“Against stupidity the very Gods themselves contend in vain.”

–Friedrich Schiller, Die Jungfrau von Orleans

“Rixie! What a surprise! Walk with me.”

Rixie Tam had seen Aertimus coming around the corner with a full head of steam, and hoped that he would be too busy to note her presence; she’d been playing the part of the beleaguered shuttle pilot, trying to speed up repairs while asking exactly what was going on that made everyone so on edge – and she’d gotten some very good information, as she had decades of experience asking exactly the right question to get the answer she needed.

“Navarchos Bass. If you’re surprised I’ll eat Alex.”

“Yes, well, you can’t be surprised to see me, Magister-Imperator.”

“Are you kidding? I had no idea you were here until this morning. Kir didn’t seem too happy about it.”

Aertimus nodded, gesturing down a corridor. “No, he isn’t. This has been a disaster, but that isn’t his fault. That’s on Solis. He’s been erratic at best. He just flat-out ordered me to lie to the Floor Leader.”

Rixie stopped dead, letting Aerti walk a few paces ahead. “Navarchos Bass…you shouldn’t be telling me anything about ongoing operations. You know that. I mean, I’ll listen to you tell me, but….”

Aerti turned, a rueful smile on his face. “No, that’s true, Rixie. I can’t tell an inactive officer about them. However, given that we’re at black, and probably going to double-black shortly….”

Rixie’s jaw dropped as realization dawned. “You wouldn’t.”

“Magister-Imperator Tam, I am officially reinstating you to active duty, effective immediately, for the duration of the present crisis. Welcome aboard.”

“You…but I….”

“Article forty-two, Rixie.”

“Gorram. Navarchos Bass, sir…well played.”

Aertimus Bass broke out in a wide grin. “Now, unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask you to cease transmission with a certain group of troublemakers that I’m trying very hard to pretend doesn’t exist.”

“Of course, sir,” Rixie said. “Headquarters, Rixie; I’ve been recalled to active duty by Navarchos Bass.”

“What?! That sonofabitch,” Darren’s voice called into her earpiece. “How the fuck does he get off doing that?”

“Pretty easily, it’s an emergency situation and I’m a retired flag officer; as commander of the base….”

“Not my point,” Darren muttered.

“I know. I need to break off transmission. I’ll try to forget you exist, folks.”

“Roger, Trixie. God damn it….”

Rixie removed her earbud, then appeared thoughtful. “I don’t suppose I should mention whether there’s anyone else tagging along with me, should I?”

“Probably not,” Aertimus said. If he didn’t know someone was tagging along, he couldn’t know that said non-existent person was relaying information to Rixie’s compatriots. “Come on. I’ll try to fill you in on the way.”

“The way to where?”

“To visit Maj. Hala Nejem.”

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Sorcha asked, eyes locked on Alesia.

“No,” she said. “But Moze was pretty clear. Seems to me he’s talking about one of the floor grates. If you go poking your head into them, people will notice, but I’ve got a shot.”

“And what if you get caught?”

“Well, I’m so scared that my mistress Sorcha and I got separated, and she was on a ship called the Galatea and we weren’t even s’posed to come here….”

“Right. Okay. Stay in contact, check in every five minutes, if you get in any danger call me and I will kill the bastard dead where he stands.”

“Sounds good, Sorsh,” Alesia said.

With that, Sorcha placed Alesia in her hand, and bent down as if to adjust her shoe. Alesia leapt out, and ran pell-mell toward the first of the three gates she had identified.

* * *

“You tell Morn that next time I see him, the phytoplankton is on me. Absolutely! All right, gotta go,” Ammer said, closing the call with Rep. Zimm’s majordomo.

“Congratulating Zimm’s office?”

Ammer looked up and smiled. “Yes, Senator. They did amazing work. Of course, it’s all thanks to your folks. They gave us the data in the first place.”

“True, dear, but you used it exceptionally well,” Pryvani said. “Loona, I said I would help make lunch!”

“Help? Pryvani, she’s ordering takeout. You’d think being Naskia’s friend would help her learn how to cook, but I swear she’s regressed. Of course, she’s been busy.”

