Because Melody/Yael was the primary parent the little magnet had known. They had brought him coal and metal, and talked to him and been moved by his little successes. They had cherished him. Slammer had been there too, but more aloof, so was not the primary loyalty. As Slammer honored the Captain, so Beanball honored Melody. It was the magnet way. She was a surrogate mother. And so when the crisis of choice came, Beanball had to protect her—even against his father. Obvious—in retrospect. She had tamed the wrong magnet!
Slammer had rebounded. No physical force from the tiny magnet could have accounted for that. It had to be a conscious decision on Slammer's part. Given the conflict between his orders and the welfare of his son, he had chosen the stronger loyalty.
For Slammer was no longer attacking. He hovered quiescently. He could easily have gotten around Beanball, or thrown him out of the way with one magnetic twitch. But he could not change the little magnet's devotion—and perhaps did not want to, knowing it was justified. Perhaps, despite the ferocity of Slammer's actions, his ultimate loyalty had been based on an extremely narrow margin of decision—and now the lead in favor of the Captain had reversed.
"Are you with us, Slammer?" Melody asked, petting Beanball, hardly daring to believe her fortune.
Slammer nodded. No indecision for him, once the balance changed!
"Then you know that those who sought to kill me are false."
Hesitation. Slammer's decision had been based on a personal level, not a philosophic one.
"The Captain and the other officers are hostages," Melody explained. "Captives of alien auras. Haven't you noticed the changes in their imprints?"
Now the magnet nodded affirmatively. The change had not had significance for him before.
"Enemies have taken over their bodies. We must capture them and send away those enemies. Then your real masters will return. Do you understand?" Slammer nodded again, more positively. Melody drew herself upright, feeling good despite her bruises. "Then tell all the other magnets of this ship. You can do that, can't you?" He nodded. "We must govern this ship until the real masters return."
And Slammer was gone. Victory was theirs, for the magnets represented the ultimate disciplinary power aboard the ship. Whoever had their loyalty, had control.
The God of Hosts had answered.
PART II
MISTRESS OF SPACE
10
Lot of *
*notice: trouble in segment etamin*
—details?—
*discovery and capture of dash command by enemy*
—(chagrin!) who is backup command there?—
*slash, then quadpoint*
—conceal the news we cannot risk action yet—
*council will not favor further delay without explanation*
—we must gain advantage galaxy-wide! the situation in segment knyfh is not yet secure, and knyfh is more vital to our thrust than etamin action in etamin now will prejudice that more serious encounter perhaps the backup command in etamin can still salvage the aura we require this has more importance than may be apparent—
*under protest, I yield*
—appreciation, ast you always were an understanding entity I suppose the fact that your kind has five sexes makes you especially diplomatic—
*to call our situation five sexes is not quite correct*
—regrets I was trying to—
*actually, I regard this as an aspect of the lot of ast*
—yes, I am aware of that convention it is a good one, used in many spheres—
Compliments on a masterstroke of strategy, the Captain's note read. Dash was unable to speak because of the mess Skot's laser had made of his mouth. He was missing two front teeth, part of his lower lip, and a section of his tongue; at the moment he was not handsome. We thought the magnets were incorruptible.
"They are," Melody said. "They remain loyal to their galaxy." She kept her voice firm, not wanting him to know what the sight of his grotesque injury did to her. "Please step into the transfer unit."
Without objection, Dash of Andromeda entered the box. He made no plea, no threat; he took his defeat in stride. She was proud of him for that—and dared not show him that, either. She limped over and threw the switch. Her shrapnel wound needed proper attention, and she had a headache and bruises all over her body from the fight with Slammer, but the present task was more important. She could not relax until the flagship was free of hostages.
The indicator on the machine swung down from 176 to 151, and the dominating aural family shifted. The alien aura had gone.
