little interaction between the two Human groups had taken place. Part of the non-communication was due to the distances involved. About 30,000 light years separated Earth from the center of the Milky Way galaxy. That was where the Galactic Core Coalition, an alliance between Humans and other life forms, had come into being over three hundred years ago.

Of course, thanks to modern technology and those dangerous wormholes, or "tunnels through space," transmissions could be achieved in a couple of weeks. Quite an accomplishment, really. But at least on the migrators' part, absence from Earth did not make the heart grow fonder. Communiqués had grown fewer and fewer until the Galactic Core Coalition, or the GCC, had become a myth in the minds of most Earthers.

For Sam it did, anyway. After her parents' death en route to a vacation on the moon, Sam wanted nothing to do with techno-babble in any way shape or form. Mart, however, thrived on the stuff.

But here she was, forgetting her manners. "N...Nice to meet you, Fredd. Why don't we go inside?"

By the time the three of them clattered up the steps into the newly cleaned kitchen, Sam had composed herself a tiny bit. She washed her hands, then turned from the sink to look at Mart and the stranger seated at the table. Right now the man seemed normal enough.

"Er, Fredd, would you like something to drink?"

He smiled -- a nice, friendly smile. He still wore his sun visors, though. Hard to get to know a person if his eyes were hidden.

"With appreciation, Sophia, I hunger fer fruit."

Mart leaped up from the table and headed for the pantry. "Certainly, we have a ton of apples 'n whatever. Sam, why don't you sit? I'll get the coffee."

Taking him up on his offer, she let him be the host. It was good to see him behave as an adult. Just as it was good for him to remain calm. Extreme excitement was what triggered the "attacks."

He poured three cups of coffee, meticulously stirred each one, and set the mugs down, along with a plate filled with various kinds of fruit.

Sam curved her fingers around the steaming coffee mug. She'd really let her imagination work overtime concerning Fredd. Up close, his uniformly silver hair didn't seem odd, especially considering the lined and leathery skin on his face. And his fingers weren't that long, and his chest didn't puff out so much. Only the visors were out of place, but then again, maybe he was an eccentric.

He studied the dish, then picked up a banana by its stem. "The name fer this?"

Mart laughed, causing his freckles to echo his excitement. "Oh, cosmic! That's a banana, Fredd."

Sam held her tongue. Mart wouldn't take kindly to her warning him not to get keyed up.

The older man nodded. "Ba...nan...a," he said, almost lovingly. "I've heard of Terran bananas."

The banana disappeared as if he had inhaled it. "'Tis nectar of the gods," Fredd said, smacking his thin lips.

Fredd's words sank in. Terra was another name for Earth. Heavens, he must be an alien!

She sipped her drink to collect herself. So what if he was? He didn't look so different and she sure didn't want to add the word "xenophobe" to her list of accomplishments.

Tonight was a night of oddities. Even the coffee had a peculiar taste.

Mart slapped her on the back, spilling some of the mocha liquid onto her sleeve. "Yeah, you've figured it out, Sam! Fredd's a genuine visitor from the Core. Can you believe it? Ever since he put down at Luna Landin', the news has been blarin' over the televiewer, but you never look at it. In fact, I'm surprised there weren't any snoopin' reporters waitin' for us when we touched down."

Her brother ran his hand over his head, spiking up the brown hair even further. "No matter. I guess that's why I was so excited this mornin'. When I left the back door open, the chickens scooted in, then I forgot to let the little devils out. Maybe they didn't cause too much of a mess, huh? Sorry, Sam."

"That's okay." Good thing she'd decided to let her talk about responsibility go the way of the wind. Apologizing for his actions was a maturing step for Mart. Even though she always professed to prefer the old ways, she had to admit Fredd was beginning to fascinate her. So this was what visitors from the Core looked like.

"Martin," the man said in his distinctly squeaky voice, "as we previously discussed, I need to speak with yer sibling -- in private."

Sam sat up straight. She wasn't that fascinated! "Er, Mart, I --"

"Don't waste any electrons on it, Sam. Fredd's gotta proposition for you. Somethin' that concerns me 'n maybe you, if you want. Promise me you'll hear him out."

She drummed her fingernails against the table's plastic top. Darn the boy. What was he up to? Making deals with...with someone from outside the solar system! But whatever was it about?

You'll never know unless you let the man explain. True. Curiosity won out.

"Okay, but whatever it is, I'm not in the market for other worldly real estate!"

Mart chuckled. "See, Fredd, I told you she has a sense of humor."

Sam finished the rest of her coffee. Definitely something strange here. Mart never sang her praises to anyone.

An awkward pause indicated that Fredd was waiting for Mart to leave. He complied. "Well, I'll be right outside."

The door closed, then Fredd tapped his elongated fingers together, making a pyramid shape. "Martin told me about you, Sophia."

She raised an eyebrow. "Not much to tell."

"Nae, I disagree. You shine beautifully inside and out. This I know. In truth, our meeting dinna come by chance. Fate played a hand."

He leaned across the table, which sent her scooting back in her chair. "You haven't formed an attachment, now have you, lass? I understand you remain legally and emotionally free."

Her mouth dropped. Fate played a hand? Emotionally free as in her love life? Fredd's proposition concerned...marriage? Or whatever the GCC called mating between the sexes. Yikes! She couldn't sit still on that one. Standing, she paced the kitchen's pseudo-marble slated floor.

"Er, Fredd, I really don't know what you're talking about. No matter what my brother told you, matrimony here on Earth isn't something to enter into lightly."

That was certainly true. Ever since she'd turned eighteen she had avoided getting married for one reason or another. Like her commitment to take care of Mart. Anyway, she'd never fallen in love. Ever. Not puppy-love nor the star-crossed lovers type.

She re-cleaned the counter, then the table -- movements to rid herself of her anxiety. "Why would you be interested in marriage?"

Fredd placed his hand atop hers, perhaps to stop her activity. "Nae, nae, not marriage. I just talk. Sophia, you have commendable qualities so rarely found in all the known worlds. Aye, I learned of yer existence even before I left my home. Everything rings true that I heard. Yer internal fires burn deeply and yer long dark hair with ebony eyes bespeak a spirited passion."

"Pardon me?" Beads of perspiration popped up on Sam's lip. She removed her hand from under his, then backed away. If he wasn't talking about marriage, then what?

He smiled again. "No cause for alarm, Sophia. You must pardon me. Let's speak about yer sibling. He has Beta-Siwinski Disease, aye?"

She nodded.

Fredd also stood. His silver head was in no danger of touching the plaster ceiling. "The cure remains elusive fer Terrans, however the Core's main world, Xaspaar, has an antidote fer this condition. With it, Martin can regain his wholeness."

A cure? A cure for Mart? The sun suddenly burst into this long, eternal night. Never again would Mart's senses become overloaded. Never again would his brain essentially shut down, stopping all non-basic functions. For once and for all, he wouldn't lose the ability to speak, move, and see.

This was the most joyous of nights! Tears rushed to her eyes while her heart hammered against the sides of her ribs.

"Fredd, you can make him well? You can cure Beta-Siwinski Disease? Oh, I would be forever grateful! I --"

"On Xaspaar, lass. Martin must return with me to Xaspaar."

It was as if everything came to a crashing halt. In a mid-air, her arm remained frozen. Her eyes refused to blink. All motion ceased as a freeze frame in an ancient cinema production.

"Oh, my heavens." Somehow, she found the words, easing them out in a slow, steady stream. "For Mart to be cured, he has to go...to go with you to the center of the galaxy?"

"Aye."

Fredd might as well have said to go into the realm of angels. The center of the galaxy -- what a fantastical notion. Of course for him, the trip was routine. But for Mart...

She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you offering to do this, Fredd?" In less polite words what she meant was, what was in it for him? What was the price?

He spread out his misshapen hands. "I dinna have the persuasive ways of the Yeamonl to explain. However, facts never lie. My travels led me to Terra in search of..." He shrugged. "'Tis no matter. Mere chance introduced me to yer sibling. Nae, not mere chance but fate. Fate decrees that I assist Martin. I know this as I know my own heart."

Fredd placed the palm of his hand over the left side of his barrel chest.

At least his heart was in the same place as hers, but the identity of the Yeamonl would remain a mystery. Sam had other things on her mind.

"Would you consider accompanying us, Sophia?"

Flattery aside, she was getting a little miffed. "Sorry to disappoint you, Fredd, but I haven't given my permission for Mart to go with you. And as for me, I like my feet planted on terra firma, no pun intended. We barely even know you. How can I allow my brother to traipse across space to a big question mark in the sky?"

The more she thought about the offer, the more outrageous it sounded. How could she take this man's word that there was indeed a cure for Beta-Siwinski Disease? She stiffened her back. It was much too risky.

The man laughed, which threw her for a loop. His pitch was so high, she worried about the window panes breaking.

"Sophia, your sibling already said aye. I dinna mean this unkindly, but he dinna require your permission. We leave tomorrow."

Tomorrow? No. No. Fuzzy white dots rapidly appeared before her eyes. She had to sit. If she didn't, she'd faint. Ever since their parents' death eight years ago, she'd been taking care of Mart. She couldn't lose him -- not now. What else was there to live for?

But what if Fredd is telling the truth? Maybe Mart can be cured.

She yawned -- a completely inappropriate response. "Excuse me, Fredd. I don't know what to do. This is so...sudden."

And unusual, bizarre, ludicrous -- the list of objections was endless.

Walking over to the window, he looked out at the starry night. "In many cases opportunity knocks only once. You must trust me, Sophia. Yer sibling does. And we both desire fer you to accompany us, however the choice remains yours."

"If I go...if...there'd be arrangements to make. I'd have to notify Mart's professors, give notice at my job, find homes for the chickens. Things like that. A day isn't long enough to prepare for such a major...upheaval."

"The last shuttle to Luna Landing departs at five in the evening. You would have until then." Fredd's face betrayed nothing of what he was thinking. Only the eyes could reveal inner revelations.

Her shoulders slumped. "Well, it's almost twelve midnight, and I'm extremely tired. You'll have to forgive me if I go to bed. I'll give you my answer in the morning."

None of this was real. None of this was happening. Either way, she would lose. Either Mart would be gone for who knew how long, or she'd be uprooted in the worst possible manner. She'd have to say good-bye to everything familiar and journey into the unknown.

She shivered. "Did Mart invite you to spend the night, or is he taking you back...to your hotel?" Or wherever it was that Fredd stayed.

"An invitation here, with yer permission, Sophia."

Sophia. She was beginning to hate the sound of her own name. "Fine, then. I'll let Mart show you to the spare room. Good-night."

After yawning again, she hurried out to the porch. Mart was waiting for her, the light of the moon bouncing off his hair.

Dear, dear Mart. Tears puddled in her eyes. She swallowed her emotion. "Martin, I'm turning in for the night. Why don't you make sure that your guest is comfortable?"

Without words, Mart's widened brown eyes demanded to know what had transpired. Or more specifically, what her response had been.

She hugged him tightly, blinking back the tears. "I...I just can't decide tonight. It's too...too frightening."

Mart submitted to her squeeze and awkwardly patted her on the back. "I understand, Sam. But it's a chance for me to be normal. I have to go."

She swiped her eyes. "Yes, well, I guess I'd better get to bed." Although there was no way that she could sleep, not with this quandary heavy on her mind.

Her tears refused to dry. Not wanting Mart to see, she murmured, "G'Night," then rushed off to her bedroom. She pulled off her clothes and slithered underneath the cool sheets of her comfortable bed. Safe, but only temporarily. Tomorrow was destined to bring big unwelcome changes. And there was nothing she could do about it. Her life here was about to become detached from her as cleanly as if seared by a laser.

Of course she would accompany Mart. She'd known that as soon as Fredd mentioned that there was a cure. Yawning again, she closed her eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless and unexpected sleep.

CHAPTER TWO

In deep space it is said even the dead feel cold. She could appreciate the sentiment. Cold was not a condition She relished. Contracting her mass into a small sphere, She increased the speed of her molecules.

As the subatomic particles rubbed, then collided with each other, a comforting warmth invaded her essence. Satisfied, she ceased the frenetic motion. All too soon the frigid cold returned.

"I cannot understand why you wish to follow the ship's progress," She complained to her partner. "Stopping between planetary systems just to monitor the Humans' journey! This is a waste of resources. Everything is on schedule. There can be no cause for concern."

In the endless darkness, He encircled her being with his own. This mingling of matter produced a blessed wave of heat.

"Patience, my own one, this mission is too important to leave to chance. While Desilva is a competent navigator the vortex tunnels known to Humans as black holes or wormholes, are capricious. A slight energy flux can alter the destination causing disastrous consequences."

She viewed the nearby wormhole with askance. Instead of being black, it pulsed and throbbed with living color: vibrant reds, jarring oranges, and dazzling blues. Slithering, slimy, and palpitating. She was grateful She did not have to rely on such a device to travel the length of the galaxies.

"I have faith in Desilva," She communicated. "After all, we chose him for this endeavor."

"True. However, you are forgetting the resourcefulness of the Uortzks. Even now they might have some inkling about the true nature of Desilva's excursion. A pleasure cruise does not fit Desilva's profile. He is not a man to indulge in meaningless sightseeing. And he does hold the ear of the mighty JorVaal."

To show her displeasure, She performed a wide-edged swoop, taking care to avoid the radiation emanating from the wormhole. "Nonsense. Even Desilva is not fully aware of his purpose. And you speak of JorVaal as if he were divine. He is only a Human, subject to the same foibles and follies as the rest of them."

"JorVaal is a wise leader," He reprimanded her. "Billions in the Core revere him. No one -- Human, altered, or alien -- commands the allegiance of so many."

She bubbled her reply. "Exactly so, my partner. But who commands his love? That is why we arranged for young Ms. McLaren to supply what JorVaal lacks."

He stiffened his immense volume. "Indeed? I was under the impression we are interfering in order to halt the Uortzks' treachery."

"And that, also."

Sensing a disturbance in the space-time continuum, She paused to identify it. "It is the ship! They are about to enter the wormhole."

Floating at a distance of two parsecs, both She and He watched the ship approach the tunnel. With a sound not audible to Human ears, the wormhole greedily sucked up the gleaming spacecraft. In less than a second, it was gone, leaving only the void of interstellar dust. Later, in a timeframe much too tiny to mention, the ship would reappear in another part of the galaxy, shot out of the bowels of a white hole.

She vibrated her unease. "They are all right inside, are they not?"

He shot forth a thin beam of his essence to find out. "Yes," He replied. "Everyone is fine except Ms. McLaren. She is about to...lose her last meal."

There wasn't much She could do to alleviate the Human female's condition. "I grieve for her discomfort, however Ms. McLaren shall have to get over that propensity of hers. I believe there are five additional wormholes left for her to traverse before the journey concludes at Xaspaar."

Sam straightened up from bending over the small metallic sink. After heaving for the past hour, there shouldn't have been anything left in her stomach to eject. Shouldn't, but yet her body still kept upchucking more of her insides. She felt positively green. Enough was enough. Gritting her teeth, she dry-vacuumed the sink's bowl, then turned her back on its now-pristine state. Although the ship's low gravity was what initially caused her nausea, she should have been grateful for it. If they'd been totally weightless, she would have had a doozy of a mess to clean up -- floating globules of breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

She'd never left Greater Missouri before and now here she was, zillions of miles from Earth and the solar system, heading straight for the center of the galaxy. When she did things, she did them in a big way, didn't she?

Traveling through normal space had been difficult enough, but this wormhole experience was fifty times worse. Maybe she should just lie down, give up the ghost, and wait for angels to claim her spirit.

Why, oh why did she leave the sweet confines of mother Earth?

Of course, she knew the answer to that. And, speaking of Mart, she'd better check on him to see how he fared under the gut-wrenching pull of the wormhole. Fortunately, she could tell they'd passed through and exited. The ship didn't vibrate as before.

Sam shut the door on the tiny "facility" room and headed for the command area. Now that her stomach was light the low gravity gave a bounce to her walk. It wasn't unpleasant; in fact, she felt rather graceful.

She smiled. Hopefully, she wouldn't spend all of her time in the closet-sized "facility" room.

The ship's corridor widened into a spoon shape encompassing the command area. Miniature devices covered the sides and ceiling of the room. They beeped and blinked, fighting for her attention. Even the floor contained complex switches. But then, when the gravity equalizer was turned off, who could say which was the floor and which was the ceiling?

With his back to her, Fredd was obviously busy with the equipment, checking a viewer here, flipping a lever there. But it was so dark that only the lights from the instrumentation panel illuminated the compartment. She squinted her eyes for a better focus. How on Earth could he see clearly?

Mart was nowhere in sight. Maybe she should ask --

"Sophia."

Still fussing with his gadgets, Fredd's voice called to her. But how did he know that she stood waiting in the corridor?

"Come. Enter, lass. I hope you suffered no ill effects from the wormhole."

Nothing but a permanent hollowed out feeling. She bit back her unkind comment. "No, I'm fine, Fredd."

"Good. Wormhole 354Q399 in Sector M.42 troubles even the most seasoned of travelers."

Perhaps then, she wasn't such a rookie after all. She stepped into the crowded console area. A pungent, irritating odor drifted towards her and she sniffed to identify it.

"Ozone," Fredd stated, again knowing her movements without looking at her. "Exposure to ultraviolet radiation turns some of our oxygen to ozone. Dinna worry, I will increase power to the filter and get rid of the gas."

Soon the disagreeable scent was replaced by a cool breeze containing a slightly metallic smell -- recycled air.

"Thanks, Fredd. Um, I don't see Mart. Is he okay?"

"Yer sibling slept through the worst part of the turbulence. Martin rests against the compiler-tubes."

Once pointed in the right direction, Sam spotted him easily. In the darkness, his normally tan face seemed deathly pale and his head was cocked back at an unnatural angle.

She knelt by his side, her cabin suit crinkling in protest. "Mart?"

He didn't answer, so she roughly shook his shoulder. "Mart, oh, do get up!"

His left eye cracked open. "Keep your hat on, Sam. Let a guy wake up peacefully, why don't you?"

She sank back on her heels. Mart was right; she did worry about him too much. But from his rigid expression, lack of movement, and sheen of perspiration, he might have been in the unresponsive throes of a Beta-Siwinski attack. Then again, he just might have been sleeping.

"Sorry, Mart. I guess you passed through the wormhole with flying colors. Am I glad that's over with."

Fredd's sharp voice echoed back to the compiler-tubes. "With regret, I must tell you, Sophia. We need to travel through more holes."

Even Mart's face paled further. "Slugs! How many more, Fredd?"

"Five."

Sam swallowed a bit of bile. "I think I'll be spending the rest of the time over the sink."

"Not if I beat you to it." Mart slowly got to his feet, then massaged his neck. His rapid breathing pronounced to all who knew him that those simple actions took quite an effort.

She stood. "You did have an episode, didn't you?"

His dark eyes regained their fire. "Episode? Call it what it is, Sam. I turned into a damned corpse for a while. So what's the big deal? I'm used to it." He stomped over to his supply bag. "Hey, I'm gonna make some valerian tea. Helps me sleep naturally. Want some, Fredd?"

"I thank you, but no, lad. While navigating near the holes, I must refrain from using sedatives of any kind." Fredd peered into a viewer, then clicked on one of the instruments.

"Sam, you?"

"No, Mart. You know I don't care for the taste."

Pouring the ground herb into a drinking bottle, he smirked. "You drank it all last night, without one murmur. When I looked in on you, you were sleepin' like a baby."

Words caught in her throat. So that was why the coffee had tasted peculiar. "You had no right, Martin McLaren. Why on Earth --"

"Precisely that, sister dear. I knew you were gonna leave Earth to accompany me. Just as I knew you would have anxiously tossed 'n turned all night. Admit it, how do you think you would be feelin' right now without a good night's sleep?"

He had a point. She begrudgingly thanked him. How unusual for Mart to consider her needs.

"Well, don't waste any brain cells on it. I figured Fredd has enough on his hands without havin' to listen to crabby Earthers."

Mart's gruff logic didn't fool her. The sting of a tear made her blink.

He switched off the hot water spigot. "Maybe it's time that we both grew up."

She looked at her brother in a new light. "Maybe I will have a cup of that wretched stuff after all."

Fumbling around the water container, she searched for a bottle and straw. "Fredd, do you have another --"

Just as she noticed that he wasn't wearing his sun visors, he turned around and she saw exactly what his dark shields had been hiding. His eyes were...blue. Brilliantly bright, sapphire blue. All blue, except for the pupil. Fredd had no whites of the eye to speak of.

What manner of man was he?

"Here's a water bottle, Sam." Mart handed her the thing.

She quickly transferred her gaze to it, embarrassed that she'd been staring.

Fredd reached over and pressed his hand down on her shoulder. "Sophia, please, dinna feel afraid. Allow me to explain my differences."

Try as she might, she couldn't look into his extraordinary eyes. "I'm not afraid, only a bit confused."

"Genetic engineering created my ancestors, lass. Nary a complete redesign, as in pantropy, but some basic tinkering in order fer Humans to survive my home world, Alvitar. Most of my people live underground, mining precious minerals. As Genetically Altered Humans or GAHs, Alvitans have modified eyes and increased lung capacity -- four lungs instead of two."

About two hundred years ago, the world congress passed legislation that banned genetic engineering on Humans. "Too much like playing God" was the general sentiment. Evidently, the Humans in the Core Coalition felt differently.

Fredd fluttered his elongated fingers. "Also, an unpredicted side effect -- our singular hands. You see, some of our genes come from bats."

A primordial fear wrapped its unhealthy tendrils around the rational part of Sam's mind. Bats. Sharp canine-toothed vampire bats. She sucked down the bitter herbal tea; she needed something to restore her sanity.

Mart slapped her on the back, but unlike yesterday, the liquid couldn't splash out to wet her cabin suit. "Isn't that cosmic, Sam? Not the kind you're thinkin' of, though -- Fredd's part vegetarian bat, of the suborder megachiroptera."

Fredd grinned. "Our myths tell us about Terran fruits. Our bat relatives especially like bananas."

"Yeah, in this case the myth turns out to be true. Sam here knows about myths. She prefers the company of moldy books, especially books on ancient Romans. Person to person interaction leaves her cold."

"There's a lot to be said for the Roman culture, Mart," she defended hotly. Why did she feel the need to do so? "Many of their architectural achievements are still standing today. Their plays form the backbone of modern theater. I could go on and on --"

"Please, you're borin' Fredd 'n me." Mart slung his supply bag over his shoulder. "You spend too much time with your nose buried in books. Tell Fredd what you told me about golden rays pourin' over you. You remember, you compared it to the myth where the god Jupiter in the form of golden rain visited the maiden, who was it -- Danaë? -- to impregnate her!"

Mart hid his laugh behind his hand. "Fredd, I swear, Sam was serious!"

The damage done, Mart made his retreat. "I have to go check on...somethin'. Be right back."

"Take forever," Sam mumbled. If only she could hide in a corner and lose herself in one of the books Mart complained about.

"You had a strange experience, lass?"

Fredd's unblinking gaze was unnerving. This whole experience was unnerving. But like it or not, she'd signed on for the duration. She couldn't change her mind and say, "Let me off at the next stop, please." No, she might as well sit back and enjoy the ride. Her stomach protested its empty state. Perhaps endure was a more accurate word than enjoy.

"Lass?"

"Well, Mart's referring to a strange feeling I had about three weeks ago. It was nighttime and I was alone on a hillside, playing my lyre." She stopped. Did he know what a lyre was?

"The musical instrument, aye. Go on."

Uncanny how he seemed to read her mind at times. "Suddenly, a glimmering haze covered me. I felt warmth, approval, and, well, love. It reminded me of the old story of Persus, the ancient hero and how he'd been conceived. You know, the golden rain. It was so uncanny, I had to tell my brother about it. Of course, he laughed then, as he does now."

Before Fredd wondered whether there was a further connection, she clarified, "I'm not, um, pregnant or anything. It just was sort of spooky for me. I'm about as down to Earth as a person can get."

In the figurative sense. Literally, who knew how far her feet strayed from home sweet home?

To her surprise, Fredd didn't find her experience amusing. He scratched at his pure silver hair that now reflected back rainbow colors from the panel lights. "Three weeks ago. Interesting. Almost three weeks ago I had an unexpected urge to tour the galaxy." He shrugged his bony shoulders. "True, I dinna behave as the typical Alvitan does since my current home lies above ground, off-world."

Her confused expression must have been easily read, for he continued, "I have ambassador status on Xaspaar, the Core's main planet, you see. Also, I serve as deputy to one of the GCC's leaders, the mighty JorVaal." Fredd laughed. "Quite an irresponsible and irregular action fer me to embark on this journey. Plus, I had no specific guidance as to where I was going, yet somehow I ended up at Luna Landing. Fate then guided me to yer sibling...and you." He held her with his gaze. "A possible coincidence between the two events?"

"No. They're completely unrelated. Besides, I could have imagined the sensation."

Denying the incident was easier to digest than believing some unknown hand of destiny linked two extreme locations of the galaxy, bending personal will against a cosmic degree.

Definitely eerie!

Fredd turned back to the console. "As you wish, lass. We have fifteen of yer Terran days remaining to the trip. I suggest you study the viewer to learn the ways of Core civilization. It will go easier on you if you do."

"Yes, thank you, Fredd. That's a great idea."

"You might find some of the information disagreeable. Fer example, you must cut the flowing cascade of yer rich, dark hair."

"I must?" She fingered a lock and curled it around her finger. "And why is that?" At times Fredd spoke so poetically.

"No one, male or female, wears hair below the base of the neck on Xaspaar. Long hair represents the barbarous past -- a symbol of more sensuous, less disciplined times. If you refuse to cut yer hair, once we land, you must expect confinement with other criminal violators."

Oh great, she was a criminal now? And over what, the length of her hair? Incredible.

Fredd spread his hands. "My regrets, Sophia."

"Don't worry about it. Maybe I'll just stay inside the ship."

She furiously cleaned out the water bottle and slammed it down. Just what kind of society equated someone's hairdo with theft or murder? Or perhaps those activities were tolerated?

"Well, it seems I have a great deal of viewing to do. See you later, Fredd."

With a rush, she strode back into the narrow corridor. The force of her movement caused her to bounce off one wall into the other.

That certainly was a dignified exit. Sam straightened her posture then continued down the hallway. She didn't know much about this Galactic Core Coalition, but she did know one thing. Deep down on a gut level, she didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit.

Mart quickly plowed through the corridor, paused at one of the many exit shafts littered throughout the ship, then looked over his shoulder. Good. No one was tailing him. Hoisting himself inside, he followed a downward path. After a few paces, he turned left into another darkened tunnel, then an immediate right, down two levels, then left again.

An outside observer would have believed Mart to be born to this vessel, so automatic were his actions in maneuvering around the labyrinth. Not so, he'd only traveled the way once before, but once was enough. Blessed, or cursed with a photographic memory, he had glanced at the engineering specs before boarding and was now completely familiar with the ins and outs of the ship.

When he reached his goal, the energy converter chamber, Mart flipped on the control unit, ordering, "Lights, dimmed."

Immediately, low voltage lights flooded the area. He rushed over to a wooden carton nestled between the energy conduits. In the background the fusion reactor hummed and throbbed, powerful yet barely restrained.

No other noise disturbed the ship's inner workings. Mart ran his hand over his spiky hair. "Geez, I hope they're okay. That wormhole put out one rough ride! What am I gonna do if --"

He couldn't stand the suspense. On his knees, he released the catch on the carton, then lifted the top off. Inside were two motionless chickens, lying limp against each other.

Mart sat Indian-style and picked up Henrietta. "C'mon, girl, you gotta come through for me. C'mon, give me what for. Let me know just how pissed off you are!"

The chicken remained slack. He stroked her soft, warm feathers. "Hey, you don't have Beta-Siwinski Disease! Those vibrations weren't that bad."

As if appreciating his joke, Henrietta's fleshy crest wobbled and she cocked her little head at him.

"Attagirl! I knew I could count on you. Now you, Cluck, how about a nice treat?"

He lifted the other chicken and set her down on his lap. "Girls, just look at this alfalfa meat 'n soybean meal I have for you."

With a quick flick of the wrist, Mart reached inside his supply bag, then covered a portion of the metallic floor with poultry feed. The chickens, now both alert, clucked and scrambled down to the food.

He threw down another handful of soybean meal. "There's plenty more where this came from. You girls can peck to your heart's content."

Satisfied that his chickens were okay, at least for now, he leaned against the energy conduit and sighed. Five more wormholes to look forward to. Geez.

Henrietta and Cluck-Cluck weren't the only girls he had to worry about. Sam had also looked about as healthy as the underside of a rock. Although he would razz her, the poor kid would fuss and bother about him instead of taking care of herself.

Suddenly a revelation burst inside him. Now revved up for action, he cleaned out the chicken waste from the carton. He was the reason Sam slaved away at that unicopter factory instead of pursuing her own interests. He knew she hated the work, though she'd never admit it. Not enough money in the Humanities, she would say to explain her decision.

She was always anxious about money. Great slugs, their parents' insurance had left them sitting pretty, didn't it? Didn't it? Maybe not. Funny time for him to ask questions. Why had he been so complacent before?

"I messed up, girls. Sam's chewin' on her nails over finances, while I sit fat 'n ignorant. Fine brother I've been."

He scooped up the chickens and placed them back inside the container. "Gotta go, luvs. If I know Sam, she's searchin' for me even now. It wouldn't do for her or Fredd to discover our little secret, but I couldn't leave you behind, now could I?"

Henrietta and Cluck-Cluck objected to their imprisonment but they'd get over it. Mart fondly patted the box. "Hey, if they found out, they might insist we have chicken almondine for dinner instead of that tasteless pap Fredd serves."

Mart fumbled with the control unit, then commanded, "Lights, off." Immediately, the energy converter chamber was blanketed in darkness. "Girls, I'll visit after the next wormhole, promise."

Mission accomplished, he made his way through the maze back to the main corridor. As he did, he kept his fingers crossed. If miracles did happen, if he really could be cured of his affliction, then he'd make another promise. He'd promise God above that he'd somehow make good on all the years Sam had worried over him, taken care of him.

He tugged on a clump of his hair. Miracles did happen; he knew that for a fact. Just yesterday, he had studied quantum mechanics and astro-engineering; tedious subjects that he understood better than his professors. Today he was spiraling toward the center of the galaxy, headed for the Galactic Core Coalition and the fabled planet Xaspaar. Who could say what fantastic opportunities awaited him...and Sam?

His sister was an uncommon beauty; he always gave her a hard time, but she was one okay gal. No one measured up to his Sam. She deserved a life of ease, free from everyday anxieties, such as how far could she stretch her meager paycheck?

Mart smiled grimly. When he was whole again, nothing would get in his way. He'd stop at nothing to make sure that Sam had the chance to shine as she was meant to.

CHAPTER THREE

The year 2452 saw the Galactic Core Coalition -- the GCC -- expand to include fifteen distinct life entities, populating over three billion worlds. Of these fifteen members, Humankind was the most prolific and popular...much to the annoyance of the Uortzks, an older, more advanced race indigenous to the Milky Way Core.

When these Terrans, hailing from the spiral arm of the galaxy, first arrived, the Uortzks ignored the young upstarts. They continued about their business, intimidating the inhabited worlds of their stellar neighborhood.

This was their first mistake.

It was the Humans who organized the GCC with its philosophy based upon mutual need and respect. They instituted fair-minded policies and regulations to determine standards of conduct. "Govern, Communicate, and Cooperate" became the GCC's motto.

This emphasis on tolerance and partnership further enraged the Uortzks, whose previous despotic rule chaffed the other alien members. In protest of Terran intrusion, the Uortzks boycotted the first Coalition Council meeting.

That was their second mistake.

As a result, the Uortzks lost their position as galactic leaders, relegating the post to Humankind. For over two hundred years this secondary status rankled them.

The Uortzks were proud, analytical beings. But desperation has always been known to cloud even the most logical minds. Regretfully, they were on their way to making their third and final mistake.

In the great Council chamber on the Core's main world of Xaspaar, JorVaal 5 Lanquist rested his elbow on the plastic polymer table and cupped his chin in his hand. Bored, he let his attention wander. Filled with representatives from most of the galaxy's member civilizations the chamber buzzed with discordant sounds from vocal cords, breathing apparatuses, and various vibrations from bodily orifices.

The current speaker, a Human from the fourth planet in the Deneb system, Cygnus sector, was griping about static interference on their radio waves. Evidently the colonist children of Deneb 4 were having trouble watching kiddy entertainment on their viewers.

JorVaal yawned. Surely that was not a matter for the GCC Council?

All eyes and other sensory organs turned toward him. The man, Christopher Bainbridge, must have finished his discourse. "Thank you for your observations, citizen. My deputy will research the matter for you." JorVaal nodded at the assembly. "Next."

As one of the members of the GCC triumvirate, it was his turn to preside over the monthly meeting. Usually he did not mind, but today, listening to complaint after complaint, was tedious in the extreme. With so much work waiting for him, he itched for activity. His discontent was difficult to contain and he shifted position on the hard chair. Something important bothered him; something that had to do with Pent'.

Instead of paying attention to the new speaker, JorVaal steadily regarded his arch- nemesis, Pent', also seated at the table. His turn to officiate in the Council chamber was next month. So what was he doing here today?

"At the Uortzk, you stare too much," wheezed Liisan in her cautionary way.

JorVaal gazed down at the Yeamonl situated next to him. Her squat body was extended to its highest position, reaching a mere fifteen centimeters above the table. She could not have registered her disapproval of his behavior more clearly than if she had projected the words.

"Apologies, Liisan. I am perplexed at Pent's appearance here --"

"We object!"

Over the language converter system the raucous tones of the Uortzk bombarded each member's auditory function. In JorVaal's case, his ears rang.

Pent' rose up to his impressive height and, with claws extended, pointed an imperious, hairy paw. "The mighty JorVaal dishonors us with his...inattentiveness."

Liisan released her stored-up air, plainly shocked at the attack.

Of course JorVaal could not let the challenge pass. But, to be truthful, Pent' was correct. Matching the Uortzk's sarcastic tone, JorVaal said, "My pardons to this great assemblage and to the most exalted Pent'. I do not have an excuse. The day grows long and we have not taken an intermission for either sustenance or pleasure."

All members save one murmured their concurrence. The daily break for food and copulation were biological urges difficult to ignore. In fact, JorVaal's stomach did rumble a protest, although he had not yet decided on a partner for coitus.

Pent' saw through JorVaal's diversion. Shaking his massive head the Uortzk roared, "We cannot comprehend the conduct of this chamber. Allowing the weaknesses of the flesh to take preference over important concerns of the GCC? With all due respect, we believe the mighty JorVaal makes a mockery of our Council. Case in point, where is his second-in-command? His so-called deputy?"

By JorVaal's side, Liisan hissed in unease. "Careful, you must be. Discredit you, Pent' intends."

Even without the Yeamonl's telepathic abilities, JorVaal was aware of the danger. He stood, then pulled down the bottom of his tunic shirt. "Citizens, as I informed you all at the beginning of the meeting, Fredd Desilva, our ambassador from Alvitar and also my deputy, has taken personal leave. Liisan, from Yeamon, has graciously accepted his duties until he is with us again."

JorVaal consulted the timepiece attached to his shirt. "As I recall, Pent', you joined us late."

The rebuke did not deter the Uortzk. "When? When does Desilva get back from his travels?"

Flipping on an automatic timer, JorVaal then shrugged. "Fredd Desilva's return to duty is, as yet, undetermined. And now, citizens, are we in accord to adjourn the meeting until two hours hence?"

Agreement was quick and vociferous. As the triumvirate member in charge, JorVaal hammered the Council gavel on the table. "So be it. Citizens, good appetites!" The proceedings were now suspended.

Pent's hirsute face echoed his outrage, but surprisingly, he remained silent. Perhaps he knew a lost cause when he saw one. He took his place among the flurry of representatives departing the chamber and soon the noise was replaced by near- absolute quiet. The only sound JorVaal could hear was Liisan's oxygen valve vibrating as air flowed in and out.

He gathered his computer-log, then headed for the doors. "You have remained behind, Liisan. No hungers disturb you? Not for food nor sex?"

Since her native planet had twice the gravity of Xaspaar, she moved fluidly in this less dense atmosphere. He had no need to restrict the length of his stride.

"JorVaal, worried, I am. Suspects Fredd of trickery, Pent' does. Yet, some nefarious planning he does, I sense. But what?"

But what indeed? JorVaal would have to look into these matters himself. The Uortzks were a proud and dangerous race. They only had their interests at heart; the GCC meant nothing to them.

He waited for the doors to part, then allowed Liisan to exit first. Her stocky body was now stretched wider than higher. He smiled. She must have been looking forward to mating with one of her fellow Yeamonls.

As they entered the exterior corridor, lights brightened their way. To the far left a number of Human females gathered, all waiting for him, as was usual. Also usual was the women's vocal clamor to catch his attention.

Even at this distance, each and every one of their tall and sinewy forms stirred his loins. He pulled on his earlobe. Which one would he favor? A dilemma, that. JorVaal bent over to shake one of Liisan's upper limbs. "Good appetites to you, my friend. We part for now and shall meet again in two hours."

Turning toward the eager-looking group, JorVaal made his choice. He signaled to a pleasantly muscular young woman and left with her for his private quarters.

Splayed on his bed, JorVaal rose up on an elbow and grabbed a piece of orapple fruit lying on the adjoining table. He bit into it and its juicy, yet crisp meat, dribbled nectar down his chin. Annoyed at the sticky secretions, he wiped it away with a napkin, then sat up.

One hour remained until the GCC meeting re-adjourned. He had plenty of time to prepare himself and also make some inquiries into the Uortzk situation. His appetite now sated in two areas of daily biological urges, JorVaal disposed of the meal's remains down the debris chute. He hadn't invited his companion to stay and dine with him. Indeed, she hadn't expected the honor.

Rising, he entered the cleansing room and stepped into the shower stall. "Thirty-two degrees Celsius for two minutes, then twenty-three degrees for one minute," he ordered. A moderately hot stream of water engulfed him, washing away the rigors of the day.

Something Liisan had said troubled him. What was it? Ah, yes, Pent' suspected Fredd Desilva of trickery. Impossible, of course, but the Uortzk did seem inordinately interested in the Alvitan's location. Strange.

Strange too how Fredd suddenly decided to embark on this idle trip of his. Just four weeks ago, he had made plans to bring his daughter Iris to Xaspaar. Although a man of few words, Fredd had talked a blue streak with his enthusiasm -- uncommonly odd. Then from out of nowhere, he stated that he wanted to tour the blasted galaxy! Definitely out of character for Fredd and for an Alvitan.

JorVaal stepped out of the shower enclosure and lifted his arms. "Air temperature for..." He looked over his cleaned body to gauge his current wetness. "For fifty-one seconds."

With a whooshing sound, pleasantly warmed air forced from jets behind the walls dried his moisture. His hair, however, was still damp. A frown marred his lips as he flicked a comb through his somewhat receding, light brown hair. Although there was no stigma attached to baldness, he would much prefer to go to his grave with a full head of hair.

"Time," he barked.

The domicile administration unit, or DOM, mechanically intoned, "Seventeen zero three point six hours."

That much time had slipped away? Quickening his movements, JorVaal requested a fresh GCC uniform and a spritz of his favorite energizing fragrance: essences of eucalyptus, peppermint, and rosemary. Two minutes later, just as he finished attaching the timepiece to his breast, the DOM interrupted his thoughts.

"Liisan from Yeamon and Christopher Bainbridge from Deneb 4 request an audience with you, mighty JorVaal."

As a title, "the mighty JorVaal" weighed heavily on his shoulders. He constantly lived in the shadow of his illustrious ancestors -- father, grandfather, and two more up the family tree. Hence the "5" in his name. To be fair, he could tolerate the title's usage by beings that were alive. However, sycophantic behavior from mechanical entities could do nothing but irritate.

A quick review of the computer log refreshed his memory of the Denebian, Bainbridge. Static interference on planetary radio waves. Not galactic in its implications, but evidently Liisan must have thought it serious enough to disturb the reinvigoration time. JorVaal stepped into the receiving area of his quarters, which caused soft music to hum enticingly in preparation for his guests.

"Enter," he commanded.

After the door slid open, his visitors moved inside. Bainbridge walked while Liisan shuffled.

JorVaal shook the man's hand, then touched one of the Yeamonl's upper limbs. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. I fear my time is limited. I have some commitments prior to returning to the Council chamber. Will ten minutes suffice?"

"Yes, mighty JorVaal. And my humble thanks for agreeing to this intrusion." Bainbridge bowed his blonde head. "I had the supreme pleasure of encountering your interim deputy and took the liberty of informing her about Denebian concerns. We are both in accord in thinking the Uortzks are behind the increase in static interference bombarding our system."

"Indeed?" JorVaal studied the fair-haired man. The man favored a bushy mustache, an unfortunate reminder of more savage times. Age about twenty-eight, four years younger than himself, and also rigorously built. A healthy specimen of manhood, almost as all Humankind was in its natural state. Genetic altering tended to produce a vastly different, some said inferior, quality of men.

His good friend Fredd was so slender that should he venture out from the complex's huge doors, he would be blown away by one of Xaspaar's many wind storms. Christopher Bainbridge could have no fear of that occurring.

JorVaal pulled on his earlobe. Deneb, a yellowish white supergiant, lay strategically close to the Uortzk binary star system. Perhaps whatever deviousness Pent' was involved in, did affect the nearby colony of Humans. He turned to his temporary deputy.

"What say you, Liisan?" He kept his question short and to the point. Too much talking tired her.

The Yeamonl inched her way across the room. Sometimes she was as incapable of standing still as she was sitting. "Pent' disguises his thoughts, my senses indicate. Penetrate them, I cannot. Troubling. Also, JorVaal, news from Fredd, I bring."

Although gladdened by her tidings concerning Fredd, JorVaal waved that information aside for now. "I shall instruct our patrols in the Cygnus sector to be on alert for any unusual occurrences."

He clasped his hands behind his back and strode to the receiving area's large window. Xaspaar's class G sun was slowly setting in the west. Its normally golden rays refracted through the atmosphere, turning the deepening azure skies pink and orange. An inspiring sight. Even he, native to Xaspaar, delighted in nature's artistic canvas of colors.

"Thank you, sir," began Bainbridge, "I will inform my people --"

"No. Under the Uortzk Agreement, any member of the GCC cannot specifically observe another member's movements. If you do relay back to Deneb 4 about the alert, should Pent' become privy to it, he will assume his race is the focal point. Then he will register a protest which will set back relations between our two groups." Interplanetary relations were touch and go at best.

"Precisely," wheezed Liisan.

Bainbridge fingered the high neck on his tunic shirt. "Forgive me, sir, my intent was not to create an incident."

"Of course not. We will allow two weeks for my staff to 'research' your dilemma, after which time the GCC patrols can be made common knowledge. Will that satisfy?"

"Certainly, mighty JorVaal. Again, my thanks for your indulgence." Bainbridge stepped closer to the window. "If I may ask, is this scene real or is it from virtual memory?"

