This is a sequel to the stories, Alien Pond and Alien Home.
The pale green shell wobbled as it split open and a six inch long, iridescent green newborn crawled free. Hearing a soft, rasping sound, she turned and took unsteady steps to where her two sisters were huddled against the abdomen of their reclining mother, Autumnblossom. The new mother very softly stroked each one with a five-digit hand.
The children's father, Crystalheart, knelt on four legs beside his wife and also caressed the children. Two small appendages on either side of his head scratched and tapped along a rough section of exoskeleton as he recited their names. "(Goodupholder, Autumnheart, Crystalblossom.)"
The attending physician bowed and backed away, saying, "(Nothing to worry about. All are in excellent health.)"
Seated on a cushion nearby, Daria Morgendorffer-O'Neal felt the added joy the three brought to her life. The names of two followed the common practice of the Folk to represent their parents. The last touched her greatly: the closest name in their language that was a translation of Daria. "They're beautiful, Autumnblossom. Congratulations."
A well-built man with dark brown hair sat on the cushion beside Daria. Her husband of a little over two years, Tim, smoothed his fingers through her waist-length auburn hair. "How does it feel to be a grandmother at thirty-five?" he asked with a grin.
She gave him a friendly snarl. "That was uncalled for. I suppose it's a little easier to deal with at the over-the-hill age of forty-one."
Autumnblossom's sisters approached from their cushions and marveled at the tiny infants. Eveningsky said playfully, "(You just had to be first, so you could name her after mother.)"
Autumnblossom leaned against Crystalheart. "(I got lucky.)"
Truemind placed a hand gently on Goodupholder's head. "(Firstborn. Unless and until I have children, you are my heir.)"
Daria smiled at the irony of that. The other common definition of Daria was Queen. She also thought of her niece, Daria Jane, more commonly known as DJ. She's already four. I do need a trip back to Earth to see everyone again.
Eyes shaded by her black veil, Daria watched the cleric place a silver canister of ashes into the stone monument. At his signal, Daria reverently slid the sealing block to drop in place.
The cleric stood still for a moment before saying, "(Rest with the Creator, in return for a long life spent making the world a better place. The memory of this honored Daughter of the Nest, Peacetree, will live on with all she touched.)"
Daria felt tears of loss on her cheeks. Good-bye, dear friend. I will miss our long talks in the garden.
Tim placed an arm around her shoulder and wordlessly held her.
After the crowd departed, including her daughters, Daria stood, staring at the monument. "This reminds me of what I'm dreading most in the future."
"What, dear?"
"Peacetree was less than a year older than me."
"Losses always make you feel your own mortality."
"It's not that. It's…" Daria stopped to wipe her eyes. "It's that, if I live to be an average age for a human…I will have buried every one of my daughters."
Tim brought his other arm around his wife and held her close.
Tim stood before a display showing several highly detailed graphs with labels like: Ratio of Iron Isotopes, Ratio of Copper Isotopes, or Ratio of Oxygen Isotopes. On a table before him was a rod-shaped weapon encased in a clear box. Artie Simmons had used it to kill Angier Sloane almost four years earlier.
Listening intently to his presentation was the Queen of the Folk, Truemind, sitting on a short, cushioned dais behind a low desk. Her emerald green exoskeleton glinted in the office lights, and her faceted purple eyes followed his every motion. Her arms rested on the desk surface.
Daria, fulfilling her roles as the Earth Ambassador and the Queen's adopted mother, was also present. She held one of the Folk database computers in her hand and took notes using it.
Tim pointed to the graphs and said, "With the more precise analyses available here at Nest, we have identified, through stable isotope ratios, the planet where the weapon was made."
Truemind asked, "(That planet is?)"
Tim looked at Daria. "Earth."
She squinted in surprise. "Earth? How could that be? That technology is far more advanced than anything we've ever produced. It wasn't even recognized by any of the other space-faring species."
"The material is from Earth. Who made it; we don't know. However, there are some modern Earth manufacturing techniques involved. We believe this was a locally made duplication."
Truemind said, "(That makes even less sense. The technology was basically unrecognized by all species. Duplicated from what?)"
Daria tabbed through several reports on the computer. She said, "We know Mr. Simmons always maintained that it was non-humans that used him in experiments. But there is no evidence for another spacefaring species."
Tim spread his hands. "We have a hypothesis."
Daria rubbed her temple. "I'm almost afraid to ask. What?"
"The evidence is thin, but scientists that Eveningsky consulted said that some of the components appear to match fragments left by the species you know as the Others."
Truemind sat straighter. The Others had disappeared after a brutal and widespread war about seven thousand before. Artifacts recovered from archeological sites are all smashed and little remained that hadn't been turned into slag. There are still whole planets that nobody had landed on because of the residual radiation.
She asked, "(How could that be?)"
"Archeological sites for them are both in Folk and Seeker space, as well as the border zone. It may be possible that they visited Earth as well."
Truemind was still incredulous. "(But, nobody has been able to reconstruct any of their technology because the remains have been in such poor shape. It is almost as if somebody intentionally obliterated the equipment so it could never be replicated.)"
"You're correct. This concept only holds if somebody on Earth found intact Other artifacts."
Dropping her chin onto her hand, Daria observed, "And, they're secretly manufacturing what they've found."
Truemind tapped the equivalent of a keyboard and read another report on a monitor concerning the investigations made of Mr. Simmon's irrational sounding claims after he was sentenced to a psychiatric hospital. She asked, "(Have you made any progress on the synthetic skin Mister Simmons has?)"
"Not much." Tim said, "It was obviously made specifically for him; thumb and foot prints match his birth records."
Daria read through the reports on her computer. "That bothers me. Somebody went to a lot of expense and effort to make it. They could have made a fortune with biomedical uses to replace skin grafts and such. But they've kept this hidden for at least nineteen years. Why? They must have some use that is worth the loss of billions in income."
