“Er, welcome back, ma’am,” she added.
She looked different, and I ran through a mental list— short dark cap of hair, same; slim figure, same; determinedly calm expression. Ah, she now wore light EarthFleet blue instead of ConFleet navy. And she wasn’t an ensign anymore.
“You transferred?” I said, surprised. Lee had always been a staunch ConFleet supporter in the inevitable ConFleet-EarthFleet squabbles.
She smiled shyly. “I got comfortable here.”
Someone said something about “making a love nest” and she swung around menacingly.
“Our gain is ConFleet’s loss, then,” I said. “And congratulations on the promotion.”
“Thank you, Commander.”
I stepped down to Ops, where Gamet waved her hand at the bank of readouts.
“It’s not too bad. We’ve settled the environmentals, although Delta recycling is having problems.”
If environmentals had stayed up, An Serat must have left that part of the opsys alone. “Delta recycling always has problems,” I said. “What’s that noise?”
Gamet listened for a moment, her head on one side. The lights from the readouts stained her nose and cheeks a sickly green. Then she grinned, understanding. “That’s the subsystem monitor network. We set up access here after you left.”
I became aware that the Bubble was a lot quieter than when I’d stepped inside. Everyone was carefully not listening to Gamet and myself.
“Uplifts are a bit unreliable,” continued Gamet, tapping up information on each system as she spoke, spidery blue figures weaving their way down the screen. “We’re monitoring them closely, especially after what happened in Alpha.”
“Good. I want to... the administration needs to know if there’s any unauthorized usage.”
“There’s one worrying development.” On the screen to her right rotated a 3-D schematic of the core. “These energy fluctuations.” She traced a series of orange patterns that passed in waves through a certain part of the core. On the periphery of the opsys, but connected to it.
“That’s one of the dock systems...” my voice trailed away. Farseer ’s dock. An Serat must be trying to gain information from the Tor elements of the core. Or activate them, or subvert them, or whatever he meant to do. While we’d been chasing Q’Chn, he was connecting a live Tor device to my station’s core. We had to get rid of him, Farseer, and the Q’Chn. I wanted the lot of them off my station.
“Set up a block against Tor interference,” I said to Gamet. “As close as you can to these connections with the ship. You can find examples of blocks in the database, look in the construction records for 2116, about the middle of the year.”
Gamet’s eyes widened and she dropped her voice, “ Tor interference? But how can... I thought it was the Invidi ship.”
“I could be mistaken,” I said. “But those blocks are the most thorough, anyway. Set it up and see how it goes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Procedures we’d used six years ago wouldn’t stop An Serat from reaching further into our opsys for long, but with any luck we wouldn’t need long. If ConFleet hurried up through that jump point... I cursed mentally. Here we go again. Waiting for ConFleet to come and rescue us. What happens if we get neutrality? ConFleet won’t come then. It’s about time we learned to stand by ourselves.
“I’ll need you in a meeting soon,” I said to Gamet, “to coordinate with the other departments.”
“I’ll stand by.” She didn’t lift her gaze from the screen. Her fingers tapped busily, sending signals to each ring.
I left her to it and walked over to Lee. “Is Mr. Stone in there?” I nodded at the connecting door to the head of station’s office. Another door beside it led to the rest of the administrative complex. Veatch’s territory, a hive of corridors and offices.
Lee shook her head. “I don’t think so. He hasn’t checked in here, at any rate.”
“What, not since the Q’Chn attack?” I said, shocked. “I saw him earlier, about ten, up in the center with the New Council captain.”
“He hasn’t come in here.” Lee seemed half reluctant to disclose this breach of custom, but at the same time needing to tell someone. I could see a station timer on beside her monitor. It read 16:20.
“I took him the night shift’s report, he signed it,” she said.
“That’s it?”
“He leaves tactical affairs to Lieutenant-Commander Parno and myself.”
Which was, strictly speaking, the correct procedure. Head of station was supposed to be an administrative position. My ConFleet rank had been incidental.
