As was customary in Craing society, similar to a human handshake, one or two palms, depending on the formality of the situation, were pressed together and heads were briefly bowed. Chala stepped forward and held out two palms, the more intimate, and friendly gesture. “Hello, Nelmon, I am Chala, Gaddy’s very best friend here at university.”

  Ricket felt the eyes of the other young Craing women upon him. He did his best to smile casually and reciprocated her palm gesture. First, Gaddy’s insistence on their holding hands, and now this … Ricket flushed and nodded his head. “Hello, Chala. I’m happy to meet you.”

  “He’s very cute, Gaddy,” Chala said, still holding her palms up against Ricket’s.

  Gaddy stepped in and grabbed Ricket’s wrist. “We’re so late. Let’s catch up later.”

  Again, Ricket felt his arm pulled away and they were running toward the central quad area of the university. Ricket turned and waved back at the group. Chala stared back at him with a furrowed brow. Ricket remembered, waving one’s hand in the air was a human gesture. He quickly repositioned his hand, palm up. The others did the same.

  “Why are we running?” Ricket asked, perplexed.

  “That’s why,” Gaddy replied, running faster now and pointing toward a distant vehicle parking lot.

  A convoy of five military vehicles hovered there, and one black, sleek-looking shuttle sat in their midst. On the side of the shuttle was the Craing Empire’s emblem of the emperor. Virtually everyone within the confines of the quad rushed in the direction of the awaiting vehicles.

  Gaddy, never letting go of Ricket’s hand, broke through the crowd of onlookers and approached the official convoy. As Gaddy and Ricket approached, turret-mounted weapons on the five military vehicles tracked their movements. A rectangular hatch slid open on the shuttle and four armed soldiers rushed out; facing outward toward the crowd of onlookers, they took up defensive positions. A Craing female, dressed in a formal officer’s uniform, stepped onto the pavement and waited for the two to approach. The woman held up one palm. First Gaddy reciprocated the gesture. Then Ricket held his hand up to hers. He felt no warmth emanating from her skin. He initiated a quick bio-scan with his newly upgraded nano-devices and discovered she was a highly advanced cyborg. There was no visual indication that she was anything other than an organic Craing.

  “Hello, Gaddy … This must be Nelmon … Greetings. I am May-Five. You may call me May, if you wish. Gaddy, your uncle awaits you at the Emperor’s Palace. We must make haste; he has a busy day ahead and has scheduled time to meet with you this morning.”

  Gaddy and Ricket followed May into the shuttle and took seats next to each other. The inside of the shuttle was plush and smelled good. Ricket touched the seat’s soft material.

  “Yes, that’s the finest leather. Imported from Earth,” May-Five said.

  Both Gaddy and Ricket nodded and smiled appreciatively.

  “You look so much like May-Four,” Gaddy noted, in a more serious tone. “Is she still …?”

  “No. She is no longer in service to the emperor.”

  Chapter 9

  It was close to a year since The Lilly last entered Washington, D.C. airspace. This time an escort of five Apache Longbow attack helicopters greeted her at the outskirts of the city and guided her to a cleared out space in the Pentagon’s west parking lot.

  McBride, who had been at the helm the first time, was smiling. Jason knew exactly what he was thinking—the same thing he was thinking himself: Why not put her down in the Pentagon’s center court again, for old times’ sake?

  McBride brought The Lilly down to several hundred feet above the massive Pentagon building and looked back over his shoulder.

  “Not this time, Ensign,” Jason said, smiling back.

  En route, Jason had changed into his Navy captain’s uniform and now, striding down the ship’s gangway, a contingent of six armed marines were waiting for him.

  Brusquely, without conversation, Jason was hurried into one of the many Pentagon entrances. His footsteps on the highly polished linoleum flooring echoed down the busy corridor. Military personnel scurried in and out of too many offices to count. Heads turned—first with recognition—and then with what he sensed was approval. Back room TVs droned on with familiar voices from Fox, MSNBC and CNN, as TV reporters provided their station’s latest information on an inevitable Craing invasion. More than once, Jason thought he heard the words ‘hopeless situation’ spoken.

