6
Mok Interior
‘955.01.21 EN
1990
The voice seemed to speak directly into the fissures of Roche’s brain:
___Commander Roche
___has come to us for help
___and to offer us help.
___We have numerous options.
___Which do we choose?
With the words came a blinding light. It felt as though the outriggers were overloading the tolerances of her auditory and optic nerves. But her implants had buffers that should prevent that sort of surge. Somehow the outriggers must have infiltrated the hardwiring of her implants.
The voice repeated its spiel. This time Roche sensed a hidden complexity, a second, more subtle strand underlying the first, somehow mixed up with vivid pulses of light accompanying the sound.
___Commander Roche
/\how do we know she is who she says she is?\/
___has come to us for help
/\or to spy\/
___and to offer us help.
/\how? \/
___We have numerous options.
/\believe her\/
/\don’t trust her\/
/\trust her\/
/\kill her\/
/\send her away\/
/\help her\/
/\help her help us\/
/\help her get away\/
___Which do we choose?
The response wrapped itself around the question like a vine. The more the question was repeated the more complex and tangled the response became. Layer by layer, the argument unfolded:
___Commander Roche
/\1How do we know she is who she says she is?
/\2She has no reason to lie.
/\3or reason to tell us the truth.3\/
Does it matter?
/\3If she’s lying about this, we can’t trust her at all.
/\4But we have no way of knowing.4\/
True.3\/
It’s good to be cautious, but let’s not get out of hand.2\/
Agreed, for now.1\/
She struggled to keep up as the question cycled and recycled, dragging her along with it:
___has come to us for help
/\1More likely to spy.
/\2Who for?2\/
COE Intelligence
/\2She says she doesn’t work for them anymore.
/\33And you believe her?
/\4She says she heard a distress call.
/\5She could be lying about that, too.5\/
We’re going in circles!
/\5No, you are5\/
We must establish a reason for suspicion.
/\5That our lives are under threat isn’t enough?
/\6We are safe here.
/\7Short term only.7\/
Perhaps. 6\/
Perhaps not, if we let Roche in.5\/
Perhaps. 4\/
Perhaps.3\/
We need to make a decision!2\/
But the right one.1\/
___and to offer us help.
/\1How?
/\2Ask her.
/\3Again: why should we believe her?\/
/\2What have we got to lose if we do?
/\3Our lives
/\4We’ll die if she doesn’t help us!4\/
/\3We have only her word on that.
/\4But we are trapped here.4\/
Undeniably.3\/
So we can at least agree to give her a chance?2\/
That’s what we are doing!1\/
Despite the increasing complexity of the argument, she began to recognize voices—or at least patterns of response. There were the skeptics, and there were those inclined to trust her. She wondered how they could ever expect to achieve a consensus to arise from such chaos.
Each time the question reached its conclusion, the eddy of voices threatened to carry her away....
___We have numerous options.
/\1don’t trust her
/\2send her away
/\3trust her
/\4help her help us
/\5believe her
/\6don’t trust her
/\7send her away
/\8trust her
/\9help her help us
/\10disbelieve her
/\11kill her
/\12use her12\/
kill her11\/
don’t trust her10\/
trust her9\/help her8\/
send her away
/\8help her help us/\9help her get away
/\10send her away10\/
trust her9\/help her help us8\/
kill her7\/
send her away6\/
let her live5-3\/
ignore her2 don’t trust her1\/
Gradually, the voices began to cluster into groups. The clamor didn’t ebb, but it became slightly more coherent to Roche’s adjusting senses. Each group made concessions in order to increase its numbers; one, initially prepared to let her go unharmed, eventually allied itself with another group who wanted the resources of Daybreak to remain behind; another began by offering help unreservedly but ended up demanding rescue from the collapsing Gauntlet as a condition for giving that help. Then the boundaries shifted again, hinging this time on her possible allegiance with Linegar Rufo. With each concession came increased complexity, so the Plenary became less of a squabble and more of a debate, although some of the exchanges remained heated.
Woven through the groups were odd loners who initially refused to accept any compromise. One of these in particular caught Roche’s attention, even though the voice at first didn’t contribute much.
/\113-117We have to make some kind of decision soon.
/\118But what can we do?
/\119-125The sensible thing would be to wait to see what happens.125-119\/
Do we even have the resources to do anything?
/\119-125Exactly our point. For that reason we prefer inaction to action.
/\126-129No. The sensible response is to help her.
/\130-131Such action would potentially benefit us the most.
/\132No—kill her!
/\133And miss this chance to avenge my clan?133\/
Irrelevant! Her mere presence here puts us in danger!132
We have no proof of that.
/\132Yet.
/\133But we know she can help me.133\/
Must we also die in some futile attempt to make a point?132-131
It would be a meaningless sacrifice.130-126\/
Perhaps it is better in this case to attempt neither.125-118\/
Unacceptable response! Inaction is not an option!117-111\/
At least we’d be alive.110-109\/
For how long?108-105\/
My people didn’t die so yours could cower here and wait your turn!104\/
So let’s kill her now before she has a chance!103\/
This is getting us nowhere!102-98\/
The outrigger seeking revenge, Roche guessed, was the lone survivor of the attack on Wide Berth spine; the one seeking Roche’s death, however, she couldn’t identify. Perhaps it was one she hadn’t yet met. A couple of times she tried to interject a comment in her defense, but she didn’t know how to. All she could do was feel the currents of opinion ebbing and flowing around her.
___Which do we choose?
Each time that question was asked, argument broke out afresh and the entire process was repeated. Slowly, though, a consensus began to emerge.
/\286-291We need more information.
/\How do you propose getting that?294-292
By asking.291-286\/
And trusting her?285\/
We could do worse than try.279-284\/
Roche felt a growing sense of frustration. They had already interrogated her; what more could she possibly tell them that she hadn’t already? There wasn’t time for this!
The coordinating voice seemed to agree with her. Without warning, the fundamental spiel altered:
___We must reach consensus.
___Doing nothing is not an option
___and neither is stalling for more information.
___We cannot wait any longer.
___We must decide now.
___Do we help or hinder?
Roche almost drowned in the resulting surge of voices as the Plenary erupted into a chaotic buzz. She barely managed to hang onto the central thread in the fervor. And through the babble, only one voice stood out clearly.
/\l43Either we help her, or we die!
/\144-155You can’t be certain of that!155-144\/
My clan is no more; how much more evidence do you need?
/\144-155Wide Berth was in the wrong place at the wrong time.155-144\/
Exactly—so don’t let it happen to Long Span too!143\/
You are free to leave at any time.142-137\/
Maybe I will cast my lot elsewhere.136\/
Be serious!
/\136Better to have striven and failed than to not have even tried at all.
/\137-142We are talking about the possible annihilation of an entire clan!
