This Day All Gods Die Part 18

Without waiting to be dismissed, he headed for the aperture.

"Sounds like fun," Angus snorted past his grin. "I'll go with you. Just in case you decide you don't want to be a good boy. Or Director Donner changes her mind."

He handed Min's gun to Davies as he followed Dolph Ubikwe off the bridge.

Min understood, although no one said the words. Dolph had just become a hostage.

He seemed to take all the cruiser's courage with him as he left. His people sagged at their stations. Their faces fell: they hung their heads. Even Glessen lost his truculence. Bydell made a small sound that might have been a moan of abandonment.

Abruptly Min's anger returned like the flash of a signal flare. She found herself flexing the fingers of her right hand against the burn; flexing them like Angus. She wanted her gun.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be, Ensign Hyland," she warned. "Our people have already been pushed right to the edge. It'll take just about nothing to make them explode. If your cyborg so much as scratches scratches Captain Ubikwe, you'll have a full-scale battle on your hands." Captain Ubikwe, you'll have a full-scale battle on your hands."

And I will personally execute the lot of you.

"We know that," Mikka muttered. "We know what's at stake."

Holding Min's gun in his fist, Davies left the aperture to approach Morn and the command station. Bitterly he told Min, "Angus hasn't hurt anyone since you gave Nick his priority-codes. At the moment he's easier to trust than you are."

Min wrapped her fingers around the fire in her palms so that she wouldn't retort.

Once again Morn didn't hesitate. She'd committed herself to this course of action. If she had doubts about it, she kept her uncertainty private.

Deliberately spurning her years in the Academy, as well as her whole family history-the respect for rank and authority which she'd surely been taught-she stepped to the command station and a.s.sumed Captain Ubikwe's g-seat. Despite the darkness in her gaze, she seemed sure of what she did. The cast on her arm gave her an odd combination of vulnerability and dignity.

Min watched in confusion, baffled by outrage-and by a strange, keen pride that one of her people could rise to a challenge like this.

"Mikka," Morn said quietly, "I want you to supervise helm."

"Right." At once Mikka stalked over to Emmett's station; positioned herself at the arm of his g-seat so that she had a clear view of his console.

"Davies," Morn went on, "you'd better keep an eye on Director Donner. Just to be safe. I want everyone to know she's being held under duress. Like Captain Ubikwe."

She meant that neither Min Donner nor Dolph Ubikwe was responsible for what Trumpet's Trumpet's people did. In an oblique way she was protecting Min, Dolph, and people did. In an oblique way she was protecting Min, Dolph, and Punisher. Punisher. Perhaps she was even protecting Warden Dios. To that extent, at least, she understood the implications of her decisions. Perhaps she was even protecting Warden Dios. To that extent, at least, she understood the implications of her decisions.

Quickly Davies shifted so that he had an open shot on Min without risking either Morn or Mikka. Grimacing like his father's grin, he covered Min with her own weapon. But he kept his distance: apparently he'd seen how quickly she could move.

When Davies was in position, Morn turned her station. Following her gaze, Min saw Mikka's brother still huddled on the deck. He'd retreated to the bulkhead; pressed his shoulder against it as if he wanted to hide and had forgotten how.

Gently Morn asked, "Ciro, are you all right?"

He didn't reply. After a long moment, however, he jerked a nod.

Sighing, Morn returned her attention to the rest of the bridge.

"Communications, I'm sure you have a copy of Dr. Shaheed's transmission. Please ready it for general broadcast. As soon as we reach Earth, we'll start transmitting it again.

"Vector, you might want to be sure she gets it right."

Cray snorted at the suggestion that she might make a mistake. But Vector's response was a grin of relief. "I think I can handle that." At once he stopped blocking the communications board and moved around behind Cray's station to support himself on the back of her g-seat.

Morn continued a.s.suming command.

"Helm, please set course for Earth. The best course you can manage with no more than one g of thrust. I don't want to put any more pressure than necessary on this ship."

"Yes, sir," Emmett responded automatically. Placing his hands on his board, he started to tap keys.

"Engage thrust when you're ready, helm," Morn finished.

Punisher was going home. was going home.

Gritting her teeth, Min tried to tell herself that she'd done what Warden wanted.

And that what Warden wanted was right.

KOINA.