Two ornate wingback chairs faced a massive fireplace with aromatic woods burning in the hearth. Cigar smoke rose from the chair on the right, and shot glass of fine scotch was grasped in the hand of the left chair's occupant.
"We clearly avoided suspicion."
"I'm still concerned. Mr. Simmons used a prototype weapon stolen from the laboratory.
"Those responsible for his escape and theft were punished. However, his assassination of Sloane and capture afterward did alleviate the need for us to intervene directly."
"But, at what cost?"
"Everyone was confounded by the weapon and it was shelved as a mystery. It will feed the conspiracy press and keep everyone distracted."
"We can't rely on that. The lab with the crashed Folk ship was found during the investigation that implicated Sloane. We can't tolerate any more disclosures."
"The authorities believe that facility was run by rogue government agents using Sloane's money. There is no trail beyond that."
"Mr. Simmons was one of the first skin transplant test subjects. If that is discovered, it could also lead to undesirable consequences."
"He's in a psychiatric hospital. Nobody there is going to look for synthetic skin."
The man flicked his cigar butt into the fire. "Ever since that Morgendorffer woman saved those miserable kids, our plans have been fouled at every turn."
"It was a mistake to rely so much on those we plan to displace. At least those brats were kind enough to execute our last link to Nest two years ago, the Queen Mother."
"It's so nice when justice works in our favor."
"Now, we work entirely on our own."
Daria held a hand over her mouth to suppress the soft laugh. She and Tim sat on cushions in a disc-like flyer. His hands writhed together from inactivity.
He heard and half-grinned, half-frowned. "That's right. I still don't like being chauffeured around. I'd rather drive."
"I'm still not entirely accustomed to it, either, even though I was at best average behind the wheel."
"I'd still rather drive."
"I know. Maybe if they ever build one that doesn't require two opposable fingers on each hand, you could drive one of these a little better."
He snorted. "Yeah, trying to get your little finger to act like a thumb just doesn't work."
Daria moved next to him and leaned against his chest. "I do love it here, but I'm excited about going back to Earth. I miss Jane. I miss my family."
"I didn't get to know them well, but I miss them, too."
Daria looked out the clear dome at the landscape passing several thousand feet below. Harkening to their primitive roots of true nest-building, the dome was still the primary architectural element. Though more technologically advanced than Earth, Nest had managed to maintain a special balance and beauty. Probably because of their more sensitive physiology to toxins, Nest never developed the pollution problems that had plagued humans and other species.
For many years, Lawndale was my home; now this place is. Even if I'm not renewed as Ambassador, I'll be returning. I'll need to sell my old house. No sense in it sitting vacant like it has been the last few years. But, I'm keeping the cabin. One way or another, I will spend some time there.
Tim stepped out of the transport and looked up at the massive disc of the royal family's cruiser, remembering how it covered a forty-acre plot of land. "She was a beautiful sight saving you at the cabin, and she still is."
A crewmember in a gray coverall immediately began loading their luggage onto a floating cart. Another with silver braid approached. "(Greetings, Ambassador, Inspector. I am Captain Winterglow. Welcome back to Nebulachaser.)"
Daria nodded. As she spoke, a small device on her belt translated English to Folk. "Thank you, captain."
"(Princess Eveningsky has already boarded. Once your possessions are stowed, we can depart.)"
Daria watched the floating cart enter the hatch as the central pillar dropped from the underside of the ship. "Then we better get going, so life around the spaceport can return to normal."
The captain stepped aside and waved them past. "(As you desire.)"
Refreshed to stand back up straight after walking slightly stooped in the 5 foot high corridors, Daria smirked at Tim. "See, there are some advantages to being five-two."
Tim stood to his six-foot height. "Rub it in. You two better get this treaty finished so Earth can build some FTL ships…with decent headroom."
"There is a little more to the treaty than that."
"Yeah…" He rotated his neck to clear more stiffness. "…but that's my immediate concern."
They were in the four-room guest suite of the ship. Beyond the entry foyer/den, a corridor provided access to three guest rooms, each with a private bathroom. Their luggage was already neatly stacked inside.
Daria smiled and pointed to the luggage. "Getting that put away should help to clear up our stiffness."
"You know, it really wasn't that far to walk hunched over," he joked and picked up a pair of bags.
Daria picked up two and followed, they put them down in the room to the left. Tim looked around. "Still a creature of habit. This is the one you used on our way here."
"Worse than you think: it's the one I've used every time I've been onboard."
He grinned. "At least this time, you won't be alone."
She looked down and shyly smiled. "True. After spending her honeymoon with Mack across the hall, Jane did mention the zero-gravity beds were…intriguing."
Tim looked at his watch and mock-frowned. "But, we'll have to wait on that. If I know your daughter, she'll be here any minute now."
Daria started to unpack. "Probably. I hope Carolyn can handle everything back at the office."
"She's been a good assistant. She'll do fine."
Daria sighed. "Just being concerned."
"Daria, there's still only a couple hundred humans, including tourists, on Nest. The Ambassador's job isn't that hard. It's all the other stuff you do that's been keeping you busy. She won't have to worry about any of that."
"I know. However, those other activities are why I'm seriously considering resigning as Ambassador. Sooner or later, somebody is going to consider my close ties to my children to be a conflict of interest at best, or a security risk at worst."
"Your call. You don't really need the work."
"It did mean a lot, but with things growing, a professional diplomat would be a better choice. Besides, it would give me more time to write."
"Or read."
"Or read. There is still so much of their literature I haven't gotten to."
"I'll stick to their movies."
A chime indicated that somebody was at the door. Daria went over and opened it. "Eveningsky."
Her daughter entered and closed the door. "(Mother.)"
Tim poked his head out. "Hey, good to see you."
"(Tim.)"
