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The trouble was, the Centaurs were right, we were double-dealing the Macros. The Blues
had fooled them into thinking we were harmless, and they were operating on that piece
of data. We hadn’t let the Centaurs in on that detail, because I knew they wouldn’t
like any kind of subterfuge or trickery. Any of them would sooner die than participate
in such shenanigans. The fault was mine, as I’d not let them in on the deal.

I thought hard for another fifteen seconds. On the big screen, the two lines converged.
The column of Macros flowed like a river, pouring out the ring as if from a magic
jug that never stopped gushing out more machines. The Centaurs swarmed like blobs
of angry bees, roaring at top speed to intercept them. Fortunately, as marines their
lasers didn’t have the range to reach thousands of miles across space, or they doubtlessly
would have already broken the treaty by singing the nosecones of the approaching horde
of ships.

At last, I came up with an idea—an approach. I didn’t like it, as it involved covering
an omission with a lie. Weaving webs like that had gotten me into trouble in the past.
But this time, I didn’t see any other options.

“Allied herds,” I said over the channel to the Centaurs. “I beg forgiveness, because
I have twice committed the crime of vagueness. I have not explained the situation
properly to you or the Macros. Here is the situation: the Macros believe we have agreed
to a ceasefire. They are acting in good faith on this basis. Notice they have not
fired a shot at our ships? This is because they believe they have free passage through
our system.”

“Why would they believe such a thing?” Centaur Command asked. “It is not the way of
reality. Machine and life are antithetical. The blade cuts flesh, and the flesh melts
away the blade in flame. The camera can’t appreciate the warmth of the sun or the
freshness—”

“I know,” I said, interrupting for lack of time, “and it greatly discomforts me. It
was my intention to warn the machines to stay out of this star system. I told them
we would not attack them if they did not attack us—meaning I didn’t want them to fly
here and fire upon our ships. But they agreed to the arrangement, and extended the
meaning to include safe passage through our territory. They will not fire upon us,
as you can see. And it’s my belief that in order to behave honorably, we should not
fire upon them.”

They paused again. I checked the clock, which Captain Sarin was tapping at and looking
at me. We’d blown four minutes yapping.

“Centaurs,” I said, “I know that you weren’t party to this accidental agreement. But
I would ask that you save my honor by abiding by it today. At least until the Macros
are out of this system and the arrangement can be canceled. If we fire upon them today,
we will have dishonored ourselves.”

“Fur filled with urine and droppings,” said the Centaur voice sadly. “Hot winds full
of smoke, from a fire lit by your neighbor out of spite. The champion ram’s young
led to an unscalable cliff and urged to climb. Dishonor is a terrible burden, and
we would not wish it upon our allies this day.”

I blinked and stared at the console. I muted my microphone, then looked to Sarin and
Miklos.

“Does that mean they agree?” Jasmine asked in a hushed voice.

“The Centaurs are definitely all talking,” Sandra said. She monitored every transmission
in the region from her station. “They relayed your conversation out there to them.”

“Perhaps it means they agree, you’re dishonored, and they feel bad for you,” Miklos
suggested.

“I’m not sure what they mean,” I admitted. “What are they doing? Give me data.”

Jasmine worked her screen with flashing fingers. It was hard to determine the overall
behavioral pattern of thousands of flying marines in distant space.

“I think—I think they’re veering off course,” she said at last. “At least, most of
them are.”

“Maybe they put it to a vote,” Miklos said, “or let each individual decide what they
should do.”

I looked at him, and the data. “Yeah,” I said. “That’s what they did, I think. And
it looks like not every Centaur is going to contribute to my honor by letting go of
some of his own.”

We kept watching. A few individuals, tiny dots that were single pixels of color on
our screens, kept flying toward the Macros.

“We should shoot the down, sir,” Miklos said.

“And dishonor ourselves further in the eyes of our allies?”

“But this is a worst-case scenario,” he said. “We’re about to start a battle without
a plan, out of position, and by making only a token attack against the enemy.”

I opened a channel to the battle station. “Welter, prepare to fire all guns. If you
see a Macro ship blow up, unload on them all.”

“Roger that, sir.”

I watched the screens quietly. Everyone on the command deck stared until their eyes
stung. When the first tiny dots representing Centaurs merged with the big ships, I
bared my teeth.

“First strike—no explosion, sir,” Miklos said.

I frowned. “Did the warhead misfire?”

“Unknown.”

Two more Centaurs reached cruisers, and vanished. Then quickly, the number counted
up to seven. None of them had exploded.

I leaned back and took a deep breath.

“What the hell are they doing?” Sandra asked me.

“They’re ramming the ships. Tiny little balls of fur and muscle, slamming themselves
into the Macro cruisers at thousands of miles per hour. Not enough kinetic force to
do any damage. Less than a meteor strike, I’m sure. But they saved their own honor
that way, you see? Ours as well.”

“How?” Sandra asked. “I don’t understand these crazy people.”

“If they turned around in the face of the machines, even for a good reason, they would
have dishonored themselves. But if they’d set off their warheads and destroyed the
ships, they would have dishonored me. They chose to do neither, and to suicide into
the enemy. That way no one loses any honor.”

“Crazy mountain goats,” Sandra muttered, watching the screens.

We all sat quietly as the counter ticked up higher and higher. Out of some seventeen
thousand Centaur troops, six hundred and twenty-two decided to dash their brains out
pointlessly upon the cold, steel prows of the Macro ships. I found it ironic that
the machines inside could never comprehend their behavior, and no doubt marked it
down as some kind of inexplicable malfunction.

