by Timothy Zahn
Bronski smiled tightly as he took the cards. "Not bad," he said approvingly. "Not bad at all. Kolchin, you're driving. Let's get back to the ship."
They had left the capital's central district and were in sight of the spaceport tower when Bronski looked up from his plate. "You did it, Cavanagh," he said with a grim satisfaction. "Here it is:Puvkit Tru Kai -the Garden Of The Mad Stonewright. Two months ago it was a public park and recreational area."
"Suddenly closed for renovation?" Kolchin asked.
"Nothing so obvious," Bronski said. "It's still listed. Only it's listed at the wrong place."
Cavanagh blinked. "Come again?"
"They've changed its location," Bronski said. "Or, rather, its alleged location. What they're calling the Garden now is a fairly minor group of rock formations about two hundred kilometers farther north. Close enough to the real one that most people looking at the brochure won't even notice the difference; far enough away that any visitors will be safely out of the way of whatever's happening there."
"So what's our next move?" Cavanagh asked.
"We take a closer look at the real Garden, of course," Bronski said, fiddling with the controls of his plate. "Let's see. We'll take the ship over to Douvremrom-that's about three hours away if we go suborbital. Then another three hours by rented aircar, and we'll be there."
Cavanagh frowned over the brigadier's shoulder. Three hours by aircar was a pretty healthy distance. "Aren't there any closer spaceports?"
"Of course there are," Bronski said, turning off his plate and sliding it back inside his jacket. "The Garden's got one of its own, in fact. What's convenient about Douvremrom is that it's listed on this other card as the home of one of Valloittaja's kinsmen."
"Ah." Cavanagh nodded understanding. "Which means that if anyone's bothering to track our movements, they should conclude we're going there to see him."
"Oh, they'll be tracking us, all right," Bronski said. "If not now, then the minute we cross whatever invisible circle they've drawn around the Garden and their little Conquerors Without Reason project."
And there would be Bhurtala waiting for them in the darkness.... "What do we do then?" he asked, suppressing a shiver.
"We'll go with standard procedure," Bronski said. "We find out what we can and get the hell out."
"Always nice to have a plan," Cavanagh murmured.
"Don't worry about it," Bronski soothed him. "In a pinch I've still got that fake red card I used on you back in Mig-Ka City. It would take a pretty high-level Mrachani not to be intimidated by that."
Cavanagh grimaced. "High-level Mrachanis like Valloittaja, for instance?"
"Well, yes," Bronski conceded. "There is that."
19
Most of the Yycroman freighters had reached their prescribed positions well within that first hour. With their drives cut they were drifting now, the nearer ones discernible only by the gaps they made in the starfield beyond, the farther ones not even that visible. A handful of drive trails still blazed as last-minute additions to the defense force scrambled to get to their places. Beneath the drive trails Phormbi's nightside had become an unrelieved black as the scattered clusters of Yycroman settlements shut down lights and power sources to deny the enemy such obvious targeting indicators.
The battle lines were drawn. And the Conquerors were on their way.
"Looks like they're about ready out there," Daschka commented over his shoulder. "Are we?"
"As ready as we can be," Cho Ming said. "Power output is at minimum, sensor-stealthing is fully operational, and I've got all sensors and recorders running."
"Conquerors' ETA?"
"Anytime now," Cho Ming said. "We'll get about ten seconds' warning when they start their mesh-in, but that's about it. A ship this size just hasn't got enough hull for a wake-trail detector that'll work on close-in targets."
The flight deck fell silent again. Seated in the copilot seat where he would have a better view of the approaching battle, Aric gazed out the canopy, listening to his heart pounding in his ears. There was a gentle thud against the side of the ship, and he jerked violently against his restraints before realizing that theHappenstance had merely brushed against one of the slowly rotating asteroid fragments they were nestled up against.
"Take it easy, Cavanagh," Daschka said quietly from beside him. "You don't want to burn out all that tension before things even get started."
"Sorry." Aric exhaled, the breath vibrating through his mouth. "I was hoping to be a little calmer than this."
"A little calmer might be nice," Daschka agreed. "But don't overdo it. A certain amount of tension's normal in combat situations. It's good for you-keeps your senses and reflexes sharp."
"Okay-here we go," Cho Ming spoke up. "Mesh-in in ten seconds."
"Double-check the recorders," Daschka ordered, flexing his fingers once and resting them in ready position on his control board. "What about that big unidentified ship?"
"It's still coming," Cho Ming said. "And still unidentified. Two, one-"
And suddenly they were there, meshing in in rapid succession: the conglomerations of thick milky-white hexagons that were the unique design of Conqueror warships.
"I make the count six," Daschka said, peering out the canopy and adjusting its magnification. "Regrouping into probably a battle formation. Where are the rest?"
"They meshed in a hair too soon," Cho Ming said. "I make five ships about fifteen thousand klicks back."
Daschka grunted. "Backup."
Aric grimaced. As if they really needed more than six ships against the Yycromae.
