Alternate Realities by C. J. Cherryh

until it became a shriek. We all jerked from the last notes, put our hands over our ears: it was that kind of sound. And it rumbled back down again—softer—someone had gotten the volume adjusted—and kept rumbling, slow, slow ticks.
    “Not human,” Griffin said. “Not anything like it. But then what did we expect? Send. Answer in their pattern. See if it changes.”
    Hands moved on the boards.
    “Nothing,” Percy said.
    Then the com stopped, dead silent.
    “Did you cut it?” Griffin asked, ready to be angry.
    “It’s gone,” Modred said. “No pickup now. We’re still sending.”
    The silence continued, eerie after the noise. The ventilation fans seemed loud.
    “Kill our signal,” Griffin said.
    Percy moved his hand on the board, and the whole crew sat still then, with their backs to us, no one moving. I felt Lance’s hand tighten on mine and I held hard on to his. We were all scared. We stood there a long time waiting for something ... anything.
    Dela unclasped her arms and turned, flinging them wide in a desperately cheerful gesture. “Well,” she said, “they’re thinking it over, aren’t they? I think we ought to go back down and finish off the drinks.”
    Her cheer fell flat on the air. “You go on back,” Griffin said.
    “What more can you do here? It’s their move, isn’t it? There’s no sense all of us standing around up here. Gawain and Modred can keep watch on it. Come on. I want a drink, Griffin.”
    He looked at her, and he was scared too, was master Griffin. Dela had let him give us orders, and now whatever-it-was knew about us in here. I felt sick at my stomach and probably the rest of us did. Griffin didn’t move; and Dela came close to him, which made me tense; and Lance—Griffin might hit her; he had hit me when he was afraid. But she slipped her white arm into his and tugged at him and got him moving, off the bridge. He looked back once. Maybe he sensed our distress with him. But he went with her. Percy and Lynette got up from their places and Lance and Viv and I trailed first after Griffin and my lady, getting them back to the dining hall.
    They sat down and drank. We had no invitation, and we cleaned up around them, even Lynette and Vivien, ordinarily above such things, while my lady made a few jokes about what had happened and tried to lighten things. Griffin smiled, but the humor overall was very thin.
    “Let’s go to bed,” my lady suggested finally. “That’s the way to take our minds off things.”
    Griffin thought it over a moment, finally nodded and took her hand.
    “The wine,” Dela said. “Bring that.”
    Viv and I brought it, while Lance took the dishes down and Percy and Lynn went elsewhere. My lady and Griffin went to the sitting room to drink, but I went in to turn down the bed, and then collected Vivien and left. We were free to go, because my lady was not as formal with us as she had us be with her guests. Whenever she left us standing unnoticed, that meant go.
    Especially when she had a man with her. And especially now, I thought. Especially now.
    We went back to our quarters, where Lynn and Percy and Lance had gathered, all sitting silent, Lynn and Percy at a game, Lance watching the moves. There was no cheer there.
    “Go a round?” I asked Lance. He shook his head, content to watch. I looked at Vivien, who was doing off her clothes and putting them away. No interest there either. I went to the locker and undressed and put on a robe for comfort, and came and sat by Lance, watching Lynn and Percy play. Viv sat down and read—we did have books, of our own type, for idle moments, something to do with the hands and minds, but they were all dull, tame things compared to the tapes, and they were homilies which were supposed to play off our psych-sets and make us feel good. Me, I felt bored with them, and hollow when I read them.
    We would live. That change in our fortunes still rose up and jolted me from time to time. No more thought of being put down, no