As the economic crisis of the late twentieth century--as well as the political turmoil created by the impoverishment of Third World nations--continued into the twenty-first century, philosophers, political and otherwise, came to believe that the human race would not likely survive to see the next century. Although the nuclear threat of the old Cold War no longer existed, another threat--one seen as even more dangerous--was recognized. The human race, they believed, was dying from a lack of spirit, a lack of a sense of purpose. They called it Spiritual Dissolution. As the species became more dependent on its technological creations, the spiritual needs of the human animal became intermixed and confounded with its physical needs until most, including social scientists, could no longer define a difference. Unable to understand what was lacking, humankind increasingly turned to drugs, virtual reality, the pseudosciences, and physical stimulation--be it sexual or otherwise--in an attempt to find a sense of fulfillment. The great religions of the world fought back with a relentless dedication, but the old myths had lost their magic for a generation raised on the known absurdities of quantum mechanics, the narcissistic futility of technothink, and instantaneous gratification.

The failure of religion, and the ignorance of political and social leaders, led to the creation of a new mode of thinking that came to be known as Holistic Constructionism. Drawing from the past, as well as creating new ways of thinking, Holistic Constructionists attempted to blend the best of religion, science and philosophy into a unified whole. The first Holies, as they were called, began to publish their works at the turn of the millennium. Not much attention was paid to the Holies at first, but as the century pressed on, more and more of the world's peoples joined their ranks until they became a significant force in international politics. Eventually the leaders of many nations were themselves Holies, and in some cases Holistic Constructionism became the official guiding philosophy of entire countries.

Although unification was the calling card of Holies, they were themselves split into two major camps when it came to the problem of how to cure the race of Spiritual Dissolution. The first camp, the one that failed, believed that the human race itself must change. The second camp, the one that had some degree of success, believed that the world must change. Historians are in disagreement as to why the two camps could not see that their beliefs were not disparate.

The first camp drew its thinking more from the details of hard science, placing less importance on religious or philosophical considerations. They set out to change the very physical nature of humankind and thus, they thought, the spiritual nature. This led to the creation of genoclonic reproduction, a process whereby the genetic material from many donors was combined and the resulting egg planted in a woman's womb to give birth. The genetic sequences chosen were, of course, selected by their perceived superior qualities. The first experiments in genocloning resulted in the births of grotesque creatures that had to be put to death. But eventually the process was refined until healthy children were born that indeed seemed to be healthier, more intelligent, more creative, and generally superior to average human stock. As news of this success got out, more and more couples applied for genoclonic reproduction, and soon nearly five percent of the world's population consisted of genoclones. It was not until the genoclones reached adulthood, that the Holies realized their creation was not a happier, more spiritually fulfilled human. Indeed most of them were less fulfilled, since they were born into a world not designed for them, and were treated as outcasts by normal humans who resented them. This resulted in the genoclones banding together to form separatist groups that did not consider themselves to be part of the human race. Eventually they formed terrorist groups, that sought to dominate the lesser humans, and gain control of the world. (See Genoclone.) By the year 2030, genoclonic birth had been made illegal by all the governments of Earth.

The second camp took another approach. They sought to rid the human race of Spiritual Dissolution, by uniting the peoples of the Earth with a common sense of purpose. Because of their great political power, they convinced the United Nations to rewrite its charter and form what was to be called the World Government. The details of this joining of nations under one government took many years, but eventually the WG was created with the major world powers being its first members. The charter explicitly stated that each country would be an independent nation, but that its relationship to the WG would be similar to the relationship of the United States to its federal government: autonomous, yet not entirely so. Many nations resisted the WG, but the economic advantages were too great to ignore, and by the year 2043 virtually all nations had come under the umbrella of the WG, except for a few insignificant holdouts.

Thus the Earth was united, and disputes could be settled in the World Congress, in principle if not in fact. But the Holies knew this was not enough. It was only a first step, and the peoples of the Earth needed a common goal upon which to focus their spiritual needs. With the equalization of the standard of living for all people, and the enforcement of equal trade amongst the nations, the world experienced an economic boom of proportions unprecedented in history. This growth was further enhanced by the taming of fusion energy, and the world seemed to have a virtually infinite supply of energy and economic power. This allowed for the creation of the Great Idea. (See Great Idea; Forever Project.)

The Great Idea became the Forever Project, and the world set about the task of building a World Ship that would travel to the stars, seeding the suitable planets it found with humans. Thus the spiritual goal of humankind became the expansion of the human species throughout the galaxy. This did not stop the Spiritual Dissolution, but it slowed the process down enough for the effort to be worth it, and it did offer hope that even if humans did not survive on Earth, perhaps their descendants would survive among the stars, perhaps forever.

By the year 2063, the World Ship, christened the Forever, was completed after 20 years of construction. Then tragedy struck when a group of terrorists calling themselves Enonians, skyjacked the Forever. (See Enon.) The Enonians left the solar system, taking the hopes of the Holies with them. The Enonians claimed to be extraterrestrials that had been exiled on the Earth 100,000 years earlier. The popular press of the time also claimed the Enonians were immortal and were blood drinkers, although it is unclear if the Enonians ever made this claim. Most historians believe the Enonians were in fact genoclones, and that either they or the popular press fabricated the story of their alien origin. No conclusive evidence was ever found to prove they were extraterrestrials, but a small number of historians to this day maintain that they were indeed aliens from a nearby star system.

--excerpted from the Encyclopedia Planicia,
10th Edition, pages 3056-3058, © 2143 WG

Valencia was not sure what was happening.

She sat on the large crate, at one side of the loading bay, and kept to herself as much as possible. Most humans were not pleasant creatures--especially the males that kept approaching her looking for sexual favors. But she had to act like a common human, and not show her distaste.

By now the humans had decided that the lot of them were prisoners. It had been nearly ten hours since the Captain issued the order for the security force to assemble in the loading bay. She did not want to go, but Norse, her team leader, had told her to go with the others and see what the Captain had to say. She had suspected it was a trick, and Norse had agreed. But someone had to go, and her ability to read minds--at least on the emotional level--made her the best choice. When the Captain did not show, and the internal bay doors had been sealed, she knew her suspicions had been correct.

