The Machinery of Light (65 page)

“How’s it looking up there?” asks Lynx.

“You don’t want to know.”

W
hat kind of a flight plan is that?” asks Jarvin.

“It’s no flight plan,” says Spencer.

“You mean—”

“Yeah.”

The AI’s spitting out preliminary computations regarding the last section of the files that Sinclair possessed and Jarvin stole and Spencer almost cracked. The fact that Haskell augmented the AI is
no small factor in the breakthrough it’s managed to make. The overall parameters on the remaining section of the file coalesce on zone. Row upon row of solved equations—

“Can we get this in English?” says Jarvin.

“Almost there,” says the AI.

“So are we,” says Spencer.

A withering barrage of KE hits the megaship.

S
oftware uploads stream into Sarmax’s suit. Hands haul him up from his perch, drag him through a hatchway.

A voice echoes in his head.

“Christ, we’ve missed you,” it says.

A
lmost … there,” says Lynx.

He’d better be. And he’s got more than a few incentives to minimize the amount of time he spends near these microfission chambers. Radiation readings are going off the charts all around him as he runs zone. The
Harrison
keeps shuddering as it takes fire. Lynx can almost feel those battering rams in space streaking in toward him …

T
he AI will have it all figured out within the next thirty seconds. But they’re now hurtling in upon the left flank of the L2 fleet—which isn’t even trying for evasive action. Instruments show the nose of their megaship has been shot off. Doesn’t matter. The rest of it is still racing forward, like an ancient war-elephant about to hurl itself upon a phalanx that’s bracing desperately to receive it. The massed guns of the L2 fleet are a wall of flaring light.

“We’re not meant to survive this,” says Jarvin.

“You just figured that out?”

H
e’s dragged into some kind of confined space—opens his eyes to behold—

“Indigo,” he whispers.

“Hold on,” she replies.

T
he megaships spear through the L2 fleet, choosing courses that send them slotting in between the larger ships, smashing through the lesser ones. Total carnage ensues. Clouds of debris and flame show their paths as they rocket in toward the center, shedding pieces of their hulls the whole time. The Operative watches as they converge on the
Harrison’s
position. He knows better than to ask what the situation is back at the stern. On the outer bridge, Maschler and Riley are starting to look like they’d rather be somewhere else.

T
he computer keeps processing the last of the files as Spencer starts modularizing the cockpit, slamming all blast-doors in anticipation of imminent collision. So far the megaships coming in from both sides have avoided hitting any of the larger ships. But they’re clearly about to make an exception for the
Harrison
.

“Brace yourself,” says Spencer.

“Very funny,” says Jarvin.

S
armax gets it now. He’s in some kind of dropship. So is she. Along with the triad’s two other members. He recognizes them, but they mean nothing to him. They’re manning the controls, powering up the craft, getting ready to launch. She’s holding his glove in hers.

S
he steps out of the elevator, into a chamber that contains a single mammoth door, reinforced and shimmering with energy. The gateway through the inner perimeter. She takes a deep breath—

L
inehan watches the megaships fill all screens, then turns around as Lynx scrambles into view, slamming hatches shut behind him.

“Done,” says Lynx.

“Did you hear that?” asks Linehan.

“Believe it,” replies the Operative—

—a
s he fires the antimatter drive up. The
Harrison
suddenly lurches forward.
Hammer of the Skies
just misses the flagship, shoots behind it, smashes another dreadnaught dead amidships—the combined burning mass torpedoes like a meteor past the incoming
Righteous Fire-Dragon—