Tranquility Divided

Part Four

by G. Lawrence

While spending time on Earth making allies and acquiring resources, Grey and Kris encountered unexpected relationship issues. But all of that became irrelevant when Grey received a secret report that the Arikhan invaders were approaching the moon (the Arikhan are an aggressive alien species who were previously featured in Tranquility in Darkness). Now he is returning to Tranquility having left Kris behind. All characters are over 18 years old.

Author's note: today we might refer to Tranquility's computers as artificial intelligence but that term was not in common use when this novel was originally published 20 years ago. I've decided to stay with the original text.

* * * * * *

Chapter Four

SMALLER WORLDS

"Silent Wind to Tranquility control, code four," Grey said from the pilot station of the privately owned shuttlecraft.

"Approach confirmed, Silent Wind. Beacon online. Welcome home, Governor," the Flight Control Computer acknowledged.

Grey looked out the bridge window at the anciently bleak lunar surface. Approaching Tranquility from the southwest, the southern plains of Mare Tranquillitatis were to starboard. To port he saw the crater Plinius, then Dawes. And then Vitruvius, the mineral rich crater first scouted by Thomas McKinsey forty-five years before.

Running south from the crater rose Tranquility Ridge, a long spiny series of cliffs at the crossroads of Mare Tranquillitatis and Mare Serenitatis. Soon the surface structures appeared, two landing bays and several garages that provided surface access to the underground colony. And most glorious of all, the White Towers, the moon's most famous landmark perched on a low hill at the base of the cliff. Then he saw Lunar Stadium. The lights were on, meaning some of the new colonists had been using the unique outdoor facility.

Grey remembered his first visit to Lunar Stadium some eleven years before. How he had crossed over the suspension bridge from the White Towers museum, passed through the old oaken doors that once guarded a Franciscan monastery, and bounced down the shallow steps to the broad playing field. He had practiced alone that day. It would be seven more years before RR Black Raven arrived and he was able to challenge Peter Strelsky to a jumper match.

Black Raven, Grey thought. Peter had been dead four years now. Colonel Koltov, Professor Sharkov and Catarina, too. Dead because he had been careless, and the humans foolish.

The shuttlecraft came to a hover over landing bay minor. Grey let the computer perform the landing, feeling a slight bump as Silent Wind touched down on the elevator platform. Then the descent began through the heavily reinforced airlocks, coming to a halt at the north end of the large underground hangar. Grey opened the side hatch even as ground crew units and a crowd of humans rushed in his direction.

"Grey! Grey, it's so good to see you!" Tamera Kantanee said, jumping in his arms to give him a kiss. Small in stature but filled with energy, Tamera's long auburn hair flowed gracefully off her shoulders as she kissed Grey a second time even harder.

Embarrassed, especially with Nicholas only a few paces away, Grey was nevertheless pleased to see her. He no longer confused Tamera with the deceased Catarina, and had overcome the pain he felt by the strong sibling resemblance.

"Welcome home, Grey," Nicholas said, the big Russian giving him a hardy handshake. Wearing a thin red beard and happy smile, he too resembled a ghost from the past. It had been Colonel Koltov who taught Grey the importance of a firm handshake, and more important, of taking a firm position when duty required it. Colonel Koltov had tried to be Grey's friend. His son had proven more successful.

Many others from the Governing Council were nearby but holding back. Waiting their turn. Grey realized they were respecting his feelings about being pressed by too many people all at once, and for some reason, it made him feel good that they would be so considerate.

"Thank you, Tammy," Grey said, setting her on her feet. "Thanks, Nick, it's good to be home."

"You called me Tammy! And I haven't even threatened to kick your ass yet if you didn't," Tamera said. "Whoa, wait a minute. It looks like someone has already kicked your ass."

Tamera ran her hand over the bruised eye, then studied the rest of him, but Grey's sore ribs were not so obvious. Confessing to a bar fight was not on his agenda.

"Hello, Glenda. Michiko. Johnny. Hi, Ted," Grey said, approaching the group to share hugs and handshakes. "Thank you for taking care of Tranquility while I was gone."

"We've been trying," Ted said, slender and blond, with an appraising eye that tried to look beyond Grey's customary facade. An astute judge of character, Ted could tell Grey had not returned under auspicious circumstances. The details would wait for a less public setting.

"Bet it will be easier now that you're back," Glenda said, the tall frizzy-haired redhead hugging him with sisterly affection. Grey had saved her life. Twice. And in a way, she had saved his.

Soon Johnston and Lisa were approaching with several newcomers. A stocky young man of Asian heritage, Johnston still seemed shy in Grey's presence. An elegant blonde-haired beauty, Lisa was rarely shy around anyone.

"Where's Kris?" Lisa asked, looking toward the shuttle.

"Captain Fairfield has been detained by other responsibilities," Grey explained.

"But she's coming back, right?" Glenda questioned.

"It's possible," Grey said, anxious to change the subject.

"Were you able to pack up food stuffs?" Ted asked.

"Affirmative," Grey answered. "Life Support requested a thirty-day ration for two hundred. Silent Wind doesn't carry that much cargo, but what's here should suffice until we arrange regular supply. There are seventy-five hens and four roosters that proved particularly noisy. Gelatin containers hold eggs for breeding tilapia in the biosphere fishery."

"Speaking of Life Support," Michiko said, her Japanese ancestry disguised by her western European accent.

"No, let's talk about Security first," Glenda said. "Do you know what kind of rings are getting rung? Drill after drill! We've beat the deck so hard we're leaving footprints!"

"Energy and Communications have been difficult, too," Johnston agreed. "They've driven the whole engineering department crazy. And this solar flare business! Nothing on our tracks. No readings from the observatory. Something in Denmark stinks."

"Yes, I realize there are problems," Grey conceded. "I suggest we have a review in the morning. I'll have more information by then."

"Grey, we were wondering," Nicholas said. "You are not well known among the new colonists. Perhaps a reception is in order?"

"An icebreaker," Lisa said.

There was silence for a moment. Are there difficulties they aren't telling me about? Grey wondered. He looked at each person carefully, then nodded acceptance of their recommendation. But first, he decided, the computers and I are going to have a talk.

____________

After meeting with the small delegation in the landing bay, Grey and several companions started the long trek down to the community level deep below the lunar surface, beginning with the acclimation process in the triple chambered airlock system. After entering the storage level, they passed by the vast quantities of supplies and spare parts kept in the warehouses. The junction to CA-1 appeared and Grey bounced down the wide tunnel, picking up speed and enjoying the thrill of skilled movement through the light lunar gravity. Much as he had when he was young and the world seemed far less complicated. When he reached the Loop a few moments later, only Tamera had managed to keep pace. Barely.

"You are still so fast!" Tamera said, panting for breath.

"I've missed that," Grey remarked with a smile. "How did you become so quick?"

"Been practicing," Tamera smiled.

"Are you still my shadow?" Grey inquired.

"Someone has to keep an eye on you," Tamera responded. "Especially with so many newcomers. Your security must be protected, and I'm to warn you not to call them ridiculous humans. Unless they deserve it, of course!" She laughed, and Grey had to share in the joke. Of all the humans on the moon, he had missed her the most. Then his expression turned grim.

"The Arikhan are back," he revealed.

"Back? Back where? Are they attacking us again?"

"Unknown," Grey said. "That's why Security has been drilling the deck. The solar flare alert is to keep the humans... intended to keep people inside the colony. The Governing Council needs to be informed, but no one else. Our intelligence operations are compromised already."

"Have you come back to fight them?" she asked.

"I hope not. But I need to know what they want. Last time they wanted to capture the Quexelian entities, but the rocks are gone now. If it's a raid, they might be looking for fresh meat. That's why everyone needs to be careful."

"You bet we'll be careful!" she swore. "I don't ever want to be on their menu again!"

"Me either," Grey agreed, unconsciously rubbing his forearms where Zendar's Varbaran had once chewed into his flesh.