In a way, I guess, they were right.

-36-

The next day was tense, but the tension slowly drained from all of us as the monstrous
Macro fleet sailed by and flew deeper into the Eden system. They took their time,
cruising by the world of the Blues, patrolling near both Eden-11 and Eden-7 before
heading toward some of the outer worlds.

By this time, the Macros had changed their formation. Rather than a thin column, they
flew in a huge diamond, which was made up of hundreds of smaller diamonds. These four-pointed
groups were arranged in space so as not to block one another’s field of fire if a
fight did break out.

In their wake traveled another group. Like a pack of faithful dogs, the Crustacean
troop ships trailed their masters obediently. I looked after them and shook my head.
We must have looked like that at one time, like the clueless tools of the machines.
I wondered if any other biotics had ever considered us to be as pathetic as the Lobsters
looked to me right now.

“So,” Miklos said in the morning. “It appears we have houseguests. What are we going
to do while they nose around here? It’s like having a shark in your living room.”

“More like a T-rex,” Sandra said. “Are they just going to fly around until we attack
them accidentally? Or are they gathering intel to make the most devastating strike
they can when they break their deal?”

Jasmine lifted her hand. She’d never gone off-duty like the rest of us. As far as
I could tell, she’d quietly manned her post all night without more than a five minute
break now and then.

“What is it, Captain?” I asked.

“They have chosen a new course. I can predict it with ninety-five percent accuracy.”

“Where?”

“The Helios ring. They’re heading to the next system.”

I stood up, spilling my coffee. It fell to the floor, where the nanites in the hull
swallowed up the liquid, then soon after the coffee cup itself.

“The Worms,” I said. “Do they know about the deal?”

It was Marvin’s turn to speak up. He’d been absent during the confrontation with the
Centaurs and the Macros. But now he was on the bridge and appeared to be planning
to make himself a permanent fixture here.

“Colonel Riggs,” he said. “I took the liberty of telling the Worms what the situation
was. They indicated they would maintain a neutral stance, and not provoke the Macros.”

I shook my head. “That’s not good enough. The Macros know who they are. They have
marked them down for death. They aren’t part of any deal we have with the machines.
They are not in this ceasefire.”

Everyone looked at me reluctantly. I could tell right off what they were thinking:
let the Worms die. Better them than us.

“Unacceptable,” I said. “It’s one thing to keep the Centaurs in the dark. The purpose
of that was to keep them breathing as a species. But this is different.”

“You did more than keep them in the dark,” Miklos commented. “You fed them bullshit
with a spoon, sir.”

“Whatever,” I said, “open a channel with the Macros, Sandra. Before they leave the
system.”

“Channel open.”

“Macro Command,” I said. “The biotic species known as the Worms are known to us. They
have agreed to abide by all agreements we have made with you.”

We waited, but they made no response.

“Did they get that, Sandra? Are you certain?”

She nodded.

“Macro Command: this is Colonel Kyle Riggs of Star Force. We require that you comply
with the terms of our agreement. We further require that you acknowledge your compliance.”

“Something is coming in…” Sandra said. “It’s binary.”

Marvin quickly volunteered to interpret. “Incoming message:
We will comply with the terms of our agreement.
”

I frowned. Did that mean they were going to leave the Worms alone, or were they going
to blast them?

“You will not attack the Worms,” I said. “Doing so will violate the terms of our agreement.”

“Incoming message:
Referenced biotic species is not included in this subset.
”

“Yes, they are,” I said, “we are allied with them. The Blues are allied with them.
By inference, you are allied with them.”

“Incoming message:
Referenced biotic species is not included in this subset.
”

I made a guttural sound of frustration. I knew the Macros. When they got into one
of these moods where they kept repeating themselves, they weren’t going to change
their minds.

“We request that you add them to the subset of species included on the no-kill list.”

“Incoming message:
Request denied.
”

“They will annihilate them, Kyle,” Sandra said.

“I know,” I said, “we got them into this, too. They lost half their fleet fighting
for us against Crow’s ships, and now we return the favor by talking the Macros into
bypassing us to destroy them.”

“You must save them,” Sandra said. “Lie. Do anything.”

I looked at her and at the others circled around. I nodded. “Sandra, start jamming
the ring that leads back to the Thor system. I don’t want the macros to report back
anything I’m going to tell them now.”

She went to work on it, and signaled me when it was done.

“Macro Command,” I said, “the biotic species known as the Worms can’t harm you effectively.
They can, however, be a valuable ally. I see you have troop ships in your wake. The
Worms will provide Worm troops upon your return, when you need fresh troops.”

This was met with stony silence for a time. Finally, I contacted them again.

“Macro Command, we require you to accept or reject the terms of this arrangement.”

“Incoming message:
Terms rejected.
”

 “We require you to tell us why you reject these terms.”

“Incoming message:
The biotic homeworld of this species will be unable to support life upon our next
visitation. Therefore, the agreement is meaningless.
”

I tightened my face and nodded. Their intentions were clear. “The Worms are not a
threat. They could be a valuable ally. Do not attack their homeworld, and there will
be troops there to pick up upon your next visitation.”

“Incoming message:
Terms accepted.
”

Everyone cheered me, except Miklos.

“What are you going to tell the Worms, sir?” he asked. “They will never agree to this.
They will not serve the Macros.”

“Yeah, well, I bought them some time to defend themselves. Maybe by that time, we
can knock these machines down.”