As Uddumac had rightly said, it might be possible to give humans a false Doge identity by surreptitiously handing them Transit technology. Transit technology, by its nature, was fairly invariant. All the existing Doge Species used essentially the same method. But the subterfuge would only work if humans had already achieved a very high level of Class One civilization. Nobody would believe that human Transit was self-developed if the species was still pulling wagons with draft animals.

“The decision has already been made,” Fludenoc stated, firmly but not belligerently. Again, he pointed to the Doge corpses. “We have no choice now, brothers. Let us make Transit to the human planet. The answer can only be found there.”

There was no further opposition. Fludenoc swiveled to the Pilot.

“Take us there,” he commanded.

The Pilot left the chamber immediately. Fludenoc turned to examine the Medic.

“Do not not mind me,” the Medic immediately trilled. “I am just just a bystander.”

All the Gha, now, barked their humor.

“But are you still interested?” asked Oltomar.

“Oh, yes yes! Very interested interested!”

IV

Not so many days later, after Transit was made, the Medic was still interested. Fascinated, in fact.

“What what in the name of Creation is that that that?”

There was no answer. Everyone in the control chamber was staring at the viewscreen.

Staring at that.

The Pilot finally broke the silence. “I think it’s a boat,” she whispered.

“What is a-a boat?” asked Oltomar. He, also, spoke in a whisper.

“I think she’s right,” muttered Fludenoc. “I saw a hologram of a boat, once. It looked quite a bit like-that. Except that’s a lot bigger. A whole lot bigger.”

“I say it again!” hissed Oltomar. “What in Creation is a boat?”