I awoke on my couch. The light was dim. I sat up and looked around. Ava and Odum were curled up together sleeping in front of the couch. I recalled the long happy talk we had. Then, I had recounted my ordeal to the shock of my diminutive friends. Odum could not keep his mouth from falling open. At one point, he placed his hands over his eyes and would not look up. Ava seemed overly concerned and had sought to place pillows behind me in a motherly fashion. She took the sandals from my feet. I changed the topic and listened to the latest news. Election of Thusa’s successor was underway and the new settlement had proposed giving names to the old and new. A contest would soon pick names submitted by the elders. 

I slipped quietly into my sandals and stepped past my sleeping friends to stand before the console of my communication node. There was a notice awaiting my attention. It was quiet in my quarters. There was a sense of well-being that I did not wish to disturb. I would answer the notice at another time, I thought. I would let the sleepers sleep. 

Just then, the door alarm startled all of us. Ava bolted up and scooted back against my couch while Odum jumped to his feet. They had never heard a door alarm. I turned to calm them then, I faced the door and opened it manually. Rigil stepped in quickly and wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him as fervently. After a moment, he held me at arm’s length and gave me a visual inspection. I could have complained. I could have told him to stop. I was not embarrassed in the least. He was just being Rigil. Then he noticed my guests and a slightly elevated brow was all the question I needed to hear. I turned to them; they had been standing still and quiet, trying not to be noticed.

I said to Rigil, “They were here to meet me when I returned. We were in dark mode so we spoke. I had missed them. Then, we fell asleep.”

I turned to Ava and said, “I will come to camp later.”

They scampered through the door. I peeked into the lounge in time to see Barachiel shake his head as they ran past. I sealed the door and sat on the couch. Rigil sat beside me. It was really good to have him with me. I noticed that he wore his guild uniform. As he seemed at a momentary loss of words, I smiled and spoke.

“I am happy you came to see me,” I said.

He lowered his face as if guilty and answered, “I tried to see you earlier. Captain Taush did not permit it.”

“All is well, friend,” I said, “I am grateful you are here now.”

“I was beside myself,” he said. “To think! Such a wicked creature!”

“The Captain hasn’t given me much information,” I complained. “Do you have any news?”

“R1R is the pilot who attacked you,” I was told. “The Captain used a gas cylinder to hit him from behind. He was a cycle eight and I understand a certain bone in the back of his head was crushed when the Captain struck him. Siri was arrested but not before she tossed around the Captain’s best warriors. A cycle eight rushed in to help and took serious damage. Guards now patrol the Lean with all of her kind under house arrest.”

I commented, “That must be a sizable undertaking.”

Rigil answered, “There are not only the Captain’s warriors but Archangels and Titans as well. Now,” he said, changing the subject, “it is your turn. What is the Captain not telling me?” 

I took a breath and considered how I might word the news to my friend. Then I just said it. “I nearly died.”

Rigil’s mouth fell open, worked against words he could not utter. He pressed his hands over his mouth and closed his eyes. After a moment, when he had regained his composure, he said, “I cannot imagine. It must have been horrible.”

“In the end,” I said, “I was more concerned for the Captain.”

“Yes,” my friend said with a wise nod, “that sounds like you.”

I added, “I’d never seen his hair so out of place.”

We laughed. We spent a turn or so in happy conversation. I showed him my scars and then asked him to tell me the truth about Siri and himself. Shamefaced, he confessed he had gotten drunk with her. Drunk for an atomic is quite different than inebriation for moleculars. He had used a drum lock while Siri imbibed an Alhii liquor. A drum lock was a calibration device for atomic equipment. Set at a minimal level, it excited the neural matrix and produced a type of euphoric stupor. When Rigil later came to his senses, he discovered that they were promised to each other. I could not help but laugh.

After Rigil left, I set an appointment to speak with my father’s tree techs and stepped out into the lounge. Khamuel and Barachiel were both standing waiting to go with me wherever I designed to go. I wondered how they knew I would step from my quarters at that precise moment. I looked at them and they looked back, calm and in command. Times were new for me, son of the king and survivor of an assassination attempt. Doubtless, I thought, I would be stumbling over those two for the foreseeable future. I would have to make the best of it. My recognition of the wisdom in the Captain’s call was, nonetheless, grudging.