The Conqueror ships finished their maneuvering, and for a long moment nothing happened. Almost as if, Aric thought, both sides were sizing up their opponents. Then, abruptly, drive trails blazed as a dozen Yycroman freighters surged toward the enemy.
"Yycromae ships engaging," Cho Ming reported tightly. "Looks like they're firing shredder-burst guns."
"They're old Celadonese models," Aric said. "I saw a lot of them in the conversion hangar."
"Probably the easiest things they could get their hands on," Daschka said. "Not much use against Zhirrzh hulls, though."
From one of the Conqueror ships a laser beam lanced out, its path dimly marked by ionized upper-atmosphere atoms and vaporized shredder-burst projectiles. One of the Yycroman freighters flashed brilliantly, its drive trail suddenly waggling like the tail feathers of a wounded bird. Two more lasers fired from different hexagons of the same ship, and with two more flashes the drive trail flicked out.
As if that were the signal everyone had been waiting for, the other Conqueror ships opened fire, and for a handful of agonizing heartbeats the black of space flared as the Yycroman freighters flamed into instant death pyres for their crews. Another dozen drive trails appeared as a second group of ships joined the battle, and then another group, and then another. The Conquerors' lasers flashed in response, systematically tracking and destroying the defenders.
And then, as quickly as it had begun, the last of the drive trails was cut off, and it was over.
Supreme Commander Prm-jevev flicked his tongue in perplexity, gazing at each of the displays in turn. "You're absolutely certain?" he demanded again of the cloud of Elders hovering around him.
"There's no doubt at all, Supreme Commander," one of them said again. "Within range of our anchorlines, that's all that's out there."
Another Elder appeared, joining the group. " 'What's going on?' " he demanded. " 'Supreme Commander Prm-jevev, report.' "
Prm-jevev flicked his tongue in annoyance. He'd forgotten what it was like to be at this end of the battle-communication pathway, taking valuable time to describe what was happening to the rest of Warrior Command. "We've just repulsed an attack by a group of small spacecraft," he said. "Extremely small, with virtually no weaponry at all. There are many others in the area, with equally weak weaponry."
The Elder nodded and vanished. "Check the area again," Prm-jevev ordered, looking up at the other Elders
. "Order the other warships to spread out a little. This makes no sense at all."
The Elder reappeared. "Speaker Cvv-panav: 'What are you waiting for? Destroy them and launch your ground attack.' "
Prm-jevev flicked his tongue in contempt. That was the Speaker for Dhaa'rr, all right, his slash-tongue attitude blazingly obvious even without the Elder's identification. "I'm waiting, Speaker, because these are clearly not the Human-Conqueror warships we were led to expect," he said tartly. "I have no interest in laying a world waste just for the exercise of it."
The Elder nodded and was gone. "Supreme Commander?" one of the warriors called across the command/monitor room. "Messages are coming in via direct link from the other warships. Their commanders want to know when we will attack."
"When I give the order," Prm-jevev growled. "Until then they are to fire only in defense of themselves."
The Elder was back. "Speaker Cvv-panav: 'Your principles are admirable, Supreme Commander. But they have no place in warfare. If the Human-Conquerors plan a trap, you are merely playing into their snare.' "
A second Elder flicked in. "The Overclan Prime: 'Have you determined there are no warships waiting on the surface or hidden behind the planet itself?' "
"There's nothing on the surface our telescopes can detect," Prm-jevev said, deciding that Speaker Cvv-panav's comment wasn't worth a reply. "As to the horizon, the answer is also no. I dropped part of my force a distance behind me, in a position where they could see the parts of the planetary far side, which we cannot."
The Elder vanished. "More incoming spacecraft, Supreme Commander," a warrior called.
Prm-jevev nodded. "Repulse their attack," he ordered.
"I obey."
The warriors and Elders set about their work... and the Supreme Commander settled down to watch. And to try to figure out what exactly was going on here.
With an effort Aric forced moisture into his mouth. His hands, he noticed suddenly, were gripped rigidly around his restraint straps. "They haven't got a chance," he whispered. "Not a chance."
"It's not looking good," Daschka admitted. "Were shredder-bursts all they had?"
Aric took a deep breath. The Conqueror ships were just sitting there, waiting with arrogant patience for the Yycromae to decide which of them would be next to sacrifice themselves. "No," he said, forcing his mind to unfreeze from the horror he'd just witnessed. "No, they also had some Nadezhdan space-to-space missiles-Deathknell XIIs, I think they were-and some NorCoord 110 mm cannon. They had some weapons of their own design, too."
"They were using some pretty good stuff back when we first ran into them," Daschka said. "Let's hope they've still-there they go."
A new group of drive trails had appeared, perhaps fifty of them this time, driving with suicidal directness toward the Conqueror ships. "Opening up with the 110 mm cannon," Cho Ming reported. "Looks like... well, I'll be damned."
"What?" Daschka asked.
"That first assault wave wasn't as useless as I thought," Cho Ming said, sounding impressed. "This group's doing some bull's-eye targeting on the laser ports that fired on the last group."
