by David Weber
"None beyond detection, sir. I have received no challenges, nor has anyone yet responded to my hails."
Colin nodded. It was a disappointment, for he'd felt a spurt of hope when he saw all those light codes, but it was a relief, as well. At least no one was shooting at them.
"What the hell are all those things?" he demanded.
"Unknown, sir. Passive scanners detect very few active power sources, and even with fold-space scanners, the range remains very long for active systems, but I would estimate that many of them are weapon systems. In fact-"
The computer paused suddenly, and Colin quirked an eyebrow. It was unusual, to say the least, for Dahak to break off in the middle of a sentence.
"Sir," the computer said after a moment, "I have determined the function of certain installations."
An arc of light codes blinked green. They formed a ring forty light-minutes from Bia-no, not a ring. As he watched, new codes, each indicating an installation much smaller than the giants in the original ring, began to appear, precisely distanced from the circle, curving away from Dahak as if to embrace the entire inner system. And there-there were two more rings of larger symbols, perpendicular to the first but offset by thirty degrees. There were thousands-millions-of the things! And more were still appearing as they came into scanner range, reaching out about Bia in a sphere.
"Well? What are they?"
"They appear, sir," Dahak said, "to be shield generators."
"They're what?" Colin blurted, and he felt Vlad Chernikov's shock echoing through the engineering sub-net.
"Shield generators," Dahak repeated, "which, if activated, would enclose the entire inner system. The larger stations are approximately ten times as massive as the smaller ones and appear to be the primary generators."
Colin fought a sense of incredulity. Nobody could build a shield with that much surface area! Yet if Dahak said they were shield generators, shield generators they were... but the scope of such a project!
"Whatever else it was, the Empire was no piker," he muttered.
"As thou sayst," Jiltanith agreed. "Yet methinks-"
"Status change," Dahak said suddenly, and a bright-red ring circled a massive installation in distant orbit about Birhat itself. "Core tap activation detected."
"Maker!" Tamman muttered, for the power source which had waked to sudden life was many times as powerful as Dahak's own.
"New detection at nine-point-eight light-hours. I have a challenge."
"Nature?" Colin snapped.
"Query for identification only, sir, but it carries a Fleet Central imperative. It is repeating."
"Respond."
"Acknowledged." There was another brief silence, and then Dahak spoke again, sounding-for once-a bit puzzled. "Sir, the challenge has terminated."
"What do you mean? How did they respond?"
"They did not, sir, beyond terminating the challenge."
Colin raised an eyebrow at Jiltanith's holo-image, and she shrugged.
"Ask me not, my Colin. Thou knowest as much as I."
"Yeah, and neither of us knows a whole hell of a lot," he muttered. Then he drew a deep breath. "Dahak, give me an all-hands link."
"Acknowledged. Link open."
"People," Colin told his crew, "we've just responded to a challenge-apparently from Fleet Central itself-and no one's shooting at us. That's the good news. The bad news is no one's talking to us, either. We're moving in. We'll keep you informed. But at least there's something here. Hang loose.
"Close link, Dahak."
"Link closed, sir."
"Thank you," Colin said, and leaned back, rubbing his hands up and down the arm rests of his couch as he stared at the crowded, enigmatic display. More light codes were still appearing as Dahak moved deeper in-system, and the active core tap's crimson beacon pulsed at their center like a heart.
"Well, we found it," Colin said, rising from the captain's couch to stretch hugely, "but God knows what it is."
"Aye." Jiltanith once more manned her own console in Command Two, but her hologram sat up and swung its legs over the side of her couch. "I know not what chanced here, my Colin, but glad am I Geb is not here to see it."
"Amen," Colin said. He'd once wondered why Geb was the only Imperial with a single-syllable name. Now, thanks to Jiltanith and Dahak's files, he knew. It was the custom of his planet, for Geb had been one of those very rare beings in Battle Fleet: a native-born son of Birhat. It was a proud distinction, but one Geb no longer boasted of; his part in the mutiny had been something like George Washington's grandson proclaiming himself king of the United States.
"But whate'er hath chanced, these newest facts do seem stranger still than aught else we have encountered." Jiltanith coiled a lock of hair about her index finger and stared at Command Two's visual display, her eyes perplexed.
With good reason, Colin thought. In the last thirty-two hours, they'd threaded deeper into the Bia System's incredible clutter of deep-space and orbital installations until, at last, they'd reached Birhat itself. There should have been plenty of room, but the Bia System had not escaped unscathed. Twice they passed within less than ten thousand kilometers of drifting derelicts, and that was much closer than any astrogator cared to come.
Yet despite that evidence of ruin, Colin had felt hopeful as Birhat herself came into sight, for the ancient capital world of the Imperium was alive, a white-swirled sapphire whose land masses were rich and green.
But with the wrong kind of green.
Colin sat back down, scratching his head. Birhat lay just over a light-minute further from Bia than Terra did from Sol, and its axial tilt was about five degrees greater, making for more extreme seasons, but it had been a nice enough place. It still was, but there'd been a few changes.