We have no time for feeble aphorisms, child!142-137\/
My age is not relevant to this discussion.136\/
And you are alone.122-135\/
Am I?121\/
Are you?
/\121Will no one join me?
/\122I will.
The two words sent shock waves through the Plenary.
/\123Do you realize what you’re saying?
/\124-7If you join her, the spine will be broken!
/\128It will be destroyed anyway, won’t it?
/\129-32There is no evidence of that.132-129\/
There is enough to convince me.128\/
And me. It does seem the lesser of two evils.127\/
A choice between methods of suicide is not really a choice!126-124\/
At least you have a choice. My clan did not.121\/
They would have chosen life; why can’t we?
/\121 Because life does not seem to be an option anymore.
Roche listened in amazement as the tide of the Plenary turned, the outriggers for the most part preferring to risk exposure and attack rather than see the clan divided.
/\130-145We live as one, we die as one.
/\146But Roche is not one of us!146\/
Yarrow supports her.
/\146He is not one of us either.146\/
We have adopted him.145-92\/
Then we can un-adopt him!91\/
He is one of us now, and always will be!90-37\/
The resounding emphasis on Yarrow’s permanent status as a member of the clan silenced many of the critics. Into the sudden ebb, the auditor repeated the crucial question:
___Do we help or hinder?
/\l-9We help.
/\10-27We hinder.
/\28-32We help.
/\33-40We hinder.
/\41-55We help.
/\56-66We hinder.66-58
We help.59-42\/
We hinder.43-40\/
We help.39-26\/
We hinder.25-19\/
We help.18-1\/
The vote was fluctuating, changing every time the question was asked. Roche sensed a trend in her favor, but couldn’t be certain. There were too many powerful voices commanding a negative vote. She waited anxiously for some sort of confirmation.
___No matter what the decision
___do we agree to abide by the ruling of the clan?
/\1-66We do.66-1\/
The giddying motion of the Plenary ceased for a brief moment as all the outriggers agreed on that one point. Again Roche was surprised by the fierce unity of the clan. Perhaps that was only to be expected when the rest of the galaxy treated them with disinterest at best.
___Then we decide to help Morgan Roche.
The brief clarity of the Plenary instantly shattered.
/\1No! We can’t!
/\2-66We are decided.66-2\/
But it’s the wrong decision!
/\2-66We are decided.66-2\/
No! Kill her!0\/
Something screamed in Roche’s ears. At the same instant, the babble of the Plenary abruptly ceased. She opened her eyes to a scene of tangled metal and flashing energy. An outrigger—no, two outriggers—were rushing toward her, waldoes extended and lasers bright.
Her suit’s systems were already on alert, howling the deafeningly loud impact alarm that had snapped her out of the Plenary. She had just enough time to raise her arms by reflex and target both of the all-suits when one of them—a lozenge with purple squares at either end—fired a projectile at her abdomen.
The projectile exploded on contact, sending her spinning backwards through the alien space of the moon’s central chamber
“Roche!” Disisto’s voice rang in her helmet, but she didn’t have time to reply. The suit fired attitude thrusters to reorient itself, knocking her about while she fought to ready herself for another assault.
Her attackers had moved. She armed weapons and readied herself to fire. Only then did she notice that the other outrigger, battered black with no obvious markings, was grappling with the first. Its numerous waldoes pinned its opponent’s wherever it could find a grip; cutting lasers burned close to delicate sensors; attitude thrusters sent both spinning to prevent its getting a bead on Roche a second time.
The black one was clearly trying to save her. Roche immediately removed its image from the targeting systems in her suit. But the two were too closely tangled for her to fire with any hope of hitting just the one of them. She nudged herself closer, hoping for a clear shot.
It never came. Her attacker fired its thrusters at full- strength and tore itself away from the black all-suit. But before the latter could do anything, the purple suit seemed to crack open, releasing an explosive cloud of air into the vacuum. The all-suit spun with its thrusters still firing across the chamber and into a wall, then scraped along the wall for a dozen meters before the thrusters shut down.
It hit a projection and ricocheted, inactive, across the chamber. The black all-suit jetted to intercept it before it could fall into the anchor point.
“Roche! Are you all right?” Disisto’s voice fought for attention among those of Idil and the other outriggers. His immobilized suit hung nearby, anchored to the trumpetlike artifact at one end of the chamber.
“I’m fine,” she said, although she was short of breath and still high on adrenaline. She allowed his suit to move with barely a thought. “What the hell happened?”
“The purple all-suit just came out of nowhere and attacked you, then the other one tried to stop it.” He indicated the black all-suit, which had returned with the wreckage of the other.
“Thanks,” said Roche, turning to face it. “Whoever you are.”
The outrigger didn’t respond.
Before she could speak again, Mil’s all-suit slid into view. “This is Yarrow,” she said. “Your attacker was Alik. We are deeply puzzled—and hurt—by her betrayal.”
Roche didn’t have any problem understanding it. “She disagreed with the decision. That seems clear enough.”
“But to act against it!” The horror in the outrigger’s voice was clear. “No one in their right mind would ever do that!”
“Well, maybe there’s your answer,” she said. “Or not.”
She forced herself to approach the broken all-suit still gripped in Yarrow’s waldoes. Its interior lay exposed to the vacuum, dusted with frozen air and debris. Roche shone a spotlight inside and examined what she saw very closely.
She saw a wizened body curled in the claustrophobic embrace of wires, tubes, and padding. Its age, sex, and Caste were difficult to confirm at a casual glance, but Roche could tell that it was tiny, much smaller than Cane. Blood vessels had burst across its skin and its eyes and mouth were open. The expression on the dead outrigger’s face was one she wouldn’t forget in a hurry.
Definitely dead, and not a clone warrior.
She turned to face the outrigger who had saved her. This close, she could see the old damage to the young survivor’s all-suit. The outriggers of Long Span had done their best to mend it, but fresh paint couldn’t hide the signs of heat damage. The egg shape of the capsule itself looked slightly off-true, as though warped by a powerful impact.
This was her chance to make contact with the boy. “Thank you,” she said again.
But again he said nothing.
“He won’t talk,” said Idil. “As we told you, he hasn’t spoken aloud since his clan was destroyed.”
“But in the Plenary—”
“Yes. It was his ‘voice,’ if you will, that pushed the vote in your favor.”
Roche regarded the black all-suit with gratitude mixed with uneasiness. “It seems I owe you on two fronts, now.”
The boy’s all-suit only turned and moved away, his self-imposed radio silence adding to his all-suit’s strange air.
“Morgan Roche.” Auditor Byrne spoke by relay from elsewhere in the moon. “I am relieved to learn that you are safe.”
“I thought you said you spoke for your people,” said Roche with a trace of bitterness.