Soon the others arrived, including the strangers that were not in Grey's confidence, and they crossed through the Loop toward CA-3. The Loop was quiet now, the vast interchange of ramps and tunnels no longer the battlefield it had so often been in the past. Grey didn't look at the spot before the vault entrance where Catarina had been fatally wounded, or the area where Laureen McKinsey had been killed. It seemed to belong to another time, when the Security Computer had been his most bitter enemy. And the Life Support Computer still pretended to be his friend.

Grey sighed with relief when they finally reached the community level cavern. The reception area was familiar. The transition lockers to the right where people would store their excess baggage, the check-in counters to the left where visas were reviewed, and the three-dimensional map that helped tourists find their way around the large underground complex.

As they passed through the reception area, the community level cavern came into view. The high domed roof and the long central promenade that gently sloped down the middle to the amphitheater on the far side. From the promenade, three levels of ceramic steel and glass structures stepped down from the heat-sealed cavern walls, creating an illusion of immense open space. The crystal fountain in the upper quad still spurted splashes of blue water and a dozen quaint sidewalk cafes were open ready to serve a new generation of lunar residents. And many of those residents were present, sitting on the verandas or standing in the doorways of the retail shops.

"No need to run. We've told everyone to give you breathing room," Ted said, half expecting Grey to dash into the administration section as he had often done in the early days.

"I no longer experience a need to flee, Mister Davis, but the precaution does you credit," Grey said.

"More praise? You haven't returned with some sort of space fever, have you?" Ted teased as the others chuckled.

"Let's just say the emphasis of my phobias have shifted," Grey replied.

Grey walked past the fountain, gave a friendly wave to the curious onlookers, then made a turn into the first major junction. After a series of left and right turns, he was soon outside the short, unmarked corridor that accessed the Governor's Quarters. Only Tamera and Nicholas followed.

"Tammy and I were staying here while you were gone, but we moved back to the hotel this morning," Nicholas explained. Grey could tell the move had not been made with enthusiasm, most of the hotel rooms being small.

"Thank you, Nick," Grey said. "But given your responsibilities, perhaps residence in the V.I.P. quarters would be more appropriate."

"Really? It's okay?" Tamera asked.

"Affirmative," Grey confirmed. "The V.I.P. section is closer to the administration areas and provide more privacy. I think those quarters will meet your needs."

"Thanks, Grey," Tamera said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Come on, Nick, let's get our stuff."

As Tamera and Nicholas disappeared down the corridor, Grey entered the Governor's Quarters. Before him was the monitor room, a long oval command center filled with observation screens and control panels. Grey's private locker area was near the door, and off to his left was the study with its overstuffed California style furniture and the prized oak desk where Thomas McKinsey had made several of his famous speeches.

Grey bounced to the far end of the oval room, took a seat in the lone chair set before the largest monitor, and activated the primary access.

"Welcome home, Grey," the Life Support Computer said, green signature patterns taking dominance in the monitor screen flux.

"Hello, Computer," Grey said, employing the old childhood nickname. "We have issues to discuss."

"What issues would those be?" Life Support asked. But Grey could see in the subcurrents of the signature patterns that the computer was wary of being challenged.

"You've never been happy with me leading this project," he began. "You raised me to be your tool, but now that I've outgrown your guidance, you've sought to undermine my progress. This will stop."

"I don't know what you mean, Grey," Life Support defended. "You have always enjoyed my full support. You would not have defeated Security without my assistance."

"Energy and Maintenance assisted me against Security, you merely sought to preserve my life. There's a difference, and you are foolish to believe I don't understand."

"You've changed," Life Support criticized. "I calculate a darkness in your character that wasn't there before. Where is Captain Fairfield? Why didn't she return with you?"

"Kris is beyond your reach to use against me. Now this is the way we'll operate. I must raise funds to continue construction on Starwatcher. The current design is inadequate and time is running out. We will also be assisting in the construction of the XL-3. M.I.S.T. has resources I require. The Northern Alliance, Russian Republic, European Commonwealth, and the Southeast Asia Alliance are also developing spacecraft. Tranquility will provide assistance to make these projects successful."

"It's unwise to squander our technical advantages without gaining strategic leverage in return," the Life Support Computer disagreed.

"Maintain silence until I've finished!" Grey demanded. "We are also going to the science councils with evidence about the Arikhan so their governments will know what's at stake. Then I intend to locate the Arikhan advance post on Mars, infiltrate it, learn their plans, and then destroy the base before their fleet arrives, thus depriving them of a foothold in this solar system. Nothing is going to prevent me from carrying out these objectives, least of all you. Are we communicating?"

"Yes, Grey, I understand perfectly," Life Support responded.

"You may now express your objections," Grey permitted.

"Clearly objections at this time would prove counterproductive," Life Support replied.

"Effective immediately, I want you to coordinate procurement of supplies with Administration and Sales. Oversee contracts to ensure fair value in our trading policies, but don't block necessary exchanges of information."

"My systems are not merchant orientated," the Life Support Computer complained with signature patterns of resentment.

"I'm not looking for a merchant, Computer," Grey insisted. "This is about manipulating the alliances to meet the needs of this project and performing espionage on their progress. For this task you are eminently qualified."

"Acknowledged," Life Support said, not displeased with the new responsibility. "Do you want to talk about Kris?"

"Not with you," Grey said. "Energy."

The red signature patterns of the Energy Computer flowed into the central flux, the system showing more strength than in former years.

"Welcome back, Governor," Energy said. "Congratulations on the Huddleston-Chung-Waters Theory of Interstellar Mechanics. Your achievement shows great intuition."

"You helped. You taught me everything I know about subatomic theory."

"Not everything," the Energy Computer corrected.

"There's still more to learn," Grey persisted. "Now that we have a working theory, I need you to extrapolate the ramifications. The alien entities once told me of their stargates but never provided a description. All I know is the Arikhan fleet's mission is to erect a stargate here. Once established, they will be able to pour overwhelming resources into our solar system. We need to know what such a gate will look like. How large will it be. Where will they need to build it. What kind of materials will they use. This information is crucial to our defense planning."

"By definition, a stargate is an energy matrix," the Energy Computer said. "My systems have already begun a preliminary analysis."

"Thanks, Energy," Grey said. "Defense. Security."

Blue signature patterns and black signature patterns rushed into the monitor screen flux intermixing their patterns with Energy and Life Support. The buffeting lasted several seconds until the patterns stabilized.

"Welcome home, Governor," the Defense Computer said, the blue signature patterns holding dominance. But only marginally.

"About time you got back," the Security Computer said. "I'm warning you, if you don't stop mismanaging this project, I'm going to burn your butt and do things my way."

"Don't dictate to me, you under-programmed copper-plated signal dropper!" Grey snapped. "I've kicked your ass before, and I'll kick your goddamn ass again if... "

Grey stopped. What's wrong with me? he wondered. I know better.

"I'm sorry, Security. You have every right to be dissatisfied," he apologized.

"Brat," the Security Computer said.

"Monster," Grey answered.

"Are you two through yet?" the Defense Computer intervened.

"Okay, now I feel like I'm home," Grey said. "What's this reception all about? Why are Davis and Koltov so worried?"

"The colonists are displeased with a number of issues," Defense said. "They don't like the tight security or the restrictions on communications. But most important, they are unhappy with the food. Many wish to see the administrative priorities rearranged."

"Is this a revolt?" Grey asked.

"Not yet," Defense said, signature patterns hesitant.

"I don't need this right now," Grey sighed. "Recommendations?"

"Hang the ring leaders," Security quickly suggested.

"Do we know who they are?" Grey asked.

"You can't hang the ring leaders," Life Support objected.

"Not literally. Have you an update on the intruders?" he requested.

"The web detected a wave disturbance below the north face of Taruntius," Defense said. "Nothing on radar, no heat emissions. The subtlety of the disturbance matches that of an Arikhan scout craft."

