Part 30 (1/2)

'I'm not sure,' and Damia s.p.a.ced her words carefully, 'that I could go that far again.' 'Ah, but you won't be going by yourself, pet,' Isthia said comfortably.

'I shouldn't be going at all.' 'That's why you must,' Afra said, gently pus.h.i.+ng his index finger into the soft part of her arm. She felt not only the vibrancy of cool-green but a resolution she could not fight. She'd been terribly wrong once, and Afra had suffered. Afra and Larak. She must trust Afra now if his feeling was that strong.

Isthia was shaking her head slowly. 'I wish we had a reliable way to convey a response.

'What do you mean, Isthia?' Afra asked.

'I mean, I send a message by Ian and Damia gets the answer.

'Send the question by Damia then.' 'If Damia doesn't mind ' Isthia looked hopefully at her granddaughter and Damia conceded gracefully.

'Then we'll try it tonight.' 'Why wait until tonight?' asked Afra.

'Sleep seems to be the vector,' Isthia said.

Afra chuckled. 'Then Damia can go to sleep. 'I what?' Afra rose, took Damia by the hand and, with a perplexed Isthia following, stalked out to the corner of the porch where the hammocks swayed gently in the breeze.

Afra sat Damia down in one, picked her feet up and motioned for her to get comfortable while he set the hammock swaying.

'I can put Damia to sleep any time,' he said, grinning broadly.

'Now, wait a minute-' but Damia's protest was cut off as Afra began to croon the same song he'd sung her to sleep with the night before. She had no choice in the matter but her last outraged thought was that she'd settle this with him when next she was awake.

The sequence started instantly, only this time Damia took control and, as the visitors made their way up the hill, she separated a figure from those at the top and walked it down towards the visitors. She stopped it at the globe. Then, beckoning broadly to them, she urged them to follow her back up the hill. She was then back at the start of the dream and repeated her rea.s.surance, to be sent back to the beginning at which point she was becoming rather annoyed that they couldn't get so simple a message.

She woke up grumpy, her head foggy with sleep.

'Afra Lyon, you stop doing that to me,' she said, shaking a finger under his nose.

'Works, though, doesn't it?' He was not the least bit repentant.

'How?' asked Isthia, mystified, but she regarded Afra with considerable respect.

'Goes back to when Damia wouldn't sleep at night.

The daycare Talent and I used a prudent post-hypnotic suggestion and, with a bit of rocking and a line or two of a lullaby, Damia would drop off to sleep just fine for her mother' 'And it has lasted this long?' Damia was incredulous.

'I've proved it. Mind you,' and Afra's voice held the note that meant he was teasing, 'I wish I'd been fore thoughtful on other matters.

'As well you weren't,' Damia said direfully.

He helped her up out of the hammock and hugged her.

'So, tell us what happened?' Isthia asked, getting back to the more important matter.

'I told them we'd meet them at the DEW, and indicated that we'd welcome them. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?' Isthia nodded her enthusiasm. 'Now, do we get Jeran 5 a.s.sistance?' 'We'd have to explain everything,' Damia said with an exaggerated groan. 'You know how Jeran is. A, B, C and D!' 'Damia, did you feel threatened by the dream?' Afra asked, no hint of levity in his expression.

'No. I'd like to believe Isthia's intuition is correct.' 'Like to believe?' Isthia asked.

Afra held up his hand. 'That's fair, Isthia.

'I suppose so. Well, let's tell Ian and Rakella. We'll need their help anyway.' The one vehicle at Deneb Tower which could carry three long bodies was a medium-sized rescue pod with four conformable seats. It had probably been left behind by a liner for its engine was missing but it still had working directional thrusters. They put in fresh oxygen tanks and dusted down the console, rather pleased to have a vehicle that had standard communications as well as a viewplate and external sensors. Jeran was not on duty, which was no problem as Ian and Rakella knew how to run up the generators. Damia could feel her palms sweating and her stomach was griping badly as she settled herself into her chair, Isthia on one side, Afra just behind her.