“Where’s Parno?” I said.
“He went on short leave the day before you and Mr. Murdoch got back.”
“He missed the fun, then.”
She smiled properly at that. “I think Mr. Stone went to see the magistrate after he finished in the center.”
“Thanks.”
I tried Veatch’s office, next door to Stone’s. The door opened to reveal an immaculate interior. Matte beige and cream, no EarthFleet blue for Veatch. Flat, abstract creations on two walls. A water sculpture bubbling in the corner.
Veatch stood by the enormous desk, shifting his gaze between one of the monitors on it and another monitor on the wall.
“Veatch?”
He turned. “Commander Halley.”
“I did resign,” I reminded him gently.
“I am aware of this. However the filework has not been completed and your record is still unchanged. I also believe that in this unusual situation morale is better served if you are seen to be an officer.”
“You’re very thorough.”
“Of course.”
“Did you get those status reports for me?”
He held out a handcom.
I took it and slipped it into my jacket pocket and stayed in the doorway. “Perhaps you could be a little more thorough in your cooperation with Security.”
His antennae stiffened with shock. “My department is always cooperative with Security.”
“Yes. But over in Section Three during the Q’Chn attack, the residents didn’t seem as worried as they should have been. Your people should be out there with Murdoch’s, making sure everyone knows what to do.”
“The administration has disseminated information on all public channels.” Disapproval tinged every syllable.
“Then get out there with loudspeakers or notes on handcoms, I don’t care. Just give Security a hand. Get your staff off their backsides, out of their offices, and onto the throughways. The best way to avoid casualties is to have people prepared.”
His face was even more expressionless than usual and his body, turned half away, also told me nothing. He’s going to say who the hell are you to be giving orders.
But he dipped his antennae and turned toward the desk. “I will send a memo to all departments immediately.”
“Just a memo?”
He sat down with a thud. “An urgent memo.”
“That’ll have to do. And try to get more information from Trillith about the Q’Chn.” My hands were sweating. I wiped them discreetly down my trousers. “One more thing. Have you ever heard of an Invidi attacking anyone personally? One to one?”
He inclined his head in thought. “No recent information suggests it. But I remember when we discussed An Barik during the blockade, Trillith mentioned a detail from the K’Cher-Invidi war.”
“What did Trillith say?” I prompted.
“It said there was such an attack, but many Changes ago and Trillith could not recall the details.”
“Hmm.”
“Why do you ask?” said Veatch.
“I’m trying to understand why An Serat is staying here,” I said. “And how to get rid of him before we have any more casualties.”
“Invidi attacking who?” said Murdoch’s voice behind me.
I spun around. He looked all right. Pale, the hollows at his temples more prominent than usual.
“Me,” I s
aid.
“What? When?”
“In the center a little while ago. An Serat threw some sort of electrical charge at me.” At least, that’s what it had felt like. If it was an ordinary charge, though, the opsys would have reacted in the immediate area. And I observed no absorption spikes or rejection outages, which is what you’d expect.
“But I’ve never heard...”
“That’s why I asked Veatch. Serat said some disturbing things.”
Murdoch groaned. “Not more trouble. What?”
“He said he’d discovered the pleasures of acting in the present. To do that, he’s had to give up his future-sight.”
“You don’t sound worried.”
“I am worried,” I said slowly, groping for the thought that had only just occurred to me. “But it also means he can’t see what we’re going to do next.”
“Hah.” Murdoch’s chuckle held no humor. “He’s not the only one. What happened with the New Council captain?”
“She’s in a tough spot. Basically, she has to wait for Serat before she can leave. And I don’t think she likes the Q’Chn.”
He frowned, thinking. “Can we use that?”
“Possibly.”
He drew his hand over his face slowly, as if he wanted to take it off. I’d seen Murdoch lose people before and it drained him in a way I was only starting to comprehend. We’d lost so many people during the Seouras blockade. I couldn’t let that start again.