There had been other clues. The first was the ruckus raised in the loading bay next door. Someone had forced their way into the bay from outside the ship, and had been successful despite all odds. The sound of the Guardian ships bombarding the shields had been deafening. And when the sound stopped, she had gone to the bulkhead separating the two bays and listened with her mind for the presence of the intruders. She could sense their minds only a little--enough to know they were not humans--but not enough to know who they were. They had to be genoclones, but not her tribe. She would have been able to sense her own, and forced entry was not part of their plan anyway. Most of the tribes lived in peace, and her occasional work as an ambassador had allowed her contact with almost all genoclonic variants. She had learned that all genoclones had a certain feel about them, whatever their tribe. And this feel made them easily identifiable and distinguishable from humans. The intruders did not have this feel. They had little feel at all that she could sense. She was disturbed by this, since it meant that a tribe was operating independently of the Covenant of Tribes. And this tribe was very different.

Her belief was confirmed several hours later, when two of the intruders came to the loading bay and boldly entered armed with nothing more than blasters. She had been as stunned as the humans at their appearance. They looked terrestrial enough. But there was a greenish tint to their skin, and their eyes were as dark as a black hole. Valencia had thought the intruders would immediately be killed, but when the humans got over their shock and began grabbing for their blasters, the two genoclones picked them off one by one until the others stopped and stared at them, transfixed. At least forty humans had been killed, and of the four-hundred or so guards present, not one had fired a blaster. The dexterity and precision with which the pair had gained control of the situation amazed even her, and she was used to the superiority of genoclones.

It was then that she felt something tug at her mind. Something was telling her to bring her weapons and place them in the pile near the door as the humans were doing. She had known she could resist--the pair of genoclones were vastly outnumbered, and their mind control was spread thin--but she had done as the humans to avoid detection. As she approached to give up her weapon, she noticed the female genoclone--the other was male--staring deep into her, perhaps recognizing her as a genoclone. But she had done nothing as Valencia dropped her weapon onto the pile, and then turned to move back into the bay. When the weapons had all been collected, androids came in and hauled the arsenal away. The pair had then left, taking two humans with them. It did not register in her mind until later that the female's eyes had been glowing red.

And now, Valencia sat on the crate, wondering what in hell was going on.

"They're vampires, you know," a man's voice said.

"What?" She looked down at the man, feeling angry at herself for not noticing his approach.

"Vampires," he repeated. For a human, he was not too bad looking.

"That's ridiculous!" she said.

The man pulled himself up onto the crate and sat beside her.

"My name's Blake," he said.

"Valencia," she responded. She studied him. He could not have been more than twenty--her age--and she did not find him as irritating as most humans. Valencia felt his mind, but he was definitely human.

"I read this book once," he said. "It was about vampires. I didn't believe a thing it said, but it was fun to read. Anyway, the book claimed that vampires co-evolved on the Earth with humans, and still existed in great numbers. It went into great detail about how to recognize a vampire, and how to kill it. The description it gave matched the pair we saw earlier exactly."

"And so you conclude they must be vampires?"

"Like I said, I didn't believe the book. But now I have to wonder."

"They must be genoclones. I'm afraid the idea of vampires is too much for me," she said.

"Perhaps. But they were just as the book described. Green skin, dark eyes that glowed red, long straight black hair, and good looks. The book said that vampires were always very handsome or beautiful. They use their looks to attract prey."

"For what?"

"To drink their blood, of course. That's what vampires do."

She gave him a look of incredulity. "I can't accept that. They were genoclones."

"Genoclones are human. These guys were definitely not human."

Valencia started to tell him that genoclones were not human, but caught herself.

"They've altered themselves. You know that genoclones continue to experiment with genetics, despite the laws against it."

"True. But why green skin?"

He had her on this one. Why, indeed, green skin? She could see no advantage, and a ton of disadvantages.

"It's a side effect, perhaps," she said.

"That could be. But the book gave many examples of vampire sightings going back for thousands of years. The description is always the same. You can't account for those sightings by saying they were genoclones."

"The similarity is coincidence."

"What about their powers? Think about it, Valencia. There was only two of them, yet they were able to make us give up our weapons by controlling our minds. You felt it, just like everyone else."

"Yes. But I think the genoclone explanation is more reasonable. Vampires are just myth."

"Perhaps you are right. But I've never heard of genoclones like this."

Neither had she. If there was a tribe that had advanced the art of genetic manipulation to give them such powers, they were keeping themselves a secret--not only from humans, but other genoclones as well. Among the Covenant of Tribes, she was considered an advanced psychic. But she could only read emotions, not thoughts, and she certainly could not control others the way these two had. And if these beings were genoclones--and she believed they were--then who were they? Where did they come from? And why were they unknown to the other tribes?

"The two men . . ." Blake said.

"Huh?" Valencia prompted.

"Why did they take those two men with them?"

"I imagine to interrogate them?"

"But they were just privates? Wouldn't it make more sense to take officers?"

"Yes, but--"

"It didn't matter what their rank was! All that mattered was that they were human. They took them to drink their blood. That's the only thing that makes sense."

"You're a scary person--"

As if on que, the entrance to the bay opened and the female entered, the doors sealing behind her. She looked right at Valencia and began walking toward her, her pace steady and deliberate, but somehow graceful.

"Oh, shit!" Blake said.

Valencia's heart pounded, her mind racing. The genoclone, or whatever it was, was coming directly at her, its black eyes never leaving hers. The others in the bay were watching, but no one was going to help her. They were afraid, and she couldn't blame them.

The being stopped and looked up at her. Valencia could not believe the power she sensed in this being. There was something extraordinary about the female, but she could not decide exactly what it was--something unearthly. She exuded a sense of purpose, a sense of absolute determination, of confidence. And Valencia had never felt such intense fear within herself. It was almost enough to make her take Blake seriously, but not quite. If this creature was a genoclone, then her tribe had discovered something not even imagined by the other tribes.

"Come with me," the female commanded.

"What are you going to do with her?" Blake asked.

The female rolled her eyes to look at him, without moving her head. She said nothing.

"You're a vampire, aren't you?" Blake continued.