As one of the triumvirate members, everything was real, if JorVaal so desired. He smiled. "This is not a virtual reality, or VR, window. It is an actual view of the sunset, citizen."

Bainbridge inclined his head. "On my world, no one has such a home as you."

No envy tainted his tone, only appreciation. The man knew his place and his limitations. Being this astute, he also was aware that it was time for him to depart.

"Felicitations, sir. May you grant me the pleasure of greeting both you and Liisan when the Council resumes."

When he left the receiving area the door swished closed behind him.

JorVaal smiled again, this time a bit sadly. He had never had a home, only quarters. Regrets? Why should he lament his situation? Regrets were for weaklings! In a louder tone than he intended, he asked of his remaining visitor, "So, what news do you bring of our Fredd Desilva? I confess I do miss his spindly appearance."

"JorVaal." Liisan started to extend her body upward, a sure sign of her disapproval.

He laughed. "Peace, good Liisan. Here, let us share some absinthe while you give me the particulars. When may we expect Fredd?"

She accepted the crystal glass and with a genteel movement, sipped some of the light green liquid. "A return to Xaspaar in eight days, Fredd anticipates."

"So soon? Did he mention why he is cutting short his sightseeing trip?"

JorVaal's sarcasm was not lost on the Yeamonl. Her squat body teetered on rising, however the liqueur must have made her mellow. "No explanation except to say two Terrans, he brings."

"Terrans?" Not by design, some liquid sputtered out of JorVaal's mouth, settling on his chest. "By all the stars, why in Xaspaar's good name would he travel to the very brink of galaxy's end to procure those..."

Words, always readily available, now failed him. "Those...Earthers."

His now stained uniform enraged him further. "What mole-maggot has seized Fredd's brain?"

She was gracious enough to ignore that rhetorical question. "Indicate his travel path, he did not. Where he encountered Terrans, we cannot be certain." Her pause admonished him. "Why you Humans, formerly of Terra, should cast aspersions on its inhabitants and its culture, I fail to comprehend."

In all the time JorVaal knew Liisan, she had never registered interest about that particular aspect of Human behavior. But now, the nuances in her breathing patterns revealed intense curiosity.

He shrugged out of his shirt and ordered a clean one. So, Liisan and her telepathic associates could not understand the animosity between the two groups. Well, to be factual, it was only animosity on the part of the Core people. It was obvious, really. Terra and its natives, stuck in the primordial mud of birth, lived in the past. When it became time to break free from the bonds of childhood, Earthers had failed the test into adulthood. They took only baby steps, journeying to Terra's satellite, and a braver few to the other solar planets.

The majority of Humankind however, had embraced the adventure of interstellar travel. Over three hundred years ago billions of colonists had left, never to look back. Indeed, nothing that Terra offered could tempt any Core member to return. The infinite worlds of the galaxy lay here, as did the glorious future of Humankind.

Outside of biology, Earthers and Core members had nothing in common.

Properly dressed again, JorVaal made a small bow to his visitor. "Apologies for my display of emotion, Liisan. I expect it would be difficult for your people to understand these sentiments, although among ourselves, the differences are painfully obvious. Earthers represent the raw, uncivilized nature of Humankind. Contact with them can be unsettling. We, here on Xaspaar and throughout the galaxy Core, have evolved beyond our primitive beginnings. We represent a change for the better, while they are doomed to play out their lives in an endless rut bounded by a few million kilometers of space." He tugged on his earlobe. "Small, petty people. The puzzle is why Fredd would desire contact at all. What possible purpose could these Earthers serve?"

"A greater one than you know, perhaps, JorVaal. In Yeamonl philosophy, all things are conceivable." She yawned. "What of your Triumvirate Liaison, Mirabelle? A trip she also requested, I hear. Return soon as well, does she?"

Mirabelle Kingsley had the momentous job of communicating Human concerns to the other two members of the triumvirate: Pent' and Eglan, the Wn-Ganite. Each member had their own liaison, however Mirabelle, with her friendly manner and enterprising ways, was easily the one most preferred by all three men.

JorVaal smiled. She had also proved to be very skillful during reinvigoration time. Although, as of late, she had exhibited the repugnant trait of possessiveness.

"Mirabelle expects to arrive tomorrow at daybreak. Her journey however, is not by request, but an assignment by last month's Council. She traveled to Wn-Gan to represent Human interests in the Olympic Trials."

"Understood." Waving her upper limb, Liisan signaled departure. "And now, take my leave, I must. Your duties, you have, and I mine. Until the meeting re-adjourns."

Once she had gone the background music ceased in accordance with JorVaal's wishes. Only thirty five point two minutes remained with which to conduct business and also reflect. He quickly transmitted instructions to the Core patrol in Cygnus sector, as he had mentioned his intent to the Denebian. Further, using the encryptocron, he directed his on-site aides to keep a watch on the Uortzk contingent presently housed in Xaspaar City.

More inquiries demanded his attention, so he perused through the computer log and distributed the duties accordingly.

With six minutes until the hour, he finally sank into his vibro-chair to receive a full- body massage. However, neither the rubdown nor another glass of absinthe soothed his troubled thoughts. Of course, foremost on his mind was Pent' and whatever trouble he was planning. But the mystery concerning Fredd irritated him.

In truth, he did not have long to wait until he received the answer to his latter concern. Fredd would, most likely, have a logical explanation. That aside, there was one thing that JorVaal was certain of. He absolutely refused to have any contact, in any form, with those two offensive Earthers.

CHAPTER FOUR

Mirabelle Kingsley was ambitious, she could admit to that. Early in her life an unquenchable drive had fueled her escape from Bokar -- the third-rate planet she refused to call home -- and squarely settled her into the glamorous and prestigious world of Xaspaar -- headquarters of the GCC.

Never, never, never would she return to that ignominious pile of rubble she'd had the misfortune to be born on.

She fluffed out her shining halo of golden curls. Standing in front of the wall-length mirror in her quarters, she smoothed a sensuous line down her curvy hips. Back in Xaspaar City only one day and already JorVaal had expressed interest in sharing today's reinvigoration time.

She shut her eyes, pretending that it was his hands roaming over her body. "Mmm, nobody satisfies my longings like he does. If only I can make him choose me as the mother of his son. Then I would have it all!"

With JorVaal as her protector and JorVaal 6 as son, Mirabelle would be the most important woman on Xaspaar. No, the most important in the entire galaxy! A crafty smile lit her coral lips. Somehow, she had to convince him to select her. After all, she had the ways and the means to delight him -- many times over. Perhaps if she blew a kiss on his sensitive --

An inharmonious noise disturbed her reveries. "Mirabelle Kingsley, we desire communication with you," the wall unit squawked.

Damn! By its strident tones the speaker could only be a Uortzk. Was it Pent'?

"We desire more from you as well, Mirabelle."

No mistaking the heavy breathing dripping between each of his words. Unnatural, aberrant lust. She shivered. No, it wasn't Pent', but his deputy, Hanik -- lecherous, old bear.

Mirabelle walked over to the wall unit. "You may desire, Hanik, but you will never have." She allowed that point to sink home. "Now, what is it you wish to discuss?"

A growl rattled the thin metallic casing on the unit. "One day you will come begging."

She had to laugh. "Begging a Uortzk for coitus? You are absurd!" Just picturing the repugnant act made her insides actually ache.

"We shall see," he grunted ominously. "However, to business. Our sources indicate that today you go to JorVaal for copulation."

Was envy tingeing Hanik's thoughts?

"Baldly stated, but true." At least Mirabelle hoped. With JorVaal, she never knew where she stood.

"This is your new assignment then. You are to learn why Fredd Desilva left Xaspaar. What is his mission and when does he return?"

She folded her arms across her ample chest. Sure, she'd worked with the Uortzks on the sly before. Sometimes she'd even worked for them -- to achieve her own ends. To get ahead a female had to do what she had to do. But to be given an out-and- out assignment!

As she drummed her fingers against her upper arms, her short nails grazed the surface of her skin. "You and Pent' presume too much. I am not your...your damned snitch!"

"You will comply, Mirabelle. You always do."

"Don't hold your obnoxious breath, Hanik." She terminated the conversation with a flip of a switch. Damn them! Just who did they think they were to order her around?

Another noise interrupted her thoughts; it was the beep signaling the beginning of the invigoration period. If she didn't catch JorVaal in time, chances were that he wouldn't wait for her.

Grabbing a belt to emphasize her tiny waist, Mirabelle then stuck her tongue at the wall unit and hurried out the door.

Strapped into a cushioned chair, Sam admired the skillful way Fredd handled the docking maneuver for his spacecraft. To be truthful though, she admired them in between stomach flip-flops. Her tummy had flopped, then flipped so many times during the journey that she feared it would never be right side up again.

But, she had to look on the bright side. Half the trip was already over. Once Mart had left his Beta-Siwinski Disease behind, all she had to endure were six more passages through gut-wrenching wormholes, one docking at Luna Landing and then finally back to Earth. Home sweet Earth.

Fredd switched off the last of the controls, reattached his visors, then turned to her. "How do you feel, lass?"

"Like hamburger meat," she replied bluntly. She could tell from his expression that he had no idea what she was talking about. Hard to believe that hamburgers, real or soy, were unknown to Humankind at galaxy center.

"Well, I'm fine!" Mart disconnected the restraints and jumped to a standing position. "Can't wait to be one hundred percent a-okay."

He grabbed his supply bag. "Feels like we're back to good ol' Earth gravity. Heavier than lead boots! Er, by any chance, we wouldn't have a few free minutes before disembarkin', would we, Fredd?"

"Nae, Martin. A welcoming party awaits our arrival even as we speak."

Sam stood and smoothed down the stiff fabric of her cabin suit. She was comfortably warm, but for her neck. Newly bare, her skin produced goose bumps in the cool pressurized air.

She fingered a wisp of hair coiled by her ear. No, she hadn't cut it, certainly not! Instead, her long, barbarous hair was neatly wound into a bun atop her head. Also, to further hide the offending tresses, she'd pulled on a sports cap. Maybe not très chic, but it would have to do. Imagine having a law against long hair! Still, a law was a law, and she couldn't stay inside the ship as she'd quipped earlier. Plus, she wouldn't be much help to Mart from inside a GCC jail.

Reservations aside, she really was excited. Not every day a hometown girl stepped off an exotic spaceship smack dab in the middle of the Milky Way Galaxy! Just wait until she got back to the unicopter factory. Everyone's eyes would turn bright green!

Fredd extended his bony hand toward the door. "This way, Sophia, Martin. First we need fer you to get settled. Then we can unload the baggage."

Mart shifted his gaze to the left, then right. "Sure. We'll do that, uh, later."

Why did he seem so uneasy? Rubbing her chin, Sam followed both men down the exit ramp. Then it came to her in a flash. No mystery about Mart. For all his attempts at blasé sophistication, deep down he was just as nervous as she was.

And why not? They had ever right to be --

Without warning the doors melted away to reveal the outside. Or rather, the inside of a spacecraft hangar. She panned the sheer size of it, starting at the metallic floor and not ending until her neck stretched back, giving her a great view of the ceiling. Of course, the hangar had to be huge to house Fredd's ship, but still, she'd never seen such a structure.

Several door frames were cut through the length of the gleaming walls, leading into the darkness beyond. Adorning each door frame were two stone heads facing away from each other.

Odd. That reminded her of something, but what?

A buzz from below caught her attention. A small group of people stood at the base of the nearest door frame. Her first view of actual GCC residents. Elegant and poised, they seemed only mildly interested in the newcomers. Sam quickly counted them. Eight pairs of eyes stared up at her. Eight pairs of cold, pale eyes.

Feeling like a hayseed tossed into this slickly refined environment, she gulped hard. Extreme shyness rushed over her, and with it, the hotness of embarrassment. She probably had blotches of mottled pink decorating her cheeks. But forget that, how was Mart holding up?

After exchanging a look with him, she exhaled her agitation. She wasn't alone. Poor kid felt the same way. Just then though, his eyes turned glassy, a sign of an oncoming attack.

"Mart, snap out of it. Please!"

Thankfully, he was able to avoid an episode. Wearing an embarrassed grin, he gave her a thumb's up.

Fredd gestured to the crowd. "Come, I'll introduce you both."

Right. Nothing to do but go forward. Walking down the ramp, Sam had a few seconds to study the gathering below. All Humans, an even mixture of men and women, and all extremely handsome. One woman in particular stood out. Tall and lissome, she wore her short hair in a wave of appealingly tousled, burnished gold curls. Her well- defined and conditioned muscles were visible through the satin sheen of rainbow leggings and a tailored green top.

What was contained within that top would have been the envy of every woman in Greater Missouri.

And speaking of green, her almond-shaped, emerald eyes fairly blasted a hole right through Sam.

Heavens, that woman doesn't like me, does she?

Sam glanced down at her bulky apparel. But why? Compared to her, I'm an absolute dowd. She shrugged. So what? I didn't travel kazillions of miles just to get intimidated by a disagreeable look.

Too soon, she reached the "welcoming" committee. After the group clapped somewhat half-heartedly, Fredd graciously bowed, then took Sam and Mart's hands. "My thanks fer this warm reception on behalf of myself and my two friends. Citizens, may I present Sophia McLaren and Martin McLaren, both of Terra?"

Murmurs of astonishment escaped the greeters...all except the blonde woman. She leaned over to her companion and whispered, "Earthers! They must be siblings as well. Can you imagine? Decidedly provincial for even offworlders." She sniffed. "I wonder why Desilva tolerates them."

Poisoned whispers, but Sam heard them. Being a sibling was provincial? She fiddled with the top button on her cabin suit. Did that mean these people had only one child per family? How very...sad.

The woman made a path through the disinterested group to envelop Fredd in an immodest hug. By his grin, the silver-haired Fredd didn't mind one bit. Even Mart ogled his friend's good fortune.

"Fredd, it is so good to see you again! Everyone has missed you, including the mighty JorVaal. He regrets that he could not come himself to greet you."

She bent over and pressed her smooth cheek next to Fredd's leathered one and completely ignored both McLarens. "What was so important to make you leave here, Fredd? Not just to go to rustic old Terra! Do tell, did you find what you were looking for?"

While the mismatched pair conversed, Mart elbowed Sam in the ribs. "I could get used to Xaspaar's welcomin' ways."

"Don't count on it," Sam rebutted. "We're provincials from rustic old Terra."

As soon as Fredd found himself released, he said, "Ach, Mirabelle, you never change. Always plying me with kisses. My friends, this is Mirabelle Kingsley, one of the Triumvirate Liaisons."

Triumvirate? Surely an unusual choice for governing.

"Pleased to meet you," Mart spoke eagerly. He nudged Sam again.

"How do you do?" asked Sam, right on cue.

Mirabelle nodded her regal head. But since she was close to six foot one in height, she could afford to look regal.

The other people gave their farewells, then began to disperse. Evidently the festivities were over. Fredd bowed again. "The hour grows late, Mirabelle. I must procure quarters fer my guests."

"Already done. And a surprise for you has also been arranged. If you but go to your rooms, you will find someone waiting for you. Not to worry about your...friends. I shall escort them to the proper facility."

Although his expression didn't change, a gentle cadence overtook his high-pitched voice. "You speak of my Iris, aye? My offspring decided to visit after all!" He wiped at the skin under his visors. "'Tis pleased I am to hear this news. But before I see Iris, I must convey Sophia and --"

"No, no, you go on, Fredd," Mart volunteered. "Sam 'n me will follow Ms. Kingsley. Don't worry your ear clips over it."

Not that Fredd had ear clips. That manner of speaking was just Mart's way.

The odious woman smiled angelically. "Ms." she remarked. "A quaint designation."

"Sophia, does this meet with yer approval?" Fredd's chest barreled out even further. Clearly, he wanted to see his daughter, but was torn by duty.

Funny, she hadn't pictured him as a father...or a husband. I wonder what Iris looks like. Sam cleared her throat, dispelling any mental picture that might have arisen. "Sure, go ahead, Fredd. Mart and I will be fine. We'll catch up with you later."

"Agreed." Fredd clasped his hand on her shoulder. "Until this evening, Sophia, Martin."

After a few words with Mirabelle, Fredd then entered a corridor. The darkness soon swallowed him up.

Uneasiness crept up Sam's backbone, refusing to be cast aside. But why? Why was she wary?

Much to Mart's obvious delight, the woman threaded her sturdy arm through his. "So, you both come from...Terra, is it? How very tedious for you. All that past and no future. I am certain you will enjoy all Xaspaar has to offer." Her smile could have charmed a snake. "Xaspaar is the most desirable place in the galaxy."

It was? Sam gave her surroundings another glance. But then again, this was only a spaceship hangar.

Walking through one of the door frames, Mirabelle continued to talk with Mart as if Sam didn't exist. Which was okay with Sam. Who wanted Marvelous Mirabelle's notice, anyway? She trailed behind, and stopped a moment to study the two carved stone faces on the door frame, gazing out into the distance.

"So familiar," she mumbled. "I've seen them before, if only I could remember where."

Fading footsteps recalled her to her surroundings. Before she lost sight of Mart's lanky form and Mirabelle's athletically taut one, Sam ran down the corridor to catch up.

Sam consulted her wristwatch: eight o'clock -- evening time. After a brief dinner in her rooms, she had been invited to join Fredd in his quarters. So here she was. Over the room intercom, he'd said that he would tell her and Mart about the upcoming treatment for Beta-Siwinski Disease. They'd find out where they would have to go, what to expect, and how long the process took.

All that was great, only Fredd wasn't here and neither was Mart.

Sam paced the living room area, sending the hem of her soft, chiffon dress flying. She wore one of her Sunday-best outfits: a breezy gown the length of which was well past her knees and whose top featured long, flowing sleeves. She needed all of its dressy features. Wearing a Yankees' sports cap as formal attire did nothing to reassure her feminine ego.

She frowned. Where in blue blazes was Mart? He wasn't in his room either; she'd checked. Fumbling with one of the top buttons on her bodice, she unbuttoned it -- a nervous habit. Maybe she was just being over anxious. Fredd had said he'd be here so maybe he was lassoing up Mart, and both of them were on their way back now.

Yes, that must be it. Relaxing, she allowed herself the luxury of looking around the room. It was sparsely decorated -- a few chairs, square tables, a cabinet. Nothing much of interest and nothing much different from back home furniture. But what was odd was the fact that the room didn't contain a single window. Neither did Mart's for that matter. No view of the alien outside. As far as she knew, she might have still been on Earth.

On Fredd's walls however, were various pictures, some of which had a backdrop of a lavender sky. She wandered over to get a better look.

"Would you care fer music, madam?" a tinny voice spoke from nowhere.

Sam whirled around, but she remained alone in the room. "Who are you?"

The lights dimmed once, then returned to their non-glare brightness. "This chamber comes with a domicile administration unit, or DOM. Fredd Desilva requested DOM to see to yer comfort until his return."

She smiled. A domicile administration unit. Impressive. Imagine never having to clean again. Or straighten up after untidy chickens! What a life! DOM even sounded like Fredd.

"DOM did not wish to intrude before. You seemed preoccupied. Do you wish music? A drink?"

"Music would be nice, thank you, DOM." First thing that she would do when she returned to her room would be to see if she had a DOM too. Such an amenity was a plus, but it also had a price tag. Did Fredd and his fellow GCC members ever have privacy?

Sweet, melodious notes hung softly in the artificially perfumed air. Soothing, and yet not soothing. She turned back to the wall hangings. One picture, a hologram of a young woman, shimmered realistically at Sam. Big-breasted, or more correct, a big chested girl, with slender, graceful fingers -- perhaps this was Iris.

Sam pressed a button on the frame.

"Greetings, Father. I miss you so much. If only we could be together again."

Heavens! The image moved and talked!

"My heart expands with love fer you, Father. You must know our people think of you often." The hologram image bowed, then waved. "Until we see each other again."

Amazing!

"Iris Desilva is a dutiful daughter. A delight, also." A now-deep voiced DOM offered this opinion.

Sam rubbed her chin before responding. With machines sounding so life-like, making observations and seeing to one's needs, why bother talking with real people?

She spoke to DOM. "I haven't had the pleasure of meeting her --"

Turning around, she saw that she was no longer alone. A very tall man filled the room. Athletically built, his broad shoulders contrasted sharply with slim, masculine hips. He was wearing a uniform of some sort: a tunic shirt the color of a moonless night and tight, matching pants. The garments seemed molded to his body, revealing powerful muscles, all lean and mean, exposing not one ounce of fat.

By his rigid stance, she could tell that he was used to command, maybe even born to it. His determined chin, square jaw, and hawk-like nose all indicated an exacting personality. Now, his lips, full and generous, were curved upwards.

She liked what she saw, so she smiled back. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you enter."

His gaze swept over her and his smile deepened. "No apologies are necessary, I assure you. I have had time to contemplate your unusual attire from the back and now from the front."

As he reached over to lift the material from her hanging sleeves, his warm fingers brushed against her upper arm. "I believe this is called a dress, is it not?" Then he touched the brim of her hat. "And your head apparel -- Yankees. What does that word mean?"

Heat burned her cheeks, and she stepped away. She wasn't used to strangers touching her, especially such handsome ones. "It, um, it's the name of a sports team."

"Indeed? I do not recognize it. Do you go to our Olympic Trials on Wn-Gan?"

He focused his steely blue eyes on her. As if caught by a paralyzing beam, she couldn't move, couldn't breathe. For some reason, she felt tingly all over. "I...have only just arrived here. I come from...off-world."

Memories of Mirabelle's scorn of Earth and its people still rankled. Sam preferred to keep her origins to herself for a while. The man, whoever he was, excited her in some peculiar way. Maybe it was purely physical. After all, his outward form was the very picture of masculine perfection. His warrior stance emphasized solid, powerful thighs and his hands on hips bulged out strong bicep muscles. The man's short, tawny hair contained an appealing wave, almost beckoning her to run her fingers through.

A sigh escaped her lips. He could probably write a book on sexual magnetism.

Or maybe it was a mental attraction rather than physical. His high forehead and no- nonsense blue eyes seemed to indicate a towering intelligence; someone who could analyze the pants off of a person.

She flushed again. An unfortunate choice of words.

The man walked over to the cabinet and poured pale green liquid into a glass. "Absinthe?"

She shook her head and sat to calm her wobbly knees. He wasn't the first good- looking man she'd met, so why was her heart thumping in such an unusual way? "No, thank you. You must be waiting for Fredd, as I am. My name is Sam --"

He held up his large hand. "Names are unnecessary. How long have you been waiting for Desilva?"

"About ten minutes, I guess."

He downed his drink in one gulp. "How long?" he repeated, only this time louder.

She was about to reply again, but DOM spoke first. "Fourteen point seven minutes."

He set the glass down with a thud. "Long enough. No sense in waiting any longer." His next command was directed at her. "Tell Desilva I need to speak with him."

"But..." This man took for granted that she knew who he was. Admitting her ignorance would really identify her as a provincial.

He strode to the door, then turned to face her. "But? You want something more?" His gaze flickered over her again. "Ah, yes. Although not my usual style, you do have an interesting allure. I will agree to one time. If it is good, then perhaps more."

After consulting a small notebook, he continued, "Not tomorrow, but the next day's reinvigoration period. Until then."

She blinked and he was gone. What on Earth was he talking about? She stood up in a daze and twisted her top button closed. Whatever it was, she was certain she'd just been insulted.

Mart gently set the wooden carton down next to his bed. With shaking hands, he removed the top. Neither of the chickens moved. He gulped down hard. "Girls, c'mon now, the trip's over. No more wormholes, I promise. Henrietta, give me a little peck. Cluck, let me see your beady black eyes."

Once out of the box, the hens obeyed, but just barely. Still unsteady, they wobbled on the carpeted floor a bit, then plopped down as if to roost.

Relief flooded through him. "Geez, that was close." Stroking their soft feathers, he sprinkled some of their special alfalfa meal inside a dish. "I almost lost you girls, didn't I?"

Busy eating, they didn't reply.

"Damn. Takin' you with me wasn't such a good idea after all. There's no way you can survive the trip back, even I know that."

The chickens' molty feathers proclaimed their ill health. One more jaunt into a wormhole and they'd be headed for Henrietta Heaven and Cluck-Cluck Paradise.

His wristwatch beeped once. Eight thirty! He was supposed to have been in Fredd's rooms at eight. Unexpectedly, his doorbell chimed. Slugs! It was probably Fredd...or Sam, looking for him.

Mart stood, then wiped his hands on his pants. "You girls be good 'n quiet now."

After he closed the bedroom door, he slid open the entrance one. It was Fredd, patiently waiting in the corridor.

"Er, hi there, Fredd. Sorry I'm late. I was wanderin' down the halls 'n I sorta got turned around."

The solemn expression on Fredd's face didn't change. He obviously didn't believe Mart. "Lost? How verra interesting. Dinna you peruse the blueprints for this complex but yesterday? I understand you possess the abilities of eidetic imagery, or in other words, a photographic memory. Aye or nae, Martin?"

How did Fredd know that? Mart tugged sharply on his hair. It was always unpleasant being caught in a lie. "Well, actually --"

"And this?" Fredd bent over and removed some of the poultry feed remnants on Mart's pants. Fredd rolled a crumb between his index finger and thumb, then tasted it. "Your dinner was so inferior that you need to snack on soybean and alfalfa meal? Ach, we must complain to the chef."

A heavy realization sank Mart's shoulders. The secret of the stowaway chickens would have to come out. He was in hot water now. And considering some of the goofy regulations on this planet, he'd probably broken a hundred of them. Hadn't even considered Xaspaar's requirements for quarantines or laws on contraband.

Mart smiled bitterly. Only on the planet a few hours and already he was a criminal. Sam too, with her long hair.

"I guess I can't hide the girls any longer. C'mon, Fredd. I'll show you."

Although Fredd's visors remained in place, his eyes must've been bugging out. As soon as he saw the hens, he dropped down to his knees and touched them. "You have...chickens? You brought chickens all the way from Terra?"

"Sure. I didn't buy them at the local store."

"Great stars above." Fredd petted Henrietta on her favorite spot, just under her fleshy crest. "How did they survive the trip? Gallus domesticus perished during the great galactic migration three hundred and fifty years ago. The species no longer exists -- here on Xaspaar. Martin, 'tis a stroke of genius!"

This certainly wasn't the reaction Mart expected. "A genius for smuggling in chickens?"

"As you would say, Martin my lad, dinna waste any electrons on it!" With an elongated finger, Fred signaled to leave the bedroom. He then closed the door. "I must notify Central Control so they can prepare a suitable environment fer these rare specimens. You dinna object?"

"Actually, I'm relieved. I pictured bein' thrown into a dungeon for my sins." Mart shook his head over this strange turn of events. "But I insist on visitation rights."

"Humor becomes you, lad. Let me make the arrangements, then we can return to my quarters. My offspring and yer sibling await us."

Mart sank into a chair and nervously drummed his fingers. Guilt exuded from every pore. His sibling. His dear, loyal sibling. By the comets, what would Sam have to say about his latest misadventure?

"It gives me much pleasure to meet you, Sophia. Father has said much about you. He mentioned yer dark hair and eyes complementing yer passionate nature. I agree. Uncommon goodness shines forth from you." Iris Desilva folded her hands in her lap and gazed steadily at Sam. "And I love yer dress and hat."

Sam flushed at the intensity of the girl's words. Iris was little more than seventeen, and yet her mature demeanor made her seem much older. Her remarks began to sink in. Why did Fredd think Sam was so...special? Why did he speak so intimately about her? She was just herself, for heaven's sake.

Iris smiled briefly, then walked to the cabinet in her father's living area. With her thumb and slightly lengthened index finger, she picked up a piece of fruit. "An orapple. Would you like a slice? We dinna have this delicacy on Alvitar."

Now Iris, on the other hand, was an ethereal stunner. Wearing leggings and a form- fitting top, she was as thin as a flower stalk, except in the chest area. She didn't have the spindliness that her father had, however. Also, the blazing blue irises of her eyes were not as large as Fredd's, and she didn't wear sun visors. She did blink a lot, though, and that gave Sam an idea.

"DOM, would you dim the lights, please?"

The domicile unit didn't answer, but immediately the wattage decreased.

Iris blinked one last time. "Why, thank you verra much, Sophia, fer having such consideration. My eyes, while not as sensitive as Father's, do tend to water in excessive light. We on Alvitar have been bred fer increased night vision, you know. Does this darkness now bother you?"

Sam reached over and picked up the unusual combination of fruit: orange and apple. Sweet and tart at the same time, it was delicious. She dabbed at the excess juice on her lips. "Not at all, and no need to thank me. DOM is the one who lowered the brightness."

A strange sound came from the walls. Almost as if DOM had gasped in surprise.

Iris gave a girlish giggle and popped another orapple into her mouth. "What luck fer me to have such a fun companion, Sophia! In truth, I had no notion of what awaited me when I arrived on Xaspaar. Neither did Father. At times we Alvitans encounter some...resistance to our presence."

"Whatever do you mean, Iris?"

The girl gave a trill of a laugh -- a nervous laugh. "Please, forget what I said. I did wonder what I would do here since Father stays constantly busy. His duties as deputy to the mighty JorVaal and as Alvitar's GCC representative, you know. However, he tells me that starting tomorrow, I escort you and yer brother to the care facilities on a daily basis."

Not exactly the most amusing of activities! Maybe when they got to know each other better the girl would open up more and explain what she'd meant. Obviously all was not right in the "most desirable place in the galaxy."

Sam smiled encouragingly. "That's great news for us. I have so many questions, and frankly, some of them I'd rather ask you than your father."

Iris laughed again, which shook her thin frame to the top of her short wavy, red hair.

This was as good a time as any for Sam to ask what was foremost on her mind. "Iris, what is a reinvigoration period?"

The girl vigorously blushed enough to match the color of her hair. She tried to speak, but stumbled over her words. Evidently, what she needed to say couldn't be said politely.

"Never mind, Iris. I get the picture. That's kind of what I thought, anyway. If I describe a particular man to you, maybe you could tell me who he is?"

"Certainly, if I can. However, my acquaintances here don't number over twenty or so."

Sam paused. How could she describe the power and arrogance of the man who'd interrupted her solitude? She didn't want to drone on and on about his outward good looks. Iris might believe Sam was smitten, which she wasn't. Just curious, that was all.

"Well, let's see. This man is very tall, with tawny brown hair --"

The entry door slid open. Fredd and a sheepish looking Mart walked inside.

"Our apologies fer the delay, Sophia, Iris. You two feel comfortable in each other's company, I trust? Martin and I had to handle a little matter concerning some domestic fowl."

Chickens? Sam eyed her brother. He couldn't have possibly --

"Martin," Fredd continued, "you must meet my one true jewel, Iris." He cupped his daughter's hand with Mart's, then smiled at both of their rising pink colors.

"Uh, nice to meet you," mumbled Mart.

"Delighted," Iris said shyly.

Sam observed Mart's noticeable awkwardness and darting glances at Fredd's daughter. If she didn't know any better, she'd say it was love at first sight. Puppy love, at any rate.

Fredd left the two young ones in the corner and sat next to Sam. "Again, regrets fer my tardiness."

She tugged on her sports cap. Suddenly, its tight fit was too constraining. "I have a sinking feeling Mart's the cause of it. Is he in any trouble?"

"Not to worry. I believe all of Xaspaar and the Core will benefit from his hijinks."

Somehow that was not very comforting, but why think of Mart's pranks right now? What was done was done. "I admit that's a relief."

"But of course, you feel anxious about Martin's upcoming treatment. I hope to allay yer fears." His face crinkled up in a smile -- a criss-crossing network of lines.

"Yes, well..." As much as she wanted to hear the details, her conscience niggled her. That mystery man had said he needed to speak with Fredd. She should relay the message. She really should.

Duty won out over personal preference.

"Fredd, before you go into the particulars, someone came here looking for you. He didn't leave his name, but I got the impression that the matter was important."

"The man entered my quarters?"

She nodded.

Fredd stood. "Only JorVaal may do that." In a louder voice, he said, "Confirm."

"Correct," DOM replied. "JorVaal 5 Lanquist desired to speak with you."

Bowing, Fredd took her hand. "Again I must temporarily leave, lass. Whatever the mighty JorVaal's business, of a certainty it can only pertain to an urgent situation." He paused. "I hope JorVaal was courteous to you."

She nodded. For a man inflated with his own ego, he had been polite.

"Good." Fredd sounded relieved. "Unfortunately, JorVaal dinna care fer people from yer planet."

Maybe the feeling is mutual!

Fredd seemed to study her. Hopefully, he couldn't read her thoughts. After pausing a moment, he instructed Iris to see to the McLarens' needs and departed.

In a trance, Sam walked to the cabinet and poured some of that green stuff the man had called absinthe. She needed a drink -- a good, stiff drink. Its licorice favor burned an unfamiliar path down her throat, causing her to cough.

JorVaal. So, she had been propositioned by one of the leaders of the Galactic Core Coalition. No, not propositioned, but granted the privilege of an opportunity to copulate with him. What an honor.

Well, the "mighty" JorVaal had another thing coming. No wonder he assumed she knew who he was. No wonder "names were unnecessary." He probably had a list a mile long of females waiting for the "honor" of sharing his bed.

She finished the liqueur and absentmindedly put the glass back down, almost missing the cabinet top. She was only a guest here on the Core's main planet and she certainly didn't want to make any waves -- not with Mart's future in the balance, but...but she'd be snowed if she'd take him up on his "generous" offer.

The mighty JorVaal had counted one too many chickens before they were hatched. He was doomed to be disappointed.

Disappointed, if he in fact remembered her at all.

As quickly as it had arisen, Sam's righteous anger faded, only to be replaced by a strange feeling of melancholy.

CHAPTER FIVE

"Electromagnetic radiation levels fluctuating in Cygnus sector, theta quadrant, sir," one of the data technicians relayed back to JorVaal.

"Noted." Rising from his chair in Central Control, he strode past the staff working the duty shift and stopped at his deputy's station. Good to have Fredd Desilva back. It was only the second day since his return, but already everyone's efficiency had improved and the work flowed smoother. Fredd had that effect on people.

JorVaal tapped the Alvitan on the shoulder. "Theta quadrant contains the Uortzk binary star."

Fredd looked up from his calculations. His eyes protected by infrared shields, he nonetheless conveyed his concern with a frown. "Among others. A verra serious situation, and yet the Uortzks' aren't running around like chickens with their heads cut off."

JorVaal stared at his deputy. Peculiar analogy to say the very least. He then signaled to the technician. "Identify type of radiation and possible source."

Grabbing a vacant chair, he sat next to Fredd, then activated a silencing field encompassing the two of them. The field clicked into place. Sounds within the silencing parameter didn't escape to the outside, while the background noises in the Control Center permeated the field's clear bubble. For their conversation, they had complete and dependable privacy.

"This is worrisome, Fredd. If the increased radiation can be measured into the next quadrant by Deneb 4 colonists as Christopher Bainbridge brought to our attention, then why didn't Pent' place this information on the Council's agenda?" JorVaal slammed his hand against the wood resin table. "Dammit, why hasn't he called an emergency meeting?"

Fredd exhaled deeply, which took several seconds considering his large chest. "I canna say. Pent' usually is verra dutiful of his position to his people -- his race. Why does he ignore this threat to their safety?"

"Why, indeed?" JorVaal narrowed his gaze at an approaching technician. Pent's behavior did not make sense. The Uortzks had sensors as powerful as the Humans'. They would be aware of increased radiation. So why did Pent' neglect to inform the GCC?

The technician, a new recruit from the member planet Wn-Gan, walked up to Fredd's station and saluted smartly. "Ssir, we have issolated the ssource. It appearss to be Rama, the blue-white companion sstar to the Uortzk yellow ssun. However, Core patrol indicatess that at the pressent time, energy levelss have returned to normal."

JorVaal deactivated the silencing field. "Thank you for the report, citizen. Keep me abreast of any changes."

The Wn-Ganite nodded. "The odd thing iss, ssir, we likewisse are receiving readingss on hard gamma ray output alsso increassed in the theta quadrant."

Gamma rays were electromagnetic radiation emitted by radioactive decay -- a common energy output of black holes. "Any black holes charted in the area?"

"No, ssir. The clossest recorded hole is in ssector Q.12."

JorVaal raised his eyebrow at Fredd. "Then it appears that we may have missed one. Assign an investigation team to confirm."

"Yess, ssir."

The Wn-Ganite appeared unwell. True, he was new to Xaspaar, but the contour of his body looked fuzzy and indistinct -- a sure sign of Wn-Ganite fatigue.

JorVaal checked his timepiece. Only seven point three minutes remained until the standard reinvigoration time. He would take pity on the GCC rookie. Standing, JorVaal raised his voice to the staff. "But first, notify the relief personnel that our intermission begins now. Until two hours hence. Citizens, good appetites!"

It was as if he had ordered a bonus in their monthly pay. Smiles and murmurs of appreciation invaded the somber Central Control area. One by one, each staff member filed out of the glass-enclosed room. Finally only he and Fredd were left.

"What is the delay, Fredd? Have you no biological urges to satisfy? Surely you do not plan to work through the intermission. The discovery of a phantom black hole can wait for two more hours."

"Ach, nae, I made plans to take my meal with a friend. I expect the lass shortly."

JorVaal sat back and studied his deputy. Good, Fredd finally found someone with whom he could share his time. For some inexplicable reason, Alvitans bonded with only one member of the opposite sex during their lifetimes. This primitive practice was known as "marriage." Fredd's mate had died over two years ago and he had expressed no interest in female companionship -- until now.

Marriage. JorVaal shuddered. How unnatural.

He slapped Fredd on the back, which shook the man to his very bones. "And then copulation afterwards? I am glad to hear of it."

Fredd started to speak, but JorVaal waved him aside. "No, in truth, I have been worried about you. What with your spouse's death and the sudden trip beyond the boundaries of space. And then, by the stars, you bring those...Earthers back with you!"

The thought particularly disturbed JorVaal. He stood and paced around the table. "I cannot adequately convey my concern. We have not had a chance to talk about it these past two days since your arrival. Tell me, what possessed you to take on the responsibility? To put it mildly, Earthers are barbaric. Why did they wish to come here?"

The relief personnel for this duty shift entered Control Center, interrupting him. Saluting him, they went about their business.

Fredd stood and faced the wall of glass separating the control area from the rest of the GCC complex. Perhaps he was looking for his "friend."

"The technical term remains 'Terrans'," he gently reminded JorVaal. "And as fer traveling here, the lad -- young man, really -- seeks a cure fer his medical condition. My Iris conducted him to the Health Bureau this morning."

"Hmm." JorVaal had no patience for Earthers, nor sickness, for that matter. Ill Earthers were twice the bane to Xaspaar society. Why did Fredd feel that he had to be the one to spread compassion and good will throughout the galaxy?

Fredd smiled in his dry, little way. "This Terran goes by the name Martin, while his sister answers to Sophia. A verra lovely name, isn't it?"

JorVaal's hunger vanished. Siblings here on Xaspaar. What would be next?

"Martin inadvertently performed a favor fer all of us," Fredd continued. "He secretly brought along two of the species Gallus domesticus. Chickens, don't you know? The chickens have their own habitat now. Reports from Central Control indicate that our people are crazy about the birds."

"Yes, I was informed about the creatures." Getting ready to leave, JorVaal lifted his computer log. Evidently, he would have to agree to disagree on the merits of Earthers with his deputy. Besides, only ninety-eight point one minutes were left until Central Control repopulated with the original duty shift. While his hunger was nil, his sexual desire throbbed painfully through his body.

"So, I shall leave you to your friend to share biological delights while I go to obtain mine. Good appetites, Fredd."

As JorVaal approached, the reinforced glass doors parted. He entered the corridor and glanced over at the observation gallery. As always, the congregation of females waiting for him was three deep. Whom would he patronize today?

"JorVaal!"

A call to the right diverted his attention. From down the junction tube, Mirabelle Kingsley waved her well-formed arm. He waited until she caught up with him.

"Mirabelle, you are looking especially appealing today." Her light green eyes contained a welcoming sparkle and her milky-white skin held a translucent glow.

Which was to be expected. He had shared yesterday's reinvigoration period with her -- to the mutual satisfaction of both parties.

She smiled, dimpling both her cheeks. "JorVaal, I have just finished a meeting with the committee on the Olympic Trials. I am free now, if you care to repeat our pleasures during this intermission." Her voice grew husky. "I know I would."

About to agree, he noticed her apparel. The multi-color leggings were typical, but her over-long top swung freely around her taut thighs.

A flicker of a memory surfaced in his mind's eye, the vision of an airy garment called a dress that covered the small frame of a woman so different from the ones populating Xaspaar. She was only 165 centimeters or so, and had the darkest brown eyes he had ever seen. The color of those eyes matched her hair, what he could see of it. Covering the bulk of her tresses had been a most peculiar hat.

Overall, the woman was not up to his standards, but she had an impish quality that he found intriguing. And if he remembered correctly, he had scheduled this reinvigoration period with her.

So where was she?

"JorVaal?" Mirabelle smiled winningly.

"One moment, dear one." He quickly scanned the observation gallery again. The numbers had now thinned to two people thick, but no one possessed those dark, enticing eyes.

He turned away. He certainly would not wait for the woman. "Mira --"

He stopped. There she was, rapidly walking down the junction tube. The same odd hat was perched upon her head, only this time she wore a type of pants and buttoned shirt. She was late, but he wouldn't hold it against her. He could afford to be generous. After all, she had said she just arrived on Xaspaar; newcomers often lost their way in the complex's maze of corridors.

And copulation was one way to maintain good relations with off-worlders!

He shook his head at Mirabelle. "Regrets, dear one. Indeed, I enjoyed our tryst, as I always do. However, I did make a previous commitment."

Her smile turned into a pout.

"Now, now, we shall get together again, Mirabelle." He fondled her earlobe, then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. "Until later."

This time, he strode down the corridor to meet the woman in order not to waste any time. Only eighty-nine minutes -- exactly -- remained to the intermission. His body demanded he find release...and soon.

Mirabelle watched JorVaal purposefully walk down the passageway. Although she shouldn't have been jealous, a touch of that emotion did constrict her heart. Damn! He'd almost agreed to spend this invigoration time with her. The words had hovered on his warm, teasing lips. So what happened?

She peered out into the distance and spotted a strangely dressed female hurrying toward JorVaal. Mirabelle widened her eyes. Not...not that Earther! Yes, of course it was. Who else would wear such an idiotic hat over and over again?

Clenching her hands into fists, Mirabelle pivoted and stormed away in the opposite direction. How could JorVaal possibly choose Sophia McLaren over her? The very idea of his strong hands stroking and pleasing that ragamuffin doll made Mirabelle gnash her teeth. She deliberately blotted out the more intimate details pertaining to coitus.

Her nails dug into the soft flesh of her palms. Damn the woman! Mirabelle was a realist, but now she had to admit that she was also vindictive. She did not like to lose. Right before he left her, an extraordinary gleam of interest had shown in his eyes -- interest in that off-world piece of garbage. Mirabelle couldn't take any chances. She was far too close to convincing him to breed with her. She couldn't allow his attention to wander.