“I do—even more so now, after this unfortunate setback. The honor of Long Span spine has been tarnished. Our resolve to help you, and thereby regain our honor, is hardened. Alik’s attack only worsened her cause.”
“Perhaps, but I’ll have to talk to my crew about it.” Roche checked the time. Four hours had passed; no wonder she felt exhausted. “I will be able to contact the Ana Vereine in about in about fourteen hours. Let’s meet again in, say, ten.”
“Very well. We will make no further decisions for the moment.” Byrne hesitated before continuing: “I am deeply sorry, Morgan Roche, for what has happened. Believe me when I say that it will not happen again. All of us of Long Span spine know that if we do manage to escape Palasian system it will only be because we have worked together.”
Roche hoped she was telling the truth.
* * *
Six hours later, the outriggers detected a beacon from the Ana Vereine. Coded into the ping was a time and date stamp, plus vector coordinates relative to Hintubet. There was as yet no sign of the Marauder, but that didn’t surprise Roche. The ship’s camouflage systems were the most advanced in the COE and could easily fool the outriggers’ asteroid detection systems.
She recorded a brief message to be sent at the time indicated, outlining her present situation. Then, with her suit secured to a wall in the central chamber, she allowed herself a couple of hours’ sleep.
She was awakened sometime later when Haid called to confirm that Daybreak was ready to descend to the moon’s surface. The courier was far too obvious a newcomer to the double-jovian system, and the energy drain of holding the ship in a stable orbit was something they could do without.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” he asked.
Roche had thought a lot about the attack on her during the Plenary, and both she and Haid had discussed it. Alik had spoken and acted alone, but that didn’t mean there weren’t others who felt similarly. She had come to the conclusion, though, that she was probably safe. Not only had Alik killed herself rather than face the wrath of the clan, once she knew her attack had failed, but, as Byrne had said, the spine had to prove itself now. The betrayal of Roche’s peaceful approach, and the shame that brought with it, would do more than any threat of being expelled from the clan.
“Let’s say I’ve given up worrying about it, Ameidio,” she said. “Just find a suitable spot and bring the ship down.”
“Well, that isn’t going to be a problem,” he said. “It’ll be less like landing than docking. Intelligence HQ had more of a tug than this lump of rock.”
“How’s Myer?”
“I knocked him out. Not literally, of course, even though I would have liked to,” he added. “I put him back in the autosurgeon and under sedation for a while. He was getting in the way and I didn’t want him trying something while I was busy.”
“Understood,” she said. “But when you’re down, I want to talk to him. He saw what happened on Aro. I want to know whether or not Rufo forbade him to intervene.”
“Okay. I’ll instruct the autosurgeon to revive him then. He’ll have a headache, but it won’t kill him. More’s the pity.”
When Haid had decided where to land the courier, she relayed the coordinates to the outriggers. Idil guided her to the nearest shaft. There she rejoined Disisto, who had been exploring the moon under the watchful instruments of Yul and Eli.
“Find anything?” she asked.
“The untouched living quarters that Idil told us about earlier.” The security chief seemed excited. “From the pictures and other personal artifacts there, it would seem the builders were more like birds than mammals. Hollow bones, long limbs, and wide-spaced eyes—it’s quite incredible. They must’ve re-evolved back up to Pristine from some avian Low Caste.”
“Then Transcended,” Roche mused.
“Well, they certainly don’t seem to be anywhere around here anymore.”
“They must’ve been a pretty long-lived Caste. Given that Humanity has only been settling the galaxy for half a million years, that doesn’t give them much time to devolve and re-evolve.”
“That makes them a Primordial Caste, then,” said Disisto. “My God, Roche! This is fantastic! I doubt there’s another site as well preserved as this anywhere in the COE!”
“Well, it won’t be here for much longer,” she said.
Through the faceplate Roche could see Disisto’s face fall.
“Why is it that Humans let their petty differences get in the way of knowledge?” he said. “We could’ve studied this thing for decades.”
Before she could call him a hypocrite, he gestured to a point behind her. “Here’s the ship.”
Roche turned to where he’d indicated. She still found the blackness unnerving, but it did make detecting moving objects easier. The courier was a red dot drifting away from the half-set limb of Kukumat, growing steadily larger. Somewhere up there were the two spines, Long Span and Wide Berth, but neither was visible.
As Haid brought the ship down, Roche wondered if the curved spikes of the moon’s surface were actually used as grappling hooks for docking ships. It was possible that ships had been securely stationed to them while their occupants used the anchor point in the moon’s center to jump elsewhere across the galaxy.
But that didn’t explain why the builders had gone to so much trouble to hide the anchor point in the first place. Or why their living quarters had never been used.
Her train of thought was broken as the courier vessel banked around its landing point. She watched it decelerate to a halt a hundred meters away from them, then waited until the afterwash from the thrusters had dissipated before moving in closer.
“Can’t get smoother than that,” boasted Haid, his voice crackling loudly over the open frequencies. Grapnels anchored the ship to two of the bent “trees”; Roche checked briefly to see that the hold was secure.
The airlock hissed open as she approached. “Wait here, Disisto.”
On a closed channel, Haid said: “We have another message from the Box.”
Roche unlocked the suit helmet when the outer hatch had sealed, but didn’t allow herself the luxury of leaving the suit entirely. “What does it say?”
“It’s picked up coded transmissions from the edge of the system. Looks like someone on the outside is trying to talk to someone in here.”
“Is that what the AI thinks?”
“Well, it’s keeping its options open. All it says is that the transmissions are centered on Hintubet. My guess is they’re being relayed elsewhere.”
“Not necessarily.”
“But there’s no one that deep in-system.”
“No, but there is something,” she said. The sun of Palasian System was currently home to a number of machines of Kesh manufacture. “What if they’re talking to the Gauntlet?”
The inner lock hissed open and she stepped through. Haid was waiting for her on the other side. He stepped back to accommodate the suit in. the cramped passageway.
“I didn’t think of that.” He smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Morgan. I had my doubts for a while there.”
She touched his artificial arm with one gloved hand and stepped past him. “Thanks, Ameidio. Where’s Myer?”
“In the medic suite. He’ll be groggy.”
“All the better.” She thudded across the deck to the small medical facility. There, Mavalhin looked much like she had left him, tied flat to a narrow cot so he couldn’t move. This time, though, he looked healthier. He had regained much of his color and the only blood on his uniform was brown.
She shook him, not worrying too much if the suit overemphasized the power of her movements. “Myer?”
He stirred, blinking absently up at her. “Morgan?”
“Myer. Can you hear me?”
“I’m not deaf, Morgan.” He tried to sit up; puzzlement creased his features when he realized he couldn’t because of his restraints. “I didn’t think I was dangerous, either.”
“For the moment, that’s exactly what you are,” she said. “Now, tell me about the attack on Aro.”