The female continued her scrutiny of Blake, and her eyes, which had been dark, turned a violent red. Valencia could feel something happening to Blake. She had never sensed anything like this in a human--it was like his head was going to explode.

"He didn't mean that!" she said to the female. "He's just afraid. It was a nervous reaction. Please don't hurt him."

The female returned her gaze to Valencia and did not move for sixty seconds. Its eyes gradually grew dark.

"Come with me," it repeated.

"I will." Valencia pushed herself off the crate and stood face to face with the female. It felt like she was standing before a goddess. She felt her mind being touched, briefly, gently.

The being turned and walked with magnificent gracefulness to the exit, and Valencia followed. She felt dazed, her mind pulled in opposing directions. She was filled with fear of what was to come, yet overpowering curiosity. She must know what this being was, even if the knowledge killed her.

When they were outside the loading bay, the female turned to her.

"You may call me Lasandra," she said, her tone softer, almost polite.

"I am Valencia."

"Yes, I know."

"You can read my mind?"

"Yes. That is how I know you are not a normal human."

"I am not human!" Valencia insisted, with more force than she intended.

Lasandra smiled at her.

"Do not be afraid, Valencia. If you cooperate, you will not be harmed."

"What do you want with me?"

"You will find out soon enough."

They took the shuttle and then the speedlift to the bridge. When the speedlift doors slid open, she saw two more of Lasandra's kind. One, the male that had accompanied Lasandra on their first visit to the loading bay, sat at the pilot's station. The other, a short but muscular male, sat in the captain's chair. He stood and faced them as they walked onto the dais.

"This is the one I told you about," Lasandra said.

"Into the conferral room," the male said.

They sat her in a chair and stood before her.

"My name is Mandoss."

"Valencia," she responded.

They studied her for several moments, and Valencia felt discomfort. The atmosphere here was not nearly so ominous as in the loading bay, as if that had been, at least in part, an act to frighten the security force. But the sense of power these beings radiated was still present and she still did not know who or what she was dealing with.

"You are a genoclone," Mandoss said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"And there are others aboard the Forever?"

"Why don't you read my mind?" she asked.

"It's not that simple," someone said from the doorway.

Valencia turned and immediately recognized the man as the infamous Forrest Hauser. He walked into the room. "Let's all sit," Hauser said. "Standing around her like a flock of vultures will only frighten her."

They took their seats, with Mandoss sitting at the desk. Hauser was staring at her. She could not feel her mind touched, but something was happening. A tingle started in her spine and spread to both her brain and down into her loins. It was not unpleasant. It was almost sexual in nature. But she detested him for having this effect on her. She tried to feel his mind, but was denied entry.

"You are not of the Covenant, are you?" Valencia said. She put the question to Hauser. He looked like a normal human. But he was not. He had been changed somehow. He had the same intensity the others radiated, if not as great.

"The Covenant?" Mandoss asked.

Hauser answered. "The genoclones have organized themselves into tribes. It is estimated that as many as one-hundred tribes exist. While the tribes disagree on a lot of points, and some fighting does occur between tribes, they do, for the most part, coexist peacefully. They have formed what they call the Covenant of Tribes, its primary purpose being the taking of the Forever, and the seeding of the galaxy with genoclones instead of humans."

"I see," Mandoss said. He turned his attention to Valencia. "So you and others infiltrated the security force to further this end?"

Valencia could see nothing to gain by denying what he said. They would just pick it out of her mind, anyway.

"Yes," she said.

"How many are there?"

"Five from my tribe, the Astraea. But there are other tribes represented. Only the team leader for each tribe knows who the others are. I am not a team leader."

"Are there any other genoclones held with the prisoners?"

"Not that I could sense."

Mandoss looked at Lasandra.

"She is telling the truth. I sensed no others."

"So they are free in the ship," Mandoss concluded. "Valencia, can you tell me how many there are?"

"I can't be sure. More than a hundred, I think. Perhaps two-hundred."

"That fits," Hauser said. "The security system has detected the presence of one-hundred and seventy humans in hiding, at least. There may be more--"

"Genoclones are not human!" Valencia said, forcefully. It was not just his words that offended her. Something about him--perhaps the way he, a mere human, could enter her mind--made her distrust and dislike him.

"Of course, my mistake," Hauser quickly responded.

The group of them watched her. Valencia knew they had to be genoclones--no other reasonable explanation existed. But why they had kept themselves a secret, she could not fathom.

"What tribe are you?" she asked.

"We are not a tribe," Mandoss answered.

"But you must be genoclones."

"We are not genoclones."

Valencia was flustered. If they told her they were vampires, she didn't think she could restrain from laughing.

"Then who are you? What are you? You are certainly not human."

"We are Enonians. We are not of Earth, but from a distant star system."

"Aliens?"

"It is true, Valencia," Hauser said.

She looked at him, unable to hide her disdain in her expression. "What is your part in this?"

"I am a transitioner. I have been converted to one of them."

She found all this hard to except. But she had to admit it did fit, no matter how unlikely it seemed. She decided to play along, to accept their story as true, until she learned enough to either confirm or refute it.

"So what do you want with me?" she asked.

Mandoss spoke. "Perhaps to join forces. Your Covenant of Tribes wants the Forever. We have her. But she is a big ship. While she is fully automated, we are few, and would prefer to have a sizable crew to tend her. We want to meet with your leaders to discuss a possible partnership."

"You want us to be your crew?"

"Yes."

"What would we get out of this partnership?"

"Representation. Your leaders would be consulted on various issues."

"But you would remain in complete control."

"Yes, absolutely. We have no intention of turning the Forever over to you."

"And if we refuse?"

"Then we will destroy you."

The matter-of-fact tone with which Mandoss said this startled her. She studied the Enonians, trying to gauge their expressions, but they were looking at her with faces so dispassionate they were unreadable.

"So we would become your crew, and in return you spare our lives," she said, eyes on Mandoss.

"Oh, it would be more than that. You have your agenda. Where possible we would allow you to complete your plans. And you will receive a share of the seeders."

"Our purpose is to seed the galaxy with genoclones."

