including the Taelon, are more. Most of these species have no idea of the fate that lies before them and a few, again including the Taelon, do. You know of the wanton cruelty and indiscriminate slaughter that many of your kings and emperors have meted out to their own people as well as those of neighboring countries to bring themselves to power, and the even greater crimes committed by them to maintain it. But those excesses are as nothing compared to the actions on a planetwide scale by the Jarridians, who begin by…'
'Wh-what does a Jarridian look like?' Sinead broke in. In the dim lighting of the control canopy her face had gone a sickly shade of gray and suddenly her body felt as stiff and unyielding as a statue.
'It is plain from the language of your body muscles,' said Ma'el, gentleness retaining to his voice, 'that you already know. You had a timesight that you did not tell me about?'
'No.' Sinead shook her head in agitation, then immediately contradicted herself. 'I mean, yes. I was sleeping at the time and thought it was a nightmare, not real and therefore not worthy of mentioning. It was in a city of the far future, with tall buildings whose walls had more glass in them than bricks and smoothly paved streets crowded with people and shiny, brightly colored horseless coaches, and I could see and hear one of the metal birds flying high overhead. The thing, whatever it was, rampaged through the streets sending out thin bolts of lightning that burned and cut down the people even as they fled and made the vehicles explode into flames. The screaming was terrible to hear.'
Her hold on Declan tightened as she went on, 'It was like a squat, metal beast, or perhaps a beast encased in metal armor, but a beast it certainly was. Despite the entreaties of the men and women around it, it burned and killed and destroyed completely without mercy and nobody could stop it. I, I could not believe that it was real. Are you saying that it is?'
'The Jarridians,' said Ma'el, 'are real.'
Declan felt the stiffness in her body begin to ease. Now that Sinead's worst fear was confirmed, some perverse streak in her nature was enabling her to regain control of herself.
She said calmly, 'In the dream, I mean the timesighting, nobody there could stop the Jarridians. Can you?'
'No,' said Ma'el, 'not without help.'
Declan said, 'Sinead did not mention this to me, either, so I know nothing about the strengths or weaknesses of this seemingly unbeatable enemy. Will it come here?'
'Yes,' Ma'el replied. 'Sooner or later they will find your world.'
'Terrible they may be,' said Declan in a quietly furious voice, 'but they will not find it an easy conquest.'
'I know,' said Ma'el, 'and that is what gives me hope.'
For a long, silent moment Declan and Sinead looked at each other, then she detached his arm from around her waist before she spoke.
'You say that you need our help and you must already know that you will have it,' she said and, smiling, patted her waist, 'at least until the expected event is imminent and, naturally, after I am safely delivered and the child is well. What do you want us to do for you? And you said that we gave you, or perhaps you were including your people, hope. Can you clarify that?'
It was Ma'el's turn to be silent as he looked from one of them to the other. Finally he said, 'Over the past year you have become my protectors and trusted friends. You are not my slaves nor are you bound to me in any way other than by your self-imposed bonds of gratitude and duty. In the light of the event to come, the duty of parents to care for their offspring becomes the prime consideration and is, in fact, an evolutionary imperative that supersedes any duty that you may think you owe to me. Both of you are free to leave my service, with my gratitude and what some people on this world would call my blessings, at any time you choose.'
'Thank you, Ma'el,' said Sinead. 'But you haven't answered my question. We ask again, what help do you need from us?'
'And there is another question,' Declan said before Ma'el could reply. 'Why do we, a lowly and ignorant race by Taelon standards, give you hope?'
'I need help,' Ma'el replied, looking at Sinead, 'to recover my wagon, which contains treasure, devices, and records necessary for the completion of my report on your world. It must be brought back from the desert on what should be its final journey to Hibernia. This task can be accomplished within the physiological time limit imposed by the birthing and, as will shortly be explained, without risk to either of you. The second question…' he turned his eyes on Declan, '… will require time and in all probability a lengthy debate between us if it to be answered fully. I do not have the time to answer it now.
'Please attend to my words…'
… To return the wagon to Hibernia with the fewest possible risks, he explained, would mean employing the same ship and trusted crew as they had used on the way out. Unknown to Captain Nolan, Ma'el had placed a combination tracer and listening device in the other's cabin and he was aware, therefore, of both the ship's position and its reason for being there. At present it was three days from Alexandria where, after leaving Brian for nearly half a year in Egypt for reasons the diplomat had not mentioned to anyone, it was returning to bring him home. Declan would land at night as close as possible to the ship's berth, make contact with the captain, and enlist his help in recovering the wagon which would be cleared of its sandy protection to await him driving it back to the Orla for its return to Hibernia. There was no need for Sinead to take part in this routine matter since she and Ma'el would be watching over the entire operation from orbit. Ma'el showed him how to make his ear ornament and translation collar act as a long-range communications system so that the three of them could speak to each other when necessary.
And so it was that Declan flanked by Captain Nolan and Black Seamus presented themselves at the gates of the caravanserai. For sailors they looked strangely at ease on their mounts, but he supposed that the transition from the heaving deck of a ship to the saddle of a galloping horse was an easy one. He identified himself, unnecessarily since the guard detail seemed already to know him, as Declan the Hibernian and friends who wished words with their officer. Bashir was with them in moments.
'Declan!' he cried. 'I did not expect to see you alive, much less looking so well. Any friends of yours are friends of mine and are welcome here…' he looked at the fierce countenance of Black Seamus, and smiled, '… and this one I wouldn't want as an enemy. What can I do for you…? But I forget my manners. Dismount and refresh yourselves and tonight we shall talk of that glorious battle and…'
'Thank you, Bashir,' said Declan, 'but again I am pressed for time. My master and the other servant are elsewhere, so we will not be assisted by his magic or a screaming djinn…'
'Relieved I am to hear it,' said Bashir.
'… But I must retrieve his wagon and the valuables it contains from their place of concealment in the desert. For that I need one of your officers and a mounted escort to convey them to Alexandria. That is if you can spare the men and we can agree on a price.'
'The escort would be happy to be led by you,' Bashir said, and laughed, 'whether or not you call down another djinn. Since that battle and rescue of the caravan, our warlike local sheik has left us in peace. So I can spare the men and you, Declan, my fierce and fair-minded friend, can set the price. But it will take a little time for the escort to be readied and provisioned for the journey. Please friends, dismount and take refreshment…'
It was eight days later, Orla was three hours out of Alexandria, the sun was dying a spectacular death off their starboard bow, Ma'el's wagon was again tightly secured in its former position amidships, and Declan was looking forward to the evening meal in the captain's cabin. He had spoken to the orbiting vessel many times-the collar enabled this to be done in an undertone and it did not matter if some of the crew thought he was talking to himself-and mostly in soft and private words to Sinead.
Brian had gained several inches around his waist and looked to be his usual cheerful self but, Declan thought, there was a look in his eyes which suggested that he had matters on his mind that were making it difficult to hold his smile in place.
'Declan, it is good to see you again,' he said, when they had finished the meal and more of Brian's wine had been poured, 'even though your face is showing a few more scars. Perhaps you can pass the time amusingly for us by telling how you came by them, always bearing in mind that a certain amount of exaggeration for dramatic effect is expected. Drink up, friend, and tell us of your adventures.'
Without returning the other's smile, Declan shook his head.
'Come, now,' said Brian, 'shyness sits oddly on such a large and heavily scarred man. The captain, Seamus, and I already know all about each other, your magician master and the young woman healer aren't here to entertain
