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He nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

He headed off toward the Melding circle. “He doesn’t know who she really is?” Bayta asked quietly.

I shook my head. “I asked Rebekah to keep it quiet for now.”

“I didn’t know she could do that.”

“Keep things private from the rest of the Melding?” I shrugged. “Apparently so. Not really surprising when you think about it. After all, you and I have kept secrets from the Spiders and Chahwyn.”

“Yes, we have,” Bayta said, her voice gone odd. “They’ve also kept a few from us.”

I winced. “Bayta—”

“It’s all right, Frank,” she said. Her voice still held some tension, but there was nothing but warmth and trust in her hand as she wrapped it gently around mine. “I just don’t like not knowing everything that’s going on. But I understand that’s how it has to be.”

“I appreciate that,” I said, searching for a way to change the subject.

For once, even if unknowingly, the Chahwyn came to my rescue. At the far end of the station, the long train of tenders I’d seen at the siding popped through the barrier and rolled down the slope toward us. “But right now, we’ve got work to do,” I said, squeezing Bayta’s hand and then letting go. “Let’s get the defenders organized and start unloading some coral.”

*   *   *

I’d assured the Elder that the Modhri would accept the Melding changes with open arms. The Elder had countered with the ominous possibility that the Modhri might be lying about that, for whatever presumably nefarious reason.

Only one of us would prove to be right. But neither of us would know which, not for a good, long while. The Modhri had managed to rent, buy, or otherwise finagle the presence of Yandro’s entire fleet of spacegoing vessels—all eight of them—but even at top speed those ships and their cargo of Melding coral would take over ten days to get to Yandro. After that would come whatever time the Modhri needed to adjust to the new coral and his new life, aided by the rest of the Melding members who were going down to the planet to help guide him through the transition. Once everything was settled, the new improved Modhri could have one of his Eyes laser a message to the station to confirm that he had adjusted, after which a message cylinder would be sent to wherever Bayta and I and the others happened to be at the time. I was guessing all of that would take at least another two weeks, and possibly longer.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t think we can afford to wait that long,” Morse argued as we watched the defenders and some of the stronger Melding members lugging crates from the tenders to the open hatchways where the commandeered torchyachts and cargo transports were docked. “I think we need to assume the acclimation will work and get started right away.”

“What do you suggest?” I asked.

“We know Yleli and his friends had me under full control back on the Sibbrava train,” he said. “But we also know that they had only partial control of Rebekah. What was the difference between us?”

“You’re the Modhri,” Rebekah said as she and Terese wandered over to us. “I’m the Melding.”

“Except that by then I was also part of the Melding,” Morse pointed out. “Had been since we touched down on that colony of yours.”

“It has to be the polyp colonies,” Bayta said. “Yours is original Modhran. Rebekah’s is the modified Melding version.”

“Exactly.” Morse looked at me. “Back before we went out to the Melding’s place you had the Modhri send Eyes to Homshil and some of the other stations to alert passing mind segments about the new alliance. I’m thinking maybe we should send each of those messengers a lump of Melding coral so they can—” He waved a hand. “Inoculate, I suppose, is as good a word as any. Inoculate all the passing Eyes against Shonkla-raa control.”

“How’s that going to help?” Terese asked, frowning. “Rebekah told me it took weeks or months to grow one of those colonies.”

“That’s if you start with a polyp hook from a casual touch of the coral,” Morse said. “If you scratch someone—I mean a really decent scratch—then enough polyps get in to quickly form a colony.”

“You’re kidding,” Terese said.

“No, he’s right,” I said, wincing with distant memories. “We had a whole trainload of people turned in just a few hours by a handful of determined Eyes with a supply of coral.” I looked at Bayta. “What do you think?”

For a moment her eyes unfocused as she communicated with the Chahwyn, who was apparently still back at the siding. Probably waiting to see if I’d be obliging enough to provoke Sam and Carl into killing me. “It sounds reasonable,” she said slowly. “I don’t know how we’d go about testing it, though.”

“I do,” Morse said.

And before I could do anything but stare in astonishment, he strode to the nearest crate, popped off the top with a quick flick of his multitool, and reached inside. Some of the water inside sloshed over the edge as he raked his hand across the coral—

Damn,” he grunted, yanking his hand out of the crate.

“What is it?” Terese asked tensely.

“I forgot the bloody coral lives in salt water,” Morse said wryly as he gripped his hand. “Stings like—never mind.” He unclasped his hand and showed us the bright red line of oozing blood. “Okay, let’s see how this works. Depending on how long it takes for the polyps to find their way to my brain and join with the Modhran colony, we may need to tailor the size of the scratch a bit.”

I shook my head as I started my watch’s timer. “You are absolutely the most reckless lunatic I’ve ever worked with,” I told him.

“Coming from a former Westali, that means so much,” Morse said dryly. He peered at his scratch one more time, then dropped his arm to his side. “Well, what are we standing around for?” he demanded. “There’s work to be done. Let’s get to it.”

*   *   *

Yandro to Earth was about a nine-and-a-half-hour trip, a short enough run for us to do via tender. But I’d had enough of tenders, and I was way behind on my sleep, and the idea of getting to lie down in a real bed in a secure and semi-private Quadrail compartment was too good to pass up.

Besides, the way our group was growing, a tender would have been uncomfortably crowded. Morse and Terese were coming with us, of course, with Morse having volunteered to be Terese’s escort and protector on the torchliner trip from the Tube back to Earth. Terese and Rebekah both insisted that Rebekah be allowed to accompany us as well, so that the two girls could have a few last hours together.

And then there were Sam and Carl. The two defenders didn’t say anything, but I knew full well what would happen if I tried to leave without them.

I also knew what would happen if I tried to crowd them into a tender with the rest of us. For one thing, I would have to sit and look at their dot-patterned globes the whole way back to Terra Station. For another, I’d caught Morse throwing thoughtful looks in the defenders’ direction, and I knew that somewhere down the line he would be asking me about them. I didn’t want that happening in an open car with everyone else listening in.

So when all the coral and Melding members were loaded, and the transports and torchyachts safely on their way, the rest of us piled into the tender and I told Bayta to take us around the edge of the system to the main Yandro station.

From the way Isantra Yleli had talked I’d assumed the Shonkla-raa or their agents had scattered themselves among every Quadrail station between Sibbrava and Terra, plus probably a few more beyond it. In a place like Homshil, with upward of a thousand beings moving around at any given time, we’d never have spotted the presence of such agents. At Yandro, though, a loiterer would stick out like a giraffe at a polar bear convention.

I didn’t see Riijkhan as being that blatantly obvious, and so wasn’t surprised to find the station deserted when we arrived. There were two hours until the regular train, and we spent most of the time in the station’s lone gift-and-packaged-food shop, browsing the selection under the watchful and hopeful eye of a bored-looking Human clerk.