Green Comet

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

We’re down to the last few chapters. Thank you for coming along and I hope to see you joining in future projects. In this chapter we find out more about the Prime and the people living in it.

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rjb

Chapter Fifty-Two – Hints

Pilgrim One took a moment to find his voice. He looked at Archie with a vaguely surprised expression on his face. Had he been expecting something more impressive? Something bigger than this little furry biped with wings? Something that merited the tough talk with Supervisor Steel. Finally he said, a little louder than necessary, “Yes they are weapons, and we’re going to keep them.”

“That’s fine,” said Archie. “Wear them if they make you feel comfortable, but please don’t …”

“Don’t use them. We know. The Prime doesn’t like them.” Pilgrim One scowled at Blunt, who was protectively cradling his injured arm. “Why do you blame your ship for your actions? Why don’t you take responsibility yourselves?”

“The Prime is not our ship,” said Archie. “We normally travel in much smaller vessels. You might have seen one attached to the rear of the Prime.”

After a brief silence, Tallgrass said, “The sphere? The two hundred meter hollow ice sphere we saw during our circumnavigation?”

“Yes,” said Archie. “Normally we travel in one of those with a light sail, but since we were coming with the Prime, we decided to live inside it.” He spread his arms. “As you can see, we’ve made ourselves at home.”

Still suspicious, Pilgrim One said, “So you do control it. Why pretend you don’t?”

“‘Control’ might be a bit strong,” said Archie. “It’s more like we get along with it. Like it tolerates us. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Now that you’re all here I can tell you the whole story. You have made it all the way out here, and you’ve shown that you’re ready to learn the truth.”

“The truth?” snorted Pilgrim One. “How are we supposed to know it’s the truth? You could be the same people who destroyed us before, and now you’re hiding behind your vessel, blaming it for everything. You hide up here, disguising your ship with rocks and rubble, and wait for us to lift ourselves out of the destruction you rained down upon us. What now? Do you plan to taunt us for a while, and then destroy us again? Or maybe this time you plan to enslave us.” He crossed his arms, breathing hard.

Archie spoke softly. “That is a very elaborate conjecture,” he said. “Not surprising, given what has happened to you, and how little you really know.” He turned to lead them out of the airlock. “All we can do,” he said, “is give you the facts as we know them, and trust your good sense.” He moved out into the hallway. “Come,” he said. “There are some people I want you to meet. They can help me tell the story.” He chuckled. “You’re right,” he said. “Even though there weren’t nearly enough rocks to hide the Prime, we were trying to disguise its outline. We wanted you to discover us out here, but we didn’t want it to be too easy.”

The Grasswindians followed him out and, with the alternative being left behind, the Sunwardians followed suit. “Why?” called Pilgrim One, hustling to catch up. “Why all the subterfuge? If you have nothing to hide, why not just show yourselves?”

“We considered that,” said Archie, flying backward so he could talk to them, “but we decided against it. We thought that it would be better if you discovered us for yourselves.”

“But think of the time we could have saved. If what you say is true, then we have spent valuable time in unnecessary ignorance. You could have avoided that by simply revealing yourselves.”

“Yes. We did think of that. Ultimately, we decided not to risk it before you were ready. We decided to let you demonstrate your readiness by finding us yourselves.”

“You decided. You sat up here on your high throne and decided what was best for us. Or maybe best for you.”

“That’s right,” said Archie. “We decided. Either way it would have been our decision, and this is the one we chose. Was it the right one?” He shrugged. “We might never know.”

Pilgrim One took a deep breath to reply, but Supervisor Steel said, “Let’s leave that for the philosophers. There would have been questions no matter which one they chose.”

Archie was noticing again how laborious it was for his guests to walk all that way with their unaccustomed stick and peel gait, and no help from gravity. Last time he was able to tow them, but there had only been three of them then. Now there were seven, and even without the distrust and discomfort among them, it would have been unwieldy. He was trying to figure out what to do when Scarface came along.