"I hope your new host is in good condition, Dash," Melody murmured. The Andromedan had not been sent home, of course; this little unit lacked the power for interstellar projection, let alone intergalactic. Melody had oriented it on a backward colony planet circling close to Etamin. She had ascertained from Yael's mind that there was a prison colony there that operated very hot mines, where presumably a number of desperate entities lost their auras. The Andromedans would not be able to do much in that situation, but would be well cared for until more permanent arrangements could be made.
Now Skot of Kade stepped forward to assist the man out, while Melody fought again to control her emotions. She had done it; she had sent Dash away! She would probably never encounter him again, and that hurt, despite the chance it had given her galaxy. Had love passed her by a second time?
The Captain seemed dazed. "Sir," Skot said. "You are free now. How do you feel?"
But the Captain slumped, unconscious; Skot barely stopped him from hitting the deck.
"We'd better get a doctor," Skot said. "Something's wrong."
"No," Melody said firmly. "Transfer is harmless to the host. It's probably just the sudden release, and the shock of his physical injury. The only available doctors are in the lower ship, and we can't afford to advertise to the crew what has happened here. We can't even notify Imperial Outworld, because the hostages there could intercept the message and cause trouble for us. As far as Outworld is concerned, this ship is and always was completely loyal—and as far as Andromeda is concerned, it remains secretly hostage."
"More hostages?" Llume inquired. Skot had survived by keeping his laser trained on Captain Dash, thus slowing the organization of the pursuit of Melody, until Melody's victory had relieved him. But Llume's unscathed escape seemed like an act of the God of Hosts; it had surprised and gratified Melody. She liked Llume, and was glad that the magnets had not been assigned to kill her.
"Bound to be more hostages, in this ship and in the fleet. We can't possibly run every crewman through this machine. We'll just have to let them function as they are. So long as they don't know the situation in the officers' section, they probably won't be any trouble. It is a necessary and I think reasonable gamble."
They ran the other hostages through the unit. "That may become a lively prison," Melody remarked. "But I don't think they'll be able to get word to their home galaxy in time to change anything here, and they won't dare risk contacting the hostages of Outworld for fear of exposing them."
At last Tiala, the original hostage, came up. "No," Melody said. "You can't go quite yet. You were the bait that brought me here—and I compliment you on your performance. Because of you, the whole resistance program of Outworld was betrayed. Yet there was substance in your lure: we need the information that is in your mind."
"No," Tiala said, backing off. "I don't know anything."
"My dear, I cannot afford to trust you," Melody said. Her recent experiences had made her a good deal more cynical. "The survival of my galaxy may depend on what I can glean from your mind."
"Please... I will tell you everything I can," Tiala pleaded. "Only don't destroy me! Let me go with the others."
"My dear, I am not going to destroy you. I am merely going to make you temporarily hostage, until I have what I require. Then I will return to my present host, and send you after your friends."
"Don't you understand?" Tiala cried. "Hostaging damages the host-mind! Look at your Captain a
nd his officers! They can't function. It will take months for them to recover, and some may die."
Melody looked around dismayed. "Months?"
"When an aura is forced on an unprepared host it is like rape. Even when the transferee departs, that host is—"
"Months! How can they run this ship?"
"They can't," Tiala said. "You'll have to let them rest and give them rehabilitation treatments until their facilities are restored. If you try to push them, you'll only hurt them worse. And me... you don't have hostaging equipment. If you overwhelm my aura, it will be much worse. I may never recover."
Melody considered. Tiala's aura, like Llume's was very much like her own, and that created a natural affinity. She did not want to hurt the Andromedan. "I am not certain I can believe you."
"Put me under torture! Compulsion drugs! Anything. But don't destroy my aura!"
Melody was forced to take the girl seriously. As a hostage, she ought to know the effects of hostaging. The Andromedan effort had been more brutal than Melody had chosen to believe, but since these aliens were planning to destroy the entire galaxy, why should they care about the welfare of their hostage hosts? No need to save the mind of a creature who would shortly perish anyway.
