“I mean, I guess it’s better than a stick in the eye,” Rixie said, “but it’s not exactly ‘welcome home.’”

“No, it’s not,” Pryvani said. “But the good news is that they want to talk to you, if they figure out how to do it without shattering a few families in the process.”

“Would it help if I said I don’t want to be a Guardian of the Empire? Because I don’t. I became an imperator because there was less protocol involved there than in the fleet, the last thing I want to do is become a primate.”

“They know you well enough that they know you are not the issue,” Pryvani said. “Indeed, I know with certainty that you have met the relatives I spoke to; I cannot tell you whether they were your parents or not, but I can tell you that their respect for you is not merely a platitude.”

Rixie snorted. “That doesn’t help, thanks to this job I’m pretty sure I’ve met every primate there is.”

“Most likely, darling. Now, I know it’s not as much as you were hoping for, but it’s not the end, it’s just the beginning. And you have me on your side.”

“I suppose,” Rixie said. “And at least they didn’t say I should jump out an airlock.”

“Absolutely not,” Pryvani said. “At least not one with a pressure gradient.”

“It’s something,” Rixie said. “All right, well…thanks. Even if this is all you can tell me…at least my family knows I exist, right?”

“Your family – the family I talked to – is not hiding from you out of malice. And when – and I hope it is when – they do tell you why you were hidden…I think you will understand, even if you don’t agree.”

Rixie sighed. “The funny thing is how funny it is that I was surprised about this. I killed people on orders from the Dodecahedron, you know. Those orders…well, they weren’t so much unlawful as outside of the law. I guess I should just be glad nobody was sent to murder me when I was eight.”

“I doubt they would have succeeded,” Pryvani said. “Even at eight, I doubt you were one to be trifled with.”

“Now that may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Rixie said. “All right, this is as much as I’m gonna get for now, so any actual work requests before I go try to herd shaars?”

“Just one quick question,” Pryvani said. “Do you know if Ms. Peten is on Avalon right now?”

* * *

The WV Akelois broke from warp and turned for Kua Sininentavas. Under ordinary circumstances, Liss would have used the advance Pryvani had given her to get a berth outside of Maeatuntaema, but they were, if not exactly undercover, then at the very least trying not to draw attention to themselves. And so she had reserved a cheap berth at Tukikohta Sininentavas, and booked a shuttle for the six people along on the trip.

“Akelois, affirm, on beam 72-Gimmel. Handing over auto-control…now,” her co-pilot said, as he turned the ship’s controls over to the station. Liss had long ago learned that when stations ask you for control, you give it – nothing draws suspicion like being a bit too nervous about letting go of the stick. Not that her co-pilot would have gone against regs. Well…he would, but only with a good reason.

“Nest, I swear, you missed your calling. You would have been a gorram good pilot.”

“Too busy playing soldier, rescuing damsels in distress,” Nest Themego said, checking his miniaturized control panel to ensure that Sininentavas Control had a lock. “Then fighting with that damsel off and on for years and years.”

“Oh come now,” Liss said. “We’ve only broken up, what, four times?”

“Five,” Nest said. “Funny that they never take.”

“Making up is too much fun though,” Liss said.

“It is,” Nest said. “I might have to break up with you again just so we can make up again.”

Liss was silent for a moment longer than Nest liked; he turned to her, and said, “I’m not serious.”

“What? Oh, I know,” Liss said. “We haven’t broken up in seven years, I think this time might be for good. No, I was just…do you think we missed out? Not settling down, like the Vilums did?”

Nest smiled back at the titanic beauty, and shook his head. “First of all, Rixie Carey’s a decade older than you and she had a kid, so there’s still time. Second, do you want to settle down? Because I’m pretty sure that you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” Liss said. “Sometimes I think it would be nice, but I know that when Lissa and Reyan come bounding in, I’ll remember why I like being Auntie Liss, and not mom. But then, there are times…I mean….”

