That was the key to his personality. He took what he could get. He was an opportunist. The idea of being a rep for a great alien race—Lugo had worked his butt off to get the post.

  He wasn’t sure if he understood the Kames. They were alien. But the mental groupthink entity of billions of individually linked Kames that had connected with him had given him something he’d never known in Sydney. He belonged. He was part of the whole. He had become one with the Kames. In the ring, if he lost too much, his associates would have kicked him to the curb. Later, in the loan business, his associates would have put a bullet in his brain if he had upset them enough. He’d been part of the team, sure, but there had been no loyalty to him.

  In his room aboard the Nathan Graham, Lugo was sweating on the cot as he twisted in his sleep. Had it been any different with the Kames, though? One stupid mistake and they had severed the oneness. They had left him to twist in the wind. But Hawkins had made a deal with them. He was on probation. While in further deep training on probation, before the void voyage, the Kames had taken him in hand and shown him certain truths.

  Lugo had understood the aliens better. The Kames were one. He was an outsider trying to speak for them. He thought like an individual. He looked out for his own interests first. A Kame would never do that. A Kame would sacrifice his one life without hesitation for the greater whole. Would Lugo do that?

  Lugo had known the answer, all right—no freaking way.

  “As you serve us, we serve you,” the Kames had told him. “You are one with us as long as you obey our dictates to the letter. We will go to the wall for you—in your terms—if you will go to the wall for us.”

  Loyalty. They wanted loyalty. He could lose, but if he followed their dictates to the letter, followed their mores, they would never abandon him. Something in that was unique to Lugo, and it had struck a chord in him. He’d been alone for so long, but he was part of something bigger with them, he was one.

  Maybe if he belonged with them long enough, he could learn to willingly sacrifice himself for the greater whole.

  The trouble for Lugo Malagate right now was the horrific void. It was like nothing in reality, in time and space. What that meant to the mental connection with the Kames—was brutal separation the instant the Nathan Graham entered the void and the reality rip closed. That had cut his connection to the great Kames.

  Lugo had been alone so far this trip. It was driving him crazy, and it was also such a great feeling to be in charge of all his thoughts again, that he wrestled with the idea of ever letting the Kames rule his actions as they used to again.

  He did not have any mental revulsion to the Kames joining. It was after experiencing it, after knowing the Kames could make him do things he would never do on his own that Lugo was having second thoughts. Yet, the idea of never belonging, of never being one with an entire race of superior beings again—

  Lugo groaned in his sleep. The Kames were the greatest race in existence. They knew it as so, and he had come around to their way of thinking. Could it have been otherwise? The Kames knew such serenity together…

  Lugo smiled, and for a moment, he stopped twisting in his sleep. He would rejoin the Kames and know peace and oneness again. He would work harder than ever—

  Lugo grunted in his sleep as the smile vanished. Something struck his mind—Lugo bolted upright, his eyes opening. He stared in his sleep. He stared with horror because he saw…

  “No,” he moaned in his sleep. “No, don’t come any closer, I beg you. Stop it.”

  -4-

  Lugo didn’t know it, but his unconscious, sleeping mind had been roving out in the void. If he’d been a real telepath like the Seiners, he would never have survived the process. Seiners had strength and range and would have felt the sick nothingness of the void. It would have scrambled their minds and destroyed their being, creating mental discontinuity.

  Lugo had no such power, as he wasn’t a telepath in the usual sense. If anything, he was more of a weak empath. It was a feeble ability, as this empathy hadn’t softened his outlook on life or toward others, particularly his victims. Lugo thought it was a victim’s own dumb luck at best, and stupid mistakes at worst, that had gotten them into trouble. Let the victim pay for his errors. Why should Lugo trouble himself to help a loser?

  Yet, Lugo did have genuine empathic mental ability. That meant he roved in the void with his weak power but failed to feel its true horror. The reality generator anchored him. The void seepage affected his mind more than it did others, but the dope that let him cope helped tremendously in keeping his sanity.

