Quil scratched at his arm idly, then realized that the skin was peeling, revealing a larger scale underneath, the smaller chitinous scales falling away like glitter. The captain could see that the scales had also appeared on his arms and legs, and even some on his neck.
“Are you well, Quil?”
He frowned, and she realized that his voice was a half octave lower than it had been, and oddly sonorous. “Captain, it’s part of the change that comes with the … promotion. All of the rulers of the Queliqot are covered in some amount of scales, both as a protection and a notice. You can’t see it with your human eyes, but these scales are glowing in the infrared and ultraviolet. I’m led to understand that there is even an x-ray reflective segment of them, for certain castes of the Queliqot.”
Captain Spitzer let silence sit for a moment. “Are you well, though? How do you feel about the change? About the future?”
Quil shrugged. “I was fated to die with the Monfareen – that I live still and have some hope of seeing my sister again as I lead the Queliqot through the stars is a great blessing, and I can hardly hope for anything more.”
Captain Spitzer thought quite differently, but she wasn’t going to correct him. He seemed to have found some measure of peace with his station, and she didn’t want to disrupt him from it. She looked at him. “You had mentioned in the hallway that there was a message from the Locus?”
He looked at her, and his human expression drained away. “Quil?”
His voice was deeper still when next he spoke. “I have received word from the Locus that the necessary changes have been made to a number of the nearest ships to Earth, and even as we were transiting from Stjernmark, the ships had begun transiting to Earth on a more direct course.” He looked at the window-screen and smiled. “Their gravitic displacement is such that it more than triples the Argo-class ships that you now have in mothballs. It would seem, too, captain, that by transiting together, and using the latest knowledge as given from the Space Condominium, the Queliqot are going to be able to transit up to thirty lightyears at a stretch, and this is considered to be a short transit.”
Captain Spitzer felt herself balk at the prospect, and for a moment, felt a mote of fear rise in her, worried that the Queliqot would change their stripe and become belligerent, but when she looked at Quil, she knew that the Queliqot would remain as they had been, foragers, and likely strong allies of all members of the Condominium. She could imagine the knowledge that Birko Lundgren could garner from this information, and she hoped that they survived the battle to be able to tell it to him. “When can we expect the Queliqot ships to arrive at Sol?”
Quil’s eyes looked a little glassy for a moment, and then he looked at her, carefully. “They were located near Zeta Lyrae, but will likely pass through Vega, to nadir of Wisingsö before we transit for Earth. Their transit from Vega, I would expect, will be direct. The Locus has not decided their final destination and will notify them and me of it when they are ready to leave Vega. I will not be able to tell you until we arrive in Sol system – but my guess is that the ships will be directed to land somewhere beyond the heliopause, protecting Sol System from the graviton displacement. Only time will tell.”
She looked to Quil. “I wish we’d been more aware of their movements. I fear that the poor souls aboard Wisingsö will take it as an assault by the Plasmoids. I hope they have sense enough not to shoot first.”
Quil looked distracted. “I have warned the Locus. I would believe that they’ll be broadcasting their name and vector from the moment that they appear in the system, to stave off any concern. Each ship in this convoy has a human, a suq caste at the helm.”
Captain Spitzer looked at Quil. “Have you any other message from the Locus?”
The corners of Quil’s mouth twitched toward a grin. “The Locus would say to the Queen-mother of Vanguard, ‘QuisSakra Kiskkiss Quisqa’, which can only be approximated in human terms as ‘Fight well, win, and may your enemies feed your brood.’” He looked at the Captain, his human expression beginning to return.
Captain Spitzer nodded. “I’ll take any well wishes I can get at this point, Quil. Will you be joining us on the bridge? We could use your connection.”
Quil bowed as his Queliqot manners dictated. “Of course, Queen-mother.”
Captain Spitzer smiled. “Captain, or Ellen, would be fine with me, Quil.”
They looked at one another for a moment and Quil began laughing. “I’m sorry. The connection with the Locus is so strong that some of the terminology and, well, mental flavors, are still bleeding through. Sorry about that.”
Captain Spitzer patted his arm. “It’s not a problem. I struggle with some grammar whenever I’m returning to visit my family in the Three Frances. Too much time among a language that isn’t your mother tongue. Happens to everyone.” She keyed the wall panel. “Birgit, have we got the transit planned? Have you had word from Jimmy?”
Birgit’s voice crackled over the speakers. “In the order of your questions, yes, the course is laid, no, I’ve not heard from Jimmy, but Van is jumping up and down on the screen shaking his head in the affirmative, which I guess means that things are going well for Jimmy.”
Captain Spitzer snorted. “I’ll be up to the bridge shortly. We’ll be joined by your brother.”
