Infinite Day (50 page)

“Very well. Take this message.” She transmitted it with an urgent icon. “I want you to make sure that Fleet-Commander Lezaroth sees it as soon as possible.”

“Thank you. I will ensure your message is forwarded. Thank you for your call. Peace and prosperity to the lord-emperor forever.”

Betafor hissed quietly to herself, “Stupid machine!”

18

L
ezaroth was walking around the upper deck of the
Comet
. It was partly for exercise and partly because he found that walking helped him think through things. Today he had plenty to think about, so much so that he had ordered isolation from calls from anybody except the lord-emperor.

Matters were delicate. He had to ensure that events moved smoothly over the next dozen hours. While the lord-emperor had been unthreatening when he had appeared in the Nether-Realms, and it was plain that the gift of hostages Lezaroth brought was going to be welcome, these were no guarantee of safety. With Nezhuala, there were no guarantees.

Lezaroth gazed around at his surroundings, and a bitter contempt flared.
I hate this ship. I hope I'm never on anything like it again. My task today is not just survival; it is to ensure that I am given command of something more worthy
.

He paused at a viewport and, screening his eyes from the burning disk of Sarata with his hand, peered through the tinted glass. He could make out at least three of the Worlds of the Living and after a few moments made out a cluster of small particles that gleamed like metal filings. A battle group, and from what he had heard from the lord-emperor, one that was probably ready to go.

He was struck by a sudden concern.
I know very little of what is going on in the fleets now—who is in charge, what the command structure is, or whether allies or enemies are in power. I am vulnerable
.

He considered checking the official news outputs but realized that this was useless. They would say nothing except what the lord-emperor wanted. There was no alternative except logging on to the military service sites, where soldiers, as they had done since time immemorial, would anonymously post comments, rumors, and experiences.
It won't hurt to announce that I am back in the system. If you are absent for too long, they assume the worst, and someone will start angling for your position.

He strode back to his cabin. There he ordered the wallscreen on and began logging on to the network. As he did, he saw that he had an urgent message icon flashing. He was about to open it when his log-on was accepted and the wall seemed to explode with data and a blast of noise. The screen was filled with endlessly overlapping frames filled with line after line of messages, images of the lord-emperor, and clips of ships or weaponry.

Lezaroth knew what had happened and cursed himself for his stupidity: he had opened the high-speed military link on a civilian system that couldn't handle it. He tried to freeze the flood of data but failed. In desperation, he turned on his neuro-augment system to intervene directly, but that only made things worse, and messages began spilling over into his body. He heard voices in his head.

“The lord-emperor today opened . . .”; “The thousandth ship was completed . . .”; “It is my life's purpose to serve you . . .”; “Recruitment figures are up . . .”

Data Overload!
flashed across the screen.

Wincing at the volume of sound in his mind, Lezaroth ordered a full reset. In an instant the screen faded to black and noises, both real and in his mind, ebbed away.

He shook himself.

It can wait.

He wondered briefly what the urgent message had been and then ignored it. If it had been from the lord-emperor, it would have come through direct. And if not, it wasn't important; after all, the lord-emperor was the only one that mattered.

Merral stood behind Laura on the bridge of the
Sacrifice
as they started deceleration.

“Are you okay with handling this?” he asked.

“Mmm. But I never thought I would be so glad that space is big.” She bobbed her head at a screen with a vast number of gleaming dots with flashing red squares overprinted round them. “There's about a hundred of them just there, all the same class as the
Triumph of Sarata
.” She gave him a smile. “We really don't want to hit one of those guys. Or even get their attention. And that is just one cluster. Betafor says it's a battle group. There are another six or seven of those.”

“In other words, we're like a mouse tiptoeing through a herd of elephants.”

“It's worse. Elephants only
accidentally
kill mice.”

“True. So, are you nervous?”

She flashed him a weak smile. “Betafor says that the lord-emperor has advanced the departure of the fleet. It seems they're so busy getting their act together they are overlooking such minor details as an incoming destroyer on an odd course.”

“That's an act of grace. You know, I was warned that this was going to be difficult. I should have asked
how
difficult.”

