Lorna Tem listened, and listened again.
Very carefully.
At first the childlike tone of the voice had argued against any possibility of it being the Falcon she knew. But what was that when set against the rank impossibility of a human voice imprinted on a modulated flux of neutrinos boiling out of the very heart of the sun?
She clung to her scepticism almost until the end. Falcon and the Machine—the one called Adam—laid out their joint terms for an end to the war. None of it was objectionable to her.
Then he had delivered the part of the message that shredded the last of her doubts.
“Oh, and Surgeon-Commander Tem? I remembered, belatedly, how we first met, many years ago. You were that brave little girl on the Hindenburg. I am sorry that our second meeting was not under better circumstances. But you did your best to warn me that I had been weaponised. I am sorry if my revelation now places you in difficulty, but I wanted you to know of my gratitude, and I may not have another chance to express it.”
When the message ended, she only had to assure Boss that as far as she was concerned it was quite authentic—that that was the Falcon she had known.
The Boss grinned that wide chimp smile once again. “Good luck, Surgeon-Commander—and you may need it after being outed by your exotic friend. If you see him again, remember me to him. Hoo! But today a new age begins, for all of us.” And he closed the connection.
It took only seconds before the door buzzed.
“Come in,” she said, feeling neither dread nor curiosity.
It was a Springer-Soames, of course, Bodan Severyn, and a pair of security guards.
Tem said, “I thought you’d have had the sense to leave by now.”
“We held a last shuttle on-pad for ourselves, and anyone else who needs mopping up. And then we heard that message.”
She smiled. “Of course. So there’s a message from the sky, from the heart of the sun—an incomprehensible event, a revelation. And your first response is to come for me.”
“You’re under arrest, Surgeon-Commander. The charges are too numerous to have been detailed yet, but they will include sabotage of the Falcon operation against the Machines, the dissemination of military secrets, espionage, free association with known dissident elements . . .” He glanced at the guards. “Detain her. Bring her to the shuttle. She isn’t to visit any of the other areas in the complex.”
His piece delivered, Tem’s humiliation complete, Bodan turned and prepared to march out.
But the guards were hesitating at the door. They glanced at each other, and at Tem, then at Bodan.
Bodan halted and turned, curious more than alarmed. “I told you to take her. Why are you delaying?”
And in the bowels of the world, Tem felt something change. A vast engine silenced.
“Take her!”
Still the guards hesitated.
Tem smiled. “I’m sure your guards heard the message. Everybody must have heard it. You heard my name spoken on a string of neutrinos, pouring from the heart of the sun. So did your sister, Bodan. Can’t you hear it, feel it? She understands that everything’s changed—she, evidently, has already shut down your Momentum Pump. Already halted this absurd act of folly. Everything is different now—you must see that.” She turned to the guards. “As for you—ask yourselves. Whose side are you on?”
At last the guards moved. But it was not Tem they came for.
Bodan Severyn tried to run.