Wolf Among the Stars-ARC (27 page)

“Captain,” called the comm rating just as Andrew was ordering evasive action, “Borthru acknowledges. They’re—”

“I see them,” said Andrew as the green icons began to flash into existence. Then he turned back to Rachel, who was staring at him with the round eyes of someone who had never been in a space battle before, and resumed where he had left off. “Still, assuming that they haven’t found the bomb and disarmed it or, more likely, sent it out into space, it should be just about—”

All at once, the control room was bathed in a white glare from the view-aft.

“—now.”

The generator for the station’s invisibility field must have survived the blast for some fraction of a second, because the nuclear explosion was already in progress when it became visible. So it was even more startlingly abrupt than such things normally are. One millisecond there were the serene star fields against their black velvet backdrop; the next there was a new, temporary sun that dazzled the eyes of anyone who happened to be looking at the view-aft at that moment. A rapidly expanding and dissipating cloud of glowing debris surrounded it, for the Kappainu space station had been too massive to be simply vaporized. There were even some fairly substantial chunks, which was one reason they hadn’t dared to cut their escape too fine.

Rachel slumped down into her acceleration couch, weak with reaction. There was a scattering of cheers. Andrew did not join them, to Rachel’s evident surprise. His face remained unrelievedly grim as he studied the tac plot. Rachel looked over his shoulder. He knew she didn’t understand all the supplemental data displays, but the crawling color-coded icons were self-explanatory.

City of Osaka
was forging ahead along the orbit the Kappainu station had formerly followed around the distant sun. As they watched, its point defense lasers dealt with all but one of the missiles, and the deflection shield held off the survivor’s bomb-pumped laser. No more missile-icons had separated from the scarlet icons of the enemy ships, whose crews were doubtless stunned by the cataclysmic destruction of their base and further rattled by the appearance of Borthru’s force.

That paralysis, Andrew was coldly certain, would not last.

The two formations of icons crept toward each other in the tac plot. Both were equally slaves to the same orbital mechanics as
City of Osaka
. The red one swept forward and outward from a point of origin slightly sunward of the space station’s former location. The green ones converged inward. But they both followed courses that would shortly bring them together in a maelstrom of techno-annihilation.

And in between, the tiny white icon of
City of Osaka
was on course to be ground between the upper and nether millstones.

“Mister Davis,” Andrew suddenly rapped out, “we’ve got to get out of here. Apply a vector tangent to our present course that will take us in a sunward direction. It’s our best avenue for getting out of the battle that’s about to commence.”

Rachel looked at the tac plot and then at Andrew. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look, for he knew her background had not prepared her for this. Her early hero worship of her father had been overrun by her parents’ divorce, when her mother had taken her into a world where the military mind-set was neither understood nor admired. She was still conflicted, and out of her element in this control room. But what she saw in Andrew’s face seemed to embolden her to speak up.

“Uh, Andy, not that I know anything about it, but is there really going to
be
a battle? I mean, now that their base is gone, won’t the Kappainu ships just make transition into overspace—which I know they can do, ‘way out here—and go home? Or am I just being naïve?”

“No, you’re not. I imagine that’s exactly what they’d like to be doing. But they don’t dare. If they did, Borthru could go into overspace and follow them. And then we’d know the location of their home system—and they must be
really
afraid of that. No, before they can go home they have to destroy every ship in a position to observe them.”

“Including this one,” she said evenly.

“That’s why I’m taking us out of the line of fire. This ship has got no business in the battle that’s about to begin. And for a while, at least, the Kappainu are going to be otherwise occupied.”

Rachel stared, clearly mesmerized, as the red and green icons continued on their convergent courses, the green ones spawning a scattering of offspring as Borthru’s cruisers launched their fighters. Before the antagonists interpenetrated, the space between them began to be crisscrossed by missile salvos. Those tiny icons began to flash bewilderingly as they were destroyed by defensive fire or else got through and detonated as was their destiny. Then the opposing forces slid together into the range of their shipboard lasers, and any attempt at formations dissolved into a brutal melee. Ship-icons began to flicker and die in the ravening hell of directed-energy fire.