Aric stared out the canopy as the Conqueror ships belatedly began returning fire. "They sacrificed themselves just to pinpoint the laser ports?"
"Looks that way," Daschka agreed. "I told you this would be a battle worth recording."
The exchange this time lasted a little longer. But only a little, and in the end the Yycroman offensive was once again quashed with little trouble. "Any damage to the Conquerors?" Daschka asked.
"Hard to tell," Cho Ming said. "But it looks like they had ten or fifteen of their lasers put out of commission."
The words were barely out of his mouth when another group of Yycroman drive trails blazed to life. "Third wave away," Cho Ming announced. "Directing more cannon fire against the laser ports." The Conqueror lasers fired in reply, and once again the night was lit by vaporized Yycroman freighters-
"Fourth wave!" Cho Ming barked. "Cutting in behind the third. I'm getting missile-arming signals... there they go."
Aric squinted out the canopy. The drive trails themselves were almost lost in the sputtering flashes; but he could occasionally catch glimpses of faint secondary trails as the Deathknell missiles shot outward from the Yycroman defenders. The lasers shifted direction toward this new threat, and smaller flashes began to appear where they found their targets. Aric gripped his restraints....
And suddenly a flash of acrid blue-white light blossomed on the side of one of the Conqueror ships.
"Got one!" Aric blurted, slamming his fist down on the edge of the control board, the recoil bouncing him up against his restraints.
"Steady," Daschka advised him. "Let's see if it did any damage before you break out the champagne. Cho Ming?"
"Can't tell yet," the other said. "Too much after-scintillation. It's sure as hell gotten them riled up, though."
Aric nodded silently, his elation of a few seconds earlier crushed back down to reality. The Conqueror ships were blazing with laser fire now, the Yycroman defenders flashing to plasma and shrapnel all around them. In the midst of the slaughter two more of the Deathknells got through, and two more blue-white fireballs briefly silhouetted the sharp hexagonal edges of the Conqueror ships. But if the blasts caused any damage, it wasn't obvious from where Aric sat.
Or even from where Cho Ming sat. "I don't read any damage from the Deathknell blasts," the Intelligence man reported with a sigh. "If there is any, it must be negligible."
"So much for the missiles," Daschka said. "So much for the Yycromae, too. You got any more good news?"
"Plenty," Cho Ming said. "Those five ships we thought might be hanging back? They've kicked into gear and are on their way."
Aric shook his head in horrified disbelief. "How many ships do they think theyneed to take this place?"
"Maybe they're not planning to take it," Daschka suggested darkly. "Maybe Phormbi's going to be a special sort of object lesson."
Aric gazed out at the laser flashes, a cold chill running through him. That other incoming ship, with a wake-trail like nothing Cho Ming had ever seen... "You suppose that's what that unidentified ship is for?" he asked. "Something to-I don't know-burn off the planet, maybe?"
"I still say it's Yycroman," Daschka insisted. But the stubbornness had an edge of uncertainty to it now.
"We'll find out soon enough," Cho Ming said grimly. "ETA's something around fifteen minutes."
"About the same time those other five warships will get here?" Daschka asked.
"Just about."
And at the rate these first six ships were going, Aric knew, fifteen minutes would be all they would need to eliminate the rest of the Yycroman defenders, leaving the planet wide-open before them. "Are we still going to stay?" he asked, though he knew what the answer would be.
"As long as we can." Daschka threw him a gruffly sympathetic glance. "There's no reason you have to watch this, though. If it gets too bad, you can go back to your cabin. Cho Ming, what's this going on now?"
With an effort Aric focused his attention back on the carnage of the battle zone. Amid the flashing lasers the current wave of Yycroman ships was rapidly dwindling, but now another fifty or so drive trails had appeared behind them. Again he could half imagine he saw missile trails lancing out ahead of them-
"Cho Ming?" Daschka repeated.
"You got me," the other said, sounding puzzled. "They're firing something, all right, but I can't get anything on it. Almost reads like some kind of stealthed missiles-"
"There!" Aric snapped, pointing out the canopy. On one of the Conqueror ships a splash of white light had appeared.
He paused, frowning, finger still pointed. The white flash wasn't expanding as an explosion ought to. Or fading away, either, for that matter. "Whatis that?"
"Whatever it is, they've landed six more of them," Daschka said, frowning. "Four more on the port hexagon of that ship, and one each on the two ships to starboard. Come on, Cho Ming,
look alive."
"I'm working on it, I'm working on it," Cho Ming growled. "The albedo's incredibly high-maybe they're some kind of targeting markers. Let me try this..."
His voice trailed off into the soft clicking of keys. Aric gazed out the canopy, catching sight of three more white explosions as they appeared against the lead ship and froze in place. If they were targeting markers, there ought to be missiles firing in right behind them. But so far, nothing.
And then, from behind him, came a sound that sounded suspiciously like a strangled-off laugh. "I don't believe it," Cho Ming said. "Daschka, get this: it's paint."