Rlinda smiled. “Oh, he’s here, and safe—with an Ildiran girl he seems quite fond of.” She brushed aside the impatient Wisskoff, who didn’t seem happy to be wherever he was, at any time. “Follow us. They’re all meeting with your parents and General Keah.”
“And we are delighted to offer free cups of klee for everyone,” Wisskoff said without enthusiasm.
When they reached the fungus-reef’s main meeting chamber, Arita ran to her brother, who seemed shy as he introduced Osira’h. Arita warmed to her as soon as she noticed the attraction between Reyn and the Mage-Imperator’s daughter. “Oh! I’m very pleased to meet you.” Arita’s knowing grin embarrassed her brother.
Rlinda moved throughout the room, supposedly trying to be unobtrusive but not at all successful. During her many years as trade minister before moving on to Kett Shipping and her restaurants, she had formed a habit of keeping her eyes open and her finger on the pulse of society.
Sarein seemed out of place, but she took a seat at the table and waited for the meeting to continue, as if she were an integral part of the discussions. “Please don’t allow us to interrupt,” she said.
Several advisers and Confederation representatives were in the room along with General Keah, who wore her full dress uniform and was seated next to four Manta captains, whom she had handpicked after their performance during the nightshade crisis. Rlinda handed them all cups of steaming klee, whether they asked for one or not.
Keah put her elbows on the table, and continued. “As I was saying—first off, we need to get our butts in gear. Adar Zan’nh gave us the Solar Navy plans for sun bombs and laser missiles, but who knows when the Shana Rei will strike again?”
Peter said, “The factories at the Lunar Orbital Complex are ready for full-scale production. I received a report from Deputy Cain this morning. We should have sun bombs for CDF ships within the coming weeks.”
“Yes, Sire, but those are the standard-issue sun bombs. Ildirans being what they are, I’m sure the weapons were from old plans that hadn’t been changed in thousands of years. We can do better. The CDF will add some finesse, increase the intensity, and show the Ildirans how it’s done. It’s a matter of pride.”
Sitting next to Reyn, Osira’h said, “The faeros came because I called them, but they suffered losses, too. I tried to thank them, but it’s difficult to know if they understood. There’s no guarantee that they’ll respond again if I call them. They are unpredictable. We need to be prepared to fight the Shana Rei even without the faeros.”
“I still find it difficult to trust the faeros,” said Queen Estarra, “after what they did to the worldforest.”
“Therefore, more sun bombs.” General Keah took the klee Rlinda handed her and slammed it down as if it were a shot of whiskey.
Three green priests sat in the room, each with a potted treeling. All at once, they sat upright, turning to one another and then back to the King and Queen. “The verdani battleships are reacting. Something is coming.”
Keah leaped to her feet as did the Manta pilots. Touching the comm on her shoulder, she said, “Keah to Kutuzov—battle stations! Full sensor sweep.” She activated the screens inside the chamber.
Rlinda paused to stare, then moved out of the way so others could see the screens. The Kutuzov and the armed Mantas remained on high alert, poised in a widespread defensive formation. The huge verdani battleships spread apart, their thorny boughs now green and powerful again, recovered from the battle against the nightshade.
Sensor Chief Saliba transmitted from the Kutuzov, “General, our deep scans detect a flurry of incoming ships—small unidentified vessels.”
Keah said, “Is it the Solar Navy?”
“Definitely not, sir. They’re too small—and there’s an accurate count, not a multiple of seven. Ildiran ships always travel in multiples of seven.”
“At least you’re learning, Lieutenant Saliba,” she said. “How many then?”
“Ninety-nine.”
The small vessels streaked in like shotgun pellets. The CDF ships raised their shields, stood in defensive formations. The weapons officer called, “Should we open fire, General?”
Glancing at the General, Queen Estarra shook her head, keeping her eyes on the curious expressions of the green priests. “Let’s wait and see.”
Peter added, “We can’t just shoot at anything that approaches Theroc.”
“Agreed,” Keah said, though she didn’t sound happy about it. “Hold your fire, Mr. Patton. But keep your fingers on the firing controls, just in case.”
The verdani battleships spread out, leaving obvious gaps for the incoming ships to pass through. One of the green priests said, “The treeship pilots… know them.”
“Who are they?” Peter asked.
The Kutuzov’s comm officer said, “The unidentified ships don’t respond to any transmissions.”
As the flurry of small vessels streaked past the picket line of CDF Mantas, the long-range imagers resolved details: the strange ships were small, featureless ovoids like armored seedpods. They bore no markings, no external lights—and, thankfully, no weapons ports.
The ninety-nine ships cruised past, wove their way among the restless verdani battleships, then dropped through the cloudy Theron atmosphere to the heart of the worldforest.
The green priests looked up from their treelings and rose to their feet. “The Gardeners have returned. We should welcome them.”
Everyone in the chamber left the fungus-reef to head outside and watch. Wisskoff started to gather up the klee service, but Rlinda was already moving out. The maître d’ said, “I suppose you’ll be wanting to offer a free banquet to all our new visitors, as well?”
“Let’s see if they’re hungry first,” she said. “And what they eat.”
Outside, the podships poured down through the sky like shooting stars. Each craft was no larger than a cargo shuttle. Finding gaps in the worldforest canopy, they landed in the expansive meadow like armored raindrops.
The teardrop-shaped podships settled down on their wide, rounded ends, with the narrower portions tilted upward. Seams appeared in their polished hulls, which split into triangular sections, unfolding like the petals of a large artificial flower.
Each podship held several creatures crowded together: small-statured and smooth-skinned, with rounded heads and heavy brows. They belonged to no race Rlinda had ever seen before, though they looked vaguely familiar.
King Peter and Queen Estarra stood together as the strange aliens emerged, beings that the green priests called Gardeners. Hundreds of them stepped out of the opening podships, filling the meadows in the forest, standing in the clearings between trees. They were eerily silent and looked gentle, contemplative.
Now the worldtrees trembled, and the green priests tapped into the verdani mind but found confusion rather than information. It was as if the worldforest were reaching for memories only to find them missing.
One of the silent creatures walked over to the nearest tree, ignoring the crowd of observers. The Gardener touched the gold-scaled bark, closed its eyes, and let out a long sigh, as if finally reconnecting with an energy source. The other aliens scurried forward to touch the trees as well, gathering information from the worldforest mind—and adding information as well.
Once the aliens made contact, the gathered green priests looked startled, their eyes open wide. Finally, the strange creatures turned, now identifying Estarra and Peter as the leaders. After drawing the information they needed from the verdani mind, they spoke in perfectly comprehensible trade standard.