"If that is what you want."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Arrange a meeting with your leaders. Tell them that our offer is given in the spirit of cooperation. You have something we need. We have something you need. We wish to form an alliance."

"A one-sided alliance--"

"I will not deny that," Mandoss said. "But it is the best we can offer. You will find that if you cooperate with us, we will cooperate with you."

Valencia nodded her understanding. "I will have to go to them."

"Then do it."

They waited.

"You mean I am free to go?"

"Yes."

She stood, feeling confused, and went to the door.

"Valencia," Lasandra called.

"Yes?"

"Our offer is made in good faith. If we detect any deceit or trickery, we will destroy the lot of you. Make sure your people understand that."

"I will."

Valencia turned and made her way to the speedlift. The Enonian pilot glanced at her, but otherwise paid her no mind. She punched instructions into the speedlift control panel, and braced herself as the doors shut and she felt herself drop. Her mind was a flurry of activity. No matter how incredible the claim that the Enonians were from another star system, she was inclined to believe them. Terrestrials had been searching the stars for evidence of extraterrestrial civilizations since the middle of the last century, and as the years had gone by the equipment used in the search had grown increasingly sophisticated. Yet not one bit of data had ever been detected to suggest intelligent life, and certainly not from a nearby star system. If the Enonians were extraterrestrials, then they must be from very far away. And if that was true, how did they get to Earth? Did they have some method of propulsion as yet unknown on Earth, a method that would allow them to approach or even exceed the speed of light in an apparent violation of the laws of physics? Or were they descendants of a race that set out hundreds or thousands of years ago--or had an extended lifespan and an incredible amount of patience?

And why did they look so much like terrestrials?

The speedlift stopped and opened its doors. She was deep within the bowels of the ship, near the agrav generators and other machinery she could not identify. Norse had told her this was where they would be hiding and awaiting her return, but that did not mean they would still be here--they could have relocated for any number of reasons.

Valencia looked out at the bank of huge, electrically powered gravity field generators and the overhead focusing plates. This was technology she did not even attempt to understand. But then she was a geneticist, not a physicist. As she walked across the platform, she could feel the inevitable distortions in the gravity field that existed so close to generators of this size. It was an odd sensation. Although her mental sense of down remained below her feet, she could feel different parts of her body being pulled in different directions, and her long hair seemed to have developed its own notions of down as it pulled first one way and then another. It was like invisible, ghostly hands were fighting for possession of her body. The feeling was eerie, and she didn't like it.

Damn it, Norse! Where are you? She reached out with her mind and tried to feel the others, but she had learned long ago that strong electromagnetic fields affected her psychic abilities. Just because she could not feel them did not mean they were not here. She continued her search, hoping that she would either find them, or find some clue left to direct her to their new location. She did not relish the thought of having to search the entire ship for them; that would take weeks.

Something caught her eye, and she immediately moved to hide behind a nearby panel of electronic displays. She had only gotten a glimpse and could not be sure who it was she saw. But someone was coming her way, and she would wait until they came into view before deciding to reveal herself or not. Not all the security force holdouts were necessarily genoclones, and those that were not would be suspicious of anyone they did not know. And the fact that her holster was devoid of a blaster, made her even more suspicious, and vulnerable.

She could hear the unusually heavy footsteps approaching. Whoever it was, they did not seem to be concerned about remaining undetected, and that could not be one of her team. The footsteps were within a few meters of her, and she reached with her mind, but still could not feel anyone despite the proximity--it was as if the person had no mind, no soul.

It was not until she saw the mechanical body that she realized why.

"Worker!" she demanded.

The creature stopped and turned to face her. Its eyes glowed yellow, and she was reminded of the way Lasandra's eyes had glowed red.

"May I help you?" it said.

"Yes. Have you seen others in the area?"

"I am sorry. I do not understand others. Please be more specific."

"Have you seen any--humans in the area?" She wanted to say genoclones, but realized the device might not be programmed to respond to that term.

"Yes, I have seen humans in this area," it answered.

"Recently?"

"I know that recently refers to a time period. But my database does not associate a definite quantity with the word. Please specify a time interval."

"Within the last three hours," she said, frustrated by the machine's inability to make inferences.

"There have been humans here in that time period," it said.

"Within the last two hours? Answer yes or no."

"Yes."

"Within the last hour?"

"Yes."

"Are there humans present here now, besides myself I mean?"

"Yes."

"Where are they?"

"At this time I am only aware of one. The human is standing behind you."

Valencia spun around and saw Norse grinning at her.

"Who is your mechanical friend?" he said.

"I think his name is Idiot," she said, smiling broadly at him. She went to him and they embraced. "It's so good to be back with you. I didn't think I would see you again."

"Do you require my services further?" Idiot asked.

"No. Go on about your business," Valencia told it, and the machine went away.

"Follow me," Norse said.

He led her into an access tunnel off the main floor. They went about thirty meters and entered a small chamber. It was dark, except for a small lamp set on low, and the place was hot and smelled of machine oil. It was obvious they planned to be here for some time. Bedrolls were spread on the floor, and food canisters were stacked in one corner. A table sat against a wall, surrounded by chairs. A portable terminal sat on the table, hand wired into the computer network.

"Where are the others," Valencia asked.

They sat at the table before he answered.

"Gathering supplies, and whatever information they can. I've been trying to break into protected areas of the computer system, but the access codes are not working. They've changed the codes, and I can't get in."

Valencia contemplated him as he spoke. She was in love with him. He had long brown hair and matching brown eyes. She loved the way he was always pitching his head to get the hair out of his eyes. And he had a handsome face--strong cheek bones and jutting jaw. She did not mind the long scare on his face; if anything, it made him more handsome. They had made love many times, but Norse showed no inclination to bond with her. She knew he was having sex with others, but she denied any jealousy she felt--that was an emotion genoclones were not allowed.

"It's pretty obvious," Norse was saying, "that a tribe not of the Covenant has taken the Forever right out from under us. We don't know who they are, but their spirit of non-cooperation with the other tribes means that we will have to take the Forever away from them before--"

"They are not genoclones," she interrupted.

"What? Who else could have pulled this off?"

Valencia told him of the events in the loading bay, and the offer Mandoss had made.

Norse stared at her, bewildered. "Do you believe them?"