'I'll make the lift,' Isthia said, settling her hips deeper into the seat. 'You're completely cured, Damia, but you save your strength for the contact.' Damia had a moment of panic for that decision, but Isthia had never lied to her and probably wasn't now. It just would have been so rea.s.suring to push off again, as she used to do so blithely.

You could now, too, love, said Afra in a fine thin tone.

He reached forward to give her shoulder a rea.s.suring squeeze.

Relax!

She was quivering with tension and forced herself to unwind. She could, however, sense the rising keen of the generators and felt Isthia tense as she waited for exactly the right mo She launched them, a good strong thrust that Damia could objectively admire. It was good to be in deep s.p.a.ce again. And then the pod's proximity alarm beeped urgently.

'Bring up the screen, Damia, Afra said, leaning forward to peer over her shoulder, 'There it is!' cried Isthia, unnecessarily pointing, her expression exultant.

'It' was not a large s.h.i.+p, which immediately encouraged Damia to believe in amicable motives. 'It' was also a deep-s.p.a.ce craft, having the usual haphazard design of s.h.i.+ps that were never intended to land.

It did have what looked very much like weaponry: wide-mouthed orifices that were stained with old fires and long snouts pointing outwards and looking effective.

Ian, turn off the DEW, Isthia said. We don't want the Fleet charging out here and blowing us and our visitors up. Yes, that bunch of toggles under the red rimmed gla.s.s panel. Turn 'em all off. The disconnection won't show up for an hour or two.

At which time we'll know one way or the other 'I think I have to go to sleep again,' Damia said drily.

'Will just the song do it, Afra? These seats aren't made for rocking.' 'I could rock the pod,' offered Isthia.

'We'll try without that, thank you,' Afra said and, with his hand on Damia's shoulder, began to sing the potent lullaby.

She knew she was shaking her head as sleep once more claimed her.

The pattern was gone. Instead she was inside the other s.h.i.+p, looking out at her tiny cargo pod. This time other figures were clearly visible and they were definitely alien.

Despite their unusual appearance, she could sense no danger, nothing 'heavy', only relief. The 'visitors' looked to be tall though she had no gauge by which to compare them, save the bulky equipment.

They did not sit, but stood on the three rear appendages, stubby legs which ended in splayed feet with three thick 'toes'. The upper limbs had five longer digits, one on each side of a squat 'palm' and three along its top. The heads were long, tapering to what appeared to be a muzzle but she could not see a mouth. One eye of a composite nature crowned the thick 'head'. There seemed to be dorsal ridges along the backbone. Maybe one of the three feet was actually a caudal appendage.

Their skin or pelt, she couldn't discern which, was sleek and varicoloured, ranging from greys through green, brown and a slaty blue.

Some were definitely taller than others but she didn't think the smaller ones were immature or of another s.e.x.

Instantly her dream self turned towards a flat surface, set at a distance above the deck. This surface abruptly lit up and images began to form. More of this species, racing to enter what she had to identify as shuttles.

These took off into s.p.a.ce and she watched them link up with larger versions of the s.h.i.+p she was dreaming on. In a ma.s.sed array, this fleet left its...o...b..t, obviously in battle readiness.

To her shock, she saw their objective: a Beetle Hive Sphere. She watched the battle, saw 'her' s.h.i.+ps being destroyed, saw the Hive Sphere send its fighters out, watched them being destroyed and then, with great relief, saw the Hive s.h.i.+p suddenly explode, sending huge chunks spinning off, sometimes colliding with 'her' s.h.i.+ps and demolis.h.i.+ng them.

Abruptly those scenes segued into huge fragments turning end over end against. -- Suddenly the background changed and it was the Denebian system from which the twisted detritus escaped.

Then all the dream figures turned inwards to face her and she was overwhelmed with a sense of urgency, of interrogation, of fear.

In yet another wrench of perspective, she was back in the pod, crying out.