He looked mystified for a second. “You mean when Emptage City and the spaceport were destroyed?”
“No, I mean the outriggers. You watched it happen. Describe what you saw.”
“Not much, really. I didn’t have the instruments—”
“Don’t lie to me, Myer. I know you had the instruments; you were there to observe. Now tell me what happened or so help me I’ll play cat’s cradle with your stitches.”
He paled slightly. “They were all killed,” he said resignedly. “Cut to pieces. They didn’t stand a chance.”
“How long did it take?”
“I don’t know. Ten minutes; maybe less.”
“Why didn’t you help them?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why couldn’t you, Myer?”
“I just couldn’t. It was ...” He hesitated. “There weren’t enough of us, Morgan. There was nothing we could do.”
Roche nodded. This was, so far, little different from what Disisto had told her. “But why didn’t the trap catch you, Myer?”
He shrugged. “We were more careful, I guess.”
“How were you careful?”
“We—” he began, then looked away and fell silent.
“You knew the traps were there, didn’t you?” Roche asked after a few seconds.
His eyes met hers again. “We saw them not long after we reached Aro.”
“So why didn’t you warn the outriggers?”
“What do you want me to say, Morgan?” He was angry now. “That I was just following orders? Is that what you want to hear?”
“What I want doesn’t come into it. What I’d like is for you to just tell me the way it was.”
“Look,” he said, attempting again to sit up. “We just assumed the outriggers would see the traps too. We didn’t think there was any need to expose ourselves. If we did, then we risked endangering the station and everyone on board. We couldn’t afford to take any risks, so we didn’t. And I guess it worked, because the traps didn’t spring us, and neither did the outriggers.”
“So it was your decision not to act?” asked Haid.
“No, of course not,” Myer said, shaking his head irritably. “We had orders. It was my decision to follow them.”
“But what exactly were your orders?”
“I’ve already told you: to keep our heads down, no matter what happened.”
Roche glanced at Haid, then back at Mavalhin. “Aro was the obvious place to look for survivors. You would’ve seen them if they’d been there. What did Rufo tell you to do in such a situation?”
Mavalhin shrugged. “I can repeat it as often as you like; it’s not going to change anything.”
“Myer, if you’re telling the truth, then it changes everything.”
He looked puzzled. “How? You were already at odds with the chief.”
“Yes, but now it’s not personal; it’s not just me getting my friends back and settling a score. Now it’s about stopping the man who ordered you to do nothing as dozens of innocent people were slaughtered simply because they tried to help. It’s about justice.”
Mavalhin snorted. “How can you be so self-righteous? What about your ‘friend’ Adoni Cane? One of his associates is responsible for killing nearly everyone in this system—and yet you seem only concerned with what I did, or what Rufo ordered.”
“That’s not true,” said Roche. “This whole thing stinks. I just—”
<Agreed, Morgan,> said a voice deep in her mind. <There is something far more mysterious going on here than even you currently suspect>
“Box!” She started at the sound of the voice. “Is that really you?”
<Yes, Morgan. This signal is being relayed through the courier.>
“But—”
<I know what you are about to say: I am not supposed to be within range for some hours yet. That was a deliberate ploy to throw anyone seeking the Ana Vereine off the scent. It would be prudent to maintain that illusion for now.>
<Yes,> she said, remembering to subvocalize. Mavalhin was staring at her with confusion, Haid with surprise. “Ameidio, let Myer loose but keep an eye on him. I need to be alone for a moment. If you can get Disisto in here as well, do it; Otherwise he can wait outside.”
With that she exited the medical facility and headed for the privacy of the bridge. She could tell that Haid was curious as to what was going on, but a proper explanation would have to wait—at least until she knew what was going on....
<So, where are you, Box? Where is the Ana Vereine?>
<Currently in orbit around Kukumat. You will notice a slight delay as we converse. I am routing my replies around Murukan to avoid detection.>
<You’re worried about the clone warrior tracking you down?>
<Yes. You mentioned in the summary you sent some hours ago that Rufo believes the warrior to be hiding in this location. I had also come to that conclusion. That is clearly why Rufo is broadcasting here, using the archival command language. And it might also explain the distress call: someone might have been hoping to lure the Ana Vereine here in order to steal it.>
She nodded; that made a cold kind of sense. <Are you aware that the command language might have nothing to do with the Sol Apotheosis Movement?>
<I did wonder. Its syntax bears little relation to anything in this region.>
Roche was surprised by the feeling of relief she felt at being in contact with the AI again. Kajic wouldn’t be far behind. For now, that was better than having definite answers. <So, how long have you been listening in?>
<Only a few minutes. Your presumption that Linegar Rufo was a passive accomplice in the destruction of Wide Berth spine seems to be correct, and that would justify any action you intend to take against him. There are, however, other things you must take into account while working out what to do in the near future.>
<Such as?>
<Rufo was sent here to observe the clone warrior. That seems obvious from what we have heard. The Kesh supplied the Gauntlet in order to isolate the system, and the COE gave them access. The Kesh also provided a destroyer to act as a ferry for the station and presumably to act as emergency backup should things go awry. That seems simple enough so far. But things become more complicated when all is taken into account. Rufo has gone to some pains to attempt to communicate with the fugitive clone warrior. He also tricked you into allowing Adoni Cane onto the station, whereupon he immediately took him captive. These are not the actions of a man sent to simply observe.>
Roche nodded; her thoughts exactly. <You believe he’s been trying to get his hands on a clone warrior from the start?>
<That is my conjecture. He could learn more from one in captivity than merely examining its wake.>
Realization suddenly hit. <That’s why he didn’t intervene on Aro. He wanted to watch him in action! But...> She tried to understand the xenoarchaeologist’s line of reasoning. <It’s a big risk. A huge risk. Why would he do that?>
<Coercion is a possibility. The Kesh are an unsubtle lot at best—as are the COE, who must be involved since Intelligence let Rufo know that you and Cane were coming. Or Rufo could be doing nothing more sinister than seeking knowledge.>
<A chance to study a living relic, you mean?> She nodded thoughtfully to herself. <I can relate to that, I guess. After all, these clone warriors were built two and a half thousand years ago. It would have been tempting to actually get one in the flesh to examine.>
<Morgan, Cane may be much older than two and a half thousand years.>
<What do you mean?>
<I mean that we know too little about him and his kind to state anything with certainty. To know more, we are going to have to access Rufo’s data.>
<That shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll just get it when we get Maii and Cane.>
<Not so simple. I have been examining the security layout of Galine Four. The station is indeed split into two discrete information networks. One, the larger, deals with the mundane day-to-day running of things; this one I have deduced how to subvert, without resorting to such crude methods as keeping palm-links constantly in contact. The other security system, much smaller, is intimately involved with the decision-making process. This second network, clearly, is where we will find the data we require. The two appear to be separated by a Tipper-Linke chaos-lock which, I am forced to concede, will not succumb to—>
<Wait. A what lock?>
<The precise details are unimportant. Suffice it to say that the two networks operate independently of each other for much of the time. When they do need to exchange information, it is conveyed in such a way that renders ineffective any attempt I might make to subvert it. Without taking over the entire outer network and somehow forcing the two to link, I can do nothing.>
<So what do you propose?>
<I must be maneuvered into such a position that I am allowed direct access to the inner security system.>
<Clearly. And your thoughts on how to do this are... ?>
<Influenced by two critical developments. The first is the communications drone sent out of the system by Rufo upon Cane’s capture. Did you ask Disisto about this?>
<He didn’t know anything about it.>
<Hardly surprising, since he was your captive at the time it was sent. But that does suggest that the launch of the drone was not a pre-planned event. It was spontaneous, a reaction to recent events.>
<The capture of Cane,> put in Roche.