He stopped the little eight-limbed robot and explained his plan to the group. Minutes later Scarface was walking back toward the Square towing a large entourage. Archie had put Pilgrim One at the front of the line to assuage any feelings that might be wounded otherwise. Then it was hand on hoof all the way back. Supervisor Steel was the first Grasswindian in the line for diplomatic reasons, and Tallgrass brought up the rear so Blunt would have less reason to complain.

They streamed into the Square that way, to the delight and amusement of the people there. Archie asked Steel to lead the newcomers over to the window, while he went to talk to someone. Then he joined the group, finding Steel introducing the Sunwardians to the people he’d met earlier.

Fran, with the golden eyes and golden-brown fur, said, “Hello, Archie. We’ve met your new friends. I’m glad to see the rescue was successful. It has been an interesting couple of days for you.”

Archie laughed. “It certainly has,” he said. “But more importantly, the time has finally come. The whole reason we came here so long ago. At last we can do what we came to do.”

All seven of his guests were intensely interested, the Grasswindians with curiosity, and the Sunwardians with suspicion. Archie wanted to savor the moment, but he knew he didn’t have the time. The apparently endemic paranoia of the three Pilgrims wouldn’t allow it. He decided to start right away.

“It’s story time,” he said. “This is the whole reason we came to your star. To your planets,” he told the seven. “It’s why we brought the Prime here, and why we gave you hints of our presence.”

“Hints?” said Tallgrass. Then, “The gliders! You dropped the gliders to stimulate our curiosity.”

“That’s right,” said Archie. “The data gathering was secondary. It was still important, but presenting you with a nice mystery was our main goal.”

“Well, it certainly worked,” said Tallgrass.

“That’s all it was?” said Pilgrim One in a small voice.

“Yes,” said Archie apologetically. “We know they have become an important part of your theology, and we’re sorry. That was not our intention.”

“Does that make it all a lie?”

“No,” said Archie. “Not necessarily. The rest of your beliefs might be perfectly reasonable.”

“But the Heavenly Messengers are the foundation of our doctrine. Their appearance and their perfection are signs of their divinity.”

“Well, they are made of quite an advanced alloy. They have to be, given what they have to go through.” Archie paused, face worried. “I do hope you’ll be able to incorporate this new information into your worldview.”

Pilgrim One’s face showed despair and fear. It was plain to the Grasswindians, and even Archie could see it. The other two Sunwardians took the cue from their leader and soon their faces were full of fear, too. Pilgrim One said, “I have to tell them. My superiors. The Most High Servant.” He stared off at some private ordeal. “If we go back, we have to tell them.”

“Can it really be that bad?” asked Archie. “Surely the truth …”

“The truth.” Pilgrim One snorted. “The truth is what the holy books say it is. What the holy men have revealed.” He looked at them all. At his crew. The Grasswindians. The people in the magical window. And finally at Archie. “You’re right. We will be able to incorporate this into our worldview. But I don’t think you will recognize it when we do.”

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

The Sunwardians on the Hooves of the Prophet get introduced to the Prime. They don’t seem to much like it.

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rjb

Chapter Fifty-One – Pilgrim One

While they waited they caught up on some chores, including reporting to Mission Control.

“It’s good to hear your voice again, Specialist Wayfarer. We were beginning to wonder.”

“Sorry,” said Wayfarer. “There’s been a lot going on.”

“Do tell.”

So she did. The last report had been just after the circumnavigation, when there hadn’t been much to tell other than how big everything was. Since then they’d gone inside, met an alien, been introduced to his friends back home and talked to the Sunward vessel, which was currently being rescued.

Mission Control had a lot of questions. What were the aliens like? What was the big vessel like inside? What was it and what was it doing there? Did it pose a danger to Grasswind? How did the aliens communicate instantaneously across light years? Why did they shoot Blunt? How was he doing? Are the aliens antagonists? What were the Sunwardians like? What was their vessel like? Were the aliens really rescuing them? Why?

