A Talent for War (43 page)

Maybe they're waiting for the destroyer to come back. Where is it, by the way?"

"Still headed out of town. I'd say another standard day and a half before they can even turn around. Anyway, what would they need a destroyer for?"

She looked through a viewport at the giant ship floating off our beam.

"Their shields are still up?"

"Yes. This would be a good time for an idea." Her face clouded. "I just had an uncomfortable thought. Can they read our minds from there?"

"I don't think so. They have to be reasonably close. A few meters, judging by my experience with them. And by the way, if they do get inside your head, you'll know it."

"Unpleasant sons of bitches, aren't they?" She tapped the keyboard. "Energy levels have finally stopped rising. I think we're about as combat ready as we're going to get. If any of this stuff still works."

"Assume everything's fine. That's what we'll need to survive, so assume it. If there's a problem somewhere, knowing about it in advance won't help us any."

"So what do we do now?"

"Wait," I said. "Keep the scattershot primed. If we get a chance to use it, we're going to shoot, and run like hell."

"Limp like hell," she corrected.

"Benedict."

The sound spilled out of the ship's commsystem. "It's coming from the mute," said Chase.

"Don't acknowledge," I said.

"Alex." The voice was warm, understanding, reasonable. And familiar. "Alex, are you all right?

I've been worried about life support over there. Is there anything we can do?"

It was S'Kalian. Defender of the peace. Idealist. Friend. "I'm sorry about the loss of the Centaur. The destroyer was only supposed to prevent anyone's boarding the artifact."

"Stay on the trigger," I told Chase.

"What do I aim at?"

"Pick your target," I said.

"Preferably toward the center," said the computer. "Without specific knowledge, the most probable location of the power plant would be a centralized position within the configuration."

S'Kalian again: "Alex?"

Chase nodded. "Locked in. Now's your chance to ask him to take down the screens."

"Alex, you can hear me. We have an opportunity to settle this peacefully. There need be no bloodshed."

I opened a channel. His image appeared on one of the auxiliary monitors. He looked solicitous, compassionate. "You can't have the Corsarius, S'Kalian."

"We already have it. Fortunately for both our people, we have it."

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"Why?" I asked. "Why is it so valuable to you?"

"Surely by now you have guessed, Alex." His tone dropped an octave. "Sim's secrets will be safe with us. We are not an aggressive species. Your people have nothing to fear."

"That's easy to say."

"We don't have your bloody history, Alex. War is not a normal condition of life among us.

We do not kill our own kind, nor would we have killed yours if it could have been avoided. We still live today with the memory of that terrible war."

"That was two hundred years ago!"

"And there," he said, sadly, "lies the difference between us. For the Ashiyyur, yesterday's tragedy remains painfully fresh. It is not merely history."

"Yes," I said. "We've seen how violence upsets you."

"I'm sorry about the attack on the Centaur. But we wished very much to avoid the situation which has now arisen. However, we cannot permit the Corsarius to be returned to its creators.

The sad truth of all this is that we may yet be forced to take your lives."

"What do you want?"

"Only the ship. Turn it over to us. I'm prepared to provide safe passage home for you, and to compensate you generously for the loss of the artifact."

I looked at him, trying to read sincerity into those too-thoroughly composed features. "What's involved in the surrender? How do you propose to do it?"

"It's not a surrender, Alex," he said smoothly. "It's an act of courage under difficult circumstances. But we would simply send over a boarding party. As for you, all we ask is that you signify your consent by leaving the vessel. Both of you, that is." He nodded, expressing content that we were moving toward a prudent course. "Yes, simply leave the vessel. Come here to us. You have my solemn guarantee that you will be well treated."

"And released?"

He hesitated. It was brief, a moment's reluctance. "Of course." He smiled encouragingly.