According to the records, Birhat's trees should be mostly evergreens, but while there were trees, they appeared exclusively deciduous, and there were other things: leafy, fern-like things and strange, kilometer-long creepers with cypress-knee rhizomes and upstanding plumes of foliage. Nothing like that was supposed to grow on Birhat, and the local fauna was even worse.
Like Earth, Birhat had belonged to the mammals, and there were mammals down there, if not the right ones. Unfortunately, there were other things, too, especially in the equatorial belt. One was nearly a dead ringer for an under-sized Stegosaurus, and another one (a big, nasty looking son-of-a-bitch) seemed to combine the more objectionable aspects of Tyrannosaurus and a four-horned Triceratops. Then there were the birds. None of them seemed quite right, and he knew the big Pterodactyl-like raptors shouldn't be here.
It was, he thought, the most God-awful, scrambled excuse for a bio-system he'd ever heard of, and none of it-not a single plant, animal, saurian, or bird they'd yet examined-belonged here.
If it puzzled him, it was driving Cohanna batty. The senior biosciences officer was buried in her office with Dahak, trying to make sense of her instrument readings and snarling at any soul incautious enough to disturb her.
At least the sadly-eroded mountains and seas were where they were supposed to be, loosely speaking, and there were still some clusters of buildings. They were weather-battered ruins (not surprisingly given the worn-away look of the mountain ranges) liberally coated in greenery, but they were there. Not that it helped; most were as badly wrecked as Keerah's had been, and there was nothing-absolutely nothing-where Fleet Central was supposed to be.
Yet some of the Bia System's puzzles offered Colin hope. One of them floated a few thousand kilometers from Dahak, serenely orbiting the improbability which had once been the Imperium's capital, and he turned his head to study it anew, tugging at the end of his nose to help himself think.
The enigmatic structure was even bigger than Dahak, which was a sobering thought, for a quarter of Dahak's colossal tonnage was committed to propulsion. This thing-whatever it was-clearly wasn't intended to move, which made all of its mass available for other things. Like the weapon systems Dahak's scanners had picked up. Lots of weap
on systems. Missile launchers, energy weapons, and launch bays for fighters and sublight parasites Nergal's size or bigger. Yet for all its gargantuan firepower, much of its tonnage was obviously committed to something else... but what?
Worse, it was also the source of the core tap Dahak had detected. Even now, that energy sink roared away within it, sucking in all that tremendous power. Presumably it meant to do something with it, but as yet it had shown no signs of exactly what that was. It hadn't even spoken to Dahak, despite his polite queries for information. It just sat there, being there.
"Captain?"
"Yes, Dahak?"
"I believe I have determined the function of that installation."
"Well?"
"I believe, sir, that it is Fleet Central."
"I thought Fleet Central was on the planet!"
"So it was, fifty-one thousand years ago. I have, however, been carrying out systematic scans, and I have located the installation's core computer. It is, indeed, a combination of energy-state and solid-state engineering. It is also approximately three-hundred-fifty-point-two kilometers in diameter."
"Eeep!" Colin whipped around to stare at Jiltanith, but for once she looked as stunned as he felt. Dear God, he thought faintly. Dear, sweet God. If Vlad and Dahak's projections about the capabilities of energy-state computer science were correct, that thing was... it was...
"I beg your pardon, sir?" Dahak said courteously.
"Uh... never mind. Continue your report."
"There is very little more to report. The size of its computer core, coupled with its obvious defensive capability, indicates that it must, at the very least, have been the central command complex for the Bia System. Given that Birhat remained the capital of the Empire as it had been of the Imperium, this certainly suggests that it was also Fleet Central."
"I... see. And it still isn't responding to your hails?"
"It is not. And even the Empire's computers should have noticed us by now."
"Could it have done so and chosen to ignore us?"
"The possibility exists, but while it is probable Fleet procedures have changed, we were challenged and we did reply. That should have initiated an automatic request for data core transmission from any newly-arrived unit."
"Even if there's no human crew aboard?"
"Sir," Dahak said with the patience of one trying not to be insubordinate to a dense superior, "we were challenged, which indicates the initiation of an automatic sequence of some sort. And, sir, Fleet Central should not have permitted a vessel of Dahak's size and firepower to close to this proximity without assuring itself that the vessel in question truly was what it claimed to be. Since no information has been exchanged, there is no way Fleet Central could know my response to its challenge was genuine. Hence we should at the very least be targeted by its weapons until we provide a satisfactory account of ourselves, yet that installation has not even objected to my scanning it. Fleet Central would never permit an unknown unit to do that."
"All right, I'll accept that-even if that does seem to be exactly what it's doing-and God knows I don't want to piss it off, but sooner or later we'll have to get some sort of response out of it. Any suggestions?"
"As I have explained," Dahak said even more patiently, "we should already have elicited a response."