All three sat on plush cushions in the room. Daria said, "I hope the other delegations don't object to you coming instead of Autumnblossom."
"(To use one of your old phrases: They will just have to deal. Who would blame her for staying home with her children? I only hope my negotiation skills are even half of hers.)"
Daria thought of how tricky the negotiations were going to be. Many on Earth distrusted the Folk and the other spacefaring species involved, the Seekers. In addition, there was also considerable opposition to the United Nations becoming the sole negotiating body for Earth. Both the Folk and Seekers agreed that trying to deal with over two hundred nations would be unmanageable, leaving the UN as the only logical choice. There was also concern about the UN having control of the proposed Space Fleet.
"I think you'll do fine." Daria reassured her. "You'll just have to be careful about human xenophobia."
"(I am hoping that being the only species to obtain Faster Than Light travel without having to develop it yourself will be adequate incentive. That, and the worlds your people would have available for colonization.)"
Daria snorted lightly. "That's giving us the edge to make the treaty possible. With the world population already over six and a half billion and growing unabated, we need the room."
Tim rested his chin on interlaced fingers. "I'm going to keep a close eye on things. I suspect our mystery force may oppose such a treaty. With a ready-made recruitment base among the various oppositions, they could be large, or get large fast."
"(I suspect that such group may have been the untraced influence on Truelimb that convinced her to try to start a second war with the Seekers.)"
"The question on that remains, how was contact made?" Daria observed.
Tim said, "It would've been nice to have Crystalheart along to help, but I understand his wanting to stay."
"(We do have Folk that can help those of your people that you trust.)"
"I have a select few in mind. I'm not convinced we found everyone who was in the old conspiracy. If it was wider than we had discovered, they could tip off others that we are investigating again. We need to keep this as quiet as possible for as long as we can. Even though that means we have to limit our investigation of Angier Sloane's involvement."
Daria sighed and reached for Tim's hand. "There is one more source of information we may want to use…"
"Your ex."
"Tom may have insights to his father's activities that may let him notice things others will miss."
"Do you trust him with this?"
"After what he told me the last time, I think his guilt over what happened will demand that he help."
Eveningsky removed a computer from her belt. "(Okay, then we can consider him a possible ally. But you will have to be the only contact, to reduce suspicion.)"
Daria nodded, some of her old pain visible on her face. "I understand."
Her voice mimicked in Folk by a belt translator, Daria said, "Don't you think I'm a little too old for this?" Before her, the ship's cook held a gelled juice dessert topped with a small, self-contained light.
Tim stood behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. "You're still breathing, aren't you?"
"Yes, though I'm trying to determine if you will continue." A kiss planted on his cheek hinted at the jest.
The cook shifted nervously on his legs. "(I was not informed of age restrictions on the observance.)"
Daria took the tray from the cook. "There are none. I'm just feeling the years a bit. Thank you for making this."
"(You are welcome, Ambassador.)" The cook backed away and exited the room.
Daria set the tray on a low table, turned off the translator, and faced Eveningsky. "I know you're behind this, too."
"(Certainly.)"
"Thank you both." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's been a little over twenty years since I first met Jane. She was the first person I'd invited to my birthday in years. My sixteenth. I can't wait to see her again."
Tim nudged her. "Turn off the candle so you can make your wish."
Daria shook her head and touched a small button to extinguish the light. "Though it's going to be some time before I know if it comes true."
Quinn Tolliver held the door open and gently tugged on her four-year-old's hand. "DJ, come on."
Tall for her age, the blond girl looked around through her new glasses. "Wow."
Quinn looked down at her daughter. "I always thought you had my sister's eyes. Now I know you got the complete package."
The girl continued to look around in wonder at the newfound clarity. "What I'm supposed to see?"
"Yes, DJ."
She looked up through the stylish, gold wrap-around frames. "These like Auntie Daria's?"
Quinn gently giggled. "Not really."
"Oh. Will she like them?"
"She'll say they're perfect for you."
"Goody."
Quinn looked up at the sky. "Happy birthday, Sis."
Amid the profusion of plants in the hydroponics garden, Daria wiped the sweat away from her face with a rag and growled, "This sucks," while exercising on a treadmill.
From one beside her, Tim grunted, "Sure does."
"Maybe I'll just be a couch potato back on Earth and skip all this."
"You know you can't do that."
She sighed. "Dammit."
He pushed on. "You wouldn't think we'd need this much workout after only two and a half years at nine-tenths gee."
"Trust me; you'll feel even a year."
"Another advantage to being smaller. You'll only feel like you've gained about twelve pounds, while I'm going to feel more like twenty."
Daria gritted her teeth. "But it's all proportional. I'll be just as miserable as you."
"I'm glad they don't have any lower gravity."
"I'll second that."
"There is one thing I'm really looking forward to."
Daria looked at him and smiled. "A nice slice of dead cow."
"Hmmm."
"But you must admit that this diet has probably been good for you."
He laughed. "Compared to my bachelor cooking, almost anything is."
"I still can't believe you got Crystalheart drinking margaritas."
"He married your daughter, so you know he has good taste."
"Well, I can't argue with that. Until he can get those lime trees producing, he's been importing the lime juice. Autumnblossom hasn't exactly been happy with the cost."
"Hey, I've been splitting it with him."
"I know. Not to mention the tequila. I'm glad you aren't trying to produce that locally."
"Which reminds me of the second thing I want: a good cup of coffee."
"Wakebush tea may pack twice the caffeine as coffee, but I can see where you would want some. Jane was the same."
A buzzer brought both to a thankful stop. Tim said, "You know, hanging around you has been a bad influence. I used to keep myself in better shape."
She gave him a friendly kiss. "You've kept in shape…just with different exercises."
On the eve of reaching Earth, Daria sat at a desk with her daughter, going through reports. Eveningsky's quarters were fairly plain, the greatest indulgence was a small bookshelf filled with print books that she kept for personal reading. A habit she picked up from Daria.