"What is the secret of hostaging?" Melody asked.
"I do not know. We were told none of it so that we could never betray it. Even our allied Spheres don't know the secret."
"What Sphere does know it?"
"Sphere Dash. They discovered an Ancient site that they call Aposiopesis, one they had missed before, and there it was. There are many very good sites on their Imperial Planet, but they are very hard to penetrate safely. Perhaps Planet Dash was an Ancients' military base or governing capital. So Dash has the secret, and the Council cooperates, because"—Tiala shrugged—"Andromeda needs the energy."
"Sphere Dash," Melody repeated thoughtfully. "It seems I sent the wrong aura away."
Tiala smiled. "Yes. He is the only one who might know. He really is a captain 07 in Andromeda; had he succeeded here, he would have become an admiral."
"A dashing captain," Melody murmured with a brief smile. She could have been an admiral's mate....
"And I," Tiala continued. "I would have jumped rank to 06. Now I will settle gladly for my health."
"Very well. Answer my questions honestly, and I will leave you that."
"Then I would be traitor to my galaxy, and my Sphere of /."
Melody glanced at her with annoyance. Did this alien think she could renege? "It seems you must choose between health and loyalty."
"We have a convention in my Sphere," Tiala said, and Melody was reminded that Andromeda was not organized into segments. Apparently they did not operate as efficiently as Milky Way species, so could not amalgamate into segments. If they had concentrated on efficient use of energy, instead of theft of it, they would have been better off. Was the entire Andromedan galaxy philosophically defective, that they could not perceive this basic truth?
But now she had, through her drift of thought, missed what Tiala was saying. "Would you restate that, please?" Melody asked.
"It is complex to outsiders," Tiala said, mistaking the reason for Melody's request. "It is a compromise between opposing loyalties, with honor. One must perform a certain degree of service, set by circumstance. This is known as the Lot of *."
"I had understood your own Sphere was slash."
"My Sphere is slash. But Andromeda has been effectively unified along Spherical lines for a thousand Solarian years, ever since the First War. We have to a considerable extent merged cultural conventions, at least on Imperial worlds. Sphere Slash has honored the Lot of * for many centuries."
Melody nodded. "As we of Mintaka honor Polarian circularity and exchange of debt. I will consider your convention, if I can comprehend its specific mechanism."
"In this situation, I would agree to answer a number of questions to the best of my ability. You would free me thereafter."
"I am not certain I stand to benefit. How would I be assured of accuracy?"
"Put me in the transfer unit. The fluctuations in my aura will reveal my state. Under the Lot, I am obliged to give responsive answers without deceit, drawing on what I know of your needs. You would get better information than you would in crude plumbing of my aura."
That was possible. Melody found it easier to put a question to Yael than to delve for the answer directly; and Yael was a cooperative, voluntary host. The host always had the best command of its faculties. Now Melody was tired and uncomfortable, and the hostage would not be voluntary. It would not be a pleasant chore. "How many questions?"
"Determined by chance?"
Melody considered again. She didn't want to hurt the girl if she didn't have to, despite her certainty that Tiala had hurt her own host. Why undertake this difficult, perhaps risky procedure, if she had a ready alternative? And time was of the essence; she did not know how much time they had before the other hostages in the fleet caught on to what was happening and attacked. "I agree."
Melody brought out her Tarot cube, another poignant reminder of Dash. "This deck presents Trumps numbered from zero to twenty-nine, and five sets of suit cards numbered from one to fourteen, in effect. Is this a fair range of numbers?"
Tiala nodded. "It is fair. But the dealer controls the presentation."
Melody shook the cube and set it down. The face manifesting on the top surface was the Moon, symbol of hidden things. The Tarot was always responsive! "Select a number from one to a hundred," Melody told Tiala.
"Sixty-four."
