A way, indeed, was open, but it would not be easy. The Esthos being layered, our progress through a maze of shifting storm columns would be complicated by the occasional but precise maneuvering of all ships into parallel folds. That meant that if a column stood in our way, we would be forced to wait it out. I recalled that the destruction of the Aljara limited the formation of a gathering storm column. I set Wiznchour the task of developing a column deterrent.

I walked into the situation room and assessed the state of affairs. My Generals were standing in conversation. Cedetra was loud, Taush was calm. Chisisi played the devil’s advocate, Eesho was thoughtfully quiet, and Karnac was argumentative. Seated on the far side of the table, I saw faces I had not seen in many revolutions. In truth, I had never expected to see them again. Bha Huda sat quietly with Crish to his right and Bermesh right of Crish.

I did not clear my throat; I made no preamble.  I simply commanded all to sit. I remained standing. The Generals remained quiet, waiting for their King to speak. I stared hard at Bha Huda until he looked down at his hands. Crish seemed defiant but he also looked away. Only Bermesh held my gaze, although, if memory serves, the eyes of Bermesh were fearful. I pulled my chair and seated myself.

“So, Bha Huda,” I said. “Why am I looking across my table at you?”

Bha Huda looked up, his blue face darkening slightly. He looked nervously at his hands, then back at me. “It is not what the appearances are showing.”

I replied, “Just give me the facts.”

“Yes. The facts,” he stammered. “We remained opposite of your course. You gave us no Anun for navigation and my techs began to quarrel. Some argued the straight course. Some argued we should turn.”

Bermesh broke in. “There was nothing before us.”

Crish elbowed Bermesh. In his silence, Bha Huda continued. “At first, it was the strike. So much discontent! Then, they gave us the full rebellion. I am sorry to say that some of the ships you gave me were destroyed.”

Bha Huda looked at Crish, who continued the tale. “We lost seven ships, some of them were our original ships. What followed was a horror. We suffered an ailment our techs could not identify. We put the sick in trees but they perished. Our numbers were greatly reduced before one of us discerned it was a matter of the settings.”

Karnac spoke. “Submit your exact numbers to the GM.”

“Yes,” said Bha Huda. “Of course.”

I asked, “Who thought to change the settings?”

Crish elbowed Bermesh. Bermesh looked down while timidly raising one hand. None of my Generals spoke. It was as if the discovery Bermesh had made stunned them into silence. I spoke.

I asked Bermesh, “How did you know to change the settings?”

Bermesh, still looking down, mumbled his answer. “I heard a voice.”

Karnac replied gruffly. “Excuse me!”

Bermesh gave his answer a second time. His voice raised, there was no mistaking his words. “I heard a voice.”

I looked to General Taush, who met my gaze with a raised brow. I stood from my chair and stepped away from the table. The news was striking. I paced with my hands clasped behind my back, remembering. It was father’s voice that warned me to save Khamuel. If father had saved the Oliphareans, they were meant to be with us. I wondered why father had chosen Bermesh. I returned to my seat and speared Bha Huda with the glance of a King.

“Continue,” I commanded.

“I was greatly vexed,” said Bha Huda. “I feared I had led my people to their doom.” He sat straight and squared his shoulders in sudden determination. “I ordered us to turn and follow our course back. I would return and beg forgiveness. I would ask to be part of the great armada.” Bha Huda hung his head. “I am ashamed,” he said.

Crish spoke. “Then we were fired on. We knew it was your brother, but we did not know why.”

Bha Huda raised his face. “The King’s code was flashing on my node. I responded without hesitancy. I feared for my people, while I was not believing my eyes. The King’s code. I only heard stories. Yet, my people perished, so I took the chance, and, aap vishvaas nahin karate, here we are.”

I sat back and allowed my Generals to argue among themselves. I sat looking into Bha Huda’s eyes, slowly tapping my fingers on the table. Bha Huda failed to hold my gaze. I listened to the consensus; ally with the Oliphareans, but at arm’s length. They had deserted the armada and could not be trusted. Eesho demanded retribution for lost ships; inclusion under heavy restrictions. I placed my hands flat on the table, stifling further disagreement.

“Generals,” I said, looking around the table. “We are diminished. At this point, we can afford to overlook an inconvenient past. Put them in formation. Make use of the techs. Wiznchour has found a way through the Esthos to the new seed world. Coordinate under his instruction.”

I stood. My Generals stood with me. The Oliphareans stood slowly, Bermesh first, then Bha Huda, and finally Crish. I shifted to my room. In my room, there was no pressure. I sat in front of my inactive node and relaxed. I closed and massaged my eyes. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. My node chimed.

General Taush looked out at me from his location with his usual stern but reflective expression. He said, “Let me know when you are ready.”

“I am ready,” I replied.

Ending the transmission, I shifted to the Tristow. I stood at the top of the steps and viewed the runway below. One of the fighters was being lowered into storage. The oblong platform disappeared into the depths of the Tristow while another fighter taxied into position. Repairs on the fighters had proceeded at a breakneck pace. I looked away from the control tower to the end of the runway. The shuttle was ready, and General Taush paced outside the ship. I shifted to the shuttle.

Taush turned and said, “I am not comfortable with you going in alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” I answered. “The Jarjatra is blind. When you hail the ship, tell them they are surrounded by armed ships.”

He did not approve the gamble; he did not condone lies. Taush replied, “Fine. Let us go, then.”

The shuttle touched the outer hull of the Jarjatra. Taush made the hail. “General Taush to the Jarjatra. You are surrounded by armed fighters. Prepare to be boarded.” He turned in his seat to face me. “I don’t like this,” he said.