I squeezed his arm. He looked at me in surprise, then half smiled. And not a whisper from Henoit.
“What are you doing in here?” I said. I’d nearly asked Murdoch if he was coming to see me, then realized if he was coming to see anyone, it would be Stone.
“Passing through to Main Security.”
“Wait a bit.” I looked at Veatch, who was ostentatiously busy at his console. “Veatch, please notify Mr. Stone, Mr. Florida, and the chief magistrate that there’ll be an emergency meeting in five minutes in the Bubble.”
Veatch tapped a phrase in a handcom. “In the main briefing room?”
“Sounds good.”
“What are you doing?” said Murdoch.
“We need to coordinate ourselves,” I said. “If we want to get rid of the Q’Chn.”
He looked at me in a way that reminded me of his early days on the station, when I’d occasionally catch his astonished gaze on me. Then he nodded.
“Let’s do it, then.”
We walked down the corridor together, saying nothing. His face was somber, his eyes looked inward.
The fear I’d felt for Murdoch when he faced the Q’Chn lay close to the surface of my mind, waiting to grip me again. I didn’t know if I could handle this.
This was why senior officers shouldn’t become involved with each other. If, in a crisis, I first thought of Murdoch, what kind of an officer would I be? You’re no kind of officer, was the reply. You resigned from ConFleet. You’re a political asylum applicant, a refugee on your own world. Both in this century and the last. Hah, there’s irony for you.
The briefing room in the Bubble had been redecorated. It now boasted a state-of-the-art table, recliners, and chairs adaptable to all species, and a self-service multi-beverage dispenser. As we were all humanoid, we huddled down at the plain, flat end of the table and used the chairs. As this was Jocasta, the beverage dispenser would serve only tea.
Murdoch, Sasaki, Gamet, Lorna deVries, Rupert Stone, Florida, and Veatch were present. I hoped I wouldn’t regret asking Florida, but we needed him to keep the delegates up to date so we didn’t have to invite them.
We started the meeting with Murdoch’s terse description of the Q’Chn attack in front of the Alpha Trade Hall. As he spoke, the atmosphere in the room became heavier. Stone’s pale face was leeched further of any color and Lorna’s normally twinkling eyes were like hard black stones.
Gamet then gave us a brief status report on the opsys— stable but fragile. The engineers had been allowed to work undisturbed in the core. “We didn’t see any Q’Chn,” she said. “We saw one New Council guard, but he had orders to let us through. He stood over us the whole time.”
“The Q’Chn were in Alpha,” grunted Murdoch. “That’s why you didn’t see any.” He was calm in the way a star was calm before flashing nova.
“I’ve called this meeting because we need to get the Q’Chn off the station now,” I said into the silence that followed his words. “We need to coordinate the departments.”
“What authority do you have to do this?”
Stone hadn’t said anything until now. I’d been thinking ahead and his interjection took me by surprise.
Lorna spoke before I could get my thoughts in order. “Security applied for her temporary release on bail. I approved.” She leaned forward so she could raise her eyebrow across the table at Stone as though he were a hostile witness.
“Yes, but she has no position here. She resigned her commission,” he said. Looking at each of them except Gamet, “You heard her. At the dinner.”
Murdoch blew out his breath in impatience. Finish this, will you? his look to me said.
“I don’t dispute your authority,” I said. “Yes, I resigned my commission and maybe we can argue whether that resignation has been formally ratified or not. You remain head of station. Right now we need to work together, regardless of position.”
“Then as head of station, surely it’s my call what we do in the present situation,” said Stone.
“Which is?” said Florida.
Murdoch rested his forehead on his hands and stared at nothing.
Stone aligned the two handcoms in front of him with the edge of the desk. “I, er, favor waiting until ConFleet breaks through the jump point. They’ll overcome the enemy ships and won’t have any trouble mopping up the enemy here. If the New Council stays, I think they’ll run away as soon as ConFleet gets through.”
“I don’t agree,” I said. “The New Council captain is capable of using station residents as hostages and trying to bargain her way out with ConFleet. If they come.”