"Maybe. I can't get into their minds. And this Hauser person, I can't read him either. I don't know how many there are, but they did indicate their numbers were few. They need us to man this ship, and in return they will help us with our goals."

"You seem convinced."

"Probably more so than I really am. They made it very clear that we would be destroyed if we did not agree to their terms."

"You said you pretended to be controlled, when you gave up your blaster. If they cannot exert mind control over us, and their numbers are few, we might be able to defeat them."

"Norse, if you had been there--if you had seen what I saw, you would not think that. There were only two of them, yet they were able to control four-hundred human minds. They could not control me because they were spread too thin. And I know the female, Lasandra, recognized me for what I was. She knew I was faking it. That's why she came and got me later."

He seemed lost in thought. Valencia did not touch his mind. That would have been an unwarranted invasion of privacy.

"Aliens?" he said, finally. "You're sure they are not genoclones masquerading as aliens for some reason?"

"Of that I am sure. I thought they were genoclones at first. But after talking with them, and seeing what they could do--extraterrestrial origin is the only explanation available."

"So these aliens want to meet with us to discuss terms, and if we don't agree to their terms, they will kill us."

"Yes. But at least they are willing to talk with us, and perhaps make concessions. They want our willing cooperation, and that means they will have to give something in return. It may be our only chance."

Norse rubbed his chin. "You are sure of yourself?"

"Not totally. But I do feel they are being honest. Their attitude was very direct and to the point. They do not play games. And I do believe them when they say they will destroy us otherwise."

"Then we have no choice."

"That's the way I see it."

Norse stood. "I will go and gather the other leaders. You wait here. Be prepared to convince them as you've convinced me. It will not be easy--they will be suspicious."

"I know," Valencia said.

Norse checked the charge on his blaster, holstered it, and left her alone in the small hiding place.

The meeting with the team leaders had been difficult. Despite the Covenant of Tribes, the leaders were suspicious of each other, and certainly suspicious of Valencia who had already had contact with the aliens, and may, they thought, be under their control. They had argued loudly for hours. Valencia had to repeat her story so many times, she had grown sick of it. But in the end, logic had reluctantly prevailed, and now the twenty-five team leaders and Valencia sat in the conferral room, facing the aliens. It was the same group she had faced earlier, but with another female who identified herself as Linwolse.

Mandoss gave a brief speech outlining the terms of the agreement from the Enonian point of view. He then invited discussion.

"How do we know you will hold up your end of the agreement?" one of the team leaders asked.

"If you do your part, we will do our part," Mandoss answered in the dispassionate, matter-of-fact tone he was so adept at. Valencia knew it was an act. She could sense the Enonians were a fiercely passionate species.

Similar questions were put forth by the others, each approaching the issue of trust from a different angle. Valencia flinched at the way some of the questions were worded, but Mandoss did not react. He accepted their distrust as normal, answering each concern with patient reiteration of the same theme: cooperation.

Then, one of the more rash team leaders, who had remained silent throughout the proceedings, stood. "How do we know you are what you say you are? How do we know that you really have the powers Valencia says you have? Might she not be fooled, and you are not nearly so strong as you would have us believe?"

Valencia started to tell him to withdraw his question, but stopped herself.

Mandoss was smiling at him. "Do you wish a demonstration?"

"What kind of demonstration?" the man asked.

"Nothing harmful. Just something to prove our powers."

The man hesitated. "I--yes, that might be helpful," he said, his voice betraying uncertainty.

Mandoss looked at Lasandra. She rose from her chair and went and stood in front of the group, motioning Valencia to stand aside. She studied them for a moment as her eyes grew red. The team leaders consisted of ten females and fifteen males, and each looked at Lasandra with astonishment as they saw her fangs extrude. If nothing else, this would at least convince them that the Enonians were not a secret tribe of genoclones. But there was more to come. Their expressions changed to one of consternation as they felt Lasandra enter their minds and take control. The team leaders stood up and began removing their uniforms. Soon each stood naked beside his or her chair.

Genoclones maintained an open and liberal society, but public display of the genitals was considered improper behavior. The look on their faces was enough to almost make Valencia laugh. But she restrained herself. And besides, she was too busy looking at Norse's naked body to be concerned with anything but the warm desire that radiated from between her legs.

But Lasandra did laugh, and the other Enonians joined in. Finally Lasandra returned to her seat, and told them to get dressed. They did so hurriedly.

"Was that convincing?" Mandoss asked.

No one answered.

Mandoss took that as a yes. "Good. Then we have an agreement?"

Still no one answered.

"An agreement it is, then. I will let you decide amongst yourselves the duty roster. You know what needs to be done. You can decide on your chain of command as you see fit. But absolute authority comes from the bridge. You will do as you are told or we will consider the agreement to have been breached. You will also obey the commands given you by Valencia. She is your commanding officer. She is now a member of the bridge crew, and will represent your interests."

Several started to issue protest, but Mandoss waved them silent.

"I have made my decision. Now go and organize yourselves. I expect you to be setup and functional within twenty-four hours."

Mandoss gave them a look of dismissal, and they began to talk amongst themselves as they departed. Valencia did not move as the others gave her suspicious looks. Norse approached her.

"Did you know you would be made commander?" he asked, watching her closely.

"No! I had no idea." Her voice expressed urgency.

Norse said nothing, and walked away from her. And she felt the rift open between them.

When her people had all left, she turned to Mandoss.

"Why did you make me their commander? I am not the most qualified."

"We have our reasons," he said.

The female, Linwolse, spoke next. "Go to them, Valencia. Let them make the decisions. Only if they cannot come to an agreement on some issue, should you step in and make the decision for them. Let them see you as a figurehead, someone who represents their best interests. In time they will come to accept you as a commanding officer, and respect you."

There was something different about this female. Valencia could not put a label on it, but there was something less hard, less ungiving about her, as if she was expressing concern for Valencia herself. She decided that she must get to know Linwolse better.

