It was a simple catnap at work, but even a blink of an eye can open a window to a world. Belden recognized that yet again as he awoke in his bed on the Nole. It was an early hour in the morning, hours before the crew would rise. Of course, in the vastness of space times of day and night were a mere convention. Bowing to tradition and the needs of human biology, the lights on the ship dimmed to reflect the virtual passing into another day. A skeleton crew manned the bridge and a few other critical stations, but he remained in control, subtly aware of the ship, its crew, and the void that embraced it.

Then he sensed something. It was closing in on the ship. It could not be seen or sensed by the ship's instruments. Nonetheless, it was there. It was not a force of nature or a natural thing. In two minutes, it would kill them all. That he knew.

There was no time to alert the crew. Missiles and beam weapons armed as automatically as if he were reactively flexing his muscles. Still in his nightclothes, he ran from his stateroom to the lift. Responding to his mental command, the lift raced upwards to the bridge. The doors opened, and he rushed out to look at the view-screen. It was the same as always, a pitch-black expanse dotted with stars that made the bow seem to open into space.

The chief of the night watch turned to him. "What's going on? Our instruments are lit up like ornaments in a festival. Why is the ship arming itself? There's nothing out there!"

Belden did not respond to or even acknowledge him. He looked to the screen

and raised his right hand.

"Now!! He cried!"

The volley was deafening. In a split second, every weapon on the Nole fired. They were meant for a mark in space a mere fifty kilometers away. It was a mark in empty space.

Then, an explosion. There was no sound; the flash was as brilliant as a hundred suns. In spite of its inertial dampers, the ship nonetheless recoiled violently, tossing the bridge crew to the floor. Sirens and bells sounded across the ship. The lights brightened, and the bridge suddenly became a bustle of confusion and panic.

Weller was among the first to enter. His robe untied, his hair tousled, he looked wide-eyed at the bridge crew, and then his attention turned to Belden. It was then he knew.

He pointed to Belden. "You. Only you could have done this. What were you shooting at? Why didn't you sound a general alarm? And why did you wake me up??"

Belden opened his mouth to speak, but then he realized that he didn't quite know what to say. He sensed a danger, and reacted. It was as automatic as flexing a muscle, although he knew that Weller would never accept that. He could control the ship as effortlessly as waving his hand. But one sometimes doesn’t quite know the source of his reflexes, or their aim. He looked to the floor, unable to answer. " I don't know.' He said.

Weller looked about the ship with exasperation. "You know, I almost figured that. Whether by design or fault, you keep more secrets than you reveal."

He turned about. "Helmsman, what can we pick up? Is there any debris?'

"Yes, he said. "But there is nothing recognizable. He hit that thing as if he were swatting a fly with a flamethrower. Whatever it was, it’s been pulverized into atoms."

Weller turned to Belden. "Are you sure this wasn't a fantasy, a bad dream?"

Flustered, Belden pointed to Weller. "Look! You are the bad dream, and so is your damn universe! There was something out there. It was conscious, malevolent, and it would have destroyed you and your ship if I hadn't moved. And I must add, it would have ended this foolish space odyssey nightmare once and for all."

Weller turned to the view-screen still shimmering from the explosion. "But who?"

From across the bridge, Moore was quick with an answer. "Limerik is the likely candidate. They were our destination, only a day away. They have ships of course, but the motivation?"

"Or even the knowledge." Weller said, unconvinced. He walked to his console, and with the press of a button displayed a rotating 3-D chart of the Limerick solar system.

Moore walked over, seemingly unimpressed. "They are Scotz. Mountain people, independent, and rather warlike. Or at least that's their tradition. They speak a dialect of Transorian that has a rather unique lexicon. Other than that, they are unremarkable."

"A suspect then for our unknown aggressor?"

"Hard to say. They have the means, maybe even the temperament. But the motive? I can't fathom it." He looked at Weller and grinned. "Perhaps we should ask them?"

Both men turned to Belden, who took two steps back and shook his head. "Oh, no! I'm not going down there. Indestructible or not, I do not relish the prospect of those people chasing me about their world, hurling insults and cannon balls at me."

"No, no. I am not thinking of you." Said Weller nonchalantly. "If it's you they're after, you'd cause too much commotion, and succeed only in antagonizing them more. I need reasons, and to get them we have to be subtle. I am thinking about a small party, a single party. One man. We'll send one scout. Smythe is our best path finder. I'll send for him."

Within the hour, Smythe arrived on the bridge. Dressed smartly in dress uniform, he looked the part of a distinguished representative of the Transorian Foundation. "Sir." He said crisply. "I understand that I am assigned the role of emissary to the Scotz."

"Yes, in a fashion." Said Weller. "This is not an ordinary diplomatic mission. You are going alone. I'd don't know what to think of this situation. Frankly, it’s a puzzle to me. We will stay clear of their planet for now, as I won't risk another attack, if indeed there was an attack, and particularly if they were the attackers. You will take a shuttle and visit them directly. Hopefully, you will find that there is nothing behind this. You know the diplomatic protocols. I wish you success. That is all."

Smythe saluted, and departed for the shuttle bay.

Weller motioned to Moore. "Take a walk with me" he said. The men entered the lift. "Deck seven, then freeze door." The lift moved, then stopped. "We should be safe here from eavesdropping." He nervously looked at Moore. "I am concerned" he whispered. "If we find that the Scotz are not behind this, what reason do we have to believe Belden? He is infallible, but he’s human too, or a computer’s estimate of what human is."

"What are you getting at?"

"I mean, if his decision was wrong, then there is a flaw. You see, his decisions can't be wrong. It's more than a fault of temperament, of mere guesswork. It means that we cannot truly trust Belden to guide the ship."

