They had no way of knowing that they'd been right to be alarmed, because the docking module was even at that moment transmitting a distress signal, reporting the damage it had suffered and urgently requesting a repair team.

     There were no repair teams any longer, but the defence grid picked up the distress signal and noted that the damage had been suffered by the module into which it had seen the Mantric ship enter shortly before. One of the very few modules that still had a functional power source.

     The defence grid felt no emotion as it responded according to its programming. The situation it was now faced with, the failure of the command grid to respond to its enquiries, the failure of all repair and police units, the almost total loss of power across the ring and planet below, were all indicative of a massive attack and invasion by enemy forces, from which widespread damage had already been caused.

     Anything that failed to respond to its hails were therefore labeled as enemies, and that included the Mantric ship. It would have to wait until it emerged from the docking module, but then they would see whether it shared the alien ship's immunity to missiles.

☆☆☆

     It would have taken weeks to explore the whole block, which was well over a mile across and almost as large in its other dimensions, so they stayed in the vicinity of the Bescot, being careful not to stray more than a couple of hundred yards from the felisian ship. The arrangement of rooms and corridors was three dimensional again, with entrances and passageways leading off in the up and down directions as well as left and right, and there was a very real danger that they might lose themselves in the maze they formed.

     They found no more bodies, which didn't surprise them as the block clearly hadn't been a habitation area. No-one had lived here. This had been a work area, and whoever had occupied this place when the disaster, whatever it had been, had occurred must have returned home to die with their families. This was a disappointment to Saturn, but at the same time it meant that the place was still in pristine condition. Unchanged from the time, an unknown age ago, when the block had last known life. There might be valuable clues to be found, and the elderly wizard pointed out one artifact after another to be carried back with them until everyone was laden down with dusty, crumbling books and nik naks. Each held fast in its own envelope of preserving crystal.

     Several of the rooms they discovered showed some residual signs of activity. Dimly glowing strips along walls and ceiling that must once have been enough to light the complex as brightly as full daylight. Glass panels in which smaller lights flashed and text wrote itself, usually the same short line of characters over and over again. Saturn's translation spell was still working, but when he tried to read the writing he couldn't make sense of it.

     "Power levels critical," he mumbled in puzzlement. "Solar panels out of alignment. Repair crews to solar panels immediately." Those same lines were repeating over and over again, and for all Saturn knew they might have been doing so for a thousand years. Maybe longer.

     "Look!" cried Thomas however, floating alongside another glass paneled display, and Saturn levitated himself across to see what he'd found. It seemed to be a representation of the harbour, with small pictograms representing the ships they'd seen moored there. Each pictogram had a couple of lines of text beside it as well as a string of numbers, all of which meant absolutely nothing to Saturn despite everything his translation spell could do.

     "These first few characters might, just might, be the name of the ship," he speculated, "but as for the rest..."

     "There's the Bescot," said Matthew, indicating the pictogram that appeared to represent the felisian ship, alongside three identical symbols that had to be the Masters' ships. These three ships were a different colour from the others, though. Yellow rather than green, and the Bescot flashed an angry red.

     "I don't like the look of that," said the soldier. "Red always means danger, in every culture we know of."

     "The Bescot's in danger?" said Thomas anxiously.

     "Or the Bescot is considered to be a source of danger," suggested Timothy, who'd also joined them there. "We may be being treated as invaders."

     "But we haven't made any hostile moves," protested Thomas. "What have we done to..." He fell silent, staring at Saturn fearfully. "Those doors y- we burned through. It set off alarms each time."

     "There was no other way to get through," replied Saturn, his single eye fixing him with a steady glare.

     "Our actions may have led to our being labeled as hostile,” suggested Thomas. “We may have invited an attack. Maybe the skydeath that affected the Jules Verne was an attack."

     "This discussion is pointless," said Saturn, turning away and levitating himself across the large room to another cluster of glowing displays. "We came here to do a job. Let's get on with it."

     They found nothing more of any significance, though, and after another half an hour of fruitless searching Saturn led them back to the Bescot. As luck would have it, Tager Yee and his companions were also just arriving back, and the Tharians saw that they were in a state of high excitement.

     "The ships seem to be fairly recent," the commander said. "Compared to the ring, that is. I would estimate they've been abandoned for no more than a couple of hundred years. They seem to be in good condition. They even have some power left in their cells. They look almost as if we could climb aboard and just fly them out of here."

     "We will come back and collect them," cried another felisian excitedly. "We will almost double the size of our fleet at a stroke, and there may be other ships elsewhere in the ring. Other space harbours like this one. Who knows how many ships there might be here, just waiting for us to come and claim them."

     Saturn was forced to smile. "So this mission turned out to be worthwhile after all."

     "Indeed yes! With this many ships, we will be able to explore the worlds of the sheath many times faster. And we will share everything we find with you, of course. We will find the Shipbuilder civilisation for you, and then you can go home. You will never need to venture out into space again..." He froze in sudden horror, aware he'd said far too much in his excitement.

     Saturn was merely amused, though. "And never bother you again," he finished for him. "You will be secure as the only remaining spacefaring civilisation. Well, and who knows? Maybe that is how it will be. We certainly have no interest in your people, except in the ways you can help us find our enemies, if they still exist."

     The felisian relaxed in relief, but received an angry, warning glance from the commander.

     "I'd like to visit another of the smaller blocks now," said the wizard as they filed back aboard the Bescot. "I need any information they may contain regarding other civilisations in this system. Civilisations that used magic rather than natural philosophy. We've found a fair number of their books already, which may prove to contain reference to magic, wizards and so on when we examine them, but the more we find the better chance we have of finding something useful. I'd like to find the local equivalent of a library or a museum. Something like that."

     "A map of the ring system, showing the location of public facilities," suggested the felisian commander.

