Suddenly a hot glow blossomed off to one side of the bridge, burning through the bulkhead plates like a laser hit. I tried to call out a warning to the bridge crew but my voice would not work. The glow grew brighter, larger. I thought the ship’s shields had been broken through; in another instant the hull would be ripped open to vacuum.

None of the reptilians noticed a thing. Behind their lenses and cyborg jacks they remained intent on the battle. The glow turned golden, too bright to look at, yet I could not turn my eyes from it. Tears began to blur my vision as the glow dimmed slightly and resolved itself to the human form of Aten, the Golden One.

“Tears of joy, Orion, at seeing your creator once again?” he mocked.

He looked calmly magnificent in the midst of that terribly tense, inhumanly quiet bridge. He wore a splendid high-collared uniform of dazzling white, with gold piping and sunburst insignia on his chest. His thick mane of golden hair glowed magnificently; his cruelly handsome face was set in a cold smile.

“Or perhaps you feel frustrated at not being able to view the battle,” he said.

All at once I could see in my mind a planet nearby, and dozens of spacecraft swarming toward it. Defending craft were rising through its atmosphere, firing lasers and missiles as they approached our fleet. Three of their ships exploded soundlessly, vivid red blossoms of destruction against the planet’s blue ocean.

“The battle goes well,” the Golden One said.

The ship shook again from another blast, nearly knocking me off my feet.

“So I see,” I replied dryly.

Aten arched a golden brow. “Humor, Orion? Irony? My creature is expanding his repertoire of behaviors.”

“Where is Anya?” I asked.

His expression turned more thoughtful. “Far from here.”

“I want to see her.”

“Not now. You have an important task to accomplish.”