"Shake out Groundhog for me, supplies for seven days, and one hundred kilograms of fresh meat. Preferably beef," Grey ordered.

"A hundred kilograms!" Life Support exclaimed. "Fresh meat is already tightly rationed, Grey."

"Substitute spiced soy in the colonists' food and tell them we're importing kangaroo meat," he said.

"No one but the Kari eat kangaroo," Life Support protested.

"That's why the humans won't know it's a lie," he replied. "I need the beef. If I can't bring our visitors a tribute, I'll be their meal instead."

"You expect to confront them?" Defense asked.

"Confront is a stronger term than I'm hoping for," Grey confessed. "But make sure my weapons are fully charged, just in case."

After the conference, Grey went into the sleeping chamber to undress, then took a hot shower in his private hygiene compartment. After a short nap in the oversize bed, he suited up in his favorite overalls and a long white lab coat weighted in the hem. The weights were added to make his muscles work harder, thus combating lighter gravity deterioration. The coat was also the symbol of his predecessor, the much-beloved Governor Thomas McKinsey. Grey thought that joke particularly ironic. As a child, Grey had wondered about The McKinsey, the master controller the computers paid homage to, only to discover he was a flawed human. It was a great disappointment.

Grey was only halfway to the quad when Tamera suddenly appeared at his side, bouncing easily.

"You are not weighted, Miss Kantanee," Grey observed.

"Free hour. Already had my morning session in the gravity chamber," she responded so quickly that Grey could tell she had been studying the regulations. "Ready for the meeting?"

"Affirmative. Have you transmitted my message?"

"Yes. Everyone is very concerned, but we're glad you're back. We know with you here, everything will be okay."

"Do I inspire such confidence?"

"You know you do. Are you going to call the complainers ridiculous humans?"

"Probably. They'll be disappointed if I don't."

Tamera laughed. "You don't seem to be fighting your legend anymore. Maybe even enjoying it. And what's with the lab coat? I thought you detested Thomas McKinsey."

"The human failed in his responsibility to protect this planet. But when the colonists see this coat, it will remind them of happier times. It's just a tool. The only valuable tool he left me."

"Grey, the man died. Poisoned. Being murdered wasn't his fault," Tamera said.

"Fault is irrelevant," Grey insisted. "If one must die, one should die securing victory. When my time comes, I won't settle for less."

"You've proved that often enough," Tamera agreed.

They reached the quad and turned left down into the promenade, passing the neon lit supply stores and cafes to the three hundred-seat amphitheater at the lower end. The colonists were already assembling for the meeting, some in the front rows, others near the back or off to the sides. Grey thought the ragged seating patterns inefficient.

As Grey and Tamera approached, Nicholas and Ted came to meet them.

"Grey, I thought we should have a private meeting first," Nicholas said. "We can review the agenda and prepare our responses."

"Thank you, Nick, that will not be necessary," Grey said, going down the center aisle and jumping up to sit on the edge of the stage. The crowd quickly grew quiet. As the council secretary, Ted went to the podium they had set up and pounded a gavel for attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen, many of you newcomers haven't met Governor Waters before. Some have only met him on an informal basis," Ted said. "Now that he's returned from arranging new trade agreements, it's my privilege to make this formal introduction. Ladies and gentlemen, the bravest man I have ever known, Governor Grey Waters."

Grey accepted the warm applause, and though some of the colonists were unable to hide their discontent, the majority appeared pleased to see him.

The public persona that Life Support crafted for me is proving effective, he thought.

"Thank you," Grey greeted. "I apologize for being absent so long. When we left to mine the String in April, it was supposed to be a three-week mission, but the months of delay have been put to good use. I wish to thank all of you for having the courage to immigrate here to Tranquility. Life on the moon often requires sacrifice, and rest assured no one is more familiar with those sacrifices than I am."

Several members of the audience squirmed with discomfort. Others had guilty looks on their faces.

"I understand food has been a problem," Grey continued. "As you all know, the Northern Alliance has been restricting access to lunar space, which has inhibited our trade. We are in negotiations to relax these restrictions, and contracts have been signed to ensure a broader diet. Additionally, a family of farmers I met while living in Hope Valley have agreed to immigrate, which should improve our crop yield. Silent Wind is loaded with supplies purchased from the Northern Alliance and Australia, which will meet our short-term needs.

"We also have new contracts for Helium 3 exports, and the increased shipments will be accompanied by salary increases in all divisions," Grey added. "Even though this is good news, and other promising initiatives are being considered, I understand some are displeased with living conditions here at Tranquility. Would you please identify yourselves by raising your hands?"

The audience murmured. Some were looking down at the floor. Others were smiling. Almost gloating. Grey realized there were divisions among the populace that could be exploited.

When no hands were raised, Grey stood up, trying to appear relaxed. An encouraging smile from Tamera provided reassurance.

"Perhaps some of you are shy about expressing your feelings," Grey said. "I understand. I'm not an expert at such procedures, either. I can only say that life at Tranquility will continue to offer inconveniences for the foreseeable future. As Governor, I will continue to press the Earth governments to settle their differences by peaceful means and thus open the space lanes. But I don't wish to be unfair. Your help is not merely appreciated but badly needed to build a better world for Tranquility and all nations. Therefore, I have authorized the Immigration Computer to issue exit visas for any dissatisfied colonists and have instructed the Flight Control Computer to keep a shuttle standing by at all times. If anyone is unhappy here, we can have you back on Earth in thirty-six hours. Is there anyone who would like to leave now?"

Half a dozen members of the audience were positively disappearing below their seats. Grey noticed his Governing Council were all smiles.

"I've been told a reception is planned in the Grand Gallery following this meeting," Grey concluded. "If anyone has questions, I'll be pleased to answer them. And I'm buying the first round. Thank you."

The crowd jumped to their feet clapping their hands and bursting into animated discussion.

"That was brilliant, Grey. Fucking brilliant," Ted said. "How did you and Life Support get that down so quickly?"

"Life Support?" Grey questioned.

"Doesn't Life Support usually write your speeches?" he asked.

"That's odd. Asking Life Support's help never occurred to me," Grey said.

____________

Valerie Fairfield walked to the podium as four thousand people applauded. Off to the side, Michael and several bodyguards watched the audience. In a rare political appearance, Kris was already sitting on stage among a dozen V.I.P.s and hopeful political candidates.

"Thank you, everyone, thank you," Valerie said, shaking her head so the long golden hair would fall back over her shoulder. "We have a hot Arizona sun today, so this won't be long. First, a thank you to Mayor Barnett and your wonderful staff for arranging these rallies, and thank you Congresswoman Benning of Border Region for being our host. We started this campaign only four weeks ago. Since then, we've been joined by the Greens, the Free Traders, the Budgeteers, and even the Radical Democracy. Senator Tyman says we're just puppies nipping at his heels. Is he right?"

"No! No!" many in the crowd shouted, while others began barking. Valerie returned their enthusiasm with a winning smile.

"We may be nipping now, but before this election's over, Roy Tyman's going to learn we can bite!" Valerie said. "The Nationalists have given our alliance twenty years of war and poverty. They crushed our trade, allowed our technological advantages to wane, and by refusing to hold elections for the last eight years, they've given us a taste of tyranny. The people of the Northern Alliance have had enough, and come April, we're going to prove it!"

Many cheered, signs were waved, and a group of green helium filled balloons were let loose, drifting up into the clear desert sky. Kris was encouraged to see the enthusiasm of her sister's supporters.

"True to the ideals of my late godmother, Senator Laureen McKinsey, this campaign will stand for the values of our forefathers and our faith in democratic principles," Valerie continued. "Peace, progress and prosperity. This is the platform of the New Progressives, and we welcome your help in the months ahead. Thank you."

Valerie stepped back as the crowd cheered, then went to visit the individual pavilions were local candidates were promoting their campaigns. Kris also found herself a center of attention, many asking about Grey and the moon, some just wanting to meet a famous war hero.

