“Transmit,” he orders.
“Admiral, the Dragon was damaged in a crash pursuing Ki-Ton to his home world, and we have no means to search for our Captain.”
Maxtin reaches for something offscreen. He holds up a well-worn pocket-sized book. Australia recognizes the faded red symbol on the cover. The lined pattern is the same one Reynard asked her to investigate after seeing it tattooed on Youshon, Micah Donkor and Queen Aurora. All original founders of the UCP, just as Maxtin was.
“This is the oldest copy I have of a tome known as the Simballmum. Some consider it a religious text, and others, a fantasy. Known additions are copies of copies of copies, and separate, unrealized cultures have had copies of the text with their own historical variations added in. It speaks of Sandmen.”
“Which is why most would consider it a fiction,” JC adds.
“Telepaths were a great threat to these creatures.”
“I detect a presence when they are close—about to pounce. But it’s not enough to warn anyone,” JC lies. She was able to detect the Sandman snatching Reynard sooner. Enough to have warned him, but her flash of the future when she opened the tomb to Ki-Ton’s people revealed that Reynard must be taken.
“The training necessary has logically been forgotten. Sandmen faded into children’s nightmares in the closet. Find a telepath who’s allowed to return to the Sisterhood and have her investigate. Retrieve copies of the Symballmum and use its text for information.”
“It won’t tell us where to find Reynard,” Scott demands.
“No. Sandmen don’t kidnap. No story or myth ever speaks of such an act. Figure out why he has value to them and it could reveal his location. I’ll read your report. Ki-Ton’s treachery has to be negated. I’ll transmit any useful information I learn.”
The view screen cuts out.
“He doesn’t know.”
“The Admiral always has contingencies, and this moment he remains at a loss.”
“He gave us something. We repair the Dragon and locate a copy of this Symballmum,” JC says.
“What about your Sisterhood?” Scott asks.
“I have a few allies at the temple who might be able to research.”
“I have explored the Grand Library in search of information on my people after the Tibbar invaded Nysa. Rumor is your Sisterhood has even more extensive information about the galaxy and its history.”
“Only a select few are ever granted access, and never a non-telepath,” JC says.
“I don’t think any of this will give us a location to Reynard,” Scott adds. “Useful information on the Sandmen, maybe, but not a location.”
Australia punches in information on the keyboard adjacent to the main control panel. “Jenobis III has a shipyard and several historical research centers. Unless someone has a better recommendation, we travel there. Scott, you transfer control of the Dragon from the shuttle and I will research the Sandmen.”
“Jenobis have synthoid replicators?” he asks.
“It is an industrial system with four asteroid belts that they mine for resources,” Australia says.
“I’ll set a course.”
EVOLUTION CREATES SPECIES for a specific environment, not meaning for travel outside the confines of an ecological system. A natural way to maintain a balance. Nytalyan’s attempts at altering this universal law have dried her skin to painful cracks. Over each bulbous eye a bulky misting apparatus sprays the pupil to keep moisture on it. Leaving the compound was a mistake. Staying on Shalenotun VII may cause permanent damage to her body. Livable damage if Admiral Kantian receives and utilizes the information.
Saltāl’s distance and growing interest in Peratimas’s viewpoints worries her. Saltāl risked his life at the Mokarran command center. Now she must search him out, risking her life.
Gray snow flurries down on the growing no man’s land around the central headquarters. She wipes clean the lens over her eye. Her white cloth uniform stains with the ash. Gutting fires have reduced half the city to skeletal cinders. Commodore Micah Donkor was assassinated for dealing with the Mokarran, but his secret deals prevented his people from facing the destruction overwhelming them now.
Tactically armored Tri-Star shock troops patrol the charred streets in trios. They prevent her from traveling farther until they scan her DNA bar.
“Command staff should stay within the compound.” He views her identification on a computer pad.
Nytalyan wishes she held a rank. Despite being part of Mokarran command delegating orders to fleet Admirals, she has no legitimate status in the command structure. “The recent firebombing prevents communications with fellow staffers not yet designated to the compound living quarters.”
“Dispatch a security detail,” he suggests.
Nytalyan draws up her shoulders. Never has she been confrontational. “I need to know if they are alive. Your security details failed to protect the Mokarran at the groundbreaking ceremonies.”
“Working for Command doesn’t give you privilege.”
Nytalyan was hoping to have struck a nerve. Even if no one speaks of the Mokarran treatment of non-Mokarran, the tensions remain. When her evidence breaks, the growing rift should split the Federation open.
“If I had privilege, you’d be searching for my friends instead of harassing me.”
“Brave for an Aequipinatus not wearing body armor,” the soldier on the right comments.
“The Mokarran want us bickering among ourselves instead of dealing with their treatment of all of us. What are you doing with the survivors you encounter?” Nytalyan’s burst of information brings pause to the soldier’s face.
“You move along.”
Nytalyan’s discovered most TSF citizens fear the Mokarran and the consequence of questioning their leadership. Fear of informants keeps many in line. Being brazen enough to speak ill of Command could be a ploy to entrap the disloyal. Luckily, they did not call her bluff.
As she marches away she makes a mental note to discover where the survivors from this burnt section are being transplanted. She knows where the wounded children from the groundbreaking were sent, but no transports have been dispatched for this burnt area.
As she travels more snowing ash covers her. Shalenotun faces covered with bandanas shovel the growing residue from the street as more soldiers guard