He walked to the front port and peered out. The disk of Sarata, gold through the protective pane, was far bigger than it had been. A faint point of flight lay due ahead, the jets of the
Comet
.
With the hostages on board.

And suddenly, he thought of Isabella, and he felt moved by a sense of loss.
Is it for her or for what she represents? My past, now gone beyond recovery.
He shook himself and stared at the twinkling clusters of red-bracketed light. The nearest of the great fleets. “How close are we to the Blade?”

“Half a million kilometers away and decelerating.”

It is too slender to be seen with the naked eye from here. But not for long
. “And the nearest fleet?”

There was a consultation with the screen. “The closest we get will be twenty thousand kilometers away.”

He heard the unspoken unease in her voice.
Neither of us prefers to spell out the dangers, but that close we could be blasted to fragments in under a second.
“So there's no reason why we can't make it to the Blade?”

He saw a brief, wary smile. “Not for the moment. But things can change.”

“Of course.” Merral began to walk away and then stopped. “Oh, Captain, an order. Most of us will be going aboard the Blade
.
There's a possibility that it could all go badly wrong. If we get taken, or killed, then I want you to take this ship back to Farholme. That way we may salvage something from the mission.”

She swallowed, looked away, and nodded. “Understood, sir.”

Merral held a briefing with Ilyas and Helena where they sorted out plans, then addressed everyone except Betafor and Laura.

“We will need everyone on this,” he said looking around. “There will be no reserves.”
Unfortunately.
He was aware of Anya's cold stare.

“Let's look at what we have to do,” Merral continued, gesturing to the holographic model, which had the main elements of the structure cut away. “There are two docking ports, and the enclosed corridors from these run through the upper part of a big loading area to join just beyond.” He traced the corridor with his finger. “We need to be ready and waiting at that junction.” Merral checked the solemn faces for any differences of opinion and found none. “You will be in two teams, Green and Blue. Green will be fifteen strong and will go ahead first. I will lead it with Ilyas. Green Team's priority is grabbing the hostages and getting them back to the
Sacrifice
. Blue I will come to in a moment. We will all be in Dominion armor with Dominion weapons so that even if they see us, they may not suspect anything. One person from each team will have enough swords for everyone in a backpack in case of Krallen attack. There shouldn't be more than ten guards there, so we . . . neutralize them. If that means killing them fast, then let it be so. There is no alternative. Not here. Is that clear?”

There were mute nods.

“Good. Now, Green Team gets the hostages back to the ship fast. But we must assume that, by now, the Blade control may be alerted. This is where we need the Blue Team.” He pointed at the model again. “Just beyond the junction is a stairway up to the right. Here. It leads to the upper control center on the floor above. This is apparently where most of the external aspects of the Blade, such as communications and docking, are handled. The moment our people are rescued, Blue Team will go to the control center entrance and set off explosive charges. The idea is to cripple the defenses and delay any pursuit. We may even do some damage to this ghastly thing. One other thing: I have arranged for several shoulder-cams to be operational. The signal will be fed back to Laura on a tight wavelength. It will be a record . . .” He left the sentence unfinished.
A record of what happened in case we perish.

“Questions?” he asked.

There were a number, and to many Merral could only say, “I don't know” or “We'll soon find out.” Eventually, someone asked whether they faced the risk that the Blade might stop them from undocking and hinder an escape.

“It's a good reason to disable the control center. But Betafor says there is an explosive bolt system and that, if worse comes to worst, she can decouple us that way.”

Merral caught the look in Lloyd's eyes.
We are trusting her with a lot
.

“Anything else?”

No one spoke.

“Very well. Helena and Ilyas will assign you to teams now.”

Merral, on the bridge, stood staring at the Blade of Night through the front port. It had become visible to the naked eye at a distance of fifteen hundred kilometers and now appeared like a glittering scratch across the sky.

He heard Laura call his name. As he walked over to her, he sensed that she was grappling with something.

“Sir, Betafor says we have been assigned the right docking bay. It's confirmed.”

“Good. Were there any suspicions?”