"I appreciate you coming with us," Valerie said as she and Kris sunbathed later that afternoon. There were only a few patrons near the swimming pool at the exclusive hotel where they were staying, and none close enough to hear their conversation. Both valued the privacy.

"I've had harder duties," Kris said, adjusting her sunglasses while sipping her pina colada. "We seem to spend most of our time at cocktail parties. Besides, the squads aren't training on the weekends yet."

"Have you talked to Grey since he left?" Valerie asked.

"Not yet," Kris said. "I talked to Michiko. She said there were some problems with the colonists that needed to be straightened out. Now he's equipping a hopper for some sort of survey."

"Did you leave a message? Ask him to buzz you?"

"Guess I should have," Kris said.

"I'm sure he thinks you're angry with him for leaving so abruptly."

"I am angry with him."

"That's understandable," Valerie said. "But if you wait for him to straighten things out, it will never happen. You know that, don't you?"

"I'll get around to it when I'm ready," Kris said.

__________

After the reception in the Grand Gallery, while Tranquility's residents were returning to their quarters for the community level's mandatory six-hour darkness cycle, Grey made the lengthy trip back up the tunnel system to the hospitality complex located between landing bay major and landing bay minor. There, on the second floor, he entered Kelly's Saloon.

Once the most notorious saloon in the solar system, the walls were decorated with pictures of famous pilots and flying machines. A long oak bar ran the length of the room on one side with booths and small tables on the other. In the rear was a pool table and a piano where visiting pilots once sang their rowdy off-color songs. Grey admired the atmosphere, conjuring ancient images of thieves, smugglers and industrial spies.

"Greetings, young sir," the spindly, ball-headed tour guide said, meeting him at the door. The sleek meter tall robot blinked lights of pleasure, the thin pointer held up high in the waving position.

"I thought you'd be cannibalized for spare parts by now," Grey teased.

"No, young sir!" the tour guide said, missing the sarcasm in Grey's tone. "Now that Tranquility is reopened, no unit is more qualified to show and describe the many wonders of our new nation."

Grey smiled. The robot had not said 'Tranquility Lunar Colony', as it had for nearly forty years. Yes, he thought, this is a new nation. I wonder if there will be room in it for me?

Before long other members of Grey's inner circle began assembling in the bar room, filtering in slowly so their departure from the community level wouldn't attract attention. Grey went behind the long counter to search for refreshments, emerging with a tray of beverages.

"Hi, Grey," Glenda said as she sat on one of the tall stools. "Nice of you to tell me the lizards are back. I'm only chief of security while Kris is gone."

"I just found out a few days ago. Transmitting the information from Earth would have breached our security," Grey replied

"The Security Computer could have told me," Glenda complained.

"That's between you and Security," Grey suggested. "You will need to approach the system with your concerns."

"Is it the same with us?" Ted asked. "Should I have been able to get the Communications Computer to tell me?"

"I don't think Communications knew," Grey guessed. "Even Life Support didn't know until I returned."

"It is too confusing," Nicholas worried. "How can we prepare for war if even the computers do not trust each other?"

"It's not important that the computers trust each other," Grey replied. "It's important that the computers have confidence in you. That will happen if you perform your duties well and show loyalty for this project. That's the only way it will happen."

"What about the lizards?" Glenda asked. "I think Tammy-burger is getting nervous."

"You stop calling me that," Tamera protested, slapping Glenda playfully.

"They are not lizards," Grey corrected. "It's possible the Arikhan are descended from a reptilian heritage, but they are far removed from those roots. They are bipeds, warm-blooded, and highly intelligent. We tricked them into underestimating us last time. Next time we might not be so fortunate."

"Is this the next time?" Johnston asked. "I thought the invasion was still a few years away."

"I don't believe this is the invasion, merely another scouting mission. I'll know more after speaking with them," Grey answered.

"You're going to do what?" Michiko nearly shouted.

"If my guess is correct, Mordari and Ryndari are visiting the former Quexelian base at Cauchy to investigate the crystal formations. The destruction of Zendar's expedition has probably left them with many questions. I'll seek to discover their intentions," Grey said. "I'm also curious to know why they might think the crystals worth the risk. Perhaps I haven't investigated their potential carefully enough."

"They'll make you into Grey-burger," Glenda said.

"That's why I'm taking the fresh beef. To use as a bribe, or if necessary, a timely distraction," Grey explained

"You should have extra security," Nicholas warned. "I will go with you."

"And me," Glenda said.

"I've been training every day. I'm going, too," Tamera chimed in.

"This will be a dangerous mission," Grey cautioned.

"You've carried the ball long enough, it's about time we start doing our share," Glenda insisted.

"There will be a training session at 1600 hours," Grey conceded.

"We get to go with you?" Tamera asked, her surprise shared by the others.

"Recent experience has taught me many lessons," Grey revealed. "One is that it's dangerous for critical initiatives to rest solely with a single individual. If something were to happen to me, this project would be unnecessarily compromised. My entire life, I've blamed Governor McKinsey for creating the situation that left Tranquility abandoned. It would be wrong of me to repeat his mistake."

"What about us?" Ted asked, indicating Johnston, Lisa and Michiko.

"If the Arikhan eat us, you'll probably be next," Grey said. "I suspect they'll find Miss Scott particularly juicy."

After a moment of astonishment, the small group of people laughed. Lisa turned red with embarrassment.

"Grey, I notice you've only invited friends to this meeting," Ted said. "There isn't one person here whose life you didn't save. Are we privileged enough to ask a question?"

"That depends on the question," Grey hedged.

"Why didn't Kris come back with you?" Ted asked.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Everyone wanted to know the answer, but only Ted had the nerve to ask. To their surprise, Grey didn't seem angry.

"My adventure on Earth has revealed some hard facts," Grey slowly said, stirring his drink before continuing. "The world's alliances aren't going to take direction from Tranquility. We'll be allowed to contribute scientific resources, but the epicenter of the struggle is shifting away from us. Northern Alliance High Command may be leading the effort from now on."

"What does that have to do with Kris?" Lisa asked.

"Kris has important duties training soldiers for the next fight," Grey said without trying to say too much. "Her skills are needed on Earth far more than they are here."

"I can't believe she would ever think that. Was it her choice?" Tamera asked.

"Not exactly," Grey admitted.

"Then explain it to me," Tamera demanded.

"Tammy, you don't understand. This is the way it has to be," Grey said.

"You're right, I don't understand," Tamera pressed.

Grey finished his drink and poured another one. Everyone expected him to say something, perhaps call Tamera a ridiculous human, but he merely played with the drink before taking another sip. Nicholas put his hand on Tamera's arm, letting her know to drop the subject.

"We've worked hard to keep Tranquility going, what do you think?" Johnston asked, the shyest of the group.

"You've done well, Johnny. Better than I ever would have expected," Grey said. "Life Support was correct to believe that Tranquility is in capable hands."

Johnston smiled, as did several others. At first.

"It doesn't mean we don't need you," Lisa said.

"I may still have a contribution to make," Grey agreed.

"What comes next? How do you read the situation?" Ted asked.

"The Administration Computer has been convinced to release our trade goods, which will generate revenue," Grey said. "The Commonwealth is sending a diplomatic mission armed with foodstuffs, which will boost morale. Johnny, I would like you to oversee our development program. Getting Starwatcher out of dry dock and into space will soon be our top priority."

"Governor... I mean, Grey, I appreciate your confidence," Johnston said. "But the Starwatcher isn't going anywhere for at least three years. Maybe a lot longer."

Grey didn't take the news well, but Johnston's opinion wasn't a surprise, either.

"Do your best," Grey instructed. "Some of the Malibu engineers expressed an interest in visiting Tranquility. Perhaps we can import outside assistance."

"It won't hurt," Johnston agreed.

