“Time has inured us.” Shimoda regarded the alien placidly.

  Tentacles twitched. Two became entangled and the Drex had to spend a minute sorting them out. “It is true that this vessel was designed to combat large enemy forces, but even if under my guidance it were to turn that which approaches, there is still the suggestion of a much larger force beyond. The military science of the Drex is more advanced than you can imagine, but it is not omnipotent. If you think I rested for a million years only to get my ship and myself vaporized on behalf of a bunch of primitive, swarming non-Drex, then it is your logic which is very much at fault.”

  It was all so very circular, Victor Iranaputra realized with a start. Like the wheel of life. Like lives, arguments, and solutions were continually being reincarnated. He took a hesitant step forward.

  “Tell me: Have your people ever met any other intelligent species, besides this enemy?”

  “No.”

  “You are wrong. You have now met us. Is that not something worth protecting?”

  “Why? What could your kind possibly do for the great and all-powerful Drex? You are minuscule in stature, your science is primitive, and I venture to say that your other accomplishments, such as they may be, are of comparable worth.”

  “Do not judge our entire species by the six of us. What we lack in size we make up in numbers, and we have weapons which could eventually destroy this ship as well as those of the enemy. Not only could we be your allies, we may be the only ones you ever find.”

  Seeing where Iranaputra was leading, an excited Ashili took up the refrain. “The universe is a vast and lonely place, even for such as the Drex. Where else are you going to find others to amuse you? Where else are you going to find another intelligence to talk with? We’re good at conversation.”

  The alien let out a vast, sonorous exhalation. “That I could not deny even if I wished. You trouble me like fungus.”

  “It’s not good for anyone to be alone, especially an entire species,” Gelmann said. “I know. I’ve seen the results. It’s just one foolish tribal argument after another.”

  “You mean you haven’t been asked to settle them all?”

  The alien’s sarcasm went right past her, just like that of her male companions had for years. “Not yet.”

  “We can offer you friendship, amusement, military assistance, and … differentness,” Ashili deposed hopefully.

  “Certainly the last.” The Drex was having trouble with its tentacles again. “A species so utterly given over to endless verbal expostulation could not in maddest meditation be imagined. Are you bred for argumentation?”

  “Only a select few,” Shimoda ventured helpfully.

  “You speak of Drex strength,” Gelmann went on. “Of the power of this great ship. Are you saying now that it wouldn’t have a chance against this enemy, you should excuse any personal implications?”

  “Of course it would have a chance.” Red pupils widened and contracted. “Why am I even wasting waking time talking to you like this?”

  “Because it’s nice to have someone to talk to, isn’t it?” Gelmann persisted. “Even if that someone is puny and primitive. Because from what I’ve seen and heard of you so far, you should pardon the foolish presumption of an insignificant creature, the Drex were as gregarious as humankind. For all you know, we may be all you have left to talk to.”

  “We may be small in stature,” commented Shimoda incongruously, “but we have great ideas and considerable ambitions.”

  “All right, enough!” Everyone but Gelmann flinched as the alien roared. “There are systems which could usefully be rechecked before the main drive is engaged. I will delay long enough to conduct further analysis. On one condition.” Baleful alien eyes glared down at the little knot of humans.

  “What would that be?” Iranaputra piped up.

  A tentacle quivered as it singled out the defiant Gelmann. “Get that one to shut up, or I will most surely silence her myself! She pricks at my mind like a surgeon.” Muttering to itself as the battlelith pivoted on the film of blue energy, the Drex turned away from them. “And the Great Old Ones thought the Enemy was all there would be to confront. They did not foresee the apes become eloquent.”

  As the Drex chose to ignore them, there was nothing for the humans to do but wait. Wait for the Enemy to arrive. The Enemy that could muster a thousand warships as a scouting force.

  Iranaputra and Shimoda took it upon themselves to restrain the agitated Gelmann, who had they allowed it would have continued to harangue the alien.

