* * * * *

  “Who are you?” lieutenant Kusao asked, recollecting himself moments after the strange girl had appeared. Then he hit his head with the palm of his hand, realizing that she would not understand him.

  Knightwood and Zhdanov had appeared, and cautiously offered her the vial of the sacred water that Zhdanov held. The girl remembered the strange movement the creator had taught them to show acceptance and twisted the corners of her mouth.

  She had neither teeth nor a tongue, but her smile was surprisingly beautiful, conveying a purity of thought and action without self-consciousness. She took the vial in dexterous hands and held it up to her lips, silently drawing in the life-giving solution and returned the vial to the creature that had offered it. Could he have been from the creator’s world? the thought came to her. Her first ancestor-mother’s memory recalled the creator’s vials that she had drunk, solutions that had changed her thoughts and the very form of her body.

  “What is she?” Kusao asked the scientists, regarding her with wonder.

  “I don’t know—some kind of sentient plant species,” Cheung suggested. “But what explains the human form?”

  “Well, now we know why we didn’t pick up any traces of large animal life forms,” Romanik cleared his throat. “But are there any more of her kind?” he wondered aloud.

  “The rest of them have probably not arisen from the ground. The sun rose only a few hours ago.” Erin interrupted.

  Knightwood turned to regard her dubiously. “Hmm. That’s a good hypothesis, but we’ll have to scout the area and check it out. We’ll need to contact the ship and let them know what’s going on,” she added.

  “Done,” lieutenant Garrick returned to the shuttle to contact the other members of their team and the Discovery bridge.

  “No—we should not disturb them while they replenish themselves,” Erin suggested.

  “And how do you know?” Knightwood asked. She was beginning to suspect that Erin Mathieson was keeping something to herself. The thought suddenly occurred to her that the girl she knew as Erin Mathieson could actually be a product of the deliberate continuation of Earth’s genetic “super-being” experiments. Perhaps she had been hidden in the rural zones of Earth to escape detection, and only accidentally found when the Discovery crashed in the rural zone near the UESRC. How else could Erin have mastered the ability to understand alien speech? Unless—in that case, she already knew everything Knightwood thought. Knightwood shrugged off the ludicrous idea—if Erin were telepathic, then she would have contacted Knightwood telepathically by now, surely.

  “The girl told me,” Erin answered evenly. Then she furrowed her brow, listening to a soft whisper like a gentle breeze, and said, “she wonders if we have come from ‘the Federation’.”

  “She told you,” Knightwood repeated, then stared, confused. Dared she believe that Erin was right? she thought; could it be that Erin had understood the strange creature? If what she said was true, though, it was no wonder that the girl had not run from them—she had seen visitors before. That would mean that there must be an intelligent, highly advanced race somewhere in the vicinity. Perhaps since she recognized them and had mistaken them for inhabitants of this Federation, they had been like the humans the crew had heard lived on Tiernan. A human Federation? Knightwood repeated the question in her mind. Was that possible? Was the Earth merely an ancient colony who had lost contact with its mother world?

  Erin smiled, understanding the lom-vaia girl. To the girl, all animal humanoid forms were tantamount—like the creator—but not like her own people. That was why she had assumed they had come from the Federation, though she did not even understand what the Federation had been.

  “Can you tell her where we come from and what we’re doing?” Knightwood thought to ask, hoping to take advantage of their good fortune. “Can you speak with her as well as understanding her words?” she added.

  “Yes, I think so,” Erin sighed and took a deep breath. Suddenly the same soft whispers emerged from Erin’s lips, startling the girl and the crew who were listening. But the lom-vaia girl’s face appeared to comprehend the meaning of what she had heard.

  As Erin spoke, Kusao took a step forward, entranced by the alien. He could not seem to help himself. He didn’t know why he wanted to get a closer look at her, but he didn’t stop to reason it out. As he drew between Erin and the alien girl, he could smell the sweet fragrance like lavender, the scent of her skin.