Nest leaned back in his chair. “My darling, troublesome Titan, you know that if you ever changed your mind, you could probably get me to change my mind just by wandering in naked.”

“I do that every day.”

“And I do almost everything you really want me to do, so see? I don’t know about kids, not when they could flatten me on a whim. But if the day ever comes you do…I really don’t want to break up with you again, ever. I’m willing to listen.”

Liss ruffled his hair with her pinkie. “Nest, you are much less likely to give into me than you think, and that’s why I love you. But I know, if I ever change my mind, you will listen, and maybe argue, and in the end we’ll be frustrated for a bit, and then…we’ll make up. And whatever we’ve decided at that point is probably the right decision.”

“We make a gorram good team.”

“We have since the day we met,” Liss said. She jammed a finger on the console. “Attention Vilum family! We’re an hour out of Tukikhota Sininentavas, start packing up!”

Down in the cargo area, Xele chuckled. “Gotcha, Liss. We’ll be ready. Okay, Lissie, Reyan, start…stop…just hold still a…Karral?”

Karral rose from his chair and grabbed his children under each arm like veeballs. “Now we’ve got two rambunctious kiddos who need to settle down!”

The kids, one boy and one girl, laughed as their father spun them around, growling all the way. “Now, are you two gonna help your ydni get things shipshape for landing, or am I gonna have to spin you around again?”

“Again!” Reyan said.

“No no, you say ‘we’ll help,’” Lissa said helpfully. “Then he’ll spin us again.”

“Help!” Reyan corrected.

“There you go!” Karral said, spinning them once more before dropping them in front of their mother. “All ready for you to command.”

Xele chuckled and shook her head. In truth, given that Lissa was five and Reyan two, neither was going to be any significant help, but they’d at least try not to be an active hinderance now, and that was good enough. “I wouldn’t last five minutes without you, you know,” Xele said.

“Not at all. Who made the fun holo game for them last week?” Karral said, folding up the kids’ bunk.

“Ydni!” Reyan shouted.

“That was a rhetorical question, sport, but yes, your mom did that. Your dad couldn’t do that.”

“We gots a good mom, and a good dad, and a good Auntie Liss, and a good Uncle Nest, and….”

“You’ve got a lot of good people, Lissa,” Xele said. “You’re very lucky.”

“All of us are,” Karral said, putting an arm around his wife’s shoulder. “All of us are.”

* * *

The two kids were dozing in the back of the shuttle, which was on a lazy parabola en route for a landing site near Lintukoki. Nest was also asleep in Liss’s pocket. As the shuttle reached the atmosphere, Xele spoke up, on a subject she’d been probing since Liss had brought this job to her.

“So we really don’t know why we’re doing this?”

“For the forty-ninth time, kid, no, we don’t. Lady Tarsuss gave us seven figures plus expenses to go check this woman out. We’re just supposed to try to see what kind of person she is, get a few pictures. That’s all I know.”

“She doesn’t seem like she’d be involved in anything shady,” Karral said. “Looked at her file, she’s been a straight arrow. Well-off by the standards of people who aren’t Lady Tarsuss, but not rich-rich. Nothing in her history to show anything especially unusual, at least not for a business owner on Sininentavas.”

“And what I’ve pulled from the files is a dead end,” Xele said. “Honestly, her finances are boring. Only thing I noticed were that she donated to the Hoplites a couple times, which is rare for a Jotnar, but not unheard of. And looking back to relatives, the only thing I found was that her mom worked for the House of Throden back in the 2080s as a groundskeeper, but so did a lot of people.”

“If this was something that could have been found scouring records, Rixie Carey would have found it already. Maybe the Tarsuss Corporation found a vein of Technetium under the camp, or maybe this woman is thinking of running for the Imperial Legislature, or maybe the retreat is actually a front for organized crime. Or maybe Lady Tarsuss wanted to manipulate us all into taking a vacation at a camp on Sininentavas. I don’t ask questions; I just go where she points me.”

