Chapter 12

Relda felt a strong nudge on her shoulder blade.

"It's time," Raylay said. "We need to go to the battle station."

"No can do," Ozla said.

Raylay and Relda rolled their eyes skyward.

"We know you don't want to, but we're counting on you."

Relda stared at all of her daughters, and added, "All of you."

"What she means is there's a Dialorian ship between us and our transport," Klea translated.

Noah tilted her head and shrugged.

"She has a point," she admitted.

Dr. Doyne stood up and raised his arm while his hand flopped forward.

"I know a man," he said. "Etol's great grandson. He runs a transport rental and purchase business. I will contact him."

Relda and Raylay started toward the door.

"That'd be great," Raylay said. "Thank you."

Dr. Doyne pushed his way through the row of seated clones.

"Grant pardon," he said, and the girls scooted their chairs closer to the comps.

He spoke into his wrist implant, using his native tongue. Raylay raised an eyebrow. Relda waved a negative.

"I've got fifteen people in need of transports. Can you do that? It's to protect us, and they're going to save Hunley. Thank you, Ket."

He ended the call and pointed to the door.

"It's the tower with the sphere on top," he told them. "It's the only one. Can't miss it."

Relda walked past her clones and tapped Anthem on the shoulder.

"It's time to go," she said.

Dr. Trak extended the cloak in her direction.

"Might need this," he said.

It was then that Relda became aware of the thin disposable garments. Somewhere her own garments had gone missing. No time for that now. She was grateful for her cloak. She pulled it over her head, fastened the neck piece in place, and pushed her arms through the sleeves.

The time had come.