<Precisely.>
<And the second development?>
<Is the transmission we intercepted from the edge of the system, of course. I suspect that circumstances within Palasian System are soon to change.>
Roche worked it through step by step. <Rufo called the Kesh. Having a clone warrior actually in captivity must’ve altered their plans somewhat. But they know Cane is dangerous, so they couldn’t plan to keep him long—especially with us on the loose. You think they asked for help?>
<I am sure of it. Depending on how far away from the anomaly the Sebettu was stationed, company could already be on its way.>
<The Armada blockade might stop them this time.>
<Why would it, given the COE is working with the Kesh? And even so, they would be no match for a Kesh destroyer in full flight. Neither would we, for that matter>
<So what are you suggesting? Strike now before it arrives?>
<Nothing of the sort. Quite the opposite, in fact...>
* * *
When she had finished talking to the Box, she rejoined Haid and helped him secure the ship. Together they prized Mavalhin into a suit, ignoring his protests at the rough treatment of his tender shoulder. Disisto, although now back in the ship, remained in his suit also; thus confined, the two were easier to control. At a simple command from Roche or Haid the suits could be frozen; both were programmed to seize up automatically if they approached within two meters of anyone without permission.
“What happens to us now?” asked Disisto while Roche and Haid double-checked the courier’s flight systems from the bridge.
“We take you back to Galine Four,” Roche replied without looking up. She didn’t need to see Mavalhin’s scowl to know it was there.
“And if I don’t want to go?” he asked. “You don’t have a choice, Myer,” she said. “Unless, of course, you’d like to stay out here after everyone’s left?”
“Listen, Morgan, the reason I helped you in the first place was so I didn’t have to go back.”
“Well, let’s just see what happens, okay?” said Roche tiredly. “If you help us like you did before, then perhaps we can drop you off somewhere else afterwards.”
“Assuming there is an afterwards,” he muttered.
“Enough, already!” Roche snapped. Then, more calmly to Haid she said: “Ameidio, get Auditor Byrne on the line.” Roche had better things to do than argue with her two captives. “We need to discuss tactics.”
She heard Disisto chuckle to himself. “That’s some fighting force you’ve got, Morgan,” he said.
“I’ve done better with less,” she retorted.
“Why not forget your friends for now? Maii will be released later, I’m sure.”
“Unharmed?” said Roche.
“As long as she doesn’t cause any trouble, yes.”
“And Cane?”
“I don’t know what will happen to him,” Disisto admitted. “But don’t you think you might be safer without him around anyway?”
Roche spun around in her seat to face Disisto. “How about we make a deal: I’ll stop trying to turn you against Rufo if you stop trying to use Cane against me.”
A thin grin touched Disisto’s lips. “Hit a nerve, have I?”
“Cane’s saved my life on more than one occasion. That deserves something, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe it does. But do you blame me, then, for being suspicious?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Morgan,” interrupted Haid. “Auditor Byrne says she can have a quorum together in ten minutes.”
Roche turned to check the ship’s systems, fuming. “Ask her if they’ll gather out here. I’d like to join them.”
“What about these two?”
“We’ll freeze them and put them on a tether. A little sensory deprivation will do them a world of good.” Then, more to herself than anyone else, she added: “Wouldn’t do me any harm to not have to listen to them for a while, either.”
“Hey, lighten up, Morgan—”
“Shut up, Myer.” She froze their suits with a mental command. “I’m not in the mood.”
She went over to help Haid clamber into his own suit.
“I’ve got a feeling I’m going to be in this for a while,” he said as she checked the seals down his left side.
“Bet on it.”
“At least we’re even, now.” His new hand, buried in his powered suit’s glove, curled upward into a clenched fist. “Fancy an arm wrestle?”
“Pass. But feel free to try Myer. He’d be stupid enough to take you on.”
She patted the last seal closed, then stepped back.
“Morgan.” Haid hesitated. “I don’t want to pry, but that was the Box you were talking to before, right?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“But how? We’re not registering any incoming signals.”
She stared at him for a moment. “It said it’s relaying to avoid detection. Maybe it’s masking the signals on our instruments too.”
“That’s kind of paranoid, don’t you think?”
“Maybe we should be glad it is.”
The ion bridge was in full flower as they left Daybreak to join the gathering quorum. Fifteen outriggers had gathered in a half-sphere around the patch of Mok Roche had chosen at random. She recognized some of them by sight alone: Yarrow’s midnight-black, Idil’s pinkish-orange, Lud’s diagonal black stripes, and one with a green triangle, from the previous quorum, whose name she didn’t know.
She and Haid took positions in front of the outriggers, towing Disisto and Mavalhin behind them. When they were stationary, Roche unfroze the two captives so they could see what was going on, and perhaps even contribute.
“This has been something of an unusual day for us, Morgan Roche.” Auditor Byrne’s teardrop all-suit floated not far from her at the rough center of the gathering. “We would normally only meet once or twice a standard year. Two quorums and one Plenary in less than a day is quite extraordinary.”
“It’s the situation which is extraordinary,” said Roche. “But again, I thank you for your cooperation.”
“As I said, by helping you we help ourselves,” the Auditor told her. She made no reference to Alik, the outrigger who had attacked Roche, but the knowledge of what she had done hung heavily upon the meeting. “Now, how exactly can we go about it?”
Roche took a deep breath. “You know that I have two friends held captive by Linegar Rufo in Galine Four. I intend to liberate them by any means possible. While doing so, I hope to obtain the information that has been gathered since Galine Four’s arrival in this system; this information should prove helpful in our investigation of the clone warriors.
“In return for your help in these matters, we will give you safe passage from this system. It may mean dismantling the spines to squeeze them into the holds, but we’ll do it. If I get out of here alive, so will you.”
“A fair exchange,” said Auditor Byrne. “But given the situation, I wouldn’t have accepted anything less.”