Daria remembered an explanation from her first interstellar journey. The space-time curvature formed around a ship while traveling faster than light prevents all forms of communication. She grumbled, "I hate being out of contact for three months. I really hope there are no nasty surprises waiting for us."
"(I'm sure there will be.)"
"I wouldn't bet against you on that."
"(I will be pleased if the revised United Nations charter has been ratified by the time we arrive. I know it was a valiant attempt, but I can understand why nobody would trust the system under the old charter.)"
"Be glad you didn't have to read the drivel that crossed my desk when we first proposed revising the charter."
"(There are still those that say we were wrong to depose Truelimb. I suppose your species should not be any more immune to irrational actions.)"
"Nobody in their right, left or center minds trusted the old system."
"(That was very obvious. It is rare when both our and the Seeker government agree on something at the beginning of a negotiation, like we did on asking for a new charter.)"
Daria laughed. "That, more than anything, told everyone the old version was broken."
"(I look forward to seeing how much progress has been made on preparing your first starport.)"
"Me, too. The Starport commission was right; it has the best combination of isolation and easy access to major transportation that was needed. But, it will be kind of sad seeing places like Kennedy and Baikanour become museums."
"(That your people succeeded in getting that much material into space using rocket technology is still amazing. Nobody else made that much effort until anti-grav technology was developed.)"
"Call us stubborn."
"(If you are any indication…)"
Daria smiled and shook her head. "I suppose I deserved that."
Eveningsky changed reports on the monitor. "(Mother, going onto the next subject, I hope the investigation for the source of that weapon is successful. I am worried about some of the implications.)"
"Agreed. I'm afraid that all we may have done before was to eliminate the parts of that organization that were easy to get to. Almost like a lizard's tail that breaks off to distract a predator while the lizard escapes."
The man in the left chair set a digital assistant on the side-table and blew a large cloud of smoke. "One month before they arrive for the final treaty negotiations. It looks like we will have everything in place."
"Excellent. Our great-grandfathers would be proud of us."
"And we have so many opposition groups to do our work for us once the ball is rolling."
"I'll be happy when we can wash our hands of some of those."
"Just remember, the enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"And when that enemy is gone, you find the enemy of your friend."
"Lawndale Tower, this is Nest Two, request permission to land." The human copilot assigned to Nebulachaser's launch, Captain Eaton, was mainly there to ease communication between the air traffic control system and the pilot, Azurelake, and to provide navigational help.
"Nest Two. You are cleared to land along runway Two-One. Welcome to Lawndale Municipal Airport."
Daria, Tim and Eveningsky sat in the rear of the single compartment of the launch. Daria wore a black business suit with a knee-length skirt. Her feet were in comfortable flats instead of her normal boots. "I didn't really think of it last time, but the higher gravity must have been hard on you three when you first landed at the cabin."
Eveningsky checked the buttons on her dark blue coverall. "(I know I was too scared to notice. After the explosion and the escape, and then the crash landing and the raft, seeing you towering over us was terrifying.)"
Tim grinned. "Yeah, she can be terrifying at times. However, I have a problem visualizing the 'towering' part."
Glaring over the top of her glasses, Daria held her hands a little over two feet apart. "They were only this big at the time, and barely came to my knees when all four feet were on the ground."
Tim looked down with sadness. "That must have been hard on Swiftsong."
Daria looked at him in realization. "With her injuries, I can't imagine what she must have gone through with the higher gravity. She never complained."
For air traffic safety, the launch approached along the standard glide path to the runway, and followed the runway and taxiways at a hover to reach the gate of Lawndale Municipal Airport. When it stopped, a contingent of Secret Service guards took up positions around it.
All were relieved to see only a small crowd of press at the gate. The old days of bulky cameras and microphones were gone. Each camera operator had a small headset that included a microphone, a camera with a small reticule monitor over one eye, and a satellite uplink. A keypad worn on the thigh provided controls for the system.
After stepping onto the pavement for the walk, Tim said, "Glad we did the big press conference at Edwards Starport; this poor place wouldn't have handled it."
Daria looked down the building at the other five gates. "Lawndale never was a teeming metropolis."
Tim laughed. "But you've put it on the map, anyway."
Daria waved to the reporters. "I'll answer a few questions; please don't repeat what was asked a couple hours ago in California. I know all you have reviewed it. However, I am anxious to see my family and friends, so I don't want to be here long."
A tall brunette asked, "Ambassador, where will you be staying?"
"At my Lawndale residence. I paid enough for the place and I've only spent a couple weeks in it in the last four years."
A young man asked, "What about security?"
"The house is on a large, isolated lot. The Secret Service will handle the perimeter security, while members of the Nestheart Guard will provide security inside the home. Both have already arrived and made preparations."
An older man with a mustache asked, "What about transportation to New York?"
"We will be flying."
A woman close to her age, who Daria thought looked familiar, asked, "How does it feel to be a grandmother?"
"To be honest, I didn't expect it to happen this soon." Sandi Griffin. So that's what happened to Quinn's old friend.
The crowd responded with pleasant laughter.
"But I'm very happy with my three granddaughters."
The young man asked, "Inspector O'Neal. Do you know who made the weapon Artie Simmons used to kill Angier Sloane?"
He stepped forward. "No."
The same reporter continued. "Is the weapon currently on Nest for testing?"
"No." Because I just brought it back with us.
The tall brunette asked, "Do you believe Mr. Simmons' story?"
"I think he believes it. With the mystery of the weapon, I won't believe anything until I have firm evidence."
The mustachioed man asked, "Princess Eveningsky, with the news of the new princesses' birth, any possibility of seeing a young man in your life?"
Using a translator, Eveningsky said, "Since Autumnblossom is the only one of us to be biologically receptive to that form of reproduction, the answer is no."
