A Night Without Stars (65 page)

The heater fans started up with a mild hum. Warm air gusted out of the ducts.

“It should take about ten hours of this heat soak to get the ambient temperature back up to zero,” Demitri said. “That should help with the reactivation. I don't want to rush it.”

“Why won't the wormhole generator work in the cold?” Ry asked.

“It was designed to operate in temperatures a lot lower than this,” Valeri said, “but cold along with the time it's been down here…We don't want to take any chances. You saw what happened to the electronics in the ship. Our chances will be improved if we can get some heat in here first. Plus, it makes it easier to make repairs.”

Florian glanced about the dark cramped space and worried what warmth would do to the frozen machinery, how expansion would shift things. He glanced at a couple of synthesizers that had crunched into each other; they weighed several tons each. The notion that more of them might be dislodged while he was sleeping added to his claustrophobia, and he gave up on the sandwich.

Trying to sleep now would be useless, but he was tired, so he unrolled his plyplastic mattress on top of a biochemical refiner and lay down, wondering if he should compose a new mindscape file that might divert his anxiety—

Florian woke up when drops of cold water dripped onto his nose. All the ice in HGT54b had melted, leaving the resultant droplets clinging to every surface like persistent morning dew. He hadn't noticed the air getting hotter thanks to his e-m suit, which had maintained a constant body temperature while he slept, but now water was running across every piece of cargo, slicking their protective membranes as it formed slow runnels. The black grids dividing up the compartment were drizzling a light mist. Water was pooling at the bottom of the corridor. And for the first time since leaving the gondola, Florian could smell something: a curious bad air scent similar to the musk of a waltan fungus.

Overnight, the ANAdroids had rigged the inside of the compartment with lights. They'd also stripped the protective membrane off two of the wormhole generators and cleared some space around the big circular machines. The slim metal cases they'd brought with them were open, showing off an impressive collection of intricate tools and electronic gadgets. Sensor pads had been applied to the generator casings.

“More—morning,” Marek said cheerfully.

Florian checked his time display, surprised he'd slept for more than seven hours. “Where is everyone?” he asked. Only Marek, Fergus, and Valeri were left, gathered around the wormholes like devoted acolytes.

“On the sir—surface,” Marek told him. “There's a breakfast pik—pik—pack if you want one.”

“Maybe later. How are you doing with the wormhole generators?”

“Warming nicely now. The pre—pro—protective membranes had cold-welded to them. Tick—took some scraping to got get off. We should be able to start initializang—zing in a couple of hours. Their systems seem to be mainly intact.”

“Mainly?”

“Yes. We knew they wouldn't be perfectly prefect—perfect.”

Florian glanced around the cargo compartment again. Secondary routines flashed up turquoise identifier icons across the machines cocooned inside their glistening membranes. The potential locked away in this one space was phenomenal. Some of the synthesizers were even capable of full replication, building duplicates of themselves. If you coupled this single small trove of Commonwealth technology with all the knowledge Joey had given him, Bienvenido really would be building hyperdrive starships within twenty years. And this was only one small section of the
Viscount
's cargo.

“I'm going up to the surface,” he announced.

A plyplastic door had been fixed across the hole cut in HGT54b's side, keeping the precious heat in. It opened silently to let him pass. The lustrous ice tunnel was illuminated by small lights spaced uncomfortably far apart. His universe closed in oppressively again, not helped by him being alone on the awkward trek up to the surface.

The sun still hadn't risen when he finally emerged out onto the murky snowscape. Bright white light was shining down from the base of the gondola, fluorescing the minute ice particles swirling idly through the air. The gloomy empty vista it exposed was even more incongruous given the entombed leviathan below his feet. He saw Kysandra, Paula, and Ry huddled together with Demitri underneath the gondola.

Paula looked around as he walked over. “We may have a problem,” she said.

“What's happened?”

“The drones located the ship Anala was talking to. It's the
Pericato,
a marine ship. And it's also got nuclear weapons on board; the drone sensors detected their radiation signature.”

“Crud,” Florian grunted.

“That's not the problem,” Paula said.

“Oh. What is?”

“The drones also located the
Sziu.
It's heading southwest through the Straits of Tiree. The course it's taking will bring it to the coast due north from here—the shortest distance from us. It seems the Fallers know we're here. My guess is they'll bring the atom bombs ashore and try to deploy them against us.”

Florian just managed to resist turning a full circle to try to catch whatever Faller-animal was spying on them. “Can the
Gothora
intercept them?”

“No. Jymoar is farther north than the
Pericato.
”

“So what do we do?”

“We're assuming the warheads on the
Pericato
are short-range missiles,” Kysandra said. “The government developed the Aseri missile for Operation Reclaim—solid-fuel propellant with a fifteen-kilometer range. Good for taking out urban areas with a high concentration of Fallers. Should be useful against the
Sziu,
providing they know its location. At the moment they clearly don't—they're not on an interception course.”

“The drone also picked up
Pericato
's radio transmissions,” Ry said. “Major Danny is in command.”

“You'd think he would've had enough of the Fallers on the
Sziu
by now,” Kysandra muttered.

“He wants another chance for his moment of glory, no doubt,” Paula said. “Port Chana harbor wasn't anyone's finest hour.”

“You're going to tell him where the
Sziu
is?” Florian asked.

Even with most of her face covered by the e-m suit's hood, Paula's scowl was visible. “It's our only option.”

“I just cannot trust the marines,” Kysandra said. “Section seven dreamed up a plan, Operation Overload, in case they ever confirmed my location. It involves bombarding me with nukes, and the marines would carry out the attack. Giving them our location, or even a hint of it…That's asking a lot.”

“It would take them several days to reach us here,” Paula said. “The risk is small.”