“There is one other thing,” said Roche. “Rufo ordered the inaction of his observers around Aro, and as such is in part responsible for the destruction of Wide Berth’s clan. I don’t necessarily condone vengeance, but I will assist you in bringing him to justice, should you choose to do so.”
Private lasers darted between the gathered outriggers.
“Thank you, Morgan,” said Byrne. “But it is us whom Rufo has wronged, and if he is to answer for this, then it must be to us alone. It is necessary for the grief-healing of the clan.”
“Roche, that isn’t fair!” Disisto exclaimed. “At least grant Linegar the right of reply before you—”
“I warned you, Disisto. Ameidio, shut him out.” Disisto’s visor went black; his transmissions ceased in mid-outrage.
“How about you, Myer? Got a problem with this?”
Mavalhin looked at Roche steadily for a few seconds. “Not at all, Morgan. This is your show.”
“Okay,” she said, turning from the pilot. “Byrne, before we go into details, I need to ask you something. Idil said that she had taken over the all-suit of an older clan member when she died. Do you have any other such empty suits around?”
“We have six empty suits at this time, plus another fifteen recovered from Wide Berth. All are tethered to their respective spines. Why?”
“The Box can teleoperate them along with some of the Ana Vereine’s ancillary vessels and any others we can lay our hands on. They’ll only be decoys, but the more points we can attack from, the better.”
“Consider them at your disposal,” said Byrne.
“Excellent,” said Roche. “And if there are any of you reluctant to fight, you are welcome to stay on board the Ana Vereine during the attack—just as long as we have use of your suit to add to our decoys.”
“Without our suits, we are nothing,” said one of the outriggers, a statement that provoked a general susurrus of agreement.
“I understand that,” Roche put in quickly. “But at least this way you might still survive even if your all-suit was damaged. We can arrange some sort of sealed environment in the ship, if you like—even teleop facilities so you can still fly your suit. And should the worst occur, then I’m sure a replacement could be built to specifications at a later date.”
While her concern for the outriggers was genuine, that was not her main motive for the proposal. She was more interested in seeing who accepted the offer—and who didn’t. An all-suit would be a convenient place for a fugitive to hide. If the clone warrior had infiltrated the spine, this would narrow down the suspects.
“We shall take your words into consideration,” said Byrne. “Now, what about strategy?”
“Well, we need a plan that will give us time to get in, do what we have to do, then get out again,” said Roche. “And it isn’t going to be easy. A sneak attack by a small number of scouts would be worse than useless. They’d eventually be detected, and that would warn Rufo that a larger attack was imminent, enabling him to prepare his defenses.
“Sneaking up on them isn’t an option either,” she continued. “They’re not blind and they’ll be expecting us to try something. Even a small group will stick out in a featureless sky. They’d be shot down long before they’d get anywhere near the station.
“So, our best hope lies in getting a large assembly as close as possible without being seen and striking hard and fast. If we can penetrate their defenses quickly and get inside, the battle becomes one of internal security. That will take the pressure off the attacking force, allowing it to conserve resources and regroup if necessary. That’s assuming of course that we don’t completely knock out their defenses on the first pass; if we can do that, getting in and out will be considerably easier.”
She looked around the quorum. Not being able to see the expressions of those she was addressing was frustrating, but the fact that there was no movement whatsoever from the all-suits gave her the impression she was at least being listened to.
“We do have something of an edge,” Roche went on. “Once I get the Box inside the station, we can use it to shut down external security. This will only work for a while—until they manage to re-route it through the internal security shell—but we need all the time we can get. The Box should also be able to tell us where Maii and Cane are held in the station. I doubt they’ll be together, so I imagine the landing party will have a lot to do. It’s basically me and Ameidio versus the entire internal security, since we’re the only ones with legs.”
She glanced over at Mavalhin. “Disisto has told me he doesn’t want to assist us against his employer, but I’m hoping Myer Mavalhin here will be able to give us some insight into the operation of Galine Four: blind spots or security weaknesses, points of entry, ways to move freely inside, weapons caches—that kind of thing. Any help he can provide would be useful at this point.”
Mavalhin looked over to Disisto’s blacked-out suit floating beside him, then back to Roche. “I’ll do what I can,” he said.
“Good,” she said. “Then you will be part of the boarding party, too.”
“But can he be trusted?” said one outrigger.
“We’ll find that out soon enough, I guess,” Roche replied. Then, addressing the quorum as a whole, she said, “Now, does anyone have any suggestions? I presume some of you have had combat experience?”
“Unfortunately, we all have,” said Auditor Byrne. “We are better at running than fighting, but we stand up for ourselves when we have to. As you know, we possess many tools that can serve as weapons. Many of them would be useful in the attack.”
“Good,” Roche said. “They’ll add some mass to the assault. The Ana Vereine has a stockpile of surveillance micromachines. The Box might be able to reconfigure some to attack the station’s external surfaces—either the observation systems or the hull itself. Do you have any way to deliver such devices en masse?”
“We have nano seeders,” said Lud. “Bullet-shaped and grain-sized. We could send a cloud in ahead of us. They might take it for nothing more than space junk—until it starts eating into them.”
“Perfect. Anyone else?”
“What about the crust-rippers?” asked another outrigger.
“Too destructive,” said Lud.
“We could use them as a threat. Load Wide Berth spine with as many as we’ve got and threaten to ram if they don’t surrender.”
“An empty threat,” said Idil. “We could never use them. If we did, the explosion would wipe out everything for a million cubic kilometers. Including the Ana Vereine and our only way out of here.”
“We can use ion drilling cannon to cut through the hull if the micromachines don’t work,” suggested another.
“And blind singleships with spectrometry bombs,” said yet another
“And we still have the leftover slag from the asteroids we carved before everything went wrong,” said Lud. “We could use it as cover for the nano seeders. Mostly carbon and ice, a bit of iron, nice and irregular in size and shape. The seeders will blend right in.”
“Good thinking,” said Byrne.
“We also have access to the subsystems of a dozen or so prowling mines,” said one. “They are an older make and easily subverted, the same ones the clone warrior used to destroy the Armada base around Cemenid.”
“Has anyone considered using drill rigs to boost our own thrust?” came still another suggestion.
Roche relaxed slightly in the suit and let them workshop. She noticed Haid watching her to one side, and signaled him privately, reducing the volume of the outriggers’ chatter to a minimum.
“What do you think? Do we have a chance?”
“Depends on how far Rufo will go to keep what he has,” Haid replied. “If his life depends on it, he’s going to do everything in his power to get rid of us once and for all. Last time he at least tried to pretend that he was doing the right thing. This time there’ll be no charades.”
“That’s true,” said Roche. “He knows we have Disisto and Myer. If we didn’t know the truth by now, then we wouldn’t be worth worrying about in the first place.”