Heading for the Uortzk sector of the compound, she formulated a plan. She hadn't asked for anything from the Uortzks in a long time, but now she needed their help. She'd go straight to the top and demand that Pent' take action on her behalf.

Ms. Sophia McLaren would soon find herself wishing that she had never left the archaic planet of Terra!

Sam hurried down the shiny grey corridor as fast as she could. She tried not to stand out in the crowd, which was pretty hard not to do with a Yankees' cap sitting squarely on her head. While all the people passing her did have a spring in their step, evidently running was something that just wasn't done. But she had to hurry, she was that late. It was really impolite to keep Fredd waiting.

She concentrated on keeping one foot in front of the other and refused to be distracted by the strange sights around her. Deep breaths fueled her motion. After leaving the Health Bureau, she'd gotten lost, of course. No surprise there. All these tunnels looked the same. All dim, sleek and impersonal. And no windows. In fact, ever since arriving, she hadn't had a glimpse of the outside.

Creepy. She scratched her upper arm and kept her vision focused ahead. How could these people stand being sequestered away like this? Like worms. Even the Health Bureau where Mart was having tests done was windowless -- no rooms with a view, no peepholes, nothing. She'd never experienced claustrophobia, but if she didn't get a chance to see at least some sky, she'd go nuts. This was like being buried alive.

Her heart thudded to keep up with her activity. Wiping away perspiration from her upper lip, she adjusted her cap again. Central Control was supposed to be ahead. Only a few more steps.

Without warning, a man stepped right in front of her. "Citizen...dear one, no need to continue your travels. Here I am."

Unfortunately, her own personal brakes weren't as effective as her reliable bicycle brakes back home. She bumped into whoever was foolish enough to block her way.

But circumstances demanded that she apologize. "Excuse me --"

Oh, good heavens! It was him; it was JorVaal 5 Lanquist. Of all people to literally run into!

As she caught her breath, she had a chance to look him over. His athletic physique was again enhanced in the form-fitted GCC uniform. When he folded his arms across his massive chest, each movement rippled the velvet-like material of his shirt. Powerful thigh muscles bulged from the close-weave fabric of his pants.

Heavens, the man was impressive, all right. And just as handsome as she remembered. But definitely not safe. She took a good step back from him.

"I, um, I do beg your pardon." Her upper lip, previously wiped, now beaded again with perspiration.

"No need, dear one." He smiled and took her elbow. "I do not hold your tardiness against you. Come, we still have eighty-five point four minutes to the interval."

His firm touch sent tingling sensations throughout her entire body. Pleasurable and alarming. But she could be firm as well. With her other hand, she disengaged her arm.

"I'm late, that's true. But my appointment is with Fredd Desilva, not you. If you will excuse me."

Ignoring the passersby's curious appraisals and JorVaal's surprised expression, she turned away intending to continue walking.

But he had other ideas. He gripped her upper arm, effectively stopping her movements, and her blood supply. "You are Fredd's friend?"

She tilted her head at JorVaal. "Yes. Is that so odd?"

Lines of concentration marred his high forehead. "You cannot mean you prefer to be with him over me."

His words were a statement, not a question. Of course it would have been terribly rude to laugh at his conceit, but his affronted expression sorely taxed her. She sucked in her cheeks instead. "He's my friend, and actually, to be perfectly frank, you and I haven't even been introduced."

He must have been aware that standing still in the middle of the corridor was attracting attention, although maybe he was used to people staring at him. Releasing her, he gestured for her to follow him. As the direction was the same as Central Control, she complied.

"Explain to me why being acquainted has anything to do with satisfying biological appetites," he demanded.

She glanced away to hide her smirk. Biological appetites! Another way to phrase making love. Her mirth now under control, she looked him in the eye. "For one thing, knowing the person you're eating with increases the chance to have a more stimulating conversation."

He mulled over her words. "Yes, that is true. So you go to dine with Fredd. That is good, however, I was referring to coitus."

She felt herself flush; she couldn't help it. Who was used to plain speaking about such a private topic? Certainly not her. And certainly not with an extremely attractive man no matter what his opinion of himself was.

She twisted her top button open. "Um, I would have to say the same thing, then. The better you know a person, the better the, um, relationship."

Goodness, did these people talk about everything so openly?

Thankfully, she spotted the doors for Central Control. Now she could escape! "Well, I have to go. Bye."

JorVaal blocked her way again. With his size, he was good at that.

Resigned, she sighed. "Now what?"

His pale blue eyes seemed to pierce a hole in her. "As I am in need of release, I shall accommodate you in this formal fashion." He inclined his head. "I am JorVaal 5 Lanquist." His silent "as if you didn't know" hung heavily in the air. "And now," he continued, "tell Fredd that you will dine with him after we are finished."

The nerve of the man! The laughter that she had been able to suppress before, now came tumbling out. JorVaal's steely glare quickly silenced her.

With her lips quivering, she managed to say, "But you don't know who I am, do you?"

Of course he didn't. She'd heard of JorVaal's distaste for "Earthers." She'd bet a cool million once he found out who she was, he'd treat her like she had the plague.

"Inform me, then. This game grows tedious."

"You're so right. It does. I am Sam McLaren. Pleased to meet you."

She held out her hand for him to shake.

After a second, he gripped it with his. "McLaren?" His deep voice held a note of uncertainty.

Heaven help her but she couldn't resist. "Yes, perhaps you've heard of me? Sophia Audrey McLaren. My brother Mart and I just arrived from Earth." She gave him a wide grin. "Nice little planet you have here, JorVaal."

His sallow complexion turned ghastly white and his jaw noticeably dropped.

As she neared the glass doors, they swished open. "Well, it's been fun talking with you. See you around."

It was only when the doors closed that she allowed herself to laugh again. If she lived to be two hundred, she'd never forget the look of pure outrage on the man's face.

"Oh, I've been bad!"

Seated inside a Xaspaar-style restaurant, Sam rested her elbows on the table and supported her head in her hands.

"You have, lass?" Fredd questioned. "Tell me about it."

She spooned out a bit of stuff in her dish that looked suspiciously like ice cream. Not that she didn't care for ice cream, but as the main course?

Instead of being cold on her tongue, it was warm. And the flavor was a combo of lettuce and bacon. "This really tastes good. What is it?"

Fredd smiled into his mug. "'Tis a native growth here. Takarry has the molecular structure of animal and plant. I dinna care for it." He waved his elongated hand. "Please continue about yer misdeed."

She downed another scoop. "I've made a powerful enemy, Fredd. Which, considering my status here with Mart, is an incredibly stupid thing to do."

She looked around for a diversion, but the communal restaurant, with its neat rows of tables, also didn't have windows to stare out at. But thankfully, in the center area stood some leafy trees that gave the restaurant a semblance of a garden. She didn't feel so entombed.

Most of the patrons were Humans. A few had different features like Fredd; two even had tails. She was more interested in the aliens, though. Sitting close to her was a man- sized being whose edges glowed translucent. And three tables down sat someone who was as covered with hair as a grizzly bear or lion -- definitely ferocious.

Fredd cleared his throat. "Lass?"

Oh well, she'd delayed the inevitable long enough. "Fredd, I'm sorry but I sort of insulted your mighty JorVaal."

"Did you?" A smile played about Fredd's thin lips. "I wish I'd overheard. What did you say to him?"

"Um, he assumed that I wanted to, you know, go to bed with him." She coughed away her embarrassment. "Of course, I had to turn him down. But, to be truthful, I could have been nicer. I...laughed in his face."

She glanced at Fredd to see his reaction. After all he was doing for her and Mart, at least she could have been civil to his boss. Sam frowned. She usually was considerate of other people. Why had she been so unkind to JorVaal?

Fredd's question was unexpected. "Did JorVaal know yer identity?"

Feeling the need to fidget, she rebuttoned her shirt button. "He didn't at first, but he certainly knows now." She still couldn't read Fredd. What on Earth was he thinking? "Should I apologize to him?" It seemed as though, since arriving here, she was always apologizing to someone.

He laughed his screechy laugh. "Great stars above, no! Am I wrong in saying that on Terra, his advances would land him a slap in the face?"

On their own, her lips curved up into a smile. "Something like that."

Fredd signaled to someone just entering the restaurant. Someone who resembled an accordion. Sam blinked hard at the approaching figure.

"No need fer concern then, Sophia. As one of the triumvirate, JorVaal's mission deals with respecting each member's culture, as long as it dinna impinge on another member. Although technically Terra dinna belong to the GCC the Human race does. JorVaal must acknowledge his error. The repentance needs to come from him."

Well, that would be a cold day in hell. There was no way JorVaal was going to offer an apology to her. That much she knew for certain.

The "accordion" stepped up to the table. But that really wasn't a very nice description, nor was it entirely accurate. The being standing before her was wide rather than tall. In fact, he/she only reached up to the tabletop. A small head complete with two eyes and a rosy mouth looked up at Sam. In between rumblings as the being took in air, he/she smiled at her.

"Sophia, you must be." He/she extended one of the four upper limbs.

Evidently a "hand" shake. Sam gingerly touched the fragile-looking appendage.

Fredd nodded with approval. "Sophia, I've mentioned you and yer sibling to Liisan. Aye, in fact, she first told me about you, before I left Xaspaar."

Before Sam could question him, he continued, "Liisan spawned on the planet Yeamon. Her race calls itself the Yeamonl."

"Yes, I remember you talked about the persuasive ways of the Yeamonl." Sam leaned closer to Fredd's friend. "How on...how in the world were you able to tell Fredd about me?"

Liisan's face pinkened while the truck of her body widened further. "Enlighten you one day, I will. For now, very pleased I am to meet you."

Fredd's thin lips broke into a grin. "I'll let you in on a secret. Sophia here has done the unthinkable. She has refused JorVaal!"

Oh dear. Sam's "sin" was going to haunt her for a long time to come. She toyed with the remaining takarry. "Well, I don't know him and...and the activity he suggested is very private and personal where I come from."

The Yeamonl shuffled back and forth by the table. Evidently she couldn't sit or stay still. "To explain, there is no need. A lesson due him, JorVaal has. In the stars, it is written."

All this talk about predestination was too heavy for Sam. Her butting heads with JorVaal was written in the stars? Heaven help us all.

Fredd finished the last bit on his fruit plate. "I must return to Central Control, my friends. Intermission marches toward closure. Sophia, Liisan needs to come with me."

He stood with his gaze, or his sun visors, now fixed on the Yeamonl. "Have you heard about the electromagnetic radiation from the Uortzk binary star?"

"Yes. Strong and clear are thought patterns emanating from JorVaal. Also about the black hole." Liisan stretched her body until she was at least six inches taller.

Sam flushed. Liisan was telepathic? No doubt JorVaal also had strong and clear thoughts about his recent unflattering defeat.

Fredd gave a mock tug on Sam's sports cap. "I deplore leaving you alone, lass. Have you a destination where you can spend the rest of the day until Martin leaves the care facilities? Shall I assign you an escort?"

She didn't want to worry Fredd. And his body fairly vibrated to be gone. "Oh no, I'll be fine. I'll probably go visit the chickens. Never thought I'd ever be missing them."

It was hard to believe that Mart'd had the audacity to stow them away to begin with. But then again, knowing Mart, anything was possible. At least this escapade of his had ended happily.

Liisan released a supply of air. "Talk we will, later."

She and Fredd left the restaurant, causing Sam to shake her head. She had never seen such an unusual couple.

Now alone at the table, she scanned the eating area again. Although the ceiling reached up an additional level, she still felt the walls closing in on her. Unbuttoning her top button, she stood. One way or another, she was determined to find a way out of this complex and finally get to breathe some fresh air.

Before Fredd spoke, he waited until the corridor was free of people. "So what do you think of our lass, Liisan?"

"An unnecessary question, Fredd. Plays the lyre, does she not?"

After his affirmative answer, Liisan emitted a long breath. "The very one, she is. Events are unfolding as predicted to me. Savior of the galaxy will be Sophia McLaren."

He halted in his tracks. "Ach, wait a minute now. I dinna know anything about saving the galaxy! You mentioned the Ancients -- though, bless me, I've nary heard a word about such a group. The Ancients, you said, instructed you to tell me about a soulmate for JorVaal. And off I went, not knowing where exactly I was headed."

Savior of the galaxy. Certainly a bone-chilling thought. Was the Milky Way in danger? Could this new information concerning hard gamma ray radiation have anything to do with it? Were Pent' and the Uortzks involved?

Liisan allowed him his tirade. She could be as patient as an angel. "What happened then?"

This was the strange part. It was difficult for him to explain. "Somehow, once I left the confines of this solar system, I knew where to go. Just as I knew, when talking with Martin, that his sister was the one I searched fer."

"That is the Ancients' way."

"But --" as Fredd was about to elaborate further, another Human entered the junction tube. The interruption was just as well. JorVaal didn't tolerate lateness.

As the muscular person passed, he bowed his head to greet Liisan, but lifted his lip upward in a sneer at Fredd. "Damned bat larvae," the man muttered, continuing down the corridor.

Liisan placed one of her upper limbs on Fredd's arm. Her soft hissing showed her concern. "Apologize I do for that being's bad manners."

Fredd flushed, then jammed his hands into his tight, uniform pockets. If he let his arms roam free, he feared he would run after the man and punch him silly. "You dinna have to apologize fer that sorra blighter. I've no care for myself, but fer Iris, I worra about these people's prejudice against GAHs."

Peculiar that bigotry was present at all in this day and age. At least other life forms didn't suffer from Humans' intolerance for physical differences. Only genetically altered Humans bore the brunt of this ugly behavior.

"This will change, perhaps one day." Liisan's wheezing sounded sad.

"Aye, anyway the blasted man's showing his ignorance. We Alvitans dinna hatch like insects. Most likely, he failed his biology studies."

Satisfied that he'd made his point, Fredd escorted Liisan inside Central Control. Still, the insult hurt like hell.

CHAPTER SIX

JorVaal looked up from the systems console at his two friends just returning from intermission. "You are late." The statement came out in a growl rather than his normally neutral tone.

He frowned. Repressed emotions had divergent ways of escaping. Anger was one of them, but that was inexcusable behavior. He did not intend to subject his companions to his frustrations.

Instead of taking offense, Fredd and Liisan exchanged barely concealed expressions of amusement. Without a doubt, that...woman must have told Fredd about what had happened. As for Liisan, when she wished, she could skim the surface thoughts of his mind. Blast! But what was done, was done. Humiliation aside, he had more important things to be concerned with. Much more important.

He cleared an area next to him and nodded when Fredd sat down. "More information has been gathered on Rama's energy flux. Analysis reveals the internal fusion of hydrogen atoms into helium has been accelerating at an alarming rate."

"What?" Fredd grabbed the armrests, obviously intending to rocket out of the chair.

JorVaal could not blame his deputy's strong reaction. He himself had gone over the statistics at least five times in the past half hour.

"Yes, I know, Fredd. This is impossible for a star of only seven million years -- and yet it is happening. But there is something even more alarming."

Pausing, JorVaal took a sip of refreshing water. He could have used a stronger drink. "As we suspected, there is a black hole in the theta quadrant. A primordial black hole that has been present since the creation of the universe. Its now tiny size and mass are such that it is about to radiate itself out of existence."

The leathery skin on Fredd's face went slack. "Ach, man! So the hole's responsible fer the increased gamma rays. And if it's about to wink out of existence then..."

JorVaal finished the sentence. "Then the final stage of its evaporation will proceed swiftly. We can expect a tremendous explosion."

Which was phrasing it much too mildly. The energy released would most likely produce an explosion equivalent to one quadrillion old-time megaton hydrogen bombs. That, coupled with Rama's unstable condition could very well produce a shock wave the size of which only theorists could speculate on.

"A cataclysmic event," Liisan slowly hissed. "To the Uortzks and other life entities in Cygnus sector, what does this mean?"

"Inevitable annihilation." JorVaal was blunt. "Perhaps to the rest of us here near the Core as well."

Liisan's gasp went unnoticed in the wake of activity performed by Central Control's busy staff.

Only Fredd reacted to the Yeamonl's dismay by patting one of her upper limbs. But then, he whispered something peculiar. He said, "Savior of the galaxy."

"Pardon me?" JorVaal waited for his deputy to elaborate, but Fredd only shrugged.

"Not to worra too much, Liisan," Fredd soothed. "We've options. We can take steps to prevent this catastrophe."

JorVaal agreed. "Indeed, I have called an emergency Council meeting to take place tomorrow at sunrise, after services. Since Pent' and his faction have not brought this situation to the GCC's attention, then it is up to me. Rama's variable status certainly cannot wait until next month's conference."

"I support you." Fredd placed his flattened palm over his heart.

"As do I, also," Liisan wheezed solemnly.

"My thanks to you both. Now I must --"

A beep on the systems console broke through their communications. "Mighty JorVaal," a male voice squawked, "a security breach has occurred near Janus gate number twelve. Awaiting instructions."

"Acknowledged, citizen." Pressing a series of tactile sensitive buttons, JorVaal ordered, "Viewer on."

Fredd drummed his bony fingers. "Gate twelve overlooks the Great Helena mountain range and Dry Gulch Volcano."

"That is correct. And now, we shall see who has trespassed outside. As we are all aware, everything one can desire is contained within the complex's walls. There can be no need to journey out into the wilderness."

Responding to the order, the viewer screen set inside the console blinked awake. As JorVaal watched, the camera lens scanned a fertile area containing many tall, bushy trees at the base of the mountains. Natural motion was everywhere. Xaspaar's sharp winds demanded the trees pay homage, causing them to bend and wave their leafy branches. Even the late afternoon sky was caught up in the frenetic activity: spiral, alabaster clouds raced across the expanse of cerulean blue.

Movement from a life form stopped the camera's survey. A slightly built Human, probably female, now sat down on an outcrop of igneous rock.

"Sharpen," JorVaal commanded to refine the blurry picture.

With crystal clarity, a navy-blue sports cap came into focus along with the rest of that blasted woman's body.

"By all the stars, it is that...Earther!" JorVaal jumped up, brushing aside Fredd's restraining hand.

"JorVaal, you must listen. I claim responsibility fer Sophia McLaren's actions. I haven't had time to give her an orientation to the complex. She dinna know all the rules. And she has no idea permission must be granted to go outside." Fredd's voice, usually high-pitched, sounded an octave lower.

Liisan gestured assent. "Yes, no devious motives, I sense."

JorVaal unclenched his fists, then pulled on his earlobe. An excessive display of emotion was never conducive to one's peace and serenity. Why was he so out of touch with himself? Just because he had missed one biological coupling? He could easily remedy that later this evening.

But the woman -- perhaps she was ignorant of Xaspaar's rules. He would make allowances for her this time. Never let it be said that he was not merciful. She was a puny soul, at best. When he had gripped her arm, instead of healthy muscle mass beneath his fingers, he found in its place soft, pliable flesh. Very strange.

Indeed, her intelligence was also at fault. She did not recognize the honor he had wished to bestow her. He magnanimously inclined his head.

"So be it. I shall assign a guard to collect the woman and instruct her on the error of her ways."

An inexplicable need to look at the viewer consumed him and he gazed at it again. The woman had a strange "U" shaped object in her hands and seemed to be plucking the center of it. What the devil was she doing? Without warning, all thoughts of forgiveness vanished. Coming into range on the screen was a massive, woolly creature. The others might have had a difficult time in identifying the being, but JorVaal knew by the low brow and definite overbite: it was his arch-nemesis, Pent'.

Heart rate up, JorVaal inhaled deeply as if preparing for battle. "So, your Earther friend is acquainted with our most exalted Pent'. How very interesting...and peculiar."

"She must've met the Uortzk by chance, JorVaal," Fredd protested.

JorVaal lifted his eyebrow. "What do you say, Liisan?"

Her small body stretched out to its widest position. "Concur."

"As of late, chance has been playing a heavy hand with us." He pulled down the edge of his tunic shirt and brushed back the sides of his hair. "I shall personally collect this Sophia McLaren and inform her, in no uncertain terms, of both the inadvisability of leaving the complex confines and associating with our esteemed GCC colleague."

To ensure his privacy in the upcoming confrontation, JorVaal evoked tribunal privilege by blacking out viewer transmissions. Even for him, having numerous pairs of eyes watching and evaluating his every movement was a bit daunting.

Although Fredd and Liisan wished to alter his course of action, JorVaal waved them into silence. With an ominous glance toward his intended direction, he spoke sharply through clenched teeth. "Until I return."

He was going to thoroughly enjoy verbally lambasting this unrefined provincial from planet Terra.

Sam plucked the last note of her song, then placed her hand over the lyre's seven strings to still their vibrations. After such a long abstinence, playing music again touched her soul. Even her eyes misted as she sang. Silly sentimentalist!

But the atmosphere here on Xaspaar was favorable to sentimental thoughts. Fleecy, milk-white clouds heavily dotted dazzling blue skies. No buildings other than the huge complex disturbed the skyline. It was big sky country. She almost could have been on Earth, perhaps in the wilds of Montana, for a chain of rugged mountains, rich with jagged edges and crystalline boulders majestically rose to the rear of her. In the distance, set apart from the others, stood an even larger mountain. Its peak was topped with blindingly bright white snow -- pure and untouched by the life forms below.

Around her were the most amazing tree growths. Reaching high as if to touch the sky stood a fragile forest of trees whose leaves seemed to be made of mint-green paper. Never still the leaves danced and whispered as winds rustled through the forest. Even the clouds cavorted in the sky. Motion was everywhere. It was absolutely beautiful.

Surrounding the jagged rock on which she sat were strange oval-shaped crimson plants -- flowers? Their jasmine-like scent delighted her senses. Touching one, she marveled at its silky yet furry texture.

This was like the garden of paradise.

A tear of contentment slid down her cheek, so she blinked rapidly to drive away the wetness. Now composed, she looked over at her new friend.

"I can't thank you enough for showing me the way outside, Pent'. And for waiting while I got the lyre. Oh, I love it out here!"

Pent', a GCC member from Uortzk, as he had explained, sat stiffly on an opposite rock and stared at her. Or rather, his golden gaze was unblinking, so maybe he didn't intend to stare. But in any case, she felt a prickle of unease raise the tiny hairs on her neck.

Then again, who wouldn't have been just a tad bit apprehensive with such a formidable new friend. Pent's head was twice the size of hers and it was covered in a golden orange blaze of long, woolly fur. In fact, only his fur moved in the wind. The rest of him remained as a statue.

"Um, Pent'?"

He bestirred himself, stretching as a lion might in the waning rays of the Xaspaar sun. "We also relish the out-of-doors. To our knowledge, Humans show no interest in anything but their feeble caves made of steel and concrete. Why are you different?" He growled his comments, but maybe the gruff tone was natural for him. "Another question, why did you seek out our companionship, Lady?"

A sharper wind barreled through the trees and yanked on her sports cap. She pulled the hat down tighter. For some reason, he refused to call her by her name. "Why shouldn't I have asked directions from you? This complex is an awful lot like a maze. I was tired of wandering around. No one else responded to my question, so I asked you."

And not only hadn't anyone responded, but every single person gave her the strangest look, as if going outside was tantamount to jumping off a cliff.

"Also, you were so kind as to personally escort me." Sam smiled. "I'm glad I asked you."

Pent' shook his massive head. "You are not like the other Humans. Again, why are you different?"

She plucked a harmonious chord on the lyre. The wind rushed in again, robbing her of warmth and the musical sound. It was getting late. Time to return to the "dungeon." Perhaps Mart was back from the Health Bureau.

"Different? Well, I suppose it's because I'm from off-world." She had the impression that Pent' wouldn't care two figs about which planet was her home, unlike contemptuous JorVaal and Mirabelle, so Sam added, "From Earth."

"Terra," Pent' breathed in and out heavily, causing the silver metals adorning his upper garment to rise and fall. The medallions dully glistened in the dying sunlight. "We were not aware of that. Humankind's home world. Interesting."

Maybe it was interesting to him, but Sam could find a zillion other things more fascinating. She stood. "Well, it's been nice meeting you, but now I've got to get back -- "

To her left, a voice interrupted. "An intimate, secluded, and forbidden rendezvous. How very enlightening."

Sam whirled around. The image of JorVaal 5 Lanquist reluctantly emblazoned itself onto her retina. Darn! Hands on hips, he was a study in righteous rage. His full lips were lifted in a sneer while his cool blue eyes seemed to mock her.

Suddenly, she zipped across time to when she had been seven, caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Different ages but same defensive reaction.

Pent' stood to his impressive height. "Greetings, mighty JorVaal. What brings you outside to the open air?"

JorVaal slightly inclined his head. "Well met, most exalted Pent'. I might ask the same question of you."

What was going on here? These two men fairly bristled with antagonism over what - - taking a temporary break from the complex's cold bleak walls?

Sam shifted her gaze from one to the other. No. Some longtime animosity simmered between the Uortzk and the Human. But what?

The skies, so brilliantly blue before, now darkened with the coming night. As did her mood. Her previous enjoyment of the day had been wrenched away by JorVaal's obvious disapproval.

With a hairy paw, Pent' gestured in her direction. "We have been entertained by this enchanting young lady's talent, both in singing and playing. We find her most accomplished." He then took her free hand and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Why, thank you, Pent'. I --"

"Enchanting, is she?" JorVaal pulled her away, which caused her to lose her balance and stumble on the jagged rock. When the brim of her cap hit the stone, it flew off her head, landing at her feet.

JorVaal reached down to fetch it. "My apologies, Sophia, for this mishap. You are so slight, I miscalculated the force..."

His gaze met hers. For one long second, she was suspended in time -- lost in his magnetic presence.

JorVaal's brows then lowered, meeting at the bridge of his hawk sharp nose. Extreme displeasure radiated from him.

She dusted the seat of her pants. Why was he annoyed? She was the one who fell. Shaking her head, she stopped short. A long tendril of hair had escaped from her makeshift bun.

Oh, good heavens! He knows. I hope this doesn't mean I have to cut my hair.

Pent' intervened. "You have the manners of a Brhite, JorVaal." The Uortzk then fingered her renegade hair with his thick, clawed finger. "We approve of natural length tresses, unlike those born here on Xaspaar."

Sam held out her hand for the cap. All this touching was giving her the willies. But back to the showdown with JorVaal -- she'd go down fighting on this issue.

He relinquished the hat, but the frown still marred his lips.

She defiantly brushed back her hair, then settled the cap back on her head. After tucking in the loose strands, she said, "I accept your apology, however Fredd informed me that another apology over a certain earlier matter is also due me."

"Indeed?" JorVaal raked her with his gaze -- and his gaze was formidable, to say the very least. "Perhaps this is not the place. Come inside with me." He crooked his elbow, intending for her to take his arm.

Not more touching of strangers! She took a step backwards.

"JorVaal," Pent's strident voice boomed out. "You must allow the young lady her freedom."

JorVaal laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound. "What I must or must not allow is up to me, most exalted Pent'. As triumvirate leader for Humans, it is so written, as it is with you and your own people. To use your antiquated, gallant phrase, this 'young lady' is in dire need of guidance pertaining to acceptable Xaspaar behavior."

Sam didn't care for the tone in his voice. "But I --"

For the third time, he interrupted her. "Enough words, dear one. We shall discuss this in private."

His term of affection was at odds with the grim line of his lips.

Pent's golden eyes narrowed. "Surely you do not intend to instruct her yourself."

"I am far too busy for such trifles, as you are aware. Indeed, tomorrow morning's Council meeting demands my attention, although this cannot be news to you, of all people. Perhaps you would care to discuss Rama's status right now?"

The Uortzk slit the air with his paw. Evidently that was a negative answer.

JorVaal gave a slight, cynical bow. "So, Pent', until tomorrow. Sophia, you will accompany me now."

She considered disobeying him, but quickly dismissed the rebellious urge. She was in enough hot water as it was. Swallowing her pride, she allowed him to tuck her hand inside his crooked arm, although why he wished to travel as a pair was a mystery to her.

They both stepped onto the path that returned to the complex, then waited as Pent' spoke again.

"Perhaps the young lady would join me at next intermission?"

She felt the hard stiffening of JorVaal's upper arm muscle. So, he disapproved. Being contrary, her decision was made. "Why, yes, I'd love to dine with you, Pent'."

She didn't have to look at JorVaal to feel his heated glare burning a hole right through her.

Before reaching Janus gate number twelve, JorVaal took one last inhalation of refreshing, unpurified air. He filled his lungs, savoring the faintly scented oxygen, and was strangely reluctant to exhale. If he could but linger here, out-of-doors, and explore the wonders of Xaspaar's natural bounty.

But the granite head of Janus protecting the gateway loomed large. JorVaal had no time to squander on his own personal preferences. Indeed, in addition to his regular duties and responsibilities, it seemed he had inadvertently taken on another obligation.

He glanced at the woman trying to keep up with his bruising pace. Sophia McLaren's cheeks were reddened with her exertions, and the rise and fall of her chest showed her struggle to get enough air. Not that the atmosphere was thin at this altitude. No, Sophia McLaren obviously did not have bodily strength. In fact, "soft" was an appropriate word to describe her. Both times he had physical contact with the woman, the pliability of her touch had startled him. Where were the sleek, powerful muscles so common to all the women he knew? Where was the vigor, stamina, and firmness that comprised all females?

He shook his head, perplexed. The only woman that was as weak as Sophia was his dear great, great grandmother. In spirit, Old Nona could be hard as iron, but physically she was just skin and bones. Then again, at age one hundred and eighty seven, there was no need for Nona to be a warrior.

Which led his thoughts back to the woman by his side. Was this the kind of woman that Terra bred: petite, soft, and shallow? The sight of her hair looping out of the sports cap caused him to frown. Disobedient, also. Fredd must have told her about the ordinance against long hair.

At the gate, she stopped to peer at the carving of Janus' impassive visage.

Her dallying annoyed him. Everything about her annoyed him. She was not, nor could she ever be a citizen of Xaspaar.

"Come," he ordered. "I have consumed too much valuable time on this little escapade of yours. I need to return to the Control Center while you must become indoctrinated in our ways and customs."

She ignored him. Instead of doing as she should, she lifted herself on her toes to touch the greyish stone lips. She then spun around, a wide smile on her mischievous face.

"This is Janus, isn't it? One of the Roman gods?" Not waiting for his reply, she inspected the carving's spiral curls which denoted hair. The waves in the stone sparkled with crystalline flakes, almost like highlights.

Her enthusiasm was not contagious. JorVaal frowned at the twinkle in her deep brown eyes and detested the shiver of excitement that quivered through her thin frame. After all, what merited this emotion, a slab of rock?

"Janus is what it is. No more, no less." JorVaal took her arm again, wincing at the yielding feel of her. Keeping Nona in mind, he loosened his grip.

"But you are wrong!"

The woman had no more compulsion in disagreeing with his words than she did in refusing to share his bed. Unthinkable! The sooner he rid himself and the Core of this "young lady" to use Pent's odd phrase, the better off everyone would be.

"Come inside, Sophia." Perhaps the arduous journey through many wormholes had slightly unhinged her mind. He really should be merciful. She did have an engaging way about her. "I shall assign an instructor so you can learn more --"

"You can't bear to be wrong, can you?" Somehow she slipped out from his grasp and pointed to the setting sun. "See? Janus is the god of doors and gateways. He's facing west to see the end of the day. This is west, right?"

He nodded.

"Are there gates with his image on the eastern gates of the complex?"

"That is correct." Persistence seemed to be one of her character traits.

"What about north and south?"

He was beginning to lose his patience -- again. "The complex does not have gateways on those sides."

"There, you see? The Roman Janus greets the beginning and the end of each day."

Did any of this useless information have value? "I must insist you accompany me now. With an impending disaster looming in the Cygnus sector, I have no time for frivolous conversation with you."

Lips pinched together, he finally escorted her inside. By all the stars, he had never met such an infuriating woman. But to be truthful, he was also irked with his apparent ignorance of these so-called Romans. No member of the GCC used that name, nor did any known planet in the galaxy. Yet Sophia claimed to have knowledge of Romans...and Janus. Distasteful as it was, he would have to look into the history of the matter.

Stepping into the purification booth to rid himself of harmful Xaspaar microbes, JorVaal signaled for her to enter with him.

"What is this?" she questioned. She left her musical instrument on the ground, then joined him in the small glass enclosure.

At least she had obeyed this time. At close range, he could detect her faint flowery scent. Lilacs. How peculiar. Nona also favored that fragrance. Without his conscious consent, desire hardened his loins.

The silent, dry-liquid neutralizing spray covered them both, as was its job.

"What -- !" Sophia had to quickly close her mouth.

In spite of himself, he grinned. The surprised expression on her face was priceless.

Evidently some of the spray worked its way into her mouth, for she wrinkled her nose and wiped her lips. When the treatment stopped, she asked, "What on Earth was that for?"

He sobered his expression and helped her out of the enclosure. Odd thing how her tiny hand was lost in his. "This is one important reason never to go outside without authorization. Certain weather conditions favor detrimental microorganisms. Without the neutralizing spray, sickness within the complex would run rampant."

She reclaimed her hand and he was loath to admit missing the smoothness of her skin.

"If you are to remain here, Sophia, you must abide by our rules."

He waited. Although only knowing her for a short while, he anticipated her protest. She did not disappoint him.

"But I'm not staying for any great length of time. Only until Mart gets well. Please, I really don't have to cut my hair, do I?"

Batting her long lashes, she looked up at him, pleading with her enigmatic eyes. Her oval face, fine-grained complexion, and ridiculous navy sports cap, all vividly swam in front of him. As if he had never known sexual longing before, the discomfort of denied passion hit him with subspace force.

Perhaps Sophia would reconsider her decision concerning coitus? He looked down into her guileless face. No ardor-inspired fires burned within her. No needs other than her one question spoiled her innocent, uncomplicated thoughts. He groaned. Before turning in for the night, he would have to work off his frustration in the gym.

"JorVaal?" Even her musical voice disturbed his equilibrium.

He abruptly turned from her and strode down the corridor. Without looking, he knew she was panting to keep up. "As triumvirate leader for Humans, I might be able to make an exception in your case."

"Could you? That's wonderful! I'd be so very grate --"

He suddenly stopped walking, which caused her to bump into him. Setting her back on her feet was like straightening a paper-tree; she had no bulk whatsoever.

"I said I might be able to. You have no cause to feel grateful." He glowered at her.

But she smiled right back. "Oh, but I am appreciative of your time."

His "harumph" indelicately expressed his feelings.

Continuing on their way, Sophia added, "You know, the fact that GCC's government is a triumvirate is also an indication of Roman influence. Don't you remember the first triumvirate, with Pompey, Julius Caesar, and Marcus Crassus back in 60 BC?"

Turning down the correct corridor, JorVaal eyed the Control Center doors like long lost friends. "I do not know what the devil you are talking about. Now if you will but stay here for one moment, I shall assign an instructor to educate you. And your brother, if you like."

An instructor was a diplomatic term to describe a security guard.

Again, she had a reply for him. "Iris Desilva has kindly offered to help us. There's no need for you to trouble yourself on our behalf."

"So be it then." He halted in front of the glass doors and gestured to several staff members engrossed in their work. "As you can see the situation here is extremely tense. We have no time for games nor foolish notions of things long since past."

Inclining his head, he walked through the now-open doors. "Most likely our paths will not cross again. Farewell, Sophia McLaren, and good appetites."

His last two words were said with great irony. How could this woman ever experience good appetites with her biological urges? Indeed, in one of the most important areas of life, he surmised that she had no personal knowledge at all. If he were a betting man, he'd bet a year's pay that the highly desirable Sophia McLaren was a damn, blasted virgin.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mart woke up with a start. Wiping off sweat that dripped from his forehead, he glanced around the coldly sterile room. Where was he and how did he get here?

"Martin? Thank the stars you've come back! What a scare you gave me," a female voice said.

He narrowed his gaze to focus on the seated figure by his bed. The room was barely lit by his standards, but the gleaming sheen from Iris Desilva's apple red hair couldn't be missed. Memory returned to him. He lay like an invalid on a bed in Xaspaar City's Health Bureau.

Slugs! Iris' endless blue eyes looked at him with great compassion...or pity. Embarrassment stabbed him right through the heart. He liked her -- more than he ever liked anyone before. Why did she have to see him like this?

More roughly than he intended, he growled, "You're still here?"

"Oh, but of course. How could I leave with your well-being so verra uncertain?" As she leaned closer, blinking back unshed tears, her young pixie face grew pinched with anxiety. "'Tis a terrible disease fer you to have, Martin. Can the physicians promise a complete cure?"

By the comets, he hated pity! Especially hers. Men were supposed to be strong, not weaker than a newly born foal. What must she think of him?

Sitting up, he fluffed his pillow, then punched it. "The docs can promise anythin'. Whether it's the truth or not..." He shrugged.

Actually, he had to admit that the doctors were pretty encouraging. At the consult, they stated that with proper treatment the probability of him returning to normal was eighty three point two percent. That was when it happened. He'd gotten so excited at the news -- bam! The synapses in his brain went full tilt, causing him to turn into a zombie.

And Iris had to be there to see him like that. Life just wasn't fair, was it? He glanced at her. A tear slid down her sweetly curved cheek. Frustration built inside him. He punched the pillow again. Damn!

"Hey, it's not so bad. But what do you know about anythin'? You're just a kid."

"Am I now?" She stood and folded her arms across that womanly chest of hers. "Well then, I dinna mean to trouble you with my youthful presence. Especially since you claim so many years to yer own age."

Aw geez, he'd stuck his foot in it this time. "Don't go, Iris. I'm sorry --"

"I'm sorra too. Sorra fer wasting my tears on you. You've no need for the likes of me, I'm sure."

She was a quick little thing. He reached out to grab her arm but she'd already dashed past the bed.

"Farewell, Martin McLaren. Or as they say here on Xaspaar, good appetites." The door swished closed behind her.

Well, hell! He'd alienated the one person he wished to get to know better. How was he going to rectify his latest mistake?

The door opened again. "Iris?"

Instead of his slim friend, a well-rounded staff member entered carrying a clipboard. "Excellent, you have recovered, Martin McLaren. Console readings indicate you were insensate for thirty-two minutes.

The woman's moon-shaped face was wreathed in a smile. For some reason, this annoyed Mart. "Actually thirty-two point six minutes."

She looked up at him. "Point six? Can that be? But how would you know?" Her smooth forehead wrinkled.

A second later, she laughed. He was treated to the sight of her breasts, evidently loose beneath her tunic top, shaking with her amusement.

"Oh, I understand. A joke! Very good, Martin McLaren."

"Yeah, thanks. So when do I get out of this fishbowl?"

He'd thrown her for a loop on that one. Cocking her head, she pointed her writing implement at him. "Fishbowl. Aquatic vertebrates swimming in water. Small container. Glass. Always on display." Her almond eyes lit up. "I get the connection now!"

She flashed a brilliant smile at him, gave him the once-over, then sat down on the bed. "Perhaps tomorrow you and I could share intermission time?"

Mart thumped his hand on his chest and inadvertently coughed. He'd heard about intermission time. Not that he was against sexual pleasure, but he was used to doing the pursuing himself. And by the comets, he didn't even know this woman's name.

Not that she wasn't very enticing. But, then again, she lacked short red hair and a spritely smile and her name wasn't Iris.

"Uh, that would be a great idea, only...let's postpone it until my treatment gets underway. After all, if I had an attack while we were, er, making it, you'd probably think you killed me."

Again, the woman mulled over his words. "Right! You are the absolute center!"

Whatever that was.

She jabbed at his arm, which made him wince at the force of her blow.

"Of course, we will reschedule our copulation until later." She smiled again. "I look forward to it."

The tips of his ears burned hot. No girl on Earth was ever that blunt.

As she walked to the bedstand, he couldn't help noticing her seductive sway. She then turned around, business-like again. "This will be the only night you are required to spend at the Bureau, Martin McLaren. After tomorrow's session with the physicians, you will be free to return to your quarters. Now I must administer a sedative so your beta waves can be recorded."

"Fine." He could use the sleep. He was tired of being class clown. Apparently, it didn't take much to amuse these people.

The injection didn't hurt. Immediately, intense drowsiness washed over him. He heard rather than saw the door open.

"Mart? Oh, Mart, how are you? They told me you had to stay."

It was Sam. Slugs, he wanted to talk to her but that sedative was a doozy. His damn eyelids refused to do anything but stay closed.

His would-be seductress answered in his place. "Martin McLaren is scheduled to sleep now. The effects of the drug will not wear off until tomorrow morning."

His sister was as disappointed as he was. "Well, that's okay. I'll just sit down here and keep him company."

He felt Sam slide her hand into his. A brief smile lifted his lips.

"That is most irregular," came his temptress' voice. "However, if you insist, I suppose it can be allowed."

"Oh, I insist all right."

Mart sighed and surrendered up to dreamland. With Sam by his side, he had nothing to worry about.

Awakening early was usual for JorVaal, but at the wee hour of three forty two in the morning, he should still be sleeping. As he was not, there was no point to remaining in bed. His mind had dropped the stupor of sleep and was now busily organizing the upcoming events.

He sighed. Whether he wanted to or not, his body pushed him to begin the day. And this day promised to be a demanding one to say the very least. He rose, stretched his back, then walked to the receiving area's window to look out at the hazy starlit night. Legend had it that Xaspaar's night could be likened to one of Terra's foggy days. Total darkness was unknown here. Positioned so close to the galactic core the planet's twilight skies could boast of illumination by an infinity of stars.

In the distance, Dry Gulch, the area's dormant volcano, presided over the starry splendor -- a view only he was privileged to see. No other quarters in the complex contained a window to the outside.

His left biceps muscle signaled pain, protesting the vigorous workout from the evening before. JorVaal massaged his shoulder and contemplated using the vibro-chair. The sun would not rise for another ninety-nine minutes; there was plenty of time to soothe away his soreness.

He swung away from the window. No. Something had disturbed him on an unconscious level. Disturbed him so deeply that he had awakened from a slumber sound enough to withstand the launching of the GCC fleet.

Barefooted, he headed for the cleansing room and the shower stall. Under a hot stream of water, he methodically isolated his discontent. It was that woman, that Sophia McLaren.

He had researched the topic of the antiquated Romans that she had so blithely prattled about yesterday. From Central Control's computers, he had learned more about Rome than he ever wanted to know. It had come as a great surprise to find out that Xaspaar's Core structure was linked with an ancient civilization long since dust on planet Terra. Coincidence, it could not be. Everything that Sophia had said was true.

However, the big question remained. Why had the architects for the Galactic Core Coalition felt the need to tie Humankind's future to an obscure religion rich with multiple gods? Janus in particular.

Janus. Janus was a two-headed god.

The one person alive who might have some of the answers he sought was his great, great grandmother. Indeed, Nona was the oldest living Human on Xaspaar. Wife to the first JorVaal, she always could tell fantastic tales much clouded by the mists of time, if he ever cared to listen. He hadn't before, but he cared to listen now. Suiting up in his GCC uniform, JorVaal strode purposefully down empty corridors to the Health Bureau. At age one hundred and eighty seven, there was little wonder that Nona needed to reside within its restricted confines.

Entering the germ-free greeting area, he brushed aside the duty staff's declarations of surprise.

"Mighty JorVaal," said one nubile administrator, a smile brightening her broad- cheeked face. "We at the Health Bureau are honored with your presence."