  After two more lefts and a right, past several alert-looking secret service agents, he was shown into a small, wood-paneled conference room. His father was seated, as was Secretary of Defense Ben Walker. At the head of the table sat President Ross, who, in a rare move, apparently decided to keep their private meeting off White House grounds. No one stood when Jason entered. They were engaged in a three-way heated conversation. The admiral glanced up and gestured for Jason to take a seat.

  “That’s not what I’m asking, damn it!” the president shouted. “Tell me, in the simplest terms possible, how doing that would help?”

  The president waited for Walker to continue, as if what he’d heard so far was not nearly enough.

  “For the most part, the world, and that includes America, has been shielded from what’s been happening with the Craing: the extent of their military’s reach across the universe. Citizens have little concept of how precarious our own existence is.”

  “That was a unilateral decision. We wanted to avoid mass hysteria.”

  “We were wrong, Mr. President. Multi-thousands of Craing Empire warships, at this very moment, are converging with the sole purpose of eradicating both Earth and the Alliance.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “Everyone, the world, needs to know the truth of our situation. They need to understand for themselves that petty power plays will only work against Earth in the end. We were already in the process of declassifying much of what’s been shielded from the public. Dismantling the EOUPA will be the first step toward directly involving the American people in the upcoming interstellar war that might very well be our last. Now, we also need to become equally transparent with the rest of the world.”

  President Ross seemed finally to be coming around and began nodding his head. The president looked tired and frazzled. He turned his attention to Jason. “It’s good to see you again, Captain. How long’s it been, a year?”

  “Close to that, Mr. President.”

  “The world’s in a similar situation today as it was back then. Only this time we may be facing mass, worldwide, hysteria. I am—we all are—putting our faith in you once again, Jason.”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  “I’ve been briefed on the mission you’ll be heading up to retrieve the Minian. It sounds overtly risky to me. You fail and not only do we not get the Minian, but we potentially lose The Lilly as well. Wouldn’t it be far more prudent for you to stay close to Earth?”

  “No, sir, I don’t agree with that. Yes, it’s risky. But we need to remember, the Minian provides advanced technology the Craing could, and surly would, use against us later.”

  The president contemplated on that and slowly nodded, “Well, I’ve made my objections clear. I’ll go along with your plan, but you better come through. I hope I’m making myself clear here.”

  “Crystal, Mr. President.”

  The admiral slid a folder across the table to Jason. “Review the contents of this folder and be prepared to meet with me again later this afternoon.”

  “We need to change subjects here, since everything’s interrelated,” the president said. “As far as bringing the rest of the world up to speed, getting the Earth’s populace to unite into a solitary front may be even more imperative, and will require assistance from the media worldwide. We’ll need someone to bridge the gap between the media and the populace. Someone intelligent; a communicator; a person who has first-hand experience with the Craing.”

  There was a commotion behind Jason as more people entered the conference room. But only one person commanded his full attention. Standing there, in an ivory blouse and slim-fitting navy blue skirt—her face tanned and radiant—was none other than Nan Reynolds. Nan and Jason’s eyes locked for a brief moment, before she nervously looked away.

  The meeting continued for several more hours. Based on her exemplary past work as the legal envoy for the EOUPA, as well as her first-hand experience with the Craing, Nan was to be tasked with heading up both domestic and worldwide interstellar relations. Pretty much anything involving space and the Craing Empire, she would be involved with.

  The president looked at his watch and turned to Nan. “I can’t stress enough the importance of your position, Nan. Much of what you’ll be dealing with for the interim will be media relations. But it involves far more than that. You’ll be right in the center of things. It won’t be easy.”

  Nan glanced over to Jason. Her expression showed a mix of stern resolve that also seemed contemplative. “Sir, I have two daughters. Both dealing with things little girls shouldn’t experience. I need to be there with them—for them.”