Somehow, during the conversation we'd had at Kostyev House, the fact that his lips never moved had been less disconcerting, perhaps because I could see the communication device by which he spoke, or maybe because the circumstances had changed so drastically. Whatever it was, the dialogue was thoroughly unnerving, and carried with it a sense of direct mental contact.

I

wondered whether I had underestimated him, whether he was in fact reaching across the void and penetrating my mind. "Are you prepared to leave?"

"We're thinking about it." Chase stared at the overhead.

"Very good. We will watch for you. In deference to your feelings, we will make no effort to board the ship until you have arrived safely here.

"By the way, Alex, I know this is difficult for you. But the day will come when our two species will stand united in fast friendship. And I suspect you will be remembered for your contribution to that happy moment."

"Why is it so important?" I asked. "Why do you want the ship?"

"It is a symbol of the evil time. I think, in all honesty, that it could not have been found at a worse period. We are again close to war, your people and mine. This vessel with all the memories it will stir, could well be the catalyst for a tidal wave of hostility. We cannot, in conscience, allow that to happen."

Who's he kidding? Chase asked with her eyes.

"This is not an easy decision for us," I said.

"I understand."

"Please give us a moment to think about it."

"Of course."

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"Do it!" Chase said, as soon as his image had faded. "It's a way out. And they'd have nothing to gain by killing us."

"The sons of bitches would kill us, Chase. They aren't going to turn us loose."

"You're crazy," she said. "We've got to trust them. What other choice do we have? I don't want to give my life for a derelict. You know as well as I do that if they can't have this thing, they'll just blow it up and us with it. And any notions we have of fighting that goddam monster are just so much fantasy. I mean, this antique wouldn't have a chance against that son of a bitch, even if it had a full crew and Sim himself sitting in that chair."

"That's not what you were saying a few minutes ago."

"A few minutes ago I didn't think we had a choice."

My mouth had gone dry, but I tried to sound calm. "I don't agree, Chase. They want this ship, and as long as we stay in it, I think we're safe. They can't board, and they won't destroy it."

"Why not? If all they want is to keep us from getting back home with it, they can blow us up any time they please."

"Then why haven't they already done so?"

"Maybe because they don't want to kill anyone if they don't have to."

"You believe that?"

"Damn it, Alex, I don't know."

"Okay," I was out of the command seat now, rattling around the bridge, trying to think. "If you're right, then why did they attack the Centaur? They had no compunctions about our lives.

They wanted to keep us from getting on board because then they'd have to talk us out."

"Maybe you're right," she said angrily. "I just don't know. But I don't want to get killed over it."

"Then we stay right where we are. How much time before the Armstrongs activate?"

"There are no Armstrongs," she said, desperately.

"Come on, Chase," I said. "How much time before whatever we've got activates? Before we can jump into hyper?"

There were tears in her eyes. "About a half day. You think you can stall them that long?"

"I think it's our best chance." I took her by the shoulders, and hung on to her. "You with me?"

She looked at me a long time. "You're going to get us both killed," she said.

"I regret that you feel compelled to pursue a course that can only result in bloodshed."

S'Kalian did indeed appear upset. "Is there nothing I can say to dissuade you?"

"The hell with you," I said. "You're going to have to blow up your artifact. So go ahead and do it!" I broke the link.

"You were persuasive," Chase said, glumly. "I hope he doesn't take you up on it."

The mute drifted closer. The slow oscillation of its component parts accelerated. "Best analysis,"

said the computer, "suggests everything we can see is part of an energy deployment system."

Chase swore softly. "Where's the operational center? Where are they vulnerable?"

"At present, insufficient information is available to draw conclusions."

"Your guess is as good as his," I said.

"I think it's time to put up the shields."

"No," I said.

"Why not?"

"We don't gain anything by it. We can't run, and we can't fight. The shields would only delay the inevitable. Let's try to keep a surprise available." Something had been bothering me about my conversation with S'Kalian, and I suddenly realized what it was. "Why were they being so nice to us?" I said.

"What do you mean?"