Wayfarer did her best, but a lot of the questions didn’t have any answers yet, and the ones that did had answers that were big, complicated and incomplete. With help from Steel and Tallgrass she was able to bring Mission Control up to date, and to reassure them on most points. The aliens seemed quite nice. They lived on comets since the Visitor destroyed their world. This vessel, the Prime, appeared to have been the Visitor’s cargo vessel. No, it doesn’t appear to pose any danger. Yes, it shot Blunt, but we were warned not to use our weapons. No, we don’t know how the window works, but we’re sure they will tell us eventually. No, we don’t think it’s a trick. The Sunwardians? They seem okay, if a little suspicious. Okay, paranoid. Their vessel is a prototype. That’s why it broke down. Yes, Archie arranged a rescue right away.

There were a lot of questions and it took a long time with a six second delay at every back and forth. At last Mission Control said, “We’d better let you go so you can recharge your batteries.”

“No problem there,” said Wayfarer. “We’re hooked into the Prime’s grid, so we’ve got all the electricity we need, and the batteries are fully charged. They’re also replenishing all of our consumables. We’ll have all the fuel and oxygen and water we need for the return trip.”

“What? No food?”

“The food goes without saying. You should try the iceberry muffins. Fortunately the chirality of the amino acids is the same as ours. Archie says it’s because our stars formed out of the same molecular cloud.” Wayfarer paused, then said, “Tallgrass wants you to tell his mom that.”

“Will do. She gets everything anyway.”

“Thanks,” said Wayfarer, grinning at Tallgrass. “We’d better go. They’re about to put Hooves of the Prophet into its airlock, and we think it’s best if we’re there to greet them.”

“Understood. We’ll be standing by for updates. Mission Control out.”

The Hooves of the Prophet rested on the center of the floor of a fifteen meter cube, just as the Emissary did. Like the Emissary, it rested on a patch of setae, which held it in place. After the room was pressurized, the hatch opened and two pressure-suited figures floated out and explored the room. Like the Emissary’s airlock, the only thing of interest in this one was the five meter high door.

The two figures were hovering by their vessel watching the door when it began to slowly open. They both put their hands on the weapons they wore. As the crew of the Emissary had earlier, they had to lower their eyes to look at the person entering the room.

It was a small quadruped whose scales gleamed softly in the light. It walked on the floor with a peculiar sticking and peeling gait. In addition to its four legs it had two arms, and it was carrying a large sack in one hand. It stopped just inside the doorway, which remained open behind it, and put down the sack. Facing them, obviously unarmed, it spoke and said, “Greetings Sunwardians. Welcome to the Prime. My name is Supervisor Steel.” He glanced at their hands. “Are those weapons?”

The Sunwardians looked down, then one of them spoke. “Yes,” he said, “of course they are. It was my decision that the situation was uncertain and arming ourselves would be prudent.”

Steel nodded. “It’s all right,” he said. “I did the same thing. They don’t mind if you wear your weapons. Just, please, don’t try to use them.”

The Sunwardian’s stance got more aggressive. “I will decide if we use them or not,” he said.

Steel noted how threatening they looked in their pressure suits. Bigger, with an anonymous uniformity. He thought about how four of them must have looked to the little alien, Archie, and he was impressed again. He said, “That is your decision, of course. I must emphasize again, though, that you do not use them, for your own safety.” They said nothing, but they moved their hands away. “Very good,” said Steel. “Now, let’s complete the introductions, if you please.”

The one who had been speaking said, “I am Pilgrim One, and this is Pilgrim Two.”

“Nice to meet you Pilgrim One, Pilgrim Two. Do you have real names as well? I assume those are your designations for the mission.”

“Those are are real names,” said Pilgrim One.