Okay, this is getting silly. Daria began walking forward. "Okay folks, I said only a few questions. We're going to be around for while; you can ask more later."
The Secret Service took the cue and began to move forward with the three, taking them into the reception area of the terminal.
Two sturdy but comfortable cushions were in the interview room of the palace. Crystalheart sat at the desk between them and reviewed military files attached to the job application of the next candidate. "(Hmm. Spent time at the listening post on the People of the Soil, nineteen years ago.)"
A middle-aged woman entered and stood respectfully by the door. Crystalheart motioned to the cushion. "(Please be seated, Snowvine.)"
She sat and said, "(Thank you.)"
He produced glasses and poured water for each. "(You have excellent credentials for this position, from your assignment to the treaty listening post to your current work coordinating interstellar communication satellites.)"
"(I have been fortunate to have a varied career.)"
"(Please forgive a little indulgence. Tell me some of your experiences among the People. I enjoyed my time there, and am intrigued by the stories of those that had to remain undetected.)"
"(I suspected my time at the listening post may have influenced the decision to interview me. I'm not a very good storyteller. It should all be in my records.)"
"(Your records record an uneventful stay of one year. Thirteen of their months.)"
"(I would have thought a prince would have the security clearance.)"
"(I have all clearances. Your records show an uneventful tour. I take it the records are in error?)"
Snowvine was incredulous. "(By the Creator…You don't know?)"
"(What?)"
"(A lot of what happened was deeply classified, so I was not surprised that it did not come up in the Queen Mother's trial.)"
Crystalheart pressed a hidden button to produce electromagnetic white noise in the room to block possible eavesdropping. "(The Queen Mother? Please, tell me everything.)"
As the motorcade approached her house, Daria could see four civilian cars parked out front. She turned to Tim. "It looks like the gang is all here, plus someone extra."
The limousine rolled to a stop and the Secret Service driver opened the door. "Please have a nice evening."
Daria nodded thanks and led Tim and Eveningsky to the front door. She smiled and said, "Chin up, nose up, let's go."
Tim looked at her. "What the hell was that?"
"An interesting memory," she said and opened the door.
"(Mother, sometimes, you are weird.)"
Inside, her parents, Jake and Helen, waited. Daria doubted she would ever get used to their gray hair or her father's cane. She smiled and gently shook her head when they called her "Sweetie" and "Kiddo" as they embraced.
Jake grabbed Tim's hand. "Welcome to the family, my man."
Tim shook it. "Thanks."
Helen gave him a slightly stiff embrace. "Welcome, Tim."
Jake knelt down and grabbed Eveningsky into a hug. "Grandkiddo! How are you?"
Returning the gesture, she said, "I am well, Grandfather."
Also moving slower, Helen knelt down and said, "Eveningsky, so good to see you."
"Thank you, Grandmother."
Helen gave Daria a friendly scowl. "I still think it would have been polite to tell us about the wedding before it happened."
Daria sighed. "Mom, you know you could never get six months off from work. So it was fairer all around to get married and tell you and Tim's family after the fact. Equal opportunity offense."
"I suppose."
Daria leaned close and whispered, "That way, I got my daughters to pay for it. Remember how much you spent on Quinn?"
Helen smiled. "I should be thankful for that."
Seated at a sofa was Quinn, her blond-haired husband, Bill, and DJ. The little girl jumped up. "Auntie Daria?"
"You've certainly grown since the last time I saw you." She hugged the girl. "I like your glasses." Daria looked at Quinn. "Your mother would have loved to have seen me in something like that."
Quinn grinned back. "You would have looked good in them. But then, you still can't figure out how to dress."
"Quinn…"
"Daria! Your kids are royalty. You really need to learn to dress the part."
"I'll pop out and buy a tiara, how's that?"
DJ ran to Eveningsky. "Wow. You're my cousin. You look cool."
She said, "Daria Jane. You look pleasant tonight. A pleasure to meet you."
The little girl bounced over and said, "Uncle Tim."
Daria moved to Quinn. "Sis, it is good to see you. You seem to be taking care of my niece properly."
"Despite how much you and Mom try to spoil her."
"Told you I would."
Eveningsky said, "Aunt Quinn, I am happy to see you again."
Quinn bent over. "Eveningsky. You are still so cute."
The man in Navy dress whites came over. "Welcome back, Daria."
She put one arm around him. "Hi, Bill. Commander now?"
"Yes, ma'am. And I'm in line to be the next CAG on the Vinson."
"Good luck."
While Tim and Bill greeted each other, Daria turned to a woman with sable-black hair and gleaming blue eyes. "Jane, I've missed you so much."
"Amiga." The two old friends held each other for a long time.
They disengaged and Daria hugged the tall, dark man next with Jane. "Mack. Good to see you, too."
He gently patted his thigh. "I hope I don't get shot like last go -round."
"I think everyone came in peace…this time. Have you enjoyed using the cabin?"
"Thank you. We certainly have."
"Thanks for helping to keep an eye on it while I've been gone."
Tim extended his hand. "Mack. Good to see you."
He shook Tim's hand. "How's married life treating you?"
"I think about as well as it is treating you two." Tim carefully embraced Jane.
Jane gave him a faux serious look. "You better be treating her right."
"Do you think she, or her kids, would let me live if I didn't?"
Jane grinned and hugged him again. "Good point."
Eveningsky hugged Jane's legs. "Lady Jane. A most welcome sight."
"Daria, your kids still have class."
Next, Daria turned to the surprise guests and her smile broadened. "Aunt Amy."
Amy Barksdale-Duvall hugged her niece. "Daria! It's been way too long."
Daria hugged her back. "It has. I'm sorry," she said before stepping aside. "My husband, Tim, and my daughter, Eveningsky. My Aunt Amy, her husband Martin, and their son, Henry."
Tim shook Amy's hand. "I've heard some interesting stories about you."
