ly closer they looked up at
him amazed, not understanding. He landed on the ledge but remained at
his distance, regarding them quietly. He addressed them, no longer
needing to touch. His strange eyes shone and he did not move, as if
overwhelmed from within. He spoke to their minds.

"My time has come. Summon the others."

They could not understand, but obeyed, dispersing to summon their
queen, and all others that lived within the span of their own.

*

The sun tipped the horizon and dust was gathering and still the long
files of mai continued to stream down. Already the central basin was
nearly filled, and pushing back toward the statued spires of the west
wall. The moving shapes were dark in the lengthening shadows, and all
looked up at him, perched silently atop the Carrier Stone. The first
circle of seven queens, not touching, seemed to understand, as did the
drones behind them. All others knew only that another Outsider had
been killed. Waited patiently for the joining.

As the darkness deepened and the last movement ceased, all joined and
were silent. The queens approached the Stone, the giver of life, and
touched it.

From out of its crumpled iron surface arose a faint hum, the remainder
of its strength. All lives were now fused, and the queens sent out
their messages. Joined forelegs and antennae, bent all their thought
toward Simin, so that now he probed the memory not with one mind but
with many. And stimulated by the Carrier, its greatness began to come
forth.

Slowly the streams of Shannon's life broke free and flowed in a gentle
murmur through all, paced and given substance by the queens and drones.
And slowly they took shape into music, a long, rhythmic chant. Then
with gathering strength as a river fed by many tributaries, rose into
song that filled all the valley, and echoed in the hearts of ten
thousand mai. From birth to death, the long struggles of his life were
played out, rising and falling like the seasons of the wind. Again and
yet again he did battle, with hope or without it. The song grew within
Simin, overpowering, so stark and beautiful that he thought he must
die, but knew he could not yet.

Then all again was hushed, and stiffly the drone-that-was raised
himself up. A voice rose out of his soul, but it was no longer his: a
pulsing, soft white glow hovered in the air above him.

"They have called me a mercenary, but it is not so. I am a warrior.
For be it my