“Very well,” said Steel. “Now, I suggest you remove those suits. It’s safe and you’ll be much more comfortable.” When they looked at each other but did nothing, he said, “It will also conserve your resources. You can’t wear them forever.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” said Pilgrim One, beginning to remove his suit. “We’re already dead. We were dead when our engine failed. When our mission failed. There’s no point in prolonging it.”

As they helped each other out of their suits, Steel reached into his sack and pulled out three sets of booties and stuck them to the floor. When they were done he picked up two sets and walked forward. He held up a foot to show them his bootie, then demonstrated the peculiar walking technique while they put theirs on. While they were practising he said, “There’s one more set for your crewmate. Pilgrim Three, I presume?”

Their hands went to their thighs, where they had strapped their pistols after removing their suits. “Who told you we have a third crew member?” demanded Pilgrim One.

“No one,” said Steel. “It just stands to reason. You wouldn’t undertake such a long mission with just two. That wouldn’t be enough. And I don’t think Hooves of the Prophet would support four. That leaves three. Also you’re hyper-vigilant and a little paranoid. Holding one back would be a reasonable precaution.”

Pilgrim Two took offense, but Pilgrim One nodded and took his hand off his weapon. He turned to his vessel and called, “Number Three, take off your suit and come out here.” He looked at Steel and almost smiled. He said, “You understand the demands of command, don’t you?”

“Yes,” said Steel, smiling back. “I understand protecting your crew and your mission.”

As Pilgrim Two looked on suspiciously, Pilgrim One nodded, sharing the moment with his peer, the only one who could fully understand. Then he said, “We have no mission. Hooves of the Prophet is no longer serviceable. We are never going home.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to write off your mission,” said Steel. “Archie tells me he thinks they can fix your vessel. They should even be able to make a few improvements to make it safer. Things you probably would have done anyway if you weren’t in such a hurry.”

“Archie?”

“Our host. The one who met us in the other airlock. You know, if you don’t want to risk it, they could attach your vessel to one of theirs and carry you there much quicker. You could even ride inside their vessel if you wanted.”

“We’ll think about it. We’ll talk it over with Mission Guidance. In the meantime, when can we meet this Archie? I would like to convey greetings from the Most High Servant of Sunward.”

“Of course,” said Steel. “You’ll meet him. But first I’d like to introduce you to the rest of my crew, beginning with Mission Specialist Blunt. He will show you why you don’t want to draw your weapons.”

“I find it hard to accept that you would allow them to injure your crewman, and do nothing about it.”

The introductions were made and Pilgrim One was having a private talk with Supervisor Steel, while the rest of the two crews were getting to know each other. The two from Hooves of the Prophet were both staring at Wayfarer, who was beginning to look uncomfortable.

“And that,” said Pilgrim One, pointing at them. “A woman on a mission like this.”

Steel smiled and said, “Mission Specialist Wayfarer is a valuable member of my crew.”

“Doing what? Is she there to service your needs?”

Steel’s smile vanished and his brow grew heavy, descending over narrowed eyes. “No,” he said quietly. “Why? Is that what your women are to you?”

“No!” said Pilgrim One, shocked and offended. “Our women are revered. They are sacred vessels of God’s gift of life.” He drew himself up in haughty superiority.

Steel’s throat filled with a jumble of angry responses, but he swallowed them and said, “Our women are our equals, and their bodies serve them, not us. Specialist Wayfarer is good at what she does, and I’d gladly have a whole crew just like her.”

Pilgrim One smirked. “What would you have done if they had shot her instead of Blunt?” he asked.

“They wouldn’t have shot her because she wouldn’t have drawn her weapon.”

“But if she had? Then what? I don’t think you would have just stood by then, would you?”

Steel sighed. He said, “That kind of speculation leads nowhere. The fact is, Blunt lost discipline and paid the price. And we had been warned.”

“So you let them get away with it. Sacrificed one of your crew to prudence, or worse.”