  His mind roved in nothingness, in the great unreality of null space. It floated where nothing could exist, where thoughts, feelings and sparks of existence unraveled into absolutely zero. How could his thought move in this nothing? That paradox would probably drive Lugo Malagate insane in short order despite the reality generator and injections of DE-16-C.

  Except something even stranger now took over. Lugo’s weak power suddenly connected to an unknown intelligence. It connected hard and fast because he was used to the linkage with the Kames. The grooves in his mind, the ones that longed to belong again, allowed the connection to happen faster and truer than otherwise.

  Who are you?

  The question surged out of the void where nothing existed—or should exist—and demanded an answer from the sleeping man.

  What is the thing you’re in?

  Lugo twisted on the cot, moaning and sweating; his eyes closed again when he had lain back down. His face was creased with pain. The alien thought was powerful, connecting to him with brutal strength.

  A reality field. You are inside a reality field. Yet…I do not sense energy thoughts like a Sister of Enoy. You are different. You are a hard-matter creature. The reality field is Enoy expertise. Is it possible that you know the Sisters of Enoy?

  Once more, the sleeping Lugo groaned and twisted, his sheets wet from his sweat. The discomfort of the wet sheets should have woken him up some time ago, but he was in the grip of this powerful, alien mental force.

  I would know more, hard-matter thing. Why do you not send all your thoughts to me? What perversity causes you to hold back?

  “Not real,” Lugo muttered in his sleep.

  What is this? You claim that I lack reality. That is a slur worse than anything any Sister of Enoy has ever said to me. I should punish you, possibly let you discontinue at once.

  “No,” Lugo muttered.

  Ah. You disagree. You fear discontinuity. I thought so. I must see you in person. Yes. I want the ship and the generator. I might not have noticed you, thing, but your pathetic thoughts drew me to this zone.

  “Nothing,” Lugo muttered. “We travel through nothing.”

  Do you, though? You know so little. It’s amazing you can exist here. It must be the Enoy equipment. You are reality strivers. You are hard material struggling things. You seek to use the null to your advantage. Well, you have made a mistake, pathetic thing. You are going to learn who and what I am. I will enjoy it, as I have become bored. But you will not approve of what I am going to do to you. Oh, no, you in particular Lugo Malagate will wail in misery. For I shall put you in a place where you shall be alone for the rest of your existence.

  “Paradox,” Lugo sleep-muttered. “This is the null. There is no existence here.”

  We shall see if your theorem holds or not. I will make a slight adjustment to the zone around your reality field. Hmm… This is more difficult than I thought. Well, how about this then?

  Lugo Malagate might have sensed what occurred. However, the stress to his mind was too much. He blanked out, going into a coma, almost ceasing to breathe, and then slowly inhaling as his body struggled against the paradoxes that sought to kill him.

  -5-

  A klaxon blared through the Void Ship Nathan Graham. The sound penetrated Jon’s sleep but was unable to wake him. In a dream, he ran through a burning house, the sound of a fire-truck siren only adding to his misery.

  “Jon,” Gloria said. “Jon, wake up.”

  His eyes snapped open. He stared at his petite wife, seeing the worry on her face. He heard the klaxon and, sitting up, almost bumped his head against hers.

  “What is that?” he asked in alarm. “What’s wrong? Has the reality generator stopped functioning?”

  Gloria stared at him.

  He knew he’d guessed right. “Move aside,” he said, sliding on the bed, seeking to get to the floor so he could run and find out what was happening.

  “Wait,” Gloria said, her small hands gripping one of his triceps. “How did you guess that?”

  “What?” he said, struggling to reach the edge of the bed.

  “Jon. Stop a minute.”

  He did, twisting back to look at her.

  “How did you guess that? About the generator?” she asked.

  “I dunno. It was just a guess.”

  “I don’t believe that. You knew, somehow. Okay. Let’s go.”

