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  Nyvett stared at him but kept running. “I don’t understand.”

  He looked around. “Ah, you were up here. Ask one of the other pilots. They can tell you what we are and who.”

  She nodded and contacted Hima. “Hima, I know that these are the members of the Nine held hostage, but why do I know their features?”

  Hima chuckled, “Right. Well, they are apparently our progenitors. It isn’t the male pilots that we are descended from, it is the female doctors, engineers, and other researchers, who happened to be related to the pilots because they had large families in those days. The women were separated from their chosen mates during the war, and then, they were never reunited. I am looking forward to digging out those records. I don’t understand why we weren’t told.”

  Nyvett winced. “Because for better or worse, it was better for our society to think of ourselves as entirely human.”

  “Ah, you have a point. By the way, are they all staring at you as you talk to the air?”

  Nyvett looked around. “Yup.”

  “Me, too. Don’t worry. They actually are related to us.”

  “Good. Weird. But good. You know, I have never actually considered that we had proper male ancestors. The pilots were an idea backed up by the presence of the bots. This is just... odd.”

  The men in her command deck laughed. She didn’t blame them. Her half of the conversation was hilarious.

  * * * *

  Corbyn finally had to say, “Myxiorden, would you please sit down. It takes a bit of concentration to run this bot.”

  He looked at her and sat with the others. “Apologies. The tech that has been used in this machine is fascinating.”

  Myx answered, “The machine can hear you. If you have a question, ask me, and let my pilot drive.”

  Corbyn grinned and kept moving. They were almost to the valley, and it felt great to have finished her connection with the old city.

  She didn’t have the patience to answer questions when her mind was spinning. To spend all her life knowing that she was descended from a pilot, only to find that she was instead related to an actual engineer who had an actual relationship with an actual male. It had been easier to believe in genetically manipulated reproduction than a physical relationship starting it all.

  Also, there was the strange matter of the scale of the members of the Nine. She had seen humans, and if they were similarly sized now as then, the thought of their relationship boggled the mind.

  As she ran, she had one question to ask. “Myxiorden or any of you. Why did the Nine come to Hera?”

  The men looked to her ancestor and back to her. One of them answered, “We are explorers, looking for other species to connect with. Our population is naturally skewed to the masculine side of things. Only one in ten in some communities is female. We have a lot of spare males, so we go exploring.”

  Their excitement over daughters and granddaughters and great granddaughters was suddenly apparent. They may have slept for two hundred years, but it had accomplished their goal. They had daughters.

  “So, what was the signal for?” She blurted it out before she knew she had spoken it.

  Myxiorden smiled. “It was to alert our people that there were survivors from our ship and that they should send a ship to us.”

  “There was a mention of family.” She clarified, “In the message.”

  “That was to make sure that they brought testing kits, looking for descendants. It would be nice if there could be a dynasty of Herans mixing with the Nine.”

  “I don’t know of many who would be interested in taking a mate.”

  He quirked his lips. “If you are truly of the Nine, then when you meet one who is mate material, you will know. It was what I felt when I met your eight-times great grandmother, and she was equally besotted with me, despite what her family thought about it.”

  There was a story there that Corbyn wanted to know about, but they were entering the valley, and she had to call a halt to the conversation.

  “Well, we are here. The elders have gathered, so have the last name of your mate and you will know your clan. Myxiorden, I reserve the right to ask you why we didn’t react to any of you when we met you if we are related to the Nine.”

  He nodded and settled as Myx slowly thudded to a halt.

  Corbyn had Myx kneel, and then, she unravelled from the cradle and put her headset on. “Okay, if you tell me the last name of your wife, I can direct you to your elder.”

  Myxiorden smiled, “Leving.”

  “Choran.”

  “Kyser.”

  “Adeil.”

  “Ali.”

  “Richards.”

  She murmured into her headset, “Have the elders been briefed?”

  Myx said softly, “They have. They are nervous but eager.”

  She exhaled. “Right. Welcome to the valley.”

  Myx opened the hatch and held out his hand. Their little party stepped onto his palm. He lowered them to the sandy soil, and Corbyn led her party toward the elders.

  “Elders, I would like to present you with the progenitors of clan Leving.” Myxiorden bowed.

  “Choran. Kyser, Adeil, Ali, and Richards. They are your ancestors, Elders. Please, make them welcome.”

  Corbyn’s elder came forward with a twinkle in her eye. “Thank you, Pilot. Welcome, progenitor.”

  “Myxiorden. It is an honour to greet you, Elder.”

  “Please, call me Markiss.” She held out her hands to him, and he placed his hands in hers.

  The expression that crossed her face was the same one that Corbyn was sure that she had been wearing when she touched him. It was wonder combined with the feel of being with someone familiar.

  To one side, Corbyn could see that the other members of the Nine were engaged in similar greetings. On the other side, unclaimed elders were looking for their ancestor. Eventually, everyone found their relative.