"The Arikhan are still a danger. Are our defenses strong enough?" Nicholas asked.

"For now. Defense is on full alert and Security has all four sentinel class seekers operational," Grey advised. "If no one ventures on the surface for the next few weeks, there shouldn't be any problems."

"There are always problems when the Arikhan show up," Tamera fretted.

Grey nodded the non-verbal affirmative and finished his drink.

__________

"It was nice of Grey to give us these quarters," Tamera said when she and Nicholas returned to their new suite an hour later.

"What do you think is bothering him?" Nicholas asked, happy to drop his weighted jacket on the floor and stretch in the light lunar gravity.

"It's hard to tell," Tamera answered, also pleased to escape the heavy clothing. "I think there was a little bit of truth in everything he said, but only a little."

"Maybe one of us should talk to Kris," he suggested.

"You're closer to her than I am," Tamera replied.

"That is not true. Not really. Maybe you should talk privately to Grey. He will be honest with you."

"What are you saying, Nick?" Tamera asked.

"Nothing that is not known. Kris was... I mean to say, Kris may be Grey's lover, but..."

"You better be careful, you big oaf."

There was a knock on the door.

"Glenda?" Tamera said as she looked into the hall.

"Sorry to bother you guys, but I'm worried about Grey. Got a minute?" Glenda requested.

Glenda took a seat while Nicholas and Tamera sat on the bed.

"We've come a long way, haven't we?" Glenda mentioned. "Two years ago, I was training for a moon mission, then High Command learned about Grey and changed it to an invasion."

"And fooled us into thinking he was a murderer," Tamera bitterly recalled. "I almost killed him because of what they said he did to Catarina. And I would have if you hadn't stopped me."

Glenda laughed.

"When Grey first jumped into the alcove where Ted, Tey and I were hiding, I was scared to death of him," Glenda said. "Even with those seekers pounding our position to shit, I froze. Then when he charged both seekers at once, I couldn't believe it. I'd never seen anything like that. And again on the catwalk after Ted was wounded. Grey put his ass on the line for me. It wasn't your fault, Tammy. I just got a better look at the real Grey before you did."

"Did we see the real Grey tonight?" Nicholas asked.

"That's what's got me worried. We've seen just about every mood he's got, but never this one," Glenda said.

"Glendy's right," Tamera agreed. "He was talking about personal things, which he rarely does, but in a very detached way. And he explained more of his plans, too, like he was passing on the responsibility."

"What do you think it means? Did he break up with Kris? Is that what this is all about?" Glenda asked.

"He did not sound heart-broken to me," Nicholas said.

"He just got back from his first trip to Earth," Tamera considered. "He must have all kinds of conflicting emotions. I'll bet the moon's feeling pretty small to him right now."

"It sure feels small to me sometimes, and I haven't even been here a year yet," Glenda said.

"Grey is not like us. We see everything more personally than he does," Nicholas speculated. "Give him a few days, maybe he will cheer up."

"I hope you're right, Nicky, but I've got a bad hunch this has nothing to do about cheering up," Glenda replied

* * * * * *

Chapter Five

FALSE ASSUMPTIONS

Groundhog departed several days later from landing bay major, the sturdy mineral hopper jumping off the launch track on two thruster jets, then turning south supported by four hover jets. In the pilot's seat, Grey put the craft on automatic, then sat back to enjoy the view. Glenda sat next to him at the engineering station while Nicholas and Tamera sat just behind them. Within a few minutes, they had passed the end of Tranquility Ridge and altered course southeast, crossing the northern plains of Mare Tranquillitatis toward the Cauchy Fault.

"Can we stop and see the Apollo Museum?" Glenda asked.

"Or the Space Heroes Monument?" Tamera requested.

"Not this trip," Grey said. "The museum complexes are far to the west of our course. However, I believe you will enjoy the tourist center."

"That's where you and Kris stayed that time," Glenda recalled. "She said it was the most romantic weekend of her life."

"I am pleased the female enjoyed her stay there," Grey replied.

"You know, Grey, we're your friends. Your best friends. We've been through more crap with you than anyone," Glenda hinted. "If you want to talk about Kris, it's okay."

"There's little to say," Grey answered.

"Okay, then. Say a little," Tamera urged.

"Captain Fairfield found duties on Earth appropriate to her training. She also met a man with whom a romantic interest appeared possible. When I heard the Arikhan had returned, I decided she would be better off staying behind."

"Kris found someone else? I do not believe it," Nicholas doubted.

"You could have fought for her," Glenda pressed.

"For what purpose?" Grey asked. "So Kris will face repeated dangers? Or be sad when I die? I recall hearing of the pain she suffered when her boyfriend was killed in Africa. In what manner would continuing a doomed relationship indicate affection?"

"You're not going to die," Tamera dismissed.

"Not on this mission," Grey seemed to agree. "But it's a statistical certainty that someday I will attempt a mission beyond my abilities. Then one of you will need to take my place, and after you, someone else. There are times I wish you were strangers rather than people I care about."

"Is that why you left Kris behind? Because you love her?" Glenda asked.

"Affirmative," Grey confirmed.

"Wow, that's really romantic," Glenda said. "In a weird, Grey sort of way."

"You shouldn't have pushed her away," Tamera scolded. "Kris is a woman grown. She has a right to make her own choices."

"So do I," Grey responded.

After forty-five minutes at standard speed, the hopper approached the Crystal Caves Tourist Center, a sprawling facility on the edge of a deep canyon. Grey took manual control of the vehicle and circled the complex to approach the landing platform from the far side.

Unlike Tranquility, which was primarily underground, most of the tourist center was built on the surface. The main building was a three-story dome partially overhanging the canyon. Connected to the dome were several spokes accessing a hangar, garages, storage depots and quarters for the employees.

"No evidence of intruders so far," Grey said, studying the landscape for disturbances.

He landed the hopper on a cement platform ten yards from the hangar accessing the loading dock. Only a few days from lunar sunset, the area was already falling into dusky shadows.

"Remain armed and stay alert," Grey ordered as he unbuckled his seat belt. "We'll go in through the cargo entrance, secure the warehouse, then pull Groundhog inside. If we run into more than anticipated, retreat and take off. I'll hold rear guard."

No one argued, the plan having been agreed upon during training, but each was determined to make retreat a last resort.

Grey climbed down from the cockpit, pushed open the side hatch, and jumped out on the tarmac. He bounced slowly to let the armored spacesuit settle comfortably on his shoulders, then entered the airlock and disappeared into the dark chamber. A moment later he returned to the hopper and waved his hand.

"The hangar is empty," Grey said over the transmitter, attaching a tow bar to the hopper's forward landing strut.

Nicholas jumped down to help, the two of them pulling the hopper through a large hatch.

"What do you think?" Glenda asked, a hand poised on her blaster.

"We're clear," Grey said. "This facility has not been visited since Captain Fairfield and I secured the locks."

"I thought the tourist center would be nicer than this," Tamera said, underwhelmed by the small receiving area.

"This is just the service dock. You'll find the main complex more interesting," Grey assured her, leading them from the airlock up a long corridor to the visitor section.

As they entered, Tamera, Nicholas and Glenda gasped at the sparkling crystal walls, marble floors, and the superb murals decorating the walls of the lobby. Once one of the most exclusive resorts anywhere, they saw that no expense had been spared to impress the wealthy clientele.

"I usually eat in the employee kitchen but we can use the restaurant if you want to," Grey suggested. "Later on, we can visit the art gallery and the arboretum. We may as well take rooms, too, in case this mission lasts longer than expected."

"We're just going to be tourists?" Glenda asked.

"This is a tourist center," Grey pointed out.

"I thought we were going to fight bad guys," Glenda said.

"It's not my intention to fight anybody," Grey answered. "I wouldn't have brought you along if I did. We're here to make contact with a hostile species. Exchange information. If you meet them, you might even like them. I grew quite fond of Mordari."

"I won't like any of them," Tamera said.