Amy grinned. "Some of them might even be true." She knelt down. "So here's one of my grandnieces. I must say, you certainly don't take after any of the Barksdales I know."
Eveningsky responded with, "Is that good or bad?"
A tall, impeccably groomed man with graying black hair squeezed Amy's hand. "But that certainly sounds like one."
Daria gave him a brief hug. "Martin. How are you?"
"Amy hasn't thrown me out yet, so I'd have to say, great."
Amy wrapped an arm around his waist. "Eh, I still think you're a keeper."
A teenage boy with short-cropped hair, the same color as Daria and Amy's, said, "If you're gonna get rid of Dad, make sure my college fund is already set up first."
Daria turned and looked up at her only male cousin. "Henry. You're looking well."
He smirked. "As well as possible, considering the parents I've got."
"I know the feeling."
Amy feign-scowled. "You better not be comparing me to your mother."
Helen joined the conversation. "Nobody deserves that."
Still good to see them joking. Too bad it took Rita's death to do it. Daria said, "You two are starting to sound like Quinn and me."
Amy smirked. "I'll take that as a good sign."
Daria looked down for a moment. "How's Erin?"
Helen sighed. "Okay, for now. She's spending most of her time with Mother."
"How is Grammy?"
"Barely hanging in there. I hope you can visit her at least once."
Daria nodded. "I will."
Late in the evening, Daria sat at the kitchen table with Jane and Mack. Tim and Eveningsky had gone off to sleep. Tim had given a wave and said, "Catch up with your friends. You'll know where to find me," as he went into the bedroom.
Jane folded her hands on the table. "Daria…think you could tolerate guests on the trip back?"
Daria smiled. "You want to come with?"
Mack nodded. "To stay."
Daria's eyes opened wider. "I would love that. What about your families?"
"What about them?" Jane closed her eyes. "Daria, you know how I've had to be the responsible one, ever since I was fourteen. I'm tired of it." She opened them. "The most secure I've felt was the years we lived together in Boston, and the months we stayed on Nest." She leaned over and hugged Mack. "He's been a life-saver; I'm still happy you pushed us to finally get married."
"My pleasure."
"But I can't stay in Lawndale any more. Everyone is literally unchanged from when we were in high school. Trent's still waiting for his big break and spending most of his time asleep. Mom's isolated with her pottery, when she's home. The rest of my family drops in at irregular intervals for us to bail them out. Even though Mack and I live at his place, we end up having to clean up after they leave. I'm completely sick of it."
"I can see that. What about Casa Lane? Who will take care of it?"
"It was paid off years ago. We can set up a fund to keep it from falling apart."
Daria smiled. "Mack, what about your family?"
"We've talked with my parents; they understand. But they want to visit eventually."
"I think that can be set up."
"Besides, I got left behind last time." He squeezed Jane. "You owe me."
Jane winked. "He misses those zero-gee beds."
Daria felt a slight blush. "Remember that those are mostly on ships or in hospitals. They're rather expensive to own and operate privately."
Mack smiled. "Okay, so we just have to go on regular cruises."
Daria reached for both friends' hands. "Your honeymoon suite is open."
Over his morning tea, Thomas Sloane looked curiously at the function display on his desk phone: Source of Call Blocked - Visual Display Inactive - Full Encryption Active.
"There aren't that many people with blocking protocols that effective." Warily, he answered the phone. "Hello, Sloane and Sloane Philanthropic Foundation. Thomas Sloane speaking."
He heard a soft gulp on the other end and then, "Hi, Tom. This is Daria."
Rattled, he said, "Uh…hi. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I'm sorry, but I don't know if you would call it pleasure. We may not have identified everyone involved with your father's…activities."
"I see, and you're quietly looking for my help."
"Still direct. Yes."
"You have it."
"Um…thanks. I know I'm asking a lot."
"I've been thinking the same thing the past couple years and have done some investigating on my own. Would you be interested in the results?"
"Very."
"What my father did was reprehensible, but he was the fourth generation in the firm, along with Dennis Grace and Xavier Page. I was expected to be the fifth generation, along with their sons. Dennis and Xavier turned on him awfully fast. Father signed the checks, but nothing happened at Grace, Sloane and Page without all three partners approving."
"I understand. I'm removing the block on the Caller ID. Use this number to contact me."
Tom looked at the number and quickly memorized it. "Got it. I'll send over what I've got, and keep looking. However, there are a couple physical items I think you should see."
"Oh?"
"One is some kind of non-human data storage disc."
"Could be interesting. We should be able to figure out if it is any other species' format."
"While you're at it, you may want to figure out why my great-great-grandfather had it before World War One."
"Your great-great grandfather?"
"Yes, along with a diary written in code that I haven't been able to decipher. Would you perhaps have access to professional cryptographers?"
"I think so. But Tom, any contact between us may be suspicious. Particularly if your father's old partners are involved."
Tom scratched his head. "Um…the foundation regularly buys artwork. Do you trust Jane if I leave them there?"
"I've literally trusted Jane with my life."
"I haven't seen her since she helped you move out. Could you please ask her not to kill me?"
"I'll warn her."
"You're being awfully trusting."
"Partially. I believe what you told me when we talked in the park and that you want to help, but my experience tells me to make sure that Jane is guarded. She will be."
"I understand."
"Tom…Thank you."
"You're welcome."
This is something I never dreamed I would be doing. Clad in her business suit, Daria sat across the desk from the newly elected Secretary General of the United Nations. The middle-aged Brazilian carefully read the letter she'd handed him moments earlier.
He looked up. "Mrs. Morgendorffer-O'Neal, you're correct. With the increased contact between ourselves and the Folk, your close tie to the royal family is now considered a conflict of interest. It is for that reason only that I accept your resignation as Ambassador."
"Thank you."
"I will forward your recommendation of your assistant, Ms. Carolyn Whittier, to the Senatorial Assembly for confirmation as the new Ambassador."