Valencia was with her people in the conference room on the same level as the crew quarters, just one level below the officer's quarters. The remaining genoclones had been rounded up, and their number totaled one-hundred and fifty-six. She stayed out of things as much as possible, letting the team leaders handle the details of their organization. Occasionally Norse, or one of the others, would ask her if a certain decision was acceptable, and she would always say yes. For the first time in her life, she felt uncomfortable--ostracized--around her own kind. It was understandable--they did not know if they could trust her. She would have thought that at least Norse would be understanding. But he treated her the same as the others. The sense of loneliness she felt was crushing, and several times she felt tears come to her eyes. She wanted to crawl away and hide somewhere.

The communicator attached to her belt beeped. She hit the Talk button and spoke.

"Valencia."

"Come to the bridge, now. We have a problem." It was Mandoss' voice.

"On my way," she responded.

She could feel the eyes of her people following her as she walked out of the room, and by the time she was in the corridor, she was crying. She was glad to get away from them.

She entered the bridge. Mandoss stood on the command level. The pilot was at his station, and a female she had not seen before occupied the communications console.

Mandoss looked up at her. "We are being followed." He indicated the holographic display. Valencia felt her heart leap when she saw the Rising Star floating above the projection grid. She went and stood by Mandoss' side.

"It's a transport ship," she said.

"We know that. But who are they, and what do they want? She refuses to answer our hail."

"We call her the Rising Star. She belongs to the Covenant of Tribes."

"What does she want?"

"The Forever, of course. It was our plan to populate the artificial Earth with the peoples of the Covenant. She does not answer your hail because you have not given her the correct response."

"Then you hail her. And tell her to turn back."

"Why? You do not need the facility. Why shouldn't my people be allowed to inhabit it? There are many technicians and scientists aboard her. They could be a tremendous resource for you."

"We do not need their services. Nor can we risk having that great a number of your people aboard the Forever. Tell her to turn back, or we will be forced to destroy her."

"You would destroy her? There are twenty-five thousand lives on that ship--my people! Can you really be that cold hearted?" Valencia already knew the answer, but she had to say it anyway.

Mandoss turned to face her. He was an imposing figure, despite the fact that she was half a head taller than he. "I do not want to kill your people, Valencia. But I will do whatever I have to do. The Forever is being refitted with a new drive. Until that process is completed, we plan to locate ourselves near a large asteroid in hiding. If another ship is tailing us, we will be more easily spotted. I hope you can understand my position."

"I understand," Valencia said. "But you must understand that they will not be easily turned away. If you destroy them, those under my command will rebel."

"Then they will be destroyed also. It seems, Valencia, that the survival of your people depends on your ability to convince them to turn back."

Valencia wished more than anything that she was not in the middle of this. She was just a scientist and civil servant to her people. She was not a leader, a decision maker--she had not been designed for that, was not prepared. But she was here nonetheless.

"I will try," she said.

"I would suggest that you do better than try," Mandoss said. "Eletel, open a hailing channel. Valencia, stand within the circle so they may see you."

She stood in the transmission circle and waited.

"Now," Eletel said.

Valencia began to speak, trying to keep the trembling out of her voice. "This is the Forever hailing. The Rising Star Shines Forever."

The image of a man appeared on the fore screen and looked at her, confused.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I am Valencia of the Astraea. I speak on behave of those of us aboard the Forever."

"You are not a team leader."

"I have been placed in command of all teams."

"And who decided this?" he said. His doubt of her was obvious.

"Those that have the Forever."

"Who has the Forever?"

She looked at Mandoss and he shook his head.

"That does not matter now. What matters is that you are in danger. Those that have the Forever will not give her up, and they will not let you board her. They have instructed me to tell you that if you do not turn back, you will be destroyed."

The man stared at her in consternation. "Valencia of the Astraea, you are a traitor!"

She ignored his accusation, and continued. "Those that have the Forever, have agreed to allow us to fulfill our goals in exchange for our services as crew members. If we had refused we would have been killed. We had no choice. But at least we will be allowed to seed the galaxy with our own kind. It is a compromise solution. The only alternative was death. And now that is the decision you must make. Turn back and live, or choose death."

"Why didn't you try to overcome them? Surely if they are not of the Covenant--"

"Do you think we did not consider that?" she asked, angrily. "They are not humans, and they are not genoclones. They have powers that go beyond anything we have seen before. We did the best we could. For your own sake, and ours, please believe me."

The man killed his audio and conversed with someone off screen. He then turned back to her. "We will discuss the matter and get back to you. Rising Star out."

"No, wait!" she cried, but it was too late. The screen went blank. "Please hail them again."

The female Mandoss had called Eletel did not respond.

"Let them have their discussion," Mandoss said.

"I told you they would be difficult."

"I expected no less. What are their defensive capabilities?"

"They have proton torpedoes and nuclear missiles. But they will not fire upon the Forever!"

"How are they shielded?"

"Torsion field deflectors, the same as the Forever."

"Then we shall fire upon them."

"No! Please, give them time. I can convince them--"

"Calm yourself, Valencia. They will just be warning shots. She will be hit, but just enough to shake her up, not hurt her." He turned to the pilot. "Fire aft torpedoes at ten second intervals. Give them twenty hits, and we will see how she responds."

"Target set, and firing first torpedo," the pilot said.

It would take thirty seconds for the torpedo to reach the Rising Star. Valencia watched the holograph. She thought the anticipation would kill her. When the torpedo hit, the projection quivered as the holographic transmission was disrupted. It then settled and the image returned to normal.

"See," Mandoss said. "She is not harmed."

The image quivered again when the second torpedo hit, and then the third . . . The velocity of the two ships was too fast for the Rising Star to adjust her course quickly enough to avoid the impacts. She was hit twenty times, but did not appear to be seriously damaged. Valencia knew that the Rising Star's inertial inhibiters might not prevent internal damage and likely loss of lives. The image of the Rising Star was rocking slightly, indicating that she was having some difficulty maintaining stability.

"We are being hailed," Eletel said.

"Answer their hail," Mandoss said, looking at Valencia.

"Channel open," Eletel reported.

It was a different man that appeared on the fore screen. She recognized him as Aneurin, one of the authors of the Covenant of Tribes, and the provisional Director. Valencia had met him at the convention on Mars three years ago when the Covenant had been ratified. He was one of the original genoclones. She guessed his age to be in the early fifties.

