“You can relax if you want to.” Reed continued to regard the golem-machine warily. “Me, I’ll relax—maybe—when I’m back home in Langley.” He frowned. “Who engineered and built this thing? Where do they come from? Why do they—or at least their machines—speak ancient Hebrew? Hell, are the builders even human? The ship’s AI said the owners are, but nothing about the builders.”

“As to the language,” Zimmer replied, “what I am hearing is a variant of ancient Hebrew that includes numerous untranslatable words, doubtless of recent invention. Many of which I hope to learn. I am sure they are common enough to the civilization that has given rise to this machine. Many are likely to be scientific or astronomical terms. As to your own questions, you can ask them yourself. According to their device, they are here to retake possession of their property, this vessel.”

A thought made Dev turn. The A'jeii were still caucusing uneasily. He gestured in the direction of their former captors. “What happens to them? To the A'jeii, the Olone, and the Kaijank who took this ship?”

“You can inquire as to that as well, if the matter is of interest to you. Meanwhile, why not introduce yourself to the golem, here? Its size and appearance masks a genuine curiosity.”

Dev made a face. “I do not speak Hebrew, ancient or otherwise.”

“Then it is time you learned a little, because it may soon prove very useful.” Zimmer turned back to face the machine, whose slitted, inhuman red eyes peered down at him. “Now repeat after me, Dev.

“Shalom …”

—XI—

The Hebraic automatons flooded onto the ship. Thankfully for Dev and his companions’ peace of mind, the horde of mechanicals that seemed to fill every corridor were far smaller than the behemoth they had initially confronted. Most were no bigger than a toaster while the majority could be held easily in a man’s palm. They scurried about determinedly, each one engaged in a mission of its own whose ultimate purpose the four humans could only imagine.

It was left to Dev to think to ask the ship what was happening. All it did was refuse to answer. Katou-Zimmer tried also, as did her husband, with the same negative results. No matter how they phrased a query, the ship that had previously been comparatively voluble now declined to answer anything. Was it under orders to ignore their requests? Or had its AI been completely reprogrammed? Dev thought to ask that, too. The answer to every question was always the same.

“I am unable to respond to that inquiry at the present time.”

“When will you be able to respond to it?” an exasperated Reed asked. The ship replied promptly, with, “I am unable to respond to that inquiry at the present time.”