  Corbyn looked around and found Elder Lameera. She headed over to her and waited for her to pause her conversation with Diferno. To Corbyn’s amazement, Lameera was also sporting the heterochromia that Kiida had shared with them earlier.

  The laughter and amusement finally ceased, and Corbyn asked, “Elder, may I be relieved to assist Xaia?”

  “Oh, of course, of course. Don’t forget to eat.”

  “Yes, Elder. I will grab some rations on the way.”

  “Good. You and yours have done well. Now help Xaia out. She is struggling with things.”

  “What things?”

  “Ask her.” Lameera nodded the dismissal and that was that.

  Corbyn headed into the true entrance, and the stone steps under her feet gave way to a smooth floor that extended into the distance.

  Kilometres of pathways on the first level were dwarfed by the mazes within the depths. The light came in via silver-lined tunnels, as did the fresh air. The underground didn’t oppress them, but any excuse to get outside was welcome to Corbyn.

  She kept to the upper level and worked her way over to the test labs. Once she was there, there was no shortage of women who pointed her in Xaia’s direction.

  The rocket launcher that Xaia was holding was the subject of her screaming. “Damnit! I just need one test volunteer. You wanted something for the ground troops to fire. Test it, so I can compare the result.”

  Corbyn laughed. “Xaia, you are making friends again?”

  Xaia looked at her with hope. “Would you be willing to fire an untested armament?”

  Corbyn beckoned for Xaia to hand it over. “Would you be willing to let an ancient robot burrow into your brain?”

  Xaia grinned and handed her the weapon. After a few basic instructions, Corbyn knelt and aimed the tube. She activated the spike and counted to three. The weapon kicked back hard, but she held it straight. The rocket flew across the test range in the distance, and the explosion was satisfying.

  She grabbed the next round and loaded it in. When
the unit was ready to fire, she nodded. “It would be better with a drop down the barrel, but with that spike in place, a side load is a better idea.”

  Xaia looked at her. “Not too much kick back?”

  “Oh, hell yes. But we are firing into low orbit, not across the valley floor. We need all the power we can muster.”

  Xaia nodded, “So, they need to be stationary or supported.”

  “Supports would do. Some legs or a tripod. It would make it trickier to aim, but the gunner wouldn’t end up on their ass.”

  Xaia grunted. “It is too late to create a firing platform that can move easily.”

  Corbyn looked at her. “Can you refurbish a cycle’s cargo cart?”

  Corbyn squeaked as Xaia lunged forward and kissed her forehead. “Genius.”

  Xaia grabbed her by the arm and hauled her away. “We will have to get sights that can attach to the unit and the gunner.”

  Corbyn touched her headset. “I wonder where we can find a camera and display unit to copy quickly.”

  They cackled and ran for the design lab. Time was getting short.

  * * * *

  Hima was talking with her elder and Lenfenik when she heard him ask, “Where are the other pilots going?”

  She blushed and muttered, “Probably getting ready to defend the valley. Please, excuse me, Elder, Progenitor.” She inclined her head and sprinted for the doorway.

  She grabbed ration packs and water containers on the way to the research and development department. She found Xaia and Corbyn working away on a new targeting lens, and she forced the ration packs into their hands. Both women ate mechanically. The water was put next to them. They would be thirsty in minutes after those rations.

  A deep voice sounded from behind her. “Dierdre, would have done the same, but she would have cursed more.”

  Xaia looked up and shrieked in shock.

  Corbyn had her ration bag in her teeth, and she looked around for the problem. “Whath ith up?”

  Hima looked to her relative and then back to the pilots. “She hasn’t seen a member of the Nine before.”

  Corbyn nodded and pulled the pack from her mouth. “Oh. Right. Xaia, this is Lenfenik, Hima’s eight-times great grandfather. Yours is with your elder.”

  Xaia blinked. “He’s taller than I imagined.”

  Hima snorted. “Yes. That is true.”

  She seemed to calm down and then remembered her manners. She walked around the table and went to shake his hand.

  Hima watched, and when she saw the reaction of recognition, she nodded. “I knew it.”

  Everybody was looking at her, and she wanted to explain that it meant the genes of all thirty had been mixed up with the general population, but instead, she said, “I knew that Xaia would get over it.”

  Corbyn gave her a look that indicated she knew there was obfuscation afoot, but instead of calling her on it, Corbyn went back to eating.

  Chapter Eight

  Lido groaned in relief when Dif walked toward her, and she heard those blessed words, “You are relieved of duty. Get some food and some rest.”

  Lido walked Cio to the nearest entrance and had him let her out. She groaned and headed for the restroom immediately inside the door. Once she had attended to nature, she was weak with relief. Time for a proper meal. Whichever sadist had sent her a thermos of tea and salty sandwiches deserved to be staked out on a hive for an hour.

  Since no one was looking for her, she headed down to the gardens.

  Deep under the civilisation of Bot City, she walked the paths between the planting beds, touching the leaves and smelling the soil. She had an innate need to get in touch with the dirt on a regular basis.