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"Why did they want to wait for us to go over there before they dispatched a boarding party?"

Chase shook her head. "I still think maybe they're telling the truth."

"No," I said. "I'll tell you what it is: they don't trust us. We're bushwhackers in their eyes, and they want us where they can keep an eye on us. That means they think we can do them some damage. How?"

Chase's eyes closed briefly, and then she nodded. "I can give you a good guess. Their boarding party: they have to lower their screens to pass them through. For a few seconds, they'd be vulnerable."

I felt a simultaneous rush of elation and fear. "They don't trust us," I repeated. And I found myself thinking about Sim's chessboard. "Maybe we can turn it to our advantage."

"Go ahead," Chase said. "I'm open for ideas."

"I need you to go back and get two of the pressure suits. Put them inside the capsule, and inflate them. Try to make them look like us. And rig the capsule so we can operate it from here."

"Why? What good will that do?"

"I'm not sure how much time we have, Chase. Just do it. Okay? Let me know when it's ready, and then get back here."

"All right," she said, getting up, and extending her hand. "And by the way, if I don't see you again, it's been a hell of a ride, Alex."

There was a catch beneath the flippancy, but she left quickly. In the general silence of the ship, I could follow her progress back through the hatches.

"Movement," said the computer. "Something's happening."

The ovoid dance of the alien vessel changed its pattern, and its colors deepened. It glowed fiercely in the eternal dark, its tiny lights swirling. Luminous insects in the mouth of a cannon. It went on for several minutes.

"Psychology," I told the computer. "They're playing mind games with us."

"I'm not sure what that means. But I detect a familiar metal shape within the configuration.

Plasma missile launcher, probably. Eight tubes. This type weapon is intended for use against a relatively stationary target. High velocity projectile designed to penetrate thick armor, and burn out interior. Analysis indicates that only one of the tubes contains a weapon."

Hell. "What," I asked, barely able to speak, suddenly aware that I didn't know how to put the shield up if I wanted to, "will be the effect on Corsarius?"

"How much energy to defensive screens?"

"None."

"Total destruction."

I thought about calling Chase, to warn her, to get her back. But I let it go. What the hell.

I could hear her banging around in the after section. A red lamp lit up on the status board.

Outside hatch open.

"They've locked on," said the computer.

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited.

"Missile away."

In that final moment, what I thought about was that we had not fired a single shot in our own defense.

The thing blasted through our metal skin and set off a windstorm below decks. The klaxons let go again, and all the rest of the ship's systems that warn of immediate and serious danger. But we were still alive!

"What the hell's going on up there?" demanded Chase, with the mild echo that indicated she was inside a pressure suit.

"They just fired on us. You okay?"

"Yeah. You think maybe it's time now to put up the shield?" She sounded shaky.

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"Are you finished yet?"

"Almost. But maybe we ought to evict the dummies, and you and me get in there and clear out."

"Get back here quick," I said. "Computer, damage report. How come we're still on the premises?"

"The missile did not detonate. I don't know why, unless it was an empty shell. Impossible to be certain, since it passed completely through the ship."

"Where'd it hit?"

"The compartment directly below the bridge. We will require repairs on both bulkheads as soon as you can get a damage control crew down there. In the meantime, I've sealed the area off."

S'Kalian's voice again: "Alex: there is still time." He held out his arms in a gesture of appeal.

"You are a son of a bitch," I said quietly.

"I admire your restraint, under the circumstances. Please understand: we can punch holes in your vessel, and I believe we can do it without damaging critical systems. Now, what further demonstration do you need of my concern for your welfare? Get out of there, while you can.

Your death, and that of your, uh, woman, will accomplish nothing."

Chase opened the rear hatch and came in. "Ready to go," she whispered.

The computer broke the link with the enemy ship. "Captain," it said, "another missile has been loaded."

"If you've got an idea," said Chase, "this is the time."

"Computer, get the mute back."