There had been a shift in the Pipe-Rilla’s posture, and its voice reflected the change. It was too gabbling and jerky to be understood without translation, and Dominus had cut in to provide computer support.

“Ambassador MacDougal has agreed,” went on the Pipe-Rilla. “B-beginning at once, there will be created a new group within the department of Human System Security. It will be of a form peculiar to human history … a military expedition …. what your species knows as” — there was an infinitesimal pause, while Dominus selected and offered for Pipe-Rilla approval a variety of words — “as an Anabasis.”

“As a what ?” The grunted question from Brachis to Mondrian was nothing like a whisper. “What’s she mean?”

“Anabasis,” said Mondrian softly. “We need to review our translation boxes. I don’t know what she means, but I’ll bet that’s not it — the original Anabasis was a military expedition, one that turned into defeat and retreat. Not a good omen.”

The Pipe-Rilla took no notice of their exchange. She was in serious trouble of her own, limbs moving spastically and her narrow thorax fluttering. “The Anabasis,” she whistled, on a rising note. “It will be headed by Commander Mondrian, who has principal responsibility for the problem, assisted by Commander Brachis. Your t-task will be simple. You will s-select and t-train Pursuit Teams, to find the — location of — the Morgan Construct. You will follow it to — wherever it is hi — ding.” Now even Dominus could not help. The speech pattern of the Pipe-Rilla was becoming more and more disorganized as its voice rose past the range of human ears. It became a great, shivering whistle, matching the shake of the giant body. “Each pursuit team must contain one — trained — member of — each intelligent species. Tinker — Angel — Human — and … and Pipe-Rilla.” The voice became a supersonic shriek. “The Pursuit Teams will find the Morgan Construct and — they will — destroy it. DESTROY IT!”