“And do we know the truth? Even now?”
“I’m sure we don’t,” Roche said. “Not entirely. But I know we’re a damn sight closer than we were a few days ago.”
She quickly returned her attention to the quorum when she heard someone ask:
“What do we do if something goes wrong?”
“If something goes wrong, we’ll surrender,” Roche said. “That is, I will surrender, not you. If we let them have the Ana Vereine, they’ll be probably be happy.”
“And what happens to you then?”
“That’s up to Rufo,” she said. “It should be no concern of yours. Don’t even think of trying to rescue us; you should concentrate on hiding. Galine Four won’t be here forever, and there’s always a chance a rescue team will arrive in time. Remember, the collapse of the system is still some weeks away.”
“If that is your wish,” said Byrne, “we will abide by it.”
“Good.” Despite what she and the Box had decided, Roche hoped it wouldn’t come to that. “Now, Myer. Any suggestions on how to get in?”
The pilot cleared his throat. “Well, everything will be locked up pretty tight, as you can imagine.”
“Yes, but despite the Kesh, it’s not a military station,” she pointed out. “There must be some weak points.”
“Of course there are. Or rather there were. I don’t know if anything will have changed since I last looked.”
“I guess that’s a risk we’ll just have to take.” She fought the urge to tell him to stop procrastinating. Antagonizing him now would be counterproductive.
“The best bet would probably be the old freight transfer point on deck 17D. No one’s used it for months, so the old codes should still work. And if they don’t, we can always cut through. They shut it down because of an acid spill; the seals are corroded and could be nice and brittle. Bad for safety, but good for you. I mean, us.”
Roche ignored the slip. “How many singleships does the station have, and what other defensive measures can we expect?”
“There are usually fifteen singleships at the ready, from a pool of thirty. I don’t know how many you wrecked when you left. The station has the usual stock of E-shields and anti-assault cannon. Nothing too destructive. Getting close enough to get in shouldn’t be too much of a problem. It’s once you’re in that you’ll have difficulty.”
“Go on.”
“Well, you’ve seen it. It’s big and full of people. Bad enough that you want to get to one specific area—but two, or even three? If I wasn’t coming with you, I wouldn’t give you any chance at all.”
“That’s exactly why you’re coming with us, Myer.”
“So I gathered,” he said. “Anyway, you’ll need to bypass as much as possible. Try to keep us off the monitors, or at least covered somehow. If your AI can’t do that, you’ll have to arrange distractions. Hit them from every angle and they won’t know where to concentrate their efforts. You might be able to slip through that way.”
That was pretty much what she’d been thinking; maybe not so destructive as blowing up a scutter, though, like last time. “No loopholes we can utilize?”
“Not without knowing exactly where we’re going.”
“No way of cracking into the second security level?”
“None I’m aware of. Disisto might know, though.”
“And he wouldn’t tell me if he did.” She thought for a second. “I’m not sure I agree that getting in will be easy. The singleships are faster than all-suits, better armed and armored. There are more of us, and sheer numbers may win the day, but on the other hand they might not. If we plan for every contingency, we might just turn things around to our favor; at the very least, we’ll save lives.
“Auditor Byrne, we’ll leave you to sort out who wants to fight and who wants to piggyback on the Ana Vereine. I’ll download the schematics of the station and any other relevant data once I can lay my hands on it so you can discuss possible tactics and ways to minimize your losses.
“Meanwhile, we’ll work out what to do from our end. We have some time to play with, anyway. Even at full burn, it’d take us a day or two to reach the station from here.”
“Unless it’s moved,” said Haid.
“Yes, but there’s not much we can do about that from here—not with the information lags as they are.”
“Very well, Morgan Roche.” The sharp-tipped all-suit bobbed gently in the microgravity; some of the outriggers around her were already breaking ranks. “We will keep you informed of our progress.”
Auditor Byrne’s silver tear was among the last to leave. Roche waited for them all to disperse before moving herself. She scanned the skies briefly before she did, and in doing so noticed Yarrow, all but invisible in his black all-suit, hanging like an accusation in the starless sky.
Roche felt as though the mysterious outrigger was watching her, and the idea of this made her feel uncomfortable. Why would he have saved her if he wasn’t who Byrne thought he was? So far he had done nothing to arouse her suspicion, except be silent.
She stared back at him for a few minutes, but when it was apparent he wasn’t going to move, she turned away and started tugging Disisto’s limp suit back into the courier’s airlock. When she glanced back a moment later, she saw Yarrow’s all-suit disappearing into one of the moon’s shafts.
* * *
<Okay, Box—>
<No need, Morgan. I overheard everything> Roche suppressed the obvious response: How? But now wasn’t the time. She was in one of the courier’s two small sleeping spaces with the door locked, having secured Disisto and Mavalhin in the bridge while Haid slept in the room next door. The ex-mercenary had looked exhausted after the quorum, and even he had admitted to not having had enough rest in the last few days.
<So how do our plans fit in with yours?>
<Well enough. I suggest I come out of hiding in twenty-four hours. We can explain my early arrival by telling the truth in part—that we have been lying low and falsifying our ETA to avoid detection. We should be battle-ready by then.>
<How is the ship holding up? The intrasystem thrusters must be taking a bit of a hammering.>
<Uri has been careful not to exceed safety limits, and they’re designed well.>
Roche smiled. <Can I talk to him?>
<Sorry, Morgan, but he’s resting. However, I will inform him when he awakes that you asked after him.>
<Thanks, Box.>
<I also suggest that we do not reveal the location of the Ana Vereine until we are under way. It would be much more difficult, under those circumstances, to attempt to subvert us.>
Roche considered the suggestion. That would mean docking Daybreak to the Marauder while undergoing acceleration—a tricky maneuver at the best of times.
<Are you sure that’s necessary? It sounds a bit paranoid—>
<Better too paranoid than not at all,> said the Box, echoing her own thoughts on that subject.
<I guess so,> she said with some uncertainty. <And what about what happens afterwards? Have you given any thought to that? I mean, once we get Maii and Cane back, where do we go from here? What do we do?>
<I suggest we wait to see what Rufo’s data tells us before we start examining our options>
<But shouldn’t we at least have some plan? If we do manage to avoid the Kesh destroyer and the blockade, chances are we’ll have no time to decide what—>
<I understand what you are saying, Morgan,> the Box broke in. <However, I do feel that our mission is best served by patience at this point. After all, we have no clear destination beyond here.>
<I thought as much,> she said wearily. <Reassure me, Box. Tell me we can do this.>
<I cannot offer you any guarantees, Morgan. Everything is subject to chance.>
<Then can you at least give me odds?>
<Sorry, Morgan. I would rather we just went into this assuming that we will win.>
Roche sighed to herself and closed the line. She lay back on the bunk, but realized after a few minutes that she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Instead she went to the bridge and called up a communications display. She was curious after what Haid had said earlier about not detecting any incoming signals from the Box.
