reality of the view, he could go no farther.

  "There may be a limiting radius of operation for the cryptikon in its line of sight," Direk theorized.

  "There was one other cryptikon," Zakiya said.

  Iggy turned back to the reality of Aylis's office in the hospital, moved to where the cryptikon's controls floated, and selected another location. Reality snapped from one place to another, then urgently reduced itself to match scale. Close walls became gently tangible and pushed them closer together. Aylis's office now lay beyond a doorway, appearing less real than the small ship's quarters they now crowded within. Aylis clutched Zakiya for want of her protection, her deep concerns for her relationship with her closest friend totally lost in the moment.

  They could see only by the light coming from Aylis's office. A man lay on a bunk with several shiny tubes or wires connected to his body. He moved as though in a restless sleep. He uttered pitiful sounds: word fragments, pseudo sentences. He screamed again.

  "Patrick!" Zakiya shouted. "Pat! Wake up!"

  The man's fitful sleep altered, as though he heard Zakiya, and he started to wake up. A light shone on his face.

  "Incredible!" Iggy held a handlight he used for engineering inspections. The beam illuminated the sleeping man. The man awoke and opened one eye. He squinted at the light and put a hand up to block the beam.

  "Patrick, can you see us?" Aylis asked.

  "Who are you?" the man croaked. "What are you? Am I dreaming?"

  "Pat, this is me, Zakiya," she said. "And Aylis. And her son Direk. And Iggy."

  "Who?"

  "People you once knew, Pat. We've found you at last!"

  "You're ghosts! It's not enough that Alex has to stomp up and down the hallway every night! Now I have to deal with you! Go away!"

  "Damn!" Iggy swore. "You're more aged than I am, Pat."

  He put his hand out and reached toward the man in the bed, who drew back from him.

  "Don't you remember me?" Iggy asked. "You were at my wedding. You gave my bride a most friendly kiss. Too friendly!"

  The man looked again at Iggy and slowly reached toward his hand. Their fingers seemed to touch. The man jerked his hand at the contact, then returned it and took Iggy's hand in his.

  "Are you really here?" Patrick Jenkins asked, shaking Iggy's hand slowly.

  "We aren't here," Zakiya said, "but we will be soon."

  "But I can feel you!" Jenkins declared.

  "It's the cryptikon," Iggy started to explain. "We're very far away. We'll come for you. We..." Iggy stopped talking and started shaking.

  Aylis was staring at the joined hands of Iggy and Pat, fascinated beyond words by this miracle, hardly aware of Iggy's distress, until Pat's hand vanished. The entire alternate reality, including the odors, vanished as well. She was standing in shock in her own office, holding onto Zakiya, while Direk tried to catch the collapsing Iggy.

  2-25 Remembering Dick, Visiting Patrick

  "I'm sorry!" Jamie had hurt her mother, and she was trying not to hurt her! Was there nothing she could do correctly in her mother's presence? What kind of relationship could she ever hope to have with this woman? Would she always need to depend on her mother's guilt for having abandoned her, to keep her love?

  "I'm not very good at this," Zakiya said apologetically.

  "I don't understand. You're fast - faster than me - but you aren't really aggressive and sneaky. Is it because I'm your daughter and you don't want to hurt me?"

  "Yes. That's my excuse!" The admiral picked herself up from the training mat and dabbed at a cut on her face.

  "I'm sorry," Jamie repeated. She put her arm around her mother and walked her toward the locker room.

  "I shouldn't have forced you to practice with me," Jamie said. "Sammy has told me some disturbing stories. I was curious about your skills."

  "Please, don't encourage him to recall such things," Zakiya asked.

  "I told him he shouldn't be proud of you for what you did. You only did what you had to do. Who were the two soldiers you fought? Where was that? I almost accused him of fabricating the incident."

  /

  Why can't I relax and feel normal around Jamie? Zakiya asked herself. What is normal? How are we, in any practical sense, mother and daughter? "I've always disliked personal combat," Zakiya said.

  "So, naturally," Jamie said, "I picked that activity as my excuse for meeting with you."

  Zakiya laughed, pleased that Jamie simply wanted to be with her. Why did she need to make of her daughter such a problem? Jamie had a tragic history but she was a survivor. It was the future they would share that was important. "I should explain that I'm a product of the Mnro Clinic's secret research labs," Zakiya said. "I'm augmented in ways I never thought possible. My skill level only rises in response to the perceived threat, and I can't imagine you wanting to hurt or kill me. What did you really want to talk about?"

