If one of us fails, we all do…

Mac stood still as behind him Keran shut the massive tika door with a dull thud. In Mac’s arms, little Sanalin—already mobile and exhibiting motor control far beyond what one would expect of a baby her age—craned her neck to peer at Keran; and back at her father’s face with a look of curious consciousness. Then her head whipped around with alarming speed on a neck that could not possibly support such a movement. Mac’s right hand jerked instinctively to protect his daughter—only to find Naela grinning at him from across the room, where she sat, nursing Sanalin’s identical-twin sister, Eeona, whose lusty sucking had attracted Sanalin’s attention.

“Wait your turn,” Mac told his daughter.

Sanalin paid him no attention and continued to crane her neck to observe her sister.

Mac adjusted her position in his arms and allowed himself to consider those present; all of them now regarding him attentively—with the exception of Tahlia’s infant, Tellam, who was sound asleep in his mother’s arms; and his own daughters, who were far too concerned with matters of import only to themselves.

As are we all. But what we do here also determines the fate of many more, who will never know.

He had to rely on them completely:

Falcon and the Aslatrix, Teris.

Sander and Evadne, who ruled Tergan and carried Restorers inside their bodies.

Armist and Tahlia of Keaen; the latter likewise ‘infected’, as had been their son while still being carried to term.

Pandrak, Armist’s father and his lover, the Sareen Zygie.

Keran, standing guard at the door; a man with a fierce loyalty to Sander, and Evadne by implication.

Sedee, a dark-haired, olive-skinned beauty; who was a Sareen and, according to Teris, who had known her from their time of incarceration in the dungeons of Castle Bryst, the most likely to be of a disposition to perform to what might be the most difficult and crucial role in the drama that was about to unfold.

Daveed, one of Mac’s oldest friends, former brother-in-law and genetic ‘uncle’ to Sanalin and Eeona. Like to Falcon and Mac himself an ‘alien’—and a ‘nanomite’ to boot. Yet no less determined to do what he could to ensure that the Authority did not lay a hand on this world.

Naela, Mac’s spouse; the Sareen who had not just carried his daughter’s embryo to term, but had somehow crated two human beings where there had been only one; and who had indelibly imprinted her mark on both their children. Sanalin and Eeona looked so much like Naela already that it was difficult to credit that their genetic material was that of a woman long dead. Before Gaston Huil arrived here, Mac would perform a long-overdue genetic analysis of the twins. He had a notion that he was going to be in for surprises. Nothing on this world was ever quite what it seemed—even though superficially its people were as ordinary and human as anywhere.

Notable by her absence was Ailin, who had left Tethys a while ago, to, as she had declared, “look around this big universe we live in”. Mac wondered where she was now. What she was—or had become, after Caitlan’s death. It was not something he understood. Not yet. Maybe never.

“I could just kill him,” Falcon said to Mac.

Mac took a deep breath, catching a whiff of his daughter’s scents; a mix of exudations of ‘infant’ and another of something babies did without inhibitions, and probably would for as long as the human species reproduced in the accustomed manner.

“You will not,” Mac said firmly.

“I can’t believe he’s actually going to bring a Tiger with him!” Falcon muttered. “It’s like holding up a sign, announcing his intentions.”

Mac chuckled. “He knows we know he knows we know he knows…”

“Mac—“ Falcon started.

Mac shook his head, and his friend and comrade fell silent.

“It is the only way,” Mac told them, “and it is the most dangerous. Yet this is the only path that will enable us to do what we have to.”

“He will know,” Naela said lowly. “I’ve looked into his eyes. He will know—and he hates us.”

“Indeed,” Mac agreed. “And we will never encounter a more formidable adversary. A man who rises to the position of Controller of the Authority does so because he is more skilled in intrigue than all of us taken together. He must also be an egomaniac and the ultimate opportunist.”

“Nothing new there,” grated Falcon.

“But,” Mac continued, “he does not possess—he cannot possess!—something we have. Those of us who are gathered here…”

They all looked at him askance—excepting Naela, who of course, knew; if for no other reason but that they had spoken of this before not so long ago.

“You really believe this!” she had said.

“I do,” he’d told her. “And I must. Because without it nothing’s worth fighting for.”