Steel spoke through stiff lips. “I will be answering for my decision when we get back to Grasswind. I am required to explain myself to them. I am not required to explain myself to you.” He glared at the Sunwardian. “Yes, they injured Blunt, but they could have just as easily killed him. They could have killed all of us, but they didn’t. If you think you can do better, then be my guest. Order one of your crew to shoot Archie when he comes.”

Pilgrim One’s eyes flickered, but he maintained the rest of his haughty demeanor. “I will decide what orders I give, not you,” he said.

“Of course,” said Steel, “and I will decide mine.”

Pilgrim One looked as if he wanted to say more, but he closed his mouth and looked away. He said, “So, where is your alien? Why doesn’t he show himself?”

“He’ll be here shortly,” said Steel. “We thought it would be best if we met you first, to give you time to prepare. To be honest, the weapons on your ship worried me. I wanted to assure myself that you wouldn’t do anything rash.”

With a pitying look, Pilgrim One said, “Too delicate for the harsh realities of life, eh Steel? Well, stand aside then. I’ll show you how to deal with these aliens.”

At that moment there was a movement in the doorway, caught by the prey eyes of them all, and they turned to watch Archie enter. The Sunwardians put their hands on their pistols, and Steel got his crew to separate themselves from them, just in case.

Archie flew in about two meters off the floor. Just inside the doorway he sculled with his wings and put his feet down. Folding his wings, he said, “Welcome to the Prime. My name is Archie. Those are weapons, aren’t they?”

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

They meet the people of Green Comet. The vessel from Sunward approaches, and things get tense.

Please join in the conversation. If you like this, let someone know so they can enjoy it, too.

rjb

Chapter Fifty – Hooves of the Prophet

“Tallgrass, this is Frances,” said Archie. “She and a few of her friends saved Green Comet from annihilation when the Visitor was destroying our world. Later, after they discovered the Prime, we all went on a mission together to the world of the Makers, the ones who built the Visitor and sent it out to explore. I’ll let Frances introduce her companions.”

“My goodness,” said the golden-eyed Frances. “It all sounds so grand, doesn’t it?” She took her hand off the window and indicated the person next to her, slightly behind her left shoulder, looking at Tallgrass with penetrating eyes. “Tallgrass of Sage, this is my best friend and lifelong companion, Elgin, without whom saving Green Comet would have been impossible, and in some ways pointless.” The man nodded, and Frances went on to introduce the rest of her friends, four more males and two more females.

Tallgrass noticed that his hand was still on the window, so he took it off to introduce his crewmates. “And one more,” he said, “who’s not here. He was shot and injured by the Prime.”

“We heard about that,” said Frances. “It’s not the first time, either. The Prime simply does not like weapons.”

“Maybe you could tell us about the other times,” said Tallgrass. “And about the Prime. And the Visitor you mentioned. I get the feeling that they have something to do with our legends of destruction falling on us from the sky.”

“They do,” said Archie, “but for now we have something more immediate to consider.” He did something that caused another view to pop up in the window to the right of the people on the other side. It must have appeared on their side too, because they all looked to their left. It was a patch of starry blackness with what looked like a piece of machinery in it. Archie said, “This is the Sunwardian vessel. It’s getting close and should arrive in about six hours.”

They all stared at it and Supervisor Steel said, “They flew out here in that?” His skin rippled. “It looks like a prototype.”

“Yes,” said Archie. “We think they rushed things to try to beat you here.”

Fran’s friend Elgin said, “Are those weapons on the outside of it?”

“They might be,” said Archie.

“I’m sure they are,” said Steel.

Archie shook his head. “If they try to use those and the Prime reacts …”

“It will damage their vessel, won’t it?” said Steel.

“It will breach its structural integrity,” said Archie.

They were all quiet, thinking, when the alien Frances said, “If they do use their weapons, then they’d better be in their pressure suits.”