"Valencia, why do you fire upon us?" he asked.

"It is not I that fires upon you, Aneurin. It is those who have the Forever that attempts to warn you away. Are you damaged?"

"Minor damage. The reports are still coming in. Some lives have been lost."

"I am sorry. I wish I could have prevented this. But I have no power here."

"Who has taken the Forever?"

She looked at Mandoss, and this time he gave her approval.

"They call themselves Enonians. They are extraterrestrials."

"You say that as if you believe it."

"From what I've seen, I have to believe it."

"Where are they from, Valencia? What do they want?"

"That information has not been provided to me."

Aneurin frowned in thought. "May I speak with them?"

She looked at Mandoss. "They do not wish to communicate with you. Aneurin, if you do not turn the Rising Star back, they will destroy you. I have seen them kill. They are ruthless and determined--"

"Valencia, you know how important the Forever is to our cause. The future of our kind depends on her. We cannot just give up so easily--"

"You are no match for the Forever! Or the Enonians! I implore you. Turn back and save your lives."

Mandoss spoke. "Tell them they have ten minutes to comply."

Valencia felt tears come to her eyes and flow down her cheeks. "Did you hear that, Aneurin? You have ten minutes. Please, I have family and friends aboard the Rising Star. I don't want them to die--I don't want anyone to die! Turn back now!"

Eletel closed the channel.

"Why did you cut me off?" Valencia asked, angrily.

"For effect," Mandoss said.

She stared at him, and felt her fear of him turn to hatred. He was a cold, immoral, unfeeling creature that would sacrifice the lives of thousands with no more remorse than she would feel swatting a housefly. He seemed to not notice her stare--he simply watched the holographic image of the Rising Star without showing any emotion. She returned her gaze to the image. The ship continued to rock slightly.

She spoke. "They are having difficulty stabilizing her. They will not be able to alter her course until they regain stability."

"It is a ruse," Mandoss said. "She is not damaged."

"How can you know that? Can you read their minds at this distance? You hit her twenty times! There's bound to be internal damage."

"She will withdraw," Mandoss responded with confidence.

The next several minutes were the longest Valencia had ever experienced. The ship holding her past--her life--was not able to slow its pitching. She looked over the shoulder of the female, Eletel, and could see from the com display that the Forever was being hailed. But the female did not respond, nor did Mandoss instruct her to. Time seemed to be running out too fast, despite the contradictory sense of time moving so slowly. Valencia was filled with such intense anticipation, that when the holographic image flickered on and off and then disappeared, she felt herself jerk.

"What happened?" she asked.

"They are falling back," Eletel said--to Mandoss.

"Good. Your people are wise, Valencia. So long as they keep enough distance from us, so as not to guide the Earth warships to us, they will not be harmed."

"They will try to keep track of you," Valencia said. She fretted over saying this, but then decided it would be best if Mandoss was not surprised when they were discovered.

"I expect that. Their presence will mislead the warships. As soon as we find a suitable rock to camouflage the Forever, your Rising Star and the warships can chase each other's shadow. The WG will assume she is responsible for taking the Forever."

Valencia's anger overcame her fear. "You use other living creatures for your own purposes! Other lifeforms have lives to live--have a right to that life. Yet you exploit them to serve your own needs without thought or consideration for what they may feel. You are an amoral, unthinking, despicable being that will rot in your own evil wickedness."

She saw a flash of anger cross Mandoss' face--felt her mind touched, briefly--and flinched in returning fear.

"You know nothing of me, human! You have not seen what I have seen, or experienced what I have experienced. You cannot know or understand what processes are at work within my mind. And you cannot judge that for which you are not equipped!"

She thought she saw his eyes start to turn red and then darken--but it could have been her imagination, her fear. And now was certainly not the time to explain that she was not human.

"Permission to leave the bridge?" she requested.

"Granted!" he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

Valencia turned to the female. "Can you tell me where to find Linwolse?"

"Officer's quarters, apartment thirty-six," Eletel answered.

"Thank you."

The door opened. Hauser stood in the doorway holding a blaster.

"Valencia. Come on in," he said.

She had not expected to find Hauser here. She had come to speak with Linwolse, and did not want to deal with Hauser. He was a mystery yet to be solved, but that was not on her mind now. She followed Hauser into the apartment.

"Is Linwolse here?"

"Yes," he said. "Lin, you have a visitor."

Linwolse was sitting at a terminal. She looked up.

"Valencia. Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was hoping to speak with you in private," Valencia said.

Linwolse looked at Hauser. He spoke. "Ah, I'm being kicked out," he said with light humor. "Well, I've been meaning to visit Artemus and check on his progress. So I'll see the two of you later." He checked the charge on his blaster, secured it in the holster, and exited the apartment.

"Please sit," Linwolse said.

They sat in the main room, across from each other. Valencia perused the alien female. The females looked so much alike, yet were somehow different. They radiated distinct personalities with just their presence. They did not have to do or say anything, and there was no doubt which one was which. She was not sure what mechanism was at work here, but she did know she was not reading their minds.

"The Rising Star has turned back," Valencia said. This was not what she wanted to talk about. But she did not know how to begin.

"I know. Forrest and I were monitoring bridge activities from here. You are troubled, Valencia."

"You can read that in my mind?"

"I do not have to read your mind, Valencia. I can see it in your posture, your expression, and the tone of your voice. Do not think that we will be constantly extracting information out of your head. That is not something we do naturally, and it is only done when absolutely essential. It is considered an invasion of privacy, otherwise."

"You respect my privacy?"

"Yes, of course. You have been made an officer of the bridge. You will be afforded the same respect we have for one another. Your mind will be probed occasionally, as you adapt to your new circumstances, and until we learn to trust you. Eventually, you will find that we will not breach your privacy. Your mind is your sanctuary. It is a private place that belongs only to you. No one else has the right to invade your mind, unless you invite them in."

Valencia studied her, considered her words. "I angered Mandoss. I said things I should not have said. But I was angry. I fear him."

