Finally he stood in front of the conference-lounge door. It didn’t open automatically the way that most other doors around the ship did. He wondered why, and then saw a small steady red light on a wall panel near the door. He correctly intuited that it meant the door was locked.

“Morgan,” he called once more.

“Yes, Moke.”

“Why is the door locked?”

“Sealing a conference lounge door from the outside is standard procedure for any conference involving two or more commanding officers. It’s a safety measure.”

“Oh. Okay. Can you open it?”

“For you? Of course.”

The light switched from red to green and the door slid open as Moke confidently walked in.

He’d never seen Calhoun looking quite so surprised. He was obviously in the middle of saying something, his index finger extended, making a point. Shelby was there along with the gleaming man and Mueller, and Zak Kebron. Si Cwan was there as well, and Burgoyne, and so was a rather intimidating-looking man who reminded Moke of Soleta. But he sensed the man was much older than Soleta, and much graver of mien.

“Nice security lock you’ve got there, Captain,” said Shelby.

“Moke,” said Calhoun, shaking off his initial confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you, Mac. It doesn’t matter if everyone else is here ...”

“But it does matter, Moke,” Calhoun said firmly. He came from around the table with the clear intention of escorting the boy out. “We’re in the middle of discussing some important things, and—”

“Yes, I know. The dark, one-eyed bearded man told me so. It’s been getting easier and easier for me to hear him lately.”

There were bewildered looks from around the table. “We’re taking time for a young boy’s imaginary friend?” asked the gleaming man.

“Quiet, Mr. Gleau,” said Shelby. So that was his name. Gleau. Made sense to Moke, since he kind of glowed.

“A one-eyed, bearded man,” said the man who somewhat reminded Moke of Soleta. “Captain Calhoun ... if I am not mistaken, that description roughly matches that of the Earth Norse all-father god, Woden, father of the thunder deity Thor. Under ordinary circumstances, that would be considered—at most—a coincidence. However, when one takes into account the nature of the entities with which we’ve been dealing ...”

“Yes ... yes, I see where you’re going with that, Ambassador Spock.” Calhoun was still approaching Moke, but his body language had changed. He no longer looked as if he was about to rush Moke out the door. “This one-eyed man ... tell me more about him. Where did you see him?”

“What do you mean, ‘did’?”

“I mean ...” Calhoun stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Wait ... are you saying he’s ... he’s here? Now? You’re seeing him now?”

“Yes. Right over there,” said Moke, pointing to a spot at the far end of the room. “He’s next to McHenry.”

II.

The meeting had only just begun when Calhoun looked up in surprise at Moke’s arrival. The fact that Soleta was not present merely fueled Calhoun’s determination to attend to the Beings once and for all, and he was pleased to see that Shelby shared his attitude. It was so rare that they were one hundred percent in accord with one another.

Shelby had offered to bring her science officer, Gleau, along. Calhoun had readily agreed, since Soleta was down on Danter and could hardly be considered in useful condition anyway. However, when Mueller, Shelby, and Gleau entered, he noticed that Mueller seemed to be giving Gleau a wide berth, even looking at him with distaste. He had no idea what the problem was between them, and decided it wasn’t really his concern. Whatever it was, no doubt Shelby had a handle on it.

They had gone around the room quickly, each individual describing their encounters and sharing their knowledge in short, concise sentences. Thus in short order they were current with each other’s knowledge.

But before they could take the discussion beyond that, Moke had entered, to Calhoun’s astonishment. He didn’t know what it was the boy wanted and, at that point, didn’t much care. But he was brought up short when Moke told them of what he’d been seeing.

“McHenry?”Several voices chorused at once.

Burgoyne’s was the loudest. S/he was staring fixedly at the place where Moke had been pointing. “Mark?” s/he said, and s/he squinted and stared, then looked away and then back again, and then s/he gasped, “Oh .. my God ... Mark ... ?”

“Where?” demanded Calhoun.

“Right there!” S/he pointed with quivering finger. “He’s right there! I thought I saw him earlier, but I just ... I thought I was imagining it, thought I was crazy! I figured there was no way. He’s still lying in sickbay, he’s ... it isn’t possible, is it ... ?”

“When dealing with the unknown,” said the one who’d been called Spock, “it is generally wise to approach situations from the point of view of what is possible, rather than what is not.”

“Moke.” Calhoun was down on one knee, holding the boy by the shoulders. “Can you communicate with him? The bearded man. Can you ask him if his name is Woden?”

“He can hear you, Mac. He’s standing right there.”

“Oh. Of course.” Calhoun tried to repress a smile and didn’t entirely succeed. “All right ... what did he say?”

“He said yes. Among others.”

“Can he restore McHenry to life?” asked Burgoyne with urgency.

Moke listened carefully, then said, “He said it depends upon what happens. With the others.”

“I don’t understand,” said Shelby. “Why is it that you can hear and see him, Moke?”

Moke blinked in surprise. “I dunno. I just ... well, I just could. I never thought to ask him.”

Calhoun marveled at that, although he reasoned that perhaps he shouldn’t. Children, after all, were the most accepting of creatures, their reality an ever-changing and fluid environment.

Then he saw Moke pale, and his eyes widen. “Moke?” said Calhoun. “Moke ... what is ... ?”

“He ...” Moke’s lips suddenly looked bone dry. “He ... he said ...”

Once again Calhoun took him gently by the shoulders, except this time he could practically feel the boy trembling. “Moke ... what did he s—?”

“He said he’s my father.”

The words thudded in the air like mallets. Moke began to shake more violently, and it was all Calhoun could do to steady him. He looked in the direction that Moke was staring, as if he could see the elder god himself.

It was insane. It was a completely insane notion.

And then he thought of how vague Moke’s mother had been about the boy’s patrimony. And of the incredible stormlike powers that the boy had possessed ... powers that were certainly consistent with someone who had a filial connection to an alleged thunder god.

And just like that, it suddenly became a much less insane notion.

When Mackenzie Calhoun had come to Moke’s world, Moke had latched on to him, turning him into a surrogate father even though Calhoun had made abundantly clear to the lad that he was not at all responsible for bringing the boy into the world. That had deterred Moke’s devotion only slightly, and when his mother had passed away, she had given the boy over into Calhoun’s keeping. He’d done the best he could with him, even though occasionally Calhoun felt utterly at sea.

Yet now, out of the blue, the mystery of Moke’s parentage was solved, except all it did was evoke even more mysteries.

Moke looked up at him, wide-eyed, stunned, and obviously not a little scared. “Is ... can that ... is ... Mac, is he ... ?”

For one of the few times in his life, Calhoun had absolutely no idea what to say. “It’s ... I suppose it’s possible, Moke. I don’t know. But this I do know,” and now he stood and, feeling a bit foolish, addressed the empty air. “These Beings ... these fellow creatures of yours ... it’s clear that they want to spread their dominion over much more than Danter. The problem is, I’m not exactly sure whose side you’re supposed to be on. I swear to God, though ... if you’re ruthlessly manipulating the hopes and dreams of this boy as part of some twisted game ...”