The young woman looked familiar. He probably had chosen her as a partner several weeks ago. Resting his elbow on the antiseptic counter, he focused his gaze on her.

"Dear one, I am here to visit Nona Lanquist. What is her status?"

One did not readily admit to familial connections even though all the Core knew of his relationship to the aged woman.

"I shall check for you, sir." The woman pivoted from him to consult the computer console. As she did, her short, dark hair shone with almost blue highlights. Strange thing though, as dark as her hair was, it wasn't as deeply vivid as Sophia's.

The woman returned. "Nona's alpha rhythms indicate that she is awake and relaxed. Shall I announce you?"

Nona detested having her brain waves recorded. An invasion of her privacy, she always declared. But at her age, all her bodily systems had to be monitored. How else would the staff know if any of her life-sustaining processes had failed?

JorVaal held up his hand. "No. I wish to see her reaction to my visit. Is she still located on the eleventh level?"

"Yes, sir. As is the Human from Terra, Martin McLaren."

JorVaal lifted his eyebrow. "I was under the impression that the Earther had quarters elsewhere."

"He does, mighty JorVaal. Physicians wished to observe his beta waves for this night."

The administrator then did an extremely odd thing: she giggled. "Martin McLaren is such a joker! He has become one of my favorites."

A favorite. JorVaal tightened his lips. With such a blood relation as Sophia, the Earther should have been an unwelcome addition to the Bureau.

Sounding more curt than he intended, JorVaal took his leave. "My thanks for your time, citizen."

The pneumatic conveyor deposited him on the eleventh level. Again, he motioned aside the duty staff's astonishment. He turned left down the corridor to Nona's quarters, but before reaching his destination, he passed by the Earther's observation room. Curiosity stayed his movements. The hour was still indecently early. Here was a chance to assess the man without his knowledge. Yes, JorVaal would indulge his quest for information. And that was all it was, nothing more.

The door slid open before him. His rank yielded him this advantage over all doors housing any member of the Human race. The room lay in unnatural darkness. Either the pinpoint lights dotting the floor's pathways had failed or they had been deliberately turned off.

Unused to such murkiness, JorVaal stumbled into an object. "What the blasted -- ?"

It was a chair, pulled into the lane of traffic at the base of the bed. Night vision, an attribute long denied, was now put to good use. He peered down at the figure curled into the small seat, then withheld his gasp of surprise.

The figure was Sophia, of course. Her knees bent to her chest, she slept in a rolled up position. Her long hair splayed out over her attractive face and tumbled down the armrest. He caught his breath again. Truth be told, he had never seen a Human female with lengthy tresses. The sight of her was pleasing, and yet he could not determine why his senses were reacting so strangely. She must have been uncomfortable, sleeping as a domestic cat might, curved into a small ball. All this inconvenience for what, to keep her sibling company? Such family devotion was...peculiar.

Once more, an odd and unidentified emotion hammered within him.

He turned away from her to look at the person who inspired her altruistic behavior. Lying on the bed was a moderately tall individual, inexperienced in years. In repose, the youth had a childish cast to his face -- a face that was covered with slight marks.

JorVaal looked closer. Now his night vision served him in good stead. Sophia's sibling had freckles! By the stars, freckles were almost as rare as having dark hair.

The boy appeared healthy enough, but Fredd had mentioned Martin sought treatment for a medical condition. What was wrong with him?

JorVaal pressed the mute button on the medical chart, then typed in his request about the boy's condition. The chart flashed the answer: Beta-Siwinski Disease.

He gave a low whistle. This particular disease robbed the body of all non-basic functions, essentially placing the person in a catatonic state. The length of these episodes varied, however even one minute suffering its effects was like a day spent in hell. Small wonder that Martin and Sophia had braved the arduous trip from Terra to obtain a cure.

JorVaal glanced at her huddled form. His respect for her increased tenfold.

As if she sensed his nearness, she shifted in her sleep. It would not do for her to awaken and find him in the room. Although he did have every right to go where he pleased, no doubt she would take issue with his presence.

He smiled. Most likely she would claim an invasion of her privacy. In that, she resembled Nona.

But here he was, wasting valuable time over two inconsequential Earthers. Whatever had he been thinking? Not only did he have Nona's interview ahead of him, but the sunrise services, and then the emergency Council meeting. How long the assembly would last was anybody's guess.

Before he left, he took one last look at Sophia. She seemed chilled in the early morning temperatures. He lifted a polymer blanket from a receptacle and gently laid it over her. Her breathing remained slow and even. Good.

Exiting the room, JorVaal then headed for Nona.

"Well, what took you so long, boy?" Nona sat slumped over in her old fashioned wooden rocker, busily doing something with her hands.

Knitting, JorVaal believed it was called. Many a time in his youth, she would present him with a long tangle of wool, claiming it was something he should wear around his neck to keep warm.

JorVaal had rolled his gaze then as he did even now. Who needed scarves when the entire complex was temperature controlled?

She looked the picture of contented tranquillity, sitting by the virtual reality window. Its view depicted multi-colored trees ranging in hues from bright yellow to crisp orange to vivid red. Some of the leaves had fallen to the ground, accumulating in a heap. It was a forest readying itself for winter, a winter that would never come. At least on Xaspaar it wouldn't. This scene came straight from a picture appearing in an ancient Terran book.

He bent to give Nona's wizened cheek a kiss. "My greetings, Nona. I have, but recently arrived at the Bureau and I assure you that the delay in arriving at your quarters was only minimal."

Her hand, shaking with age, paused from her knitting and wandered to the chair near her. "I'm not prosying on about today and you know it, boy. Now sit down! I've enough of a crick in my neck without having to peer up at your mountainous height."

He complied. In his dealings with his great, great grandmother, he'd learned early on to go along with her ramblings. Indeed, she was the only person alive who addressed the mighty JorVaal as "boy."

A smile lit his face and he reached to pat her soft blue-veined hand. "It is true I have not had a chance to visit often --"

She snorted.

"But let me finish, Nona. I have been occupied with GCC business, and as you well know, there is precious little time for me to pay social calls."

"Bah, humbug, as I always say! You've come here because you want something. Well, boy, I want something, too. When are you going to get married and give me some great, great, great grandkids, hmm? When?" She shook her knitting needle at him in an accusatory way.

To procreate, one did not need to get married, as Nona so quaintly phrased it. He certainly did not intend to complicate his life by securing a mate for life. However, it was past time that he produced a son. The Lanquist line did require an heir.

And she was right about something else as well. He did want something from her. Embarrassment burned the tips of his ears. "Now, Nona, let's not get excited. You would not want one of the staff to have to sedate you."

"Damn fool Bureau!" Nona shot him a poignant glare, but then wiped at her suddenly weepy eyes. Her thin, white hair remained plastered in perspiration against her scalp. "It's the devil getting old," she complained. "Why don't they allow my old bones to die?"

"Because you are not inclined to go to the great beyond just yet." JorVaal lifted the tiny blue garment she worked on. "See? Even now you diligently labor on...whatever this is."

As she smiled, Nona's face creased into a thousand wrinkles. "It's a bootie, you dolt!"

He sighed. Good thing no one in the Council chamber could hear her. Her words were almost blasphemy. To humor her, he asked, "What is a bootie?"

Her cackling caused him concern. Surely the way her shoulders bounced up and down was harmful to her frail body? "Nona, you must not overstress your --"

"Nonsense, boy!" She wiped volumes of tears from her eyes. "Booties are for a wee baby's feet." Holding up the blue knitted object, she also grabbed two more from a bag lying in her lap.

"Blue for a boy and these here pink ones for a girl, Joe."

Nona called him that nickname as she had every previous JorVaal. He still hadn't decided whether he liked the name or not. But more to the point, she seemed to be settling down. He would indulge her awhile longer, then ask his questions. "So, who are the...booties for? You know two women who plan to begin gestating?"

"Joe, Joe. These are for one woman and for you. These are for your twins."

He jumped out of the chair and paced in front of the VR window. At the advanced age of one hundred eighty-seven, was Nona going senile? Twins were impossible and forbidden in this day and age -- here on Xaspaar, at any rate. No more than one child was allowed per biological parents. Not only was the infant's sex previously agreed upon before birth, but just one embryo was allowed to prosper in the Breeding Concave. Of course, the barbaric practice of allowing a fetus to grow within the mother's womb had also been discontinued ages ago. In addition, the accident of a twin birth occurring had the probability of zero.

And as for his own progeny, the time was not right for his son to be born. There could be no fertilization without JorVaal's express cooperation. Nona had finally gone over the edge.

All thoughts of his intended interrogation fled. He sat back down to smooth a damp curl off her forehead. "Nona, you must know the folly of which you speak," he said gently.

A faint whiff of lilacs drifted over to him, bringing Sophia McLaren to mind. He shook his head to dismiss her.

Nona intoned solemnly, "Oh, most wise JorVaal, sovereign leader to all the Human worlds in the Galactic Core Coalition..." Not able to keep the mischievous grin from her lips, she started cackling again. "It is you who speak folly, you know. What's more, I heard the news from the horse's mouth, so to speak. Liisan, dear girl that she is, although not precisely a girl with her body expanding and contracting like a pleated bellows and --"

It was his turn to interrupt. "Nona, let's please keep focused. What is this drivel about Liisan?"

Nona placed her knitting aside, then took a sip of liquid from her drinking cup. "They don't allow me anything more stimulating than water, Joe. It's a pity, I used to so enjoy my daily hot toddy."

She was playing with him. JorVaal stood and straightened the points on his uniform shirt. Almost time for sunrise services. As triumvirate member of the Humans, as Nona so capriciously put, he was expected to lead his race in welcoming the dawn of a new day -- all conducted inside, of course.

"So, Nona, if that is everything you have to say, then I must be heading out for the Great Daily Awakening." He took her hand and gave it a perfunctory kiss.

She snatched her hand back. "You don't want to hear the truth, Joe, do you? It was Liisan, the Yeamonl -- she told me all about it. About your destiny. About the twins."

He sadly shook his head. "Liisan may be telepathic, I will grant you that. However, she does not engage in fortune-telling."

"She was told. Told by the Ancients." As if the strain from her exertions was more than she could manage, Nona closed her shrunken eyes, readying herself for a nap.

The Ancients. JorVaal considered her words, then dismissed them as ravings from an unstable mind. He quietly said his farewells and also pledged to visit sometime in the near future. It was not an idle promise. He still wished to learn about Humankind's past as it concerned Roman civilization, and Janus in particular.

Before he left her quarters, he looked back on the woman who had been married to the first JorVaal. With her insubstantial form, she seemed as delicate and wispy as one of Xaspaar's paper-trees. The tree and his relation both had surprising inner strength, but this time, Nona's appearance was right on the mark. One puff of wind, and her weak body would crumble, breaking down into associated molecules, then riding on the waves of the breeze, as if she had never been.

Somehow he knew that Nona would be passing from this world very, very soon. A sadness filled him. A sadness that refused to be brushed aside.

After the door slid closed, he strode down the corridor to this level's pneumatic conveyor. The Ancients -- whoever heard of beings with that name?

He indicated his destination and waited to arrive at the Bureau's greeting area. As soon as time allowed, either after services, or during the GCC meeting, he would question the Yeamonl about her role in Nona's delusion.

CHAPTER EIGHT

At the present moment the star mass known to Humans as Rama appeared swollen -- heavy, ponderous, and pulsating. Its pure, dynamic colors illuminated the blackness of space, but as such a cost. She hovered nearby its gaseous extremities, then quickly shut her sensors to the sun's pain.

"Distress." Agitated, She wavered her form. "Every band of radiation is broadcasting distress."

"Yes," her companion agreed. "Uortzk tampering is evident. The normal evolution of blue-white stars is to fuse hydrogen atoms into helium, then into carbon. Eventually all the elements are manufactured, ending with iron. It is when this stage is reached that the star mass collapses, then implodes, creating the phenomena of a supernova."

A supernova could be viewed as a death, however since it redistributed elements back into space, it also could be regarded as contributing to the birth of new star systems.

He continued, "Only in Rama's case, the evolution is not normal. The accelerated nuclear fusion due to Uortzk meddling has caused an imbalance. Once the carbon begins to ignite, Rama will be destroyed."

The senselessness of this course of action perplexed her. "But why would the Uortzks conceive of such a plan? This explosion, coupled with the primordial black hole's evaporation, will consign all life forms, including theirs, to rapid and complete extinction."

The star groaned under its aberrant increased activity. She extended a tendril of her being in sympathy. She could not bear to witness anything dying.

He swirled his molecules around her and through her, in the hopes of comforting her sensitive nature. "A miscalculation on the part of the Uortzks. That, and a basic flaw in their short-sighted nature. And as we converse, they tamper with Xaspaar's sun as well. Uortzks seek to demolish the Galactic Core Coalition by means of a catastrophe, even if the Uortzk planet is annihilated as well. They are poised to abandon their home, just as Humans did so many years ago."

"Some Humans," She corrected. "Imagine, the Uortzks presume Rama will evolve into a wormhole -- a gateway into the Andromeda Galaxy." Anger coalesced inside her. "How could they believe Core members would look to them as leaders? How could they be so wrong?"

He paused to reflect. "This race has concentrated on aggression and conflict to obtain their ends. Analysis of other life forms' behavior never played a role in Uortzk development."

"Evidently, quantum mechanics and cosmology never did either. The black hole in the theta quadrant and the very nature of this galaxy's center will, most likely, cause a mini 'Big Bang' in itself." Everything, everywhere, would die. And death on such a grand scale would adversely affect the balance of the existing universe.

His silence indicated agreement. She felt compelled to take additional measures. "Let us do more for the Humans. Clearly, this is a crisis of galactic proportions. They must be made aware of the gravity of this situation."

"Gravity?" His amused rhythm of thoughts focused on her. "As gravity is a distortion of space-time and Rama's gravitational collapse is the cause for our concern, are you making a play on words?"

"I am if it pleases you." She mingled her molecules with his. As always, She derived intense enjoyment from their blessed union. "But for now, play must wait. We will head for Xaspaar. Somehow we must alert the Humans to the need for urgency."

Impatient as was her nature, She tugged on the outer edges of his bodiless form.

He acquiesced. "Yes, my own one. Lead on and I shall follow."

Standing outside Pent's quarters, Mirabelle raised her hand to press the speaker button, then hesitated. By rights, she had no business in the Uortzk sector of the compound, especially at this early hour of the morning, but she had to find out what he was planning to do to assist her.

She gnawed at her lower lip. It hurt her pride to need anyone's help, especially from a Uortzk, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Not only had JorVaal preferred the Earther's company at yesterday's intermission, but he had chosen exercise over Mirabelle during the evening hours as well.

She had never been so humiliated!

Circumstances demanded caution. Instead of using the loudspeaker button, she softly knocked on the door.

"Enter," a harsh voice barked.

She slipped inside, then waited until the door closed. Darkness, silence, and a deep, musky scent greeted her. Although she took her time looking around, she couldn't distinguish the walls from the furniture, if Pent' had any. Goosebumps broke the surface of her skin. She couldn't have been more vulnerable if she had been standing naked in a room full of strangers.

"Pent'? This is Mirabelle. Wh...where are you?"

A small ceiling fixture flickered on, illuminating him from behind. If possible, he seemed even larger and hairier, certainly more menacing than in the light of Xaspaar's day. His immense chest was bare and his rich fur of burnished orange gleamed brightly with unnatural highlights.

As she focused on his chest, two elongated nipples the color of overripe grapes peeked out from under the thicket of wool. At this intimate sight, she could not help shuddering.

"Why have you disturbed our slumber, Mirabelle Kingsley?"

She raised her gaze to his equally alarming golden eyes. "With this mo...morning's Council meeting, I knew I would not have a chance to ask how you intend to get rid of that Earther, Sophia McLaren." Mirabelle lifted her head. "It is imperative you take action right away."

"We will take action when we so choose." Pent' grimaced, exposing long, round teeth. "At the next reinvigoration interval the lady will dine with us. The opportunity for further study is thus assured."

"Lady? Study? I want that revolting Earther eliminated!"

Pent' stepped closer, almost suffocating her with his presence. "What you desire and what you will get, Mirabelle, could be two separate outcomes. We will decide on the proper course to follow."

Anger obliterated any fear she previously felt. Hands on hips, she faced him squarely. "That was not our agreement, Pent'. I have done all you asked and more. I even arranged for today's Council meeting to be closed to the public because I anticipated that those would be your wishes."

Not entirely true since JorVaal had requested her to lock out the ordinary citizens, but Pent' need never know that. Besides, why did she have to butter him up, anyway? The Uortzks were crazy. According to Fredd, the beasts seemed determined to blow up their own sun! Dementia must be consuming the entire race.

Pent's eyes glowed like fire. "You must do as your own conscience dictates. We shall do the same."

Mirabelle frowned. She would give him twenty-four hours to effect Sophia McLaren's disappearance. If he refused the task, then she'd have to formulate plan number two.

"Until the meeting, Pent'." Turning on her heel, she stomped out of his quarters. Damn fool animal!

Her reckless flight down the corridor came to an abrupt stop when Pent's deputy, Hanik, suddenly appeared and barred her way.

"You will come begging, Mirabelle. Mark our words."

As he fingered a curl of her short hair, bile rose in her throat. She pulled away, then ran for the pneumatic conveyor.

Once safely inside, she spat back at him, "Never!"

Sam woke with a start. Cramped from being twisted like a pretzel, she stretched and glanced at Mart. Sometimes he still looked like he was twelve -- like the day she'd found out about their parents' death. Young, confused and scared.

But not this morning. A new maturity had softly crept into his freckled features and even his tousled hair seemed less spiky. But sometimes maturity brought discontent. As he slept, a tiny frown turned down his lips.

Sadness and hope filled her heart. Sadness that he'd had to endure so much suffering, and hope that one day -- soon -- he'd never have to worry about "shutting down" again. She got up and walked around to work the kinks out of her body. She arched her tender back. If Mart did get cured, that was worth the pain of any discomfort and inconvenience.

"Hey, what's the deal with you pacin' back and forth? You look like a caged rat." Mart propped himself up on his elbows and cocked a mischievous eyebrow at her.

"Well, good morning to you too!" She gestured to the tiny chair that had doubled as her bed. "At least you're well rested. And, by the way, you're right -- I am a caged rat...or mouse. After all, no windows here, rules against going outside -- heavens, this place is like living in a sardine can."

Scratching his head, he grunted. "Yeah, who would've guessed the lifestyle of the great GCC is similar to that of Earth moles. I --"

Without warning the door slid open. Sam jammed on her hat to hide her hair from the intruder. Didn't these people believe in knocking?

"Good morning, Martin McLaren. Your alpha rhythms indicated alertness." A robust, young woman, different from last night, bustled into the room. Carrot-shaped, she darted a disapproving look at Sam, then checked the chart next to the bed.

Sam buttoned the top button on her rumpled shirt. Funny how all the people she'd seen so far seemed to be in the young/middle adult stage of life. No children and no older folks. Peculiar.

"I see you are still here, Sophia McLaren," the attendant continued. Her voice was rather hard. "But you must leave now. Martin is scheduled to meet with the physicians. Then he will be free to go. Most likely his treatment will begin tomorrow."

Mart slid his feet down to the carpeted floor. "Well, that's good news. So I won't be poked or prodded today?"

"Poked or prodded?" The woman stared at him and lifted her quarterback shoulders as if in defense. "By the Core, what are you jabbering about?"

Sam didn't know what exactly an examination entailed, but evidently physical touch wasn't included.

"I'll go now," she said quickly to divert the attendant. She didn't want the woman to think that Mart was off his rocker. "May I wait for my brother downstairs?"

A look of revulsion crossed the woman's face. Probably because of Mart and Sam's "relationship." Then one of puzzlement followed. "Downstairs?"

Mart laughed. "Sam, you and me are out of step, aren't we? No stairs here." To the attendant, he explained, "In the greetin' area."

The woman's fleshy lips grew pinched. "That will not be necessary as Nona has requested for you to visit. Her quarters are three doors down the corridor."

Sam exchanged a glance with Mart. "Who is Nona?"

"Nona Lanquist!" Although that was all the woman shouted, she most clearly wanted to add "You nincompoop!" to the exclamation.

With his arm around Sam, Mart escorted her to the door. "Don't let this fire-breathin' dragon scare you, Sam," he whispered. "You go visit Nona, whoever she is, and when I'm done, I'll come and get you."

Mart's solicitude wiped away the woman's rudeness. "Thanks, Mart. I'll see you in a bit."

After the door closed, Sam inhaled, counted to ten, then exhaled. This place was certainly not the garden spot of the galaxy as far as she was concerned. She peered down the confining hallway. Nona Lanquist probably was related to JorVaal. Was she his mother? His wife? No, not wife. He wasn't a one-woman man, more's the pity.

And she couldn't be his sister. Sam shook her head. Why did this Nona want to see her?

You won't find out the answer by standing here.

Propelled by curiosity, she walked the length of the corridor, then raised her hand to knock on the correct door. A faint voice came through a speaker outlet.

"Don't stand on ceremony, girl, c'mon in." The door slid open in greeting.

Sam cautiously stepped inside, glancing to the left and right. The hazy atmosphere bombarded her senses with pleasant sights and smells of the past. Old fashioned, two- dimensional photographs lined the pink posy papered walls and the flat eyes of people long since gone stared at her. Instead of giving her the creeps, she felt oddly comforted. Strange thing was, these portraits had more in common with Earth than the rich technology of Xaspaar.

The aroma of something freshly baked wafted through the air, teasing her empty stomach. Was it bread, cookies, or cake? Whatever it was, it had her almost drooling! She took another step inside. The area also was crowded with furniture -- all wooden pieces crafted with love in an earlier century. The knickknacks alone must have been worth a fortune. She picked up one, a small, pine rocking horse whose motion imitated the clip-clop of a gallop.

Best of all, the room had an honest-to-goodness window!

"Quit your gawking, child, and come sit by me."

Sam set the horse down, then located the source of the voice. An incredibly aged woman was huddled in a splat-backed chair. Of all the extraordinary sights on Xaspaar, she had never expected to see someone as old as this. The woman was shrunken to mere bones and yet, her fiery blue eyes were as bright as if she were but twenty.

"Well?" The woman tapped a gnarled finger.

"Yes, ma'am." Sam hurried to an upholstered chair and carefully lowered herself down on its antique cushion. So this was Nona Lanquist.

Nona leveled a pointy, steel needle at her. "Cat got your tongue, girl? Haven't you ever seen a living mummy before?" She cackled loudly at her own wit.

The woman was as sharp as her knitting needle, no doubt about that. Sam eyed the mass of light blue wool in Nona's lap. "For a mummy, you're doing an awfully good job knitting booties, ma'am."

"I had practice, girl. Many, many years ago, I was a mother." She gave an infectious smile. "You will be too, and soon."

As Sam had not yet found a man who seriously peaked her interest in that direction, she dismissed Nona's prediction. After all, JorVaal was, well, he wasn't husband material. "My brother's attendant said that you wanted to see me, ma'am."

Nona smiled again, displaying crooked, yellowed teeth. "You bet I do. Damn stupid nurses. See how they have me trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey?"

She held up her arm, exposing hair-like wires running from her side down behind her chair. "They know everything about me, even when I have to take a tinkle! I tell you, girl, it's the devil getting old. They won't let me die."

The querulous tone in Nona's voice didn't deceive Sam. "Sounds to me like you don't really want to die, ma'am. If you did, you're strong willed enough to just go ahead and pass on. You wouldn't let these dispassionate robots stop you."

The woman had a cackling fit worthy of a comedy laugh-fest. Wiping a merry tear from her eye, she patted her meager chest. "Dearie me! I do have to calm down else those damn stupid robots will come in and sedate me. Robots! I like that." She winked at Sam. "I like you, girl. You're perfect for my Joe."

A matchmaking grandmother. Sam grinned. Evidently this planet had its share of Cupids as did her own world. Some things were universal.

"Sorry, ma'am. I'm sure your grandson is as engaging as you, but I'm not in the market for a husband." Sam stood and moved to the window. She touched its clear glass. "You know, this is the first window I've seen since arriving here. I've got to tell you, I find this closed-in atmosphere extremely...peculiar."

She gazed out at the autumn landscape of multi-colored leaves gently drifting down from a forest of maple and oak trees. "Amazing how similar Xaspaar is to Earth. That's where I'm from. This looks just like a picture postcard of New England."

"It most likely is."

Sam looked at the woman. "You mean --"

"Virtual reality, my dear, of my choosing. These bloodless creatures abhor anything to do with Mother Nature."

Sam sat back down. Great. The one window she found had to show counterfeit scenery. "I hope you'll excuse my manners, but this complex has all the charm of a subway tunnel."

"Good analogy, girl. All those years living in a spaceship from Earth to Xaspaar took a toll on these poor souls. Not me, of course, nor my late husband, but bah! Here I am, chained to this room." Nona tsk-tsked. "What did you say your name is?"

"Sophia, but my friends call me Sam."

"Yes, that's right. They told me, but I'd forgotten. Sam then. I do intend to be your friend."

Nona lifted a container and poured some liquid into a cup. Her hand shook noticeably, causing droplets to rain over the table's porous surface.

Sam reached over to help mop up the spill.

"Thank you, Sam. Have some water with me? I regret that's all I have to drink." Nona's face slackened, but then she brightened. "How about a honey roll? Joe just had them sent to me."

"I'd like that."

Following Nona's instructions, Sam opened a box containing swirled breadstuffs covered with amber honey. In spite of herself, her tummy rumbled. She bit off a piece and was transported to heaven. "These are absolutely delicious. Your grandson sounds like a very considerate person. You must be proud of him."

Nona shook her head, which gave the wrinkled loose skin on her cheeks quite a ride.

"Considerate? No, not usually. But deep down Joe is a good boy. Reminds me of my late husband, he does. Not my grandson, though. My great, great grandson, you see. I'm one hundred eighty seven." She beamed. "And you'll be giving me my great, great, great grandchildren."

Persistent, wasn't she? Sam finished the last crumb of her honey roll, then wiped her fingers on a napkin.

"Why do you say that, Nona? I'm just here until my brother gets better, then we're returning home. And I don't even know your...Joe."

An unpleasant thought hit Sam. What if Joe was short for...JorVaal? The nickname didn't fit the "mighty JorVaal." Or did it?

The roll sank like lead in her stomach. "Um, Nona, you wouldn't be talking about, er, JorVaal, would you?"

The woman slapped her bony knee. "So you do know him! The Ancients were right! Well, of course they're always right. They're the Ancients, aren't they? By jingo, this is a happy day!"

Sam tidied up the remnants then stood to leave. She had no idea who the Ancients were, but no matter. In this case they and Nona were totally and completely off base! Her and JorVaal -- goodness! "Um, my brother is probably ready to go, so --"

"Not so fast, dearie, not so fast. I have an important errand for you."

This was all so very, very strange. "I'd be happy to help you, Nona, but --"

"Help the galaxy, more like. The Ancients told me, just this morning, in fact. They told me that you must attend the emergency Council meeting going on right now. Your presence there is crucial."

Sam rubbed her forehead. Things were turning a tad bit sticky here. "Nona, I'm afraid that's not possible."

Nona remained firm. "Nonsense. You shall go as my emissary. I have an honorary seat on the Council. I am the oldest living thing, you know. Never can go because of these." She lifted her arm again and the wires wavered with the movement.

"Nona, there are a thousand reasons why I can't go. My ignorance of GCC matters is only one of them. Why, they'd throw me out on my...bottom."

The woman wouldn't take no for an answer. "As my proxy, no one would dare treat you with anything but respect."

Sam fingered the top button on her shirt. "Listen, I slept in these clothes and they look it."

"Shower here. You can wear anything in my wardrobe."

Sam could've listed the whole thousand reasons, but perhaps she should just cut to the most important one.

"Nona, I have to be honest with you. Your...JorVaal and I, well, we don't get along. I'm sure he'd turn seven shades of purple if I showed up."

There. The truth was out. With everything that had happened, in no way was she looking to cause a confrontation. After all, he was a powerful man. And so far, she hadn't had to cut her hair.

Nona picked up her knitting needles and began to knit and purl furiously. "You cannot disappoint me, child. You must take my place and then report back to me. Your brother can also attend." She looked up, her eyes watery. "Please, Sam? Grant me this one request."

Oh, dear heavens. Sam's mouth went dry. How could she, in all good conscience, say no? She was a softy from the word go.

"Well, all right." Her answer had all the enthusiasm of a patient agreeing to have her tooth pulled -- although these days tooth pulling was no longer needed.

Nona's face creased into a beguiling smile. "That's a good girl now. You go on and pick out some clothes. I'll make the necessary arrangements." Her eyes watered again. "Bless you, my child."

With stooped shoulders, Sam entered Nona's bedroom. Some inner sense told her she was making a monumental mistake.

The doors to the Council chamber were steel grey, smooth, and reached up at least three stories high. Uniform in texture, they gleamed coldly back at Sam and Mart. If Sam had qualms about entering before, her reservations were nothing compared to what she was feeling right at this moment.

"So, what do we do, say 'Open Sesame'?" As always, Mart retained his sense of humor.

Sam, however, found little to smile about. Fidgeting with lace adorning the neckline of Nona's silky blouse, she got cold feet. "Maybe I could tell Nona that we couldn't get inside."

"Coward." The remark was said without malice.

Sam shrugged. "Well, if the shoe fits..."

A female voice called out to them. It was Iris sitting on a bench outside the chamber. "Hello there. Do you also wait fer the meeting to end?"

Iris rested her gaze on Sam. Something was wrong here. Last time Mart and Iris were together, without saying anything, they almost broadcasted their attraction to each other.

Mart tugged on his hair so hard, it was a wonder he didn't pull it out by its roots. "Actually, Sam's been invited to join in on the fun. Look, Iris, I --"

Without warning, the previously solid door just...melted away, revealing a magnificently huge cavernous room. The three of them just gawked at the intimidating sight.

"You'd better go on. We'll talk later," Iris whispered.

Iris was right. Mart and Sam had no choice but to step inside.

GCC members of all different persuasions sat at clear tables designed in concentric rings. Out from the center table were circles -- about twenty in all, and every delegate's eyes, or whatever they used, were focused on her and Mart.

Great. Talk about sticking out like a sore thumb.

Even more mortifying was the fact that she could easily identify the grouping at the exact center of the chamber. Dear Fredd and the unusual Liisan gazed at the intruders, their faces displaying surprise. Marvelous Mirabelle had a stronger emotion stamped on her attractive features; something like repugnance.

But JorVaal -- his expression was alarming indeed. He blazed thunder from his stormy blue eyes while the stern line of his jaw was anchored in disapproval. His censure bothered her; it bothered her more than she cared to admit, but right now she couldn't take the time to analyze why. She lifted her chin.

"Get the feeling we're not wanted?" Mart nudged her in the ribs.

A blaring voice interrupted the assembly. "Embassaries of Nona Lanquist requesting admission to GCC Council. Sophia McLaren and Martin McLaren of planet Terra."

A murmur of consternation sounded through the assemblage. Was it because they were acting as Nona's embassaries, or hailing from Earth?

The bodiless words continued, "Admission granted or denied?"

Again, JorVaal shot laser sharp beams of annoyance at her. She caught his gaze and held it. He then shrugged his broad shoulders. "Granted."

Sam bit back a smile. If what Nona had said was true, JorVaal really didn't have a choice, and that knowledge gave her courage.

"Follow the light to your assigned seats." The artificial voice seemed to originate from the interior walls. Sort of like a DOM for the Council chamber.

She got the impression that its hollow tone bothered the delegates as much as it bothered her. Then, as stars twinkle on a clear night, tiny beads of illumination lit a pathway. She and Mart treaded their way through the maze. Nodding in greeting at some of the Council representatives, Mart then whispered over to her, "Who's the cordial joker up ahead?"

She flashed him an appreciative smile. "The mighty JorVaal, our most noble host, leader to Humans, heir to the throne, fearless in battle --"

Mart held up his hand. "I get the picture. Impressive, but JorVaal doesn't like us, does he?"

"He doesn't like Earthers." Me in particular, she silently added.

"Short-sighted of him." Mart rubbed his hands. "Well now, just look where we're headin'. This oughta be interestin'."

The stream of light ended at the center -- of course. With all the space in this monstrous room, their assigned seats had to be there. Two vacant chairs were now at the table -- one next to JorVaal, the other next to Fredd.

No contest as to Sam's preference. "I'll sit by Fredd." She headed for her target.

JorVaal rose to his feet. "Nona Lanquist's proxy must take her place by my side. Regulations are to be obeyed." He lifted his eyebrow at Sam, challenging her.

She and Mart changed places. Although her heart slammed against the wall of her ribcage, she gazed evenly at JorVaal, glad for the chance to sit before her wobbly knees gave way. Why in heaven's name was he affecting her this way?

He smiled slightly, then sat down after she did. Pressing a button, he addressed the Council. "This interruption has delayed us. We resume. Mirabelle Kingsley, please repeat the last statement on the record to refresh our memories."

Sam watched the woman slide a long glance at JorVaal, then proceeded to relay information concerning gamma rays and electromagnetic forces -- all technical subjects that bored Sam to tears. Instead of paying attention, she studied Mirabelle.

The woman's lightly bronzed cap of curls shimmered with health and vibrancy as did her glowing milky skin. Her shapely arms curved strong and firm, displayed compact, bulging muscles. Nothing milquetoast about this female. Every now and then, her gaze lingered on JorVaal and her tongue wetted her lips.

Sam looked away. Obviously, Mirabelle had a "thing" for JorVaal. Did he return her regard?

Scrutinizing JorVaal at this close range was difficult, but somehow Sam managed. He was handsome -- so handsome that just looking at him caused tingles to run hot and cold throughout her body. She took a steadying breath. She could find no clues as to his inner thoughts. He was pensive, all business, which was as it should be. The talk now included phrases like Schwarzchild radius and Cerenkov radiation -- definitely sleep- inducers. One look at Mart, however, told her that he was enthralled.

Restless, Sam aimlessly scanned the delegates facing her. Then the small hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she turned to find a Uortzk member staring at her. The unblinking golden eyes and massive, hairy head were familiar. This member had to be Pent'.

A flush of embarrassment heated her cheeks. Poor manners for her to be daydreaming like an inattentive student.

Pent' raised his padded hand and pointed a claw at her. "We wish to hear the Terran embassary's thoughts on this situation."

Oh dear heavens! He couldn't be serious! The Uortzk folded his arms across his huge chest and waited for her to reply.

JorVaal unexpectedly came to her aid. "The Council has no time to waste on outside opinions. As it stands, we must take action with all due haste."

Pent' roared in reply. "We differ with our colleague, the mighty JorVaal. Does not an old Terran adage relate, 'Haste makes waste'? An outside opinion brings new avenues with which to consider an issue." He raised his arm to the ceiling. "Who votes as we do?"

Patches of bright green light appeared on every circle, agreeing with Pent'. Evidently JorVaal lacked supporters, at least on this topic.

"The Council has decided. Sophia McLaren, you have the floor." JorVaal's tone was neutral -- not approving nor disapproving.

Next to Fredd, Mart squirmed in sympathy. He alone knew just how technology- deficient his big sister really was.

Sam took the luxury of one deep inhalation and exhalation. Every eye was on her.

Well, here goes nothing. "Mighty JorVaal, most exalted Pent', and members of the Council, I do appreciate your confidence in me, but as my brother and I joined your meeting late, I'm afraid I don't have all the details with which to make a recommendation."

Hopefully, her using the formal addresses she'd overheard would satisfy the big egos involved here, and also get her off the hook. Glancing over at Mart, she saw him mouth, "Attagirl."

Fredd winked broadly at her. "Aye, there's a lassie!"

As for JorVaal, a twitch had developed in the corner of his mouth. Whether it signaled displeasure or amusement, she couldn't say.

"A recap then, for the late arrivals." JorVaal directed his order at Mirabelle. "Please summarize the facts for the entire Council."

The woman shot a hard stare at Sam. "If I must," Mirabelle replied ungraciously. "As we all know, Human Christopher Bainbridge from Deneb 4 first brought part of the problem to Council's attention. Excessive static interference is besieging their planetary system."

A blonde man two tables down sat straighter in his chair. After he caught Sam's gaze, he waved. She smiled back. He seemed very friendly. Maybe he was Christopher Bainbridge.

For no reason, JorVaal hammered his fist on the counter. "Continue."

Mirabelle flinched. "Control Center isolated the source of the energy flux to be Rama, companion star to the Uortzk sun. Rama is in Cygnus sector, as is Deneb. Analysis has revealed that the internal fusion of hydrogen atoms into helium is accelerating at an unprecedented rate."

Sam moved to unbutton her blouse's top button, then remembered that Nona's top was a pullover. Returning her hand to her lap, she mulled over the words. Why was an accelerated fusion so bad? If only she could ask Mart.

Mirabelle flipped a switch and a hologram of a star, blue-white in color, appeared in the center of the chamber. "As we all are aware, when the iron stage of fusion is reached, the star mass collapses, causing a supernova."

At that point the image wavered, then steadied only to waver again.

"Static disturbance," JorVaal murmured.

Sam peered at him, but his impassive countenance revealed nothing.

She'd better get back to business. Supernovas. Of course she knew about supernovas, but that stage of a star's evolution took millions of years to reach. So why was the Council concerned now?

When the hologram signal stabilized, Mirabelle continued, "However, evidence indicates that outside tampering has created an imbalance in Rama's internal structure. Central Control believes that once the element of carbon is reached, Rama will explode."

Sam glanced from the blonde man to Pent' to observe their reactions. If what Central Control concluded was true, then the Denebians and the Uortzks were in danger. Even she knew that. While the man, perhaps Christopher Bainbridge, now sat grim-faced in his chair, Pent' leaned over to his colleague for a private chat. He seemed extremely unconcerned at this revelation. How odd.

Even if mere thousands of years were involved here instead of millions, the situation should generate more of a response than a yawn. Especially since sabotage from an outside source was indicated.

Mirabelle wasn't finished yet. "An added consideration is the near-complete evaporation of black hole 29P238 in the theta quadrant, Cygnus sector."

As Sam had no fondness for black holes -- not with traveling through six wormholes to get here -- she didn't view that news with distress.

The hologram image changed to a circular mass, complete with equations and other statistical data. Mart took his pen, and as he had no paper, started scribbling on the inside of his wrist.

Sam withheld her chuckle then turned her attention back to Mirabelle.

"The final explosion is estimated to release energy as powerful as one quadrillion -- "

The rest of the words had no meaning for Sam. She looked to Mart for an explanation.

He nodded, wrote in the palm of his hand, then showed it to her. It said,"1012."

Sam gulped down hard. 1012 meant 1,000,000,000,000! The black hole's passing would generate one gigantic explosion. And still Pent' indulged in a private conversation. In fact, not one of the Uortzks paid attention. "Macho" took on a whole new meaning around them.

Finally, Mirabelle wrapped up her report. "With the black hole 29P238 in the same sector as Rama the effect of the ensuing shock wave is only now being calculated."

Sam noticed Mart's pronounced frown. Evidently, whatever figures he was coming up with gave further documentation to the seriousness of the situation. Two mega- explosions in the foreseeable future. What would this mean for Deneb and Uortzk...and the GCC?

JorVaal flashed a smile at Mirabelle. "An accurate summary, citizen. Our thanks."

Marvelous Mirabelle beamed.

Sam straightened in her chair. How catty of her, especially in light of the news being discussed.

JorVaal now turned to her. "You have all the known facts at your disposal, Sophia McLaren. What is your recommendation?"

Oh. Hadn't she successfully distracted JorVaal from Pent's request? Evidently not. Did she really have to answer? As moist perspiration popped up on her forehead, she fingered the lace around her neckline. For some strange reason, she felt as if the whole galaxy hung on her words. How very, very peculiar.

"I, um, well, it seems to me that the first order of business is to...determine who or what is behind Rama's accelerated fusion rate."

From the murmurs and head bobbing of the members, she could tell that her suggestion had hit the nail on the head. This response was encouraging. "Next, the, um, Central Control should research ways to, er, correct Rama's internal imbalance, if possible." If that problem could get fixed, then they'd be looking at only one catastrophe. But what a catastrophe!

She directed her question at JorVaal. "What's the timeframe we're looking at here until the black hole evaporates completely?"

His ruggedly compelling features were expressionless except for his flinty blue eyes. He was evaluating her, regarding her in another light. But was that good, bad, or indifferent? And although he spoke to the members, he seemed to be talking only to her.

"Several unknown variables factor into the figure, Sophia McLaren. The closest estimate at this time is one hundred and three point two years."

A mere eyeblink in galactic time. No, what was she thinking? It was even less than that. She felt an internal clock ticking away precious seconds. Everyone still looked at her, waiting patiently for her next words. Admiration shone from Mart's dark eyes, while Liisan seemed puffed sideways with approval, and Fredd gave her the thumbs up.

Sam drummed her fingers under the table. What else could she say? Suddenly, a bizarre idea occurred to her.

"I don't know if this is possible, but, since the hole is about to...radiate itself out of existence, could something really massive be inserted into it, something that it could feed off, so to speak? Fill the black hole's belly, so it can continue to have material to radiate away?"

The silence in the enormous chamber threatened to burst her eardrums. Every member froze in space and time -- and they all stared. They all stared at her. Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she rued the day she was born. And why not? What did she know about cosmic matters? She was just a simple girl from Greater Missouri. She shouldn't be shooting her mouth off here at GCC Central! Her "solution" was so simplistic! Why hadn't she quit while she was ahead?

But then she noticed Pent'. For the first time since she entered, he looked agitated. He leaned over to growl alien words at his fellow Uortzks and pounded his fist on a few unfortunate shoulders. Why?

The quiet gave way to utter pandemonium. Members clamored for their turn to voice their opinions. JorVaal allowed the chaos to continue for a few seconds. Ignoring the members, he bent down to whisper in her ear. "Tolerable reasoning for an Earther. I am impressed."

A thrill of unimagined pleasure zigzagged down her backbone clear down to her toes. What a heady, sensual emotion to earn JorVaal's praise -- even though it was lukewarm. She glanced at him, losing herself in the richness of his eyes.

He smiled, but all too soon, broke contact. After he pressed a button on the table, a reverberating buzzer sounded. "Order, citizens! A call to order."

As the cacophony ceased, so did the buzzer. "Now then," he continued, "it is obvious that the Terran delegate's suggestions excite comment. Investigation on all three recommendations must be conducted."

He consulted the small watch attached to his shirt. "The intermission interval is almost upon us. Are we in agreement to adjourn for two hours, then recommence and continue our meeting?"

Intermission. Sam wrinkled her nose. Obviously the need to satisfy "biological" appetites was very popular with GCC members.

JorVaal struck the Council gavel on the table. "So be it. The proceedings are now suspended. Citizens, good appetites!"

No sooner were the words said, then the members began to file out of the chamber.

Mart jumped to his feet and gave her his standard slap on the back. "Congratulations, Sam! I never woulda guessed that you --"

"Thank you, Mart," she interrupted. If left to himself, he would have said to all and sundry -- and especially to JorVaal -- that his sister was a techno-babble dummy.