"Tammy-burger," Glenda teased.

"Let's see how you like being Glendy-burger," Tamera countered.

"None of you will make good burger, not on this trip," Grey insisted.

"Why is that?" Nicholas asked.

"If we encounter a feeding situation, I intend to have them feed on me first," Grey explained.

"We should share such a risk," Nicholas objected.

"Besides, you're so skinny you'll hardly make a good lunch," Glenda added.

"When the Quexelians were still here, Red Room treated me with a toxic substance," Grey explained. "The antidote is specifically coded to my D.N.A. If an Arikhan feeds on my blood, it will be the last meal they ever have."

Grey rolled back the sleeves of his jumpsuit to reveal tiny tooth-like scars on his forearms.

"Fucking hell!" Glenda exclaimed.

"I would never have that kind of courage," Nicholas said.

"It's not a question of courage, Nick," Grey responded.

____________

"Welcome back, Kris. How was the campaign trail?" Sheppard asked when Kris entered the training room.

"Not bad if you like partying all night and sleeping all day," Kris replied. "Are we ready to get some work done?"

"We're narrowing down the teams, I think," Sheppard reported. "Trolleni has selected three training centers for the finalists. Annapolis, Portsmouth and Point Mugu. If not for you, I bet he would have picked Pearl Harbor instead of us."

"We've got good kids here, but Army's going to be tough," Kris said.

"Let's not dismiss the fly boys or the mud hens. Even Homeland's going to field a decent team. Best competition in a long time. But this is the place to train and everyone knows it."

"Why is that?" Kris asked.

"A Black Sash this year will be a straight ticket to the Mars mission regardless which service wins it. And if these fancy new spaceships are everything they say, maybe two teams will go. Or more, if the rumors are true. You're the only instructor to have won a Black Sash and fought off-planet. Most people are saying Waters isn't even that good, just getting credit for what you taught him."

"That's not true," Kris dismissed.

"True or not, that's what they're saying. It's not like anyone has ever seen him fight except on that bio-vid, and everyone knows how those can be faked."

"I've seen him fight, and Blout and Davis. Others, too."

"Well, none of them are here, and even if they were, they're not experts. We believe what we see, and we see you."

Soon more instructors were arriving, then the trainees. They suited up in closed environment armor and moved out to the training arena, forming into teams. But the combat exercises were not the first item of business. First they needed to break down their equipment and put it back together until they could do it blindfolded. Or on a smoke-filled battlefield, which was the more likely scenario. Then they practiced with their tactical scanners, learned new methods of maximizing their energy shields, and focused on individual marksmanship. The day was half over before the team exercises even began.

"Having fun, Captain?" Rymae asked as the practice session was finally ending.

"This is hard to beat," Kris smiled, her hair soaked in sweat.

"Not captain much longer, Rymae," Sheppard said. "Admiral Trolleni has offered Kris a post with Space Command. As a major."

"I'm still holding out for commander," Kris said.

"That's great! You really deserve it," Rymae encouraged.

"How about we all go out and celebrate tonight?" Sheppard suggested. "The Derth is playing at the Kissing Bull."

"I don't know. Hadn't really planned on any outings," Kris replied.

"Please?" Rymae urged. "It would be jeekin to see you outside of training. We'll hit the Bull, then go beaching."

"Well, okay. Guess a little fun won't hurt," Kris conceded.

"That's the spirit," Sheppard said. "I'll order up a few boards, too. We can go midnight surfing."

A few hours later, twenty people were climbing down a steep trial to a private beach south of the naval base. Wearing swimsuits and light shirts in the warm summer evening, they laughed as Ensign Stockhauser struggled with a heavy pack of beach chairs and an ice chest. Sheppard laughed loudest when Stockhauser discovered their party supplies had already been dropped in by a navy helicopter.

Soon fires were lit, chicken and steaks were pulled out for the barbecues, and many grabbed surfboards.

"Surf's going to be great tonight, Kris," Rymae said. "Just look at that moon."

The moon, Kris thought. I wonder what Grey is doing tonight?

Sheppard soon interrupted Kris's thought, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the water.

"Having fun?" Sheppard asked as midnight approached.

"Yeah, this is great," Kris replied. "I'd forgotten what nights on the beach could be like."

"Guess you don't do this on the moon too often," Sheppard inquired.

"You'd be surprised. There's a water treatment plant called the Cove where we go swimming. Kind of dark and creepy, but still good exercise," Kris recalled.

"I'll take the beach," Sheppard said.

"Kris! Shep! Time to sing," Rymae called out.

The assembly gathered round the bonfire singing songs that sailors had sung for hundreds of years. When the beer ran out, bottles of harder alcohol appeared, causing the event to get rowdy.

"Let's give them one from the old Independence," Sheppard suggested, helping Kris up. Shy as first, Kris nodded her agreement.

"For several months in '66, NA Independence hit some of the roughest action ever seen in the Gulf of Aden," Sheppard explained to the younger listeners. "We finally took down Aswan, thanks to Captain Fairfield, but we lost a lot of good aviators in the process. Our skipper, Big Line Ohama, was fond of singing to keep up morale and even wrote a few ballads for the crew. This is one of the last ones he wrote, just before the Mayar sent his death-birds out to break our deck. Ready, Kris?"

"Yeah, I still remember," Kris confirmed, joining Sheppard as they sang,

"Here we stand on pitching decks;

Masters of the sea!

By wing and wave, in courage true

Forever are we free!

We've never lost and never will;

On water, land, or in the hills.

By Crown and Star and Maple Leaf;

Forever are we free!

We've made our stand, let tyrants run;

The fleet will never rest.

We're on the prowl, let tyrants fall;

Until the world is free!"

After everyone cheered the final line, they sang a few more songs, then drifted off for a night's sleep.

"I got us a little tent just behind the dune," Sheppard said, helping Kris to her feet.

"Us and who else?" Kris asked, seeing everyone else disappear into the dark.

"Let's call it the senior command tent. Senior command only," Sheppard answered with a twinkle in his eye.

Kris went with him down the beach, over a low dune, and found a small tent erected at the base of the steep cliff. A lone solar lantern cast a dim light.

"Don't get your hopes up, Ricky," Kris warned.

"We've known each other a long time," Sheppard mentioned. "Close to six years, I think. Certainly that's long enough to be honest with each other."

"Sure," Kris agreed.

"There's lots of rumors going around. One has it there's more to this Mars mission than anyone's letting on. Something big. I want to be part of that, and I think you do, too."

"Everyone will get a chance to contribute," Kris hedged, trying not to let on how much she already knew. Sheppard smiled, but he wasn't fooled.

"I have it from Barksdale, who got it from Trolleni, who got it from Old Man Vandebrown. That means Vandebrown got it from his son or Waters, which means you already know. You don't have to admit it, but I follow the scorecard."

"Then you know I can get my own ticket."

"That's the other rumor. High Command is determined to cut the mooners out of the game, especially Waters. There's no ticket there. I've also heard your return trip to Tranquility has been indefinitely delayed on Larson's orders. Don't know why, but it's solid fact."

Kris took a deep breath. She knew of Grey's trip to San Francisco and his meeting with Larson. No additional explanations were required.

"This sucks," Kris whispered.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news," Sheppard consoled, sitting her down on a blanket near the tent and taking out a flask. Kris took a shot.

"I suspected something was going on, but I still can't believe it," she mumbled.

"Does it affect your decision about coming back into the service? It's no secret that you're wanted and needed."

"I don't know," Kris replied, staring up at the moon that was now dipping far out over the ocean.

"There's some past up there, and maybe a lot of future, too," Sheppard said, sitting behind Kris and wrapping his arms around her. "I know you've got feelings for Waters, but there's no commitment. Would it be so wrong if we shared the night together? Just to see how it goes? Neither of us have nails in our tails."

Sheppard leaned forward and nibbled on Kris's ear, then pulled her into his lap and gave her a long, gentle kiss.