  Then, as Erin was projecting thoughts to the girl, Kusao’s thoughts and memories appeared from nowhere.

  In that second, the girl took a step back.

  * * * * *

  Beautiful Kyoto! How he missed his home there, back in Japan, before he had gone to live at the Kyoto Academy to begin pilot training. He missed the delicate pink cherry blossoms in spring, the birds, birch trees, and azaleas, the natural spas, falls, and upland regions. He missed the ruins of the ancient past, the mountains and glades that were home to all forms of verdant life, yet most of all he missed his family.

  He hadn’t been home in so long, not since the days in childhood when he and his two older brothers and little sister had been able to wander off in secret, barely able to climb onto the roof of the ancient Shinto temple that had long been abandoned in the neighboring rural zone.

  Then one by one Kusao’s older brothers and finally he himself had left for training to defend the war-torn Earth. In the two weeks of leave before Kusao left for the final three years at the UESRC, he and his little sister May had used their yearly rural zone passes to go on an expedition to the rural zones, to visit the beautiful sights of their native land. Kusao had known this might have been his last chance, that he might never be coming home again.

  Their first stop had been a celebrated climb to the top of the old man, Mount Fuji. An avid climber whenever he got the chance, Kusao had then pressed on to Mt. Mizugaki. They had then stayed a few days with their uncle in Karuizawa, where they had visited the breathtaking Shiraito Falls, neighboring Highlands and spas, and nearby Mt. Asama, surrounded by peach trees; from there they had gone on to Nikko, where they had climbed Mount Nantai by the icy waters of Lake Chuzenji and the spectacular Kegon Falls. Finally, they had gone to Mt. Bandai, surrounded by birch forest, springs, and crystalline lakes, second only in glory to Mt. Fuji.

  During the last week near home in Kyoto, the remaining members of the Kusao family had gone to Lake Biwa and then to their traditional destination of Yoshino-Kumano, where they had paid their respects one last time to the glory of the Nachi Falls. At the end of their hurried sight-seeing, the family had decided to take a trip to the beach a ways from Kyoto, where Kusao had splashed May with salty waves, then buried her in the sand until she couldn’t move.

  The alien girl saw other remembered family trips across the planet to other cities and historical sights of the ancient Earth, but none so clearly as that last day when Kusao and May had said good-bye.

  Then, after years spent in training and in space, she saw the horrors of the infiltration mission, as fresh in Kusao’s mind as if it had taken place but yesterday. After that she witnessed the Discovery’s unexpected launch and the crew’s long, unending journey across the unknown regions of space, their joys and tribulations in all of the months since they had been forced to leave their homes and loved ones behind.

  When Kusao’s memories faded, the girl stumbled backward and looked around as though to discover where they had gone to. Oh, the mountains! She had never seen such things before. Why did these memories yet linger in her mind, even though she knew they were not her own? Why did she regret them fading, and where was their rightful owner?

  Where was he, the one who had given this gift to her, the one who had let her see so much she could never know, born of a race whose fate it was never to leave the sacred sands?

  For a moment she did not dare to move. Finally, she knew, she understood the creator’s word. She had never before known loneliness, even after years and generations o
f wandering alone. Yet now, though the fresh, bright world around her had not changed, it suddenly seemed somehow empty and forgotten. Her voice rose like a cold wind, mournful and melodic.

  Was it a curse or a blessing? she thought, though she could not determine the answer. Like the creator, she was no longer ignorant of loneliness. With that knowledge, she would never again be the same.

  * * * * *

  The team that had gone to check out the jungle rendezvoused by the shuttle fifteen minutes later. The alien creature had stayed with them as soon as she spotted Kusao among the others; now she was seated beside the young Japanese lieutenant, keeping by his side as though attached to him, imitating his posture of elbows on knees. Kusao didn’t seem to mind.

  Zhdanov listened as Erin translated the memories of the girl, of a creator from the land of Enor and the alteration of the lom-vaia people. When the fighters returned, Knightwood rejoined the group to hear the tale as Erin explained it again for their benefit. “All done—we can return to the ship any time,” she announced once Erin had finished.