“You’ve been busy,” Pryvani said to the human woman. “Two novels in the last six months? Nobody can keep that pace up.”

Nonah padded across the table. Her hair had long ago faded to platinum, but her blue eyes twinkled as gaily as they ever had, and only her hair betrayed that she was physically on the far side of forty. “Pryvani, I’m a writer. I can’t not keep that pace up.”

“It’s true,” Ulysses said, as he and his brother helped their dad set up the humans’ table for lunch. “Hector doesn’t get it, but it’s like…a story idea works its way into your head and you have to get it out. Or it takes over your every waking moment.”

“It’s just an excuse,” Ulee’s older brother joked. “He never could hack science.”

“Hey, just because you’re working on cross-comparing the human and Titan genomes….”

“Boys,” Nonah said, that one sharp word immediately softening. “You’re both wonderful. And only occasionally obnoxious. Focus on helping your father.”

“Yes mom.”

“Hector is trying to get into the genetics department at Tannahuser Gate,” Nonah said. “Niall’s doing his best. A few of his colleagues are trying to allow him to come into the doctoral program as an exchange student, but….”

“Well, if they won’t take him, we’d love to have him come to Avalon,” Ammer said, helping to pass out plates. “And I’m pretty sure Alesia could find him an apartment.”

“No offense to you Ammer, Avalon is great,” Dhanyle said, passing glasses around, “but we don’t want to have our children leave the planet just to find work.”

“Damn right. Hopefully that’ll change, and soon,” Ammer said. “So when does Ulysses’ first novel come out?”

“Two months,” said Nonah, excitedly. “It’s brilliant. Better than anything I’ve written.”

“That’s ridiculous, mom,” Ulysses called. “It’s barely-passable genre fiction. If I keep working, there’s a chance that maybe, maybe, I could be half the writer she is someday.”

“Well, that would make you really, really good,” Innanae volunteered, checking over messages, which had been pouring in over the last two hours. “Senator Tarsuss, how quickly do we want this to move through? Do we have a few weeks? A few days?

“Mmm. No, given what we know, speed is important. Perhaps a few hours,” Pryvani said.

“So this needs to move tonight,” Ammer said.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he said, looking at Inna. “So we’re going to have to find a way to gracefully avoid all but first contact in this bill.”

“Right,” Inna said, jotting notes. “Basically give everyone an out and political cover, kick the question a ways down the road.”

“So how do we do that?” Loona said, carrying in four take-out containers.

“Oh, there are ways,” Pryvani said. “The key is how we do it and maintain control after this moment has passed.”

Loona served the assembled group, and they tucked in; had any of them been from Earth they would have thought the meal resembled pasta with a white sauce, and perhaps bacon or ham mixed in. The noodles required the humans to eat them with a knife and fork, but they didn’t particularly mind, for it was well worth the effort. Loona had long ago figured out the best take-out places in Tuaut. She was quite aware that her prodigious talents did not extend to cooking.

“Anyhow,” Pryvani said, as discussions of business momentarily stopped. “Nonah, Dan, I just wanted to tell you what an amazing job Alesia’s been doing.”

“Can you tell her to call us once in a while?” Nonah asked with a slight giggle.

“She’s never been good about it,” Dhan sighed.

“I can demand it; I pay her salary,” Pryvani said with a smile. “It wouldn’t shock me, though, if someday she pays mine.”

* * *

“So we’ve got the rest of the astronauts in custody…Solis wants communications closed down…you know where this is heading, Navarchos.”

“I graduated fourth in my class from the Academy, Magister-Imperator. I can guess what the next order I’m going to get will be.”

“You have to let the legislature know.”

“Of course I do,” Aertimus said. “But you know how much power an Imperii has. Odds are very high that if I just call up the Floor Leader my comms will go offline before the call’s connected. I have Kir looking at back-channel options; may have you look into it as well.”

“Smart,” Rixie said. “So…what happens next?”

Aertimus sighed. “Play for time. Hope that the legislature acts before that order comes down. I’m guessing they’ve found out, at least?”

“Someone got them images of the Earth ship in orbit,” Rixie said with a slight smirk.

