“Like a cross,” Caroline explained, “or a crescent moon, or six-pointed star.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah.” With an effort he forbore from asking the Frontrunner of the Culakhan if ham went with it. “Thanks!”

Uroon stepped clear of the circular depression. “Farewell, and take with you no ill thoughts of the Culakhan. You carry no onus from your association with the Shakaleeshva, for you knew not who or what he was. Resume your rudimentary lives as though nothing has happened.”

“Easy for you to say.” Ross gazed past the Frontrunner, to where Jed lay strapped to his bench.

A brief but intense light flared in the chamber and he stumbled. “What was that?”

Uroon barked at two technicians before replying. “The section of atmosphere through which we are currently passing is highly charged. Settings must be adjusted to compensate so that our camouflage remains intact. It can be difficult.”

“I bet. The Gulf’s only halfway through hurricane season.”

Upon which observation the bottom dropped away beneath them. Caroline looked down, wished she hadn’t, and moaned.

They were standing on nothingness approximately two hundred feet above dense, starlit forest. Ross Ed’s last glimpse of the great ship’s interior showed Uroon turning away to yelp at his associates. Having formally bade them farewell, the Frontrunner was no longer interested in the two humans. Or to put it another way, he had satisfied the relevant Code of Conduct.

Still cradling the ovoid, Ross Ed felt himself slowly falling. A gentle pressure exerted itself on every part of his body, firm yet comfortable. As soon as they made contact with the white sandy beach, the pressure evaporated. In front of them marching wavelets crooned to the coconut crabs while behind, inscrutable forest beckoned.

Above, a dark mass of cloud scudded with unnatural speed off to the east before vanishing at last over the horizon.

“Well, at least we’re out of that, safe and sound.” Caroline was pumped with a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

“Yeah. Safe and sound.” Putting down the ovoid, the Texan continued to stare at the point on the horizon where the Culakhan ship had taken its leave.

She put a comforting hand on his arm. “There was nothing else you could do. Don’t worry about Jed. He’ll be fine; he’s dead. Ross, we’re alive and together.” Spreading her arms, she whirled gleefully in small circles. “We’re home!” Sand flew from beneath her feel.

“Back on Earth, yeah, not necessarily home. This doesn’t look like Texas.” He studied the forest’s jagged silhouette. “It’s not this lush near Corpus, or anywhere else in Texas that I know. I suppose it could be Padre Island. A forest reserve, or something.”

At that moment an aural soufflé of screechings and chitterings filled the night air. Initially intimidated by the ominous mass of the Culakhan ship, the forest’s inhabitants now resumed their nocturnal chorus.

“Doesn’t sound like Texas, either.”

Caroline joined him in pondering the raucous woods. “Of course we’re in Texas. Where else would we be?”

As they considered the possibilities a couple of bats flew by overhead. Ross Ed knew that Texas was full of bats, but to the best of his knowledge none of them had four-fool wingspans.

“That settles it.” He looked up and down the beach. “Let’s get off the sand. We’re too exposed out here.” He started toward the coconut palms.

“Wait a minute. What about this?” She nudged the egg shape with a foot.

“What about it?”

“Maybe there’s something useful inside.”

“I thought you said it was just a symbol.” He eyed the Culakhan’s parting gift doubtfully. “I’m sure not hauling it all over creation.”

“Then lei’s at least open it.” She smiled encouragingly. “If nothing else, maybe we can make an omelette.”

“Be my guest.” He was more interested in the unidentifiable forest than the ovoid.

Kneeling, she examined the object gingerly. The surface was firm but giving, like Styrofoam. Drawing a fingernail experimentally along the curve, she was gratified to see a seam appear in its wake. The two halves of the avoid fell apan.

The interior contained not a religious icon, not an oversized yolk, not a bundle of survival gear, but a familiar tripedal shape. Ross Ed jerked around sharply.