"So Sphere Slash has an octal numeric system," Melody remarked. "Skot, key this deck to present the sixty-fourth card in the present order."
Skot, not conversant with the nuances of Tarot cube operation, did it the hard way. He touched the surface sixty-three times, watching a new face appear each time, until the sixty-fourth face appeared. It was the Three of Energy, with flaming, sprouting torches crossing each other.
"Three questions," Melody said. "Agreed?"
Tiala nodded. "You have a certain flair."
"How many hostages are present in the Segment Etamin fleet?"
Tiala concentrated, her brow furrowing prettily. "I can't give the exact figure. It is a massive effort; Etamin isn't considered a major target, not like Knyfh or Lodo or Weew with their sophisticated center-galaxy organization and technology. But Planet Outworld was the origin of the aura that balked us the first time, so...." She considered a moment more. "There are about a hundred ships in this fleet, and I think about four agents were placed on each ship, concentrating on the key vessels. About four hundred total—that's as close as I can make it."
Four hundred hostages! Melody had eliminated only the eleven in the officers' section of this ship! The whole fleet might well be hostage....
But still, there was some comfort in it. With an average of four hostages per ship, the concentration had to be on the officers. The flagship had a greater number, as it was the most important, but still it was unlikely that much effort had been expended on the crew quarters. And the Andromedans' overall perspective was of interest, also; they were most concerned with the center-galaxy segments like Knyfh and Lodo, and not with the Fringe segments like Qaval and Thousandstar—and Etamin. It put her own effort into perspective, such as it was. Tiala had provided a more than responsive answer.
If the Andromedan effort of a thousand years earlier had been organized like this, the hero Flint of Outworld had foiled it by pure luck! How could a Stone Age barbarian have halted the ongoing program of a major galaxy? But by the same token, how could an old female neuter isolated in an officerless ship in space even hope to...?
I wish I had known you, Flint! she thought. For, in addition to his other capabilities, he was supposed to have had a Kirlian intensity of over two hundred, the only other such rating in this galaxy before her own. High-Kirlian entities were doomed to be lonely.
But she had to get on to the second question. "What is the spec
ific locale of the secret of involuntary transfer hosting?"
"I'm not sure. But I think it is Planet £ of Sphere Dash. It is a hotbed of Ancient sites, good ones, regarded as shrines to Aposiopesis. Certainly it is somewhere in that Sphere, and that is where they've set their closest guard, though it is not one of the advanced Dash worlds. It is said to be quite primitive, actually, though the Dash have occupied it for millennia. Now they have a fleet like this one hovering near it."
Planet £ of Sphere Dash in Andromeda. If only the Milky Way could transfer an agent there, undetected. Obviously no frontal approach could succeed.
Melody shook her human head. The task was virtually impossible—but it would have to be attempted. She hardly envied the entity assigned to it!
Now for the third question. Too bad the Tarot had not granted her fifteen questions, but it must have had its reason. Three of Energy—meaning, in the old fashion, strength, virtue, communication, and cooperation. Three of Wands. How did that apply to this situation? She was cooperating with Tiala to gain information for her galaxy that would strengthen it, but there seemed to be little virtue in it without stretching the implications.
Virtue—the missing element. Was that the hint? Should the third question relate to that?
Tiala looked at her expectantly. The aural indication showed increasing stress. Something was preying on her; she was afraid of that third question. That meant there was something vital, something Melody should not miss. What was it?
She couldn't stall; that was not fair play. She had to make her move—right or wrong. Virtue or vice. Maybe....
"What have I overlooked?" Melody asked.
The aural indicator went wild. "How can I know what—?" Tiala demanded, terrified.
Hot on the trail! "That is a nonresponsive remark. You know something I should know. There was no restriction on the type of question I could ask. You are aware of something vital to my interest. Tell me that thing." It could be that this would amount to two questions: the nature of the subject, and the specific information; she would just have to hope Tiala wouldn't think of this.