Koina Hannish had isolated herself in her office. The room wasn't G.o.dsen Frik's once-opulent center of operations, which she'd always disliked, and which had in any case been effectively destroyed by the kaze who'd killed the former PR director. It was her own far more austere s.p.a.ce. For the time being, at least, she'd delegated to her subordinates the ma.s.sive job of sifting Data Storage for the truth behind G.o.dsen's fulsome obfuscations. And she'd instructed her receptionist to accept no calls, demands, or inquiries unless they came directly from Warden Dios. She'd locked her door, blanked her terminals and readouts, silenced her intercom; dimmed the lights.

Now she sat at her desk and tried to review her life.

This was how she made hard decisions. Whenever she was faced with a difficult choice, she approached it by asking herself who she was, what she wanted, what she believed in.

She'd started doing this a number of years ago when she'd first considered what she wanted to do with her life. What were her convictions? What could she do about them? Her answers had led her into "public relations," which she defined as the interface between the people who took action and the people who were affected by those actions. To her way could imagine. The interface determined the nature of the relationship between any public organization and its const.i.tuents. It was the means by which the organization and its const.i.tuents communicated with each other. Even a casual study of governmental-and corporate-ent.i.ties showed that their effectiveness hinged on "public relations."

Later the same answers had inspired her to accept a position in UMCPPR. Nowhere was the interface more crucial than in the dealings between humanity and its defenders.

But the personal and professional dishonesty of the former PR director had forced her to examine her life again. Could she tolerate his misuse of his position, his distortion of everything which pa.s.sed through his hands in Holt Fasner's name? And if she couldn't, what did she propose to do instead?

In the end she'd concluded that the work of UMCPPR was too important to abandon. Here was where she belonged. Since she couldn't make G.o.dsen honest, she would dedicate herself to cleaning up after him. Among other things, this inspired her to undermine him covertly by, in effect, spying on him for Hashi Lebwohl.

Then, scant days ago, she'd needed another bout of self-examination when Warden Dios had offered her G.o.dsen's job.

Surely this was exactly what she'd been hoping for? A chance to replace G.o.dsen's unctuous lies with the truth? Perhaps not. Warden had permitted G.o.dsen's falsehoods and machinations. He was profoundly responsible for all his former PR director's misdeeds. If he expected her to carry out G.o.dsen's duties in G.o.dsen's fashion, she would have no recourse but to resign.

That was her decision, although the prospect filled her with pain. Humankind deserved better from UMCPPR-and from the UMCP itself-than G.o.dsen had ever given it.

However, Warden had rea.s.sured her more than she would have dared hope. In an abrupt, and unexplained, policy reversal, he'd ordered her to do the PR director's job as she believed it should be done: openly, honestly; constructively.

At one stroke he'd changed everything. She couldn't imagine what his motives might be, but she approved completely. He inspired trust, despite his responsibility for G.o.dsen. After years of bad compromises and frustration, her life came into focus. She found that she was eager to be the interface which the UMCP so urgently needed.

But now the task of reexamination had to be done again. The UMCP director had presented her with another arduous choice.

This one was especially cruel.

When she'd left her meeting with Hashi, Security Chief Mandich, and Warden, she'd felt sick with grief. Her relief at hearing that she hadn't precipitated the kaze's attack soon faded: her sorrow at other things was with her still. Her efforts to make up her mind were colored by ruin.

She shouldn't feel this way, she told herself sternly. Warden had made the mandate of her duties real at last; given them teeth. Now she would be able to do her job as it should have been done from the beginning.

But the things she'd learned-!

The Amnion had committed an act of war. That would have been enough-more than enough-but it was only the beginning.

On direct orders from Holt Fasner, UMCPDA had framed Angus Thermopyle in order to achieve the pa.s.sage of the Preempt Act. And Morn Hyland knew the truth. She was alive aboard Trumpet Trumpet-despite the fact that Captain Thermopyle was now a welded UMCP cyborg with explicit instructions not to rescue her from her enslavement to Nick Succorso. Captain Thermopyle's "escape" from UMCPHQ accompanied by Milos Taverner had been a ruse designed to protect a covert mission against Billingate.

In addition Hashi had produced convincing-if inferential-evidence that the kazes who had attacked Captain Vertigus, killed G.o.dsen, and threatened the GCES had been sent by the Dragon himself. Presumably their purpose had been to disrupt Special Counsel Igensard's investigation of the UMCP, as well as to counteract the effects of Warden's-and Hashi's-recent video conference with the Council. In effect, however, the kazes had defeated Sixten Vertigus' Bill of Severance.