  "Oh, nothing," Jamie replied. "I just wanted to be with you for a little while."

  "That's nice. That's perfect. I won't violate Jon's orders by asking the wrong questions. I won't strain our relationship by trying to be the mother I never was. I'll close my mouth now!"

  /

  Jamie laughed, relieved her mother was almost as nervous as she was, and probably just as anxious to establish a good relationship.

  They entered the locker room. Her mother began to undress. Jamie hesitated, feeling self-conscious.

  "Not showering?" Zakiya asked.

  "I seem to have an inhibition to be naked in the presence of my parent," Jamie admitted, but stripped down for a shower.

  They showered and dressed, then walked down to the lake and sat on a bench. Jamie had sensed her mother noticing her scars when they were naked. She assumed her mother knew Marines collected scars - a silly tradition, but anything to set them apart from saner individuals. "I've got a good collection of scars," she commented. She felt relaxed. She just wanted to hear the wonderful tone of her mother's voice.

  "You were a Marine." Her mother sat next to her with her head back, her eyes closed, and the warmth of the fake sun on her brown face.

  "I should have them removed," Jamie said.

  "I was trying not to look," Zakiya said.

  "I don't think you like them."

  "Is what I think that important to you? No, I didn't say that! I want so much for you to like me, Jamie." Zakiya touched Jamie's arm tentatively and Jamie moved to grasp her hand, making Zakiya smile. "Scars are a trademark of the Fleet, Jamie. When I saw them on you I had that unpleasant association."

  "The Fleet? What fleet is that?"

  "I realize now that Sammy has probably talked to a great many people on the ship. He's extremely intelligent but now I remember what children are like. He may have caused too many incorrect rumors."

  "You promised me a fantastic story," Jamie said, "that would justify your bringing Sammy on this mission."

  "So I did. Here it is."

  Her mother told a fascinating and terrifying story, one Jamie wouldn't have believed until recently. It was especially shocking and almost beyond believing, that real aliens existed within the highest levels of authority in the Union! The idea almost robbed her of the experience of getting to know her mother. At least, she could begin to gain a greater understanding of her mother. She could begin to gather a feeling of rapport with the woman. She ached to ask her about her former lives and the man she married - Jamie's father. Also, how did she and Aylis remain focused on a plan that spanned more than two centuries and required them to forget the most important reasons for even having the plan? How did they survive both physically and mentally, to reach this point in their saga? There was too much to talk about in one quiet afternoon that was soon interrupted.

  "Aylis?" her mother said.

  Jamie turned her head to look behind the bench where they sat. Aylis Mnro lay on the green grass in the shade of a sycamore, partially concealed by the tree trunk and an azalea bush.

  /

  Zakiya was almos
t relieved to see Aylis, even if her odd presence might be a symptom of her continuing emotional illness. She leaned over the backrest of the park bench to get a better look at her friend. Dressed in white pants and a loose gray pullover, Aylis's position on the ground gave no preview yet of the expansion of pregnancy to come.

  "How is Iggy?" Zakiya asked, getting up to approach Aylis.

  "Physically good, mentally enraptured," Aylis murmured her reply.

  "I'm glad to see you, Aylis! I think you've been avoiding me. It takes a cryptikon emergency or a wedding for me to see you?"

  Aylis rolled onto her side in the green grass and took a deep breath. Zakiya walked over to Aylis and knelt beside her.

  "Is it the baby?" Zakiya asked her. "Do you need a hug?"

  "No and no," Aylis responded. "Direk has already taken care of that. I'm just... nothing. I'm sorry to bother you."

  "What do you mean," Jamie asked, coming to stand by her mother under the tree, "about Direk taking care of what?"

  /

  "Sorry," Aylis murmured. "That was a violation of my orders." She lay quietly, wishing now she had not come, ashamed of her desire for forgiveness from Zakiya, ashamed of her lack of courage to ask for it, ashamed she could not even tell Zakiya of the terrible thing she had done. She forced her thoughts back to Direk, her only hope for joy, and wondered in a quiet whisper: "How can he be my son?"

  /

  Zakiya listened carefully to Aylis, her augmented sense of hearing catching any clue to how Aylis felt and to why she felt that way, hoping to find any sign she was healing from Etrhnk's assault - and from learning her real son was dead. Zakiya deduced that Aylis did