“Jed! How in blazes did…?” Automatically he scanned the sky for signs of gigantic alien spacecraft or unnatural clouds.

The artificial larynx conveyed the deceased alien’s sentiments admirably. He was still cocooned in pulsing Culakhan instrumentation.

“My defensive functions may have been disconnected, but my brain’s still working just fine, thank you. During the interrogation I told the Culakhan that you and I had been together long enough to establish a Knes.”

“Say what?” The Texan could only gawk at his motionless friend, whom he had never expected to see again.

“A Knes. It’s a kind of unbreakable bond. I explained that it was vital to your primitive mental health that some way be found of maintaining this bond. When they’re not making complete idiots of themselves, the Culakhan are a very spiritual species. They understood.

“The solution was to construct a kniessen, an artificial bonding reproduction of myself correct down to the smallest detail. It was part of the price of my cooperation. The Culakhan are excellent technicians and the mechaniflow replica they constructed turned out to be a damn good job. The idea was to present it to you upon your departure so that you’d have something to take home and worship.”

“So you’re a mechanism, a device, a reproduction. A dummy.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve had plenty of practice dealing with dummies these past weeks.”

“You treated me like one often enough. Nothing like incorporating personal experience into a performance.”

Ross Ed’s brows creased. “For a mechanical reproduction you’re mighty responsive.”

Something like a subdued laugh emerged from the artificial larynx. “I’m no reproduction, Ross Ed. I’m the genuine article. The real thing. The kniessen is on the Culakhan ship, programmed to respond like me, albeit with a much more limited vocabulary. At the last minute I pulled a switch.”

“But how?” Ross Ed stared at the diminutive alien. “You’re dead, mostly. You can’t move, much less change places with a mannequin.”

“That’s not quite correct, my friend. I can’t move my muscles, but that doesn’t mean I can’t move my body. Just because I cannot send instructions to bundles of meat fibers doesn’t mean I can’t send them anywhere else.

“I insisted that the kniessen portray me exactly as you had last seen me or otherwise your mental stability would suffer. This meant equipping the reproduction with a duplicate set of instrumentation. The Culakhan complied. During the rest period while you were asleep and after the kniessen had been placed nearby, I executed the switch. It was not as difficult as you might imagine.

“Working in teams of two, technicians made periodic checks on us. Though it looks no different from any other survival suit, the one I happen to be wearing represents the pinnacle of Shakaieeshva scientific achievement. Recharged and reenergized, it allowed me to contemplate possibilities of which the Culakhan were unaware. Remember our initial contact in the cave, Ross Ed, and your brief tour of the known universe?”

Ross started at the recollection. ‘their minds. You influenced their thoughts!”

“Indeed I did. In the same way that I affected individual humans from maids to barflies to business travelers, I was able to alter the mental state of two of the Culakhan technicians. Since this particular function is part of my communications instrumentation, they neglected to disconnect it. Still, it was very much a touch-and-go operation. Or think-and-go, if you will.

“While I induced one to ‘adjust’ the on-site recording equipment, I had the other exchange me for the kniessen. I also had her, on my instruments, activate the context-sensitive intuitive response unit which had been included with the reproduction. Though designed to respond to and mollify your primitive emotions, with luck it will fool the Culakhan until they are spatially displaced and well away from your solar system.

“Delicious, is it not? They will be demanding replies and revenge from their own automaton. I wish I could be there to perceive Uroon’s expression when he realizes the deception.”

Again Ross Ed looked heavenward. “What happens then?”

“We need to take certain steps. First, unstrap me from this stupid bench. Take care to leave the attached instrumentation intact so that we can continue to communicate.”

Caroline helped Ross Ed free the alien. With the added gadgetry Jed fit a little more snugly in the battered backpack. A few modules and unrecognizable Culakhan accoutrements now dangled down Ross Ed’s back.

“That’s better,” the Shakaleeshva declared. “We have places to go and beings to see. For a change, my friend, you will have to protect me.”