“You’re talking about loyalty, aren’t you?” Falcon said. “And trust and honor and friendship and love and all that.” He shook his head, grinning. “Mac, you’re a romantic.”

“Look who’s talking!” Mac retorted.

“I—” Falcon fell silent.

Teris leaned close and whispered something into his ear. Falcon made a sheepish face, but didn’t seem too put out by whatever Teris had said to him.

“But he’s right,” Mac said to them all, “for that is all we have. No matter how this game plays out, and when the darkest moments come our way—as they will!—these are the things one loses when one becomes one of the Gaston Huils of the universe, and they are the ones that will see us through because we will not lose them.”

“Just one thing, Mac,” Falcon said. “When this is done—and if we win—he’s mine.”

“I must be able to look him in the eye and tell him that he will not be harmed in any way,” Mac said. “And I must be able to do so without either Gaston Huil himself or the sensory eval unit he will no doubt have integrated into his brain by now finding the slightest cause to doubt my statement.”

“And I give you my word of honor that I will not cause harm or injury to come to him—none but that which he’ll inflict upon himself.”

Mac nodded. “Good enough. No doubt you have your plans, but I don’t want to know them.” He looked around at the others. “If you lie to him, he will know. This is a certainty. Remember that at all times. Therefore, if you lie, lie knowing that you do and only if his knowing that you lie serves your and our purpose.

“He will, of course, expect such behavior, and indeed expect that I have instructed you as I have. But he will not expect our strength and resolve. And he must not—and I mean he must not!— ever understand the full extent of the loyalty Falcon spoke of. Gaston Huil will expect a degree of unity-of-purpose, but he also regards Tethys as a backward place, far below the level of the refined civilization he considers himself a part of. Meaning he’ll think of you as simple, unsophisticated, and capable of planning only in limited tactical terms.

“Allow him to maintain that belief. And never ever under any circumstances say anything, not even in your most private moments and even in places where you simply know you could not be overheard, that might suggest that there is a plan of ‘strategic’ scope. Never fail to assume—for the assumption is more likely to be correct than not—that he will be cognizant of whatever you say and do.

“And remember the basic rule of this game, which is that whatever we do, it must be in appropriate response to what he does and yet it must never appear that the response actually is appropriate. He must sense resistance, plots, intrigues, schemes to defeat and counter him—yet at all times he must think that he is actually on the offensive and that he is winning; and that we don’t know that we’re losing. And the more he wins, the more he must lose, without ever knowing that he does. Until the final moment, when we must allow him his moment of triumph, however he achieves it. For only if he triumphs does he lose.”

“And then he is mine,” Falcon said.

“Then he is yours.”

A moment of silence. Mac could see them pondering their assigned roles in the drama that would soon be played out here and across Tethys.

“Falcon and Teris will drop him off here, leave immediately again, decon the ship and continue with their mission.”

And protect my family.

Mac glanced at his friend and then at Naela.

How I will miss them.

“We won’t be able to communicate until this is over.”

Falcon inclined his head.

Sanalin finally got bored with staring at her nursing sister and turned to face Mac. One tiny hand reached out to grab the tip of his nose and took a firm hold on it as she uttered little baby sounds.

Laughter rippled through the circle of friends and co-conspirators.

Mac, gently detached the hand from his nose and tut-tutted his daughter, who now leaned against his shoulder and wriggled herself into a comfortable lying position, with her face tucked into the side of his neck.

“Best of luck to us all,” Mac said to the others as he rubbed his daughter’s back and she made little sounds of contentment.

Eeona chose the moment to detach herself from her mother’s breast with a loud sucking sound and looked almost accusingly at her father.

Naela chuckled and rearranged her blouse.

“She’s had her fill of me,” she told Mac. “Now she, too, wants you.”

“It’s nice to be wanted,” Mac said.

He glanced at Sedee, who gave him a tiny nod.

“I will not fail you,” she said quietly.

“We know,” Naela said to her.

Evadne put an arm around the Sareen’s shoulders.

“We know,” she affirmed.

Naela rose and carried Eeona over to where Mac stood. Sanalin lifted her head and looked on as Naela draped Eeona across Mac’s other shoulder and stood back, hands on hips, smiling.

Behind Naela, Falcon chuckled.

“Shut up,” Mac told him.

How I will miss them.