Federations

Their approach had now been sighted, for the avenues as well as the smaller lanes between the individual housing units were filling with figures, faces upturned. Most were racing towards the square in front of the church, or whatever the big building was.

“Early risers . . . ” Helva remarked.

“Early to bed—that power source is limited to the wall, not any electricity—and early to rise, you know,” Niall said in a revoltingly jocular tone of voice. Then he altered to a practical tone, “And there’s just about enough space for you to land in front of that church.”

“So there is. But it’s also full,” she said, for they had arrived at the back end of the building and now that she had swung round, she could see that the plaza was filled with kneeling bodies. No one was working the fields.

“The more you squash the fewer we’ll have to save from the Kolnari,” Niall said.

“Oh, be quiet.”

“It’s over and out to you, Helva love. Sock it to them.”

The devout knelt with upturned faces. She could see their mouths open with dark O’s of surprise. But not fear. At some unseen signal, the kneelers rose and quickly, but without panic, moved back, out of the plaza.

“Be not afraid,” Helva said gently, using her exterior sound system and ignoring the rich chuckle of amusement from Niall.

“They’re not. Maybe you better alter your program, dear heart.”

“I need to speak with you.”

“Why don’t you just hover?”

She made sure she was on interior sound only before she said sharply, “Will you shut up and let me handle this, Niall?”

“Remind them that you saved them from the hellfire of Chloe, dear,” suggested Niall.

“That’s my next line,” she said in a caustic aside. “I am called Helva.”

“Hey, Helva, that’s you they’ve got mounted on that building.”

In her careful vertical descent, she was now level with the spire. Which wasn’t a spire but a replica of her earlier ship-self, vanes and all.

“Well, how’s that for being canonized!” Niall said, but she could hear a note of pride in his voice. “You may be able to pull this off after all, love.”

Rather more shaken by the artifact than she’d ever let him know, she completed her landing. One of the improvements on her ship body was the vertical cabin and a ramp directly to it, rather than the old and inconvenient lift from the stern.

“You even have a reception party of one,” Niall remarked, as a tall figure became visible on the starboard viewers. All around the square the others turned towards that figure, heads bowing in a brief obeisance.

“How else are you called, Ship Helva?” said the tall woman, the hood falling back and revealing the serene face of an older woman.

“Not bad at all,” Niall murmured. “She’d look even better in something feminine.”

Indeed, Helva agreed with him since the woman had the most amazingly attractive face. A pity she had taken up religion instead of a man and a family. The long cassock robe she wore was one of those amorphous affairs, probably woven or pounded out of indigenous fibers and strictly utilitarian.

“I am Ship NH-834, who was once also the JH-834.”

The woman nodded and inclined forward from her waist in a deep bow.

“Bingo!” said Niall.

“We have sent eternal prayers for the repose of the soul of Jennan,” the woman said in a richly melodious voice, and from the onlookers rose a murmur of “Praise ever to his name.”

“His memory is honored,” Helva replied sincerely. “May I ask your name?”

“I am the Helvana,” the woman replied, again with a reverent bow of her head.

“Oh, my God, Helva, you made it to sainthood,” Niall said with complete irreverence and rolled with laughter in the pilot’s chair. “With your own priestess caste system. Wow!”

Somehow his reaction annoyed her so much she almost erased his program. But common sense reasserted itself. If she was indeed some sort of saint to these people, she needed his irreverence more than ever—to keep her balance.

“You lead your people?”

“I am she who has been chosen,” the woman said. “For many decades, we have hoped that you would honor us with your appearance . . . ”

“Once more I come to you with bad tidings,” Helva said quickly before she could be inundated with sanctimonious sentiments or perorations.

“That you have come is enough. What is your bidding, Ship Who Sings?”

“They have you pegged, my dear,” Niall murmured, grinning like an idiot.

“An enemy approaches this planet . . . ah . . . Helvana.” Helva had a bit of trouble getting that name/title out. “I have sent for assistance but it will not arrive in time to prevent the landing, nor the brutality with which these people—they are called the Kolnari—overwhelm an unprotected population.”

A chuckle, rich and throaty, surprised Helva. She also caught smiles from those around the square.