As before, there had been no voice transmissions, coded or otherwise, sent to or from the courier during the time of her talk with the Box. The only transmission she couldn’t account for was one intense burst lasting a second or two, not long after their last conversation. It had been sent from the courier to a destination farther in-system.
She didn’t know what that meant. Maybe the Box had downloaded part of itself into the courier, and that smaller part had communicated their conversation to the larger one in a single concise spurt after the fact rather than in multiple transmissions during. That would make sense: after all, the Box itself seemed to be just a smaller chip off the High Human called the Crescend; no doubt the process was repeatable to a smaller degree. But she did doubt that there was room in the courier’s available memory for an AI with the sophistication of the Box. And if the Ana Vereine was hiding behind Kukumat as the Box claimed, then the transmission had gone in the wrong direction—although there was the possibility that it could have been sent via a relay.
Tapping at the console, she instructed the communications system to notify her every time any such bursts were received or transmitted by the courier.
<I don’t think that’s necessary, Morgan.>
The voice in her head came as no surprise; she had half expected her actions to prompt the Box to intervene.
<And what exactly is it you think I’m doing, Box?>
<I presume you are trying to deduce how I am communicating with you.>
<Possibly. Or maybe I’m just concerned that there’s a bug on board the ship sending information back to Galine Four.> She smiled to herself. <That would be more reasonable than suspecting you of anything underhanded, don’t you think? But the fact that you didn’t even bring it up would suggest that you are up to something.>
The Box was silent for a moment. Not long, but long enough. <I assure you, Morgan, that I am ‘up to’ nothing ‘underhanded.’>
<Then how about telling me what you’re doing?>
<That isn’t an issue I’m prepared to discuss right now. You will find out soon enough.>
She frowned. <Why not now?>
<Because it isn’t relevant>
“Is everything all right?”
She started at the unexpected voice outside her head. She turned and saw Disisto sitting up in his suit, helmet off but otherwise immobile. Next to him, Mavalhin lolled like a broken-backed doll, unconscious.
“I thought you were asleep,” she said.
“Not me. I’ve spent too much time in the dark just lately.” When she ignored the gibe, he said: “I don’t suppose you’d care to give me some sort of mobility? My nose is itchy as hell.”
She sent a command to allow him to move, although restricting those movements to the crash-couch. “How’s that?”
He flexed his arms. “Much better. Thanks.”
“You think I’m being too tough on you, don’t you?”
He shook his head slowly. “Not really,” he said. “The way I see it, I’m lucky to be alive at all. Most of your buddies would have shot me by now.”
Roche smiled, although there was no evidence of humor in his tone or his face.
“I think you exaggerate a little.”
He held her stare evenly. “Maybe,” he said. “But the fact is they don’t take well to uncooperative prisoners.”
In the quiet that followed she said: “You know, you could still help me.”
He sighed heavily. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times: I won’t help you attack the chief—”
“I’m not asking you to do that,” she said. “I’d just like to know what he’s doing here, that’s all. As do you. All I want is your help finding out that information.”
Disisto ran a hand over the stubble dusting his dark face and scalp. “I can’t do that without helping you in other ways too.”
“You could mediate,” said Roche. “Rufo and Shak’ni and all their Kesh pals will be intent on blowing us away once we return. Personally, I’d rather talk than fight—and they might listen to you if you try to mediate. Should Rufo give us the information we need—along with Maii and Cane—then we’ll leave him alone. Hell, we might even take him out of the system if he wants us to. I’m sure he doesn’t like being dependent on the Kesh for that.”
“I know he doesn’t,” he said.
“So?” Roche pressed. “Can I count on you not screwing things up until we’ve at least tried to talk?”
Disisto sighed again. “Okay,” he said. “If it means a possible peaceful solution, then I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good. Because you’re coming in the landing party with us, and I didn’t want to have to drag you around like a big sack of rocks.” Roche smiled, relieved to have finally reached some sort of compromise with him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to try and turn a bunch of outriggers into something resembling a fighting force.”
Disisto leaned back into his seat with a half-smile on his face, but before he could say anything, the alarm Roche had installed in the communications systems sounded through her implants.
She turned back to the console and examined the surge. It seemed no different from the other, except this time it was incoming. A reply from the larger part of the Box, perhaps?
Disisto had said something about Mavalhin, but she wasn’t listening.
<Box, what the hell are you playing at?>
<Morgan,> it said, ignoring the question. <I am detecting a powerful neutrino surge from Hintubet.>
She cast an eye across the instruments. There it was: a sharp spike only slowly trailing off. As she watched, it peaked again, higher than before. <Could it be dangerous?> she said.
<It may affect some modes of communication, but little else. My concern lies with what it says about the source of the surge.>
<Hintubet? I can’t see why—> She stopped. <The Gauntlet? You don’t think—?>
Another spike, more powerful, again registered on the courier’s neutrino detectors. <We caught a signal directed at the sun sometime ago. I assumed it was a routine signal to fine-tune the solar envelope. Now, judging by the sun’s severely altered behavior, I am rapidly coming to the opposite conclusion.>
The tone of the Box’s voice was leading Roche in the same direction. <They’re killing it, aren’t they?>
<I think so. By instructing the fleet of quark breeders orbiting within the chromosphere to dump their entire stock of strange matter into the star at once, they can cause the solar envelope to spontaneously collapse.>
<How long, Box?>
<That depends on how the chain reaction progresses. It may cascade, resulting in a catastrophic collapse within a few hours; or it may be held in check by other forces within the—>
<How long do you think we have?>
<Taking into account the even spacing of the spikes so far, my best guess would be sixty hours.>
Sixty hours? Roche turned the figure over in her head. Just three days to get the outriggers to Galine Four, across a distance of over five billion kilometers, break in, rescue Maii and Cane, find out what Rufo knew, and get out again. Then get out of the system before the envelope collapsed completely...
“Roche?” said Disisto from behind her; irritably she waved him to silence.
<What about the Sebettu?> she asked the Box.
<I can only assume that it is already on its way.>
<And if Rufo is heading for a rendezvous, we have to find him and match velocities, all without being seen... We’re really going to have to move fast on this.>
<That would be stating the obvious somewhat.>
She ignored the Box’s flippancy and quickly spoke into a mike on the console.
“Auditor Byrne,” she said. “I’m going to need your people ready to move in two hours. I repeat: two hours.”
“I hear you.” The auditor’s voice came on instantly. “But why the sudden urgency?”
“I just found out that the collapse of the envelope is being brought forward,” she said. “We now have just three days to do what we have to do and get the hell out of here.”
“Can we do it?”
“We can try,” Roche said. “Beyond that, I’m not making any promises...”