“Barachiel, Khamuel,” I acknowledged with a respectful nod, “please bear with me.”

Khamuel answered, “We serve the heir.”

His tone was ambiguous and I did not know just how to place it but I led them down the metallic corridor with gently pulsing lights. We stepped into the ark just as Ava entered through the ranch corridor. She led three males who pushed an aged iron cart loaded with blood canisters. She made clicking noises and pointed them down another corridor.

She said, “You finish. I help Jeez.”

“Very well,” I said. “We will verify the temperatures of the ranch embryos.”

Ava quickly brought me a portable node and placed it in my hand with a broad smile on her face. Her round eyes seemed energetic. I saw my guards were watching the two of us and that seemed to turn the sweetness of a sweet creature into something untoward. I tapped the node on and flicked the screen to match the numbered stasis chambers. Holding the node forward, I allowed the back-facing imager time to record the individual temperatures. When they matched, I motioned for Ava to activate the following bank.

As the second bank cycled into position, Ava asked, “Jees have busy rotation?”

I looked past her and saw that my two guards were walking about, idly inspecting the ark while they waited. I smiled down at Ava and answered, “Actually, yes. I thought I might take some time to speak with the techs who are in charge of father’s tree.”

She touched the wall pad and the second bank was replaced by the third. With an eager face and hopeful eyes, she offered, “Ava go with Jeez. I will be good helper for Jeez. Ava make rotation easy.”

The banks reset back to the first. I tapped off the node and returned it to Ava. As she placed it in the wall dock, I took a moment to consider. Ava was not only smart, but she was also conscientious. My hope for her people was full integration into the fleet. As it stood, the Kee were stuck in a place apart. They were helpers here and helpers there but as a society of many races, the armada had yet to accept them. That needed to change.

“Sure,” I said. “You can be my minister of Kee relations.” Then I asked, “Have the Kee made their choice yet?”

“Lamet,” she answered brightly. 

I said, pressing between my two guards to check G-level on the coff display, “I think we should speak with him before you and I go to the Ravana.”

Khamuel and Barachiel seemed noticeably on edge as we walked into the camp. I was unsure what to make of it. Perhaps it was the fact that children crowded in to see and touch them. Perhaps they were unaccustomed to animals running freely around their heels. I considered it a matter of their training and turned my heart into the crowding children who ran to hold my hands. Many more Kee than I felt comfortable with stopped to spread their arms and bow their heads. We came to the longhouse and Lamet stepped from a knot of older Kee to shoo the children away. The elders sat on benches in the shade of the eaves and logs were pulled up for us to sit on. Ava sat beside me while my guards chose to stand.

Lamet, I had to admit, looked more like his father than Samsa. He held Thusa’s walking stick in his hand and used it to bring our meeting to order. When he lowered the stick, there was silence. There was a dark patch in his mane that set him apart from Samsa whose hair was more evenly gray. Lamet sat straight, both hands gripping the cane his father had leaned on in his life. His manner stemmed from a calm inner strength. The Kee had turned to Lamet to solve problems, and he always delivered. I was delighted to see they had chosen him and was satisfied when he spoke.

“The Kee are strong,” he said. “We are one,” he said. “I guide all Kee in place of Thusa. Will of Kee is good, we stand with Jeez and fleet, work hard. Jeez bring us good word?”

I felt I was suddenly put on the spot. I had expected Lamet to say more but I did have good news. I said, “Indeed, Lamet. The word I bring is very good. I have secured a home ship for the Kee. I have inspected it and found it worthy of the Kee people. It is being fitted as we speak, and I am sure it will be soon that you may begin to move in.”

The elders gasped and spoke among themselves. Samsa looked to Lamet and both nodded approval. I continued, “Of course, as many as choose to may continue to live on the Seed Ship.”

Lamet raised the stick for attention and spoke into the silence. “We will speak long on this.”

He left room for me to speak so I asked, “Have you named the camp, then?”

“Yes, Jeez,” answered Lamet. “Wisdom of elders say camp be Thusa, new camp be Hope, ranch be Ranch.”

“I bow to the wisdom of the elders,” was my reply. “Anything you need, you may be assured of my help.”

“Jeez true friend,” said Lamet to the agreement of the elders.