Linwolse smiled at her. "I heard. And you did anger him. But do not fear him. Although he seems not to be concerned about what you are going through, he is aware that recent events have you troubled. He understands, and will not hold your outburst against you. One thing you will learn about Mandoss, is that he respects challenge. He expects his officers to be strong, and to challenge him if they disagree. He will respect you if you are willing to offer your opposing opinions. If you cower before him like a whipped dog, he will not respect you."

"But he does require discipline."

"Yes. He commands this operation, and military discipline is necessary. He will not always be able to listen to opposing views, when time is short."

Valencia thought for several seconds. "Linwolse, when you spoke to me earlier--when Mandoss assigned me commander of my people--you seemed different from the others. You gave me advice, and you seemed to be concerned about me. That is why I have come to you. I am operating in the dark. I don't know who you are, or what you are. And I don't know why you have taken the Forever. I don't know why any of this is happening, and I need to know. I have to tell my people something."

"Of course. I will try to answer your questions--but you will find some of what I say difficult to believe."

"I have already seen things I would not have believed possible."

Linwolse seemed to be organizing her thoughts, and then she continued. "We come from the star system you know as Tau Ceti, about twelve lightyears from Earth. We are indigenous to the system, having evolved on its fourth planet. Our civilization is very much older than the one that began on Earth--approximately one-million solar years older . . ."

Linwolse told her the story of the Great War between the Enonians and Pascanians, and the events that led to the Enonian exile on Earth. She told her of their immortality--the keepers--and the one-hundred-thousand years they had been waiting for the Forever to be built. And she told her of the blood lust, and the transitioning of Forrest Hauser.

When she was finished, Valencia sat in silence and gazed at Linwolse. She did not know what she had expected to hear, but what she learned was more than she was prepared for. She had more questions than she knew how to formulate. There was one thing that bothered her, though.

"Linwolse, don't you think it odd that two independent forms of life so similar should evolve in star systems so close together? That such would occur is so improbable that it is virtually impossible."

"Yes, I agree. When my species first began venturing into space, your star was one of the first places we visited. My ancestors were quite astounded when Earth was discovered to bear lifeforms, including anthropoidal life, so biologically similar to our own. Our notions of probability were brought to task, but in the end it was decided that only one explanation could exist."

"And that is?"

"That both Tau Ceti and the Solar System must have been seeded by another space faring civilization billions of years ago."

"You are saying that terrestrials and Enonians have a common origin?"

"In a biochemical sense, yes. Both Earth and Enonia were rich in the materials needed to produce a DNA based life, and the conditions were similar. If someone was to give each planet a push in the same direction, then similar life might evolve."

"But it is still quite a coincidence," Valencia said. "I mean, the variety of forms that can evolve is tremendous. And even with the same push, it is not likely the two planets would have developed bipedal life so nearly identical. But yet here we sit."

"Most Enonians believe it was planned. Both our species have religious beliefs that speak of a creator that made us in His or Her own image. Perhaps these religious thinkers were in some way sensing the true nature of our origins. But whether our existence is the result of supernatural or technological manipulation, that Earth and Enonia independently evolved nearly identical intelligent life, clearly indicates preplanning. Our planets were programmed to produce us. And we are made in the image of our creators, whoever they might be."

"There must be clues."

"Clues?" Linwolse asked.

"Clues in the genetic sequences, perhaps. Clues that would lead us to the creators."

"No, I don't think so. The creators have hidden themselves quite well."

"In my tribe, I was designed and trained to be a geneticist. That is--well, you know about genoclonic reproduction. We have identified and understand enough of the sequences to produce healthy, superior children. But the research continues. We do not know everything. And we have only been looking for advantageous traits--not for signs of a creator."

"You will find no such signs," Linwolse said.

"How can you say that?" Valencia asked, frustrated.

"Enonians began their experiments in genetic engineering nearly a million years ago. We used selective breeding, genetic alterations, and what you call genoclonic reproduction to advance the species--just as you are doing now. When the life on Earth was discovered and the theory of a creator developed, we searched for signs of the creator in our genetic code. None was found. After a million years of searching, no signs, coded messages, or anything that would give us a clue about the creators has been discovered. It seems that the creators intend not to be discovered."

Valencia felt disappointment at this news, but she knew she would have a look anyway.

"Why would they do that?"

"That is unknown. The creators, if they exist, are a mystery that may never be solved."

"Well, we do know one thing--we know what they look like!"

Linwolse laughed. "Yes, if our theory is true, we do know that much."

Valencia joined her in laughter. She liked Linwolse. She was open, honest and helpful. She seemed to radiate a sense of concern for those around her, as if that was her purpose in life. And now that she understood who and what the Enonians were, she did not feel as intimidated by them. And their knowledge of genetics could prove very useful in her research. She wondered if they would allow her to sample their genetic material--

"I just thought of something!" Valencia blurted.

"What is that?"

"You said that when you were exiled on Earth, most of you transitioned to mortality and interbred with the humans."

"That is correct."

"So there are Enonian genes mixed with human genes in the current pool. And those genes will tend to have traits superior to human genes. And since my people were created from the selection of those genetic traits considered superior, we must have been selecting Enonian genes, and--"

"You have been converting yourselves to Enonians," Linwolse finished for her.

"Yes! Exactly."

"One of the traits given to us by the keepers was the ability to sense the emotions and thoughts of our human prey. The keepers needed human blood. Giving us telepathic abilities gave us an advantage. And it is this ability that you have inherited."

Valencia was astonished. When the telepathic ability manifested in her, and to a lessor extent in some others, no one knew why. They did not even have a working theory. Any now an explanation had just been handed to her.

She stood. "I have many more questions. But I must go and speak with my people. I have much to tell them. Thank you, Linwolse. You have been very generous."

She went to the door and Linwolse followed.

"Tell me, Linwolse. What is it like to be immortal?"

Linwolse gave her a warm smile." I have lived a hundred-thousand years. Yet, I still do not know the answer to your question."

Valencia returned her smile, and exited the apartment. In the corridor, she headed for the speedlift. Despite her positive impression of Linwolse, she was not foolish enough to trust her--not completely. She was not sure if the commonality between genoclones and Enonians would impress her people. But at least she had something to work with. And this was more than she had before.

She entered the speedlift and waited anxiously as it dropped to the crew level.

She had much to do.