"She deserves it."
"You do realize that you will no longer be directly involved in the treaty negotiations."
"Yes. That's why I chose to step down now. My conflict of interest could be used by those who want to disrupt support for the treaty. By stepping down now, that is averted, and I can continue working with my daughter."
"However, I will request that you open the first session tomorrow, in recognition for all you have done to bring three species together."
"I can do that."
"StoneFastCollector Tolerance, welcome," Daria said to the Seeker representative. The automatic translator for the conference room simultaneously translated to each person via a small earphone. She turned to her daughter. "Princess Eveningsky, welcome." Finally, Daria faced the UN negotiator. "Mr. Jonathan Campbell, welcome."
StoneFastCollector turned his large, solid black eyes toward her. "Thank you." Fine gray scales covered his skin. Long, slender fingers emerged from the flowing sleeve of his almost impossibly complex green garment and rested on the table. "My greetings to you, Princess Eveningsky."
"My greetings to you from Queen Truemind."
"And to you, Mister Jonathan Campbell."
The veteran diplomat with blond hair nodded to both his counterparts. With a faint Scottish accent, he said, "My greetings to both of you. Welcome to Earth. I hope you find your stay enjoyable and the negotiations fruitful."
Daria looked around. "Why don't we get started?"
Mr. Campbell rose and used a laser pointer to direct everyone's attention to a wall display that showed an organizational chart.
"The request of both Seeker and Folk governments for a single entity to deal with has provided the push for much-needed revision of the United Nations charter. As before, each nation is independent to choose and operate their governments. The purpose of the revised UN is to provide a forum for dispute resolution, and to present a single point for interstellar diplomacy."
He moved the pointer around to highlight different sections. "The two bodies of the bicameral legislature are the Representative Assembly and the Senatorial Assembly. Based upon the United States of America model, the Representative Assembly will have six hundred members, with proportional representation based on national population. The initial allocation will be based on national population estimates the UN had on hand before this plan was announced. A world-wide census will be attempted in twenty-twenty to derive a better estimate. The Senatorial Assembly will have one representative per nation. Each nation is free to choose their representatives and senator as they see fit. There are considerable internal changes to address the previous problems of corruption and inefficiency. Please see the provided data files for more information."
He changed the display image. "The UN will have authority over the space fleet, but will not have a standing army on Earth. Selective enlistment preference in the fleet will be given to nations with established space programs. The initial officer core will come from experienced astronauts."
Another slide change. "Planetary colonization will be open to any who request. Each colonized planet will be recognized as an independent nation within the UN. The UN will be authorized to establish self-defense forces on each planet from the colonists."
Final slide. "In exchange, Earth expects to adopt Faster-Than-Light drive technology with assistance from the Folk and the Seekers to independently colonize and patrol these planets in the treaty buffer zone, and any unclaimed star systems above or below the galactic ecliptic beyond the borders."
Daria gave a slim smile. "Thank you."
Eveningsky rose. "We agree, upon successful treaty negotiation, to help the People of the Soil to develop advanced space travel capabilities, including, but not limited to, Faster-Than-Light drives. To the Seekers, we unequivocally release any and all claims to the four star systems lost in the previous military conflict."
StoneFastCollector formed his long fingers together into a complex pattern. "The Seekers also agree to assist the People in the development of advanced spaceflight capabilities. To the Folk, we acknowledge their right and proper claims to the remainder of the disputed star systems."
He looked directly at Daria. "To you, personally, we extend our gratitude for preserving the lives of the Queen and Princesses of the Folk, thus ultimately preventing a second war between our species. Probably millions of lives were saved by your actions."
Daria blushed in response. "Thank you. I had no such plan in mind at the time. I was honestly only concerned with protecting three young lives."
"But from such small acts of good, come greater."
The physician read from a thick folder as he walked with Tim. "A major reason for Mr. Simmon's irrational behavior was withdrawal from a veritable pharmacy of psychoactive drugs. I'm afraid that there was permanent harm done to him."
"But is he doing better?"
"Yes. However, he still cannot clearly discern fact from hallucination during those years."
"Thanks. I'll take it from here."
Tim entered the unadorned room. Inside were a simple table and two chairs. Artie Simmons sat in one of the chairs, clad in khaki-colored scrubs. Tim sat in the other chair.
"Artie. Do you remember me?"
He beamed. "Investigator O'Neal. I'll never forget, you're the man that exposed the traitors of humanity."
Tim smiled. "I know you've been asked some of these things many times. I just want to make sure on a few counts."
"Okay."
"You say that Grays are the aliens that performed the experiments on you."
"Yes."
"Are you sure that they were not Seekers?"
He shook his head. "Seekers are way too tall and they have the funky scaly skin. Grays have smooth skin and are much smaller."
"Thank you. Next. You say that the first time you encountered them, they flew a cone-shaped craft that was about fifteen feet long."
"Yes."
"Later, they collected you again and replaced your skin."
Artie shivered. "Y…yes."
"Easy. For years after that, they picked you up at regular intervals and examined you."
"Yes. They attached a huge vacuum device to suck out my memories."
"Did they inject you with anything during these examinations?"
"They stuck needles all over me."
"I see."
"The worst was the time the Sex Goddesses lured me into a trap by ordering pizza. They caused me to lose my job, and they did the most unspeakable things to me."
Tim rolled his eyes. "One last question. Will you allow us to do some tests on your skin? To understand what the Grays may have done to you."
"Will you stay with me?"
Tim sighed. "Yes, I'll stay with you."
"Okay."
Early in the afternoon, after stops at four other galleries in the Baltimore suburbs, Tom Sloane stopped his car along Lawndale's Dega Street. He grabbed his briefcase as he exited the car and looked at the sign - Gallery Lane.
He swallowed and quietly said to himself, "Here goes."