Stone looked up from his handcom. “Of course they’ll come.”
“They didn’t come last time,” said Sasaki. “Sir.”
There was a short silence, broken by Lorna pushing her cup precisely in front of her on the table like somebody making a chess move.
“Halley’s still governor,” she said. “That position has to be revised by an independent review committee. Its authority overrides head of station. Hell, theoretically she can give orders to ConFleet commanders within the Abelar system.”
“Didn’t work with Vengeful ’s captain,” I said.
She smiled. “I did say ‘theoretically.’ ”
“Everyone here,” I said to Stone, “has tried waiting for ConFleet. We can’t afford to make that mistake again. And soon we might not be part of the Confederacy. Who’s going to help us then?”
“That’s why neutrality is such a bad...” he began.
“The issue now is how to get rid of the Q’Chn.” Murdoch let his hands fall on the shiny tabletop with a loud thud. “I assume you want suggestions?” he said to me.
“Yes.”
“Kill them,” he said expressionlessly. “Now.” His hands spread flat on the table, the fingertips bloodless from the pressure.
Sasaki, Florida, and Gamet nodded. Veatch showed no sign of dissent, not even a twitch of one antenna. Lorna’s face stilled as she calculated something mentally. Stone opened his mouth but Lorna beat him to it.
“You can’t kill them all,” she said. “There must be at least fifteen out there in Vengeful and the small ships. We’ve seen three onstation.”
“They can’t bring any more onstation, or they weaken their defense at the jump point,” said Murdoch. “I think we can deal with the ones here ourselves and not worry about the others.”
“Unless there are more on the New Council ship,” said Florida, then to Stone and me, “Did you see any more up there?”
We both
shook our heads. “What information do we have about them?” I asked. “Veatch, did you get anything more from Trillith?”
“Unfortunately, I did not,” said Veatch. “However, based on my own observations, collated and compared with the observations of others, it appears that these are part of the first group cloned by the New Council. They seem to have a loose hierarchy, possibly based on physical strength and/or experience.”
“What’s the time frame here?” said Murdoch. “The history files say the Slashers live about seventy years. How long do they take to mature?”
“True,” said Lorna. “It can’t be that long since the New Council got hold of the genetic material. Two, three years? Earth years, I mean.”
“K’Cher have a short initial maturation period,” said Veatch. “Then a long stable life before they Change. I am not sure, but I believe they reach half their final body size in approximately one and a half of your years.”
“If the Q’Chn are the same, then the ones we have here could still be immature,” said Lorna.
“I bet they learn fast,” grunted Murdoch. “They’d have to, to be any use as weapons.”
“I don’t know how it fits in,” said Sasaki, “but over the past hour there’s been a lot of communication between Vengeful and the New Council ship in dock here. And movement of small ships between Vengeful and the jump point.”
“Can we tell what the Q’Chn on Vengeful are saying to Venner?” said Murdoch.
She shook her head. “Not yet. The Bubble team are trying to decode that message now. Or cleaning it up, something like that.”
“How do you intend killing the indestructible?” said Gamet. She leaned two of her handcoms together to make a tent. “Do we have some new weapon? Biological maybe?”
Murdoch cleared his throat. “Not exactly.”
Sasaki’s fingers tapped on the edge of the table and she glanced from Murdoch to me.
“We’re thinking of a powerful explosion,” said Murdoch. “In one of the reinforced storage bays.”
A chorus of dismayed murmurs greeted this. Veatch’s antennae stiffened.
“A concussive explosion,” said Murdoch. “The shock wave will be magnified in the enclosed space and it’ll destroy their internal organs even if the exoskeletons can survive.” There was no vindictiveness in his tone, merely a satisfaction with details. “We’ll use the new fire extinguisher system, attach the outlet pipes to disperse atomized flammable liquid. We’ve already assembled a small incendiary explosive which will then detonate the mist, followed by the containers of fuel already there.”
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