“Can Borthru win?” Rachel breathed.

“Maybe,” said Andrew without looking up at her. “He’s heavily outnumbered, but his five cruisers are bigger than anything the Kappainu have got. And it’s clear from the tactical analysis that he’s taking advantage of that.”

“Clear to some people, maybe,” muttered Rachel, obviously bewildered and appalled by the prettily colored light show of death she was watching.

“He’s deployed his frigates and the cruisers’ fighters outward in a kind of umbrella,” Andrew explained. “They’re trying to sort of herd the Kappainu inward, into the concentrated fire of the cruisers, which he’s keeping close together so they can datalink without appreciable time lag. The Kappainu don’t seem to have been able to work out a very effective counter to his strategy.”

“Why not?”

“Well, they’ve probably grown so dependent on their cloaking technology that they’re having trouble dealing with enemies who can detect them. I wonder if they may also be overdependent on central control from their late, unlamented space station, and now find themselves on their own. And on top of all that, the Kappainu lack experience in space combat—not their style. The Rogovon, on the other hand, do have experience, thanks to—”

“—Their war with us.”

“Right.” Andrew finally looked up and met Rachel’s eyes. “They’re not likely to forget the lessons your father taught them.”

“With help from a lot of others,” Rachel added. “Including, as I recall, you.”

Andrew did not trust himself to reply, for he could not let the moment last—he had too much to think about. So he contented himself with a wordless smile before turning his attention back to the display and the readouts.

Rachel watched, too. But since it all meant less to her, it captivated her attention less totally than Andrew’s.

Thus it was that she was the first to notice the tiny red icon in a portion of the plot remote from the battle.

“Andy,” she said hesitantly, “I don’t want to bother you, but isn’t this a hostile ship?”

His eyes followed her pointing finger, and he stiffened.

“Mister Davis!” he snapped. “Verify the tac display return at—” He rattled off coordinates.

Davis went to the sensor station, then turned to Andrew, his young face flushed with excitement. “It checks, sir. That’s an unidentified and presumably hostile ship on a sunward course compatible with having departed the space station just before it blew.”

Rachel held Andrew’s eyes. “Didn’t Valdes say something about—”

“—His private ship,” Andrew nodded. “Mister Davis, change course immediately. We will pursue that ship.”

“Sir?” Davis’ voice rose to a squeak and broke.

“You heard me. I believe that’s Valdes, running away. He thinks we’re too distracted to notice him—and he knows Borthru is fighting for his life and can’t detach a ship to follow him home even if he
is
noticed. But
we
can follow him!”

“But what can we do to him, with no ship-to-ship weapons . . . sir?”

For a manic instant, Andrew was reminded of the old chestnut about a dog chasing a car: What would he do with it if he caught it? But, he told himself, it wasn’t applicable here.

“We don’t need to fight him,” Reislon explained to Davis. “All we need to do is follow him in overspace to his destination, then turn around and come back—and we’ll know the location of the Kappainu home system!”

Andrew could almost see the proverbial lightbulb going on in midair above Davis’s head. “And now, Lieutenant, I’ll be obliged if you carry out your orders.”

“Aye, aye, sir!” Davis wrenched
City of Osaka
into a tight course change to follow the red icon on the nav plot, which seemed to be shaping a flat hyperbolic course that, if continued indefinitely, would pass Sol at a distance of about one astronomical unit.

“Why is Valdes heading across the inner solar system?” asked Rachel in her now-accustomed state of bewilderment.

“I suppose his destination is some star somewhere on the far side of Sol from here, and he might as well be headed in the right course when he makes transition,” said Andrew. But in fact he felt puzzled himself.

“Captain,” Davis spoke up. “I’ve been analyzing the sensor readings on that ship—specifically, the mass readings. And it’s a pretty small ship, less than corvette-sized. Furthermore, the acceleration it’s pulling suggests a drive whose mass requirements would . . . well, sir, the bottom line is, that ship can’t possibly mount an integral transition engine.”

“Will its course take it to any of Sol’s transition gates?” Andrew demanded.

“Negative, sir,” said Davis after a brief check. “Nowhere close to them.”