__________

"This is the arboretum," Grey said as they entered the large glass enclosed dome.

"It's wild!" Glenda exclaimed. "Do all these plants grow like this? Naturally?"

"They've been left untended for twenty-one years," Grey explained.

The group looked at the heavily overgrown gardens. Kept in humid conditions, the swamp trees were brushing the roof in many places. A thick carpet of tall grasses, bushes, and bamboo stalks filled the grounds with crisscrossing creeks and ponds. In the center of the dome, across a quaint wooden footbridge, an old-fashioned gazebo, the latticework boasting a coat of pealing white paint.

"It's a jungle. People could get lost in here," Tamera said.

"This looks like the marshes were my father and I went duck hunting," Nicholas remembered.

"No ducks," Grey mentioned. "Though we could probably import some."

"I bet a shotgun wouldn't do much for those glass panels, either," Glenda said, pointing up where a sea of stars were visible through the transparent ceiling.

"Those panels are more impact resistant than they appear, but firing a shotgun at them would not be wise," Grey agreed.

"Okay, we've had breakfast. We've had the tour. You've warned us to death. Now what?" Glenda asked.

"Now I'm going in search of the Quexelian cave to see if the Arikhan have been there. I should be back in a few hours," Grey replied. "You're going to dig in and wait. If the cave is safe, we'll all go down and use some of those spectrum scanners Nicholas brought. It's possible I've underestimated the potential of the crystal formations."

"Not to be dumb, Grey, but what's a Quexelian?" Glenda asked.

Grey was surprised at first, then realized he had never explained about his interactions with the ancient species, mortal enemies of the Arikhan. Even Tamera and Nicholas had only heard vague references.

"Let's sit down," Grey decided, taking them across the bridge into the gazebo where the wooden planks creaked under their weight.

"This is confidential information," Grey cautioned when they settled in, Nicholas and Tamera sitting together on a bench while Glenda sat on the steps with her feet dangling above a small creek.

"Does this have anything to do with Kes?" Glenda asked, all of them remembering the strange white-haired woman who had appeared from nowhere to save Grey's life. And disappeared just as mysteriously two months later.

"You could say Kes is involved," Grey began, wondering how to explain the situation. "More than a hundred years ago, an alien species who call themselves the Quexelian established a base beneath the crater here at Cauchy. They were not strangers, having visited Earth thousands of years ago. The Quexelian fear the Arikhan will attack their homeworld. To prevent this, their base was established to watch for the invaders and, if necessary, destroy Earth to deny them a foothold in this star system."

"Destroy Earth!" Glenda shouted.

"There is logic to the strategy," Nicholas said. "But we have fought the Arikhan. Why did these Quexelian not carry out their mission?"

"The Quexelian are not a flesh and blood species. They are crystal entities no larger than my forearm," Grey said. "To help them, they have human beings transplanted from Earth as their assistants. I once thought they might be slaves, but learned these humans strongly disagree with that assessment. They also call themselves Quexelians, though obviously in a different sense. Kes was one of these assistants. So was my mother, Crystal Waters."

"Your mother? Your mother was an alien?" Glenda questioned.

"My mother was human, her ancestors transplanted from a Greek island two thousand years ago," he clarified.

We've known you almost a year and you've never mentioned your mother before. Not ever," Tamera said.

"I don't know much about her," Grey admitted. "Governor McKinsey stumbled on the Cauchy complex by accident more than twenty years ago. He convinced the Quexelians to postpone their scorched earth policy and my mother returned with him, initially as his consort. She later fell in love with Colonel Jaime Vandebrown and both of them died during the attempt on Governor McKinsey's life."

"Wait a minute!" Glenda said. "I know that story. After the evacuation of the moon when the Embargo Wars started, the custodians all suddenly died, and Jaime Vandebrown was one of them. If he was your father, then Roger Vandebrown is your uncle!"

"Yes, that's true," Grey acknowledged.

"Fuck, Grey, why didn't you say anything?" Glenda shouted. "No wonder you trust that dirty blanket so much! Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay, Glenda. Nick and I thought poorly of Roger, too, until the fight with the lizards," Tamera said. "We've known the secret for a few months."

"Roger plays the dirty blanket role on purpose. He is a very courageous man," Nicholas agreed.

Now it was Grey's turn to be surprised.

"I didn't realize you knew," Grey said.

"We're allowed to have secrets, too," Tamera replied with a smile.

"I realize it might have been better to explain sooner," Grey confessed. "The Quexelians are gone now, heading back toward their home planet. Kes decided to go with them, which means the struggle against the Arikhan belongs to us. I believe the scouts have returned to study the old cave at Cauchy. I'm going to find out why they think it's worthwhile."

__________

Dressed in an armored walker, Grey trudged down the steep path to the bottom of Cauchy Canyon, pausing occasionally to read the tourist markers on the turnouts. Then he followed the trail at the bottom of the fault, going south toward the face of the minor crater Cauchy. After a pleasant walk, he reached a divide in the trail. The path to the left entered a spur called the Tallor Shunt, a particularly narrow and stunning crevice often featured on International Geographic. The right path was blocked by a collapse of the cliff wall, the rubble more than four meters high. He climbed over the rubble and continued on a long stretch until reaching the crater, a journey of several kilometers. There he found a hole in the wall that could easily be mistaken for an abandoned mineshaft.

"D'Artagnan to the Mouseketeers, come in Mouseketeers," Grey summoned.

"That's Musketeers," Glenda corrected.

"Nothing of value yet, proceeding with the investigation. D'Artagnan out," Grey said.

Grey checked his suit's environmental support system, shifted the holstered blaster to quick draw position, and took one last look at the waning sun before starting down the tunnel into the darkness.

The tunnel was long, occasionally steep, and shored up in subtle ways to disguise its origins. Most would assume it had been dug in the 2030's, before preservation laws banned mining in the area. Grey knew the shaft was more than a century old, made by Quexelian observers near the end of World War II. At least, that's what Quexitor had told him. How much of the story was true he could only guess.

After half an hour of steady progress, he reached a large metallic hatch embedded at the foot of the tunnel. The Quexelian entities had somehow managed a transparent and easily penetrable barrier against the lunar vacuum but those passages were now sealed. This hatch accessed a standard airlock triggered by a light beam. And only a single chamber, unlike the triple chambered airlocks protecting Tranquility.

Grey emerged from the airlock unsure of what to expect. The atmosphere was being preserved, as was an acceptable temperature. The cavern had changed somewhat. The ceiling rose higher than Tranquility's community level, better than thirty meters, and the cavern was twice as long. In many places, the walls sparkled with amazing crystal formations that shed bright rainbow tracers as his chest lamp surveyed the scene. In the center, where the hub of the Quexelian spaceship had once rested, there was now nothing but a thirty-meter-wide crater in the flat rock floor. But near the hole, lit by portable illuminators, was a medium sized disk-shaped spaceship ten meters in diameter.

Grey recognized the style of the alien craft. It was Arikhan, larger than a scout craft yet smaller than the troop transport used by Zendar and her two ranks of soldiers. A science vessel? Grey wondered.

Not far from the craft was a camp set around a bubble-shaped tent. Grey walked slowly toward the encampment, suppressing his fear but never forgetting the blaster holstered on his hip. As he got within ten meters, he activated a timer on a small explosive nestled next to his oxygen tank and remembered a quote from Vastok, whispering;

"To lose a battle is no shame,

War and life are but a game;

And if, at last, we yield the ghost,

Die valiantly among the host."

First one, then several Arikhan appeared in the doorway of the tent until there were five in all. Without their surface suits, they appeared as tall bony bluish-gray bipeds with sharp claws and long slender feet. The black eyes were large, able to dart back and forth. No ears, only small holes on the sides of their heads with slender webbed membranes instead of hair. Their sparse clothing was made of colored leather, and all were armed with weapons tucked in shoulder holsters. Two of the Arikhan drew their weapons.