“Have to thank someone someday. Obviously, I would take disruptor fire to the face before I do what I think I’m going to be ordered to do. But Solis has always been sharp. And I don’t know who he’. All right,” he said, stopping by the doorway to the infirmary where Hala Nejem was being detained. “I wanted to talk to her myself, but I need to meet Lauryna. Can you try to at least put her at ease? Let her know that there are Titans out here trying to help? Break the news about her ship without breaking her?”

“If I can’t, I know someone who can,” Rixie said with a smile.

“Thanks. Dr. Geen should be in there already; I’ll meet with you after welcoming Captain Xú to Titan, and we’ll try to figure out what the hell we do next. Gentlemen, this is Imperator Tam,” said Aertimus, pressing a keycard into Rixie’s hand. “She’s going to talk to the prisoner.”

“Yes, sir,” said one of the guards standing outside the infirmary door. Bass continued on down the corridor; he was passed by a young Decanus in a flight suit, but paid her no mind. He wasn’t sure why a pilot would be there, but it wasn’t like she could get past the guards without the right clearance.

The young woman presented a keycard precisely nine minutes after Imperator Tam walked into the room; the guard barely looked at the monitor screen as he swiped it. He still wasn’t sure why he was on guard for a human. Oh, he knew she was an astronaut, or something, but still, she was a pet. If they lost this one, another one was on sale up at Jeska’s shop. He’d been on duty 51 hours already; he was just ready for a drink and some rack time.

“All right, Ms. Ix,” he said to the tall, lanky pilot, not even looking at her face. “Go ahead in.”

* * *

Alesia was on the third grate, and was beginning to think that either Moze had been wrong, or the humans had moved on. Not that she could blame them if they had; they were trying to find their crewmate, she felt sure. They wouldn’t stand still long. She would almost certainly not find them in the next hidey-hole, and she was prepared not to.

So her heart skipped a beat as she peered down into the grating, and saw two men dozing lightly, their heads resting on their thermsuits.

“Found ‘em, Sorsh,” she said, and she carefully lowered herself, landing in ankle-deep water that chilled her bare feet.

Tatenda Marechera sat bolt upright, mouth agape. He felt quite sure Viktor had, too. He stared at the source of the sound that had woken him, and had to rub his eyes to verify that he was not dreaming.

It was a young woman, mid-twenties, maybe, wearing a plain green dress, blond hair hanging simple and straight.

It was a bit like running into a Starbucks on the moon. Well, before 2093, anyhow. Tatenda had been prepared to be captured by a giant. This…this made no sense.

“Hello,” the girl said, quietly, in accented English. “My name is Alesia Nonahsdottir. I expect you are from the spaceship from Earth?”

“Y…yes,” Tatenda said, nudging Viktor, who also rose. “Commander Tatenda Marechera, executive officer, TSS Lem. This is Dr. Viktor Frieden.”

Alesia smiled, and shook their hands, human-style. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she said.

“Are…do…there are humans here? On the base?”

“A few,” Alesia said.

“Do you…are you scavenging? Did you….”

“Oh! No, I’m not from Earth. I was born on Archavia. But that’s going to lead you to ask, ‘What’s Archavia?’ and this probably isn’t the best time for it. We need to get you guys to safety. Are there any others of you?”

“Ted Martínez…we haven’t heard from him. And Hala Nejem.”

“We understand Dr. Nejem is being detained. That leaves just Mr. Martínez unaccounted for. Okay, Sorcha, you getting this? Third grate. Hurry.”

“Who are you talking to?” Viktor asked.

Alesia did not immediately answer. The water in the hideout began to shudder, softly, as tremors approached.

“One of the giants!” called Viktor, as a shadow was thrown over them. “We’re found, commander!”

“It’s all right,” Alesia said. “She’s on our side.”

The grate filled up with the serious, pale face of Sorcha Freeman. She nodded a hello. “Quickly now.”

“You want us…to go…with her?”

“Of course,” said Alesia. “You can trust her. She’s human, like us.”

* * *

“Your injuries appear to be nearly healed, Major.”

