Anvil Of Stars Part 58

"We could put a name on what we're going to try," Ariel said. "We could call it genocide."

"Bolsh," Cham said.

"The potential for this is in the Law," Hakim said. "We have sworn to uphold the Law. I belieye it possible the Benefactors knew Killer civilizations might hide behind such screens, and worded the Law-"

"We're way beyond our limits," Ariel said. "I did not travel this far to kill innocents."

Hakim calmly persisted. "It is probable some Killers remain here."

"We haven't seen them!" Ariel shouted. Martin felt a pleasant tremor at her return to form; perversely, he found her more appealing.

"It was inevitable," Hakim persisted. "No villain comes in black, screaming obscenities. All evil has children, homes, regard for self, fear of enemies."

"I did not agree to kill innocents!" Ariel shouted. She spread her arms, opened her fists. "I don't care what the moms do, or what they don't tell us."

"You've been a bit strong about the moms all along," Cham said. "I don't think they're holding anything back. They're building new weapons, showing us how to use them-"

"Ah, bolsh, yourself!" Ariel said, face wrinkled in disgust. "I thought some of you would have the brains to figure it out."

"What?" Hakim asked.

"The moms aren't inventing inventing new weapons! They're not suddenly discovering new principles and applying them-what utter c.r.a.p!" new weapons! They're not suddenly discovering new principles and applying them-what utter c.r.a.p!"

Martin's admiration quickly turned to irritation.

"They've known about these big, impressive technologies all along," she said. "They just don't want to show their cards any more than they have to. n.o.body trusts us, n.o.body tells us more than we absolutely have to know. That's the way it's been from the beginning. If we want to believe believe we're helping them develop wonderful new toys, who's going to disabuse us? Not the moms." we're helping them develop wonderful new toys, who's going to disabuse us? Not the moms."

Martin's irritation turned on himself now. He hadn't even considered that possibility; and why not? Because there was no evidence for it; Ariel was reverting to paranoid suspicions. He preferred the direct the easier the easier approach. approach. Believe what you're told. Believe what you're told.

She curled her knees and wrapped her arms around them, again like a little girl sitting in a window, weary, disappointed by Martin, by herself. "We're getting ready to kill trillions of intelligent beings who might be innocent. We just can't take that chance, and Martin shouldn't have agreed for us."

"He's in command of this ship," Cham said.

"Not true, not true," Ariel said, closing her eyes, rubbing them, staring at Hakim sidewise. "He shares command with Eye on Sky, and the Brothers are breaking with us."

Cham looked at Martin. "She's right."

"They haven't decided yet," Martin said.

"That's what they'll decide," Cham said with resignation.

Martin's wand signaled. Eye on Sky requested a meeting.

"We have to make our own decision, whatever Hans says," Ariel concluded.

In the Brothers' quarters, Martin hung from a net beside Eye on Sky. The Brothers coiled around them, cords' skins gleaming in the offset lighting, the upraised foreparts of the braids casting shadows around Martin like a larger net. The presence of so many large serpentine shapes might have been threatening, but for him, the Brothers represented a gentleness and humanity humanity Hans didn't think they could afford. He felt no threat from them. Hans didn't think they could afford. He felt no threat from them.

Eye on Sky splayed his head and crawled along the net closer to Martin, smelling of cut gra.s.s, fresh-baked bread: smells of strength and firmness, of a.s.surance. "Listening to we our fellows on Shrike Shrike and and Greyhound, Greyhound, we we decide there is a chance to learn more, and so will act with yours." we we decide there is a chance to learn more, and so will act with yours."

"I should ask for another meeting?"

"Yes," Eye on Sky said.

Martin chewed his upper lip thoughtfully. "Do you think the Killers are still here?"

"Perhaps not possible to know."

"Some of us think we should have expected this problem from the beginning," Martin said.

"Questions without answers. Expected, not antic.i.p.ated in detail."

"We were young," Martin said.

"We all we are young, this problem is ancient. It eats we us as a sweet, with delight."

"Will you go down with me?" Martin asked. He did not say this out of cruelty; rather, as a kind of test, as if he stood in Hans' place for the moment.

"Not I we," Eye on Sky said. "We we disa.s.semble in that condition, that world. You have named it Sleep. For we us, it is a true kind of sleep. You must go for we us, if permitted."

Martin took a deep breath.

"You are disturbed?" Eye on Sky asked.

He shook his head. "No, no more than...Yes, I am," he reversed himself. "In a way, Hans is right about Leviathan. Everything we see here seems tailor-made to divide us, confuse us. If Hans is is right, and the Killers are still here..." right, and the Killers are still here..."

"Not happy," Eye on Sky said.

"They'll make us much more unhappy before they're done with us."

Hakim repeated the message several times without reply from Sleep. Martin stood behind him as he went through the procedure again, panel projected before him, fingers touching controls glowing in the air.

"Nothing still," Hakim said. "They were prompt before."

Martin nodded.

Beyond the projected control panel, small images of Leviathan's planets hung against the dark aft wall of the bridge. Blinker caught Martin's eye.

It no longer blinked. It maintained a steady sandy brown color.

