Starfall. Part 6

"But the three survivors aren't running."

"Not from Jovian s.p.a.ce, no sir. They seem to be making for the Poole hub."

"Why there?"

Pella tapped a desk. "The war-game AIs have no idea. If they need cover they could run to one of the moons ... " She grinned. "Sir, who cares? We have twelve ships against three. We can shoot them out of the sky."

Stillich felt deeply uneasy, but he couldn't argue with that a.n.a.lysis. "Well, that's the idea, Number One. All right. Call the fleet; set up an attacking perimeter."

"Sir."

The GUTdrive surged smoothly.

Twelve ships against three. The decision to withdraw the Sol fleet to Jupiter had been a good one, Stillich thought. The hinterland of the giant planet was a dangerous, complex place, laced with strong gravitational fields, intense radiation and hazards like the Io flux tube. It was a battleground much more familiar to the defending Navy than to the attackers-and he had been impressed by the innovative thinking at a Navy college on Earth that had come up with the notion of using the black hole slingshot to pick off the rebels even before the ships had engaged. The decision to withdraw the Sol fleet to Jupiter had been a good one, Stillich thought. The hinterland of the giant planet was a dangerous, complex place, laced with strong gravitational fields, intense radiation and hazards like the Io flux tube. It was a battleground much more familiar to the defending Navy than to the attackers-and he had been impressed by the innovative thinking at a Navy college on Earth that had come up with the notion of using the black hole slingshot to pick off the rebels even before the ships had engaged.

But once he had accepted the stratagem, Stillich had argued for withdrawing all all of Earth's fleet to Jupiter or its environs, not to leave half of it mounting a futile picket fence at the incoming relativistic wave. of Earth's fleet to Jupiter or its environs, not to leave half of it mounting a futile picket fence at the incoming relativistic wave. Twelve against three. Twelve against three. It was more rea.s.suring than twelve against six had been, but Stillich was in no mood for anything less than a complete victory, an annihilation, the security of the system demanded it, and the more overwhelming the odds the better. It was more rea.s.suring than twelve against six had been, but Stillich was in no mood for anything less than a complete victory, an annihilation, the security of the system demanded it, and the more overwhelming the odds the better.

On the Freestar, Freestar, the Poole hub was already approaching, a cl.u.s.ter of Interface portals hurtling over the horizon towards the surviving rebel ships, a tangle of electric blue. the Poole hub was already approaching, a cl.u.s.ter of Interface portals hurtling over the horizon towards the surviving rebel ships, a tangle of electric blue.

"Lethe," Beya breathed. "I didn't know how beautiful it was."

Flood said softly, "The wormholes are gateways to other times, other places. They should be beautiful, like all great engineering."

Alarms chimed once more.

Beya studied her data desk. "They're closing in, dad, a dozen Navy cruisers."

"Then this is it." He clenched his fists. "Let's at least back up against the wormhole hub. Have the AIs war-game an optimal configuration-"

Beya kissed him on the cheek, a lingering gesture that still felt too brief. "Cover me."

"What?"

She turned and ran, faster than he could hope to catch her. "I told you I have an idea." And she ducked out of sight, through a hatch to the ship's spine.

A missile soared past the lifedome, and the crew ducked, involuntarily. Then there was a speckle of laser light, and the dome blister blacked itself out. Grey Morus, Flood's second in command, yelled across, "They've got our range, Flood. We're shooting back but-"

Flood's data desk chimed. The AIs had come up with a defensive configuration for the ships, lifedomes together, tails out, backed up against the Poole hub, using superhot GUTdrive exhaust for defence. "Copy this and implement," he snapped at Grey. He punched his data desk. "Beya! Where are you?"

In Beya's flitter, her father's voice was as clear as if he was riding alongside her. Beya was determined to keep her voice level. "Can't you see me, dad? I'm up around your ten o'clock-oh, but your blister is blacked out."

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing up there?"

The flitter ducked sideways, jolting her against her restraints. "I'm taking fire, that's what I'm doing. Dad, if you've got a spare laser, cover me!"

Now the flitter swept around. She was heading straight for the Poole hub, a tangle of wormhole mouths, powder blue. She saw the three ships of the invasion fleet backing up, pirouetting clumsily into their defensive position. But the Navy ships swept across her view, soulless, mechanical, spitting missiles at the rebels, bathing them with laser light. There were so many of them, a dozen against three.

