Infinite Day (79 page)

Somewhat uneasy about what lay before them, Merral decided on a strategy of utter caution. He would put the entire ship on combat status and have all the weapons and defense positions filled, and only then rise to just below the level of visibility, where a surveillance probe would scan the system.

So as Laura maneuvered the ship gently upward and the colors returned, Merral found himself on the bridge talking to Luke, who was leaning back against the rear wall.

“Well, we could be at Earth within hours,” Merral said, then gave a little laugh. “I said that once before, to Vero. I never got there that time.”

“Let's hope you do now. You'll like it there.” Merral sensed that the dark eyes were staring wistfully into the distance. “I told you I was there once? A prize. But of course, it's wartime now. Or if it's not, it soon will be. Who knows what limits and restrictions there will be? But it's still a great place to see.”

Merral noticed that there seemed to be an odd nonchalance about the chaplain. “You seem relaxed,” he commented.

“Yes.” Merral caught a look of puzzlement on Luke's face. “I don't know whether it's related to getting out of Below-Space or something else. But I
do
feel relaxed.” His face tightened in bafflement. “Now, what does it remind me of? Yes, I know. Remember I did dual track theology and engineering?”

“Yes, it's not a fact you forget.”

In front of them the defense and weapons teams were taking up their positions.

“Well, it shouldn't be allowed. A lethal combination. The studies were horrendous in my final year: I'd work from seven in the morning to midnight. It was terribly draining. And then one day I realized that I had finished the last course; normality could return. I feel something almost like that today. An end-of-term feeling.”

Luke stood up. “Right. Well, I'm off to take up my combat position. This promises to be an interesting few hours.” He left for the engineering blister on the top of the ship.

Ten minutes later they stopped the ascent of the
Sacrifice
, and Laura ordered the release of the probe.

Vero came alongside Merral with anticipation on his face. “M-my friend, you know what I am hoping to see?”

“What?”

“A dozen big, brand-new battleships with the Lamb and Stars on them. Then I will know our message got through.”

“I doubt there will be a dozen, and they won't be big—they'll need to get through Gates—but I have the same hope. It's another reason for being cautious. We don't want a hot reception from our own side. But let's take up our positions.”

A few minutes later, data from the probe began pouring in.

Just above the pearly crescent of Bannermene were six military ships. Three were clustered round the Gate, and all were slender. The few unencrypted signals that could be heard were all in Communal, and a blurred image did indeed show the Lamb and Stars emblem. The Gate was operating.

Away to his right, Merral saw Vero punching the air in excitement.
I share his elation; the message got through! Whatever else right we have done, this was a major achievement. We alerted the Assembly!

He checked another screen where the video signals being transmitted around Bannermene were displayed. They were a perfectly unexceptional array of programs. Merral heard the low but relaxed chatter from the desk below.
They're pleased with what they hear and see
. He realized he had to make a decision.
We must make haste.

Merral looked around to where Betafor, whom he had allowed on the bridge for this occasion, was squatting just behind him. “Betafor, I read the situation here as one where Assembly forces are on guard and Dominion forces have not yet arrived. I intend opening a broadcast. Do you agree? It will take time to allay their suspicions.”

The green head lifted. “Commander, I would agree . . . but I am picking up some weak signals. I would like to amplify them first.”

“Go ahead.” He saw Lloyd, standing nearby, watch with open suspicion as Betafor walked forward and placed the palm of her left hand onto a socket on a nearby desk.

Merral waited with growing impatience. “Do you hear something?”

Polished eyes turned to him. “I am afraid, Commander, that we are not alone in Below-Space.”

“What do you hear?”

“I hear four ships. Just below the surface, talking, keeping a low profile. Watching.”

In a second, the carefree chatter around them had shifted into urgent, troubled whispers.

“A battle group?” Vero had said a battle group was twice that size.

“I am afraid so.”

Merral saw eyes turning toward him.

“Betafor, can they hear us?”

“If they are listening this way. My first suggestion, Commander, would be to cut power and transmissions to a minimum. The captain knows the command.”

Laura nodded and tapped a screen. A moment later, the lighting dimmed and the faint vibration that was a perpetual background seemed to wane.

“This is the captain,” said an announcement. “Apparently the possibility exists that we are being monitored. All nonessential machinery, electronics, and communications should be switched off.”

The bridge fell quiet.
As though sound can travel through space!

“What are they waiting for, Betafor?” he whispered.

“They are trying to ensure that they have not overlooked anything. That this is not a trap. I now think there are two suppression complexes and two escort frigates.”