  “The girl has invited us to her people’s civilization—I think she’s referring to their city. The record-keepers will be able to tell us more about the creator, she says. We’re welcome to stay as long as we wish. But will Colonel Kansier be needing us back?”

  Kusao looked up expectantly at Zhdanov.

  “Perhaps we can spare a few hours.” Zhdanov shrugged. “Knightwood and I would like to determine if there are other human civilizations near here. But we’ll need to get back to the ship with these samples. Then we can see about an extended visit, and possible reciprocating their invitation by letting some of them visit our ship.”

  The girl listened as Erin translated his answer, and broke into a natural smile. Taking Kusao’s forearm into her own strong supple hand as she stood, she waited to lead the others back to the jungle.

  * * * * *

  Dammit, they follow us everywhere, Kansier thought. The bridge radar specialist, Lieutenant Hans Rheinhardt, waited for his response. But how do they always know where we are? How are they able to follow us—to match our speed, to anticipate our every action?

  “Where are they now?” he asked aloud.

  “We can’t determine the main ship’s location, sir. But the alien fighter cruiser is definitely heading towards us,” Lieutenant Rheinhardt updated.

  “Contact the shuttle team and tell them to get back to the ship, lieutenant Wolf. The Discovery’s density shields are down—we’ve got to get out of here. The electromagnetic shield hasn’t been working since the last battle.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll relay the message.”

  “And send out ten squadrons of fighters to protect them. They’ll be out in the open.”

  “Yes, sir.” Sekuwan Fish turned back to the communications console.

  “Sir, the ship’s engines aren’t responding. We can’t break orbit,” one of the navigators, Lieutenant Lee turned around in the seat for further instructions.

  She won’t take off without the others, Kansier thought, flummoxed. And there’s nothing we can do.

  “Make that fifteen squadrons.” Kansier coughed. “Who knows how long we’ll be here.” I hate to admit it, he thought, but our lives are in Discovery’s hands.

  * * * * *

  The other lom-vaia people had welcomed them to their city. The tall jungle trees had been woven together to form an irrigation system for the small clearing of sacred soil, the flat leaves joined together to collect pools of rainwater. And yet they had achieved the system without killing the living trees that fed the young seedling children.

  The lom-vaia had no need for a roof; instead of drawing the canopy together, they had gently pushed the leaves apart overhead to let in the sky, the sun, and the rain. The inhabitants only returned under the canopy to escape the hottest time of the day.

  The city had no walls or partitions, but was composed of living creatures, the lom-vaia themselves, who spent their time together enjoying the world and telling tales of their wanderings, of the strange vegetation to the south, and discussing better ways to transport the sacred sea water to the seed children. They had nothing much to do or to consider, and were content sitting in the sun.

  The lom-vaia children stopped growing after reaching a height of five to six feet. Their green hair continued to grow, but their need for food decreased. As the more adventurous members ventured away to visit others of their kind and vary the composition of the seedling children, their need for energy again increased. The lom-vaia could only travel short distances without replenishing themselves, pushing their lower limbs down deep into the soil.

  During the cool period, most of them clustered together to escape strong cold winds, but a few woke up at a time to bring more of the sacred life waters to the rest, to nourish the sacred soil where seedling children and mature lom-vaia waited for the longer days of sun to return.

  The record-keeper spoke of the creator’s egg far to the north. Long ago their people had taken the egg and buried it in the sands, but the creature had not grown to life again. No doubt the egg remained under the ground.

  Erin finally told the others about the grey-skinned people that the record-keepers remembered. Listening to the stories, Knightwood felt a strange sensation of awe overpowering her. So, the Discovery’s original crew had been here, had invited the lom-vaia to join its Federation!