“Right,” said Steel. “I’ve got to get back to the Emissary to warn them.” He pulled away from the window, then stopped. “It’s been an honor to meet you,” he said to Frances and her friends. “I hope we can talk again, but for now I must do this.” He nodded and turned again to leave. Tallgrass and Wayfarer said hasty goodbyes and went after him, followed by Archie.

As they labored up the hallway, which they now noticed had a slight slope of a degree or two, Archie said, “Let’s try something,” and he held out a foot for Steel to hold. Then, with the little alien flapping in front, towing a chain of three Grasswindians, they made their way back to the airlock.

“Sunwardian vessel, this is Supervisor Steel of the Grasswindian vessel Emissary, over.” Steel said to Archie, “Are you sure this is getting out?”

“Yes, certainly,” said Archie. “There is a dumb relay outside that re-broadcasts your signal at the same power and frequency.”

Steel nodded and keyed the microphone. “Sunwardian vessel, this is the Emissary, over.” He clipped the microphone to the panel and said, “Maybe they changed frequencies.”

“That doesn’t seem likely,” said Wayfarer.

“No,” said Steel, “it doesn’t.” He was pushing himself away from the console when the speaker popped and emitted the hum of a carrier wave.

“Grasswindian vessel Emissary, this is Sunwardian vessel Hooves of the Prophet, over.” The voice spoke impeccable Grasswindian, but with a definite accent.

“Hooves of the Prophet?” said Tallgrass.

“Quite an accent,” said Wayfarer.

“Never mind,” said Steel. “At least they’re talking to us.” He said to Archie, “They have a different language, don’t they?”

“Yes,” said Archie. “Like you, they have a global language, but it has diverged considerably from yours over the millennia.”

“Your translator works for their language too, right?” At Archie’s nod he asked, “Will it translate directly from theirs to ours?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“Thank you,” said Steel, picking up the microphone. “Hooves of the Prophet, this is Emissary. Greetings. It is good to hear your voice. I trust you had a good voyage.”

“Yes, thank you,” came the heavily accented voice. “And you?”

“It was good,” said Steel. “I want to thank you for learning our language. That was thoughtful. Over.”

“You were filling the heavens with it, so it wasn’t difficult, over.”

“Right,” said Steel. “I still appreciate the effort. Be advised, though, that you can speak in your own language. We have a translator.”

“A translator? How have you done that? Did you capture a Sunwardian? Or perhaps you have been spying on us.”

“No of course not,” said Steel. “It’s a translating machine. It belongs to the people living on the Prime.”

“The Prime? This is what you call the Ark of God? Why have you put people on the Ark of God?”

“No, no,” said Steel. “We haven’t put people on the, uh, Prime. We found them here when we got here, and they call it the Prime. And they’re the ones who have the translator, and it can translate your language directly to ours.”

After a pause, the reply came. “Do you mean there are people who have been living on the Ark all this time? Are they the ones who spied on us?”

“No. No. They are not Grasswindian. They are from another star. And they’ve been studying us. Gathering information. Not spying.”

“That is a fine distinction between gathering information and spying, isn’t it? Do you speak for these aliens?”

“You can speak to them yourselves any time. I wanted to speak to you first to prepare you, and also to warn you about your weapons. We thought it might be better coming from someone more familiar.”

“Weapons? How do you know we have weapons?”

“We can see them.”

“How? We can’t see you at all.”

“No, of course. We’re inside the Prime.”

“Inside the Ark? Have they captured you? Are you prisoners? Is this why you lie for them?”

“I’m not lying!” snapped Steel, losing patience. He gathered himself and said, “I just wanted to warn you about your weapons. It’s all right that you have them. They don’t mind that. Just don’t use them. The Prime apparently doesn’t like weapons.”

“Which is it, the Ark or the aliens? Either way, we will use our weapons if we see fit.”

“Okay. That’s your choice. But make sure to put on your pressure suits first. We’re told that when the Prime destroys your weapons, it won’t be able to avoid breaching your hull.”