“Smart,” Karral said. “She’s going to get you to go there anyhow. Asking questions just takes longer.”

“I know she didn’t, but I still halfway believe that she convinced the Insectoids to hire Margu to hire us,” Xele said.

“She didn’t,” a small voice called from Liss’s pocket. “She wouldn’t have put us at risk.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” Liss said.

“I’m used to you guys being loud even when you’re trying to be quiet. And yeah…Pryvani Tarsuss might put us in harm’s way, but Avalon…you know, when Syon Fand tested her bioweapon on Avalon, Pryvani had herself injected to test the antigen?”

“Weren’t they going to use it on humans?” Liss asked.

“Well yeah, but we’re pretty close physiologically. And she didn’t want to risk any of the humans if she could avoid it. She knew it could kill her, and I guess it made her deathly sick, but she did it because it would help us. I’m not saying she won’t put someone in harm’s way if there’s no choice, and if someone volunteers, she’ll let them fight. But she won’t put people she cares about in the firefight, not if she can avoid it. She’d take the bullet first.”

“Which is exactly why we’ll go where she sends us,” Xele said.

“And why there are a lot of people who’d line up to take a bullet for her,” Karral said. “People know when a leader has their tail; I know Tarsuss has put all of us at risk sometimes, but I also know if I ended up before a judicator that I’d have the best representation money could buy. And with what she’s given me…given us….”

“Every one of us would tell Pryvani that we knew the risks, and we’d take the turn on Penthe if we had to do it to keep her clean,” Liss said. “So if she wants to send us to a wilderness retreat to do recon on a woman for some reason, we’ll do it, whether it makes sense or not.”

* * *

One of the quirks of being on a planet like Sininentavas is that because the diurnal cycle is so out of whack, it’s never really day or night, but always sort of now. The sun was just rising when they got off the shuttle, but by local time – which was Imperial Standard Time – it was mid-afternoon. Everyone was used to it; Titans had long-ago accepted that there weren’t many worlds with rotation as slow as Archavia, and that passing on a good colony just because it had a 19-hour day/night cycle was a waste of a good planet. Indeed, while the cycle was a good deal closer to Earth’s than Archavia’s, humans would have a much harder time of it; the planet spun just close enough to Earth that a human might be tempted to try to adapt to it. There was no point in even trying if one was a Titan.

At any rate, while the sun was just rising, the day was in full swing, and the group of two parents, two kids, Liss, and Nest were pleased to see that a ground transport was waiting, just as the booking had said it would be. A dark-skinned man who was somewhere between 30 and 50 was waiting for them, along with a young, bored-looking girl who was fiddling with her pad. He ran a hand through a cascade of braids, and smiled. “Hello there! Are you the Vilum party?” he asked in Sininentavan Jotnar.

“We are,” Liss said. “We just need to grab our gear.”

“Not a problem, we’ll get it. Peppi! Get off your pad and help them with their bags.”

“This is a lousy vacation,” the girl muttered.

“This isn’t a vacation,” the man said, grabbing the pad from the girl. “We’re helping pati and akku until pati is back on his feet. Also, you want to go on your school trip, and that isn’t free. I mean, you don’t have to go….”

“Fine, fine. Where are the bags?” Peppi asked, trying and failing to sound polite. The man, who was clearly her father, shook his head.

“Your kids are adorable,” he said, nodding to the girl and boy, who Xele was leading, one by each hand. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“I’m hoping against hope that they aren’t like me when I hit my teens,” Xele said. Well, she said something like that; her Jotnar was far from fluent, but she was trying hard not to use the translator.

“I do speak Standard Galactic Archavian,” the man said, switching over seamlessly. “If you’re from Vorsha you probably don’t get much practice.”

“Yeah, well, my husband’s Jotnar, and my friend here is Jotnar, and they both speak both languages, I should too.”

“My dad’s Melpoman, and when I go to visit the Reef I can barely keep up sometimes,” the man said with a warm smile, continuing in Archavian. “I know there are some Jotnar who have a reputation for being a bit put out when people don’t speak the language, but I’m not one of ‘em.”