     The wizard agreed. "There must be such a thing around somewhere, in fact I'd expect every block to have one, for the use of its inhabitants. I don't understand why we haven't found one already."

     "Did you discover any clue to what killed the inhabitants? The nature of the disaster that overcame these people?"

     Saturn merely shook his head. "To tell the truth, I'm not really interested," he said. "They're dead, and so of no importance to anyone except some grey haired sages. The only thing I want to know is, is this the world of the Shipbuilders?"

     Arriving back aboard their ship, they spent a few moments wondering how they were supposed to undock themselves from the pier. The problem was solved when Saturn suggested that the ship apply a little thrust. More alarms wailed inside the block as the latching mechanisms felt the strain, but then failsafe mechanisms came into operation and explosive bolts fired in the docking ring. There was a lurch as the Bescot's airlock was suddenly released, and the felisians had to apply braking thrust before the ship hit the harbour's opposite wall.

     "Look at that!" cried one of the felisians, staring into the viewscreen, and Thomas looked to see a cloud of glittering metal fragments sparkling in the Bescot's searchlights. "We damaged it pulling away," the felisian added regretfully. "We probably won't be able to dock there again."

     "There's plenty of other piers," said Saturn distractedly. He left the prow of the ship and went back to where the Tharians were carefully stowing away their second collection of relics and artifacts. He selected a small book, about the size of a diary, and cast another spell that split the crystal preserving it into thin sheets, each containing a single page. He turned the pages over and over in his hands, looking for something to catch his eye.

     The Bescot moved slowly and carefully towards the harbour doors, past the strange and enigmatic graveyard of ships, and Thomas breathed a sigh of relief as they emerged from the harbour, back into clean, open space. Saturn told the felisians to pick a smaller block at random for their next visit, he didn't care which, and so Tager Yee selected the next block over. A mere couple of hundred yards away. It was similar to the first block they'd entered, but at the same time different in that it had bright yellow markings across it.

     "Maybe that signifies that this block was important in some way," the felisian said. "Only one way to find out..."

     He was shaken out of his thoughts by a loud piercing wail that filled the ship, startling everyone and making Saturn drop the crystal preserved pages of his book, sending them spinning through the air in all directions.

     "What in the name of..." began Drenn, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword.

     "What is the meaning of this?" demanded Saturn, levitating himself forward once more to confront the felisian commander. "What is that noise?"

     "I don't know!" cried back Tager Yee above the din. "Some kind of warning, I think."

     "Then what's it warning us of?" demanded Saturn. He saw that lines of text were appearing on a section of smooth bulkhead, big angry red letters, but his translation spell had expired and he had to give his brain a chance to rest before he could cast it again or risk possible permanent side effects. "Gown!" he bellowed. "Get up here and read this."

     Fortunately, Thomas had had long enough to recover from his first casting of the spell that morning, so he kicked himself upwards and was caught by the elbow by the elder wizard as he drew level. Thomas hurriedly cast his the spell and gasped in alarm as the text became legible to him. "Collision warning!" he gasped. "There's something on its way to hit us!"

     Saturn cursed under his breath. "Missiles!" he swore. "Commander, get us back in the harbour, quick! They were waiting for us to come out. Waiting for us."

     "No time!" cried Thomas, however, jabbing a finger at the warning text. "This says we've only got twenty seconds! Nineteen, eighteen..."

     Saturn cursed again. "We have to teleport out," he said. "Everyone, gather together. Take the hand of the man beside you."

     "Teleport?" cried Thomas in horror. "Where? The Jules Verne's gone!"

     "Down to the planet," replied Saturn. "There's too many of us for me to take all by myself. You take that group beside you. I'll take the rest."

     Thomas looked around, saw Matthew and his men with Drenn and Parcellius. Timothy wanted to join him, but one of the felisians had a firm grip on him by the forearm. He'd be going with Saturn's group.

     "But we can't teleport blind!" Thomas protested. "We don't know anything about the planet surface!"

     "No time to argue," replied Saturn. "Teleport down, or stay and die." He checked to make sure his group were all linked in a chain by their hands, then spoke a word. They all vanished, leaving Thomas's group alone aboard the Bescot.

     Thomas looked up at the viewscreen and saw what the bridge crew of the Jules Verne had seen shortly before the first attack. A small, slowly moving dark spot surrounded by a halo of brilliant fire, growing visibly larger as it approached. He looked back at the text on the wall, and saw that the countdown was down to single figures. Five, four, three...

     "For the sake of the Gods!" cried Matthew urgently, his eyes also on the viewscreen and the rapidly approaching death it contained. "Tom! Get us out of here! Now!"

     Thomas nodded and spoke the words.

☆☆☆

     A second later, the first of the two missiles hit the Bescot. The felisian ship was torn almost in half by the explosion, and fragments of spinning, red hot metal flew at great speed in all directions, some of them to hit the harbour block hard enough to penetrate the outer hull and cause damage that would never be repaired. Other fragments hit the smaller block they'd been on their way to visit, including a section of hull ten feet long that speared the habitation module like an arrow through a rabbit.

     Another fragment of metal hit and severed one of the tether cables which, being under great tension, whipped back and tore a gash in the side of a third block, releasing a cloud of dust and small personal items in the explosive decompression.

     A moment later, the second missile hit the forward half of the stricken Bescot, exploding it into a million fragments. Some of these also hit some of the nearby blocks, causing more damage, while others went into orbit around the planet, passing in and out of the ring system, to cause more impacts in the months and years to come.

     By chance, though, the largely intact rear half of the felisian ship drifted out of the ring system without hitting anything and burned up in the planet's atmosphere a few weeks later, briefly lighting up the sky and crashing into the sea a couple of hundred miles away from the ruins of one of the largest cities.