  “You will have all the support you need. That will extend to your personal life. Nan, this is not an administrative level position. What we’re talking about is a new cabinet post.” President Ross let that sink in for a moment and continued: “Let me make this clear; even as we sit here, this post is being fast-tracked. Nan, you’ll report directly to me and you will start working immediately. Right now.”

  * * *

  The president returned to the White House. Nan and Jason stood in a Pentagon hallway that swarmed with activity around them.

  “How did you get here so fast?” Jason asked.

  “One of the Craing cruisers was brought back from the moon and landed in the open space near the scrapyard. I was awakened by military representatives,” Nan answered.

  “Where are the girls?”

  “With me. They’re here in the Pentagon, somewhere, being watched over by a Naval officer, someone named Priscilla Miller.”

  “I was hoping to spend time with you and the girls tonight. Brought The Lilly underground yesterday. Thought we could have a barbeque this afternoon.”

  “That would have been nice,” she said, placing a hand on Jason’s arm. “Understand, I didn’t want this, but … what do you do when the president of the United States requests your service?” She stared down the corridor as if looking for something. “I’m just worried about Mollie and Boomer,” she added.

  “They’ll be fine,” Jason said. “How are they getting along? It must be strange for them. For you.”

  Nan’s expression changed and a smile crept back onto her lips. “They are good together. I mean, sure, they argue and get strangely territorial, but for the most part, they are happy. Happy to have one another.”

  “I look forward to seeing them … once things settle down,” Jason said.

  “You should also know they figured things out for themselves, where they’ll be staying.”

  “Here in Washington with you, I’d imagine,” Jason said.

  Nan slowly shook her head. “From the start they both knew they wouldn’t be living together very long. I don’t know how or why they reached their decision, but they’re resolute.”

  Jason waited for her to continue, but a part of him already knew what she was going to say.

  “Mollie will stay with me. Boomer wants to stay with you, on board The Lilly. When I suggested to Boomer that she should stay with me and Mollie, she got emotional; said she belonged with you, needed to take care of you.”

  Jason thought about that for a moment. The truth was, as they’d discovered during recent tumultuous times, living on planet Earth wasn’t necessarily any safer than living on The Lilly. “If that’s what she wants, what they both want, and it’s okay with you, too … then that’s fine with me. I miss them when they’re gone. We’ll get them together as often as possible.”

  Ben Walker, standing nearby them, seemed to be hovering. “I guess we need to get things moving along now, Jason,” Nan said, nodding toward Walker. “I’m scheduled to finish my briefing with the secretary of defense.”

  “Yeah, and me with the admiral.” Jason pulled her into a hug and they stayed like that for several moments. He brought his mouth close to her ear and said: “I’m so glad you’re still with us.”

  She gently pulled away and smiled. “You keep saying that. This Nan never left—you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Her expression became more serious, “Jason … Um …”

  “What? What is it?”

  Nan quickly glanced over her shoulder at Walker and then back at Jason. “There’s something else … Something I’d like to talk to you about. But now’s not the time … or place.”

  Jason saw the concern in her eyes—the vulnerability. “What is it, Nan? Just tell me.”

  “I can’t right now. Soon, though, okay?” She half smiled and rushed off toward the conference room.

  * * *

  By the time Jason finished his discussion with the admiral and several joint chiefs, four more hours had transpired. He exited the Pentagon and made his way back up The Lilly’s gangway. He felt tired and grumpy. His mind went to the next task at hand: take The Lilly and a small convoy of ships to the outskirts of Craing space to the Orange Corridor and locate a planet called Allaria. He knew nothing about the planet or its people. Supposedly, they were not friends of the Craing. But no one knew for sure if they would be found hostile or welcoming.