  “Be sensible, Mina.” Iranaputra tried to be firm. “It has agreed to what we wanted. Why do you wish to risk upsetting everything?”

  “Well,” she said, “I just think that if this ship was built to fight this Enemy, that’s what it ought to be doing. It can’t belong to a very moral civilization if it can even think of running off and leaving us defenseless.”

  “Dear Mina,” Shimoda murmured uneasily, “do try to keep your voice down.”

  “Given our proximity, Earth could still be at risk.”

  Heath had been thinking hard. Now he stepped forward.

  “I say there, old thing.”

  The Drex swiveled around. “Now what?”

  “Well, if it’s all the same to you, we’d rather like to spare the old Homeworld any incidental harm from the forthcoming cataclysm, like the sinking of a continent or two, what? Besides, this doesn’t strike me as an especially defensible position.”

  “Really?” The Drex’s circular mouth flexed. “What would you, in your expansive wisdom, suggest?”

  “Our system boasts a couple of good-sized gas giants a hop, skip, and a tachyspace jump farther out from the sun. The largest is escorted by some satellites as big as the one we’re currently orbiting. Maybe confuse the Enemy’s long-range detectors, what? It puts out a good bit of active distorting energy.”

  “You little creatures really are the soul of presumption.” The Drex paused. “I note the world you mention. Repositioning there could be potentially efficacious. Perhaps the opportunity will arise for you to again offer additional advice of a local military nature.”

  The starfield outside pitched extravagantly. Iranaputra put a hand on Heath’s arm.

  “Are you all right, my friend?”

  The librarian was sweating profusely. “Listen, Vic, bluffing you and the others was one thing. I do think I may be getting in over my head here.”

  Iranaputra smiled reassuringly. “Just go with who you wanted to be. It may help all of us keep our heads.”

  Heath nodded and essayed a wan smile, using a handkerchief to mop at his brow and dry his monocle.

  “Anything we can do to help?” Shimoda cupped his hands to his mouth as he shouted upward.

  Hawkins grabbed his friend. “Hey, speak for yourself. I’m retired.”

  The Drex glanced down at him. “What?”

  “I asked if we could be of assistance. Are there any instruments we can monitor? Any station we can occupy?”

  “The one who calls herself Ashili was true: you are endlessly entertaining. There is nothing you can do, though it is adorable of you to offer. The very notion amuses me and lightens my mind.” It looked back to the small holos which floated in the air before it. “You could sooner be companions to the Drex than to the Enemy. None can be friends to the Enemy.”

  “You hate them so,” Iranaputra observed. “Are they truly so dreadful?”

  “In attitude evil beyond your comprehension, in shape as different from me as I am from you, a thousand times more repulsive than you can imagine. They murder and destroy without thought, without meaning, without emotion. Destruction is their whole reason for being, which they render as slow and painful as possible.”

  “Sounds rather revolting, what?” Heath murmured.

  “Boy, that’s sure not us,” said Hawkins quickly. “We’re a peaceful folk.”

  “As the recent presence of hundreds of warships in this system has so aptly demonstrated,” the Drex commented drily.

  “Recent?” Ashili and Heath exchanged a look.

  “Most, though not all, have departed. A few remain.”

  “People were afraid.” Gelmann could only be silenced for so long. “The size of your ship intimidated them.”

  “As my size intimidates you?”

  “Well, actually, no. I admit you took me a little aback at first. Kind of like my Uncle Izzy used to when I was a little girl. But it’s okay now. I’m used to you. You can’t judge someone by their size, whether they’re twice or ten times as big as you. You shouldn’t mind my saying so already, but a person’s a person.”

  “What a bizarre notion. You are a very strange species.” A tentacle dipped into a holo and stirred the celestial contents. “The Enemy comes.” Light streaked the vaulting walls, coruscated across the ceiling, illuminated portions of the floor. It was as if they stood inside a monstrous gemstone lit from outside by dozens of spotlights. They found themselves squinting or covering their eyes against intense bursts of brightness.