Jane looked up at the approaching man and felt her stomach clench. She forced a calm voice. "Hi, Tom. Daria said you would be by."
Tom gave her a nervous smile. "I really am looking for some pieces for a charity auction, so I'll look around." He set the briefcase on the counter and carefully popped the latch open. "The items for Daria are on top." He went to the front of the store and started perusing paintings.
Jane removed the leather-bound book and disc from the briefcase and placed them under the counter. I recognize that from when I was acting Ambassador during Daria's trial - a Seeker data disc.
Jane looked at Tom, who had picked up a painting. He looked much older and worn. "Um…How are you doing?"
He half-turned. "Okay. Elsie and I combined our inheritance to form the Foundation. We accept a stipend from it for living expenses." He fully turned and gave a small smile. "You can't consider me a rich kid anymore."
She raised a half-smile. "You don't look like you're doing too badly to me."
Tom looked down. "We're by no measure poor. We have to maintain certain appearances for our efforts. Our stipends are fairly generous, but they are nowhere near the money we had before." He looked back up. "And we have a real purpose now, besides making more money."
They lapsed into silence while Tom finished looking and brought five paintings over. "I'll take these." He handed Jane a credit card and tax-exempt credentials.
Jane started going through the paintings. "How is Elsie?"
"Still with Alice. She's really helped my sister get through all this."
"Elsie was always kind of sweet. I'm glad she has someone."
When Jane held up one of her paintings to record the transaction, Tom said, "You'll appreciate the irony. I really can't afford one of your pieces for myself, anymore."
Jane looked into his eyes. "Out of curiosity, do you still have that self-portrait?"
He smiled. "The only Jane Lane I'll ever own. Yes, I still have it. It…is a connection to a long-lost past for me."
"I hope that's a good thing."
"It is. I hope Mack is still a good thing for you."
Jane smiled. "He is. If you don't mind my asking, anyone in your present?"
He shook his head. "No. Haven't really looked much."
Jane finished the transaction. "Tom…I know Daria has forgiven you for what happened. It's time for me to do the same."
Embarrassed, he said, "You don't have to."
"Daria's rubbed off on me. I threw in a little discount for your Foundation. On me, no discussion."
"Thanks."
She reached over the counter to hold his hand. "I also think she would say it's time for you to forgive yourself. Maybe…let somebody into your life again."
He looked down at the hand that hadn't touched his since they were seventeen. "I'm working on it." He inhaled deeply. "If those items are as important as I think they are, I may be able to."
Jane nodded. "Tom, thanks for dropping them off. I have a feeling they're going to be very important…for all of us."
Tom looked worried. "Dad was into things a lot deeper than we thought. I've found too many files not only deleted, but the empty space on the drives zeroed out. Somebody didn't want things about him discovered."
"Tom, be careful."
"You, too."
Tom put the receipt in the briefcase. "Good-bye, Jane." He carried it and the paintings to his car. After putting them in, he looked back and waved.
Jane waved and watched the car leave. "Good-bye."
That evening, Jane stopped by Daria's house to drop off the items. "Hey."
Tim stepped back from the door to let her in. "Any trouble?"
"Nah, Tom was well behaved. The protesters at the driveway made a little noise, but that was it."
Daria came in from the bedroom. "Hi, Jane. How'd things go?"
"Good. Tom made some nice purchases and dropped off the goods. I couldn't believe it; he looks like he's aged ten years more than us."
"I suppose all this has been hard on him."
"He looks it."
"I appreciate what he's doing with this. I hope he gets better."
"Now that I've seen him…so do I. He also said that Elsie is doing well."
"That's good to hear."
Jane set down her oversized purse and removed the contents. "Okay, we have one diary of Irving Sloane, Tom's great-great-grandfather." She placed the volume on the coffee table. "And we have one Seeker data disc. At least one hundred years old."
Eveningsky reached for it. "(Please?)"
"Sure." Jane handed it over.
After inspection, Eveningsky said, "(This is one of their old discs. Just a moment.)" Eveningsky removed a computer from her belt and allowed the camera to scan the writing on the disc. "(Oh, my.)"
Daria said, "Something wrong?"
"(This is a military disc; the title is in code. One that matches a code the Seekers used during the war…which we were never able to decipher.)"
Tim said, "We are all on supposed good terms…think they would provide us with a translation?"
"(I will make the request. But just to be certain, I will make a copy.)"
Turning the disc over several times, StoneFastCollector said, "I will pass this on to the captain of the cruiser that brought me here, Prairieraptor. She has a hobby of naval history and will probably have a copy of the decoding algorithm. I will send you a translation as soon as possible. Where did this come from?"
Daria said, "We're not certain. It was included in some personal effects that were at least one hundred of our years old. Were your people making landings then?"
"That would be not long after the listening post was established, but they would have used the Intelligence Code, not the Naval Code. I wonder…"
Eveningsky reared her head back. "Is it possible?"
He tilted his head. "Except the survey ship that charted the star system over fifty years earlier, the Firewing was the only ship to make a close approach before the treaty. But it had a reactor failure high in the atmosphere. Nothing like this should have survived intact."
Eveningsky said, "Even during the war, our ships could eject a failing reactor…would not your ships be able to?"
Clear membranes blinked over his eyes. "Yes, they could. We had assumed the Firewing was destroyed because no distress was sent and no wreckage was found. We know of its loss by the report from the Folk cruiser that crippled it. That ship reported an explosion in the planet's northern hemisphere consistent with a reactor explosion."
Daria said, "The Tunguska Event of Nineteen-Oh-Eight. Near the end of your war. I wonder; could the crew have used a lifeboat…like my daughters did?"
"Lifeboats have automatic beacons. None were detected."
Daria shook her head. "All this speculation is fun, but I think a good translation will be more useful."
"Agreed." He looked at the disc more. "I'll make a high priority request for any further information that may be relevant."