“I heard you were wed.” Imabelai looked away from my face as she spoke.

We walked to the falls. We sat side by side on the bench. The strangeness of sitting next to her was a deep itch I could not reach. I had loved her, and I had exiled her to a cruel fate. I could not speak at first. I lowered my head and simply nodded. Then, I turned to look at her face just when she turned back to me. Our eyes met, and we looked away like timid children.

“I could have spared you,” I said apologetically.

“No,” replied Imabelai. “You did what was right.”

I looked into her eyes and saw the sincerity of her words. I also saw the terror barely hidden behind her eyes. I could not imagine the ordeal I had put her through, but I felt that my sister had paid a high price. She was absolved through her pain. My eyes lingered until she looked away. She was still beautiful.

I cleared my throat and said, “We are survivors now, all of us. How is your health?”

“Bruises and indignities aside,” said Imabelai, “the worst part of my banishment was the reversion. I was ravenous, but when I ate, I was in torment. It was a mercy when the Alhii starved us.”

I asked, “Has our medic helped at all?”

Imabelai stood and walked to the water. With a hand indicating the pool, she turned back to me and asked, “May I?”

At my nod, Imabelai walked out into the water, waist-deep. There, she laid her body back and spread her arms. I quietly watched my sister float like a white gem in a blue setting. It was small comfort, I thought, but my heart offered it to her with great sincerity. I measured her slow breathing and held my tongue. Then, she answered.

“We recover,” she said. “The pain is not easily vanquished.”

I took a breath and stood. I walked to the water, my eyes on my sister. I said, “Commit to the fleet. Be one of us.”

She answered, “The medic has enlisted me. With your approval, I will learn to be a healer.”

“Good,” I said. “What of the women who were with you?”

“They have yet to decide,” said Imabelai.

I stooped by the pool, sifting water through my fingers. I said, “They are welcome wherever they choose to serve.”

Imabelai moved her arms, turning her body in a slow arc. Time meant nothing as my eyes followed her movement. She rolled over and disappeared beneath the surface. I saw bubbles trail toward the falls. A moment later, she pulled herself onto a rock and sat. She turned her face into the light spray. In all appearance content, Imabelai pressed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

“How did you save us?” she asked.

I shifted to the rock beside her and answered softly, “The same way I stopped your mother from killing hostages.”

Imabelai opened her eyes and turned to me. I met her gaze as she assessed my answer. She turned her face back into the spray, saying, “You are your father’s son, a powerful King.”

Khamuel appeared near the bench and called to me. “Your Majesty.”

I shifted to the bench and stood before him. “Yes,” I prompted.

Khamuel looked at Imabelai, then back to me. Standing straight, he said. “We are prepared to move. The Generals ask for your presence.”

“Tell them I will be there soon,” I said.

With a curt nod, Khamuel turned and walked away. I turned back to my sister, but the rock had been abandoned. The water churned where she had submerged. I waited for her to come up, curious how long she intended to stay under. Then, the water broke near the falls. I saw her bare back emerge. Her arm came up, the jumpsuit in her hand. Imabelai placed the jumpsuit on the rock and fell back into the cool water. Her arms spread wide, and once again, my sister drifted; the rise and fall of her breasts sent ripples away from her.

She said, “If it is no problem, I would stay here and think.”

“Sister,” I said. “You are welcome. Take the time you need.”

That said, I shifted to my apartment. I changed my clothing and dried my hair. I met the Generals in Command; Wiznchour was with them. I was saluted, then General Karnac withdrew a small card from a sleeve pocket and spoke.

“If you will follow me to Upper Command,” he said to me. He turned into the calm noise of Command and called a name. “Tekta! With me.”

A Huim arose from his station and joined the train that followed General Karnac to the lift. Command occupied the mid-level of Tristow’s Command Tower with a three hundred and sixty-degree view of the launch area below. Upper Command was a sealed room on the top tier, a room I had never seen. The lift was a broad open platform on which all of us fit comfortably. At the door to Upper Command, Karnac used his small square card to access a keyed panel. He entered a numeric code and the door slid open.

Lights and panels immediately came up, while Tekta and Wiznchour manned two stations below a large wall screen. Karnac took a seat directly behind Tekta and Wiznchour while the rest of us stood in the raised area behind a solid rail. The screen cycled images of our diminished fleet in formation. As Karnac commanded his two-man crew, General Eesho leaned close to me and spoke softly.

“The Tristow,” he said, “will lead while our remaining warships take defensive positions at the rear of the fleet.”

I nodded, and turned to General Taush, who added, “This has never been attempted.”

I answered. “I have every confidence in the navigational prowess of the Anun. Let’s trust Wiznchour.”

The screen panned forward to a view of the red Esthos. Visible in the distance were three storm columns, lightning dancing angrily between them.

Karnac said, “Take us forward.”

General Cedetra explained, “We will stop at a safe distance and deploy three of our pulse drones around the central column.”

General Chisisi added to the explanation. “The working theory is that a timed detonation of the pulse drones will disrupt the field cohesion of the three columns.”

I asked, “How long until deployment?”

Taush answered. “Three turns.”

I turned and gaped. Had they called me there to stand for three turns? Annoyed, I said, “I will not stand here for three turns. Call me when you’re ready.”

I shifted to my apartment and sat on my couch. Then I considered my abrupt departure, hoping I had not offended my Generals. I had not been gone that long; I remembered Imabelai floating in the blue pool beneath the falls. I wondered if she was still there. I shifted to the pool and looked from my position by the bench to the falls. I could not see Imabelai, but I could see her white jumpsuit on the rock still. I looked at the surface of the water and saw no bubbles to indicate see was below. I stooped and touched the water, using my sight to look into the pool. Imabelai was not there.