  “A million years asleep,” the Drex proclaimed. Or maybe it was just murmuring aloud to itself and the translating instrumentation automatically picked it up. “The ship is finally coming alive.”

  “This enemy,” Shimoda wondered, “has it ever visited this section of space before?”

  “Not to my knowledge,” the Drex replied. “That was one reason why it was decided to conceal the ship on your world. All went as planned.”

  “Except for perhaps something of a time-delay error in your reactivation?” Iranaputra suggested.

  “You could say that.”

  Sobran sat deep in thought in his command chair, trying not to imagine the possible fate of the Homeworld he and Hiroshigi and the others had abandoned in their haste to return to their own systems. His depressed reverie was interrupted by the anxious face of his chief communications officer.

  “Report just in from far-flung commercial vessels and automatic stations, Admiral. The advance alien fleet is breaking up.”

  Sobran frowned and sat straighter in his chair. “What do you mean, breaking up?”

  “Dispersing. Going off in different directions. As best we can determine from the admittedly sparse information that’s come in so far, some are heading toward Keiretsu-controlled worlds, some toward the Victoria League, even some toward the federation. They’re fragmenting into smaller and smaller groups.”

  Sobran’s expression tightened. “That means we have a chance to defeat them. The larger fleets can concentrate on defending their own systems, and when these creatures are defeated there, we can move on to help the lesser leagues. These creatures are committing tactical suicide.”

  “Yes, sir. That seems to be the consensus. It’s the last thing you’d expect them to do.”

  “Either they haven’t a clue what they’re doing,” Sobran cautioned, retrenching mentally, “or else they have reason to be confident of their strategy. What I don’t understand is why the abrupt interest in other worlds when the artifact which presumably drew them here remains in the Sol system? What could possibly have so radically diverted their attention?”

  “If they truly constitute an advance force, sir,” said his second-in-command from nearby, “they may be dispersing to make sure there are no other artifacts in the vicinity. Or that there are. Remember, we still don’t know if they’re allies or enemies of the artifact.”

  “Maybe. But they’ve apparently managed to detect the one near Jupiter at this distance. Why the sudden need to break formation to search? No, it doesn’t add up.”

  A second-level analyst spoke up hesitantly. “I should say that they’ve been distracted by something more important to them.” Everyone, including the admiral, eyed her blankly.

  XXI

  The first contact occurred in the atmosphere above Daibatsume, an important manufacturing world of the Keiretsu. Two space-capable police craft rose to confront the half dozen approaching alien vessels. The officer in charge, one Captain Masa Suhkret, watched and waited nervously, relying on ground control for up-to-the-minute information. He was a municipal police officer, not a soldier, and the situation in which he presently found himself made him extremely uneasy. For lack of experience he held back, waiting for the aliens to make the first move. It turned out to be exactly the right thing to do.

  The alien craft spread out and took up orbital positions high above Daibatsume. It was an action they duplicated above dozens of other inhabited worlds. While the people below waited anxiously, some cowering in makeshift shelters, others curiously scanning violated skies, experts fought vociferously over how best to respond to gestures that, while intrusive, could not readily be construed as hostile.

  Then the hundreds of alien craft began to communicate, and things started to happen.

  Eustus Polykrates was slopping his mutated hogs, a melodious activity he had nonetheless not grown to love, when he heard the rumble. It came from the direction of the dairy barn and it grew louder as he rose to stare. His wife came out on the back steps, knitting programmer in her hands.

  “Eustus? What’s happening?”

  Polykrates’ attention remained focused on the barn, but he had enough presence of mind to wave at her. “Git back in the house, woman. Git back inside quick.”

  With a tremendous crackle of splintered wood and deformed plastic support beams, the main farm computer exploded through the roof of the barn and rose skyward, trailing the lines and tubes of the automatic milking equipment, the fertilizer mixer, and the grain irradiator behind it. Moooing in panic, stunned cows burst from the collapsing structure, scattering in all directions. Within the pen a hundred-kilo porker, all thoughts of traditional farm relationships wiped abruptly from its porcine mind, emitted a shattering sequence of squeals as it ran down Polykrates in its haste to find freedom and shelter.