“Truly exciting news,” Hala said, disconsolately. She was still trying to get used to humanoid giants; now a truly alien giant was poking and prodding her. He seemed polite enough, even friendly. But it did nothing to improve her mood.

“Ah. You are utilizing sarcasm. My favorite patient is quite an expert in sarcasm. As is my wife, come to think of it. There was a time I couldn’t recognize it, you know. But I was much younger then, barely out of the Great Ocean.”

“How is the patient?” asked an enormous, dark-haired woman. Hala knew she and the alien – okay, she and the aliener – were trying to be quiet, but frankly, that was nigh-impossible.

“Physically, she is fine,” Dr. Geen said. “Emotionally…well, she is as I would expect. I recommend removing her from isolation as soon as possible.”

“Agreed,” the titaness said, walking over to the table. “Hello, Major,” she added. “I’m Rixie. I doubt you’re in much of a mood to talk to me.”

Hala smiled ruefully. “No, but that hasn’t stopped anyone yet.”

Rixie smiled back. “I’m sure it hasn’t.” While the giantess was perhaps the largest woman she had yet seen, Hala felt almost at ease. There was a way that she spoke and acted that was quiet, measured, as if she was used to going out of her way not to frighten tiny creatures like herself. Even the slight metallic ring in her voice was not enough to dent that feeling; Hala had to fight to remain on her guard.

“So, are you here to try to explain why it’s okay that you’re holding me? Why it’s okay you won’t let me go home? Why it’s okay for you not to even let me tell my crewmates that I’m alive?”

“No,” Rixie said, grabbing a stool and sitting down by the tiny woman. “I’m not. I would have to lie in order to say that. It isn’t okay. One of the reasons I’m here is to try to change that.”

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

“I’d be worried about you if you trusted me,” Rixie said. “That will come, I hope, but trust is earned, and we’ve been doing a lousy job of it.”

Hala sighed. “I’d just like to be able to reassure everyone I’m okay.”

“Well…unfortunately, you’re going to be able to soon.”

Hala looked up, and suddenly gasped in realization. She stared at Rixie in anger. “You captured the Lem.”

“Yes. We did. A ship should be landing with its crew any moment.”

Hala paced away, wiping tears from her eyes. She knew a rescue mission was ridiculous, but so long as the Lem had been out there, she had a chance at going home. But now…now that was over. And not just for her.

“Well, I’m sure you’re all very happy,” she spat, not looking at Rixie. “Now you can have a whole habitat of humans. I’m sure it will be a hit at the Giant City Zoo.”

A door opened in the back of the room, but Rixie paid it no mind.

Rixie smiled sadly. “I am doing everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. Believe me, Maj. Nejem, I have rather strong feelings about holding humans captive.”

“I’m sure.”

“I don’t ask you to trust me,” Rixie said. “I would, however, ask if you’d talk to a friend of mine. Just for a bit.”

“Who? The amphibian doctor? He’s not awful. But no.”

“No, not Dr. Geen, although he is very nice,” said Rixie, reaching into her pocket. “The person I want you to talk to….”

She did not complete the sentence, as she was too surprised that she’d been tackled violently from behind, the force causing her hand to slam down on the table, sending Alex skidding across it, out of control.

* * *

“Navarchos Bass, may I present Shang Xiao Xú Mùlán, of the Terran Space Ship Stanisław Lem.”

Aertimus returned Lauryna’s salute, and turned immediately to their human captive. “Thank you, Captain Gwenn. Shang Xiao Xú, welcome to Titan Station.”

Xú swallowed, and returned the admiral’s salute. She had barely begun to wrap her mind around the shuttlebay of the Gyfjon. Now the Gyfjon sat in Hangar One of Titan Station, one of the largest indoor landing pads in the Empire. It was almost eight miles across, and almost two miles high. By comparison, Navarchos Bass appeared almost normal.

There were people in the distance driving monstrous vehicles around, bringing supplies to the ship. And the ship – God, the ship. Xú couldn’t even find an adequate comparison. A mountain? An island? It was simply enormous, beyond her comprehension.

She shook it off. She had to. Her crew could gape in wonder, gasp in awe. She had no such luxury. “Thank you, Navarchos Bass. I wish to register a formal objection to our detention,” she said, with a nod.