  “Sythoran used to walk with me in the gardens, and she had that expression when she touched the leaves.”

  A man moved out of the shadows, and Lido froze. “Who are you?”

  “Ciotan, husband of Sythoran Padu, and progenitor of your clan. More or less. You are the pilot Lido if I am not mistaken.”

  “You are correct. You are one of those rescued?”

  “I am.” His brilliant green eyes had the same colour as the tomato plants on his left. “This place is a maze. Would you show me around the plants?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “They are not usually fascinating for most folk.”

  “I am not most folk. All of those people outside asking me questions... I found my way here as if led.”

  Lido walked up to him and offered her hand. “Lido Padu, pilot of Cio, pleased to meet you. Allow me to show you around.”

  She smiled at the feeling of greeting someone she knew. It seemed right if he was truly a relative, though the idea of having alien blood in her veins was a little odd.

  Lido took Ciotan on a tour of this tiny pocket of the gardens, explaining their water-treatment system and the use of dead roasted leaves for mulch.

  “Did you try hydroponics?”

  “We did, but the soil was found to impart more flavour than simply growing the plant in water. The light had to be set to certain levels, and the wind needed to be channelled through for stem strength, but we did a lot with trial and error until it was enough to keep us all fed.”

  “No meat?”

  “Occasionally the hunters bring something in, but we work with the fishery. They provide the animal protein in the water that we run through the plant filtration system, and then, the water they used circulates back into our system for the added nutrients.”

  He was smiling and there was pride in his expression.

  “You look very happy, Ciotan.”

  “I am. She dreamed of this kind of system. I could never imagine it on this scale. We used a water-garden system on certain starships. Keeping the humidity from overwhelming the system is always a tricky part of managing water.”

  “We have had the time to get it right. The key is to keep the water moving.”

  He smiled.

  “How did you and my ancestor meet?”

  “We arrived here to introduce our species to yours, and we offered our expertise to the new colony. I was interested in hydro systems, so they paired me with Sythoran. We consulted well together, but I knew that there was something more behind it. Having never encountered your people before, it was surprising that a casual contact of the hands set us both on our paths. A few of the others had already found mates, but the locals were not happy with the unions, so we kept it quiet. Our exposure to the different engineers, physicians, and consultants grew when the Tokkel attacked. We helped design the systems that you still maintain, but as the humans began to win, there was a pro-human push that wanted all aliens off Hera.”

  He sighed and touched one of the plants with delicate care. “Our ship had been cannibalized to provide the necessary defenses, so we were stuck. A compromise was made, and we agreed to go into stasis until such a time as the humans felt comfortable contacting the Nine. Our people might stumble across Hera, but they would never know we were here.”

  Lido nodded. “A sacrifice play.”

  “Indeed. We didn’t realize quite how much. We went to the stasis facility and our wives kissed us good night. They were under round-the-clock watch. The humans weren’t fond of the collaborators, even if they had created the tech that had won the war.”

  “And the women were pregnant.”

  “Not all of them, but from what the Otta elder said, they are masters of biomechanical engineering. I would not have put it past our ladies to take samples of whatever they needed before we were completely frozen.”

  Lido paused. “So, you think they stabbed your...”

  “It is likely.”

  “How could you know with just a touch?”

  “The same way the touch told me that you were one of my blood. It is a peculiarity of the Nine.”

  “So, a chemical recognition?”

  “You are very intelligent.”

  She snorted. “Don’t sound so surprised. I work w
ith plants because I like to watch them grow, not to hang around with something that I can out-think.”

  Ciotan laughed. “Fair enough. I believe I was supposed to go to some kind of reception.”

  She smirked. “I will take you. I do wonder one thing though.”

  “What is that?”

  “How can history get so garbled? I have heard bits and pieces, but none of it was the whole story. It is frustrating.”

  “You will get used to it. History is always written by the winners, and some folk are completely written out of it, while others are twisted into something sinister.”

  “And engineers become pilots.”

  “The pilots were real. They were the brothers, fathers, cousins, and such of our wives.”

  She led the way through the gardens. “Why do you use wife sometimes and mate other times?”

  “The Nine use a combining of blood to cement the union. Just a cut on each arm that heals and then marks both parties as a mated pair. The blood sets a chemical reaction in motion in the male that allows him to impregnate his mate.”

  “So, did you do that with Sytheron?”

  “No. She did not wish to be pregnant while the war was on, and then, it was too late.”

  It made a horrible amount of sense, but there was something missing. They entered the common halls, and several women squeaked when they saw him.

  “There is another part to the mating, isn’t there?”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Life binding. We share a life span, and those chemical signatures extend one life and shorten another. The humans were horrified that we would do that for them. Our species has a few citizens who have made it into their fourth century.”

  She paused. “That is... well, that does explain why we live so long. I mean, so much longer than standard humans.”

  “Interesting. Would you ever consider having a mate of your own?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “No. I am not attracted to women.”

  When she saw the look on his face, she laughed for three levels on the way to the elder conference centre.