"Huhsawn will be brought forward," the box said. "Forgive the delay...but we desire to test this...translation computer without prejudice of knowledgeable assistance...It works well, yes?"
"Given a chance," she responded sheepishly, her foot still smarting.
The kone stared impassively. She could no longer smell its fear.
"I am Colonel Longo. As official representative...of the governments of Kon and of the Northern Hegemony . . . I have beenordered to establish contact with your race...and to define the preliminary conditions for relationships."
Relationships! That sounded encouraging.
"I am Lieutenant Sharl Buccari," she responded formally, "of the Tellurian Legion Space Force. It is our wish to cooperate fully with your government."
"Very well, Lieutenant Sharl." The kone turned away and talked to his subordinates; the sound was not processed by the translator. One subordinate loped over to Hudson's guards and returned with Hudson in tow. Her cooperation was being rewarded.
"Hello, Nash!" she shouted, as soon as he was in easy voice range.
"The fleet's back, Sharl—" Hudson responded, but the kone held up his hand and said something loud and curt. Hudson obviously understood.
The fleet was back! Thunderstruck, she barely heard Longo' s admonition.
"Again," Longo said. "I must ask that you speak one at a time and slowly...so the translator can operate effectively.. .for my benefit." He looked at both of them. "Allow me to continue...Master Huhsawn, Lieutenant Sharl has expressed her desire...to fully cooperate with my government. That is also your desire. Yes?"
Hudson shot back an answer in the alien tongue even as the box was asking the question. "...Excellent Colonel," the box partially translated Hudson's words. "What is it that you wish us to do?"
Colonel Longo stared angrily at Hudson. He turned to Buccari.
"This location is not conducive to establishing relationship . . . that my government wishes to have with your race. Cold and remote . . . I have been ordered to relocate all humans to Goldmine Station...where it will be much easier to communicate...Your race is hardy, but you will be more comfortable in a southern climate . . . and we have a domed facility that you may use...Huhsawn will attest to the comforts of our base."
Buccari tried to think. The fleet was back! The fleet was back! That thought pounded through her consciousness. She forced herself back to the moment. She had to deal with the present— dreams would come later. She listened as Longo repeated himself. She knew the kones would ask them to relocate. It made sense—from the kones' point of view. She looked at Hudson, trying to gauge his expression. There was much unsaid.
"When and how do we accomplish this relocation?" Buccari asked, trepidation growing strong within her breast. The fleet was back. Everything was different.
"There are nineteen humans, is that not correct?"
"Yes, nineteen, er—no! Twenty," answered Buccari. She looked at Hudson. "Lee had a baby girl." Longo tilted his head curiously.
"Now! This day. We act on this day," Longo continued. "I have the means to lift your group...I have but to bring down another module...Of course, that will mean another very loud arrival.. .All can avoid danger by moving into the landers already on the ground.. .They are soundproof."
The translator cranked out Longo' s words like assembly-line cookies, with no inflection or accent, no tone, no emotion, but the words were sinister—the spider talking to the fly. Buccari looked down at her ash-blackened feet and contemplated a simpler life. She desperately missed flying spaceships. Cheating death on a day-to-day basis as the pilot of a complex and powerful spacecraft was so much simpler than facing death even once with your feet planted firmly on the ground. Pain and death came slowly on the ground. She shook herself from her confused trance.
"Colonel Longo," she said, her voice firm. "We will comply with your recommendation."
Longo put his hands together and turned away, a look of satisfaction on his face. Buccari continued talking before he could give orders.
"However," she said, a corner of her brain frantically formulating a plan, "your landing was of such violence.. .that most of my people have fled. It will take several hours, if not days...to retrieve them. Is it possible to schedule another meeting at first light tomorrow morning? I will have everyone assembled at that time...or at least be able to give you a better estimate of exactly when we will be ready."
Longo deliberated Buccari's request.
Hudson spoke up quickly, in konish.
"Most excellent Colonel," the box translated his words into Legion. "Et Silmarn will be of assistance in providing assurance to our people. He is well known and trusted. Would you not allow him to come with us?"