The Dying Light (41 page)

“Does that mean I’m in?” he asked.

“No.” She pushed him in the chest. He staggered back a step, “Uri, close and seal airlock three. Don’t let anyone else on board without my express permission.”

“Yes, Morgan.” The hatch cut off any further protests Mavalhin might’ve made.

She hurried to the bridge with Haid behind. “Uri, are we ready to go?”

“All systems are one hundred percent operational. Maii and Cane are secure, as are our passengers in the hold.”

“The Kesh didn’t try anything while they had access to you?”

“They didn’t have time.”

“Good.” She reached the bridge and settled into her usual chair at the first officer’s station, allowing herself a brief but satisfactory smile as she did. “Disengage from Galine Four and bring us about.”

As the mighty engines stirred, a message arrived from General Darkan:

THERE WILL BE NO NEGOTIATION.

“That settles that, then,” said Haid from his position at the weapons console.

“Ameidio,” she said, swiveling to face him. “You should be in sickbay!”

“Morgan, you need all the people you can get at the moment, and you know it.
Especially
if we lose the Box.”

She was about to snap back a negative when the view through her left eye suddenly changed.

She was receiving a feed from one of the
Sebettu
’s many gun emplacements. Through its sensors she saw a pyramidal formation of all-suits circling the station and its attendant destroyer. The
Sebettu
’s powerful weapons had been trained upon them, monitoring them in case they tried to attack. At the center of the formation was Yarrow’s warped black all-suit.

As Roche watched, the destroyer’s weapons fired, instantly vaporizing four of the outriggers. Another six were disabled. The black all-suit tried its best to dodge the incoming fire, but without success. One glancing shot cracked it open and a cloud of frozen air jetted out of the interior. Its engines fired nonsensically before guttering out entirely. The remaining all-suits ceased flying in a purposeful way at the same time, their central control removed. With the threat gone, the dead all-suits were allowed to tumble away into the darkness.

Her vision returned to normal.

“Morgan!” Kajic appeared in the center of the bridge. “Their weapons are turning on
us
now.”

“Any fighter activity?” she asked Haid.

“None. It’s just us and them.”

“That’s all they’ll need. Take evasive action,” she ordered.

She gripped her armrest as the
Ana Vereine
rolled beneath her. The destroyer’s forward batteries flashed, and a wave of flicker-bombs swept over one of the ship’s nacelles, making it shudder.

“Damage?”

“Minimal,” Kajic replied. “The disruptors held, just.”

“How much of that can we take?”

“I’d rather not find out.”

“Can we outrun them?”

“In the short term, yes, although their engines are designed for the long haul and would eventually catch us.”

“Get us out of here, then. Box, is there anything you can do at your end? I still want to get you back if I can.”

The AI’s voice came from the speakers at the front of the bridge: “My resources here are severely limited. The entire command grid is completely separate from the rest of the ship’s systems. I was lucky to take them unawares once, but I would not be so lucky again. Most likely they would immediately guess the source of the misleading data, expel me from the ship, and destroy me. That way you would gain nothing.”

Roche reluctantly conceded the point. On the main screen, the enormous bulk of the destroyer had begun to recede. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you can get yourself expelled but
not
destroyed, is there?” she said dryly.

“Morgan,” Kajic interrupted. “They are no longer targeting us.”

“Excellent.” She turned to face the ex-captain. His face, surprisingly, was still grim.

“Its weapons are now aimed at Galine Four,” he said.

“
Damn!
” Although Galine Four had more firepower than the
Ana Vereine
, it was about as maneuverable as an asteroid. The station and everyone on it would be nothing but target practice for the destroyer’s novice gunners.

But that wouldn’t matter to the general. What had she said?
We will erase this place from our memories!
It seemed she had something more literal in mind than just determined forgetfulness.

“Ameidio, Uri—we don’t have much choice. We have to draw its fire. The only way I can think to do that is to attack. So get ready. We move in as soon as possible.”

No one argued with her, except the Box.

She felt the engines stirring beneath her as though her own veins were vibrating, and she wondered if this was a pale echo of what it was like to be Uri Kajic. “I can’t let innocent people die just so I can make an easy escape, Box.”

“What’s it to you, anyway? You’re safe regardless. Unless, of course, the general decides to crack you open later.”

The Box was silent for a moment Then:

It wasn’t as if she had much choice: Maii was still in a coma, the Box was useless, she was generally outgunned and underequipped. But there was nothing new about that. “I have to at least try.”

To the others she said: “Fire as soon as we’re in range. Take us in close and fast then back for another pass. If it doesn’t work, keep hitting them. The moment they come after us, we move.”

“Should I plot a specific course?” Kajic asked.

“No. Let’s just see what happens.”

She forced herself to lean back into the seat’s firm embrace.

“In range in five seconds,” said Kajic.

said the Box.

“Three.”

Batteries of weapons poised to fire upon the station were suddenly given a new target. A-P cannon rotated; missiles recalculated their hyperspatial trajectories.

“One.”

The
Sebettu
fired.

A maelstrom of energy tore apart the space ahead of the Marauder, and there was no avoiding it. Shields did their best to keep out the worst, but some inevitably burst through. The hull screamed in at least two places. Repair systems were overloaded with input.

But the
Ana Vereine
held. Kajic kept its course true while Haid did his best to return fire. Two emplacements burned in a flash on the hull of the destroyer, then a third. A severed sensor tower pinwheeled into a blast meant for the
Ana Vereine
and disintegrated instantly. A lucky strike opened a rent in the hull four decks long, black and ugly, spilling air and Kesh personnel.

