There went Chiraine’s idea of convincing a sentient wardship to take us home.
I looked over at the Rhya floating within the containment field and asked the obvious question. “What about this one?”
“It was here—nosing around the containment field generator I had built. That’s what saved it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I introduced the Obaswoon to a lot of technology that they weren’t supposed to have. I’m an engineer. I couldn’t help it. Anyway, the Rhya sent this guy—the Inspector, I call it—to survey the mess I made by introducing TL-7 tech to a TL-5 civilization.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“It was literally swimming within the containment field when this thing hit. Its buddies outside of the field dropped dead and the Inspector has been freaking out since. But being a superior intelligence, I think it knows enough not to leave the field.”
I felt my head exploding. This was incredible.
“Can you talk to it?” I asked.
“Their communications magnata was knocked out during the attack. I’m pretty sure the Inspector understands us, but without machine-assist, he can’t communicate back.”
That made sense. I knew that the Rhya didn’t have the physical means to make sounds. At least sounds that humans could hear. The Rhya had magnatae that were programmed to interact with other species. That’s the way our folks at Beck Salvage worked with them.
I approached the containment field and motioned to the Rhya. “Hello,” I said. “Can you help us?”
I was reasonably certain that the Vostok was equipped with a comm box or something else that might allow us to communicate with the Inspector.
We just had to get the Rhya there. And, thankfully, Narcissa had an idea about that.
“We salvaged some fuel cells from one of the crashed ships,” she said. “With a little luck, I can rig up a mobile containment field.”
“Does it even need the containment field?” I asked. “It’s been four days. Maybe the scidatium or whatever has dispersed.”
“I have no idea. I don’t know exactly what it was that slaughtered them.”
“Neither did the guy who deployed it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“His name is Qualt and he’s currently locked up in his own brig.”
“On his own ship? You serious?” She grinned at me. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You are a Beck, after all.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that.
While Narcissa left to make preparations to transport the Inspector, I decided to talk to it some more.
I had never spoken to an advanced intelligence before, so I wasn’t sure what to say or how exactly to say it. I imagined it might be like a dog talking to me or something. Maybe more like a rat. Or a grasshopper.
In the end, I just spoke plainly, trying to communicate as clearly as I could.
I told the Inspector who I was, who I worked for, and why we had come through the Fountain. I told it about the betrayal by two of our crew members and being trapped on the orbital fortress Bandala. I even revealed how I had found my missing father alive, preserved in deep hibernation, and how he had ‘survived’ by placing his consciousness in an Aanthangan clone bot. I explained that the Mayir had destroyed our ship, but how we had found the Kryrk and tried to barter with it to be allowed to return through the Fountain.
The Rhya just floated there impassively. I didn’t know if it was bored, confused, half-dead, or actually interested in my story. But I continued anyway. This was the relevant part—to its troubles.
I explained that when Agon Qualt, captain of the Mayir ship, was trying to convince us to surrender the Kryrk and join him, he related how he disabled the Fountain and destroyed all the Rhya. I mentioned what Qualt had told us: he didn’t know how the weapon he used worked, only that it did work. He also bragged that the true purpose of his expedition was to set up long-range dark space beacons to that a Mayir squadron could make the jump here to the Nymorean system. Which they did. The Mayir’s plans were to plunder Yueld. And they would be looking specifically for ancient artifacts like the Kryrk which might be used as weapons.
I told the Inspector that my team and I had actually tried to destroy Bandala to keep its treasures out of the Mayir’s hands, but unfortunately, we failed.
Now we were on the run—in a stolen Mayir ship, and trapped in a galaxy three billion light years from home.
I asked the Inspector again, “Can you help us?”
Again, it had a blank look on its face.
Narcissa returned with two Obaswoon. Between them they carried what looked like an ancient medical stretcher piled with mechanical and electric parts—junk, essentially. But I did spot what appeared to be a PEM-cell.
“How was your meeting with the Inspector?” Narcissa asked.
“The conversation was a bit one-sided, but I kind of expected that.”
“You know I heard everything you said, right?”
My heart jumped. What?!
“It’s okay,” Narcissa said. “I wouldn’t fully trust me either. But you will. Once we get to know each other.” She gave me a kind of weird smile that unnerved me almost as much as learning that she had heard everything.
It made sense, of course. She probably had a ton of scanners set up in the room—not just audio.
Oh well. It was water under the bridge.
“I’m going to need an hour or so here,” Narcissa said. “So maybe you want to check on your captain?”
“Sure. How’s she doing?”
“Better than when we found her.” She instructed one of the guards to escort me across the plaza and into a low stone building that had been divided into rooms by brightly-colored, tent-like fabric.
In one of the rooms, I found Ana-Zhi stretched out on a cot. There was something weird