“Lot of us are just as stuck up as the Aementi,” Liss agreed. “And with just as little reason.”

“So say we that, sister. I haven’t introduced myself, my mother would smack me. Namø Skamøld, my parents run the camp. My delightful assistant is my daughter, Peppi.”

“Liss Peten, that’s the Vilum family – Karral, Xele, Yulisa and Reyan.”

“Nice to meet you all. And there was a sixth on the reservation, is he….”

“Yoinks!” Peppi cried. Well, she didn’t literally say “yoinks,” but it sounded quite a bit like it.

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you. Was getting this fired up,” a small voice called, as a grav scooter zipped past the girl and toward the group. “Forgot that I disconnected the leads for transit.”

“A human?” Namø asked.

“Is that a problem?” Karral asked, with a bit of an edge in his voice.

“No, no, sorry, it probably…you’re welcome, of course. Just…haven’t had a human visitor to the camp yet. I will warn you, we are a wilderness preserve, there are some wild animals out here.”

“I’ll be careful, don’t worry,” Nest said, piloting his craft near the man.

“He’ll be fine. He’s a Jack, he’s taken down Titans before.”

“Haven’t been an active Jack for five years, and I pushed a couple buttons. But I know we’re in cabins, and we live-fire trained with sciliths, I should be okay.”

“A Jack. So…you’re from Avalon then?” Namø asked.

“Born and raised. Nest Themego, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Themego. Well, if we’re all ready, let’s get in the crawler; it’s about twenty minutes to Hyrikkenwuode.”

The ride was relatively uneventful, though the group did enjoy watching the scenery go by. The island of Lintukoki had its eponymous town on the northern coast, but most of the rest of the island had been made into a game preserve. It wasn’t exactly unspoiled – a number of Archavian creatures had been loosed on Sininentavas, and there were feral kipps and shaars, not to mention some mid-sized game animals. But a number of the native Sininentavan creatures had endured and thrived, and the foliage was an odd cross between slightly-teal Archavian plants and the true-green native ones.

“So your parents own the camp?” Liss asked, having staked out the seat right behind Namø.

“Yup. My father just had a knee replacement. He’s doing well, but no heavy lifting for a few weeks, and he’s supposed to go easy. Usually he’d be the one driving you down. But it’s almost Hlaffest, I’m a teacher and my wife is on sabbatical, so all of us, including the kids, were on free. Worked out we could come down and help, whether my daughter wanted to or not.”

“I wanted to help!” Peppi protested.

“You did, in theory, until you heard that Hrild’s family was going to Naesavarna. But you’re a good kid for wanting to help, even if you can be grumpy.”

Peppi rolled her eyes. “Anyway, so Mr. Themego, what brings a human out to Sininentavas?”

“My girlfriend,” Nest said. “Says I haven’t seen enough of Jotnarherath, and if I’m gonna date a Jotnar I probably should.”

“Your…girlfriend?” Peppi said with a bit of a squeak. “I…mean…you’re, um….”

“Nest and I have been dating for years,” Liss said. “Which is why I’m not worried about him here, he’s tough enough to put up with me, he can handle a kipp.”

“Honestly, I’m hoping the kipp will be scared of all of them and leave me alone,” Nest said. “But don’t tell anyone.”

“So Ms. Peten, you live on Avalon then?”

“I have a flat there. I run a courier service, so I’m kind of all over the place. But yeah, it’s quite lovely.”

“You’ll have to talk to my mom. Both of you,” Namø said. “She’s been quite interested in Avalon. Said she’d visit if she wouldn’t break things. How do you manage not to break things?”

“I stay up on the mountain,” Liss said. “There’s space for Titans there, gravity-controlled. And a couple of stations, too. You can use a holosuite to see the city if you want. It projects you at human scale.”

“So, like, tiny?” Peppi said.

“No, normal,” Nest said. “It’s you all who are big.”