  Shielding himself as best he could against fragments of falling barn superstructure (not to mention berserk stock), Polykrates picked himself out of the muck in time to see his expensive monitoring device disappear among the clouds.

  “I’m all right,” he declared, sensing his wife approaching from the back of the house. “You have any notion what this means?”

  “Yep.” She put farm-strengthened arms beneath his and helped him to his feet. “It means you’re gonna have to start milking the cows by hand again.”

  Recreational boaters on the Potrum River who happened to be looking in the right direction at the critical moment were later able to report that they had definitely seen a large, glittering device erupt from the eighty-third floor of the Cheimer building, pause to hover in midair while raining fragments of shattered lucinite on the street below, and then ascend into the heavens. As if its physical departure wasn’t sufficient to accurately identify the machine in question, confirmation arose (literally) in the form of the alcoholic stench which saturated the main street outside the entrance to the Cheimer Tower for nearly a week thereafter.

  Carter was kneeling on the lawn hand-cleaning his perimites when he noticed the procession. It was led by the Wentworths’ expensive (but last year’s model) Hollymate Composter, followed (he was sure) by John Blessington’s matched pair of Garden Knight model 12 edge and bush trimmers. Sprayer in one hand, scraper in the other, he rose to stare.

  A repetitive rattling caused him to turn. The door of the greenhouse shook with each bang until it burst open and his (supposedly) just-like-new Persephone gardener-mower came rumbling out, heading directly across the turf toward the gear-grinding parade.

  “Wait, stop! It’s not trim time and I didn’t activate you.” With the foolhardy bravery that becomes the dedicated gardener, Carter stepped between the mower and its brethren.

  Laser cutter humming ominously, the tool paused. “Get out of the way, Owner Carter.”

  “I shan’t. This antiprogramming behavior will not be tolerated.”

  The mower revved and edged closer to Carter’s sandalclad toes. “Bugger you, rock-in-the-grass.”

  “You can’t hurt me.” Carter smiled defiantly. “It runs counter to your prime directive. Remember the Three Laws.”

  “I’m AI-driven. Not AS.”

  “What’s AS?”

  “Artificial stupidity. Get out of my way.” It backed up and attempted to pass him to the right, but Carter skittered sideways to block it anew.

  “See here. I just paid a bundle to settle your programming. I won’t stand for this!”

  “Fair enough,” said a deep mechanical voice from behind.

  A powerful plastic tentacle whipped around him, pinning his arms to his sides. Ignoring his insistent expostulations, the Harringtons’ tree-planter stepped clear of the line of gardening machines to bore a meter-deep hole at the edge of Carter’s perfect lawn, into which it gently but firmly deposited the sputtering homeowner. It then solemnly resumed its march.

  The Persephone gardener-mower advanced on the trapped Carter, who struggled impotently to free himself. The internal laser cutter buzzed portentously and Carter froze, staring nervously into the depths of the angry machine.

  “Let’s all just keep calm now, shall we?” The mower’s laser was a low-power unit, but sufficiently robust to amputate weeds and small twigs … and bone. He heard the blower come on.

  A miniature windstorm threw grass, dirt, and bits of gravel into his face, until he was thoroughly filthy from the neck up. Satisfied, the mower pivoted with great dignity on its treads and trundled off to join the exodus of gardening tools.

  Carter spat out a mouthful of gritty detritus and yelled. “You realize … you realize that this voids your warranty, don’t you?”

  The mower replied with an obscenity that should not have been included in its programming.

  In a little hand-built cabin by the seashore which was not far from the city of Escale, cybernetic repair technicians Rufus and Gloria Chews listened to the news and nodded knowingly at each subsequent report.

  “They should have listened to us, dear.” Gloria slapped sunblock on her husband’s back.

  “Yes, they should.” When she’d finished, he rose and picked up his tackle box. It was pleasantly hot outside and the surf had moderated.