And as she watched a Navy missile got through, hammering into the GUTdrive pod of the Mercy and Tolerance. Mercy and Tolerance. Slowly the great ship began to drift out of position. But even as she did so she spat fire in Beya's direction, and picked a Navy missile out of the sky. Slowly the great ship began to drift out of position. But even as she did so she spat fire in Beya's direction, and picked a Navy missile out of the sky.

"Thanks, Mercy/' Mercy/' she whispered. she whispered.

"You're welcome/' came a reply.

"Beya, what are you doing?"

"Dad, do you trust me?"

"I-You know I do. What kind of question is that?"

"Well enough to gamble your life on my say-so?"

"I may not have a choice. If you'd just tell me-"

"Just another bit of Sol system history, dad. Something I read, an incident at a planet called Pluto, long ago ... " She stared out at the dazzling sky-blue of the nearest portal's exotic-matter tetrahedral frame. The faces were like semitransparent panes of silvered gla.s.s; she could make out the watercolour oceans of Jupiter, swirled around in a fashion the eye could not quite track, like visions in a dream. "So beautiful."

"Beya?"

The flitter turned its nose straight towards the Interface. She ran a quick calculation on her data desk.

"Five seconds, dad."

"Until what?"

"Fire up on my mark, and get out of there with everything you have."

She pa.s.sed through the glimmering face as if it did not exist, and now she was inside the blue frame of the Interface.

Her father's voice was distorted. "Beya, please-"

"This is for you, for mum, for Alpha. Remember me. Mark!" And she stabbed down her finger at her data desk.

The flitter's engine exploded. Something slammed into her back. Electric-blue light flared all around her.

Remarkably, she was still alive.

She was jammed up in the little ship's cabin, which had been ejected from the wreck. She made herself look around. She gasped with the pain of broken bones.

There was something wrong with s.p.a.ce. A ball of light, unearthly, swelled up behind her, and an irregular patch of darkness ahead was like a rip in s.p.a.ce. Tidal forces plucked at her belly and limbs. n.o.body had had a ride like this in a thousand years.

And she saw Navy ships scattered like bits of straw in a wind.

The tides faded. The darkness before her healed, to reveal the brilliance of Sol. And the flitter cabin imploded, without fuss.

It took long minutes before the crew got the tumbling of the Facula Facula under control. under control.

Pella came to Stillich, her brow bloodied. "Damage report-"

"Never mind that. What just happened?"

"An Alcubierre wave."

"A what?"

Pella dragged her fingers trough mussed hair. "Captain, a wormhole is a flaw in s.p.a.ce. It's inherently unstable. The throat and mouths are kept open by active feedback loops involving threads of exotic matter. That's matter with a negative energy density, a sort of antigravity which-"

"What's an Alcubierre wave?"

"Something exploded inside the Interface. And the Interface's negative energy region expanded from the tetrahedron, just for a moment. The negative energy distorted a chunk of s.p.a.cetime. The chunk containing us." us."

On one side of the wave, s.p.a.cetime had contracted like a black hole. On the other side, it expanded-like a re-run of the Big Bang, the expansion at the beginning of the universe.

Pella scanned her data desk. "We lost contact altogether with five of our ships. None of the ships is operational. The Facula-" Facula-"

"What about the surviving rebels?"

"Two disabled." She looked up. "One got away. It's heading for Earth."

"Can we give chase?"

"No, sir, we-" we-"

"Get me a line to Admiral Kale. Patch it through to the Palace if you can-"

She looked up again, shocked. "Sir. I've a standing order, to become operative in case of failure."

"Get on with it."

"You're relieved of command. In fact, you're under arrest."

Stillich laughed. "Fine. I'm in your custody, Number One. Now get hold of a working flitter and get me back to Earth."

AD 4820.

S-Day plus 11 Orbit of Neptune

The final attempt to stop the Fist Fist ships was the most dramatic. ships was the most dramatic.

After ice-moon debris had put an end to One One and then and then Four, Four, it was a GUTship that tried to halt the last two survivors, it was a GUTship that tried to halt the last two survivors, Three Three and and Two. Two. Not far within the orbit of Pluto, on the rim of Sol system proper, moving at a fraction of the attackers' near-lightspeed, it tried to ram them. It was an extraordinary bit of relativistic navigation. Not far within the orbit of Pluto, on the rim of Sol system proper, moving at a fraction of the attackers' near-lightspeed, it tried to ram them. It was an extraordinary bit of relativistic navigation. Fist Three, Fist Three, taking the lead, destroyed it with an equally remarkable bit of sharp-shooting. But the detonation hurled debris into the path of taking the lead, destroyed it with an equally remarkable bit of sharp-shooting. But the detonation hurled debris into the path of Three, Three, and that was that. and that was that.