“That’s fair,” Namø said. “All right, here we are.”

Hyrikkenwuode was understated; it was just a lovely little campground (well, little on Titan scales – it was slightly larger than Rhode Island). But it was a spectacular example of a lovely little campground, with its gravel entrance road in excellent repair and a wooden arch with a welcoming message in Jotnar and Archavian, clearly repainted within the last year. Namø guided the crawler to the main building, which was right next to the lovely (again, relatively) little cottage where the owner lived, and where Namø had been raised.

The woman who walked down the path to greet them caused the three adult Titans to pause, for different reasons. She was probably in her thirties, still quite pretty, with long blonde hair tied into twin braids. But what drew their attention was the blue paint on her face, three lines above her right eye, three below.

Liss fumbled for just half a second, but Karral had been drilled on manners when he was younger, and though it was not his belief system, he was always respectful of those who believed. So he said, automatically, “Knowledge and Strength, Messenger.”

“Love and Peace to you, brother,” the woman replied. “And that’s the last time you need to do that. I’m Reform, not Orthodox, and besides, I’m on sabbatical. Katri Mäkinen, I’m Namø’s wife.”

“Karral Vilum, and thank the Emperor,” Karral said. “I mean no disrespect to the Orthodox, but….”

“No…I share your sentiment,” Katri said. “After all, my husband is Jotnar and Melpoman. Two fine provinces, with fine people in each. I was Orthodox growing up, but….”

She paused, and broke away from that train of though. “Anyhow, I know that you know why I am no longer Orthodox. There is one adult Daughter of Savarna here, but you are not his spouse, I suspect?”

“No, I’m not,” Liss said. Her radar was up; unlike Karral, she tended to be a bit less receptive to Otnists. Probably because her father had been one, or at least, had claimed to be one. Of course, she knew that her mother might have been lying about that; nevertheless, she had no desire to be preached at about Rignaraka.

But the woman smiled gently. “Again, do not worry, sister. I’m not here to minister, I’m just here to help out until Father Akwe is healthy. I may recommend paths in the woods where one can see animals; I will not direct you on a path in life unless you ask, and if you ask…honestly, don’t ask, I’m not always sure of my own path, and like I said, I’m taking a break.”

“Katri is working on a translation of the Otneta into a Terran language called…what is it again?”

“Suomen kieli. It’s surprisingly close to Jotnar. The humans have maintained a number of stories that were told to them, but some Savarnan history got mixed up with lessons from the Otneta, as well as myths from some of the other religions of our people. And of course, they made up stories of their own, because they forgot, eventually, where the stories had come from. I’d like them to be able to see the original…or at least, the version we have.”

“I just hope that you won’t be telling them their stories were wrong.”

It took Katri a moment to locate the small voice that said that, but when she did a bright smile split her face. “Well! Brother human, greetings to you. I should not dream of telling them that they were wrong, you can’t be wrong about myths. We do not remember who first told the stories in the Otneta. Perhaps someday, far in the future, a race as much larger than us as we are of you will come and tell us that they told us those stories, long ago. I should like to see how they told the lessons…but I would not give up the Otneta, any more than your people should give up your stories.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met an Otnist Messenger before,” Xele said, holding each of her children by the hand. “I’m Karral’s wife, Xele, nice to meet you.”

“Well-met, Xele,” Katri said, giving a slight bow. “Your accent…I can’t place it. Shelian?”

Xele sighed. “Been twenty years, but it still has the Federation edge to it,” she said. “And don’t worry, Messenger; I left my home province for a reason.”

“A bigot would not be married to a Jotnar, sister Federationer. And there are Jotunn who are as bigoted as any Federationer might be. Like I said…I’m not Orthodox Otnist because they tend to look down on those who marry Outside the Tribe. And that’s as bigoted as Jota Cesil, may he find grace in Helheim.”

Xele chuckled ruefully. “Messenger, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that Jota Cesil won’t find grace in any place that does not bow to him.”