Now she, Koina Hannish, had been charged with revealing all this before the Governing Council for Earth and s.p.a.ce.

Under the circ.u.mstances she should have been avid; almost ecstatic with vindication. As Protocol Director for the UMCP, she stood at the fulcrum of events which would affect all humankind. The veil of falsehood and unaccountability which Holt Fasner had woven between the UMCP and the GCES was starting to fray. When she addressed the Council-when she carried out Warden's clear instructions-the fabric would tear.

She should have been thrilled-but she wasn't. Instead mourning ate like acid at her heart: her sense of clarity and conviction corroded by the moment. Isolated and immobilized, she sat here in the dusk of her office trying to make the most important decision of her life.

Warden Dios had chosen her to destroy him.

When she spoke to the Council-if she spoke-she would put an axe to the roots of Holt Fasner's power over human s.p.a.ce. The threat of war would naturally leave the Members chary of interfering with the UMCP. But that threat came in direct response to Angus Thermopyle's mission against Billingate-and to his escape with Morn Hyland. It could be argued, therefore, that Warden was culpable for this act of war. And Maxim Igensard would certainly do so, especially if he had reason to think that Warden could have guessed Milos Taverner would turn traitor. The Special Counsel might well claim that the UMCP was as much a threat to humankind's safety as the Amnion were.

The information that the UMCP had betrayed Com-Mine Security in order to extend its own hegemony would confirm Igensard's argument. So would the apparent breakdown of Hashi's control over his welded cyborg.

The shock of these revelations would increase dramatically if Koina accused Holt Fasner of sending kazes against his opponents.

At the very least the Members would probably reconsider-and perhaps pa.s.s-Captain Vertigus' Bill. And they might go much farther. They were unlikely to cripple the UMCP at such a time. But if Koina was eloquent enough they might press charges against Holt Fasner. They might decharter the UMC itself.

Whatever else happened, however, the Council would certainly crush Warden Dios. He would be suspended in disgrace: he would be charged with treason. And Holt Fasner wouldn't stand by him. The Dragon would have no choice but to extract from Warden any sacrifice the GCES required, if only to reduce his own losses.

Koina wanted no part of it.

On the surface Warden's behavior appeared unconscionable. Nevertheless she trusted him. Something in the clench of his strong fists, or the probing of his one eye, or the underlying pa.s.sion of his voice, convinced her that he was honest. Like her, he must have made bad compromises: after all, he worked for Holt. Still she believed that he'd done what he did for reasons which she would have considered honorable.

She didn't want to be the one who brought him down.

So now she had to choose between her duty-as he himself had defined it for her-and her personal loyalty to him. Which could she bear to give up?

Snared by loss, she feared that the challenge Would defeat her. No matter what she did, she would have to surrender pieces of herself.

Perhaps this was the kind of pressure which had driven Warden to make unconscionable choices. Perhaps he, too, had been forced to surrender pieces of himself.

She was still gnawing on the problem like an animal chewing its own leg to escape a trap when her intercom suddenly flashed.

She caught her breath: for a moment her heart seemed to stop. That was Warden's priority channel. It made no sound: she'd stilled the chime. Nevertheless it signaled insistently, as urgent as an emergency beacon.

She wasn't ready- She had to answer it anyway. She would never be able to justify refusing a call from the director of the UMCP.

Instinctively she straightened her back; cleared her throat; adjusted her clothes. Then she reached out almost firmly and keyed open the channel.

"Koina Hannish," she announced. "Director Dios?"

"Koina." Warden's voice sounded distant, m.u.f.fled by tension. "Let's keep this short. I'm in a hurry.

"Len has called an emergency session," he said without preamble. "It starts in six hours. Your shuttle leaves in two. You have that long to brace yourself for Igensard."

Something had happened.

She scrambled to catch up. "I take it this means you've told the President there's been an act of war."

"Yes," he replied. He'd bypa.s.sed Protocol entirely-which of course was exactly what he would be expected to do in this kind of crisis. "As I said, I've been waiting to make a formal announcement until I had a better idea which way events were headed. But now I can't put it off any longer."

Something had had happened. Koina held herself still, hoping that her silence would encourage him to go on. happened. Koina held herself still, hoping that her silence would encourage him to go on.