“I will be careful,” I said. “If something is not right, I will shift back.”

I opened the back of the shuttle. The offending odor of the Esthos permeated the cabin. I touched the hull and looked inside the cargo ship. Just beyond the docking port, I saw a gathering of Alhiisians. The group consisted of approximately twenty Alhii facing the port. One stood apart, by the communication node. I saw crudely fashioned spears, clubs, and knives. I shifted.

I stood before the Alhiis dressed in the King’s robe, and gold belt. All eyes turned to me. Startled by my sudden appearance, all stood quietly staring in disbelief.

I announced my intent. “I would speak with your leader.”

The large Alhii by the node stepped in front of the group and faced me. “I know you,” said the Alhii.

I replied, “I am Jeez whom Siri tried to kill. I am King of the Armada.”

“I am Tojava,” said the Alhii, blinking slowly. “We are sick.”

I said, “Lay down your arms. I am prepared to release you. Agree to my terms and you will be treated.”

“We will speak,” said Tojava, gesturing to the gathered Alhii. One by one, weapons fell to the floor.

Alone with Tojava, I learned a sad tale. Without the tree, atomics reverted to moleculars. The slow change brought on painful hunger. The Alhii, cycle tens and above, without food stores, warred among themselves for food. Their prize, the slain. Cannibalism brought about greater sickness as their changing bodies were not fully prepared for the ingestion of flesh. 43S7 would definitely have his hands full.

43S7 had pulled together fifteen promising students to teach them medical arts. His classroom was the converted auditorium on board the Huim home ship, Sartare. I found 43S7 alone in the auditorium and informed him of changes. I gave him permission to appropriate bunks and install them in the auditorium. I left 43S7 to speak with the Generals about transporting the Alhii and assimilating them into the fleet. Then, I shifted home.

My rotation began and ended with the Generals; I left matters in their hands and shifted home. I strolled alone to my garden. Along the path to the falls, compound fencing was being inspected and repaired. I waved to the workers in passing and sought the peace of the falls. I sat on the bench with eyes closed and let the sound of falling water fill me.

On the following rotation, I was awakened by the soft chiming of my node. I tapped on and yawned into the face of 43S7. “Excuse me,” I said. “What is it?”

“I have treated and released the three rescued women,” said he. “Their conditions are stable and will improve. Your sister has asked to speak with you.”

“Anything else?” I asked.

“I am treating the first group of Alhii,” said 43S7. “Nothing I can’t handle, but the guards do get in the way.”

“Be patient,” I said. “We’re all just doing the best we can.”

43S7 replied, “Of course, Your Majesty.”

I went to the water closet and let the cool water revive me. I dressed in work clothes and tied the gold cord around my waist. A spur-of-the-moment decision, my choice seemed to represent both sides of me, King and Jeez. I peeked into the lounge and found it empty. I found the ark just as unpopulated, approving the silence. I removed my sandals and sat before the GUF.

Leaning my head against the cool surface of the GUF, I spoke with my eyes closed. “I never knew how hard it was for you to be a King. I’ve lost so many people. How can I call myself King?”

I heard father’s voice. “Think only of those people you can save.”

I sat back and looked into the GUF. “Father,” I said. “I need your wisdom.”

The answer came. “A King is just a man.”

I said, “This man is not up to the job.”

I had complained. I stared into the GUF and waited for comfort. I desired exact instructions; words that would lead us away from all harm and danger. My deepest desire was a peaceful and productive life, a wife, and children. The constant demands on me abraded my spirit. I guess I hoped for a balm, a salve to soothe my constant dread.

Father said, “A man is as strong as the friends he keeps by his side.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Father seemed more philosophical than helpful. I took solace in the fact that I could speak with him. I asked, “How are you, father?”

“We are filled with purpose,” he said in reply. “Soon, we will traverse the circle of time. Son, I know you seek answers. I want answers. You want me to tell you what I would do, but my answer is do what you would do. We will return, until then, face your brother with courage, comfort your sister, and redeem all who are under the heel. What can I say? Life is for the living.”

I felt his departure and was left with the sense that my need had offended him. However, his words rang in me like bells. I knew in my heart I had not seen the last of my brother. We would fight again, and that realization made me afraid for my people. Father had told me to redeem all who were under the heel. I understood what he meant. Once a soul hit bottom, there was nowhere to go but back up. I should deprive no one of that recovery.

My thoughts turned to my sister. Father had instructed me to comfort her. How could I when I didn’t even know the extent of her pain? How tragic she seemed when I brought her back! She must have suffered greatly. Did she blame me? I noted I was being defensive. It seemed I wanted to put off speaking with her. Was that my own guilt? Yet, I knew I could not avoid meeting her. How would I act? What could I say?

I shifted to the garden. I found the trees and sat before them. I looked at Odum’s double tree. Odum occupied the main chamber, Ava was in the rib. I looked back in time and saw Ava’s smile. I saw Odum’s hand raised above me in anger. I had done very badly. I sighed and looked at the other tree. Nimrod was there. I admired Nimrod, I thought of him as a friend. I looked at his armor, tucked in a neat bundle between his tree and wall.

I sat for a turn in idle thought, reminiscing. It was then that I heard footfall on the path behind me. I sensed a presence and I started from my reverie. I stood quickly and turned to see Imabelai emerging from the palms. She wore a white jumpsuit, and I saw that her short hair had been trimmed shorter to make the ends even. I had not gone to her, so she came to me. We stood a few hands apart and looked into each other’s eyes. She clasped her hands before her and spoke softly.

“May we speak?” she asked.