JorVaal also rose to his feet. "I agree that your...sister has made a significant contribution to today's emergency meeting." He extended his hand to help her rise.

The warm touch of his skin caused cool quivers up her arm. She stood, then quickly disconnected contact.

Fredd grabbed her free hand and shook it. "Aye, lassie, let's celebrate by having lunch together."

But before she had a chance to reply, the blonde man from two circles away joined the group. "Pardon me for intruding, but may I introduce myself? I'm Christopher Bainbridge and I would be most pleased if you allowed me to share this day's sustenance with you."

Sam gave him her best smile. "Nice to meet you, Christopher, but I --"

JorVaal lowered his brows and gruffly broke in, "Sophia has other plans. She --"

Sam had no reservations about interrupting him. His high-handedness made her do a slow burn. "Yes, you're right, I did make other plans."

She tilted her head toward Mart. The nurse had been wrong about starting the medication tomorrow. He was due to begin treatment back at the Bureau in two and a half hours. And Sam planned to be right there with him. In the meantime, would he be okay during lunch without her?

"Do you mind, Mart? I forgot to tell you."

Mart winked at her, obviously finding amusement in something. "No problem, sis. I'll eat with Fredd and Liisan."

Sam then turned to watch Pent' approach the center table. "And here is my lunch partner now."

The Uortzk bowed, such an old-fashioned gesture, then held out his furry paw. "We come to claim Sophia McLaren for the dining interval. We have much to talk about."

Although he lifted his lips in a smile, the effect was almost ghastly. Long, round ivory teeth gleamed wickedly in his mouth. She gulped an infinitesimal fear. Perhaps he meant to dine on her!

JorVaal stepped forward, raising his eyebrow. "Indeed? In that case, I will join you. Do you object?"

Politeness demanded that Pent' be gracious and reply, "Not at all." He didn't go quite that far, but he did signal his reluctant approval.

"But, JorVaal," Mirabelle protested. "I thought we might pleasure ourselves --"

"Another time," he curtly cut her short.

Christopher's face brightened. "Mirabelle, perhaps you and I can share intermission?"

Lifting her lip in a sneer, Mirabelle said, "Not in this lifetime, Denebian." She then sniffed and flounced out of the chamber.

Sam had to admit she felt relief. She wasn't the only one blushing red with embarrassment at Mirabelle's plain speaking. However, it was an uneasy relief. Lunch with two extremely aggressive males. On one hand, was Pent' -- a disturbing presence. The Uortzk race was, of course, alien, by nature. She had no notion of their motivations, thought processes, or desires. On the other hand was JorVaal, who also disturbed her, but on a more deeply and personal level. She knew what motivated him, what he desired, but what of his thought processes?

As he was in a deep conversation with Fredd, she studied JorVaal's stern profile. What went on in that man's brain?

Saying good-bye to Mart, Fredd, Liisan, and Christopher, Sam then followed Pent' and JorVaal out of the Council chamber. No doubt about it, the upcoming session would be an ordeal to remember. Instead of enjoying exotic foods and scintillating conversation, most likely she'd be treated to the experience of watching two hard headed, imperious males butting heads for a position of dominance.

Lucky, lucky her.

CHAPTER NINE

"Have you any preferences for dining, Lady?" Pent's question was delivered with a rumbled roar instead of his usual booming tones.

Sam struggled to keep pace with the two of them. Her five foot five inch height was no match for their alpine altitudes. "I'll let you decide, Pent'. I don't suppose Xaspaar City has any outdoor cafés. Maybe someplace with an outside view?"

Since leaving the Council chamber, JorVaal had remained silent. Now he curved his fingers around her upper arm just above the elbow and steered her to a passageway on the left. "With Pent's approval, we shall spend this interval at the Triumvirate Lounge -- a secluded eatery only open to top GCC personnel."

She wiggled her arm from him. Why was it that every time he touched her, she felt as if her very soul was on fire? And why was he always touching her?

A brief smile lit his face. "And as for the outside, I believe I told you about the unhealthy microorganisms common to our unpurified environment. However, the lounge does have atmosphere. Depending on your whim an assortment of impressive 3-D scenes from member worlds can be displayed by a mere flick of a switch."

Pent' stopped before a pneumatic conveyor and barked out a command for the door to open. "Yes, but they are pictures only," he said. "They lack the heart and soul of the bona fide terrain. Our young lady here understands this. She does not fear experiencing the winds nor the wrath of a planet that is not climate controlled. We approve of her courage."

Evidently JorVaal didn't agree. Walking inside, he tersely stated, "Triumvirate Lounge," into the conveyor's speaker. His arms folded across his chest, he stood rigidly. "It is foolhardy to ignore rules and regulations created to provide optimum safety. Outside the complex walls, Xaspaar contains many traps."

"Craving only safety can be a trap in itself, mighty JorVaal," Pent' said smoothly.

Sam bit her lip and looked down to study the conveyor's smooth floor. Pent's wisdom couldn't be denied. He'd won this round. The silence between the two men strained her ears. Unable to delay her curiosity any longer, she glanced at JorVaal. To her surprise, he regarded Pent' with a tolerant eye. "You are correct in that. Safety without some risk can make one...complacent and unprepared."

When the conveyor door melted away, Sam quickly left its intimidating confines. Why, oh why had she agreed to lunch with Pent' today? She should be at the Health Bureau, questioning doctors on Mart's treatment. A quick glance at her watch confirmed that she had enough time to eat and get back before Mart would miss her.

JorVaal again placed his hand around her upper arm. His fingers fell short of the silky material on Nona's blouse and his bare skin touched Sam's. She shivered at the intimate contact.

"But enough serious talk for now. Perhaps Sophia would care to pay a visit to her fellow compatriots. They are also on this level."

"My compatriots?" Sam did a double take. From what Fredd had told her, she was under the impression that she and Mart were the only ones from planet Earth.

JorVaal smoothed the thick napped fabric on his uniform sleeve. "Does the most exalted Pent' object to a detour?"

Pent's snarl reverberated off the dull, metallic surface in the corridor. "Only if the delay is brief. We grow famished."

JorVaal led the way through the tunnels, then stopped at an area where Humans and other races were congregated. Once the group spotted him and Pent', reverent whispers of their names hissed through the air, sounding like fiercely boiling teapots. The crowd stepped aside, allowing their leaders and Sam to have a better view of what was inside the room.

Two miniature red houses, complete with a wooden siding and a barn-style roof, rose from a manicured lawn of lime green grass. Peculiar. The strange thing was that the doors to the buildings were out of proportion; large, U-shaped holes decorated the front of each dwelling.

Sam looked at JorVaal. This close, she noticed fine lines around his eyes and his mouth. Lines that crinkled when he laughed or deepened when he became angry. Such proximity was disturbing.

"Um, JorVaal, I don't understand. What do these houses have to do with me?"

Pent' edged closer. "Yes, explain yourself, JorVaal. We tire of your --"

Something captured Pent's attention. From her position, Sam peered at the tiny building. Did she see two beady black eyes inside?

A head poked out from the cutout door -- a chicken head! The rest of Cluck-Cluck's now plump white body followed.

"Cluck-Cluck, you old girl! How are you?" Without thinking, Sam felt her pockets for some poultry grain to feed the chickens. Of course she came up empty.

Henrietta left her new home to join her "sister" on the grass.

Sam made a move to go pick up the birds, but an invisible barrier prevented her from entering. It was like walking straight into a glass door.

Ooof! Straightening her cap, she asked, "May I go inside and pet them? I haven't seen the girls in so long."

JorVaal nodded, amusement lifting his lips. He touched a knob outside the enclosure. "JorVaal 5 Lanquist requesting entrance into the silencing field."

"Granted," came the mechanical response.

Amidst a cacophony of chicken cackle, Sam rushed inside. When she placed Cluck on her lap and scratched at Henrietta's fleshy crest the crowd cheered.

"If only Mart were here too! I could almost imagine that we were back home."

Feeling content for the first time since leaving Earth, Sam looked back outside...and wished she hadn't. With his enormous mouth agape, Pent' stood, salivating at her. No, at the chickens.

"What are those creatures?" he thundered.

"Native to Terra. The species Gallus domesticus, more commonly called chickens." JorVaal clapped Pent' on the back. "Hungry?"

Oh, he was hungry all right. Sam tightened her grip on Cluck to protect her from Pent's malevolent stare.

Feisty as always, Cluck protested.

"Um, I'm ready to go to the lounge now." Sam gave the birds one last caress, then left the immaculate green lawn. "Thanks for showing me Mart's pets."

She warily passed by the predatory Pent' to stand by JorVaal. Standing on her tiptoes, she whispered in his ear. "I get the feeling you stopped here only to provoke Pent'."

The sight of JorVaal's grin was well worth the experience of Pent's unbridled lust -- for food.

JorVaal arched his eyebrow. "You do me an injustice, Sophia."

Pent's patience had been tried long enough. Rearing back his head, he roared out into the corridor. "We malinger no longer. Come!"

Even the crowd backed away from his displeasure.

"Certainly, Pent'. Our appetites will be assuaged in just a moment." JorVaal again led the way. "As you can see, Sophia, denying that which comes naturally to us can wreak havoc on our biological systems."

Of course, he wasn't talking about eating, but about that other biological urge. He teased her in the old male-female fashion. Good to know he had a sense of humor.

Well, she'd rise to the bait. "Are you saying your biological system is in tatters?"

"Not mine, dear one. I was referring to yours."

Pent' stormed ahead of them. "You both chatter like magpies on Sirius 3. Silence! Here is the eatery."

Sam welcomed the interruption. The more she came to know JorVaal, the more personal he got.

Bright lights surrounded a circular opening. When they stepped inside the lounge, near total darkness robbed her of sight. She stumbled into JorVaal.

"Sophia, this is Xaspaar's Triumvirate Lounge. So, what is your impression of it?"

Pent' replied instead. "Adequate nourishment, but too decadent for Uortzk tastes. Everything pertaining to the GCC is too decadent."

Before Sam could adjust to the lack of light, JorVaal led her to a table. "I am aware of your sentiments, Pent', but what about Sophia's?"

Sitting down, she glanced at the scene now looming large at her elbow. In fact, the "picture" surrounded the table, engulfing them as if they were inside a globe. Pink blossoms rained down from match-like trees under a vividly lavender sky. The fragrance of lilacs and jasmine combined to form the most stimulating of scents. She felt as if she were really out-of-doors. A natural deep inhalation and exhalation let the tension out of her shoulders, relaxing her body.

"Actually, I think this is very peaceful. Is this a landscape from Xaspaar?"

JorVaal drew his chair closer, which caused their knees to bump. "No, it is from Fredd's planet, Alvitar. Attractive setting, however Alvitar is as potentially deadly as this world. Would you care to see another scene?"

Pent' settled to the right of her. She turned to him and asked, "How about something from your home planet?"

His golden eyes gleamed in the darkness. "No, Lady. The present Uortzk is not our planet of origin. In our history, we have relocated before -- twice. Also, we do not have this weakness that consumes Humans. We have no wish to view a counterfeit version of our world. What is important is here, not there."

With that, he pounded on his chest, the shock waves of which caused her teeth to rattle.

"Now, let us consume!" Pent' slashed his paw in the air. "Favored drinks and food?"

JorVaal nodded. "Yes, that would be best."

Just as Sam was about to question what they meant, entree dishes appeared on the table. Right in front of her was a mile-high bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich. Also on the plate were French fried potatoes. Her very favorite lunch meal. "But how...?"

"Telepathy. Yeamonls on staff." JorVaal crunched on something that looked like alfalfa sprouts and cucumbers.

Pent's entree was as appetizing as raw liver. After he bit into the meat, he asked, "You are pensive, Lady. What troubles you?"

Evidently the food calmed his previously hostile behavior.

Sam had to say what was on her mind. "I, well, to tell you the truth, Pent', at the meeting, you put me on the spot. I don't have any technical training and --"

"But, Lady, we were most anxious to hear your refreshing views on such a ponderous subject. You did not disappoint us. Indeed, your recommendations surprised us all. The wisdom of Terrans is to be praised...and perhaps feared."

JorVaal took a gulp of turquoise liquid. Odd thing though, the liquid had no container, at least none that she could see. Its temporary rectangular shape seemed to float in his right hand.

After a pause, he set his drink down -- somehow. "I was under the impression Uortzks despised giving compliments."

Sam took a bite of her sandwich. Tomato juice dripped down her chin and she hurried to wipe it away. Another odd thing. The bacon tasted similar to the pork and vegetable strips she loved so well, but yet there was a hint of something alien.

With his enormous teeth, Pent' ground his lunch into pulp. "Only worthy persons deserve commendations. And if we may say, we were under the impression that Humans, Xaspaarians in particular, always take care of their sexual drives first, before indulging in food. We are at a loss to understand why you invited yourself to dine with us at this intermission."

Sam coughed. She couldn't help it -- just as she couldn't help the flush of embarrassment heating her cheeks. Heavens, she'd never get used to the GCC's habit of plain speaking about intensely personal matters.

JorVaal rested his elbows on the table and formed a pyramid with his fingers. "You wish to know why, most exalted Pent'? I thought it was obvious. With galactic destruction so near in our future, it behooves me to postpone gratifying any delights that I do not immediately require. Business before pleasure. As you postpone yours, Pent'. Peculiar that there are no female Uortzks presently stationed in Xaspaar City."

Oh, goodness. Sam's appetite fled and she scooted her chair back. "You know, I should check in with the Health Bureau now. They mentioned it would be a good idea for me to be early --"

Pent' flung out his muscular arm to stop her from rising. "No need to run, Lady. We challenge the mighty JorVaal to temper his intemperate tongue."

The Uortzk then drew closer to JorVaal. Only mere inches separated them. "As we mentioned before, you have the bearing of a Brhite. Indeed, worse. To satisfy your sordid inquisitiveness, I shall address your contemptible insinuation. We who are of Uortzk are warriors! Females have no place in dealings with the GCC. Hard, decisive action is what is required here with you soft, puny negotiators. Females are meant for breeding. We of Uortzk are not here to breed!"

Sam'd had enough of this entertaining banter. She placed her napkin in a heap on the table and stood. "I'm not running away, Pent'. What's there to run from? Back on Earth we always talk about sexual inclinations with our most casual acquaintances. Doesn't everybody?"

If she didn't get away -- and fast, she'd probably die from mortification right here in the lounge. "If you will both excuse me."

She didn't wait for their replies. With a quick pivot, she left the table and fumbled her way in the murky darkness. Too bad Fredd wasn't here, sans visors, to help her locate the exit. She spotted a dim light encircling an even darker area. Heading for the inky alcove, she suddenly stopped. Or rather was stopped. A familiar hold on her upper arm stayed her movement.

She didn't need to turn around to know who her tormentor was. "JorVaal, please let go of me."

His voice came low and seductive. "Dear one, I am afraid I must interfere. You are walking right into the male relief area."

She blinked. "Oh, the restroom. So, um, which way's out?"

His arm rested lightly against her shoulders. She allowed him this liberty. Goodness knew if left on her own, she'd probably saunter into the garbage disposal unit. Besides, his touch did seem reassuring.

He guided her to the right. "I shall escort you, Sophia -- for my own peace of mind, if not for yours. What is your destination? The Bureau?"

"Well, yes, but I'll just need your help until we get out of this darn...black hole. How does anybody see in here?"

His fingers tapped a gentle beat on her skin. "Perhaps no one cares to see or be seen at the lounge."

That was certainly cryptic.

"However," he continued, "I insist on accompanying you the entire way. Knowing you, you are most likely to lose your way, Sophia."

As they entered the pneumonic conveyor, she didn't protest. He was right, of course, but she wouldn't admit it. She remembered the Health Bureau was on the third level, but which direction?

Moving to a neutral corner, she checked her watch. "Only thirty minutes left until your meeting reconvenes. Surely there's something else you'd rather be doing." Like satisfying his other biological appetites.

"Why do you say that, Sophia? I am content as I am." He smiled. "And besides, it is our meeting. As Nona's proxy, you must also be present."

The conveyor reached the third level and slowed to an even stop. She exited first. "JorVaal, no, I don't belong there. Now, Mart, he's really smart. He'd love to go, but as I said, he's scheduled to begin his treatment in an hour."

JorVaal pointed her in the opposite direction. "Nona is a wily one, as I am certain you noticed. She selected you. You must follow through with your duty. Confer with the doctors, then return with me. The Health Bureau will have everything well in hand."

Indecision clawed at her. Her responsibility was with Mart, but she and he did owe the GCC something. Mart's treatment was provided to him at no cost.

"Well, okay, I agree, but no more questions about what I think. Not during the meeting, anyway. Y'know, all I want to do is get Mart cured and then leave. I have no stake in this."

"You are not committed to the safety of this galaxy's citizens?"

He was twisting her words. "No, I mean I don't belong here. I just want to go home. This..." She raised her arm to encompass the monotonous corridors. "This is not for me."

He stopped her, then looked into her eyes. "Are you certain that returning to Terra is all you want?"

Her heart hammered savagely, causing a powerful thrumming in her ears, her midsection and her loins. Good heavens, what was wrong with her? She broke contact first. She had to; his mesmerizing gaze was making her inch closer and closer to him.

"Yes," she said firmly as she turned and walked down the hallway. "Yes, that's all I want!"

For the first time in her life though, she was not so sure.

At the Health Bureau, JorVaal watched Sophia McLaren pace up and down the length of the reception area. Every once and awhile she would stop and press a button on one of the information wall's announcements. She would barely listen to its sylvan tones before continuing with her pacing.

Worry. What motivated Sophia was worry: worry about her sibling Martin.

JorVaal eased back in his chair to further study this enigmatic female. A long lock of deep, brown hair slid to its freedom from under her ridiculous sports cap. Her brown eyes, matching her hair, grew more troubled as each minute passed. Nona's luminous blouse swayed with Sophia's excess energy, giving him a glimpse of the soft, supple skin on her midriff. His fingers automatically lengthened, intending to caress her stomach...and more.

No. Balling his fists, he walked over to her to still her frantic movement. In her current state of mind, she would no more wish to indulge in coitus than she would desire to address the Council again.

"Sophia, there is no need for you to be so anxious over Martin's treatment. I can assure you the physicians here at the Bureau are the very finest in the galaxy."

She turned her haunted gaze on him. If only he could soothe away her misgivings.

He scratched his chin. Concern for another -- such a strange sensation.

"I'm sure you're right, JorVaal, but medication was supposed to be injected a half hour after the intermission ended -- forty-five minutes from now. And I was scheduled to be present. Why did they do it sooner? Why didn't they wait for me?"

JorVaal rested her tiny, fragile hand in his large one. With his thumb, he smoothed small circles against her silken skin. Again, this action stirred emotions he was unused to.

"The administrator has explained, Sophia. Martin's beta waves had reached optimum frequency. Beginning this treatment was imperative. Any delay would have taken the waves out of range."

She pulled her hand away. "I don't buy that! Why won't they let me see him?"

Such fiery passion from an ordinarily calm, composed individual. Despite the circumstances, JorVaal smiled. Would that Sophia felt the same passion for him. How peculiar to wish for such a thing! Perhaps his interrupted sleep had affected him more than he realized.

"Dear one, as soon as Martin has absorbed the medicine, you will be allowed to view him. This is only a precaution."

Looking away, she made an inarticulate sound, then rushed into a corridor alcove.

Intrigued, JorVaal followed. "What troubles you?"

She remained with her back to him. He gently turned her around, but she refused to raise her gaze to meet his.

"Sophia?"

Her full, bottom lip trembling, she struggled to overcome her emotions. "You see, ever since my parents' death, I've been taking care of Mart. I have this strange feeling I'm letting them down, as well as my brother."

Parents. The image of JorVaal's father was a distant blur in his memory. His mother, still alive, also remained a vague figure in his thoughts.

"What if Mart's in danger?" Sophia's voice contained a ragged edge.

JorVaal raised her chin, desiring only to look into her face and kiss away her pain. While her dark eyes glistened, a translucent drop of water trickled down her cheek. By the stars, it was a tear!

He carefully wiped the wetness away. In all his life, he had never seen a Human tear. Some deeply buried instinct took over and, without thinking about Sophia's reaction, he crushed her to his chest. Surprisingly, she did not pull away, but cried out her distress into the thick folds of his uniform shirt.

Something sacred was passing between them, something hallowed and pure. As awkward as he felt enfolding her in his embrace without satisfying his lust, he adjusted to this new, extraordinary situation. Sophia McLaren needed him; that was what was important. She needed him not as a man, but as a source of comfort. He welcomed serving in this capacity -- for her. His pounding heart confirmed that in this instance, his mind and body were in accord.

Tightening his hold, he drank in her scent of fragrant lilacs. If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn his head was spinning.

A clattering of heels on the polished flooring caused Sophia to separate from him. "Th...thank you for your understanding. I feel better now." She still could not bring herself to meet his gaze, however.

With regret for paradise lost, JorVaal looked at the approaching figures. He stiffened. Years of training and practical experience had taught him to interpret the various facial and body expressions of GCC's fifteen member races. Whatever news these two Humans had, it was not good.

"Remain here, Sophia, to collect yourself. I will be back."

Reentering the corridor, he waylaid the two physicians. A private room would be best for this consultation. Once the door slid closed, he demanded, "What has happened?"

The younger doctor avoided eye contact. "Mighty JorVaal, we did not expect this to happen. Martin McLaren's beta waves exceeded maximum range causing him to sink into a Beta-Siwinski condition." The man ventured a glance at JorVaal, then seemingly lost his voice.

JorVaal frowned. "That should not be a problem."

"True, mighty JorVaal," continued the other physician. "However, the Terran remains comatose. His life readings have dipped to a deleterious level. All attempts to revive him have failed."

"Prognosis?"

The doctor cast a troubled look to her companion, but the younger man was no help. "Our prognosis is not favorable for his reanimation."

For a brief second, JorVaal's shoulders sank with the crushing weight of this information. Defeat never came easily to those in command.

However, acceptance of defeat never came easily either. Pointing a stern finger, he snapped, "Your diagnosis is not acceptable. Martin McLaren will recover, and when he does, he will be free from Beta-Siwinski Disease. Understood?"

Both physicians noticeably blanched.

JorVaal took pity on them. "Every resource of the GCC will be made available to you and your staff -- I will immediately see to it."

"We will do what we can, mighty JorVaal. However, the Health Bureau does not profess to perform miracles."

"Nor am I asking for one. I am merely requesting you to practice the occupation the GCC so generously paid on your behalf." Lest they misunderstand, he added, "I strongly request."

The man and woman bowed their sleek heads. "Yes, mighty JorVaal."

"Good. Continue on, citizens."

After dismissing them, he sighed deeply. No doubt the doctors believed that they had the most impossible job. Not so. He would be the one breaking this news to Sophia. At the moment, he did not relish performing that task.

The timepiece attached to his uniform beeped. Ten minutes until the Council meeting reconvened. JorVaal sighed. His position was such that he could not shirk his duties. Attendance at the meeting was mandatory. Business before pleasure, he had mentioned to Pent'. Responsibility to the GCC before personal preferences. However, he could not let Sophia suffer with her grief.

Punching Fredd's code into the wall locator, he contacted the Alvitan.

"Fredd, I need a favor of you."

Fredd's image wavered, then steadied -- an occurrence similar to the hologram fluctuating in the chamber. Again, JorVaal frowned.

Fredd, seated in the Council chamber, said, "Anything, JorVaal, you know that. But the meeting's starting verra soon. Where the stars are you?"

"I will be there. Fredd, I need Iris to come to the Health Bureau. A problem has arisen with Martin McLaren."

"Blast! Serious?" Fredd's voice squeaked through the intercom.

"Yes." JorVaal paused. "Sophia is also here. I do not want her left alone."

"Poor lass. Not to worra, JorVaal. Iris will be on her way momentarily."

JorVaal drummed his fingers. "And Fredd, tell her to stop by Sophia's quarters and pick up that instrument she likes to play -- a lyre, I believe. Some remembrance from home. Perhaps that might help."

"Yes, sir. Iris will be there in a twinkling." Fredd's image faded.

JorVaal could delay the inevitable no longer. Walking out into the corridor, he braced himself to deliver the most difficult words a leader ever had to say. Only in this case, he would not be speaking as a leader, but as a friend. Or perhaps someone more intimate than a friend.

CHAPTER TEN

In the observation room at the Health Bureau, Mart laid stone still on the impersonal bedding of a hospital slab. Cold, unmoving, and remote. His tan face appeared marble- like: rigid perfection destroyed all of his usual animated features.

Sam swiped away the moisture from her eyes. Her face was sticky with tears. But the time for crying had passed. She gently lifted his hand and massaged his stiff, lifeless fingers.

"Oh, Mart. What have they done to you?"

Her whisper could only have been heard by Mart, but her brother didn't reply.

She swallowed hard. Bending over to kiss his forehead, she returned his arm to his side and walked toward Iris. Fredd's daughter also suffered from over-bright eyes and stuffy sniffles. Weeping took a toll on all body systems. But Sam was not going to cry anymore.

She handed Iris a handkerchief. How thoughtful JorVaal was to ask Iris to keep her company. Somehow consideration didn't seem in character, but then again, perhaps Sam had judged him too soon -- and too harshly. He'd even arranged for Iris to bring the lyre. She fondly glanced at the instrument's tortoise shell bowl and seven melodic strings. To create music, one had to be driven by passion, no matter whether the emotion was positive or negative. Right now neither one drove her; she felt completely empty.

But she did experience compassion for Iris. The poor girl's eyelids were puffed from her grief and the tip of her nose rivaled the redness of her hair.

"Iris, we have to put our sorrow aside -- for my brother's sake. Remember, I had to plead with these automatons to allow us to stay inside with Mart. I mean, wouldn't he be more likely to respond to us than to them?" Sam curved her arm around the girl. "With us crying, chances are Mart will make no effort to break free from his stupor. No man likes to see women's tears."

Iris dabbed at her eyes. "I'm so verra sorra, Sophia. Seeing Martin like this, I feel so guilty."

Sam cocked her head. "Guilty?"

The girl smoothed back a short lock of hair behind her ear. "Aye, yesterday, we had an argument. 'Twas my fault, really. I thought he was looking down on me, because I'm different. My pride smarting, I left him in a huff."

This was news. Sam dropped down into an uncomfortable chair. "What do you mean by 'different,' Iris?"

"You know, the eyes, the lungs, the fingers. 'Bat larvae' is what the other Humans call us. 'Unnatural abominations' is another favorite phrase." Iris lowered her gaze. "Deep down, I knew Martin couldn't be cruel, but I bristled anyway."

Out of all Human emotions, prejudice was the ugliest. And Sam couldn't claim to be free from its offensive grasp. When she first saw Fredd, hadn't she been suspicious of him? A pang of shame stabbed through her. After all, Humans were as diverse as the homelands that bore them. No one fell into the "one size fits all" category.

"Listen, Iris. You're right. Mart's not cruel. And I happen to know he likes you. So, let's you and me put our heads together and think of something that will help him out."

Sam sank her chin in the palms of her hands. "There has to be something we can do. There has to be!"

JorVaal read the latest data on the Uortzk binary star's increasing decay. Shaking his head over this indisputable and irresponsible course of self-destruction, he sighed. "So, the report confirms it. Pent' and his people are responsible for Rama's instability."

From his position in the Central Control room, Fredd also reviewed the information. "Aye, that's so. The Uortzks canna dispute the cold, hard facts. But why they'd want to blow up their sun and their planet to kingdom come is a mystery, to be sure."

Rama's destruction would also obliterate the Uortzk solar system as Fredd stated; one event would trigger the other. Pent's people had no hope of escaping. Interpreting alien psychology was always difficult at best, but these actions...these actions defied logic in all fifteen GCC member races.

JorVaal tapped his foot. "What about the sudden surge in static interference disturbing the hologram images in the Council chamber?"

"Still researching," was Fredd's reply.

JorVaal turned to the two other people contained within the silencing field. "Liisan, Mirabelle, have you any input as to the reason behind the Uortzk self-annihilation?"

Before either had a chance to reply, a writing implement close to the edge of the desk jiggled on its own, then fell to the floor. A picture shook on the wall and the chairs vibrated in sympathy.

"Quake?" Fredd suggested.

A beep on the systems console answered the question. "Seismic activity originating from the Great Helena mountain chain, sir. Dry Gulch also spewing small amounts of ash and debris into the atmosphere."

"Routine emissions?" JorVaal pressed a button to reply. The volcano had been dormant since before Humans arrived on Xaspaar. These small quakes and volcanic belching occurred periodically during that period of time. No cause for concern now.

"That is correct, sir," came the monotone response from the console. "Instruments indicate the tremors have already subsided."

"Good. Thank you, citizen." JorVaal ended communication. He turned back to the group. "As we were saying, ideas on Uortzk behavior?"

Liisan extended upward a centimeter or two and waved her foremost limb. "With regrets, I cannot offer insight. Hidden stay Pent's thoughts. Other than a fixed, determined purpose, all else remains blank."

JorVaal nodded. "Understood. What is your analysis, Mirabelle? Of late you have been working closely with the Uortzks. Pent' in particular. Can you shed some light on their plans?"

Her fair skin reddened across her cheeks. She had been unaware of JorVaal's instruction for surveillance on the Uortzk contingent. Perhaps if she had known, her visits would not have been so blatant. Mirabelle's after-hours presence in Pent's quarters was especially puzzling.

JorVaal stroked his chin. Of a certainty, she was embarrassed by his knowledge of her activities.

She fluffed out the soft burnished curls around her face, then looked him straight in the eye. "I am also sorry that I cannot help you. Pent' and his people only desired information about the upcoming Olympic Trials. On any other subject, they refuse to comment."

Her words made sense, and yet JorVaal was alerted to a subtle change in her demeanor. Her emerald eyes narrowed to slits, revealing neither warmth nor internal secrets.

He glanced at Liisan for confirmation. The Yeamonl rose another fraction of a centimeter -- a discreet indication of her disapproval.

"I see." He moderated his tone to keep it noncommittal. "As of this moment then, we must concentrate on obtaining facts to avert the impending disaster. Fredd, you're in charge of researching Sophia McLaren's simple yet sensible recommendation."

Mirabelle snorted. "Fill the black hole's belly! How inane. What does that Earther think a black hole is -- a gigantic debris chute?"

Fredd wagged one of his long fingers at her. "As elementary as the suggestion is, perhaps the lass has the right of it. Do you have a better idea, Mirabelle?"

For want of a better word, Mirabelle sulked.

"Exactly so," JorVaal agreed. "Liisan, you will use your telepathic ability to facilitate idea formulation in the Rama troubleshooting group."

The Yeamonl indicated her acceptance of this task.

And now it was time to further annoy Mirabelle. He folded his arms across his chest to study her. "And, Mirabelle, I ask that you continue your nocturnal activities with Pent'. What better way to catch him off guard than to cater to his biological desires?"

She reddened again, but this time not with embarrassment but with anger. "I have not and...and I will not!"

The flash from her almond eyes was explosive in its intensity. Her strong hands tightened into fists. He did not need Liisan's ability to know Mirabelle wished to throttle him. He could admit he had earned her hostility. Even so, he could barely hide a grin. The last time he had lain with her was only two days ago, and yet desire for a repeat performance had long since died. Indeed, how strange that since that time, he'd remained celibate.

Not that he wanted to. Lately, it seemed that the only woman he thought about was Sophia.

"JorVaal!"

Mirabelle's sharp voice shook him out of his reverie. "JorVaal, I protest your...your insinuation."

He shrugged. It was Mirabelle's prerogative to copulate with a Uortzk. After all, why else would she visit his quarters? He had no idea she had such aberrant tastes in bed partners. Imagining Mirabelle and Pent' together, he had to suppress another chuckle. The logistics of the coupling had to be...somewhat painful. And perhaps that was why female Uortzks were not needed here. Evidently, Human females could satisfy male Uortzk biological desires.

An unsettling thought at best, but perhaps he was jumping to conclusions.

Fredd fielded a call on JorVaal's personal communication line. The Alvitan listened to the transmission, then tried but failed to suppress a smile. His leathery face puckered from the effort. "Nona requests a word or two with you, JorVaal."

"Does she?" JorVaal activated Nona's call. "More likely she requests an entire dictionary."

"I heard that, boy!" came Nona's familiar voice. "Just because you're the head of the whole shooting match here on Xaspaar doesn't mean you can show disrespect to your great, great, grandmother."

Thank the stars he'd switched on the privacy signal. "Apologies, Nona. Now that you have my attention, what is your concern? I am in a meeting with --"

"Bother! You're always in a meeting."

Her image on the televiewer showed that she was working herself up into a frenzy. Every inch of her loose skin wobbled. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her wrinkled brow. "You must calm down, Nona. Take a deep breath. It is for your own good."

Surprisingly, she listened to him. After a brief pause, she pointed her finger at the televiewer. "I'm fine now, no thanks to you. I want to know about Sam. She was supposed to get back to me after the Council adjourned for the day. How'd she do as my proxy?" Nona smacked her thin lips. "I bet she kicked some butt!"

JorVaal shifted in his chair. His relation's colorful manner of speaking had caused him embarrassment more than once in his life. Again, he was thankful that no one else could hear her comments.

Liisan and Fredd gestured that they wished to get started on their assignments. JorVaal nodded dismissal. Mirabelle also stood, but he waved her to sit. He wasn't through speaking with her yet.

"Joe?" squawked Nona. "Tell me, did Sam kick some --"

Exasperation wearied his stamina. He drummed his fingers against the hard surface of the wood resin table. "Sophia McLaren gave a good accounting of herself. Although initially, I questioned your wisdom in sending her, the Council representatives, including myself, were impressed with her comments."

She was a game little thing, he had to admit that. Sophia had stood her ground, not buckling under the quelling stares of curious GCC members.

"By jingo, I knew it! So, Joe, tell me what do you think of her."

His thoughts on the very tempting topic of Sophia McLaren were complex and confused, even to him. And sharing them was the furthest thing on his mind. "Later, Nona. At present, Sophia is also at the Health Bureau. Unfortunately, her sibling is not responding to treatment. Indeed, his status is critical."

This news shook the old woman. "Critical? That young sprout? Damn stupid doctors. How can they keep this aged body alive but not be able to save his juvenile one, hmm?"

"Unknown, Nona. However, I will look in on both Martin McLaren and you as soon as I finish here. Promise."

He checked his timepiece. "Now I must sign off." With regret, he watched Nona's worn face blink out of sight. More than anything, he wished that he could be at the care facility, soothing a troubled Nona and also providing comfort to a distraught Sophia.

Stimulating memories returned: memories of her heady lilac fragrance and her soft, warm body pressed closely against him. His loins stirred with desire and anticipation. If only she would allow herself to partake of those delights he freely offered. If only. But now, understandably, she single-mindedly dwelt on her sibling's needs. Nothing mattered so much to her as Martin's welfare.

JorVaal sighed. If only she felt that strongly about him. An unusual inclination on his part -- one of the many peculiar emotions swirling like a tempest inside him. But at the moment, he could not afford these sentimental thoughts. He had delayed his duties and responsibilities long enough. Already thirty-seven communications labeled "urgent" had queued up, awaiting his attention.

As did Mirabelle.

"You wanted me to remain behind, JorVaal?" Mirabelle stood, then with swinging hips, moved closer.

She obviously misunderstood the reason he had detained her. "Yes, Mirabelle, I have another task for you, one that is a great deal easier than the first one I mentioned."

Her lips pouted seductively. Sitting beside him, she slowly walked her fingers up his arm, then massaged the skin by his ear and neck. "You wrong me, JorVaal. I would never debase myself to be with Pent'. In fact, others do not please me at all. It is you I long for."

JorVaal removed her hand. Her touch had lost its excitement.

But she continued her assault. "Tonight, let us both reach the heights of ecstasy once again. Together we will indulge our mutual passions now and forever." As she whispered into his ear, her voice grew husky. "No one satisfies me as you do, JorVaal."

Disturbed, he left his chair to pace the small parameter of the silencing field. Her talk was wild, senseless. Now and forever -- those words bore a strong resemblance to the primitive condition of marriage.

He swallowed his distaste. "My regrets, Mirabelle. I have enjoyed our trysts together, but the time for coupling has past. As always, new men will interest you. You are a very desirable woman."

She paled, but remained silent.

Mirabelle would get over him. She would have to. He continued brusquely, "The task I have in mind is for you to take Iris Desilva's place, allowing her to return to her quarters for the night. She has been watching over Sophia at the Health Bureau. Martin McLaren's situation is very grave and I do not wish for Sophia to be left alone."

Mirabelle seemed to have turned into stone.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Is this assignment a problem for you?"

"No. Not at all." Although her green eyes glittered, she replied coolly.

"Good." JorVaal turned back to his console, deactivated the silencing field, then requested an update on the Rama situation. "My thanks for your help. Good appetites, Mirabelle."

As she left, her reply, "Good appetites, JorVaal," floated back to him.

A chill invaded his backbone, causing him to shudder. Frowning, he studied the new computer data. Mirabelle could take care of herself; after all she'd conducted hundreds of liaisons in her lifetime, same as he. Indeed, the unwritten law on Xaspaar was to keep moving on, to never become attached to anyone.

Until now, he had followed the rules. Until now, Mirabelle also did. But things had a tendency to change. Indeed, daily events were changing more rapidly than he was comfortable with. And JorVaal had a nagging, prophetic feeling deep inside his soul that more changes were in the wind -- changes so revolutionary that living here on Xaspaar would never be the same again.

Again, he could not contain his shudder. Shaking away these strange thoughts, he buried himself in his work.

As Mirabelle strode down the crowded corridor, fury fueled her every movement. As a witch's caldron bubbled over with hot, sticky fluid, so did her emotions writhe and seethe within her. Hate. She hated that Earther. Hated everything about her -- from her pathetically weak body, to her absurd little cap on her asymmetric head. Hate. She'd never before known hate so intense.

Rounding a corner, Mirabelle blindly crashed into a Human.

"Watch where you are going, you clumsy oaf!" With venom in her voice, she stared the man down, causing him to apologize for the mishap.

She continued on her way. JorVaal couldn't be serious. He just couldn't be. How could he prefer that cream pudding of a woman over her own glorious self? He must be made to see the error of his actions. Why, the last time they had copulated had been perfect, as it always was between him and her. She would find a way to make him reconsider, make him regret his dismissal of her.

In the meantime, she would get rid of that contemptible Earther with or without Pent's help. Without, most likely. For some reason, he also seemed enamored of that Earther wench. He had never shared his meal with females before, and what had he done today, but invite Sophia to dine with him!

Mirabelle did a slow burn. One way or another, Sophia McLaren was going to vanish.

But how? Whom could she ask for help?

Another rumbling from Xaspaar's inner core vibrated throughout the passageway. Thrown off balance, Mirabelle collided with another Human, only this time she didn't curse at the man. Here was an opportunity. She'd bumped into none other than Christopher Bainbridge -- a perfect accomplice.

"My apologies," he mumbled, ducking his head with the intent to walk away.

She couldn't blame him for being wary. The way she had brushed off his invitation had been intentionally brutal.

"Christopher, you mustn't blame yourself for my awkwardness."

As she hoped, her conciliatory tone caused him to stop dead in his tracks. She gave him her best winning smile. "Please, you must allow me to make amends."

His naïve mind, due to being born on a third-rate planet, couldn't comprehend the change in her behavior -- which suited her purpose to a tee. "I don't understand, Mirabelle."

She fluttered her eyelashes and outlined her upper lip with her tongue. "Let me show you, Christopher."

Linking her arm in his, she towed the willing Denebian male toward her quarters.

"Damn! Of all the dim-witted, asinine, moronic people! How could I have thought he had enough intelligence to help me?"

Mirabelle kicked the rumpled bedsheets hanging off her bed, then got tangled up in a blanket. Losing her balance, she fell to the floor. "Damnation! Even the sheets reek with that Denebian's offensive scent."

She had endured Bainbridge's insipid kisses and his pathetic attempt at coitus -- all for naught. After he finally panted out his gratitude during orgasm, she'd brought up her tiny, little favor. No names, of course, but just the hypothetical idea of abducting a certain someone.

What did Mr. High and Mighty do? With a strange wetness glittering in his eyes, Bainbridge quickly donned his clothes and left her to clean up this mess. Her anger fading, Mirabelle slumped against the side of her bed. Now what? How could she possibly get rid of Sophia McLaren?

For a brief second, the walls shook. Dry Gulch acting up again -- which was very unusual. Hmm. She had an idea. Yes, as surely as the heads of Janus greeted the rising sun, she had a foolproof, brilliant idea.

Her forehead wrinkled. Whom could she trust? No more Humans. That left only Uortzks.

Hanik. Hanik would help her...if...if she promised to copulate with him.

Her stomach heaved at the thought. Having sexual relations with Uortzks was not something she wished to do. She wasn't crazy. Hanik was an animal in more ways than one. Guaranteed that his carnal appetite rivaled anything she'd ever experienced before. But necessity dictated the action. What other choice did she have? If bedding Hanik insured Sophia McLaren's disappearance, then Mirabelle would sign on for a whole week's worth of that activity.

She winced again. No need to get carried away. One night would be sufficient for Hanik to complete his end of the bargain, but she'd think about that later. Time was growing late. After combing her hair, she headed for the pneumatic conveyor, then requested the Uortzk section of the complex. Once she made the deal with Hanik, she would gladly go to the Health Bureau and hold that Earther's puny hand.

Mirabelle took a deep breath and smiled wickedly. Chances were good that she would be the very last person to hold Sophia McLaren's hand -- while the Earther was alive, anyway.

After plucking the last note of a Roman melody, Sam placed her hand on the lyre strings to still their vibrations. No passion stirred her music as it usually did. Which wasn't unusual. After all, Mart remained the same. What was there to feel passionate about? The music did serve a purpose, though. Iris had been such an angel to keep watch with Sam on this vigil. The melody had been for Iris -- to lull her to sleep.

Now both she and Mart were sleeping. Sam refused to call her brother's catatonic condition anything other than the natural state of slumber.

She gently placed her instrument on the floor, then stood. Pacing the length of the room, she smacked her fist into her hand. "I have to do something -- anything! Dear God, please let me find a way to bring Mart back."

As if in answer to her prayer the door slid open quietly. Hope lifted her heart, only to sink down again. The visitor was Mirabelle Kingsley. Marvelous Mirabelle. How...disappointing.

Slipping on her sports cap, Sam walked over to the woman. "May I help you?" she asked, wishing that the woman would leave.

Mirabelle looked around, her mysterious eyes taking in Mart's inert form and Iris curled up in a chair. "As it happens, Sophia, I am here to help you. JorVaal is very concerned about you and your sibling. He expressed a wish for me to attend to your needs, allowing Iris to return to her quarters."

How very thoughtful of JorVaal! A warm tingle of pleasure spread from Sam's chest to her toes. He was certainly making amends for his initial disagreeable behavior.

"I thank you both for your consideration, Mirabelle. But as you see, Iris is now sleeping."

Actually, to be truthful, Sam had no desire to spend any time in Mirabelle's company. The woman's snooty ways gave her the creeps.