'"But that means you would have to disconnect him."

"Yes."

"You know AI has never been disconnected from a Transorian cruiser before. It controls all of the ships systems."

"True, but if we can disconnect the higher order systems, namely his personality, perhaps we can get home using only his core systems."

Moore looked at him with concern. "That's never been done, and besides, how do you think Belden would react if he knew?"

"The alternative is I believe much worse than whatever Belden would do. Think about it. "We are in deep space with this, this character. What has been his contribution to our expedition so far? Odd opinions, silly guesswork? Is this what a super mind is supposed to look and sound like, a fuzzy head spouting fuzzy logic?"

"But Cronos said we had no choice.

"Damn Cronos! We waited for that thing for centuries. We never needed it, and now we're saddled with an idiot's odyssey!"

Suddenly, a knock on the door. The door opened automatically. It was Belden. "Pardon me gentlemen, but I thought it would be opportune for me to visit with you, or at the very least rescue you from your little box." He laughed. "Oh, I see. You're plotting against me you scoundrels! Well, out the air lock you go!!"

The men were petrified. Moore turned to Weller "Of course! The security camera! He could read our lips!"

Belden seemed startled. "What? I most certainly did not! That would be rude. Oh yes, that’s it! You two really are plotting against me! Well, all power to you. Let me know if I can assist you in your scheme!"

Weller shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea of what you're speaking of!"

Belden wagged his finger like a scolding parent. "Look gentlemen, I am a super computer to you people. But I don’t have to be a Brainiac to know when I’m in trouble. I’m a systems analyst after all, a veteran of bureaucracies large and small. I know when something’s afoot. It's hard enough to accept the premise of super intelligent machine, but when it comes in the guise of an ordinary Joe, I can see how you can find somewhat jarring. But I am here and you have to deal with it. You worry about my control over the ship, but even I am not in control of my fate. Remember, I didn't ask to be brought here."

"Well, to be honest." Said Weller. "We have had moments when it's been difficult to accept you here."

"Nonsense. You want to pull the plug on me. But that's fine! I assure you, I do not have absolute faith in this mission. Think the opposite gentlemen. You're just a bad dream. I tell you I would much prefer to be reduced to a babbling idiot singing nursery songs. It would help my sleep. You don’t know what a distraction it is to worry about your space opera concerns at work. It’s getting harder and harder to get things done. Even my wife thinks I’m even more daft than before."

For a moment Weller was at a loss for words. "I don't know. Perhaps we should wait. We have to see what Smythe reports when he returns, if he returns. And for you Belden, isn't it time for your nap?"

___________

The meeting was hurriedly called. It was in the captain's conference room. Weller was there, along with Moore and a few bridge officers. Belden was wakened for the meeting, and growled as always when called to his odd duties a resident computer in the flesh. There was urgency in Weller's voice as he called the meeting to order.

"Gentlemen." He said. "Our emissary has returned. I thought I would call this meeting now because we may not have time to spare. He made it out of Limerick only by the speed of his legs. His welcome was what we had feared."

The man entered. He was trembling, pitiful figure. His clothes were torn, and his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. He sat down at the conference table and looked blankly ahead.

"Smythe? Your report. Can you speak to us, do you need…"

"No." He interjected. "I can speak. Belden was right. These people are our enemies. They are all indoctrinated in a hatred for us, even their children! I can’t understand it. When they left Transor long ago they did so without enmity. Now, as soon as they heard my voice, they set upon me like a pack of wild animals."

"But what exactly happened?" Asked Weller.

"It was simple, too simple actually. I landed on the outskirts of their capital city. I only asked for directions. I knew I looked and sounded different. I just said we come in peace. The first one was a farmer. He looked at me with hatred, pulled a scythe, and began chasing me. I managed to elude him, and then I met a woman who was selling flowers on the road. I told her as well that we come in peace, but she began screaming for help, and then smashed me on the head with a basket. Others began chasing me, hurling horrible curses. I escaped them by hiding among some trees. Then I asked a little girl who chanced to pass me. I told her we came in peace, but she too looked upon me in hatred and began to scream for help. This repeated itself again and again as I soon began to flee entire parties of these people, screeching for blood. It was only a miracle that I was able to circle back to my ship. I tell you, it was my uniform I am sure. They knew I was from Transor. Their hatred was unquestioned. For some reason Transor is the enemy, to them we must be destroyed."

"That will do." Said Weller, visibly angered. "So this is how they greet us, their own home world! Well, I won’t take any more chances with them. I will keep our distance, and will send a personal video message affirming the fact that we come in peace. I will say no more beyond that. If they do not respond, then we are done with them. I have no interest in engaging these degenerates."

He looked at Belden. "You were right, it was them. Against all logic, we were attacked by our own kin. I can’t understand it, but again like it or not that’s why we have you."

Belden was expressionless, and nodded slowly. He knew that ship was attacked, he knew that there was something malevolent that was searching for him. But the truth was something, somewhere else. He closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.

___________

The Limerick council met in emergency session. The council president heard the reports one by one as the aggrieved parties told their tales. He was angered by what he heard. "So Transor is here?" he growled. "They send one man, make no announcement to us, and for what? To insult us with a declaration of eternal hatred and violence, to greet us with an obscenity? They sneak in, act in a most shameful fashion, and then run away, only to repeat their outrage with others, even an innocent child!"

"Well. we will take the high road. We not engage them, we will not talk to them. If they come to harm us, we will be silent, but we will be prepared. And as for them, we will use their obscenity as a badge and rallying point for our honor, this cry that is such a hated word, this ancient Scotz incantation that curdles the blood: weecuminpeez."