Aerti smiled, just a bit, at the audacity of the Lem’s captain. “I understand and sympathize, Shang Xiao,” Navarchos Bass said. He had been joined by a small detachment – not as large as the honor guard who had accompanied Gwenn, but then, flag officers are an honor guard unto themselves.

His executive officer, who seemed a bit distracted, did not immediately endear himself to Xú, but she paid him little attention. She was far more interested in the civilian who accompanied them, standing to the left of the Navarchos. She was enormous, of course, but by the standards of the giants who surrounded her, she was almost petite, carrying herself with a military bearing – she wore civilian clothes now, but she had clearly been a grunt at some point, or maybe a military brat.

That was not what made Xú notice her, however. No, what drew her attention – aside from the woman being just shy of forty meters tall – was a sense of familiarity. Despite the odd angle and bizarre proportions, the Shang Xiao felt that she had seen the woman’s face before, and very recently.

“Your objection is noted, and we’ll discuss that further soon enough. But until we are able to resolve it, I want you to be as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, and to that end, I’d like to introduce your liaison for the duration of your stay, who will help to answer questions and hopefully make things slightly more bearable. Shang Xiao, this is….”

“Eyrn Fitzgerald,” Xú gasped.

The petite giant’s eyebrows shot up, and she replied in perfect English, “How do you know my name?”

“After the accident,” Xú said, “governments on Earth began looking for possible encounters with extraterrestrials, trying to see if we had encountered you before. The Americans found your records, I looked over them carefully.”

“Army always did keep good records. Did they have any old photos in there?”

“They did. From childhood to a few months before disappearance.”

“This may seem like a strange request, but I do hope they kept the one of me and my parents. Adoptive parents – you didn’t miss any pictures of extra Titans – Zeb and Marcy Fitzgerald. And there also should be a few in there with a Master Sergeant Avery. If they did keep them, I’d like copies.”

“They…they did. Ā! It is you, isn’t it?”

Eyrn smiled, gently. “It is,” she said, stepping a few dozen meters forward and dropping carefully to the ground, much as Lauryna had on the Gyfjon.

Xú studied the giantess. “You know what we’re going through here. You’ve been held captive by aliens.”

“No,” Eyrn said, “I don’t. For one thing, I didn’t know I was an alien. I knew something was different – and not just that I was bigger than all of you – but I didn’t know what, exactly. I was about three when my Titan parents put me into cryosleep; humans woke me up. My birth parents….”

 

“I saw,” Xú said, sympathetically. It was odd; there was a slight difference in the way Titans and humans carried and comported themselves. Nothing blatantly obvious, just subtle differences. Eyrn felt human; despite her size, Xú felt like she reminded her of Ted Martínez. The way she talked, the rhythm of her cadence, it was eerily similar.

“I was brought up by you. Well, your people. Actually, by Americans – I don’t know how that works anymore.”

Mùlán chuckled. “Well, America and China signed a durable peace accord 20 years ago, and frankly, with the new powers the UN has, I’m not sure there is a difference between ‘my people’ and the Americans. Especially when compared with your people.”

“You’re Chinese?” Eyrn said, eyes brightening. “I always wanted to see China. Wasn’t really easy for me to book a flight, of course.

“Anyhow, as I was saying, humans raised me, loved me – my mom and dad treated me like I was their own, and that took some doing, given how big I am. Don’t get me wrong, I wish I’d been let off base some, but…well, they tried their best. I know they did. And if it wasn’t perfect, that was as much due to misunderstanding and fear as anything, and I’m sorry to tell you that those emotions aren’t any less common out here in the rest of the galaxy.”

“I hope they’re less common on Earth than they once were,” Xú said. “You know humans. We have a very imperfect history. But you also know that we keep trying to be better than we used to be. Can you try to explain that to them? I mean, your people?”

“I’ve been trying to since I got here. Over 21 Titan years, 140 of yours.”

“Eyrn?” Aerti said, quietly, “Is it possible for you to continue this conversation off the hangar floor? Gyfjon needs to return to orbit.”

“Of course,” she said, smiling up at the man. Xú raised an eybrow; there was a familiarity there beyond co-workers or crew. “Where should I take them?”