"But Iris would be so much more comfortable in her own bed." Mirabelle slowly moved toward Iris, walking as if she was in pain. "Iris, do wake up now. JorVaal and your father want you to go back to your quarters to relax. I will take your place."

"Um? Oh, Mirabelle!" Iris jumped up, then straightened her tunic shirt. "Oh, that's verra kind of you, I'm sure, but I wish to remain with Sophia and Martin."

Sam fiddled with the lace on her blouse's neckline, realized what she was doing and smiled. There was no need for either her or Iris to feel nervous, even though Mirabelle was like an intruder.

The woman curved her arm around the much smaller girl. "Tomorrow morning will come soon enough. Get some rest, then return after the morning meal. Don't forget, these are your father's wishes."

Sam couldn't be selfish. Mirabelle did have a point. "That's right, Iris. Go ahead. And you, too, Mirabelle. I'm fine here with Mart."

"I would not dream of leaving you alone," was the woman's enigmatic reply.

"Are you certain, Sophia?" Iris' pixie face, flushed pink with sleep, now looked younger than her seventeen years.

"Of course." Sam gave the girl a kiss. "Sleep now and I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

Reluctance stayed Iris' movements, but then she turned toward the door. "'Til tomorrow, then."

Now it was just the two of them. Just why did Mirabelle offer to stay here? A fleeting grimace disturbed her placid features as Mirabelle approached Martin's bedside.

"So here is your own, dear brother."

Sam squelched an urge to push the woman away.

"How very handsome he is." Mirabelle lifted one of his dark, spiky locks, then curled the hair around her finger.

"Please." Sam's protective nature took over. She disentangled the woman's hand and put herself in between Mirabelle and Mart.

Up close, vivid crimson scratches were visible on Mirabelle's neck. Perhaps that was the source of her discomfort?

"I have no wish to upset you, Sophia." Mirabelle wandered over to Mart's chart. "Beta-Siwinski Disease. Is that the problem?"

Sam couldn't help watching the woman, suspicion emanating from every pore.

"Hmm," Mirabelle murmured. "That has something to do with beta waves, doesn't it?"

"That's right."

Mirabelle tapped her chin with a well-formed finger. "You know, I remember reading something about a certain mineral crystal found on the Uortzk planet. The rock is supposed to have a vibrant effect on those who hold it. Shocking the body into consciousness. Do you think it is possible this stone might help Martin?"

Sam walked away from his bedside. "I doubt it. I mean, if it did work, why don't these doctors use it?"

Mirabelle followed her. Shrugging her slim shoulders, she yawned. "Dear me, that does not signify anything. Uortzk folk remedies are generally not studied by anyone in the Human medical profession. As a matter of fact, this Health Bureau is off-limits to Uortzks. Pent' and his people have their own care facility on Xaspaar."

Well, that was interesting. "What's the name of this mineral?"

"I don't remember," Mirabelle said casually. "But, if you like, I can ask a friend."

The hope that had earlier lifted Sam's heart, energized that particular muscle again. After all, what did she have to lose by finding out about this invigorating stone?

She rested her hand on the woman's lithe arm. "If you would, I'd really appreciate it. At this point, I'll try anything to help Mart."

Mirabelle smiled. "It is no trouble. Here, why don't you sit while I use the wall locator?"

She punched in a code and on the mini-viewer, a Uortzk male appeared. Sam carefully listened to the conversation and learned that the Uortzk had some of the rocks in his quarters.

Mirabelle covered the speaker with her hand. "My friend's willing to give you one, but as I said, he is not allowed in this facility. Would you mind meeting him in the junction tube right outside?"

"Sure!" Sam vaulted out of her chair. Maybe Mirabelle's arrival was an answer to her prayer.

The woman finished talking, then carefully sat down next to Sam. "Everything is set. He will rendezvous with you in five point six minutes."

"Thank you so much, Mirabelle. Mart and I are very, very grateful."

Sam smoothed down her blouse's silky material. Something occurred to her. "Bringing in this mineral isn't against the law, is it?"

Mirabelle trilled her laughter. "By the stars, no. Rocks are just rocks anywhere in the galaxy." She then grew solemn. "However, that was an astute question on your part. As you are probably aware, Uortzks and Humans don't get along as well as they should. There is much distrust and rivalry between the two races."

That made sense. Especially in light of the Uortzk star going supernova.

"What about instructions on how to use the stone?" Sam questioned.

"Ah, Hanik will go over everything with you. I don't believe the crystal is difficult to apply." Mirabelle checked her watch. "It is time for you to meet him."

Sam stood and smiled her appreciation. "I'll be right back. Thanks again for helping us. We'll never forget it."

"It is my pleasure, I assure you."

What a turnaround in Mirabelle's behavior. How could Sam have been so wrong about her?

Leaving Mart's room, Sam sprinted down the hallway, into the conveyor, then exited into the Bureau's reception area. As she hurried, excitement sang in her veins. Maybe this "cure" would work. Maybe soon, before the night was over, Mart would be sitting up again, laughing, and telling her to "quit worrying her ear clips over it!"

Oh, dear God, please! She could taste success. She really could.

The doors slid closed behind her, and she stood still to get her bearings. To the right was the junction tube and, hopefully, Mart's salvation. She quickened her pace and entered the shaft. Her heart beat so hard, she felt the pounding in her ears. Standing by a locator map, a Uortzk male waited for her. Although not as massive as Pent', Hanik was of an impressive height.

Sam stretched out her hand in greeting. "Hi, I'm Sophia McLaren and I want to thank --"

"On the contrary," he interrupted. "We must thank you."

Before she had a chance to ask him what he meant, his large, hairy paw came whooshing down against the side of her head. Her question still on her lips, Sam hit the ground -- unconscious.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sam coughed. A sharp, hacking, continuous cough that tore the breath from her lungs. Her senses screaming for air, she inhaled deeply. But instead of breathing in blessed air, she inhaled carbon dioxide. As a reflex action, she coughed again.

Poison. She breathed in poison.

She opened her eyes, then immediately shut them. Tears streamed down her cheeks in protest of what she had briefly seen. Smoke, volumes of smoke, enveloped her as if the very earth was on fire. Even the ground seared her skin. Heat rose up from the dirt like a furnace going full blast.

What was going on? Where was she? She ventured another look, squinting at her surroundings. A thick haze of deadly gas, inky grey in color, swirled and filled the night sky.

Night sky? Sam scrambled to her feet. It was nighttime; she could see a few stars twinkling through the clouds of smoke and ash. But how did she get outside?

When she scratched her head, pain refreshed her memory. The Uortzk, Hanik, had struck her. Without provocation, he had hammered his paw into her skull and threw her unconscious body out here smack dab in the middle of an enormous forest fire.

Dear God, that didn't make any sense! Why would he want to --?

A hard substance hurled down from above and hit her shoulder, burning a hole in her blouse, bruising her skin. Rubbing at the tender spot, she looked down at the thing that had attacked her. It was a rock -- a glowing red chunk of rock. Another one flew at her, then another. A shower of molten debris rode on the raging winds.

Self-preservation kicked in. Sam raised her arm to protect her face, then at full speed, she ran. The ground sloped upward. Blindly into the smoky blanket, she walked, climbed, clawed ahead, looking for shelter. A terrible rumbling from deep inside Xaspaar's belly urged the need for speed. But where was she going? Where would she be safe?

Out of range from the stony downpour, Sam stopped to take inventory of her location. Nothing resembled the idyllic scene from yesterday. No crimson flowers dotted the landscape, no mint-green trees danced in the whirlwinds around her. She remembered the lone mountain in the distance. A volcano? An active volcano?

Through the billowing clouds of ash, she could see a shimmer of orange. As she watched, it grew into a fountain of phosphorescent orange. Lava.

Oh, good heavens! Her hands bleeding from the razor-edged stones, she kept forging ahead. Maybe there was a protected ledge that she could use to take cover. Maybe she could sit through the coming eruption. Maybe...

Oh, what's the use? I'm destined to become charcoal-broiled by hot, lascivious lava.

Hand over hand, she grabbed a large, sturdy rock and pulled herself on top of it to rest. When Xaspaar made its own fireworks, it partied in a big way. Lightning, tremors, mud slides, magma, and mountains and mountains of gas surrounded her. She felt like she had suddenly descended into the depths of hell.

Enough with the travelogue; she'd better get going. Peering ahead, she noticed that she sat on a level region of dirt. Just beyond it was a misty, dark area. A cave? Cavern? Shelter?

She crouched, arms flailing in front of her to move ahead. No obstruction forbid her progress. Touching the opening, she fingered the outline of rock. Yes! It was a cave buried within the mountain. Before she had a chance to enter, she heard a horrible, deafening noise. The next second, an enormous force -- a tremendous pressure -- literally pushed her inside, flat down in the dirt.

The volcano blew its stack.

But it had also blown her to safety. On hands and knees, she inched her way inside. Pitch-black darkness calmed her smoke-weary eyes. Noise from the outside destruction diminished to a dull roar. A wave of thankfulness throbbed through her every pore. Protected inside the cave, she felt around for a comfortable spot. She sank down, rested her head against her knees and began to cry.

She could admit it was the cry of relief, but also of bewilderment. Why had Hanik dumped her in the middle of an erupting volcano? Obviously to get rid of her, but why? And Mirabelle. There couldn't be any doubt that Mirabelle was also involved. But wasn't assault and abduction with intent to kill a bit excessive for merely disliking people from Earth? Or was there something more to it? Something more personal?

Sam wiped away her tears. Now Mart was totally and completely alone -- defenseless. Especially with Mirabelle in the room. But she wouldn't harm him, would she? At least not overtly. After all, the observation room was monitored. And Iris would be back in the morning.

Sam rubbed the sore spot on her head. It probably was morning now. Early morning. Here she sat, all alone, and no one knew her whereabouts. No one who cared about her, anyway. A tiny thought invaded her melancholy. I wonder what JorVaal will do when he finds out that I'm gone.

The pleasurable sensation of his strong arms comforting her at the Health Bureau returned, but her inner censor squashed it. You're nothing to JorVaal. Just a nuisance, and an "Earther" to boot. He's much to busy to worry about your disappearance, anyway.

And even if he knew, how could she be rescued in the middle of a violent volcanic eruption?

With bloodied fingers, she brushed back her loose, tangled hair and leaned back against the cave's rock interior. Her Yankees cap had been a casualty of this night's misadventure. Who knew where it was now, but that was the least of her worries. Nothing much she could do now but rest. Everything had to be put in perspective. She'd survived the savage blow to her head and found a safe haven from the volcano. This was good. Now all she had to do was wait out the eruption and find her way back to the complex.

Right. No telling how long Xaspaar's fury would continue. And what if the GCC wouldn't let her back inside? If they were neurotic about a few outside germs entering the compound, what would they think of her right now, filthy from head to toe with detrimental ash and dirt?

A sudden smile split her lip. Maybe she would survive this mess. Maybe she was destined to see the eyes of Xaspaar's sanctimonious, sanitized citizens grow wide with undisguised horror at the sight of her!

JorVaal spent the entire night in Central Control as did most of the GCC staff. All hell was breaking loose, to use an antiquated phrase, but it described the events to a tee. The sun's early morning rays stole over Xaspaar City's solid, stone walls. However, according to sensors focused on the complex, instead of the compound's granite surface glistening in the dawning light, it was covered with soot and ash from last night's massive eruption.

Getting up from his chair, he arched his back, then ran his fingers through his hair. What a night. However, no injuries had been reported and damage estimates were at a minimum. Things could have been much, much worse.

A Wn-Ganite staff member walked up to JorVaal's duty station, then saluted. "Ssir, insstrumentss report Dry Gulch sshowered debris over 394 ssquare kilometerss."

JorVaal accepted the statistic, but he had lost some faith in "instruments." After all, the volcano's activity had come as a complete surprise -- which was extremely odd in itself.

"Citizen, compute the safety factor for an investigative team to journey out into the rubble."

"But, ssir," the Wn-Ganite protested, "after violent eruptionss like thiss one, ssmaller upheavalss can occur frequently for a period of weeksssss."

The young man was also noticeably tired. Not only his speech betrayed him, but from this proximity, JorVaal could see faint blood vessels pulsing through the man's head. The poor lad needed rest more than JorVaal did.

"I am aware of that, citizen, however I need more data. Pass this assignment on to the new duty team, then retire to your quarters."

"But, ssir --"

"My orders, citizen." To make his statement sound less harsh, he explained, "Bed is my destination as well. A mind without sleep can generate numerous errors, don't you agree?"

The Wn-Ganite bowed his fuzzy head.

"Good. Until later this day." JorVaal watched the man relay the information to his team, then left his own message for Fredd who was due to replace him in nine minutes.

Leaving Central Control, JorVaal bypassed his quarters and went instead to the Health Bureau. He could not rest without first checking on Sophia. Her brother remained the same, this JorVaal knew from the sophisticated equipment monitoring Martin's body rhythms.

But Sophia, how was she holding up under the pressure? And had she been frightened by the tremors that shook the complex? Of a certainty she had been awakened. Everyone from the youngest resident to the oldest -- Nona -- had complained about the noise.

At this early hour, most likely Sophia was still curled up in her chair, resting from the night's unexpected natural disaster.

He reached the observation room and eagerly stepped inside. A quick glance revealed Martin on his bed, but where was Sophia? Only Mirabelle kept watch over the boy. Or rather she slept in the same room.

Squatting down next to her chair, JorVaal gently shook her shoulders. "Mirabelle, wake up."

She opened her eyes and gave him a dazzling smile. "JorVaal, it is so good to see you!"

He returned to a standing position. "Good morning, Mirabelle. Where is Sophia?"

A pout now transformed Mirabelle's lips. "Isn't she back yet?" She yawned, then looked around the room. "Sophia said she had to go out for a minute. I guess I fell asleep."

"What time was this?" He narrowed his gaze to study the woman.

Mirabelle lifted her chin. "Around midnight."

"You slept straight through until now?"

Her green eyes glittered seductively at him. "You know my habits, JorVaal. Once I hit the pillow, I am out for the night, unless stimulated to awaken." Rising, she then moved close to him, pressing her body against his.

He stepped away. "How very odd that you did not hear or feel Dry Gulch's eruption. Indeed, except for Martin, you must be the only person in the complex who obtained a restful night's sleep."

She shrugged away his rejection of her. "So that was what the noise was. Well, I remember hearing something, but then I went right back --"

"Where did Sophia say she was going?" Mirabelle was lying; he knew it and she knew he knew it. But whatever she was covering up would have to wait. First he had to find Sophia.

Like a house-cat, Mirabelle made a move to stretch her lithe form, but she winced before she completed the action. "B...back to her quarters to get something. Sophia didn't say what."

He spotted the lyre in the corner. Iris had procured it as he requested. So what else would Sophia want from her room? If, in fact, Mirabelle spoke the truth. At this point, he was skeptical. After all, she evinced no curiosity about the volcano, and how would she explain away the claw marks on her neck? Damning evidence.

With arms folded across his chest, he pronounced her fate. "You may return to your quarters for a proper repose, Mirabelle. I will handle things from here."

She cocked her head at him, shaking some curls that had flattened during her sleep. "I am refreshed enough to report for duty."

"My orders."

Her eyes flashed. "You cannot blame me for the Earther's disappearance! I am not her keeper. Where she goes makes no difference to me. Why do you care anything about her? She is not important!" Mirabelle stamped her foot for emphasis. "I was here this night to keep her company, as you wanted. It is not my fault she decided to leave."

"Those are my orders, Mirabelle. I shall inform Central Control of your destination and your orders to remain there."

"In effect, you are placing me under house arrest. This is an outrage!" Venom laced her words. "You are making a big mistake, JorVaal."

She pivoted and stiffly walked out of the room. If doors could still slam...

He lowered his voice. "I fear I already have."

Apprehension hastened his actions. Contacting Control, he mentioned Mirabelle's suspension from duty and instructed his aides to keep a watch on her quarters. After requesting a visual search for Sophia and receiving negative results, he notified Control of her disappearance.

What to do next? The GCC machinery now set in motion, it was only a matter of time before Sophia was found. But that was not good enough. He needed to search for her himself. Although a myriad more momentous situations clamored for his attention, he had to wave them aside. For once, personal needs took precedence. He had to find Sophia.

JorVaal rushed over to Martin's motionless body. Taking the boy's limp hand, JorVaal shook it. "We have never been formally introduced, Martin. Your sister seems to feel introductions are important. I hope that one day soon you and I will be able to have a talk. But for now..."

The silence was unnerving, but he felt compelled to continue. "I have bad news for you, Martin. Your sister is missing. I know she never would have willingly left your side. She feels responsible for you, as I feel responsible for her."

JorVaal's stomach muscles twisted with an unfamiliar emotion. The feeling was so strange and unusual that he could not identify it. It had something to do with affection.

He carefully laid the boy's hand back down. "I will find her, Martin. By all the stars in the galaxy, I will find her."

Hours into the new day yielded no clues as to Sophia's whereabouts. Each lingering minute convinced JorVaal that she had been the victim of an underhanded attack. The whys and wherefores were unimportant. At this point, only her safety mattered.

From his window in the receiving area of his quarters, he looked out at the widespread destruction below. The contour of the land had changed, laying flat the proud, tall forests. All that remained were sharp angles of stone and ash -- a wasteland whirling with constant motion from Xaspaar's winds. In the distance, Dry Gulch appeared shrunken. Its majestic peak had been torn apart -- gone, as if it had never been.

He sighed. How humbling to experience the forces of nature that could not be either predicted or controlled.

The DOM interrupted his morose thoughts. "Fredd Desilva wishes to confer with you, mighty JorVaal."

"Good. He may enter."

The small man rushed inside, animation distorting his movements. Perhaps he had located Sophia?

"Fredd, have you found --"

His deputy shook his head. "Nae, I dinna know exactly where she is, but I do know where she's not. JorVaal, the news isn't good."

JorVaal could not help frowning. "I am in no mood for riddles, Fredd."

"Aye, I understand." His voice deepened. "JorVaal, Sophia isn't in the complex, that's why we canna find her. Let me replay a clip from gate twelve's security monitor."

The viewer flickered into clarity. A Uortzk, not Pent', possibly his deputy Hanik, crept by the impassive faces of Janus. Over his shoulder, he carried a Human.

By the stars, he carried Sophia! Whether she was unconscious or dead was unknown.

JorVaal clenched his hands. Into the night the Uortzk trudged with his precious cargo swinging limply down his back. The viewer lost sight of him. For those few seconds, JorVaal gnawed on his lip, drawing blood.

A short time later, Hanik returned to the complex alone.

"When was this recorded?" JorVaal asked even though he already had approximated a time.

"Twelve thirty two, this morning, JorVaal." Fredd wiped at moisture escaping from his visors. "Right before the eruption."

Who could speak in the face of such infamy? JorVaal turned and stared at the shrouds of debris and ash blanketing Xaspaar's landscape. A loss so deep, so overwhelming filled him with despair of a kind he had never known. Sophia. A burning need consumed him. He had to find her, had to hold her once more. Even if it was her lifeless body in his arms.

Sophia. He rubbed away a tear. Without intending to, she had shown him his first Human tear. Now here he was, actually experiencing the biological act of crying. His decision was easy. Indeed, he had chosen his course of action as soon as he had seen Hanik.

"Fredd, the identity of the Uortzk male must be established without a doubt. Both you and I know it is Hanik, make certain Control confirms this before you issue a warrant for his arrest."

Another issue nibbled away at JorVaal. "I also question whether Pent' had knowledge of this. In his own fashion, he seems to be fond of Sophia. However, I am certain that Mirabelle Kingsley is an accomplice, or the prime instigator."

"Aye, will do." Fredd then splayed out his hands. "I canna help but think I'm responsible for this. If I dinna pluck Martin and Sophia from the shelter of their home planet, they would still be --"

"Blame is useless. And there is hope for Martin. A slim hope, I grant you, but I told the Bureau staff that I would not accept failure. Perhaps that will inspire them to find a way to revive the boy."

JorVaal relaxed his fists. "As for Sophia..."

Striding to the wall, he raised his voice. "Procure me a heat resistant suit adapted for the rigors of Xaspaar's post-eruption environment."

"Yes, mighty JorVaal," was the DOM's immediate reply.

Fredd ran over and tugged on JorVaal's sleeve. "What, man? You dinna mean to tell me you propose to go out into that infernal hellhole!"

"That is exactly what I intend to do." JorVaal leaned over his computer-log, and called up the safety data he earlier had requested. Ironic how at that time, he hadn't planned to use it himself.

"But, but, listen, man. You canna go! You're JorVaal, you run the triumvirate. It's too risky."

"I am determined."

Fredd knew a lost cause. "Well then, assign a team to go with you. There'll be hundreds of volunteers --"

"I regret I cannot do that, Fredd." JorVaal looked up from his computer. "Instruments assign a twenty five point seven probability of returning to the complex unharmed. As you say, it is too risky. However, for me, finding Sophia is more important than bodily injury." He owed Fredd an explanation. "All my life, I have been a servant of the GCC. I have performed my duties willingly without thought to my own personal needs." JorVaal paused. "For some reason, this has changed. Although events here are critical with the black hole's imminent evaporation and Rama's rapid breakdown, I must follow my heart on this." He was so confused as to what was happening to him. "An opportunity to experience something I can only guess at has passed. I -- I must grieve in my own way, and that way includes finding Sophia. Can you understand?"

"Aye, sir, that I do. You love the lass -- I canna say it any more plainly." With his chest barreling out, Fredd slowly walked to the door. "I'll go now and get the investigation started. Let me know when you leave. Iris and I will meet you at gate twelve to wish you good luck."

The door swished closed behind him.

JorVaal sank down in a chair. Love? Was love the unsettling emotion permeating his body, his very soul? He consulted the computer log for a precise definition of the word. Love: A deep, tender, inexplicable sensation of affection toward a person. Also, a feeling of intense physical desire.

Love. He had answered his question, no doubt about that. He was in love with Sophia McLaren.

Leaning his head back, he shut his eyes hoping to control his pain. How tragic that he finally discovered love only when it was too late.

CHAPTER TWELVE

JorVaal followed the Uortzk's path as recorded by the security monitor, rapidly moving in a northwesterly direction. The stench of sulfur dioxide was everywhere; escape from it proved impossible. Even his suit's nose filters could not adequately block the poisonous gas now contaminating the atmosphere.

Walking out of the monitor's range as Hanik had, he scanned Xaspaar's now alien landscape. This barren stretch of dull grey death was Sophia's last known location. Tendrils of smoke rising from the still-hot ash swirled together to create a scene of scorched waste. Deadly quiet ominously rang through his hearing sensors. Nothing living. No sounds and no movements other than the smoldering cinders dancing to Xaspaar's heavy winds.

He wiped grit from the surface of his facial heat shield. Either Sophia had walked away from this spot, or she was buried beneath mounds of blistering debris.

A muscle tightened in his mid-section. As a last resort, he would act upon the latter conjecture, but for right now he would proceed as if she had regained consciousness. Perhaps she had been able to take shelter before Dry Gulch blew. But which way would she have gone?

Abrasive grain pummeled the shiny surface of his heat resistance suit. Which way?

He turned away from the breeze. Perhaps to escape the winds and the destruction it carried, she had traveled north, climbing up one of the Great Helena mountains. Yes, the more he thought about it the more likely it sounded.

Covering the ground slowly and thoroughly, so as not to miss any traces of her whereabouts, JorVaal advanced up the incline. The internal temperature inside his protective garment swelled with his efforts, but he persisted at a grueling pace. Sharpened rocks cut the suit's material, tearing at his skin. A river of sweat streamed down his face and neck, drenching his chest. Fatigue blurred his vision.

But nothing deterred him. Something intangible spurred him on. He was on the right track; he just knew it. Somehow, somewhere Sophia was here. Hope flooded his body. If only she were alive. If only...

In the distance, Dry Gulch belched a warning cloud of smoke to further pollute the sky. Another reason to hasten his footsteps. As he cleaned his facial shield again, a spot of color caught his eye. He stared at it. Stuck in a hardened crevice of stone was a splash of color. Something dark blue brightened this wasteland of sooty grey. By all the stars! JorVaal gave a silent yelp and snatched up Sophia's sports cap. Crushing the hat to his heart, he blinked away the wetness on his face, this time though, it was from his eyes.

"Dear one," he murmured in the solitude of his protective suit. "I will take this as a sign. A sign that you are nearby -- alive and well."

Ugly reason intruded. Logic insisted that the cap could have blown off her insensate head and breezed up here on its own. Logic spoke from the intellect. For the first time in his life, he wanted to listen to his heart.

Grunting, he ignored his pessimistic thoughts and concentrated on the positives. Chances were good that Sophia had rambled this way on the mountain. Chances were also good that the wind had plucked her hat while she climbed. He stuffed the cap into a side pocket and continued his ascent. Regretfully, he could not shout his concern for her. His suit was not equipped to emit sound.

A large outcropping of rock blocked his ascent. Hauling himself on top of the boulder, he then rested against its jagged surface. But not for long. Three meters in front of him was a real, undeniable cave. Abruptly, he rushed for it, not paying attention to his surroundings. The weight of his left leg broke through a ridge of solidified ash.

Blast! He sank down, imprisoned to his upper thigh in an intemperate caldron of fire. Heat seared through the suit and the tears, burning his skin. Cooked Human flesh was not a reassuring odor, especially one's own flesh. He stretched to his limit, grabbed onto a sturdy vine and pulled himself out.

Just then he heard a terrible bellow that raised every hair on his body. Dry Gulch let loose with its fury one more time. Scrambling to escape the volcano's wrath, he elbow- crawled his way inside the cave. Not fast enough. A stone the size of a huge orapple plummeted down and landed squarely in the back of his head. The stars he saw had nothing to do with Xaspaar's skies.

Dragging himself slowly over the dirt floor, JorVaal felt consciousness slowly seep from him. Blackness filled his vision, replacing awareness with eternal night. He stilled his movements, surrendering to the inevitable. A sense of peace and serenity swept over him, calming his racing heart. Perhaps he had approached nirvana, for a lovely angel hovered by his side, her long, flowing hair cascaded down over her slender shoulders.

The angel in his imagination was Sophia, and she held his shielded head in her lap. With his last breath, JorVaal smiled. If this indeed was heaven, he did not ever wish to leave its pearly gates.

Getting off JorVaal's helmet had been difficult, but somehow Sam managed. First tending to his head wound, she then removed the rest of his outer garment and spotted charred holes on the legs of his GCC uniform. A large gash on his thigh showed red, burned skin already forming blisters.

Dear, dear JorVaal. She bit her lip to contain her joy. Seeing him here was a miracle -- a blessed miracle. He'd risked his life to save her and she was forever grateful. Just as she was grateful that he hadn't been seriously hurt.

He moaned in his sleep, recalling her to her task. She didn't have any medicine to clean the burn, but she did have water.

She tore off another long strip of material from her tattered pants and dipped it into the pool of water located in the back of the cave. Illuminated by pinpricks of artificial light, the pond also had a miniature waterfall carefully arranged in the middle. A small fountain bubbled water over smooth, flattened stones and crystalline rocks. The gurgling noises soothed and relaxed -- agreeable sounds in the midst of an erupting volcano.

How amazing to have this quiet, peaceful sanctuary hidden in the side of the mountain. When she'd first entered, all had been dark and quiet until she'd stumbled into the pool's cool waters. At that moment the tiny lights dotting the perimeter sprang to life, as did the rippling fountain.

Sam didn't question her good fortune. The serene waters had revived her from her ordeal, and now they would help JorVaal.

His leg was raw and painful looking. She gingerly applied the wet cloth and flinched even as he flinched in his sleep. When she finished bandaging the area, she placed his head back in her lap and with her fingers massaged soft circles at his temples.

He'd come to rescue her! How in heaven's name had he found her? Tears, so recently shed, began to flow again. She entwined her hand in his and gazed down at his now-relaxed face. Happiness overwhelmed her. Outside, the volcano spit out poisoned gases, but inside the cave, she was happy here with JorVaal -- Joe. That he found her was another miracle. That he wanted to was yet another.

She caressed the roughened skin on his angular jaw. He shouldn't have come, it was far too dangerous. Goodness only knew how the two of them would get back to the complex. But that was a future worry; in the present, she was content. Here she had him all to herself in the romantic atmosphere of an improbably placed waterfall.

Now restless, he thrashed his head about. She placed more fabric under his head to cushion the nasty bump that he'd recently received. After she finished, she looked down at him only to find him gazing at her intensely. His expression was one of wonder.

Nervous butterflies settled in her stomach. Raising his hand, he skimmed her cheek.

"You're not an angel."

She couldn't help but grin. "I never said I was."

Instead of returning her smile, he mulled over her words. "You're here."

"Yes, of course. And you are, too." A wave of heat pulsed through her core. "I have to thank you --"

"No." He quickly sat up. Too quickly. He must have felt a flash of pain, for he took a moment to continue. "No, Sophia, don't thank me. I...I..."

He leaned toward her and fingered a lock of her hair. "I thought you were dead."

Why was it that in the middle of euphoria a person always started to cry her eyes out? She was no different. Her throat thickening, she struggled to get the words out. "Oh, Joe, I thought I'd never see you again."

He roughly drew her into his arms. "Sophia."

With that declaration, her brain ceased to function. Surely she'd finally found heaven. Lifting her lips to his, her heart and soul took over. Their first kiss wasn't tentative. It was violent, wild, and exciting. He completely captured her, deepening the kiss until she was only able to breathe in short, raspy breaths.

Confused, she pulled away. Her feelings were so strong, so powerful. Goodness, her heart seemed to want to hammer its way out of her chest and her entire body was quivering like a mass of tumbleweeds! She'd never responded this way to anyone before. Or maybe she'd never been kissed with such burning, unwavering passion. The latter was, of course, the case. No Earthman she knew could hold a candle to JorVaal 5 Lanquist. But nonetheless, her emotions left her slightly scared.

He trailed kisses down the soft curve of her neck. "Sophia, dearest one, what is happening between us is right. I need you as you need me. Together we will be as one." He kept up his assault on her ravaged senses.

Moaning, she shivered with delight.

"Yes, my sweet, let me love you." He feathered kisses on her shoulders, the crook of her arm, the inside of her wrist -- everywhere. "We are meant to be together."

His touch created the strangest aching she'd ever experienced. Never had she felt such a compelling need, a wanton desire. As he kissed her, he plunged his tongue deep into her mouth, spiraling her body and soul into unknown territory.

"Oh, Joe. I..." Her words came in spurts. "I can't think. I can't --" What was happening to her?

"Don't think, my love." He slid his palms down against her sensitive breasts, stroking her until her nipples peaked. His actions enflamed her overloaded senses and she buried her face in his neck.

"Ah, you cannot hide, sweet one." Very gently, he guided her down on the dirt, then pressed his length against her.

His warmth permeated her. She trembled with such intimate contact, but by everything that was wonderful, she loved it. Inhaling his male fragrance, she slipped her hands up his shirt and hugged him tightly.

A lifetime or two later, he kneaded the concave curve of her stomach. "Let me love you, Sophia," he repeated as his lips brushed her ear.

Love. He mentioned that word again. She gazed into his eyes now misted with longing. Could he possibly love her?

That answer wasn't important; trusting her instincts was. She gave him a wide grin. "Only if you let me love you, Joe."

He sighed a heartfelt sigh. "Agreed!"

His fervent kiss drove away all thoughts but those of love and passion. Slipping off her silky top, he followed suit with his own shirt. Soon, the rest of the clothes lay in a heap by their sides.

His hand slid between her bare thighs, over her hips, then cupped the round swell of her buttocks. "Ah, Sophia, you are so beautiful."

Desire burned deep within her, begging for release. Who knew what the future held, but why care? What was first and foremost was the here and now, the combining of their love. Joe's heated breath mingled with hers, and he carefully eased into her. At first he moved slowly, gently breaking the barrier separating their fulfillment.

Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought losing her virginity would be so pleasurable.

He stilled his movements, concern for her showing on his furrowed brow.

She smiled. "I feel wonderful, Joe. Oh, but hurry. Hurry!"

With sweat glistening on his corded neck, he complied, his thrusts grew fierce and demanding.

Sam moaned. Being with him did feel so right. Her entire universe compressed down to this small space inside one of Xaspaar's many caves. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else except being in the circle of Joe's strong arms. Lifted up on the wings of love, she couldn't control her cries of delight. Together they moved as one in a timeless ritual of mating. It was all so new, and yet it was as old as time itself.

Release came swiftly and urgently. The beauty of it coaxed tiny tears from her eyes. After their climax, she hugged him, never wanting to let go.

"Sophia, dear one." His heated words warmed a part of her that she'd never known existed. "I vow I will never lose you again."

If hugging him tighter was possible, she did, and she also said a silent prayer. No matter what fate had in store for them, she was grateful for this blessed moment.

JorVaal immersed his hand into the clear cool water of the sanctuary pond. A body of water with any depth was unknown to him and he watched in amazement as Sophia dipped under the surface, then reappeared again. Droplets of wetness streamed down her lovely face, clinging to her long, dark hair.

She tugged on his arm to persuade him to join her.

"No, Sophia. Most certainly I would sink to the bottom as a two-ton barbell. So, this is the activity known as swimming."

"Yes, of course. C'mon! It's such fun."

He shook his head. No need to press his luck. Although Xaspaar did contain lakes and oceans, no one had ever ventured close to the waters' shores. Swimming was as unfamiliar as a starless night -- indeed as the night itself to most Xaspaarians.

"Chicken!" Laughing, she splashed him, then dived down to the base of the pool. Her unclad form flashed and shimmered in the wavering lights while her hair cascaded in all directions, floating on the ripples of her movements. He had never seen such a beautiful sight.

He waited until she resurfaced. "What does Gallus domesticus have to do with me?"

She laughed again and the joyous sound echoed throughout the hollow chamber. "Oh, Joe! You're funny. Goodness, but I feel so glorious!"

"Yes, you do." Carefully leaning over the edge, he stole a sweet, tender kiss. An inner contentment filled him. He had never known such bliss. Whom could he thank for this shining, vibrant miracle?

"Sophia, in truth, the powers-that-be are smiling down on us. How else can I explain that I actually found you -- alive -- and without any help? The probability for these events must be astronomical." He scratched his chin bristling with unshaven growth. "And for you to have blindly wandered into JorVaal's Folly!"

Central Control's instruments most likely would experience shut down on computing those improbable statistics.

Sophia propped herself up on her elbows. "This fabulous cave is yours? Tell me about JorVaal's Folly." She winked at him. "Folly? Heavens, I thought you were perfect!"

A wanton expression passed over her delicate features. Hungry for her once again, he cupped her chin to possess her honeyed lips. "Not me, dear one," he said, coming up for air. "This haven was created by the first JorVaal, Nona's husband."

Sophia left the pool and sat by his side. "Sounds fascinating. Keep going -- I'm all ears."

Eyeing her breathtaking body, he grinned. "I disagree!"

His witticism earned him a punch on the arm. "Ah, where is your sense of humor, dear one? But to continue, when I was growing up, Nona would spin tales of long ago. I have my regrets now that I did not pay closer attention. Evidently, the First was unusual in that he desired communion with Xaspaar's natural forces. To the dismay of the newly formed GCC Council, he built a sanctuary inside one of many mountains in the Great Helena range, so the tale goes." JorVaal shrugged. "I had thought this merely gossip, however the proof is right before our eyes."

Sophia's perfumed fragrance drifted over to him, causing his senses to reel. "I must differ with you, Sophia. It is you who are perfect." He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "You have no rival in beauty here on Xaspaar nor anywhere else in the galaxy."

A heated blush crept over her cheeks. "Goodness, but you're a flatterer! I think I'll paraphrase you on your comment to Pent'". She deepened her voice. "'I was under the impression JorVaal despised giving compliments.'"

He bowed his head. "I shall also quote my esteemed adversary. 'Only worthy persons deserve commendations.'" He kissed her hand. "And you, my dearest one, are most worthy."

Time passed pursuing an activity also most worthy.

However, his previous words put him in another frame of mind. "Speaking of Uortzks, the Council has Pent's deputy, Hanik, under house arrest. When we return, I shall personally make certain he suffers for his unconscionable act. But I am curious. What did he say to entice you from your brother's bedside?"

Sophia curled up against his side. "Well, Mirabelle mentioned a Uortzk rock that might help Mart wake up. Of course, I was interested. She contacted Hanik and he said he'd give the stone to me." Sophia shuddered. "I had no idea Mirabelle hated me so."

"Mirabelle is also being detained. Most likely inappropriate desires motivated her contemptible misdeeds."

Considering his words, Sophia grew still. "Has there been any change in Mart's condition?"

JorVaal wished he could give better news. "No. But do not give up hope."

"I won't." Her eyes brightened. "I feel magic in the air. You and me, here, alone. You know, by rights I should be dead."

He placed his finger on her lips. "You mustn't say that, ever. Such talk disturbs me." To distract her, he scooped his arm into the pool and pulled up a handful of liquid. "Come, let us refresh our fevered bodies."

"Oh? You're going to be brave?"

He gritted his teeth, then slipped into the endless water. A brief moment of panic surged through him until his feet found the carved bottom.

"Those are blasphemous words, woman!" He felt so buoyant, so unsteady. Taking a few tentative steps, he rather liked the sensation. It was as if the pull of gravity was at one half of Xaspaar's. Laughing, he tugged Sophia down into the water and rubbed her alluring form against him.

"The First had even more wisdom then I realized. What a delight this swimming is. I can envision the First and Nona walking stealthily from Xaspaar City's harsh stone walls to journey up into his pool. I picture them doing this, and this."

With those words, he crushed Sophia to him and slid his hands down her gentle curves to her tempting buttocks. Ah, fondling her was sheer ecstasy indeed. When his fingers began to stray, she slid away and ducked under the water.

"You are insatiable, Mr. Lanquist! But tell me, why did everyone call this a folly?"

"Good question." He sighed, partly from denied longing and partly from not knowing the answer. "As I mentioned to you, we do not relish the outdoors. My theory is that living inside spaceships for nearly 150 years created this phobia. Generations were born never experiencing anything but Humankind's artificial environment. The First was born during the great galactic flight, so he was familiar with the Great Purge that occurred during the journey."

"The Great Purge?"

"Yes, that is why we despise Terra and the old ways. The Great Purge wiped the slate clean as far as Humankind's past. The GCC concentrates only on the present and the future." JorVaal brushed a kiss against her cheek. "I confess that I too was caught up in the hate-mongering against your home planet. However, I see the error of my ways. How can I denigrate Terra when it has produced you?"

Moans of pleasure now reverberated throughout the tiny cave.

Sophia panted hard, but a question marred the smooth line of her forehead. "But if that's so, what about Janus? How can your people claim to be free from Earth ties when your city gates are protected by an ancient Roman god? And your government is a triumvirate -- also of Roman origin. Who knows what other areas are affected by Earth's culture?"

JorVaal glanced at his tattered heat resistant suit. Although the falling rock had destroyed the instrument by which Central Control tracked him, the signal had been strong up until that time. It would not take rescue crews very long to locate him. The only limiting considerations were Dry Gulch's status and the safety factor of the outside conditions. Soon -- too soon -- volunteers would barge their way inside the cave, interrupting his idyllic bliss.

"Joe?"

He ran his hand over his wet hair. Responsibility was on its way to claim him again. "Ah, yes. I feel the First was responsible for this link. After you so eloquently opened my eyes about Janus two days ago, I did some research on these Romans. A raw and untamed people. Not to pass judgment, but facts are facts. Evidently their duty was to spread civilization to the surrounding barbaric lands."

JorVaal drummed his dripping fingers on a flattened rock from the fountain. "Apparently, the First admired these Romans. Even as a young one, he rebelled against the Great Purge. Somehow he must have managed to persuade the Council to incorporate Roman ideas. Perhaps he disguised the source of his inspiration. After all, he was known as a wise leader."

She grinned. "Who would have guessed that at the heart of the galaxy, the god of beginnings, Janus, would worm his way into the hearts of anti-Earthers?"

"Just as you have inched your way into my heart."

Their kiss satisfied a thousand yearnings while creating a thousand more. However, even as he fondled her wonderfully smooth skin, a worry niggled his conscience. During orgasm, he had lost control -- unthinkable for a Human. As he had told Nona, there could be no fertilization without his express cooperation. But somehow, his body forgot the safeguards instilled into him. Never in his life had he ejaculated sperm. Never, that is, until his lovemaking with Sophia.

A muscle tightened in his mid-section. He did not have the right to impregnate her against her will, or without her knowledge. Although, it would be a tremendous honor to be the mother of his son. However, Sophia was not the typical Human. She would tell him in no uncertain terms what he could do with the "honor."

In spite of himself, he smiled. His son would benefit from Sophia McLaren's spirited DNA material.

But all this was conjecture. Chances were high that fertilization had not occurred. Besides, she was not ready for the responsibility. Of course, if they had created a baby, the embryo would be transplanted into the Breeding Concave.

Her urgent demands cut short his pensive thoughts. Quivering with passion, she firmly guided him to her most intimate spot. She needed him now. Her body begged for release. JorVaal slowly maneuvered his hardness into her soft, moist femininity, savoring the sensation. He would make certain his loss of control would not happen again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Encircling Xaspaar's brown and blue orb, She darted her invisible mass over the mountains, valleys, and oceans. Worry distorted her wave emanations. To use a Human term, She fidgeted.

"I cannot contain myself," She complained to her partner. "JorVaal and Ms. McLaren have been isolated for three days now. They do not have any sustenance." Her transmission lost its strength. "I fear for them."

He extended a tendril of sympathy. "They do have water. They will be able to survive until the rescue team arrives."

She took care to avoid the clouds of pollution billowing up into the atmosphere from the active volcano. "The team delays! At this rate, they will never arrive in time. Ms. McLaren requires nourishment. The future depends on it."

"Always impatient, my own one."

Although his words could have been interpreted as a rebuke, She knew He was as fond of her at this moment as he had been when the galaxy was first created.

"We need to provide assistance," She insisted.

"Again? This situation is proving to be most irregular."

She puffed up her bodiless form. "Indeed it is! How could you categorize the destruction of the Milky Way Galaxy otherwise?"

Humor nibbled through his tone. "It serves no purpose to disagree with you. You have another plan. In what way do we help the Humans now?"

Pleased, She weaved her molecules through his. "You are correct, I do have a plan. Let us journey down to Xaspaar's surface and visit the GCC Health Bureau."

Mart strained. With every cell of his being, he strained against the paralysis blanketing his body. He pushed, he shoved, he urged anything and everything to wake up from this living hell, but no part of him obeyed. Slugs! He sank back in defeat -- but only in his mind. No observer would have noticed any change in his position.

What had gone wrong? This treatment, the first of many, was supposed to start retraining his brain to reduce beta wave production, bringing his rhythms in line with the normal range. But he'd gotten anxious, and when the doctors injected him with the serum -- Bam! Instant, continuous blackout.

He'd tried and tried to break through, but it looked as if he was destined to become Xaspaar's first living corpse.

"Don't give up, Mart. Keep trying. Do it for me. I need you."

Sam's voice penetrated the darkness of his despair. "Sam?" he called out in his mind. "Sam, are you here?"

