She kept coming back to statements that Moke had made which indicated that he had seen McHenry wandering around the ship in disembodied form. She wanted to know more about that, wanted to comprehend exactly what it was that Moke was seeing and how it could be that he was seeing it.

But Moke was very aware that both McHenry and the one-eyed man didn’t want their presence or connection to Moke discussed. And when Soleta made casual mention of “the others,” referring to the other godlike beings, Moke suddenly began to suspect just why the need for secrecy was so important to them. Obviously McHenry and the one-eyed man were concerned that these other “beings” might be listening in somehow to whatever Moke was saying. That for some reason, the Beings didn’t know that McHenry had broken free of the confines of his body, and might not even know that the old bearded man was walking around unseen on the ship. But if Moke talked about it, and they were “listening” somehow, then the secret would be Out and there might be all kinds of trouble.

Moke was not anxious for trouble. It wasn’t all that long ago that the Beings had attacked Moke’s spacegoing home and Moke had been quite, quite certain that he was going to die that day. He wasn’t anxious for a repeat.

Besides, McHenry continued to make his wishes known. When Soleta faced Moke and said, quietly but firmly, “Moke ... are you able to see McHenry? Are you seeing him now?,” McHenry was standing just behind her and wildly gesticulating and shaking his head.

Moke, without even realizing he was doing it, shook his head in imitation of McHenry.

“Have you seen any other ... individuals?” she asked. When Moke again shook his head, she came as close to exasperation as she usually allowed herself. “Then why have you led me to believe that you did?”

“I guess I wanted to believe I saw them. Maybe I thought I could help if I did, or it would make people feel better,” he offered. He didn’t think it sounded very convincing, and Soleta didn’t especially look as if she accepted what he was saying. Nevertheless, she didn’t push it much beyond that.

His reluctance to be forthcoming, however, began to prey upon him. Finally he decided to speak with the one individual on whom he could always count: Calhoun. He figured that if he phrased his concerns in a vague enough manner, he might be able to get useful answers without giving away more than he should.

Standing in the middle of his quarters, Moke said, “Computer. Where is Captain Calhoun?”

There was a pause. That surprised him. Moke didn’t have all that much call to interact directly with the ship’s computer system, but even he knew that response was always instantaneous.

He was even more surprised when the computer replied, “Why are you asking?”

“I ...” He blinked, trying to parse out what was going on. “I just ... wanted to know.”

“Why?”

Moke put his hands on his hips, looking slightly defiant. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be able to ask me things like that! Just tell me where he is?”

“Captain Calhoun is in conference lounge two.”

“Okay,” said Moke, and he started to head for the door.

He stopped in his tracks, however, as the computer said, “If you’re planning to go see him there, I wouldn’t advise it.”

He knew that the computer shouldn’t be interested in advising him on anything. But that was less important to him than the reasons for the computer’s concern. “Why not?”

“This would not be a good time.”

“Why?”

“Cover your ears.”

Moke couldn’t remember when he’d felt more bewildered over something that should have just been a normal interaction with standard equipment. “Cover my ears?”

“Yes.”

“With what?”

It almost sounded like the computer was sighing in exasperation. “With your hands, boy.”

“Oh.” Feeling a bit sheepish, he obeyed.

A moment later, the room was flooded with several voices. Moke thought Mac’s was one of them, but it was hard to be sure, because they were all shouting at one another, and it was clear that everyone was very irritated. Even though his hands were already over his ears, he pressed them together tighter, wincing at the oral barrage as he did so.

Mercifully, it was shut off within seconds.

Moke was stunned. “What ... was that? Who was Mac fighting with?”

“It wasn’t a fight. It was a discussion,” the computer informed him. “A very loud discussion ... with some profanity mixed in. Adults do that on occasion.”

“So do kids! And the adults yell at us when we do! So who yells at the adults when they do it?”

“Other adults.”

“I don’t understand,” Moke said in exasperation.

“Don’t worry. When you grow up—”

“I’ll understand then?”

“No,” the computer informed him. “Adults don’t understand much more than children do. They just don’t understand it at a higher volume.”

II.

“I don’t understand, Mac!”

“I’m not lookingto you to understand, Eppy!”

“Well, you certainly got what you’re notlooking for!”

It was just the two of them in the conference lounge, which was why Shelby wasn’t holding back in the least. If other crew members were there, she would have forced herself to be far more reserved. As it was, she didn’t hesitate in giving vent to the frustration she was feeling at that moment.

She knew Calhoun was as irritated with her as she was with him. The infuriating aspect of the man, though, was that he wasn’t showing it. He simply sat there with his fingers steepled like some sort of damned Buddha statue. Although he was speaking as loudly as she was, it seemed motivated less by anger than simply by the desire to make himself heard over her.

She paced the room, running her fingers through her hair and fighting the impulse to start tearing it out at the roots ... and the further impulse to rip out Calhoun’s hair instead. “Mac, the Tridentis the ship that’s supposed to be here. Not the Excal.”

“I was given no orders that told me to stay away from this world.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Mac, what’re you? Nine years old? You have to have everything spelled out for you as to what you can and cannot do, and if it’s not specifically forbidden, then you figure it’s fair game?”

“Curious thing: On some worlds, I would be considered nine years old, when one allows for the amount of time it takes for the planet to complete its orbit around the—”

Shelby stopped pacing and leaned forward, resting her knuckles on the table, her face only a few inches from Calhoun’s. “Don’t get cute, Mac.”

“Cute works if you’re nine years old.”

Her voice tight, she said, “Turn this ship around and get out of here.”

Something in the air changed when she said that. She felt as if, for the first time since they’d entered the room and confronted one another over the Excalibur’sunexpected arrival, she had truly gotten Calhoun’s attention. And she wasn’t entirely certain that was a good thing.

“Don’t try to give me orders, Elizabeth,” said Calhoun icily, his eyes like flint. “The Excalis here because we need to be here.”

“Right, of course. You need to be here. Because you’re so convinced that the Tridentcan’t get the job done.”

“Not everything that goes on in the galaxy is about you, Elizabeth,” Calhoun said, repeating her first name formally as if to drive home to her how far away his mind-set was from the usual, affectionate “Eppy.” It was odd. She had loathed the nickname, then grown to tolerate it, and now actually was a bit upset that he wasn’t using it. “My showing up here isn’t intended as a commentary on my belief as to whether or not you can handle a difficult situation.”

“Well, that’s great to hear, Mackenzie,” she replied, choosing to be as formal as he was being. “Particularly when one considers that my ship saved your ass weeks ago. So whose ability to handle difficult situations is being brought into question?”