“I recommend Level B, Detention 2A,” Kir volunteered.

“Detention level? I don’t know, Centurum Oden.”

“For their own protection as much as anything,” Kir said.

Aertimus shrugged. “All right,” he said. “And….”

The rest of what he said was drowned out by alarm klaxons.

* * *

It took Hala nearly a second to process what she’d seen.

The woman who was questioning her had been tackled mid-sentence by a blur of a figure, the two collapsing against the table like demolished buildings. What stunned Hala, though, was the person that bounced out of the woman’s hand and skidded across the table, sliding and desperately trying to gain purchase as his recent possessor hit her assailant with an elbow.

Hala had stumbled as the table shook, but as her mind finished processing she began to sprint full-out toward the edge of the table, hoping that she could stop and intercept him before he went over.

She watched the pale, dark-haired man as he slowed, watched in horror as he began to slide over the edge. Thinking nothing of her still-sore arm, her still-painful ribs, Hala dove and reached out, grabbing his arm and slowing him just before he fell over the edge.

She winced in pain, but pulled as hard as she could; fortunately, they were on Titan, where even a marginally strong human could lift another human with one arm. The man got his second arm onto the table and pulled himself up.

“Thanks,” he panted. “That wouldn’t have been fun.”

“I can’t imagine,” Hala said. “Are you…you’re human?”

“Last time I checked,” he said. “Rix, watch out!”

Rixie, meanwhile, had gained the upper hand in the fight with her assailant. The brown-eyed, brown-haired woman was young and agile, and her reflexes were sharp. She wasn’t trained in fighting, though, at least no more than anyone who’d gone through basic self-defense at the academy. Though the young woman got a few shots in, Rixie had just about figured out an endgame.

And that’s when Dr. Geen made a terrible mistake.

The Dunnermac physician was not a fighter – he loathed violence – but he hadn’t reached the rank of commander in the Imperial Fleet without learning when to step in to the fray. He had loaded a small hypospray of ipnozan, enough to knock out an average-sized Titan. He snuck up behind the woman attacking the Imperator, hoping to inject her, and bring an end to the attack.

Unfortunately, just as he was about to reach her, the attacker saw him. She took a step back, grabbed him and threw him into Rixie.

Geen and Rixie staggered backward, bumping the table hard, sending it skidding and its human occupants to their knees.

The door opened. The two guards from before had heard the commotion, and came through, one after another. Both pulled out their stun-prods, arming them with a soft whine.

The attacker was ready; as the first guard swung his prod at her she ducked, popping up and grabbing it as it sailed overhead. She leg-whipped the guard, who had not expected this; he dropped, and she neatly plucked the stun-prod, just in time to knock aside an attack by the second guard. It took her but a second to land a blow on his cheek, causing him to writhe in agony as he collapsed, unconscious. She then grabbed the second stun-prod and pulled it into position.

Rixie had stumbled back to her feet just in time to see the woman armed and dangerous. She backed away slowly; Rixie had taken out armed assailants more times than she could count, and she saw no reason for that to change this time. She backed up, taking just a brief moment to check the table.

She saw, to her surprise, that the blow that sent the table skidding had brought it to rest against a wall, right above an air vent. And the woman she’d been questioning was entering it.

“Come on!” Hala had cried, leaping for freedom.

“Wait!” Alex said. “Rixie –”

“Let the giants fight. Come on, now’s our chance!”

Hala took off pell-mell through the vents. Alex looked back at Rixie, who was carefully battling the now-armed attacker. He couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t.

“I’ll be fine,” Rixie said, as if sensing his thoughts. “Stay with her!”

With that directive, Alex said a silent prayer and leapt after Maj. Nejem. Rixie thought she saw an opening; she dove to the left of the woman and popped back up, too close for the woman to easily counter with the prods. Had she been ten years younger, with just a split-second quicker reaction time, she would have disarmed the woman before she could have struck.

But Rixie had lost just enough speed that the woman was able to recover, jabbing a stun-prod right into Rixie’s trachea.

Her voicebox let out a whine as she drifted into unconsciousness.