Again, he heard her, this time calling to him from a distance. "Mart, I need you."

Sam was right. He couldn't give up. But there was something else. Something was wrong. He could sense she wasn't by his side, so where was she? Also, another impression of something out of whack hammered at him, but what was it? He strained again. It was a memory of JorVaal. JorVaal had leaned over Mart, saying something. He hadn't been able to make out the words, but JorVaal's tone had contained grief.

Grief. And Sam was gone.

Gone! By the comets, here he was, lying uselessly on a hospital bed while Sam was in danger. No damn disease was going to keep him in a horizontal position forever. No damn way. He pushed against his enemy. He ordered his body to move -- wheedling, imploring, demanding that he break free. "Come on, come on, do it. Do it!"

Sweat leaped out on his forehead. Mart inwardly grinned. Sweat was a good sign. Harder and harder he pressed. Finally, he got his reward.

"Oh, look! He moved. I saw him blink."

Iris' soft lilting voice floated through the unnatural block surrounding his brain. He heard her; he actually heard her. If only he could see her cute face.

"There! Dinna you see? He's trying to smile fer us!"

Another female voice -- hostile and marble cold in its inflection -- pounded Mart's ears. "By the Core, you GAHs tend to hallucinate. Smile! Of all the preposterous things."

If it was possible to stiffen further, Mart did. Instinctively, he despised the woman, whoever she was. But her word, GAH, what did that mean? He received his memory back with a sudden jolt. Genetically Altered Humans, that was what Fredd had told him. Nothing wrong with that, only the way that woman talked, GAH had a derogatory ring to it.

The voice harassed him again. "I must insist that you leave, Iris Desilva. You have no business here in the observation room. And, to be frank, I find you bat larvae types repulsive."

That did it. Mart seethed and burned his way to consciousness. Jumping to an upright position, he glared at the wedge-shaped woman responsible for the mist of tears in Iris' eyes.

"You!" He poked the female's bulging biceps. "You have no right to speak to her like that. I want you out of here now. Scram."

"Martin!" Iris started shaking from the top of her wavy, red hair to the tips of her sandal-clad feet. "Martin, I canna believe it. 'Tis a miracle."

The attendant was less than happy. She paled as if she'd just seen a ghost spring to life. Then her fleshy lips pinched together. "Martin McLaren. This is highly irregular -- "

"Just leave." He hopped off the bed and awkwardly walked to Iris. Geez, his body felt as rigid as if he'd been soaked in liquid nitrogen. How much time had he spent like a cadaver?

The woman blocked his path. "Please return to the bed. I have to monitor --"

"Go, or I'll call the docs and lodge a complaint." Arms folded against his chest, he tapped his foot and waited.

She shrugged her massive shoulders and left the room, muttering, "Earther!"

Free from the woman's poisoned demeanor, Iris rushed to him and hugged him. "I canna believe our prayers have been answered. Oh, Martin, I've missed you. I'm so verra sorra about our misunderstanding." Her sandy eyelashes fluttered with unshed tears. "And I'm so verra thankful for you putting that disagreeable nurse in her place!"

Embarrassment warmed his cheeks. Here Iris was, keeping a vigil over him, and she's doing the thanking. He patted her back, enjoying the contact. "Hey, that's okay. That broad was way outta line."

Even his hair needed reviving, so he tugged on several tuffs. "Listen, how long have I been asleep?"

"Three days plus some hours, Martin."

"Where's Sam?" He knew the answer was going to be bad. He was as certain of that as he was that he still had ten toes wiggling in his socks.

Unfortunately, he was right. Iris' huge blue eyes clouded and she laid her hand on his arm. "I must tell you, Martin, there's been a volcano eruption. Yer sister, well, there's no wrapping it up in clean linen, one of the Uortzks placed her outside the complex's walls before Dry Gulch blew. JorVaal's been gone three days looking fer her, but we dinna know if..." Iris hung her head.

No! Sam was all right. She'd just spoken to him, hadn't she? He'd deal with the Uortzk creature later, but the important thing was that Sam was okay. He'd bet his chickens on it. And if anyone could find her, it was JorVaal Lanquist. But maybe the two of them needed Mart's help now. He threaded his arm through Iris' slender one.

"C'mon, Iris. We've got to get outta here before these docs find out I've joined the land of the livin'."

Sneaking down the corridor, he stopped to push open a maintenance bulkhead. He helped her inside the narrow tubing, then slid inside himself. Just in time. The clattering of boots belonging to Bureau personnel vibrated through the metallic floors and walls surrounding them.

"That Amazon nurse has spread the alarm. They're all out in force lookin' for us. But they'll never think to search the maintenance ducts of the complex," he whispered.

"What'll we do now?" She huddled in the elbow of one of the passage tubes, looking young and vulnerable.

He grinned. "Well, in my spare time, I studied the layout of this ol' structure. A hobby of mine -- you never know when you're gonna need an escape route. Anyway, I can get us to your dad's quarters. We'll wait there for him and then he'll help me get the stuff I need to rescue Sam."

Iris covered her mouth with her small fist. "Oh, but you canna go outside! 'Tis too dangerous. The heat and the lava will burn you alive." She wiped away a tear. "Besides, you're not well."

"I've never felt better, babe." Choosing a vertical tube on his left, he entered first, then gestured for her to follow. What he'd said surprised him. But it was true. For the first time in his life he felt great. Completely connected with himself.

Then he surprised her and himself by giving her a kiss. Her soft sigh of contentment energized every part of his body. Cosmic!

Slightly flustered, he eased down the passageway, not bothering to moderate his voice. "Don't worry, Iris. I'll be fine. I didn't travel 30,000 light years from home just to get toasted by some mountain with a bad attitude!"

Climbing up a smoldering, ash-ridden mountain in the dead of night was tough, to say the least, but Mart was in good physical shape. He didn't mind the exercise, or the challenge. He was protected against the harsh elements by a bulky outer garment that enlarged his frame to look like a fat sausage, but he still didn't mind. Actually, all he could think about was keeping up with Fredd's grueling pace as he scaled the mountain.

Mart stopped for a second to catch his breath, but then had to scramble to follow the older man. It was as dark as India ink outside and he strained to see. From what Fredd had told him, Core stars always filled the evening sky and created a heavenly glow, but tonight the volcano's wrath had blanketed everything with heavy, dreary soot.

Thank the comets that Fredd had insisted on accompanying him. Realistically, Mart didn't stand a chance in this alien, baked Alaska environment. Fredd also had a two-fold advantage: his huge eyes helped him navigate in the darkness while his oversized lungs allowed him to climb the heights without exertion.

Mart, however, puffed. "Hey, wait up! Give the young kid a break here."

Fredd paused in his tracks and pressed the protective suit's intercommunication button. "I'm sorra, lad. I keep forgetting yer not one of us. So like a son to me you are."

What a massive compliment! Mart felt his skin flush. "Why, er, thanks." He caught up with Fredd then slapped him on the back. "Hey, you never know, one of these days, if I ever get well, I might actually become your son."

Mart had said that in jest, but once the words were out, he liked the sound of them and the idea behind it.

"Ach, so that's the way the wind blows, eh? My Iris is a fine lass, to be sure. But I need to tell you, Humans here on Xaspaar dinna treat us Alvitans very kindly. If you are serious in your intentions, Martin, you must expect many barriers to be placed in your way."

Mart's blood boiled at the thought of these narrow-minded Humans passing judgment on Iris and Fredd. With all the diversity and beauty in the universe, why couldn't they celebrate everyone's differences?

Fredd stepped up on a ledge and reached down to help him. "Now, now, I wouldn't pucker up so. I have a feeling deep in this drum of a chest that you and my Iris are meant to be together."

A large boulder conveniently provided a place for them to rest. "But those Ancients Liisan keeps talking about," Fredd continued. "They are a puzzle, to be sure. Do you know they mean for yer sister to be the savior of the galaxy?"

"Sam? Savior of the galaxy?" Mart wished he could scratch his head through the helmet. "Who are these Ancients?"

"Ach, 'tis of no import." Fredd left the rock and pointed at something in the darkness. "Come, this is where JorVaal's locator signal ended. I have hopes he and Sam are in that cave three meters ahead of us."

Three meters was about ten feet. Mart couldn't see past six inches in front of his nose, nevertheless excitement propelled his movements. "Do you think so? Do you think Sam is here?"

He followed Fredd like a shadow, hoping against hope to see Sam's elfin face. Mart shelved thoughts of "Sam as the savior of the galaxy" until later, filed alongside the Uortzk treachery. The first and foremost thing he had to do was to find her and get her safely back to Xaspaar City.

The inside of the cave was a benign black hole. "Sam?" he whispered, even though he knew none of his sound waves penetrated the thick air in the cave. "Sam, are you -- "

"By all the stars, it took you long enough!"

It was JorVaal, standing legs astride and hands on hips, looking none too welcoming. But if he was here, then maybe Sam was also.

Suddenly, shafts of light brightened the area and she came into view. Her clothes tattered, her hair streaming down her shoulders, her smile as radiant as the sun, Mart had never seen her look lovelier.

He let out a whoop of relief. She didn't hear it, but Fredd winced.

"Joe, what bad manners. Please," she said to Fredd and Mart, "you must excuse him. He gets grouchy when he's hungry!"

Sam didn't recognize them, but then how could she? They were both dressed like robots. Mart fumbled to remove his helmet. "It's me, Sam!"

"Oh, dear heavens, Mart!" She ran to him, threw her arms around the clumsy suit and kissed him soundly.

He was embarrassed, of course, but pretty damn happy as well. "Sam, you ol' gal, I knew no volcano could do you in."

He stepped back from the embrace. Stupid tears had decided to pop up in his eyes. He blinked them away. His sister was one helluva female.

JorVaal walked over and shook Mart's hand. "So, Martin. I am most pleased to meet you. Concern for you was the only drawback to this idyllic interlude. That and lack of food."

Fredd removed his helmet, grinning like a monkey. "Idyllic interlude? Well, of course it is!"

His wink at JorVaal could only mean one thing. Mart eyed his sister speculatively. Was there a bloom of love now flourishing on her pinkened cheeks?

Sam and Joe? Mart shrugged. Sure, why not?

Sam hugged him again. "Oh, Mart, I was so worried. I prayed and prayed --"

"Hey, now." He had to cut her short. Here she was, kidnapped and left defenseless in the middle of an erupting volcano and she was worried about him? "I'm fine now. Don't waste any electrons on it, okay?"

She slipped her hand into his gloved one and took him to, of all things, a pool of water with a fountain. In a cave?

"Sam, how did this get here?"

"I'll tell you later. First, tell me what happened. How did you wake up and why are you here? Is it safe for you?"

"Listen, it's no big deal. And really, I feel fine." Getting down on one knee, then the other, he managed to sit by the pool.

Sam followed suit, then tilted her head to consider him. "You do look fine. Better than I've ever seen you." Her brown eyes grew wider. "Do you think you're cured?"

That thought certainly was appealing. Cured. He spread out his hands. "Maybe. Who knows? But what about you -- are you in love?"

"Mart!" She glanced over at JorVaal and Fredd, but they were busy with their own conversation.

"Well? Did you and 'Joe' do the dirty deed?" Teasing her was such fun. Thank the Lord that Mart was allowed this opportunity to rib her. Surely her survival was a heavenly miracle.

"Mart!" she scolded.

"That's my name."

She wrinkled her nose. "Whatever happened between Joe and me is private. I...well, I'm not sure exactly, but I think I love him."

"You think?" That didn't sound like Sam at all. Uncertainty wasn't part of her nature. Whatever she did, she did one hundred percent. So why was she afraid to commit?

She jiggled the shredded bits of lace around her neck, looking for a button to unbutton.

"Well, it's like this, Joe and I come from totally different backgrounds. I mean, we were born on worlds zillions of miles apart! And after all, we just met a week ago. What we have..." Her voice cracked. "What we have might be temporary. You know, today's undying love could be tomorrow's 'biological urge.' I just don't know what the future holds for us."

"No one does, Sam. Sometimes you have to fight for what you want."

A haunted expression covered her slender face. "I can't compete with these women here, Mart. They have more in common with Joe than I'll ever have." She glanced away. "Besides, I want to go home."

"You do?" The thought of returning home held no allure for Mart. The action was happening here. What with black holes evaporating, stars going supernovae and all the knowledge of the galaxy centered here, who wanted to go back to boring ol' Earth? Breaking the tidings would be difficult, but maybe now was as good a time as any.

"Sam, I hate to tell you this, but I'm stayin' on Xaspaar."

She slid her feet into the pool water and splashed a savage beat.

"Sam?"

"I heard you. I'm just digesting what you said." She avoided looking at him, concentrating on her toes as they surfaced, then ducked under the water.

Damn, he felt like a heel. "It's just that I fit in better here. Somethin' I can't explain." He cleared his throat. "And then there's also Iris."

That news perked up Sam's ears. All females loved romance stuff. "Really? You think that maybe you two will get married?"

Iris. He couldn't wait to see her again. Maybe once he did get completely well, she'd consider hitching herself to an Earther.

Mart awkwardly got to his feet. "Hey, who knows if she'll have me? But I'm gonna take my own advice. When I get whole, I'm gonna convince her I'm the man for her -- come in fightin' and not take no for an answer."

He helped his sister up. "But first we have to get you back to the complex."

Fredd must've overheard those words. He reached into the supply bags and pulled out two heat protective suits. "Aye, and I'd recommend we start right away. The GCC has a bit of a situation on its hands and JorVaal is desperately needed back at Control Center."

Without comment, JorVaal efficiently slipped into the cumbersome suit in record time. His lips slashed in a grim line, he was obviously preparing himself for the upcoming ordeal.

Sam watched in silence, worrying her lower lip.

A pang of sympathy tugged on Mart's heartstrings. Duty calls and Sam feels she's lost JorVaal already.

Of course that wasn't necessarily so, but the uncertainty in her eyes was painful to see.

Getting into her suit took Sam longer. "What's happened?"

JorVaal took a last long look around the cave, then rested his gaze on her. "It's Pent'. He and his contingent are protesting Hanik's arrest. Indeed, the Uortzks are threatening to leave Xaspaar -- in force, two point three hours from now."

Mart felt the blood drain from his face. Fredd hadn't told him that. Pent' and his gang pulling out signaled a serious breach in interplanetary relations. And not only that. With them gone, how would the Council be able to handle the crisis with the Uortzk binary sun, Rama?

Everyone else must have been pondering the same thing as they attached their helmets.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

After stepping out of the purification booth and the bulky protection suit, Sam intended to go straight to her quarters. Not only did she need time to be alone, but to reflect on the new circumstances in her life. That Mart had decided to remain on Xaspaar was disturbing news. Of course, she could understand his point of view. He was better suited to this planet's culture than Earth's. His special gifts could benefit more of Humankind at the Milky Way center than at the isolated boonies of the galaxy. And he was entitled to happiness wherever he found it.

But what about her? What about her and Joe?

Sam glanced at his tall, imposing form as he held an impromptu conference with Fredd, Mart, and a female aide who would set any red-blooded male's heart aflutter.

When Joe smiled at the tall, Valkyrie woman, Sam stamped her foot. Why in blue blazes were these females so...so darn attractive?

She couldn't help feeling jealous. The time spent with Joe had been like a perfect dream. He was so charming, considerate, and downright seductive. To her discredit, for a tiny moment back at the cave, she'd been sorry to see the rescuers invading their special, private honeymoon. Of course, seeing Mart was a miracle in itself. But still, outside these walls, she had Joe to herself. Inside, she was just another woman who lusted after him.

Sliding one last gaze over his broad shoulders, muscular back, and appealingly hard butt, Sam turned away. She lusted after him, all right, but she loved him as well. Loved him so much that it hurt.

Even if she wanted to stay on Xaspaar, how could she? How could she bear to watch his cool blue eyes darken with desire when he looked at another woman? Monogamy was unknown here at the Core. The definition of love probably mentioned "biological appetite," nothing more. Sooner or later Joe would grow tired and dismiss her, as he did Mirabelle.

Sam dug her fingernails under the tattered sleeve of her blouse and into her soft skin. Well, I'll be snowed if I let him see how I really feel. After all, what does it matter, anyway? Pretty soon I'll be heading for home, leaving both Joe and Mart behind.

Tears sprang to her eyes, but she quickly blinked them down. Maybe she should slip away now.

"Sophia, wait." Joe walked to her and rested his large hand on her shoulder. Even the heat from his touch stirred her blood. "Dear one, do you feel well?"

"I'm fine." She avoided his gaze. How could she convince him that their little "fling" meant nothing to her if she broke down right there and turned into a watering pot?

His eyes unreadable, he twirled a long strand of her hair around his finger. "Sophia, I regret I must go immediately to the mediation chamber and talk with Pent'. As you have most likely surmised, the task is not an easy one. However, if that situation can be resolved, then Central Control claims my attention." He sighed. "I do not know when we can be together again, although I admit to counting the minutes."

Goodness, but he was wonderful. His words could transport her to heaven and back. But words were just that -- words.

Biting her lip and fisting her hands at the same time, she fought to keep her voice from cracking. "There's no hurry, Joe. I'll see you when you have the time."

"No hurry, dearest one? That does not sound like you. Don't you remember how you pleaded with me to hurry when we first made love?"

"Joe!" Embarrassment scorched her eyebrows. A large man usually had a large voice. Joe was no exception. She placed her fingers on his lips. "Okay, I'll cry uncle. I can't wait to see you again."

He nibbled on her fingertip, which pulsed waves of longing through her loins.

The woman warrior's harsh voice interrupted this pleasurable sensation. "Mighty JorVaal, the most exalted Pent' awaits you."

Sam sent daggers of disdain the woman's way.

Joe kissed Sam's hand, then released it. "I must go, but I do have a favor to ask of you."

She lifted her brow. "Which is?"

"Nothing taxing, my dear one. It seems Nona has been creating a fuss at the Bureau. She is insistent on seeing me. After you freshen up, would you mind explaining to her that I shall visit as soon as I am able? She approves of you and will trust your word."

So thoughtful of his great, great grandmother. How could Sam have believed him to be arrogant and conceited only such a short while ago?

"I like her, too," she confessed. Her heart skipped a precious beat. "Her great, great grandson's not half-bad, either!"

"Mighty JorVaal! Pent' demands your presence now!"

That harpy was persistent, wasn't she?

Joe's eyes expressed regret, then he bowed. "Martin will be accompanying Fredd to Central Control. Evidently, your brother has ideas on how to solve our black hole dilemma -- for the entire galaxy's good. Can you find your way back to your quarters?"

She nodded. Suddenly she felt alone.

"Good. Until later, Sophia."

Joe rejoined Mart and Fredd and that annoying woman, and they all disappeared down the corridor. Now Sam really was alone. Bracing her shoulders, she headed in the opposite direction. Her loud yawn disturbed the quiet. After she had looked in on Nona, Sam couldn't wait to hit the bed and sleep for one whole week.

Slipping in a pin that escaped from her hair bun, Sam entered the Health Bureau and breezed by the reception area. But not fast enough. "Sophia McLaren," called one of the attendants. "I must procure a few drops of your blood for testing purposes."

Sam narrowed her eyes. "Why? And testing for what?"

The woman had a winning smile and her almond eyes twinkled with friendliness. "It's just routine. Mighty JorVaal wishes for you to comply. Your hand, please."

Reservations aside, Sam extended her hand. Why hadn't Joe mentioned this to her?

A quick swab, an even quicker stab, and vivid blood appeared from her thumb. The next second, it was gone.

"Our thanks, citizen. You will hear the results shortly." The attendant placed an invisible bandage on the wound, then bustled back to wherever she came from.

Strange. Sam unbuttoned the top button on her blouse. Just another question to ask Joe when she saw him. After using the conveyor, she rushed over to Nona's door and then waited. She felt refreshed from her shower -- physically and mentally clean. More than ready to "tackle" the task Joe'd asked of her. This time though, no words greeted her through the speaker outlet. The door slid open.

Sam slowly walked inside, ignoring the cozy atmosphere of Nona's quarters. Everything seemed the same, and yet there was a difference. Immediately, Sam spotted it. The virtual reality window depicted a winter's scene from planet Earth. A forest of evergreens drooped their branches, now heavy with pristine snow. The snow covered everything, from the ground below to the puzzle maze of trees, even the sky was stormy gray in color. It was a picture of frozen death, waiting for the buds of spring to arrive.

Sam understood. Finally, Nona Lanquist was dying.

At the base of the window, Nona lay huddled in her bed, small and shrunken against the vast white sheets of her impersonal mattress. Two attendants hovered by her side, efficient, but ill-at-ease. After all, how do you placate a feisty woman who's lived to be one hundred eighty seven?

Although Sam didn't make a sound, Nona opened her withered eyes. Her smile was feeble, but it was a smile all the same. "Girl! You're back."

She coughed, causing her bone-grey face to pale further. "Tell these robots to leave you and me and Liisan alone. I want to speak without extra ears around."

Sam hadn't noticed the Yeamonl, but there she stood behind the two Bureau employees. The male and female Humans protested that they couldn't leave Nona by herself. "Mighty JorVaal would be most displeased," they both chimed.

"Pish-tosh!" Nona's animation cost her dearly. Another hacking cough racked her meager body. "Go, I order you."

Being related to JorVaal gave Nona powers that ordinary Humans lacked. The two attendants shrugged their shoulders and obeyed.

Liisan stepped forward and waved one of her upper limbs. "Clearer is the air now, without those Humans' morose thoughts. Sophia, welcome you back, I do. Truly, blessed you have been by finding and staying in the sanctuary."

Nona tried to sit up but failed. "Sanctuary? My own husband's haven against these stone-headed people? Is it true you stayed there, child?"

Sam sat down on the bed and lifted one of Nona's near-weightless hands. "Yes, your lovely pool and fountain saved my life." She looked at the Yeamonl. "But how did you know?"

Liisan wheezed, "Gifts I have, in certain areas."

Nona was more blunt. "She's telepathic. Better watch your thoughts!" Again, she coughed so hard that she curled into a small ball, all brittle bones and sunken skin.

Any embarrassment Sam might have felt concerning her immodest feelings about Joe vanished. Nona was slowly dying before her eyes. Sam placed her hand on the wrinkled brow to soothe her. After a moment, the woman straightened on the bed, but remained with her eyes closed.

"Can anything be done to help her?" Sam looked at Liisan.

"No, how it must be, it is. Right is the time. The Ancients know this."

Well, that was an enigmatic answer. The Ancients. Nona had referred to them once before as well.

Her soft breath only slightly disturbed the lace decorating her nightshirt. She must have fallen into a gentle slumber. Which was good. Sleep was an excellent way to forget about discomfort.

Sam murmured, "Joe must be told about the seriousness of Nona's condition. He's so busy, but he'd want to know."

Liisan stretched out wider, looking even more like an accordion. "Contacted him, I have done. He will be here."

People always used hushed tones in the presence of death. That was universal since the beginning of time and would never change until time itself ended.

But Nona took exception to it. She sprang up like a revitalized rubber band. "Whispering! Bah, humbug, I'm not dead yet!"

She pointed a bony finger at Sam. "So you and my Joe have been cavorting around in your birthday suits?"

Sam flushed. It seemed like everyone here knew about her and Joe's intimate secrets.

"Blushing like a bride, eh, Liisan? Just as the Ancients said."

"Who are --?"

"Don't deny it, girl. What do you think my husband and I did when we pussyfooted out to the cave to enjoy a little connubial bliss? Play tiddlywinks? Ha!" Nona's voice weakened. "Now that I know Janus has allowed the twins to enter Xaspaar's gates, I can go in peace."

She did look peaceful and serene. And with eyes closed again, Sam didn't want to disturb her.

"Who are the Ancients?" she asked Liisan, reverting once more to whispers.

Liisan shuffled away from the bed, indicating for Sam to follow. "A race older than time. Beings whose existence is the essence of myths and legends. Foretold your coming here to Xaspaar, they did. Spoke to me, and now to Nona."

The Yeamonl seemed tired. As was Sam -- bone-tired. None of this really made any sense. Magical, mystical balderdash. "But what did Nona mean about the twins? Is she talking about the Roman twins Castor and Pollux?"

Nona coughed. This time though, the sound echoed ominously. A death rattle. Just as Sam and Liisan hurried to the bed, Joe entered through the door with a swish of air.

"Sophia." His gaze lingered on her, then he transferred his attention. "How is Nona?"

"Is that my Joe?" Nona asked querulously. Her bloodless lips smiled ever so slightly. "I can't see. Bend, you and Sam, bend down so I can see.

Together Sam and Joe leaned over the bed. Inhaling his masculine scent, she entwined her hand in his. She had never felt God's presence so strongly as she did right now.

"Good. You two are blessed. The line is assured. I can go now." A little sigh, a ragged breath, and Nona was gone. Even the lace on her sunken chest stilled. She'd slipped into the comfort of God.

Sam's lip quivered and her eyes stung. She was fortunate to know such a fine lady even though their acquaintance had been so short.

Joe gently passed his hand over Nona's face to close her eyes. "Good-bye, Nona. You fought a good fight." Kissing her forehead, he then squeezed Sam's hand and led her away from the window.

"Liisan, would you make arrangements with the attendants? I shall return as soon as I escort Sophia to the mediation chamber."

After Liisan nodded agreement, Joe led Sam out of the room. Of course she had a zillion questions to ask, but somehow none passed the lump of emotion in her throat. It was only in the conveyor that she regained her voice. "I will never forget her."

"Neither will I. She was a remarkable woman. A part of Xaspaar's history." Joe smiled. "There, I am learning history is not a word to be despised."

Sam took solace in the warmth of his hand. "I'm learning things, too. But tell me, why are you taking me to the mediation chamber?"

His expression darkened. The line of his jaw jutted forward with grim determination. "Talks with Pent' have reached a stalemate. My most worthy adversary insists on withdrawing the Uortzk race from the Galactic Core Coalition."

He tightened his grip on her hand. "You are not aware that it is the Uortzks who are responsible for tampering with their own binary star, Rama."

Sam gasped. "But why?"

"Why, indeed? Uortzk psychology escapes all of us here at the Core. If we cannot prevent Pent' from reconsidering his decision, then we are consigning the theta quadrant, Cygnus sector to certain doom. And with the uncertainty of the black hole evaporation, possibly the entire galaxy."

The entire galaxy. Suddenly every personal concern, every individual worry seemed so minute.

Joe hadn't really answered her question. Feeling her stomach sink, she knew she had to ask it again anyway. "But, Joe, why do you want me to go to the meditation chamber?"

He took both her hands and rubbed his thumbs gently over her knuckles. Gazing down into her eyes, he said, "Because, my dearest one, there are no other options. Pent' has refused all arbitration attempts. Departure of the Uortzk faction is set to commence in one point three hours. As it stands now, we have only one hope."

Sam's tummy plummeted further. "Which is?"

The conveyor door slid open. Joe waited until after they both exited before continuing. "Pent' has agreed to speak with you. He respects you -- perhaps he will listen your words."

Joe tightened his grip on her once again. "The fate of the galaxy lies in these tiny hands."

Sam stared down at those very same hands. Her hands. Dear God in heaven. What could she possibly say to change Pent's mind?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The mediation room had as much personality as the rest of Xaspaar City's complex -- virtually none. Cold steel walls gleamed polished and antiseptic. No pictures and, of course, no windows interrupted the smooth sterile design. The furniture consisted only of one large round table surrounded by chairs. Any sounds were bound to vibrate off the shiny metallic walls. Acoustically and aesthetically, the room did not inspire confidence or warm feelings of camaraderie. Without meaning to, Sam shuddered.

Pent' sat by himself, rigid. The silver medallions on his massive chest seemed to emphasize strength, valor, and determination. His was a presence that caused knees to quake and lips to quiver. Even now his unblinking amber gaze took in her full measure.

She straightened her shoulders. He mustn't see fear. She wouldn't be afraid.

Joe accompanied her to a chair directly opposite Pent'. After helping her sit, Joe faced his adversary with hands on hips. "Sophia McLaren has kindly agreed to your terms to speak with you in private. We have done all you have asked, Pent'. It is in all our best interests to heal the breach that divides us."

Joe placed his hand on the nape of her neck to massage away some of her tension. His thick fingers got caught in her heavy bun and he apologized with his eyes for his clumsiness.

Pent's voice boomed in the hollow room. "In private denotes not activating mechanical devices."

Joe extracted his fingers from her hair, then stiffened his hands into fists. "The chamber administration unit does not interfere with your solitude here, Pent'. The unit records the conversation and provides service should you require it, but it does not intrude."

The Uortzk shook his enormous head. The movement however, didn't displace any of his golden orange facial fur. "We demand total seclusion, mighty JorVaal."

Sam rebuttoned her button. Joe didn't want to leave her completely alone with Pent'. The chamber administration unit spying on them was like a third party insuring no foul play. She looked up at Joe to reassure him. "It's okay, Joe. I'll be fine."

Pent' narrowed his gaze. "We will not harm the lady."

She sucked in her cheeks to quiet her amusing thought. Of course he wouldn't harm her. After all, what could he do, abduct her and leave her in the middle of an erupting volcano?

Joe nodded, but pointed a stern finger at Pent'. "Fifteen minutes, then. I will return after that time." Lowering his voice, Joe then caressed her with his gaze. "Sophia, thank you for your help."

After he left, she gulped down her unease. Now she was alone with Pent'. His golden eyes never wavered as he continued to stare at her.

Well, if she wanted to get the ball rolling, she'd better get started.

"Pent', first let me say that I'm honored that you wish to talk with me, but since I've never participated as a mediator before --"

"Is it true?" he barked at her.

Sitting back in her chair, she had to think on this a minute. Obviously, his question didn't pertain to what she'd just said. Then what? She'd take the easy way out and just ask.

"Is what true?"

He hammered his paw on the table, jarring its sturdy frame. "You are but a slight female, Lady. We do not believe it is possible for the Humans' story to be true. They say Hanik disgraced himself by harming you, leaving you to die by the righteous wrath of nature." Pent' shook his head, only this time, long, woolly strands of fur danced with reflected emotion. "We were shown recorded pictures of Hanik and you, but those devices were created by Humans." He folded his arms across his chest. "We do not trust soulless, devious machines."

His attitude toward technology mirrored hers. But now she'd changed. Scientific progress sometimes was for the better. However, empathy for him simmered in her heart. Pent' didn't want to think the worst of his associate. That was normal. She could understand his feelings. Even though sitting closer would mean she'd be more vulnerable, she moved to the chair next to his.

"Pent', I'm sorry I have to tell you this, but it is true. After Hanik knocked me out, I had to run to find shelter from the eruption."

She laid her hand on his arm, as a gesture of sincerity. "Please, don't allow this incident to ruin the Uortzks' relationship with the GCC. Hanik's act has nothing to do with you and the Council."

Pent' turned away from her. "You are wrong. Your words confirm we have no choice -- we are degraded by Hanik's association with us. When JorVaal returns, we shall demand that Hanik is released to us for proper punishment."

With murder venting from Pent's eyes, Sam worried over his deputy's fate. An angry Uortzk was not a pretty sight.

"Why would Hanik disgrace us so?"

She had to give Pent' his due by trying to understand Hanik's motivation. But she didn't want to get anyone else in trouble, so how could she mention Mirabelle's involvement in what had happened? Even Sam didn't know all the parts of the story.

Pent' focused his compelling gaze on her face. "You are tenderhearted, Lady. For a female that battles the forces of nature, you should be as hard as stone -- rigid and unyielding. You are unlike any Human we have come across, here or anyplace else in the galaxy."

Sam looked down in her lap. She'd accept that as a compliment. And besides, he'd gotten sidetracked from his question.

He pounded on his chest, sending his silver metals jangling. "The betrayal involved the Human Mirabelle Kingsley, is that not so? For she also is detained in the Human detention area."

So he knew. Sam relaxed, glad that she didn't have to "finger" the woman.

"Yes, of late, Mirabelle has been most insistent to have you disappear," he said. "Our mistake was to ignore her deranged demands." Pent' stroked his furry chin. "Hanik has lusted after her favors for many a day. She must have agreed to one coupling for the price of his help."

Oh dear heavens! Try as she might, Sam couldn't stop the heat of embarrassment from spreading all over her body. A Uortzk as a sexual partner? Goodness!

Pent' was like a grand inquisitor. He didn't let the matter drop. "Why would Mirabelle wish disaster for you? This she would not reveal to us."

Sam sighed. They were supposed to be discussing Pent' leaving Xaspaar, or even Rama's supernova status, so what were they doing talking about personal stuff like this?

She held out her hands. "Well, I can't be sure, really."

"Your thoughts, then."

"My thoughts. Okay, I think Mirabelle was jealous of me. Maybe she thought Joe liked me better than her." Yikes, that sounded like a childish complaint.

Pent' leaned closer to her. "Joe is short for JorVaal. It is true then, JorVaal has chosen you for his mate."

If she was going to spend any time here, she'd better get used to everyone's plain speaking -- and fast. But, where did that idea come from? She wasn't going to stay any longer than necessary on Xaspaar. Biting her bottom lip, she folded her arms across her chest. With Pent', she had to be firm.

"I'm not here to discuss my personal business. Now that you know the facts, won't you reconsider your decision to leave? A triumvirate form of government can't exist with only two leaders, for somehow, 'two' manages to whittle its way down to 'one' -- a dictatorship."

He remained mute.

"You know us Humans, Pent'. Give us an inch and we'll take a mile. With the Uortzks gone, who will keep us in line?"

Silently working his huge massive jaw, he inspired a thrill of fear zipping through her. Those teeth could pulverize a meteorite.

"You indulge our sense of humor, Lady. You are a most worthy opponent."

She dimpled a smile. "Can't we be friends instead?"

Pent' reared his head back and let loose with a ferocious roar.

Goodness, what did she say now?

He jumped to his feet and paced behind her like a caged tiger. "We cannot understand your ways, Lady. You are unlike others of your kind. This perplexes us."

Then came a complete non sequitur. "Release your hair so that we may look upon it."

Questions hovered on her lips, but she ignored them. Instead, she pulled out the pins holding up her hair. Who could refuse a request from someone who could literally destroy billions of lives?

With his claws, he gently combed through her hair. "A glorious mane. We suspected as much."

The mediation room's door hissed open to admit JorVaal and three of his assistants. His face taut, he quickly scanned the room. "Sophia, are you all right?"

He was worried about her! With all he had on his mind, he worried about her.

"I'm fine, Joe, thank you." The sight of his lean, strong form filled her with an indescribable emotion -- one of longing, love, and desire. Sighing deeply, she smiled at him, but then felt guilty. She hadn't accomplished much with Pent', had she?

Joe dismissed the others, then strode to the table, leveling his finger at Pent'. "Central Control reported a loud noise emanating from this room."

"It is unnatural to be caged within these walls for any length of time. The need to bellow grew within us, so we indulged ourselves." Pent' extended his paw for a handshake. "You have chosen your mate well, mighty JorVaal. Our congratulations to you."

The handshake between the two men was like a death grip. Glaring at each other, they looked anything but friendly.

Sam stood. Gazing at the twin mountains was giving her a crick in her neck. And she had to clear the air. She didn't want Joe to get the wrong impression. She certainly hadn't said anything about being his mate.

"Um, Pent's jumping to conclusions, Joe. But back to business, I think we've settled the Hanik issue, haven't we?"

Pent' nodded grimly. "That is so. Formally, we make our apologies to the lady for what she has suffered. JorVaal, we have decided to remain with the GCC. However, Hanik's treachery must be handled according to Uortzk custom."

She interrupted. "You won't hurt him?" She had a sneaking suspicion that "Brutality" was Pent's middle name. Or maybe his last name. She couldn't allow anything really bad to happen to Hanik.

"Tenderhearted lady." Pent's grimace could almost be mistaken for a smile. Maybe it was. "No, Hanik will be purged, not hurt. To regain his warrior status, he must prove himself again."

Walking to a box set inside the wall, Joe pressed some buttons and spoke quietly. After he finished, he turned to the Uortzk. "I spoke with Eglan from Wn-Gan. He also agrees to your terms. Hanik shall be released to your custody."

"And the female, Mirabelle Kingsley, what will be her punishment? If you like, we can provide a suitable penalty." Pent's eyes took on an unholy glow. His fierce expression mirrored the time he salivated at the chickens.

Now Sam feared for Mirabelle's safety. Joe put his arm through Sam's. The contact gave her comfort.

"That will not be necessary. The Human Council will handle retribution." He smiled at her. "The GCC is indebted to you for your intervention in this matter -- as am I."

Why did his approval make her knees shake and her head spin? She felt herself flush; she couldn't help it.

Pent' growled. "We concede that you have won in this matter, JorVaal. Do not make the mistake of assuming you can succeed in all areas." Bowing curtly, the Uortzk snapped, "Lady."

He then left the mediation room.

Sam's shoulders sank. "Goodness, he keeps a person on edge, doesn't he? I'm afraid we didn't have a chance to talk about Rama."

"Dear one." At first his kiss was gentle, then he tightened his hold on her while his tongue explored her mouth. A little moan of passion escaped her lips, driving out all other thoughts. Joe's warm breath tickled the shell of her ear.

"I agree that the binary star's status is critical, however my emotions are just as explosive!"

"I'll say!" she countered. Lost to their surroundings, she sighed contentedly as shivers of pleasure pulsed through her core.

A signal tone from the wall box disturbed their lovemaking. "Mighty JorVaal," it squawked. "Test results are in."

He ran his fingers through her hair, slowly and sensuously. "I must admit I do approve of the Terran propensity for long hair."

She responded by kissing him. Joe laughed, then said in a mock serious voice, "This concerns you, Sophia." Placing his finger on her lips to still her question, he stretched his other arm out to the box to flip a switch. "JorVaal here. Results?"

"Positive, mighty JorVaal," the box screeched back. "Beta-HCG hormone is present in the blood sample."

His grin froze at the technician's next words. "However, one complication is noted, sir."

Joe tightened his grip around Sam's waist. "Explain."

The unpleasant voice complied. "HCG levels are higher than normal. This indicates two --"

"Noted." He shut off the box.

Sam's alarm bells were ringing loudly. Joe said that this news concerned her, and anything with the word "Beta" in it rattled her nerves. Understandable, of course, with Mart and Beta-Siwinski. But what was HCG and what did it have to do with her?

Joe pulled her to him and stilled her questions with another soul-searing kiss. "Just as potent as the first one, my dear."

As delicious as the kiss was, she couldn't be put off any longer. "What was that all about, Joe?"

He looked torn; the corner of his mouth lifted as if to smile while his eyes were clear and somber. "Perhaps we should sit down?"

She shook her head. "No, give it to me straight."

Running his hand through his hair, he exhaled slowly. "By all the stars, Sophia, Nona was right. Indeed, only a few days ago, she was knitting something called booties."

The memory hit Sam in the midsection. She recalled Nona knitted, all right. And also saying that Sam would be giving Nona great, great, great grandchildren.

Pregnant? Wide-eyed, she looked at Joe. "But...but that can't be!"

He led her to a chair and helped her sit. Good thing, too. The walls seemed to whirl around her head.

"I am afraid this is my error. Not that I am displeased." He massaged both her hands, then kissed each fingertip. "No, not at all, dearest one. Nona often nagged me that it was time for an heir. While I agreed in theory, I always kept delaying the event." He reddened. "You see, with you, I...lost control -- a number of times. That has never happened to me before, but I admit that your most glorious self has that effect on me. That was selfish of me -- I had no right to impregnate you without your knowledge." He lifted her chin to gaze into her eyes. "Tell me what you are thinking, Sophia."

Pregnant. A baby. How could she comprehend everything that went along with motherhood?

"Well, I'll be snowed!"

That explained why Joe had wanted the blood test. But tests could be wrong. "Are the doctors absolutely sure?"

He now paternally patted her hand. "The Human hormone chorionic gonadotropin is in your blood -- a certain sign of pregnancy." With his fist, he thudded once on his chest. "My son will formally make his appearance in the world in nine months time."

Oh goodness! How like a man he sounded. Already Joe was positive the baby was a boy! She folded her hands across the flat area of her tummy. In the coming months, she'd feel the baby's presence and watch her stomach grow. A smile of contentment widened on her face. Her and Joe's baby. A miracle child. How wonderful...and unexpected. But there was something else. The complication.

"What does a higher HCG level mean?"

He shifted his gaze to the door. "Nothing important, dearest one. The Health Bureau will take care of any irregularities."

Nothing important -- she didn't buy that. But...but...She rose to her feet in a fluid movement. Suddenly, all the pieces of the puzzle fit.

"Nona told me I'd be giving her grandchildren. Plural. And she was knitting two pairs of booties -- pink and blue. Twins!"

All at once, Sam's tummy didn't seem as flat as before. "Twins! We're going to have twins! That's what Nona meant about Janus allowing the twins inside Xaspaar's gates. She was talking about me -- us!"

Joe sat her back down again. "Let's not be fanciful, Sophia. Nona could not have known about your condition. It was just wishful thinking on her part. And as for twins, that is clearly impossible. The Breeding Concave allows only one embryo to grow until term. It will be our son, JorVaal 6."

Sam looked at him as if he'd just sprouted two heads. No. She couldn't have heard right. What was he talking about: a breeding concave? Only one embryo allowed to grow? What kind of monstrous culture was this? This time she stood up so quickly that her chair tumbled backwards.

"Sophia, please. I can understand that you are upset. Learning that you are procreating happens but once in your life."

Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head, causing her hair to violently swing from side to side.

"You are wrong. Giving birth can happen any number of times. For my mother, it was twice."

He spread his large hands. "On Terra, conditions are barbaric. You must agree that this is so. Here, all the vagaries and dangers of birthing have been eliminated by removing the fetus to the Breeding Concave. This way, the process is not injurious to the mother or the child."

She could only stare at him, not comprehending his words. "You can't be serious."

"This is for the best, Sophia. And, of course, only one embryo is selected to prosper. In this case, it will be my son."

Remove the fetus? Her blood ran cold. And he called Earth barbaric? Controlling her anger was hard, but she managed to keep her voice steely calm and laser sharp. She blotted out all his appealing features: from his hawk-like nose to the firm line of his jaw. Instead of seeing her exciting lover, her soulmate -- a man, who just moments ago, she would have followed until the end of time, she saw a total stranger -- a villain who would steal her children and condemn one to death.

"No one's going to touch my babies! Do you hear me? No one. How could you believe I'd allow anyone to take my babies? Thank God I'm not one of your robot citizens."

The more she thought about it, the more enraged she became. Just let anyone try to touch her. She'd give them a whack so hard...

"You have no jurisdiction over me, Joe Lanquist. Fredd told me you have to respect my culture's beliefs. Well, I can say right now that on Earth this would be called murder. I'll fight you tooth and nail over this."

She didn't let Joe answer. Why bother? He was as set in his ways as she was. And besides, even as she spoke, she was losing control.

He reached over to touch her, but she pivoted away from him. Marching to the door, she called back over her shoulder, "I never want to see you ever again!"

How could such joyous news so quickly and so devastatingly plunge her into complete despair?