Then they were through. Roche steadied herself as the
Ana Vereine
turned for another pass, but the smell of smoke in the air made her think twice.

“Can we do that again?”

“We’ve lost two shield generators,” Kajic said with a pained expression. “We have breaches on three levels and meltdown in two others. Structural integrity is down by twenty-five percent. In short, I don’t know, Morgan. It’d be close.”

“Engines?”

“Undamaged.”

“Good. What about the
Sebettu
? Is it following?”

“It is turning about,” said the Box over the main speakers. “Weapons are locked.”

“Then forget the second pass. We’ve got what we wanted.” She stood, unable to sit any longer. “Uri, head for the Gauntlet’s edge—maximum acceleration.”

A map appeared on the main screen: the boundary of the solar envelope rippled and shimmered like a gray aurora.

said the Box.

“But that’s only the outer rim, right? The thing as a whole is shaped like a disk, and the edge is collapsing most rapidly. If we go up or down, it should be more stable.”

“Good.” Roche was outwardly unperturbed. “Uri, aim for the most unstable piece within range. Up or down. Get us there as quickly as you can. If I’ve annoyed our friend the general enough, she’ll be coming after us with all engines firing.”

“That appears to be the case.” Kajic brought up a display showing bright emission halos around the destroyer and its rapidly changing red shift.

“How long until we reach the boundary?”

“Fifteen minutes, Morgan. I have located a region in which parts of Autoville have been destroyed, upsetting the boundary’s stability. Space-time in that region is highly stressed.”

“Perfect. Box, you know what I want to do?”

“That’s what you’re here for.”

“Then we’ll just have to do it on our own.” Roche thought for a moment. “Uri, drop proximity and impact mines and dump everything in the cargo hold we can spare—even excess water if we’ve got it. Give them a wake to run into; keep them annoyed any way you can.”

Roche sat back down and tried not to fidget. The tension in Haid’s shoulders was noticeable even from behind, as was the pallor of his normally midnight-black skin. He had lost more blood than she’d thought.

“We have time to kill, Ameidio,” she said. “At least get some painkillers.”

He turned and gave her a wry smile. “In a few minutes it might be irrelevant.”

She shrugged, the smile on her own face uneasy and forced. “Maybe,” she whispered.

“The
Sebettu
’s flight profile is confirmed,” Uri said. “It will be within firing range in twelve minutes.”

“And how long until we reach the boundary?” asked Roche.

“Approximately twelve minutes. The margin for error is high given the region’s instability.”

Roche nodded. “See if you can get a response from them. Ask for Lieutenant Haden B’shan.”

Kajic nodded.

Roche waited. The risk was high—doubly so without the Box to coordinate things. But she refused to believe that it couldn’t be done—that she and the people with her, who had already done so much, couldn’t meet this one, final challenge.

The fact that it probably
wouldn’t
be the last chance they took together didn’t matter. One at a time, she told herself. If she didn’t make it over
this
hurdle, the ones that would’ve followed were irrelevant.

“We have a response,” said Kajic eventually. “Putting it on the main screen now.”

B’shan appeared, looking uncomfortable. Perhaps having the enemy name you specifically meant a loss of face in the Kesh code of honor. Roche didn’t worry about that. She had more chance of reasoning with B’shan than any of the others.

“This is your last chance,” she said. “We’ll be at the halfway point in less than a minute. After that it’ll be too late to turn back. We’ll hit the boundary whether we like it or not.”

B’shan nodded slowly. “We are aware of that, and we know what you’re trying to do. But it won’t work.”

“No? You’re not as maneuverable as we are.”

“We’re not completely inept, either, Roche. We have had more experience doing this than you. If you make it, the chances are we will too—and then what? There’s nowhere you can run to on the outside.”

“So it doesn’t really matter if I make it or not, does it?”

B’shan stared at her for a long moment. “What about the others, Roche?” he said. “Do you have the right to decide for them?”

Roche laughed. He was trying to appeal to her Pristine side. A Kesh simply didn’t think like that. He knew her kind well enough to know what buttons to push.

“Nice try, B’shan.” She glanced at the countdown; the halfway point had just flashed by. “You just missed your last chance to end this sensibly. We’ll either see each other on the other side, or...” She paused for a few seconds. “Or we won’t, I guess. Goodbye, Lieutenant.”

She turned to Kajic without waiting for a response. “Kill it.”

The image winked out, and was replaced by a map of the boundary. She couldn’t grasp the scale of it, because its surface was fractal in nature; the closer they came to it, the more detail appeared, making it look as if they were traveling nowhere.

“Who’s the spokesperson for the people in the hold?” she asked.

“The outrigger named Lud.”

“Can I speak to him?”

“I hear you, Morgan Roche,” said Lud.

“
Are
you willing to go along with this?”

“We allied ourselves to your cause,” he said. “Regardless of our personal preferences, we will stand by you as a group.”

She nodded. “Does that mean you yourself would rather not be here, because if that’s the case we can drop you off in an escape capsule—”

“As I said, what
I
would like doesn’t enter into it.” The tone of his voice was wry. “Besides, we both know I would be shot instantly.”

“That’s true.” She repressed a slight smile. “Well, it’s good to have you aboard, Lud. Maybe we can get you back in touch with your all-suit when this is over and done with.”

“Unlikely,” Lud said. “It was destroyed in the initial attack.”

The line closed between them. Roche pondered the outrigger’s words—and his situation—for longer than she realized. When she looked at the clock there were only three minutes remaining. The
Sebettu
was looming large in the aft screens, forward guns at the ready.

“Box?”

There was an appreciable lag before the AI replied.

“Any advice?”

She thought about it for a moment. “What the hell does that mean?”