  Now they had proof that two main powers had been at work—a Federation and the Empire they had heard of on Tiernan. She considered the facts evidence in support of her hypothesis that one of the powers had discovered the Earth and that the two races had rushed to claim the world. She wanted to believe that the Federation ship Discovery and its compelling humanoid crew had discovered the Earth, that the Charon aliens were in fact representatives of the Empire that had attempted to reach the Earth first and conquer it; her mind balked at the possibility that the Discovery’s crew had been the usurpers, members of the Empire, whatever their intentions had been.

  During the record-keeper’s tale of the grey-skins’ visit, the lom-vaia presented them with seedlings and invited them to eat. Zhdanov had just asked how the grey-skins communicated with them, and waited for Erin to translate the reply, moving aside as the lom-vaia man placed a large dried leaf before him.

  “The same way we lom-vaia contact our brethren over great distances, in the ancient manner of our people.” Erin answered after a pause. “Our silent song travels the wind—it lives in the air, and we can hear thousands of our own kind at once. The grey-skins spoke to us without words, their thoughts coming to us through the air but without sound. They were with us at once, and we understood them, and they could hear us without our speaking to the wind.”

  “Telepathy,” Zhdanov nodded, and the word made an impact on Knightwood’s gut feelings. She looked up at the face of Erin Mathieson, the girl who calmly translated these words that also explained her inordinate abilities and behavior. Perhaps it wasn’t Cameron at all that changed her—perhaps it was Discovery itself that gives her this power. Knightwood thought and shivered. But how?

  “What is this?” Kusao asked the girl they had met, who was seated beside him, but he could not understand her reply.

  Erin waited a moment and answered him. “They are from the seedlings they have cultivated since the creator guided them here. They are grown in every city on this planet in memory of him, but they have no use for them. They think that since we are like the creator—an animal in humanoid form—that we may require its sustenance as he did.”

  Kusao took a bite of a sweet and juicy, red bulbous fruit, almost the size and shape of an eggplant and laid it back upon the dried leaf. Minutes later, he felt almost giddy with energy, though he had only taken a few bites. The others enjoyed the fruit in silence, listening to the strange whispering voices of the lom-vaia. Eight hours had passed since they left the ship, and any food was welcome.

  Knightwood asked if she might take some of the fruit with them, and the lo
m-vaia brought them several more of the seedlings and some other plants of the creator’s they had not given them yet. The creator had preferred the red plant, but ate the others at times.

  The team relaxed until twilight, enjoying the view of the starlit sky through the canopy. All around them, the lom-vaia were preparing to sleep, selecting a spot of soil to replant their roots. The alien girl remained beside Kusao a while longer, when Knightwood suggested someone return the samples to Discovery. The others appeared inclined to stay with the lom-vaia until morning to extend an invitation to visit the Discovery.

  Kusao in particular thought it might be inhospitable to leave suddenly without informing their hosts, who were now mostly asleep.

  But the signal from the ship changed everything.

  * * * * *

  Despite the sudden timing of the human team’s new orders, the alien girl refused to leave them and guided them through the safest way back to the sacred seas. She took them on a new route that left the sleeping lom-vaia undisturbed, for as Erin explained, they could die if suddenly removed from the soil. Loud noises and reverberations too near the ground could shock them into awaking early. At the least they might lose their lower limbs and live a shorter life, immobile and dependent upon constant draughts of the sacred sea’s life waters, no longer able to drink from the soil. The lom-vaia could regenerate an arm after the first-child, but they could no longer regrow the roots formed in the sacred soil with which they had been born.

  When the team reached the shuttle, the aliens had arrived. Already they could see flashes of light in the crepuscular skies above, where the Discovery’s squadrons struggled to protect the shuttle below from the alien fighters. Once the scientists were safely aboard, the others hurried to their fighters to provide an escort back to the ship.

  Kusao’s engines had flared; he had finished checking his gauges and prepared to lift-off when he saw that the alien girl hadn’t moved from the spot where their shuttle had been. He heard a loud crash to his left where Erik Ross evaded enemy laser fire, taking his fighter up. Then, to his dismay, the laser hit the jungle trees and set it on fire. Kusao heard the shriek of the lom-vaia echoing through the forest.