The Tower and the Hive (43 page)

“We'd have to check periodically,” the Admiral said, shaking his head as if he didn't quite believe that such an expedient would suffice.

“I expect so, sir,” Thian agreed amiably. “But that wouldn't take more than one of the fast scouts, with a T-2 aboard, instead of a Fleet.”

“True, true,” Ashiant said, still not truly convinced, as Thian perceived from his body language.

“Your orders are now to leave this system and proceed to the next one that's been listed as Hiver-occupied.”

Ashiant tapped in the relevant report. “Hmmm. Seven days away at top speed. Ah well, one more on our way home. Thank you, Thian.”

 

“Thian honey,” Gravy began that night as they made ready for bed. “If we have to check out every single one of those suspect systems on our way back, there's no reason I can't ask for maternity leave, now is there? I mean, Laria's working her Tower and nav regs allow me to work till I get too clumsy ... and ... well, would you mind being a father?”

Thian turned toward her, his face lighting up with his delight. He crossed the distance between them and held her fiercely to him.

“Mind? I've been hoping to persuade you to consider it!”

“I don't need much persuasion, Thian honey,” she said pertly, and reached up to brush back his white lock before framing his face in her hands. “In fact, I stopped prevention just in case you were...”

His response showed her just how much he appreciated her willingness. Laria might have the first new generation of Lyons, but with such obvious cooperation, he and Alison Ann would not be far behind. And a “happy event” would certainly make the long Search worthwhile on a personal as well as a professional level.

 

Operation Switch was completed two days later. In several of the now abandoned hives, tiny creatures had been found running circles and been 'ported to their respective new homes.

While an atmosphere of celebration marked the final evening meal on board the
Asimov,
attended by all the participating Talents and the captains, every one involved was tacitly hoping that the “gentle rain”
would
have a long-term effect. Certainly the potential for another queens' war on Xh-33 had been defused.

Captain Osullivan had orders from the High Council to leave the
Strongbow
and the M.S.
KLLM
in orbit, keeping a close watch, with Commander Makako in the Moon Base on Xh-33. They had sufficient quantities of the gentle rain of Pierre Laney's compound to soak the ground: the pheromone compound would permeate the atmosphere and drift down into the queens' quarters.

The report from Thian Lyon in the First Fleet had confirmed that the latest Hiver-occupied world he had investigated was in no danger of erupting into dispute, and the pheromone spray saturating the soil should have the necessary calming effect. If the oldest Hiver-occupied world had never indulged in overproduction of workers to require colonization, perhaps that had been the original intent, not the constant emigrations and “sterilization” of other planets and their indigenous life-forms. Yet there were many questions unanswered. Those worlds that the Hivers had occupied, or were occupying, had to be identified. In the course of that wide-ranging survey, more planets could be made available to Mrdinis and Humans.

“Our drives starward are not so different from the Hivers' after all,” Pierre remarked sotto voce to Captain Osullivan.

“No, they're not,” Etienne Osullivan replied. He had entertained that thought on several occasions, with some private chagrin. “Except that any world with an evolving proto-sentient life-form is off limits to us and our Mrdini allies.”

“True,” Pierre replied with a tight smile. “But should we not also limit our aggrandizement when we have so criticized another's?”

“That is not for me to decide.” Osullivan was extremely glad of that.

“Nor I. I merely make an observation. But this has been the most stimulating task of my entire career,” Pierre went on, idly turning his wineglass by its stem as he mused. Then he lifted it to Osullivan. “This has been a marriage of the scientific and the psychic.”

“Indeed it has,” said Osullivan, lifting his glass to touch Pierre's. “You might say God-sent.”

Pierre caught the pun and laughed appreciatively before he finished the fine wine in his glass. “I am scarcely God or a god, Captain, but I do have the finest nose in the galaxy. I never once expected that my Talent would prove of such worth to my profession.”

“We all serve, Pierre, each in our own way.”

Jeff Raven brought back to the Rowan in their Callisto quarters the news that Zara's research had borne fruit.

“You mean, don't you, that no fruit will be borne,” said the Rowan, locked in her husband's homecoming embrace. She could feel the sense of accomplishment vibrating through his body without needing to touch his mind.

“Whatever,” he said, chuckling at her correction. He released her somewhat so that, with his arm draped around her slender waist, they could walk into the dining room where dinner awaited him. He appreciated that his wife preferred to cook their meals. They enjoyed the tranquillity of their evening hours together. Both were on call for emergencies, but both had also trained their assistants in Blundell and Callisto Tower to recognize a “real” problem from something that could be solved by them or in the morning.

“Odd that the solution to both our major problems should be linked to pheromones.”

“They certainly play a larger part in interactions of all the known species than I ever realized,” Jeff Raven said as he drew out her chair and seated her at the table. “Let's just hope that such simple remedies could be found to all our problems.”

He filled their wineglasses before he sat down. Then he inhaled deeply of the aromas wafting up from the covered dishes on the hot plates. “This smells great!”

“It's the taste that really matters,” the Rowan said, and then waggled a finger at him. “Let's think no more about problems, love.”

Jeff smiled lovingly at her. “A toast first, to Pierre and his nose, to our children and their children and to those who will take our places: May they have the sense... and the scents... to provide peace throughout the galaxy.”

“To peace!”