"Something's changed," Martin said. He pointed to Blinker. Hakim's face darkened with excitement.

"How long does it take a light signal to reach us from Blinker?" Martin asked.

"Three hours twelve minutes," Hakim said.

"Can you play back the records?"

Hakim quickly replayed ship's memory of the planetary images until they found the precise moment when the planet had stopped its fluctuation. "Three hours ago," Hakim said.

"What else has changed?" Martin asked.

Hakim expanded the planetary images one by one: Mirror turning milky, its perfect reflectivity catching a hot moist breath; Frisbee, its edges browning like burned bread dough, the unknown "hair" shedding into s.p.a.ce; Cueball unchanged; Gopher's gleaming lights within impossibly deep caverns burning brighter, bluer, like torches.

They came to Puffball, with its immense bristling seed-like constructions. Some seeds had lifted away from the planet's surface, one, three, six of them, and more on their way. Spikes at the top of the seeds also broke free, flying outward at high speed.

"Are they attacking?" Hakim asked.

"I don't know. Pa.s.s this on the noach to Greyhound Greyhound and and Shrike Shrike."

"Done," Hakim said. A moment later, his mouth went slack. "There is no noach connection," he said. "They are not receiving. I do not know where they are."

Paola and Erin entered the bridge.

"We're in trouble," Martin said. "Hakim, pull out of orbit..."

Silken Parts pushed through the door as Hakim ordered the ship away from Sleep.

"What's happening?" Erin asked.

"We don't know, but I'm taking us out of here."

"We have a reply now," Hakim said. "From Sleep..."

Salamander's voice filled the bridge. "There have been disruptions on four of our worlds." Salamander's image appeared in flat projection. Crest pointed straight out, three eyes open, hissing loudly behind its words, the bishop vulture managed to convey its disturbance.

"We don't know what's happening," Martin said.

"There is tampering with balances. These worlds are delicate and many lives are in danger."

"We haven't communicated with our..." He couldn't finish the deceptive wording, his tongue caught in too many prevarications. He simply stared at Salamander's image. The bishop vulture lifted its crest, hissed softly.

"You are a lie and a deception," Salamander said. "We have no further need of you."

The image and voice faded. "End of transmission," Hakim said. "Still no success with noach to Greyhound Greyhound."

The rest of the crew crowded the bridge, watching the long drama play itself out over the next half hour.

The three identical planets-Pebbles One, Two, and Three-abruptly glowed dull orange, then red, then white, in sequence according to their distances from the ship. Their surfaces diffused like paint in water, glowing specks rising and falling.

"Who's doing that?" George Dempsey asked. "Them, or us?"

The seeds of Puffball twisted about as if blown in a gentle breeze. On such a scale, that simple motion spoke of immense energies.

Martin could hardly think in the ensuing babble noise. The cabin filled with Brother smells, stinging his eyes. He saw a cord scramble past him, then watched as a Brother-he could not identify which-disa.s.sembled. Silken Parts immediately began gathering up the cords, which clung to fields waving their feelers helplessly.

They didn't even know what weapons Greyhound Greyhound now possessed, or what their effects would be. One effect was obvious-the attack had been launched on many targets almost simultaneously, judging by the arrival of light-borne information at intervals determined solely by distance. That spoke to Martin of noach; and the first object to change its character had been the ma.s.sive noach station, Blinker. now possessed, or what their effects would be. One effect was obvious-the attack had been launched on many targets almost simultaneously, judging by the arrival of light-borne information at intervals determined solely by distance. That spoke to Martin of noach; and the first object to change its character had been the ma.s.sive noach station, Blinker.

What are they up to?

"I know what's happened," Ariel said just loudly enough for Martin to hear, bracing herself on a field behind him.

"What?"

"Hans has started the war without telling us."

With a momentary sense of dizziness, as if he had been through all this before, he realized she was probably right.

Hans had used them to give Greyhound Greyhound an edge. an edge.

"Then why aren't we dead?" Martin asked. His entire back p.r.i.c.kled, waiting for imminent death.

Ariel shrugged. "Give them time."

The mom and snake mother came onto the bridge. "This ship has been under steady attack for an hour, and our ability to armor against their weapons is diminishing. We a.s.sume control now. Super acceleration is called for," the mom said.

"We don't have the fuel," Martin said.

"We will convert as much as we can," the mom said.

"Can you communicate with the other ships?"

"Yes," the mom said.

"Greyhound and and Shrike?" Shrike?" Martin asked. Martin asked.

"Yes."

"Are they attacking?"

"Yes."

"You knew they would attack?"

"No."

"But you must have known...You must have known when they began!"

The mom did not reply. The volumetric fields expanded. Martin felt their mola.s.ses grip, the jerky impediment to all bodily motion.

All slowed in the mire. Martin tried to keep the threads of his attention together. He examined the bridge carefully, separating effect from true perception.

The bridge changed. Walls grew and separated them into pairs. Martin saw that Ariel would be enclosed with him. She stared at him and he turned his head away, the volumetric fields giving permission for every particle to move, move slowly.

"Can you hear me?" Ariel asked.

"Just barely."

"I think we've split up. Trojan Horse Trojan Horse."