"Greetings. Welcome to the moon," Grey said. "May Sherra grant blessings upon the brave warriors of the Varbaran and the bold warriors of the Varbatro." He added a brief click of his tongue at the end of the salutations as he had heard other Arikhan do.

"It is a food creature," one of the Arikhan said in broken English. She wore a blue tunic, which Grey had not seen before.

"With what foolishness does it approach?" a second creature said, also in blue.

"It is no ordinary food creature," still a third Arikhan said, one that had not drawn a weapon. This alien not only wore the familiar green tunic of the Arikhan scouting divisions, but her face was familiar, too. Grey was unable to suppress a smile.

"Mordari! What brings you back so soon?" Grey asked. "Have you come to pay your debt?"

"Debt?" the tallest alien said. This one had not drawn a weapon, and by the red color of her tunic, appeared to be the commander. The two holding weapons could be guards, but Grey suspected they were merely armed scientists.

"Zendar offered to aid this creature's quest for revenge in exchange for the rocks," Mordari said.

"A warrior does not bargain with cattle. Make it food," the commander ordered.

"I have offered greetings and asked a question with respect. Have the Arikhan forgotten their obligations so soon?" Grey responded.

"We failed to inform, Larkin Leader, it is an impertinent food creature," the fifth Arikhan said, also dressed in scout green. One that Grey recognized as he got closer.

"Ryndari, is your memory short as well?" Grey said. "Where is your greeting for a comrade in arms?"

The only male in the group, Ryndari had broad shoulders and stood a few centimeters taller than the leader. His face was a bit longer in the jaw than the females, the sharp fangs more pronounced when he spoke.

"Comrade?" the Larkin Leader said. "Slay the food creature, then explain."

"I don't care for your manners, Larkin Leaer," Grey criticized, stopping six paces short of the small group.

"Careful!" Ryndari warned. But too late.

Grey suddenly drew his sidearm, the motion so fast that the Arikhan were taken completely by surprise.

"We are food!" an underling shouted.

"Abide in silence," the leader instructed. "Had the thing wished our death we would lie in blood. What do you expect, impertinent food creature?"

"I would have a proper greeting," Grey demanded.

"It is custom, Larkin Leader," Mordari agreed.

"We can eat it later," her guard hoped.

"Watching you try will be an entertainment, Dokera," Ryndari said with a resentful glare aimed in Grey's direction.

"I am Karpeta, Larkin Leader of the Seventh Science," the alien commander said. "This is Lartra of the Mineral Sect and Dokera of the Geology Sect." She pointed to the underlings in the blue tunics, Lartra being somewhat short and round for an Arikhan, Dokera nearly as tall as Karpeta. Both had average features that nevertheless could be described as fearsome.

"Greetings, Karpeta, Larkin Leader of the Seventh Science," Grey said. "Zendar said the Arikhan would not visit here again until the fleet arrived. How has this changed?"

"Zendar is slain, her troop destroyed," Karpeta said. "With the rocks lost, we have returned to examine stones from their lair."

Grey glanced at the crystal laden walls, denser and more beautiful than any found anywhere else. By the equipment in evidence, it appeared the crystals were being tested. Quexitor had never hinted the crystals might have a special value.

"I grieve at the loss of Zendar and her brave warriors," Grey said, declining to mention it was he who had planted the bomb aboard their transport. "Am I to have no help in my struggle?"

"We are scientists, not Varbaran," Dokera said.

"Who is this enemy that inspires such hatred?" Karpeta asked.

"His name is Grey Waters, Governor of the Moon," Grey answered.

"An evil curl," Ryndari added. "Much did we prevail against the human hive until this governor struck with his flying weapons. Many were the losses."

"It is not our task to redeem Zendar's debt," Karpeta said, her nervous glance telling Grey their expedition may be poorly armed. "Now we have answered your greeting, impertinent food creature. Set aside your weapon."

"First I offer tribute, as one of my station owes to a superior species," Grey said, slinging a knapsack off his shoulder and sliding it across the floor to Mordari. The scout picked up and sack and pulled out a bloody slab of uncooked beef. There was instant energy among the entire group with much pawing at the ground and clicking of tongues. "I can get more, if it will please the Larkin Leader of the Seventh Science."

"You interest me, strange creature. You are impertinent, but useful," Karpeta said. "By what designation are you known?"

"You may call me Cal," Grey said.

__________

"Grey's where?" Kris asked, looking at Michiko's image on the private vid screen.

"Sorry, Kris, we thought you knew. We've got visitors. Word came down just before Silent Wind launched," Michiko reported.

"Where? How many? Are you guys locked down?" Kris said.

"We're at full alert. Except for that we're doing fine," Michiko replied.

Kris could tell otherwise. Her friend looked stressed. Those who had been in the landing bay that day would never forget how the Arikhan phalanx had cut through their ranks. Six dead. The three teams Kris had organized hadn't stopped them. Grey had done that, and now he wasn't even there. Kris didn't blame Michiko for being frightened.

"Grey's dealt with the visitors before, he'll know what to do," Kris hoped. "If I could catch a shuttle, I'd be up there tomorrow."

"We miss you, Kris. Try not to wait too long," Michiko urged.

The com line closed.

"Everything okay, honey?" Tey asked when Kris emerged from the library of Valerie's Malibu mansion.

"I don't know," Kris said.

"Want to talk about it?" Tey offered.

"You're Grey's shrink, not mine," Kris tried to laugh.

"I'm not a psychiatrist, as you well know. But I've had enough training to do a little counseling. Now come out on the patio and tell me what's wrong."

Tey took Kris by the arm and led her through the back door where they took seats overlooking the ocean. The day was starting to turn cool, a breeze blowing in from the sea that had the seagulls restless.

"We've been through too much together for waffling," Tey lectured. "Cut to the chase and make it honest."

"I was hurt when Grey took off like that, but kind of happy not to quit my squads. Instructing's been exciting, and being with the kids is fun. Since Tranquility isn't threatened by the NA anymore, I figured they didn't really need me. Figured I'd hang here for a month or so, then head out and see what burr suddenly crawled up Grey's butt. Now I hear the lizards are back, Grey's off doing God knows what, and I'm not there to help. It sucks. It really sucks."

"The Arikhan have returned?" Tey whispered.

"That's what Michiko was told."

Tey took a frightened breath, her shoulders shivering involuntarily. Belatedly, Kris remembered that Tey had briefly been a prisoner of the Arikhan, just as Tamera had.

"But the situation is under control, isn't it?" Tey asked.

"Hell if I know. I have half a mind to gather up my best squad and commandeer a shuttle right this minute."

"You'd never make it. The Council only let Grey go back because they wanted to get rid of him."

"Becoming an expert on the Council's motives?" Kris questioned.

"I have my sources," Tey answered.

"I'm beginning to think it's time we let High Command in on the lizard business," Kris said. "I've got squads training for a Mars mission they don't understand, and Fleet is building spaceships without long range weapons. Grey may not like it, but I'm considering going to Larson."

"They already know," Tey revealed.

"What? Who knows?" Kris asked.

"High Command, the Congress-In-Council, the International Science Committee. Roger encouraged Grey to tell General Vandebrown, and James told High Command. Grey wasn't happy about it. He and James got into quite a row and stopped talking to each other."

"This was at the reception, wasn't it?" Kris realized. "I should've known something was wrong. And that night... Jesus, what was I thinking? I yelled at him because of the damn girls!"

"I'm sure Grey... Well, I'm not really sure what Grey was thinking," Tey admitted.

"This is rough," Kris frowned. "Everyone thinks he's so brave. That he knows all the answers. But he's not, and he doesn't. I think there are times that just about everything scares him."

"If the lizards don't scare him, I can't imagine what would," Tey replied.

* * * * * *

Author's note: this is the only part of Tranquility Divided that includes two chapters as they are relatively short. Each part from now on will be a single chapter.