“But why should we introduce any extra risks?”

“Fortunately, we have another option, or at least we can come at the problem from a different angle,” a grinning Ry said. “Someone else can tell Major Danny where the
Sziu
is; someone he'll trust. And they won't give us away.”

“You mean your friend?” Florian asked Ry. “The one in the Liberty?”

“I don't think we have a choice,” Ry said. “We need to get the
Sziu
's coordinates to the
Pericato.
And so far, Anala hasn't seen the
Sziu.
”

“And you trust her?” Florian demanded.

“Completely,” Ry said. “But we need to do this quickly. Even if the
Pericato
sails to intercept
Sziu
right now, it'll be touch and go if they can hit it before it reaches the coastline.”

“Time,” Kysandra said in dismay. “We cruised along for two hundred and fifty years, and now it's suddenly acute. I crudding hate the irony.”

Florian linked to the drone that was circling high above the coast and saw the
Sziu
steaming southwest at full speed. A weaker sensor return gave him the marine ship behind it. Different sensors were tracking the steady radio signal of the Liberty capsule skimming the top of the atmosphere. Choice really didn't come into it; this was simple logic. “For what it's worth, my vote is to call Pilot Major Em Yulei.”

Anala stared out of the port in some crazy belief she could actually make out Ry down there somewhere.

“Yeah, it's me.”

“Have you Fallen?” she whispered.

That wonderful chuckle of his filled her headphones. “No. But of course I would say that either way.”

That easy teasing—so
him. Surely no Faller could ever truly copy that?

“So then why are you calling?”

“Anala, I'm going to tell you why we're here in Lukarticar.”

“Why?” she asked automatically. No one at her preflight briefing could produce a reason other than that they might be seeking refuge from the Faller Apocalypse.

“We've been looking for the
Viscount.
Anala, we found her!”

“The
Visc
— No!” That wasn't possible. The
Viscount
was practically a myth, just like the Warrior Angel.
But she's now very real.

“It's buried under the ice. Anala, we're trying to recover Commonwealth technology that'll stop the Apocalypse.”

“You can do that?”

“We hope so. If we have enough time. So we need you to perform your mission and take out the
Sziu
without alerting the navy to where we are.”

She stared out of the port, across the terminator where the planet was in total darkness. Beyond that line, there was no way to distinguish between the snowfields of Lukarticar and the icy waters of the Polas Sea; both were completely black, as if that portion of the world had gone missing. “How can the
Sziu
be a problem for you?” she asked cautiously. “They briefed me—a proper briefing, security level one. You're with the Warrior Angel now, and she has weapons. The greatest weapons on the planet.”

“And the Fallers have atom bombs. We can't protect the
Viscount
if they detonate them. Anala, the marines have to intercept the
Sziu.
We know the
Pericato
is also carrying nuclear weapons. They have to stop the Fallers from reaching us.”

“I don't know where the
Sziu
is. I can't see it.”

“We can. Our sensors are tracking it, just like they're tracking you. You can guide the marines to it.”

She listened numbly as he read out a string of latitude and longitude coordinates:
Sziu
's speed and bearing. She so wanted to believe this was Ry, that there was hope, that the
Viscount
was genuine. But the other possibility was equally likely—that he had Fallen, that the location was a lie, that she'd send the
Pericato
on the wrong course, leaving the Fallers free to pursue the
Gothora III. I don't want to make this decision.

“That location you've given me is on the other side of the terminator. It's in the dark, Ry; I can't confirm it yet. If you're right, the
Sziu
will be in daylight for my next pass. I can tell the
Pericato
then.”

“That's too late, Anala. Major Danny has to catch them before they reach the coast. The only chance he has is if the
Pericato
starts after them now.”

“I can't, Ry. I can't do that.”

“This is what you've lived for, Anala, everything you've worked toward. This is your time to hit the Fallers, and hit them hard.”

“I have to have confirmation. You crudding know that. You know!”

“You trusted me before. Please, order the marines to intercept the
Sziu.
We're so close to the Commonwealth systems. I've seen the starship, and it's magnificent! We can fly across space again, Anala, real spaceflight, not just pissing about in orbit. We can get home to the Commonwealth. Don't let that future go. Don't let the Fallers win!”

“But I need verifiable data! And if you are Ry, you know this.”
Even if you're not Ry, you'll have his memories and know it.

“The Fallers don't have the technology to call a Liberty capsule. This is Commonwealth technology I'm using.”

“It's a radio signal, Ry. That proves nothing.”

“What do you need, Anala? What will it take?”

“I need to see the
Sziu.
”

She waited as the coastline slipped past underneath, cursing her own timidity.

“Ask General Delores,” Ry said finally.

“What?”

“If you don't trust me, tell General Delores what I've told you. Tell her we've given you the
Sziu
's position. She should know the truth; she has access to the highest government officials. Remember Stonal, the PSR official that interviewed me? He can confirm the Warrior Angel has been attempting to contact the prime minister. We were trying to do it through Captain Chaing. We can be trusted, I promise. Ask her. You should be in range of the coastal tracking station soon.”

“Four minutes,” she said automatically. Then she hesitated, deciding he deserved one last offering of trust. She owed him that—owed his memory if all she was talking to now was his Faller copy. “Ry, Adolphus himself is at Cape Ingmar.”

“You are crudding kidding me!”

A slight smile lifted her lips—that surprised indignation seemed impossible to fake; she could even see the expression on his face. A face she really missed. “No, I'm not. My mission is that important to them.”

“Then that might make this a whole lot easier. There's something you can say that he'll know only comes from the Warrior Angel.”

So far, every orbit had seemed to take scant minutes. Now, of course, it took forever for the capsule to slide closer to Lamaran's southern coast and contact with the ground station.