That resulted in a long silence. When the Sunwardian spoke again, it was in his own language. “Very well. We will keep that in mind. Meanwhile, we will be passing your location in three hours. Tell your alien friends not to try anything.” The translation was perfect, and it came directly out of Emissary’s speaker.

Steel cocked an eyebrow at Archie, and Archie shrugged. While Tallgrass was marveling that it was possible for both of them to understand each other’s gestures, Archie said, “It seemed least complicated to use your own speaker for the translation.”

Steel shrugged and lifted the microphone. “Hooves of the Prophet,” he said, “do I understand correctly that you are not going to stop here?”

There was another long pause, then, “We cannot stop. Our engine failed not long before you called us. God, in his wisdom, has deemed it fitting.”

Steel couldn’t think of what to say. He looked at the others. Archie was looking away and speaking in a low voice, Wayfarer was looking at her supervisor, and Tallgrass went to his console. Finally Steel keyed his mic and said, “Hooves of the Prophet, please confirm you have engine failure and have lost control of your vessel.”

“That is affirmative,” they replied. “This was not unexpected. We had to hasten our departure and use this prototype to ensure we would arrive before you. It is God’s will.”

“How can …” began Steel, but stopped because he intuitively guessed that it wouldn’t do any good to point out the logical inconsistency.

Tallgrass looked over and said, “They will miss us because they needed a few more hours of thrust to match our velocity.”

“Understood,” said Steel. “Will they swing back toward Sunward? Maybe close enough to get rescued?”

“Yes, but it will take years.”

“So, they’ll be dead. Can we intercept them and take them aboard Emissary?”

“Theoretically, but by the time we did it would be too late. And we wouldn’t be able to get home.”

“Of course,” said Steel. “We wouldn’t have the fuel, would we?” He squeezed the microphone, frowning deeply.

Tallgrass went back to his calculations, just in case. Wayfarer went to her console to try some ideas of her own. Steel raised the mic to his mouth and said, “Hooves of the Prophet, stand by while we try to figure this out. Don’t give up.”

“We do not give up,” they said. “We do God’s work without question, and surrender our will to his. We give our small lives now in the certain knowledge of eternity at his side later.”

“Okay,” said Steel, “but it’s not a certainty yet. We’re still working on it.”

“You won’t find anything. We’ve been working on it and I can assure you that we’ve missed nothing.”

“Understood,” said Steel, “but we’re not giving up yet.”

After a short pause they said, “Acknowledged. Your efforts are futile, but we appreciate the gesture. Hooves of the Prophet, out.”

Steel replaced the microphone and said, “Well? Anything?”

Wayfarer shook her head and Tallgrass said, “There’s just no way. With the velocities, the fuel available and the time constraints, they’re right. There’s no way.”

Steel pounded his thigh, glowering. “I can’t accept that. Not while there’s still time.”

They were standing in descending gloom when Archie said, “We might be able to do this.” When they turned to him he said, “I’ve alerted my people and they’re preparing to launch a couple of scouts.”

“Scouts?” said Steel.

“Those vessels on top of the Prime, right?” said Tallgrass.

“Right,” said Archie. “The scouts are the small ones. Only thirty meters. We don’t want to alarm them.”

“But what can they do?” asked Tallgrass. “I assume they can catch it, but then what?”

“They’re planning on stringing some webbing between the scouts and catching it. Then they can haul it back here and put it in an airlock.”

“Oh, is that all?” said Steel.

They recognized Archie’s response as a laugh. “Yes,” he said. “It’s going to take skill and patience and timing. They’ll have to match its velocity precisely to minimize damage. There are a lot of things they’ll have to get right, but they think they can do it.”

They did. There were two heavy distant clunks as the scouts separated from the Prime, and then it took most of a day. There were a few tense moments, but in the end they had three of the little aliens out there in their pressure suits, guiding Hooves of the Prophet into an airlock of similar dimensions adjacent to the one the Emissary was in. Other than a bent antenna, the little vessel was virtually undamaged.