"I know that," Colin replied, equally patiently, "but we haven't. Isn't there any sort of emergency override procedure?"
"No, sir, there is not. None was ever required."
"Damn it, do you mean to tell me there's no way to talk to it if it doesn't respond to your hails?"
There was a pause lengthy enough to raise Colin's eyebrows. He was about to repeat his question when his electronic henchman finally answered.
"There might be one way," Dahak said with such manifest reluctance Colin felt an instant twinge of anxiety.
"Well, spit it out!"
"We might attempt physical access, but I would not recommend doing so."
"What? Why not?"
"Because, Captain, access to Fleet Central was highly restricted. Without express instructions from its command crew to its security systems, only two types of individuals might demand entrance without being fired upon."
"Oh?" Colin felt a sudden queasiness and was quite pleased he'd managed to sound so calm. "And what two types might that be?"
"Flag officers and commanders of capital ships of Battle Fleet."
"Which means..." Colin said slowly.
"Which means," Dahak told him, "that the only member of this crew who might make the attempt is you."
He looked up and saw Jiltanith staring at him in horror.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They went to their quarters to argue.
Jiltanith opened her mouth, eyes flashing dangerously, but Dahak's electronic reflexes beat her to it.
"Senior Fleet Captain MacIntyre," he said with icy formality, "what you propose is not yet and may never become necessary, and I remind you of Fleet Regulation Nine-One-Seven, Subsection Three-One, Paragraph Two: 'The commander of any Fleet unit shall safeguard the chain of command against unnecessary risk.' I submit, sir, that your intentions violate both the spirit and letter of this regulation, and I must, therefore, respectfully insist that you immediately abandon this ill-advised, hazardous, and most unwise plan."
"Dahak," Colin said, "shut up."
"Senior Fl-"
"I said shut up," Colin repeated in a dangerously level voice, and Dahak shut up. "Thank you. Now. We both know the people who wrote the Fleet Regs never envisioned this situation, but if you want to quote regs, here's one for you. Regulation One-Three, Section One. 'In the absence of orders from higher authority, the commander of any Battle Fleet unit or formation shall employ his command or any sub-unit or member thereof in the manner best calculated, in his considered judgment, to preserve the Imperium and his race.' You once said I had a command mentality. Well, maybe I do and maybe I don't, but this is a command decision and you're damned well going to live with it."
"But-"
"The discussion is closed, Dahak."
There was a long moment of silence before the computer replied.
"Acknowledged," he said in his frostiest tones, but Colin knew that was the easy part. He smiled crookedly at Jiltanith, glad they were alone, and gave it his best shot.
"'Tanni, I don't want to argue with my XO, either."
"Dost'a not, indeed?" she flared. "Then contend with thy wife, lackwit! Scarce one thin day in this system, and already thou wouldst risk thy life?! What maggot hath devoured thy brain entire?! Or mayhap 'tis vanity speaks, for most assuredly 'tis not wisdom!"
"It isn't vanity, and you know it. We simply don't have time to waste."
"Time, thou sayst?!" she spat like an angry cat. "Dost'a think my wits addled as thine own? Howsoe'er thou dost proceed, yet will we never return to Terra ere the Achuultani scouts! And if that be so, then where's the need o' witless haste? Four months easily, mayhap five, may we spend here and still out-speed the true incursion back to Earth-and well thou knowest!"
"All right," he said, and her eyes narrowed at his unexpected agreement, "but assume you're right and we start poking around. What happens when we do something Fleet Central doesn't like, 'Tanni? Until we know what it might object to, we can't know what might get everyone aboard this ship killed. So until we establish communications with it, we can't do anything else, either!"
Jiltanith's fingers flexed like the cat she so resembled, but she drew a breath and made herself consider his argument.
"Aye, there's summat in that," she admitted, manifestly against her will. "Yet still 'tis true we have spent but little time upon the task. Must thou so soon essay this madness?"
"I'm afraid so," he sighed. "If this is Fleet Central, it's either Ali Baba's Cave or Pandora's Box, and we have to find out which. Assuming any of Battle Fleet's still operational-and the way this thing powered itself up is the first sign something may be-we don't know how long it'll take to assemble it. We
need every minute we can buy, 'Tanni."
She turned away, pacing, arms folded beneath her breasts, shoulders tight with a fear Colin knew was not for herself. He longed to tell her he understood, but he knew better than to... and that she knew already.
She turned back to him at last, eyes shadowed, and he knew he'd won.
"Aye," she sighed, hugging him tightly and pressing her face into his shoulder. "My heart doth rail against it, yet my mind-my cursed mind-concedeth. But, oh, my dearest dear, would I might forbid thee this!"
"I know," he whispered into the sweet-smelling silk of her hair.
Colin felt like an ant beneath an impending foot. Fleet Central's armored flank seemed to trap him, ready to crush him between itself and the blue-white sphere of Birhat, and he hoped Cohanna wasn't monitoring his bio read-outs.