  ***

  Jon and Gloria used a flitter, reaching the chamber with the Enoy-like reality generator humming softly. It didn’t look like much, a giant box structure with a bank of wall controls on one side. A hatch leading into the generator was on a different side.

  A weary, sweaty Bast Banbeck met them at the main hatch to the chamber.

  “Why are you here?” asked Gloria.

  “I have some training in this,” Bast said quietly, using a rag to mop sweat from his face.

  “When did that happen?” she asked.

  Bast shrugged. “The generator is running again.”

  “The klaxons have stopped,” Jon said. He felt the heat; the chamber was blistering. Air conditioners hummed overtime. “What happened, Bast? Why did the generator stop, and why is it so hot in here?”

  Bast shrugged wearily once again. “The reality generator strained, working overtime. That’s what caused the heat. Engineers are hooking up extra cooling units to the chamber and are setting up more near the machine.”

  Jon noticed teams of technicians moving heavy crates, rolling them to the far side of the reality generator.

  “No one knows what caused the reality generator to labor so hard,” Bast said. “The generator shorted, in one sense, although that’s not altogether accurate. It’s an approximation of what happened.”

  “What could short the generator?” Gloria asked.

  “The engineers are checking on it. It wasn’t a power shortage, but…” Bast shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  Jon and Gloria traded worried glances.

  “That’s not good enough,” Jon said sharply to Bast. “I want—”

  Another klaxon began to blare, interrupting his words. At the same time, a com unit on Bast’s belt stared chiming. He picked it up, putting it to his right ear.

  “Commander,” Bast said, thrusting the small unit at him. “It’s for you.”

  Wordlessly, Jon accepted the com unit. “Sir,” the navigator said from it. “I was trying to reach you. But you’re not wearing your com unit.”

  “Go ahead,” Jon said. “What happened?”

  “You’d better come to the bridge on the double, sir. Something is hailing us from outside the ship.”

  “That’s impossible,” Jon said, as his chest began to tighten.

  “Agreed,” the navigator said. “That’s why I think you should come up here, sir.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  ***

  Jon sat in the commander’s chair on the bridge. Gloria was at her station. There was nothing “real” to see on the main screen, because no sane person would put the void on a screen for people to witness. It would soon drive people mad, even those injected with DE-16-C. A sensor operator used a different kind of device, a computer-animated simulation for her to study.

  The klaxon no longer blared. Instead, doped-up bridge crewmembers studied their panels.

  “When did the hailing stop?” Jon asked again.

  “Soon after I called you,” the navigator said.

  “Oh,” Gloria said from her station. “Jon, come quick. Take a look at this.”

  He jumped out of the commander’s chair and hurried to her station. As he approached, he saw a red light indicating someone was trying to hail them yet again.

  “How is such a thing possible?” he asked.

  “It’s an Enoy signal,” Gloria said. “I remember it from my lessons in void technology. This is an emergency channel.”

  “Is Zeta out there?” Jon asked hopefully.

  “Just a moment,” Gloria said, as she tapped her board. “There, I hooked up the Enoy translator. Do I accept the message?”

  “Yes, yes,” Jon said.

  Gloria tapped her panel once more.

  “Hello, hello, alien vessel.”

  “This is the Nathan Graham,” Gloria said into the com.

  “What is a Nathan Graham?”

  “An Earth vessel,” Gloria said.

  “A dirt ship?” the alien asked. “That makes little sense.”

  “Who are you?” asked Gloria.

  “You would not understand. I am Zeno of Enoy—”

  “You’re a Sister of Enoy?” asked Gloria, interrupting.

  “You’ve heard of us?”

  “That’s how we acquired a void ship, through one of Enoy.”

  “You robbed a Sister of Enoy?”

  “No, no,” Gloria said. “A Sister of Enoy aided us against the AIs and helped us construct our own void ship.”

  “You lie,” the other said.

  Jon stepped up, putting a hand on Gloria’s left arm. “Let me,” he said.