When it was done, here was Fist Two Fist Two alone, sailing on through the orbit of Neptune at over ninety-eight per cent of lightspeed-the fastest velocity ever attained within the system, it was believed, save for cosmic rays, atomic nuclei ejected from supernovas. alone, sailing on through the orbit of Neptune at over ninety-eight per cent of lightspeed-the fastest velocity ever attained within the system, it was believed, save for cosmic rays, atomic nuclei ejected from supernovas.

Fist was a warship, a relativistic weapon, manned, sailing among the fragile worlds of the mother system. It was wrong, Densel Bel thought. It was monstrous. And yet here he was. Densel Bel was glad the remaining time was so brief. was a warship, a relativistic weapon, manned, sailing among the fragile worlds of the mother system. It was wrong, Densel Bel thought. It was monstrous. And yet here he was. Densel Bel was glad the remaining time was so brief.

AD 4820.

S-Day plus 11 Imperial bunker, New York City

Stillich was brought to the Empress's bunker in shackles.

Admiral Kale was here. With an impatient command he ordered the shackles removed, and dismissed the guard.

Beside the logic pool, in its eerie, shifting light, the Empress brooded. Some Virtual display was playing itself out before her: a globe, a point of light, a glowing splinter-over and over.

Stillich approached his superior, rubbing his ankles. "Sir. How long?"

Kale snapped his fingers; a small Virtual data display appeared in the air. "That f.u.c.king relativistic ship is crossing Saturn's...o...b..t."

Stillich thought. "Seventy-eight minutes from Earth."

"About that. And we're still waiting on this b.a.s.t.a.r.d Flood."

After the Navy's scattering at Jupiter, there had been nothing left to stand in the way of the Freestar's Freestar's advance on Earth. At last the rebel ship had entered orbit around Earth itself, and Flood was descending to discuss surrender terms. advance on Earth. At last the rebel ship had entered orbit around Earth itself, and Flood was descending to discuss surrender terms.

"Do you think we've a choice but to do what he says?"

Kale grimaced. "The choice is playing itself out on the Empress's lap."

The consequence of the Fist Fist striking the Earth had been modelled for the Empress. The physics was simple, a function of the striking the Earth had been modelled for the Empress. The physics was simple, a function of the fist's fist's immense kinetic energy. The impact, marked by a tunnel of air shocked to superheated plasma, would be the source of a pulse of electromagnetic energy itself strong enough to sear anything alive across half a hemisphere-bright enough to pierce walls. The shock waves of air and water that would follow, and a hard rain of melted bedrock falling from the sky, would do the rest. Shira watched this over and over, obsessive. immense kinetic energy. The impact, marked by a tunnel of air shocked to superheated plasma, would be the source of a pulse of electromagnetic energy itself strong enough to sear anything alive across half a hemisphere-bright enough to pierce walls. The shock waves of air and water that would follow, and a hard rain of melted bedrock falling from the sky, would do the rest. Shira watched this over and over, obsessive.

At the seventy-minute mark, the chamber door opened. Flood walked in. He was a bulky, strong-looking man, wearing a simple tunic and leggings. He carried a package, a sleek black box. Two others accompanied him, a man and a woman similarly dressed. These companions looked nervous, even over-awed, to be in this bunker under New York City itself, to be in the presence of an Empress. Flood, however, showed no fear.

Flood glanced at the Empress. She showed no reaction, watching her model go through its sequence, over and over.

Kale sneered. "So you are Flood, the great rebel leader. And you dress like a farmer. How ostentatious. How predictable."

Flood smiled at him, and looked him up and down. "Nice jacket. Here. Hold this." He handed him the box he was carrying.

Kale took it reflexively. Then, irritated, he pa.s.sed it to Stillich. "What is it?"

"Our final weapon. A nanotech modification of the smart plague-hardware, not software. Released, it would chew up the robust networks you were prudent enough to install-your optical-fibre links and all the rest. Necessarily delivered after landfall."

Stillich put this on the floor, gingerly. "Your final weapon save for the fist." fist."

"Save for that, yes."

"Why have you brought it here?" the Admiral asked. "You have won. You have no need to do more damage."