"Another drone just came in," he explained promptly. He wanted her to know this. "It's from Punisher. Punisher. She's still in the Ma.s.sif-5 system-or she was when she launched the drone. But she's on her way out. Chasing She's still in the Ma.s.sif-5 system-or she was when she launched the drone. But she's on her way out. Chasing Trumpet Trumpet.

"Why Trumpet Trumpet is running from her I can't tell you," he rasped. "That's one problem. Nick Succorso has the codes to control Angus. He should have stopped trying to get away from Min by now. But the rest of the news is worse. is running from her I can't tell you," he rasped. "That's one problem. Nick Succorso has the codes to control Angus. He should have stopped trying to get away from Min by now. But the rest of the news is worse.

"That Amnion defensive was definitely hunting Trumpet. Trumpet. Apparently Apparently Trumpet Trumpet tried to hide in an asteroid swarm. Ma.s.sif-5 is littered with them. Even though the defensive was under hard fire from tried to hide in an asteroid swarm. Ma.s.sif-5 is littered with them. Even though the defensive was under hard fire from Punisher Punisher, she parked herself outside the swarm and waited for Trumpet Trumpet to show up. to show up.

"Which is another problem," he muttered. "How the h.e.l.l did an Amnioni know Trumpet Trumpet was in there?" was in there?"

And what was Trumpet Trumpet doing there in the first place? What bizarre breakdown of reason or self-interest had inspired Nick Succorso to head for Ma.s.sif-5, instead of turning himself over to the protection of Director Donner and doing there in the first place? What bizarre breakdown of reason or self-interest had inspired Nick Succorso to head for Ma.s.sif-5, instead of turning himself over to the protection of Director Donner and Punisher? Punisher?

But Warden didn't raise that question. Sourly he went on, "When Trumpet Trumpet finally showed herself, the defensive tried to hit her. Not just with matter cannon. She used a super-light proton gun. It's a miracle finally showed herself, the defensive tried to hit her. Not just with matter cannon. She used a super-light proton gun. It's a miracle Trumpet Trumpet is still alive. is still alive.

"The miracle was that another ship appeared. She must have followed either Trumpet Trumpet or the defensive all the way from forbidden s.p.a.ce. And, no, I can't explain that, either," he growled, although Koina hadn't asked him to. "But she attacked just in time to help or the defensive all the way from forbidden s.p.a.ce. And, no, I can't explain that, either," he growled, although Koina hadn't asked him to. "But she attacked just in time to help Punisher Punisher overload the Amnioni's sinks." overload the Amnioni's sinks."

He paused as if he were swallowing indignation or shame, then said, "Now it gets even worse. When the defensive had to choose between killing Trumpet Trumpet-which was presumably her whole reason for being there-and saving herself, she saved herself. She used her proton gun to destroy the other ship instead of Trumpet. Trumpet. Which gave Which gave Trumpet Trumpet time to get away." time to get away."

At last Koina did interject a question. "Why is that bad?" She was foundering in new information; implications she couldn't a.s.similate. "Aren't we glad Trumpet Trumpet is alive?" is alive?"

"Of course we're glad," he retorted heavily. "What's bad is that the defensive made that decision. It raises the rather frightening possibility that she-or the Amnion-have other responses available, responses we don't know about."

Like what? Koina wanted to ask; demand. She couldn't imagine what they might be. Despite everything she'd learned recently, she still had no idea what the real stakes were.

What did this have to do with the meaning of her life?

"Anyway," Warden resumed, "Punisher "Punisher has been too badly hurt to finish the defensive on her own. She broke off the engagement to go after has been too badly hurt to finish the defensive on her own. She broke off the engagement to go after Trumpet. Trumpet. The Amnioni got away." The Amnioni got away."

On that point, at least, Koina understood him. "I guess you're right," she muttered. Sorrow made her sound bitter. "That is even worse."

Min Donner's decision may have been justified, correct, but it would taint the UMCP's already tarnished image.

"The risks are too great," he concluded. "I couldn't wait any longer. I had to tell Len what was happening."

More and more, Koina's grief came out as sarcasm. "Did you also tell Holt Fasner?"

"Actually, no." Warden's tone was stiff, but he didn't pause. "For some reason I've been too busy to contact Holt."

Which must have made the Dragon positively apoplectic. Warden was already a dead man: the CEO simply hadn't had time to carry out his execution yet.