“What do you expect them to do?”

“Commander, I expect them eventually to emerge and attack. To destroy the defensive ships with the frigates before attacking the world with a full-suppression complex.”

“I see.”
What options do we have? We could ignore Bannermene and run on to Jigralt, but that way we add a week to our journey.

Merral gestured Vero over. “You heard all that?” He nodded. “A battle group, but half the size you suggested.”

Vero looked uneasy. “Plans change, I suppose.”

Merral struggled to make a decision.
Which do I trust: Vero's research or Betafor's statement? With surprise, we might be able to ambush four ships and save ourselves another week at least
.

“Do you think we can destroy four ships?”

Vero looked at the defense desks. “It might be worth a try. We could drop back into Below-Space if it went wrong.”

Merral turned to Betafor. “What about an attack strategy?”

“I am an Allenix. I am not programmed for tactics. I remind you, you are still outnumbered; there are two suppression complexes and two escort frigates. This crew lacks practice.”

“But this would be an ambush. Can we get behind or to the side of them? Can you locate them?”

“Yes. My estimates are that they are close together. A quarter of a million kilometers away.”

“Could we get in a good firing position?”

“It is possible.”
I detect a lack of enthusiasm here
.

“How soon before they emerge and attack?”

“I cannot say. Minutes or a few hours.”

Merral looked at Vero. “Shall we?”

“My friend, if it is indeed four, not eight, then it's worth a try. If we are unsuspected, we may do a lot of damage. But we will need to be ready to escape.”

“Of course. Let's see if we can get closer. Betafor, give us the course.”

“As you will.”

An hour later, they had slipped much closer to the four ships. Or so Betafor said; Merral reminded himself that he had no independent evidence that the ships even existed. In the weapons section below him, there was a quiet and rising excitement. According to Betafor's description of the layout of the battle group, the ships lay just ahead and slightly to port. With their attention focused on Bannermene and the Assembly defenses, the hope was that they might easily overlook—until too late—the possibility of an attack from the rear.

Detailed plans were laid. For maximum surprise the
Sacrifice
would emerge without any indication that she was now an Assembly ship. Two frigates would be targeted immediately with phased spectrum lasers; with them disabled—or destroyed—the attack would shift to the two suppression complexes.

The defense systems were primed. Countermissile rockets were loaded, the outer skin was tuned to maximum reflectance to reduce laser or beam weapon damage, and the screening missiles that would produce clouds of shards to destroy any incoming object were readied. The blast doors were closed and the hull sealant liquids mobilized.

Merral ordered everybody to battle stations.

And they waited.

For the next two hours, they sat watching. Merral waited for Betafor to say something, but her only comment was that the Dominion vessels were still in Below-Space. Finally, just as Merral was beginning to wonder whether anything was going to happen, she moved her head sharply. “Check the screens. They are emerging.”

Two, three, and then four fuzzy blobs of light appeared on the screen. The images sharpened into ships.
Betafor is right: a battle group of four.

Merral caught an expectant look from Laura. “Take her up,” he snapped.

He nodded to Helga on his left, and she issued a curt order. “Weapons team: target and fire as we surface.”

There was a sensation of movement. On the main screen, the gray nothingness began turning to a star-perforated expanse of black.

A chorus of voices called out, “Targeting.” On the main monitoring screen, orange boxes slid up around the points of light.

Betafor's glassy voice could be heard. “Dominion ships are engaging Assembly vessels. Laser weapons.” Flashes of white light sped out from within the boxes.
Let's hope they stay focused on the targets.

“Problem, sir!” Helga called out. “Second frigate is masked. By a suppression complex. Can't get a good shot.”

They were looking at him.
They expect me to make the decision.
It wasn't hard: with Assembly ships being attacked, Merral felt no option but to get involved.

“Continue as planned. Let's take out the three visible ships first.”

“Yes, sir.”

Across first one and then the other boxes, red crossbars appeared.
Targets locked.
He heard voices.

“Left target acquired. Firing now.”

“Central target acquired. Firing now.”

“Right target acquired. Firing.”

Three bass whispers came from within the ship.

How silently we send death.

The screen flashed white once, twice, three times.

This is for Isabella, for Perena, for them all. For me!
“How long before impact?” Merral asked, aware he ought to know.

“Five seconds,” Helga said quietly.

God, have mercy on friends. And foes.

“Dominion fire hitting an Assembly vessel!” shouted a man to his right. “Assembly vessel disintegrating!”