Andrew thought furiously and stared at the nav plot.
Funny,
he thought as he studied Valdes’ projected course.
It’s almost as though he’s
. . .

“Lieutenant,” he ordered, “put the planetary orbits on the nav plot and have the computer project the position of Earth at the time the hostile ship will be at its closest approach to Sol.”

“Aye, aye, sir. I’ll speed both of them up.” The scarlet icon zoomed ahead on its course, like a bead sliding along a string. At the same time, a tiny circle representing Earth swung around Sol on its orbital path. The two came together and intersected.

“It can’t be coincidence,” Andrew thought aloud, “especially since Valdes is coming in from outside the plane of the ecliptic, making it in effect an interception in three dimensions.”

“He’s not fleeing from the solar system at all!” blurted Davis.

“No,” said a new voice. “He’s going back to Earth.”

Andrew swung around. “Damn it, Lieutenant Morales, I ordered you to sick bay!”

“The corpsman declared me fit to return to duty, Captain.”

“I’ll just bet he did! You bullied him into it. But now that you’re here, I suppose you may as well stay. And you’re absolutely right. Legislative Assemblyman Valdes is going to resume his career without a break.”

“But he
can’t!
” protested Rachel. “Not now, after what‘s happened.”

“Why not? Nobody back on Earth knows what’s happened. He’ll reestablish himself in his Valde’ persona, after which it will be his word against ours—and guess who’ll win.”

“But Andy,” Rachel persisted, “it won’t be just our word. We’ll have the med scanners—”

“Come on! Do you really think we’ll get a chance to use them? And even if we did, he’d be able to suppress the results, given the power he’ll be able to bring to bear and the inherent implausibility of our story.” Andrew shook his head. “No. He’ll be back in place and the Kappainu can resume their grand plan. The loss of their base in the Sol system will be inconvenient but not catastrophic.”

“But if Borthru succeeds in wiping out their forces—”

“Even if he does—and we can’t count on it—do you really believe the CNE will listen to Rogovon?
Any
Rogovon? No, the human race will still be ripe for use as the Kappainu’s dupes!” For an instant, looking at Andrew’s face, Rachel thought he was in physical pain. Then his features cleared, leaving nothing but determination.

“Mister Davis,” he said, “belay my previous order to simply follow that ship. We will pursue and overtake it. We’ve got to stop Valdes from reaching Earth.”

“But Captain,” asked Morales, “
how?
”

And there was the rub. Unbidden and unwelcome, the dog-and-car joke came back to gibe at Andrew, because now it had become all too relevant.

“I don’t know.” It was something a skipper was never supposed to say, but Andrew found he couldn’t lie to these people, not after what he and they had been through together. “We’ll just have to improvise, and do whatever seems indicated.” He didn’t need to add that that
whatever
might involve their own deaths. Nor did anyone else bring it up. They simply muttered “Aye, aye, sir,” and turned to their duties. Rachel said nothing.

“I’m sorry you’re caught up in this,” Andrew told her.

“Don’t be. I asked for it. And I couldn’t be going through it with better people.”

But it soon became apparent that they weren’t going to be able to overhaul their quarry. He had too much of a head start, and Davis had been right about the strength of his drive, for he was capable of practically equaling
City of Osaka
’s sustained acceleration. It was a stern chase that could not succeed.

“What does the computer say, X.O.?” Andrew demanded after a while.

“It says, ‘almost,’ sir,” Morales reported quietly.

“Thank you.” Andrew glared at the nav plot, oblivious to the occasional reports of the battle they had left behind, whose outcome was still in doubt. He focused on his ship’s green icon, as though he could somehow will more speed into it. It was frustrating—no, maddening—to be crawling like this across the Solar system’s mere billions of kilometers in normal space. In overspace,
City of Osaka
could leap the light-years . . .

Abruptly, it hit him.

“X.O.,” he heard himself saying before the idea was even fully formed, “cut the drive immediately. And prepare for transition into overspace.”

“Sir?” Morales looked up with a blank look that everyone in earshot shared. “But . . . where are we going? I thought we were pursuing Valdes to Earth.”