A turn or so later, Ava, my guards, and I were on a shuttle to the Ravana. Bollate, dependable as always, ferried us to the home ship of the Oliphareans. Barachiel and Khamuel, seeming somewhat bored, sat across from myself and Ava without speaking. I had no idea what they had sacrificed to walk in my shadow. Barachiel seemed strong and forceful and I imagined him in combat. Khamuel seemed self-assured, I pictured him as being of rank. I looked again at the pin on his lapel and thought to draw them out in conversation.

“Barachiel,” I asked, gaining his attention, “may I ask what kind of man you think yourself to be?”

“Odd,” answered he, “not me, the question. I am your assigned guardian.”

I replied, “I just want to hear how you would recommend yourself.”

He seemed at a loss. He thought about my request with his head tilted bemusedly before he spoke. “I am an Archangel of the Guardian Class, level two.”

When he paused, I asked, “Is level two good?”

“Close to the top,” he said proudly. “Close enough to put me in the Order of the Rose.”

“I congratulate you,” I commented.

“I received my staff and a black cloak with white rose emblem,” said he.

“That sounds important. Are you comfortable being assigned such a dull post,” I asked?

Barachiel sat up straight and answered, “Actually, I volunteered.”

I was confused why he had chosen to spend his time with me. I thought, surely, there were better pursuits for a warrior. I imagined a warrior’s interests would be military, that he would want to be with his kind, his classmates. I thought he would be inclined toward his training. Was his nature solitary, I wondered? I looked at Khamuel, who seemed wholly uninterested in the conversation. I turned back to Barachiel. There was no expression on his face, but he seemed earnest and sincere.

“Why,” I asked?

“I seek only to serve,” said he.

I turned to Khamuel and prompted, “And you, Khamuel?”

He said casually, as if reciting a common answer, “I am a Cephirot Commander of the Order of the Cup.” He touched his pin and continued, “This places me three orders above the Rose. I specialize in tactics and strategy planning.”

I asked, “Did you also volunteer?”

“I accepted the assignment,” said he, “to earn my next rank.”

“Oh,” I said and asked, “What rank is that?”

“I will be,” he said, “a Captain in the Order of the Flaming Sword.”

I said, “I confess to know nothing of military matters but I feel impressed nonetheless. How long must you watch over me to reach your goal?”

He looked away and spoke distantly. “My superiors would not say.” When he turned back to me, he queried, “May I ask you a question?”

I responded, “Yes, please.”

“Why are we on a shuttle,” he asked? “We could have used a tree.”

With a broadening smile, I called to the pilot. “Bollate.”

“Yes, heir.”

“Please give us the full view,” I requested.

A moment later, the displays in the walls, in the ceiling and floor, lit our dimmed cabin with the reflected light from the ships around us. Our ship fell away to expose the approach of the Ravana. Near it were the twelve large ships used for Atomic Progression. Beyond the transit of a single shuttle between ships, insignificant in size, was the vast black vault of the universe, the faded distant ribbons of gas and dust. I had meant to impress my guards with the beauty around us in answer to Khamuel’s question but I had not considered Ava’s inexperience in shuttle travel. She squealed loudly, startling all of us. She put her feet on the seat and backed into me. It took great effort on my part to calm her.

When I assured her the floors were still there, she cautiously reached down with her bare feet to touch the floor. She relaxed. Then, we turned our attention to the Ravana. The sweeping lights exposed a structure on the order of a vast temple rising up in towers and tiers. Sculpted designs from their homeworld adorned the ship. It was impressive. Blinking lights surrounded the docking bay as Bollate turned the shuttle into the final approach. The docking vibration was minimal and Bollate promised to return upon our request. Barachiel led our small party into the docking hub while Ava followed timidly and closely behind me.

There was noise. There was a sort of lethargic energy about the hub. The overhead lights shone brightly and Ava gawked at elephantine creatures that lumbered between the transport trees and the exit beyond the screening stations. My guards, having assessed the situation, carried us through the screening, down long brightly painted halls, and into a large central lounge. It was quite unlike the lounge areas of other ships. Gaudy reliefs adorned supporting pillars and colorful wall paintings assailed the eyes with fantastic scenes. I seated myself in a booth beneath one such fantastic mural and waved away the floating lights. Barachiel took a seat in a booth to my right and Khamuel to my left. I sat at the edge of the seating while Ava stood and turned absorbing the strange sights with unblinking brown eyes.