  Gloria stood up and stepped aside.

  Jon sat down at the com station. “This is Supreme Commander Jon Hawkins. Why are you hailing our vessel, Zeno?”

  “You are not of Enoy?”

  “A Sister of Enoy aided us,” Jon said. “We speak the truth. She took a chance on humanity, and we defeated an AI fleet by using void ships. Now, we are attacking deeper into the AI Dominion, using the void for a sneak attack.”

  “Name the Sister.”

  “I am naming no one right now,” Jon said. “I would first like to know your intentions toward us.”

  “Do you have a fond regard for those of Enoy?”

  “Most certainly,” Jon said.

  “Would you aid Sisters of Enoy in distress?”

  “If I could.”

  “Then listen well, unknown creature from a world named Dirt. We are three Sisters of Enoy trapped on this paradox planet. We are in a terrible predicament and have been here for…I think five thousand years in space and time terms.”

  “What?” Jon asked, bewildered.

  “Can you not comprehend my words?” Zeno asked.

  “You’ve been trapped five thousand years. But surely you can’t have been trapped that long in the void. You’d be discontinued by now.”

  “You use Enoy terms. I can almost believe those of the Sisterhood aided you. That is inconceivable to me. But maybe in five thousand years the war goes better against the AIs. Oh, no, Cronus senses what we’re doing. He will silence us soon. Dirt-ship, can you navigate through the void?”

  Jon looked at Gloria. She stared back at him, likely not knowing what to say any more than he did.

  “We are able to go from one location in reality to another by using the void,” Jon said.

  “No, no,” Zeno said. “That is obvious. Can you maneuver in the void?”

  “That is irrational. The void is nothing, no space, emptiness—”

  “You foolish creature, the Sister of Enoy must have distrusted you. You cannot understand the whole if that is your thinking. You only perceive part of what the void really is. No! Cronus is almost here. Can you receive a pulse transmission?”

  Jon made an instant decision. “Yes,” he said. “Send when ready.”

  The panel lit up. Gloria moved in with an oath, her small fingers tapping the panel madly.

  “Did you get that?” Zeno asked.

  Jon looked at Gloria. The mentalist’s eyes darted back and forth, as she studied the panel. Gloria shrugged.

  “I’m not sure,” Jon said.

  “I hope you did, because—”

  Jon stared at the com speaker, waiting for the rest of the message.

  “Thing,” a different, harsher voice said. “Are you still listening?”

  Jon and Gloria looked at each other.

  “Don’t answer,” Gloria said.

  “Thing, Cronus asked you as question.”

  “I hear you,” Jon said, tapping the com panel.

  “Ah. You are real then. I had wondered if you were a void figment. Yes. I will draw you in. I think you do not understand this realm well. You think you are safe behind your reality field. That is false. Soon, you will be my guests.”

  “What are you, Cronus?” asked Jon.

  “A paradox, an absurdity, an irony and a contradiction of reality.”

  “What kind of answer is that?”

  “You will find that I demand answers. If they are not forthcoming… You must already realize the truth. I am sure Lugo Malagate has run to you Kames for relief.”

  “What?” Jon asked, glancing at his wife.

  Gloria cut the connection.

  “What are you doing?” Jon said.

  “Cronus just made a mistake,” Gloria said, “giving us too much information. Let’s use that. Come. Let’s talk to Malagate and find out what’s happening.”

  Jon barely hesitated before nodding, getting up and heading for the bridge exit.

  -6-

  Jon and Gloria found Lugo in his quarters. The man was barely breathing and did not respond to any touching, shaking or light slaps.

  “He’s in a coma,” Gloria declared.

  Jon was already on his com unit.

  A medical team rushed Lugo to medical, monitoring him carefully. The medics soon concurred with Gloria’s analysis.

  “How about brain activity?” asked Jon. “We know he has some kind of extrasensory talent. Maybe he’s using it while unconscious.”

  The medics hooked Lugo to a brain scanner.