Had she wandered away? I turned and walked into the palms, following the path toward Odum’s tree. I found her there, lying in the grass with her hands folded across her belly. Her eyes were closed as I approached. I noted a sad smile as I sat beside her.

Eyes closed, Imabelai asked, “Who are in the trees?”

I said, “Odum and Ava are in the double tree. Nimrod in the other.”

“Are they special to you?” she asked.

I answered. “I have feelings for them. Yes.”

Imabelai took a deep breath and released it slowly. The space between us was calm; the garden was quiet, and I was content to leave it so. My spirit soaked in the beauty of the woman I had once loved. I was not ashamed to stare at her nakedness. I found comfort in the sight of her. If I could just sit and look at her until the Generals called me back, I would be happy. Imabelai spoke; I turned to her eyes, but they were still closed.

She asked, “Do you still have feelings for me?”

I sat silent for a moment considering the question. I answered. “If I said I did not, it would be a lie.”

Imabelai extended her left hand to me. I took it. Her hand was warm and pleasing, but I dared not let memories overpower me. She turned her eyes to me and smiled.

“Help me up,” she said.

I pulled her forward. I stood and pulled her to her feet. Standing just before her, I took a breath and noted the pleasant smell of her. Before, she had been fully atomic. There had been no odor. The smell of her, and the warmth of her hand in mine, spoke of her reversion. She dropped her hand from mine.

Imabelai said softly, “I will not press your feelings for me, but I will hope. I should report to the medic.”

She kissed my cheek, a light pecking gesture, and pulled back with glittering eyes. Then, she walked around me, heading for the pool. I watched her walk away, my eyes shameless in their attachment. I recalled the first time I had seen her lovely proportions. Father had removed her uniform, and she ran from the room ashamed. There was no shame in her slow natural gate. My sister walked with an inner power, neither flaunting nor disclaiming her magnificence.

So soon after the loss of Zotha, my mind could not frame a future with another woman. I sighed and turned away. I wandered through the garden, looking at wild goats in their rocky compounds. I looked up and found myself entering the second fourth. I followed the wall with no particular plan. Well before the ranch, I came to a rocky outcrop. I had rarely given it a thought, but it was an emergency transport tree. I touched the pad that opened it and stepped inside.

I reached out to the pad, remembering the numeric code, a simple string of eight numbers. I entered them and was immediately taken to the redundant control. It was a lot like the dome but larger. As the lights came up, I looked around. Instead of the clear view from the dome, there was a screen and console before a padded seat. A tree was positioned to the left of the console. A door to the right of the console opened into a small apartment. I sat on the bed and recalled that the redundant control doubled as an escape vehicle. Of all who knew of the existence of the redundant control, I was perhaps the last.

I shifted to the ranch; sheep ran from my sudden appearance. From inside the barn came the sound of hammering. I stepped inside and found Khamuel and Barachiel hammering a shelf to the wall.

I asked, “What are you two doing?”

They turned at my approach. Barachiel smiled broadly and answered. “Come and see.”

I stepped between them and examined their work. It seemed like a box with hinges. I looked between my friends awaiting an explanation. Khamuel spoke.

“We reasoned,” said he, “that a point might come in which the fighting is no longer ship to ship, but devolves into personal combat.”

Barachiel reached down and lifted an APR90 from its place where it leaned against the wall of the barn. He pulled the front-facing portion of the shelf outward and placed the long gun on two hooks beneath.

He said, “Thus the need for weapons reserves.”

“I see,” said I in praise. “My ship is in good hands.”

Barachiel smiled and lowered the cover. “This is our fifth,” he said.

Khamuel said, “We plan to install twenty reserves along the common paths, the ranch, Thusa, and Hope.”

Khamuel’s communicator chimed, and the voice of General Taush came through. “Find the King and tell him we are ready.”

“Aye,” answered Khamuel.

I sighed and smiled. I said to them, “I’ll leave you to it.”

I shifted to Upper Command, just inside the door, and stepped up behind the rail to stand beside General Chisisi. “Ah! Your Majesty,” said Chisisi. “At your command.”

My eyes followed the direction of his outstretched hand. Three storm columns filled the front view. Their internal lightning made them seem alive. The central column was the target. My Generals faced me and awaited my command.

“Deploy,” I said.

After a moment, all of us could see the three explosive vehicles spinning toward the central column. External lights blinked for positioning but were dimmed by the brightness of the lightning snaking around the columns. The devices became so small in the view I could no longer see them. We stood quietly, waiting. Then, Tekta called out.

“Detonation in three, two, one,” said Tekta.

Long bright arms reached out to neighboring columns but fell short. The central column swelled with internal lightning. It seemed to disintegrate before our eyes. The greater it became, the slower it moved. Then, suddenly, the swelling column ruptured in the middle. It halved, and each half, trailing fire and smoke, sped toward its farthest end. The event took several heartbeats to complete, but it was a magnificent sight.

“Take us in,” said Karnac.

We moved forward in precise formation. All but the trailing warships followed the commands of the GM, yet, in the final moment, even they became synchronous. It was a marvel that the entire operation was overseen by a single Anun navigator. Wiznchour not only had a complete sense of the fleet but a comprehensive command of direction. Finding one’s way in the Esthos was a task I gladly left to the acumen of Wiznchour.

We followed the central column up, and there, we shifted into a parallel realm of the Esthos. It looked the same. I had to be told we had shifted. There was no sense of motion, no bump to let me know we had gone through. Wiznchour simply turned in his seat and explained calmly.

“We have passed the first breach,” said he. “Now, the fleet will reposition and traverse a new line of coordinates.”

I spoke. “Wiznchour, I commend you. Generals, call me when I am needed.” That said, I shifted to my apartment and stood alone.