  He stopped when he heard a distant, familiar rumble. He walked back down the ramp and stood on the pavement. He shielded his eyes from the harsh midday sun and saw them approaching, crossing over the Potomac River—a formation of seven Craing light cruisers. They separated from formation and landed where space was available. Only two hours earlier, they’d reached the decision on the implementation of this small fleet to accompany The Lilly beyond Allied space, some sixty light-years away.

  A convoy of military vehicles arrived and positioned themselves around the cruisers. Men wearing overalls hurried to predetermined stations. Equipment and supplies were hustled from the backs of utility vans. Within minutes the work was underway. A small army had assembled for a simple, but all-important task—painting the U.S. flag emblem over the EOUPA logo. More vehicles arrived and men and weapons were unloaded. They were Marines. Jason knew from his earlier meetings that no less than a thousand men would be divided among the seven warships. Jason turned and headed back up the gangway.

  “Dad! Dad!”

  Again, Jason stopped midway up the ramp. In the distance, he saw three figures making their way toward him. Running out in front was Boomer. All legs, and with an exuberance of energy, she ran toward him. Behind her was a woman dressed in naval BDUs, and the unmistakable form of Teardrop.

  Boomer was up the ramp and coming in for a hug before he knew it. She was smiling and out of breath.

  “Were you going to leave without me? Why didn’t you wait for us?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I guess I thought you’d find your own way here, just as you have.”

  “You need to remember I’m just a kid. I thought you’d gone and left me.”

  Teardrop swooped by the two of them without a sound and continued into the ship.

  The woman NCO stood at the bottom of the gangway and saluted. “Permission to come aboard, Captain.”

  “Granted.”

  She hurried up the ramp and stopped. Saluting again, she said, “Petty Officer Priscilla Miller, reporting for duty, sir.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m assigned to your daughter, sir.”

  “Who made that decision?”

  “The secretary of inter-stellar relations, sir,” she replied almost apologetically.

  “Nan wants you on board?”

  “It was one of her conditions for taking the cabinet post, Captain. Boomer’s schoolwork needs to be administered; she needs to be better supervised in general, sir.”

  Jason caught Boomer rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “I don’t need a babysitter, Dad. Tell her to go back where she came from.”

  Jason almost laughed out loud, but held it in. “Look, we’ve done just fine so far without having Boomer—”

  Jason was cut off mid-sentence. “I’m sorry, sir. The secretary said you would argue about it and wanted me to repeat the following words—”

  “What words?”

  “‘My way or the highway. I outrank you now.’”

  Both Jason and the petty officer smiled.

  “Fine,” Jason said, turning and moving up the gangway again. “I’ll have quarters arranged for—”

  “Already taken care of, sir,” she said, brushing past him and Boomer and entering The Lilly.

  Jason bristled at being interrupted by the woman twice. He shrugged and gave Boomer a commiserate smile. “Sorry, we’ll just have to get used to her.”

  Boomer ran the rest of the way up the gangway.

  “Where you off to?” Jason yelled after her.

  “Going to the Zoo. I want to see Alice,” she said and disappeared into the ship.

  Jason stayed and watched as more U.S. flag emblems were added to other Craing light cruisers. He felt a surprising sense of pride as he looked out over the small fleet of freshly painted, bright white ships with their new, contrasting red, white, and blue stars and stripes emblems. A crowd of people from the Pentagon—some dressed as civilians, others in military uniforms—were taking in the spectacle. His father was right. This was indeed America’s fight. It always had been.

  Chapter 10

  The Lilly and her formation of seven Craing light cruisers lifted off from the Pentagon grounds simultaneously. Below, Jason saw many national and local news agencies had their trucks positioned on outlying streets. Camera crews were shooting their departure.

  The three hundred and sixty degree overhead display changed from the scene below to an above and forward perspective. Jason watched as his bridge crew went about their business with calm, well-practiced efficiency. Gunny Orion would be filling two roles, as both tactical and acting XO. Ensign McBride was at the helm and one of the Gordon twin brothers, Jason wasn’t sure which one, was at comms. He’d given up trying to tell them apart. Typically, they weren’t posted on the same shift together.