Her vision blurred by tears, she somehow found her way to her quarters.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Somewhere inside JorVaal a part of him died, an important part of him. He wanted to go after her; he needed to catch up with her, but the look of loathing glinting off her unforgiving brown eyes warned him to keep his distance. That look, and of course, her very explicit words: "I never want to see you ever again!" What could be plainer than that? There was no mistaking her meaning.

Sophia. To have finally found love, overcome tremendous odds, and now to have her slip through his fingers.

Resting his elbow on the table, he sank his chin into his hand. The logical part of his mind began to take over. He had to make allowances for her condition. After all, hormones always created havoc in a newly gestating woman. But this was more than just raging hormones. A clash of cultures as vast as the light-years separating their home planets was the root cause of their discord. But interplanetary conflicts poised no problem to him. JorVaal was a trained mediator; he should be able to resolve the differences between them.

He should be able to, but his instincts told him that this task was going to be monumental. So monumental that perhaps convincing the Uortzks to halt their aggression against Rama would be child's play in comparison. He smiled -- a paltry smile. Sophia was an obstinate woman. Persuading her to change her ways would be akin to taming a Brhite! But he would try. His happiness depended upon it. Luckily, he had found out about the pregnancy early. Regulations allowed one month into the first trimester to schedule transferal into the Breeding Concave. He had one month to win her over and arrange for the procedure.

His shoulders slumped. One month. The way she had looked at him, one millennium would not be sufficient. If only Nona were still alive to help him accomplish this near-impossible task.

A signal beeped annoyingly, disturbing his already blackened mood.

"JorVaal?" It was Fredd. "Sorra to intrude, but I think you'll be wanting to hear what Martin has just proposed. Are you sitting down? Listen, yer Sophia's brother has found a way to halt the effects of the Uortzk bombardment against Rama. I dinna know any of the details, but his formulas make sense. I do think it'll work."

JorVaal rubbed the bridge of his nose. He really should get some sleep.

"JorVaal, did you hear me, man? Are you there? Do you come to Control Center?" Fredd's high voice crackled with static over the speakers. Static interference, again.

"Expect me in three point two minutes. JorVaal out," he barked his reply, not caring to hide his misery.

His Sophia. One week ago, he would have sneered at the sentiment. Today, he only wished he still had the right to use the phrase. His Sophia wanted nothing to do with him. He closed his eyes to shut out the wave of despair flooding him. The sensory deprivation didn't help. Overpowering grief seeped in him...through him -- only feeling far more intense.

Blast! Standing, JorVaal pulled down his uniform shirt. What the devil was wrong with him? Fredd's news that Rama's destruction was no longer imminent should be broadcasted like a clarion call echoing throughout the complex. To be sure, JorVaal welcomed the glad tidings, but...but...

Frustrated that he was concentrating on personal needs over professional duty, he stormed out of the mediation room and headed for Control Center.

The hum of activity in the Control Center was easy to ignore, although by the distinct purplish glow around the edges of several Wn-Ganites, JorVaal surmised the mood was a positive one. Pleased, he strode toward Fredd's station. With all that faced the staffers, not the least of which was the overwhelming cleanup of volcanic debris, JorVaal appreciated this optimistic outlook. Too bad he did not feel the same way. He massaged the bridge of his nose. After this report, he would take a break from his duties and get some rest.

Rest. As if he could. How could he sleep when his future held an empty bed?

Fredd waited, as did Martin and Liisan. JorVaal returned their greetings, then sank into a vacant chair.

"So, Martin, you have found a way to postpone Armageddon. Perhaps your GCC title should be 'savior of the galaxy'."

Blotchy redness crept up Martin's neck and cheeks. Oddly enough, he slid a troubled glance at Fredd. "Er, no, sir. I'm only suggesting the solution. My sister's the one who gave me the idea."

"Aye, and what a fine lass she is," Fredd commented.

JorVaal could not dispute that sentiment. "Just so. Now why don't you give me the condensed version?" Without meaning to, he yawned. "Apologies. It has been a rather long day."

As Martin recalled data from the computer console with Fredd's assistance, Liisan lightly laid one of her upper limbs on JorVaal's arm.

"Over-tired, you are, JorVaal. Sleep restores all functions." She released some stored-up air. "Condolences I give on your personal loss. Deeply felt will be Nona's passing."

"My thanks. Services are to be held at sunrise tomorrow." Hard to believe old Nona was gone. She was a game one. More of a mother to him than his own mother or grandmother.

"More troubles you. Concerning Sophia. Offer help, if I may?"

He sat up in his chair. With Liisan's telepathic ability and her innate persuasive gifts, she just might be able to change Sophia's mind. For the first time since she left his side, his heart lightened.

"Yes, please do. Sophia needs a special friend right now." He lowered his voice. This was not the time to inform Martin of his sister's condition. "You see, she is...breeding."

The expression on the Yeamonl's face was one of sheer bliss. Crimson pink dotted her pudgy cheeks and her squat body stretched out twenty centimeters wider than normal.

"However, there is a problem." JorVaal cautioned. "The Breeding Concave is unknown on Sophia's world. Her customs dictate that she actually carries the embryos --"

"No problems! The Ancients foretold no problems. Healthy babies you will have. Not to be concerned." Liisan patted his arm again. The sensation was soothing.

Fredd looked up from the console and cleared his throat, probably indicating that Martin was ready for the presentation. However, Liisan waved two limbs to silence him.

Who the devil were the Ancients? JorVaal narrowed his eyes, regarding her. Nona had mentioned them and Liisan evidently told Nona about them.

Returning to her regular size, Liisan wheezed, "Necessary is making concessions in any relationship. To follow that advice would benefit you, JorVaal. I go now. Soon, Sophia awakens."

So Sophia was sleeping. That was good. As Liisan said, sleep restored all functions. Perhaps Sophia would be more inclined to listen to reason.

"Remember, necessary are compromises." Liisan shuffled back, then moved fluidly toward the Control Center doors.

Fredd puffed out his chest and wagged his eyebrows. "Ach, did that sound interesting! Care to enlighten me?"

"Later." JorVaal swung his chair around to face the console. "What do you have, Martin?"

The boy, or rather, young man, spewed words as an uncorked bottle of champagne. JorVaal paid only half attention. He trusted Martin's analysis. After all, his records at the Health Bureau mentioned abilities of eidetic imagery and also high performance in the areas of quantum physics and astro-engineering. A genius, by most standards. The GCC possessed many capable individuals in those areas, yet Martin also had a knack for problem solving. The entire galaxy would benefit from his expertise.

Instead, JorVaal concentrated on Martin's quirky movements. One minute he would pull on his hair, the next he would flatten it down. A myriad of freckles seemed alive with his enthusiasm. In many respects, he resembled his sister, with her boundless eagerness and energy for life.

JorVaal smiled a little sadly. Perhaps it wasn't so unpleasant to have a sibling.

Martin rapped on the projection screen, inadvertently reclaiming JorVaal's wandering thoughts.

"And so, sir, based on measurements of gamma radiation, my calculations indicate that if we follow my recommendations, Rama's unnatural decay will stop, postponing its demise well into the next millennium times one thousand."

Fredd clapped his hands together. "Brilliant, laddie! Long enough for Denebians to transplant themselves to a safer part of the galaxy."

This time, JorVaal's smile had true feeling in it. "I agree. Well done, Martin. Fredd, have your team verify the equations through the compiler. If everything checks out, we can try a test run before implementing the plan."

"Aye. Martin, would you pass your work on to the center station? I need to talk with JorVaal a moment."

Adrenaline still flowing through his veins as befitting his youth, Martin bobbed his head several times, then dashed to the center station.

JorVaal sighed. He had hoped to slip away before another emergency just happened to arise. No such luck. He activated the silencing field.

"Well?"

His friend cracked his knuckles then sat down in an adjacent chair. "Alvitans have acute hearing, you know. I heard what you said about the lass. You should be sitting there with your chest bellowed out like mine! Tell me, what's eating you up with worra?"

The lass was, of course, Sophia. He might as well tell Fredd everything.

"She is refusing to transfer the embryos to the Concave. Embryos -- as in twins." JorVaal shrugged. "Naturally, only one can be selected for survival."

Fredd snorted. "No wonder she's upset with you, man! Blessed be! Of all the buffleheaded...You told her that? 'Tis not the news to warm the cockles of any mother's heart."

"But how could I not mention it? The Concave and one child is standard practice on Xaspaar."

"But Sophia isn't a citizen here. Why should she agree to practices abhorrent to her?"

JorVaal and Fredd could exchange "buts" until Xaspaar attracted another moon; words were not going to change anything.

"Because, as my consort, she is expected to obey the law."

"Perhaps she dinna wish to be yer consort."

As if stabbed, JorVaal straightened. Something in his midsection tightened and twisted, squeezing the very breath from him. "She is mother to my son. She has no choice."

Fredd gentled his voice. "Do you give any consideration that the law may be wrong?"

"Wrong?" JorVaal blinked. "Wrong? That regulation has been in effect ever since the Great Purge."

Pointing a long finger, Fredd almost crowed. "Exactly! I take issue with that Great Purge. Why is it that we must view our history with disdain? Does it make sense to ignore thousands of years brimmed with lives, loves, and tears? Are we above those that went before us? Ach, man, 'tis akin to going off to war without yer arms and legs."

Fredd Desilva was a passionate little devil. JorVaal spread his hands to explain. "Perhaps Alvitar is different, but here on Xaspaar we concentrate only on the present and the future."

"But do we really? What about the upcoming Olympic Games? Weren't they rooted in the past? What about these names of yore -- Helena mountain range and Dry Gulch volcano?" He paused. "What about Janus?"

Valid points. Standing, JorVaal swept his gaze across the length of Control Center. As vast as the area was, for the first time in his life, he felt confined. A disturbing ache settled within his breast. He longed for more than these four walls -- more than this confining prison.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "You have giving me much to think about, Fredd. Perhaps our immediate ancestors were in error with regards to Earth." Certain aspects of that planet did hold appeal. "I confess I find Sophia's long hair particularly attractive."

"Aye, she's a bonnie lass. A person of great worth."

"True." JorVaal deactivated the field. "I will consider your words and Liisan's advice as well. Concessions and compromises are necessary in any mediation. Or perhaps I should say 'merger.' More than anything, I wish to 'merge' with Sophia McLaren. I owe her a monumental apology."

Fredd's smile broadly stretched across his face. If his eyes had not been hidden by the visor, of a certainty they would be twinkling. "Do you speak of marriage, JorVaal?"

He returned his friend's grin. "If I am to start altering my behavior, why shouldn't I begin with reviving that particular custom?"

"No reason at all, man. No reason at all."

"Agreed. Do you have matters under control with Martin's proposal? Yes? Good, I will take a break now. Expect me back..." JorVaal consulted the battered timepiece still attached to his uniform. For the first time in his life, he could not be precise concerning his schedule. "Expect me back...whenever I arrive."

With a wave, he departed the claustrophobic and oppressive atmosphere of Control Center.

"What was that all about?" Martin strolled back to Fredd's station with a mischievous cast to his bronze complexion.

"Nothing that would interest you, lad." Fredd pressed his lips together. Personal confidences weren't made to be shared.

Martin purposefully folded his arms across his narrow chest and drummed his fingers.

"You're not pullin' my leg, mister. I heard Sam's name come up between Liisan and JorVaal. Don't be tellin' me you two didn't talk about my sister."

Discarding a momentary notion to ask what pulling legs had to do with anything, Fredd sighed. "Yer sister should be the one to give you the news."

A momentary delay, at best. In his own way, Martin was as determined as Sophia. "What news? You'd better tell me, else I'll sic Henrietta and Cluck-Cluck on you!"

Fredd laughed and held up his hands. "A fate worse than death! Well, lad, to be truthful, yer sister's in...well, she's in the family way."

He braced himself for the outcry. But Martin didn't react as expected.

"No kidding." Rubbing his chin, he stared thoughtfully at the tips of his toes. "I'd better go to her."

"Why don't you wait awhile? Liisan's with her now, then JorVaal's next --"

"So I have to get in line, eh?" The boy plopped his lanky frame down in a chair. "JorVaal's the dad."

A statement, not a question. "Aye."

"Is he plannin' on doin' right by my sister?"

An old-fashioned sentiment, and one that spoke well of the lad. Fredd liked these Earthers. He liked them a lot. "If you mean marriage, I do believe JorVaal intends to wed her, if she'll have him."

"Sam deserves the best. I'm gonna make sure ol' Joe knows that."

Ol' Joe? Fredd coughed into his hand to hide his amusement.

"And another thing, Fredd. Seems I've been offered a job here at Central Control. I'll be makin' good money." He pawed at the floor with his foot. "I'm hopin' the docs'll give me a clean bill of health, too. By the comets, I've never felt so good."

"What are you trying to say, lad?"

The boy's face reddened. "Iris agreed to see me after this duty shift. We're goin' to see the docs together. I...well, what I'm sayin' is, I just want to let you know that Iris and I might be tyin' the knot too, with your approval, of course, sir."

Fredd couldn't help his laugh from turning high-pitched and squeaky. "Sir? If that dinna beat the dutch! Yer making me sound old, Martin."

The boy's grin was infectious. "Old enough to be my father-in-law, Fredd."

Taking in gulps of air, Fredd managed to say, "Aye, you have my blessing, all right. But I do wonder whether Liisan's Ancients had a double wedding in mind when they sent me clear across the galaxy!"

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Pacing didn't solve the problem, but it did give Sam something to do besides gnaw on her fingernails. Her small quarters couldn't provide unlimited room within which to walk out her agitation, but it did give her one thing -- safety. Temporary safety from GCC's goon squad assigned to enforce regulations concerning the Breeding Concave. Not that she was sure a goon squad did exist, but still, she had to consider the possibilities.

No way. No way would she submit to the Breeding Concave. How could Joe do this to her? After all they'd been through together. After all they meant to each other. How?

A chime of bells sounded, stopping her pacing. Was it Joe?

She ran to the door, then tightly fisted her hands until the whites of her knuckles showed. Maybe she shouldn't be glad to see him. Maybe he meant to demand that she submit to the law. Maybe he --

"Sophia, only me, it is." Liisan's soft voice somehow filtered through the barrier.

Sam flushed. Liisan was telepathic. But what thoughts, and how deeply, was she able to read them?

"To ease your anguish, I come." Entering the quarters, Liisan then lassoed a flexible tentacle around Sam. "Concerned about you, JorVaal is. Asked me to come."

Liisan's embrace was comforting, if different. Sam smiled briefly, then dropped down in a chair. Her flowing dress billowed out from the sudden motion and she watched the filmy material undulate until it rested on the floor.

"He told you about the babies, then. And how he wants me to...to..." Dear God, the very idea hurt to even speak it.

Liisan fluttered two of her limbs, which seemed to echo the dress's graceful movement. "Duo nurslings are foretold by the Ancients. Just as your arrival here was."

The Ancients, again. Sam had no patience for questionable prophecies. "You see, Liisan, the problem is, I feel trapped. Ordinarily, well...being in the middle of the galaxy isn't exactly normal for me." Homesickness surged through her; homesickness for the safe and familiar. "What I mean to say is that I'm stuck here on Xaspaar. I certainly can't go back to Earth while I'm pregnant -- because of the wormholes." Memories of the gut- wrenching sensations returned. Made her tummy do flip-flops even now. "And after the babies are born, who knows how long it will be before they are able to travel." She placed her hands protectively over her stomach. "But I can't stay here! You see that, don't you? I won't let these people take my babies from me."

Liisan wheezed in a quiet tone. "Right will prevail, Sophia. Loves you, JorVaal does."

Sam picked at a piece of lint disturbing the solid blue of her dress. "Maybe he does, then again, maybe he doesn't."

"He does. This I know." Liisan tapped her smooth pinkish forehead. "Believe me."

She shuffled toward the door. "Must go now. Relax, try to." Liisan waved once, then exited.

Relax. Sam grimaced. Relaxing meant having faith that things would work out. Having faith was so difficult, so very, very difficult. Picking up her lyre, she automatically strummed one of her favorite soothing melodies. As she played, recent images flashed through her mind. Mart in a coma -- Mart coming to rescue her. Being lost outside -- escaping the volcano's fury -- Joe finding her. Seeds of love suddenly taking root, consuming her very being with tenderness, desire, and hope.

Joe. She needed to see him again. Standing in from of the mirror, she brushed her long hair and wrinkled her nose at the pale face reflected back at her. If she didn't get some sun soon, she'd turn into one of these pasty, bloodless robots.

Another chime sounded. It had to be Joe. She ran to the door. "Joe, I --"

It was that blonde man, Christopher Bainbridge. "Pardon me, I do regret intruding, but...I'm searching for the mighty JorVaal. Is he with you?"

At one time the man's rigid good looks would have appealed to her. Not anymore. Not since Joe. She shook her head. "No, he's not here."

Christopher's broad shoulders slumped. He gazed down the hallway left and right as if hoping Joe would suddenly appear. "I have news -- disturbing news."

Sam's heart constricted. Goodness, more upsetting news. "Maybe you'd like to come inside and tell me?" Not that she wanted to hear. Heaven knew she had enough on her mind. But the flaxen-haired giant appeared as tense as a rutting bull moose.

"Lor, I am much obliged!"

His shaky grin convinced her she'd done the right thing to invite him in.

He stepped inside. After a brief glance at her bland, generic quarters, he gestured with his hands.

"It's the Uortzks. I've just received word from Deneb 4 -- the Uortzks have left their planetary system en masse. Thousands of huge ships are surging into the Cygnus sector, theta quadrant. Enough to house their entire population."

She sat down. More complications. Life on Xaspaar was certainly no picnic. "That doesn't bode well for Rama, does it? Fleeing the scene of the crime, so to speak. But Joe -- JorVaal probably knows all that. With Central Control's communications --"

"True, but the GCC doesn't know this -- not only are the Uortzks sabotaging Rama, but plans are in the works to wreak havoc with Xaspaar's sun, as well."

"Here?" Sam's voice squeaked at least two octaves higher.

"I'm at fault. I neglected to review my Denebian messages for several days. I -- I've been brooding about a personal setback." Christopher lowered his head. "Xaspaar's sun is already affected. This increased seismic and volcanic activity is due to Uortzk treachery."

"Dry Gulch's eruption?" She reached up to pat his arm. "You can't blame yourself. Even if Control had been aware, nothing could've been done about that."

He grasped her hand and almost crushed it in his. "Thank you for your kindness, Sophia. I --"

Without warning, the entry door slid open. Joe stormed inside, lowering his thunderous brows at the sight before him.

"What are you doing here, Bainbridge?"

Joe's tone would've caused anyone to quake and Christopher was no exception. "I - - I was looking for you, mighty JorVaal."

Sam reclaimed her hand and stood. She also had the shakes, but not from fear. Her gaze tenderly skimmed him from head to toe, reacquainting herself with his beloved form. His face appeared gaunt and bluish shadows darkened the skin under his eyes. He was suffering, even as she suffered. She clasped her hands in her lap to keep from touching him.

"Most people knock before entering, Joe."

Her rebuke didn't faze him. He raised a sardonic eyebrow. "I am not most people, Sophia." Taking an intimidating step toward Christopher, he hardened his tone. "Urgent matters demand my attention. What is it that you wish to say?"

The man backed away. Looking at the squared tips of his boots, he quickly informed Joe about the danger facing Xaspaar...and the delay in passing this information on.

"Blast!" Joe hammered his fist into his opened palm. "That explains the excessive static interference and the dormant volcano's sudden activity." His eyes took on a steely glow. "I shall notify Control of this situation." A heavy sigh followed. "Another meeting with Pent' is inevitable."

Neither she nor Christopher dared to break the silence and Joe's intense thoughts. But he collected his composure.

"You have done your duty, citizen -- albeit belatedly. You may leave us now."

Christopher winced, then nodded. Briefly shooting his gaze to Sam, he tightened his lips and left the room.

"Did you have to be so rough on him, Joe?"

Instead of replying, he strode over to the wall communication unit and punched levers. While he talked with Control, she resisted the urge to play her lyre. Something -- anything to calm her nerves. This upcoming session between her and him was not going to be easy.

"Sophia." His voice had an unrecognizable harshness to it.

She refused to turn around and look at him. "Yes?"

He stepped behind her chair. His heavy breathing sent tendrils of her hair flying forward, tickling her nose.

"We must talk, dear one."

Her stomach plummeted. "We must talk..." That expression could signal good news or bad. Dear Lord, she couldn't handle anymore bad news.

Joe gently lifted her to her feet, so that they stood face to face, as much as their height differences would allow.

"Time is not a luxury we can afford now, Sophia. I must go and confront Pent'. There is much to do." His fingers dug into her shoulders' soft skin. "Since we separated, I have not thought about anything else. I cannot lose you. Whatever it takes, I will do. You have my word."

Tears stung her eyes and his face swam before her blurred vision. "Do you mean you won't allow the Breeding Concave to remove the babies?"

Hope lifted her spirits. If only...if only...

Securing her hand, he pressed it against the right side of his chest, over his pounding heart. "I will find a way to circumvent the law, Sophia. Your babies -- our babies will be safe."

She melted into his arms. "Oh, Joe! How I prayed that you would see things as I do. That our twins are a blessing and --"

"Hush, little one." He stilled her anxieties with a myriad of tiny kisses over every inch of her face. At last finding her lips, he took her mouth in a soul-wrenching kiss. All too soon, he pulled away.

"By the Pleiades, I vow this will turn out right. My solemn promise."

A thousand or two kisses later. "I did more research on the Romans, Sophia. Did you know that Janus is also the god of passages, of protected birth?"

"No." She smiled and hugged him even harder.

"Yes. Your Earth has many beneficial things to offer us. We have been wrong to obliterate our past. When time permits, I hope to remedy this omission. Indeed, I found a quotation from a Roman statesman, Marcus Tullus Cicero, that is particularly apt. He said, 'To be ignorant of what occurred before you were born is to remain always a child'."

Joe entangled his fingers in her hair. "You will make a most worthy teacher to us all."

Love for him filled her heart, almost to bursting. "You're the one who taught me about love, you maddening man!" She nipped his ear. "I'm crazy about you, you know."

"Crazy? As in demented?"

"Crazy as in 'I love you', you dolt!"

He raised her up higher and carefully swung her around, which sent her dress soaring on the breeze. Laughing, he said, "You have more in common with Nona than you'll ever know, my dear one! And if crazy means that I love you, then I'm crazy about you for all eternity."

She must've died and gone to heaven! Joe loved her; he really did.

His roguish smile made her heart sing. "Now that our immediate future together is assured, Sophia, I confess I have a favor to ask of you -- again."

She dimpled her smile at him. "Make love to a woman, then ask her for favors? I see that I need to focus on the finer art of wooing as my first topic of instruction!"

Before he could comment, the speaker communicator bellowed a message. "The most exalted Pent' and congregation have just arrived in the mediation chamber, mighty JorVaal."

Grim-faced, Joe flipped a switch and replied, "Understood. Sophia McLaren and I will be there momentarily."

He placed his hands back on her shoulders. "That is my favor, dearest one. Do you mind arbitrating one more time?"

She grabbed his arm and hurried to the door. "Not at all, mighty JorVaal. I have a vested interest in this world now. Do you think I could fiddle while Rome burns?"

His frown conveyed his puzzlement. "Your reference escapes me, Sophia."

"Oh boy, do I have my work cut out for me!" She gave him a wink. "C'mon, Joe. Let's not keep Pent' and company waiting."

If she thought the atmosphere had been tense inside the mediation chamber before, it was nothing to the hostile vibrations now bouncing off the gleaming walls. Pent' sat stoically, joined by four fiercely intimidating Uortzks. Across from this quintet sat Fredd, Mart, and a Wn-Ganite. Sam could toss a coin to decide which team looked more grim. When she and Joe took their places at the table, only Mart responded with a brief, welcoming smile.

She sighed. So hard to switch gears from being supremely happy to shouldering the troubles of the cosmos.

Joe got right to business. "Grievous news has reached the Council concerning a Uortzk invasion, Pent'. Eglan and I have proof that your people precipitated an attack on the Xaspaar system. And that a major offensive is close to being implemented."

When Pent' shrugged his massive shoulders, Fredd growled a low obscenity.

"The Greater Helena volcanic eruption can be traced to Uortzk subterfuge," Joe continued. He then paused, letting the seriousness of the allegations sink in. "What do you say to these charges?"

Before shifting her attention to Pent', Sam studied Eglan, the third member of the triumvirate. Almost Human in form, the outline of his body pulsed with a glowing, vibrant green. Normally, green was a peaceful and calm color, but on the Wn-Ganite, it seemed to spark the fires of outrage.

Pent' consulted with one of his comrades, then locked gazes with Joe. "We do not dispute your accusations."

"Great stars above, this dinna make any sense!" Fredd sputtered. "After two hundred years of peace, why are yer people overturning the treaty? Ach, man, why do you blatantly seek to destroy Rama?"

His arm out to restrain Fredd from jumping out of the chair, Joe added, "Indeed, these questions are all on our minds. Plus one more item, why do you abandon your planet?"

Pent' didn't hesitate with his reply. "Did not you Humans abandon yours not so long ago?"

Sam felt, rather than saw Joe flinch.

"In your instance, mighty JorVaal, wanderlust was the reason. In ours, it is more vital, more central to our philosophy -- our inner animism, you could say."

All five Uortzks nodded their heads as one, almost as if the movement was choreographed.

"We of Uortzk are warriors! Councils, mediation, arbitration -- bah! 'Govern, Communicate, and Cooperate' -- this motto is for weaklings! We desire a return to the old ways before Humans interfered with our divine reign of the galaxy."

Eglan pounded his fist on the table, which set off vivid green embers of static electricity. "No! We sshall never ssubmit to Uortzk dominance again!"

Joe narrowed his gaze. "These deeds can only be construed as acts of war, Pent'. Can this truly be what your people want?"

"What we personally want is of no importance. Let it be known that the actions against Xaspaar's sun do not have our approval." Pent' flung out his arm to include himself and his delegates. "However, Rama's explosion will cause an end to this vapid, unnatural GCC. With the supernova will be a birth. A birth of a new wormhole -- poised to enter the Andromeda Galaxy. Untold worlds waiting to be conquered! And we will conquer them. This is our life challenge!"

The audacity of the scheme left Sam breathless. Destroying who knew how many planets, how many people, in order to pacify their aggressive tendencies. She shot a quizzical look at Mart. How could the Uortzks be certain that a wormhole would be created, and that it would provide a passage to Andromeda? Mart must've understood her question for he spread out his palms in a "don't ask me" gesture.

Joe ignored their by-play. "You realize we will not allow you to proceed with your plans, Pent'."

Pent's smile revealed his long, round, solid teeth. "You may hold us here as prisoners, but you cannot stop the Uortzk fleet, Human."

A blatant insult. Even Eglan stiffened.

Mart scribbled something down and passed a message to Joe. He nodded. "My colleague from Earth points out a caveat of tremendous proportions. Perhaps you are not aware of primordial black hole 29P238 located in the theta quadrant. Rama's explosion, along with the black hole's imminent evaporation, will upset the delicate balance in the galaxy. The consequences have enormous repercussions."

To Pent's credit, he did look concerned. But maybe for the wrong reason. "A collapsed star in the theta quadrant? Can this be?" He barked alien words in his associate's ear, much to that fellow's discomfort.

Sam fiddled with her top button. Something niggled her memory. In the Council meeting, Pent' hadn't been paying attention during the black hole portion of the meeting. If he didn't know about the hole's existence, then most likely the Uortzk high command also was in the dark. So...

Normally that wouldn't be such a big deal, but Pent' was worried. His mane of rusty fur almost stood straight out in alarm. Which meant...which meant that there was a good possibility his people, the entire Uortzk fleet, were in danger.

Christopher Bainbridge's conversation returned to her: "The Uortzks have left their planetary system en masse. Thousands of huge ships are surging into the Cygnus sector, theta quadrant. Enough to house their entire population."

Good heavens! What if they were blindly headed into that tiny black hole? What if the Uortzk people were destined to become the food that filled 29P238's belly?

"Sophia? Are you feeling all right?" Joe leaned over to her.

She nodded weakly, and looked at Pent'. His hirsute face had a bleached out color.

"I'm so sorry, Pent'. I have a dreadful feeling that your people are in grave trouble. Do you know if they are headed in the direction of --"

"Lady, you are perceptive, as always. We accept your concern on our behalf." Pent' stood, then bowed. "Mighty JorVaal, Noble Eglan, as your prisoners, we must ask if we may contact our fleet -- on a matter of utmost urgency."

Comprehension and compassion filtered through the others' varied expressions. "Of course," Joe said.

After requesting guards, the Wn-Ganite responded, "Our condolencess, Pent'."

Sam solemnly watched Pent' leave the mediation room under a light escort. There really was no need for guards. After all, where would the Uortzks go? She knew, as well as she knew the position of her own hand that the Uortzk fleet was already hurtling to its doom.

"Maybe they're nowhere near the black hole. Maybe they're safe." Mart spoke the words that everyone hoped in their own hearts was true, for no matter what the Uortzks had done, no matter what they planned to do, the destruction of an entire race was an abomination to every galactic citizen.

"Maybe." Sam's voice sounded flat. A trickle of tears slid down her cheek and she savagely wiped the wetness away.

Perhaps it was poetic justice. The Uortzks sought to destroy the GCC by exploding Rama and creating a wormhole. The GCC sought to prevent a black hole's explosion by stuffing it full of external matter. To escape Rama's explosion the Uortzks had traveled, except for the thirty or so males here on Xaspaar, into the black hole. End result, the evaporation was indefinitely postponed and Rama saved, as was the GCC.

The only casualties were the Uortzks, and what a cost. The entire Uortzk population destroyed.

Joe stood, then helped Sam to her feet. "To paraphrase our Roman friend, Cicero, 'Uortzks are their own worst enemies.'"

"Aye, you've the right of that." Fredd led the way into the corridor. "But let's go to Central Control to confirm before we start holding funeral services."

Holding Joe's hand, Sam followed the group, sadder but definitely wiser. Maybe everything had happened for the best.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

In the inky wilderness of the Milky Way, a certain black hole, feeble from its lengthy lifespan, dilated its boundaries in anticipation of the approaching feast. It embraced the armada heading straight for its epicenter. Hurling at speeds no living mind could comprehend, one by one, the space-scarred ships entered the dreadful pit, never to be seen in this universe again.

She shifted her sensors away from the destruction. "Sadness leadens my being. A loss of millions, no, billions of intelligent souls."

Her companion reached to caress her molecules -- a comforting sensation. "We cannot know if the Uortzk migration into oblivion is indeed a loss, my own one. This galaxy will benefit from it, as will the GCC. Even this black hole has been aided."

Its circumference far larger than it had been in eons, the black hole flashed dazzling colors beyond of the range of Human eyesight -- out into the void of space.

Again, She avoided its unseemly glee. "Perhaps you are correct. Everything has a purpose. As Rama resumes its natural evolutionary cycle the threat to the galaxy is now over."

Another catastrophe prevented. "Ms. McLaren has brought wisdom to both the Uortzk commander as well as the Human leader." She preened. "I flatter myself in saying that Sophia has learned some lessons as well."

He agreed. "It was a stroke of genius to collide two individuals with divergent backgrounds -- a future-resistant Human and a past-hating one. The mighty JorVaal has discovered much about himself and his culture."

"But what of the twins? How will he justify two infants? And what about the young ones remaining in their mother's womb?"

"JorVaal will find a way." He gathered up his mass, then accelerated out of the area, heading for their next assignment.

Hesitant, She nonetheless followed her celestial partner, leaving the Uortzk carnage behind. She and He had other duties to perform; they could no longer interfere with the Humans' lives. All She could do at this point was pray. But perhaps She could do one last thing.

Easing into the uncomfortable chair in the mediation room, JorVaal took a gulp of fortifying coffee from his glass mug. With all that had happened over the last few weeks, it was good just to sit. Arrangements for the arrival of the newest GCC members -- Earthers -- had taken more time and effort than he had anticipated. That, plus keeping the news from Sophia, had kept all of Central Control on their toes.

In addition, the design and construction of Janus City wasn't moving as fast as he desired. Good thing Pent' and his people had offered to help build the new structures. One Uortzk worked as hard as two Humans. Of course, they too had a vested interest in seeing Janus City completed.

The chamber administration unit loudly interrupted his solitude. "The prisoner awaits outside the mediation room. Do you wish her admittance, Mighty JorVaal?"

He sighed. The sooner he got this unpleasantness over with the sooner he could see Sophia. Sophia...Even the sound of her name made him smile.

"Let the prisoner enter." Folding his hands in front of him, he watched Mirabelle Kingsley slowly walk into the room. Her slumped posture caused her dull, long curls to flop forward in front of her face, hiding a lackluster gaze.

Evidently, incarceration didn't agree with the woman, but then again, who wanted a traitor to thrive? He signaled for the guards to remain outside, then gestured for her to sit. Mirabelle flashed him a look, perhaps of reproach, then silently obeyed.

He might have felt sorry for her if her action hadn't been so heinous. As it was, he detested the very sight of her. "The Human Council has requested that I decide your fate, Mirabelle."

"JorVaal, I --"

"I have not granted you permission to speak."

Any argument she might have made died on her lips. Good.

"I have been requested to be merciful." His Sophia was a constant surprise. If left to his own inclinations, JorVaal would have demanded Mirabelle's head. "To continue, I have agreed to release you into the custody of a responsible citizen."

"Oh, thank you, JorVaal. I promise you will not regret your decision."

He smiled. In exactly five point three seconds, she would be singing a different tune.

"Indeed, I shall not. The biggest problem I faced, of course, was finding someone willing to take on this momentous responsibility. As you can imagine, you are not precisely popular with the citizens of Xaspaar."

She tilted her head and a questioning look wrinkled her brow.

"You must consider yourself fortunate that Christopher Bainbridge has taken on the assignment."

As she digested the information, JorVaal waited for the inevitable outburst. He wasn't disappointed.

"Bainbridge? Not that overgrown weed of a --"

JorVaal's grin almost stretched ear to ear. "You must learn to curb your temper, Mirabelle. I am told that women are quite submissive on Deneb 4."

"No! Deneb 4?" She jumped out of her chair. "You cannot mean that I have to go to that third rate piece of trash! I cannot! Oh, JorVaal, I would do anything to stay here on Xaspaar. Anything!"

The guards in the corridor took a step forward, most likely wanting to restrain the traitor. JorVaal nodded his approval.

"That is my decision, Mirabelle. You may go." He lifted his mug and downed the remaining coffee.

Mirabelle pulled free from the guards and leaned over the table. "Wait! I have heard Pent' and the other Uortzks are being allowed to remain here. I -- I ask that I stay with them. After all, there are no female Uortzks, and..."

She couldn't finish her sentence, which was just as well. Even the guards gasped at her repugnant suggestion.

JorVaal sadly shook his head. How unfortunate that this woman was driven by such a lust for power. "You are wrong. Fifteen females from one of the outlying Uortzk colonies have been transported to Xaspaar, just as Hanik was also shipped out to a Brhite world. You cannot wish to join him?"

"Brhites?" Mirabelle shivered. "Hanik does not deserve such a cruel fate."

"Then you should be grateful for Bainbridge's offer." JorVaal nodded to the guards. "Now go, and make the most of your future life."

After the group left, he stood and straightened the points on his uniform shirt. He was anxious to start following his own advice.

Instead of pacing, Sam rocked away her nervous energy while sitting in Nona's antique chair. She hadn't seen Joe in three days, and time was beginning to wear thin. Even the prized window in his receiving room had failed to calm her spirits. Once again, she gazed out at the desolate, ash-covered landscape. Hard to believe the beauty she'd first seen a month ago was now gone. Sure, the jagged mountain range still inspired admiration, but Dry Gulch had blown its top; its majestic height was now reduced by two thousand feet.

For the ninety-ninth time, she scanned the devastated vista. The forest of paper trees and the vivid oval plants she'd seen would eventually grow back -- generations from now. It would be a long time before the area around Xaspaar City could be called a botanical delight. Folding her hands across her tummy, she did what she often did now: talk to her babies.

"Well, kids, I know your dad is super busy, but he did say that he'd be here at one o'clock. Honestly, I don't think we've seen him more than two days total in the past month."

She emulated Pent's habit of using the imperial "we," but for a different reason. She was now three people, instead of just one. Because of the babies. Two healthy, if tiny, babies. With the Health Bureau's technical equipment, she and Joe had been able to take a peek at the infinitesimal darlings, moving and gyrating inside her. Technology did have its good side. Technology had also cured Mart. Dear, excitable Mart.

Goodness, it was such a novelty to know that he was one hundred percent well. No more Beta-Siwinski Disease. Thank the heavens!

She yawned and rested her head against the back of the rocker.

A feather-light touch on her cheek caused her to jump. She must've fallen asleep, for here was Joe, leaning over her. She smiled, and this time, he kissed her lips.

"I hate to waken you from your slumber." He gave her a roguish smile. "Were you dreaming of me?"

"Conceited!" Leaping up, she enveloped him in a bear hug. How good it was to feel him again!

He gentled her hold on him. "Careful, dearest one. I fear you may be hurting young Nona and Marcus."

While Xaspaar's technology couldn't yet detect the babies' gender, both Sam and Joe believed the older Nona's prediction: a boy and girl. The girl's name was easy -- Nona. They had immediately agreed on that one. But naturally, Sam assumed that JorVaal 6 was the choice for the boy.

"Marcus?" With her fingertip, she circled the outside of Joe's ear, then blew soft kisses to tease him.

"You are a desirable minx!" Running his large hands down her sides, he returned her caresses.

For a moment, she reveled in his touch. But he hadn't answered her question. "Why Marcus?"

Joe sat her down, then moved the computer console, so that she could view it. "Because I have decided to break with recent tradition and hearken back to older times. Catching up on my Terran culture readings, I kept coming across the Roman, Cicero. Wise fellow that Cicero. What better way to integrate the past and the future than to name our son after him -- Marcus?"

"That's a fabulous idea! Nona and Marcus Lanquist -- the names have such a nice ring to them."

A noise, almost like someone clearing his throat, interrupted them. "Many pardons, mighty JorVaal, gracious Sophia. Martin McLaren from Terra requests entrance to speak with you both." DOM, cleared its "throat".

Joe sighed. "That boy did not give me enough time! Is he always so impatient?"

Intrigued, Sam winked. "It depends on the situation."

"Right. Have him enter."

Mart rushed in on a swift current of air. "Impolite to keep your guest waitin'," he scolded with a wagging finger.

Sam's lips twitched. "You're never a guest, Mart. You're always a pest."

The look of surprise on his face was priceless.

"Cute, sister dear. But let's get to the point -- you haven't told her yet, have you, Joe?"

"Not eager, are you, Martin?"

Sam stamped her foot. "Enough already, you two! Tell me what?"

Joe switched on the computer console and punched in codes. The screen lit up with a turquoise color. "Delegates from Terra will be arriving in twenty-five hours and --"

"Really?" She couldn't stay still. Vaulting to her feet, she left the rocking chair behind and curved her arms around Joe. "You're inviting Earth to join the GCC? How wonderful! Maybe I can prepare things for their stay."

A million ideas zoomed through her mind. She could make room arrangements and --

Mart tapped her on the shoulder. "Geez, I thought you'd rather help Iris."

"Help her with what?"

Her brother grinned. "With the wedding, of course. Or should I say, weddings?"

Struck mute, Sam's mouth flapped open. "Joe?"

He spread his hands wide. "Martin and I thought that you and Iris would enjoy the rituals of that particular traditional custom."

"Well, I'll be snowed!" Tears popped into her eyes. She quickly wiped them away. "This is so great! After the delegates arrive, we can get married --"

"Before." Both Joe and Mart couldn't conceal their amusement.

If the Earthers were to arrive in twenty-five hours, that didn't leave much time. "How much before?"

Mart danced out his excitement. "How does two hours sound to you?"

She blinked. "Two hours, Joe? That sounds...quick."

"The sooner the better, dearest one." Joe's kiss sent shivers of desire up and down her back.

Mart pulled on her arm. "Cut out the mushy stuff, you guys. Save that for later."

The reality of what was happening hit her. "I've got to get hopping. Two hours!" She smacked her forehead. "But this is good. Tomorrow we can greet the newcomers and -- "

"I don't think that will be possible. I think you are going to be quite busy." Joe enlarged the picture now visible on the computer screen.

A tranquil outdoor scene brightened the room with its vigorous, healthy colors. In the foreground, small indigo posies of flowers bowed in the breeze, while a fast moving river splashed whitecaps over rugged greenish boulders. In the background, tall, leafy trees spread long, delicate branches up to the cerulean sky. There was something else. Sam squinted at a brown square-shaped object nestled among the trees in the forest. She looked again. It was a house!

"What is that, Joe? And where is it?"

He adjusted a knob, bringing the building into the foreground. This time she saw five houses, with more in the distance. Someone was moving, too. From behind the building, a large figure hammered something into the house.

Good heavens! It was Pent'! She hadn't seen him since the meeting in the mediation room.

Joe walked behind her to massage her neck. "Our new home, Sophia. Located beyond the confines of Xaspaar City and past the volcano damage. What you see is part of the newly constructed Janus City -- thanks to Pent' and his colleagues." Joe hesitated. "With your permission, Pent' and the remaining Uortzks along with some of their women, would also like to live here. I hope you agree, for they have suffered enough."

She nodded and tried to speak, but no words came. This was all like a dream come true.

"It's like this, sis," Mart explained. "You love the outdoors and so do I. And Iris thinks a colony away from Xaspaar City is a good idea. It'll be a cosmic adventure!"

Joe whispered in her ear. "No outmoded rules or regulations in Janus City, Sophia. We may have two or ten babies. The choice is up to us."

Her lips trembling, she turned to face him. "This...this is..." This time, a torrent of tears refused to be stopped. "You would do this for me?" She splayed out her hands over her stomach. "For us?"

Mart grinned and headed for the door. "Hey, I'm outta here. Two hours -- don't forget." The door slid closed behind him.

Joe clasped her hands and kissed each fingertip. "I would do anything for you, my dearest Sophia. To paraphrase the worthy Cicero again, 'Nothing is more noble, nothing more venerable than love.'"

With that, Joe took her in his arms and crushed her to him, taking possession of her mouth, her mind and soul. As she drank in the masculine taste of him, she gave thanks for every blessing under the sun.

Lost to everything except her and Joe's inner desires, the strangest sensation overcame her. All at once, she felt showered with warmth, approval, and tenderness. These emotions had to come from something...or someone outside her and Joe. It was just like the feeling she had experienced on Earth -- the peculiar feeling that, perhaps, set all these recent, fantastic events into motion.

She smiled and said another silent prayer. Before coming to the center of the Milky Way, she'd been afraid of the future. Now she gloried in it, pleased to be sharing her new life with a beloved husband, two children, a healthy brother, and more of God's gifts than she could count.

"Only two hours," she murmured to Joe. "I think we'd better stop before we get carried away."

Joe's eyes reflected pure love and joy. "Dearest one, I was carried away the first moment I saw you."

Sam squealed her delight. With apologies to her home planet, Xaspaar was indeed the most desirable place in the galaxy!

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