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Everyone behind me made sounds of frustration and exasperation. They quickly looked
at me. I knew what they were thinking: what was Riggs going to do? Capitulate for
the greater good, or go down fighting for the independence of Star Force?

I stared at the screen. I realized that Kerr had put me in a very bad spot. He’d set
me up to be the bad guy. Was I so vain I would waste the two greatest forces humanity
had ever assembled, letting them destroy one another?

Finally, I was ready to speak. My staff listened with glassy eyes. I think they were
in shock at the scope of the disaster that loomed before all of us.

“General,” I said. “I’m going to have to decline that offer. I’m going to make an
offer of my own in return: reverse course and go home. If you don’t want to help,
then let us do our jobs out here guarding the frontier against the machines. We will
not cross the no-man’s land of Alpha Centauri again. Let that remain a buffer zone
between Earth and Star Force territory. Maybe we can set up a trade route in the future.
Whatever your decision, this conversation is at an end. Good day, sir.”

I ordered the channel to be closed. I then turned my ship around and retreated back
through the ring. When we were safely on the far side, I pointed to Sandra, who ran
the communications console.

“Jam the rings,” I said. “Both of them, right now. I don’t want anyone passing any
more notes under my desk. Let them both wonder what happened to the force on the other
side.”

Sandra worked the controls, finally sending the resonant signals to the rings that
my entire staff had been begging me to send for weeks. Oddly, none of them looked
happy now that they had finally gotten their way. I guess there’s just no way to please
some people.

Over the next day, events slowly unfolded. The Macro fleet hung back. They didn’t
advance toward the ring that led to Eden, but instead slowly traveled toward the Crustacean
water-moons. On the opposite front, the Imperials were moving. They would soon be
ready to push through and invade the Eden system.

I grinned at the screen. I’d had a good night’s sleep and kicked off the morning sipping
caffeinated beverages. My crew looked disheveled, and I ordered several of them off
the command deck for some R&R.

“You all look like hell,” I told them, “particularly you, Sarin. Go get a shower and
something to eat. Take a nap, Miklos. You people need to learn how to pace yourselves.”

They left the deck, grumbling. Only Sandra looked relatively fresh, so I let her stay
and brief me. She had stamina, that girl. I guessed the Microbial treatments had helped
in that regard.

“The Macros are just sitting out there in the Thor system, Kyle. If both sides are
supposed to hit us at once, they have already screwed up. The machines are at least
a day behind the Imperial fleet now.”

I nodded and bit into my second donut. It was plain, glazed, and so fresh it was almost
juicy. “This could all be over before the machines make their move. Either they are
bewildered by the lack of data coming through the ring, or the Blues took our threats
seriously and told them to delay.”

“The Blues are cowards. I think they told the Macros to hang back after your threats.”

“You could be right. I
hope
you’re right. If that’s how it’s going down, the Blues have clearly decided to screw
the Empire rather than risk a bombing from us. In that case, we only have to face
one front, rather than two. Pull those ships back we have orbiting the Blues’ homeworld.
I want everything here at the Helios ring except for a few scout ships posted at the
battle station. We’ll mass everything we have against Kerr, who is still advancing.”

We spent another day watching the Imperial fleet approach. They stayed in formation
as they flew, displaying tight discipline. It struck me then how different a race
like the Worms were. The Worms reminded me of barbarian warriors: a mass of gifted
pilots flying in a shifting swarm, every individual eager to get to the enemy first
and prove himself the braver warrior. By comparison, Earth’s forces were very self-controlled
and resembled the Macros.

I had time to study the Crow’s ship-designs as they made their stately approach. The
core of the fleet was made up of big, almost gaudy ships. They weren’t quite like
anything we had. I figured Crow had combined the crude, mass-production capacity of
Earth and used nanotech for the detail work. The ships therefore resembled old-fashioned
sea-going vessels. They were built with flat planes of steel plating and cemented
together by nanites. I could see how this approach would greatly increase his production
rates. He’d harnessed the output of traditional Earth industry and build hybrid ships,
rather than constructing them entirely with Nano materials. With limited Nano factory
production, it was a logical thing to do to stretch his production to the maximum
that could be achieved.

It was also bad news for us. The Imperial fleet was
huge
. I’d previously calculated they could have produced about twenty cruisers and a hundred
or so destroyers over the months since I’d left Earth. That would have been bad enough.
But instead, we saw over a thousand ships. They were of designs we’d never encountered
before. Long, steel weapons-platforms with engines in the back, they appeared rectangular
in shape. They looked something like old Earth battleships, but without a triangular
lower hull and keel. They bristled with weaponry on every side. Their weapons and
sensors protruded unevenly, making them look ugly and threatening. They were the very
opposite of my comparatively sleek designs. No matter how displeasing they were to
the eye, I had no doubt they would be effective in combat once they were in range.

The biggest ships were at the forefront of the formation. These surprised me. As they
approached, I kept expecting a missile barrage. Instead, they didn’t fire until they
were at medium-long range. At this distance, they were outside the reach of our heavy
beams, but still within the reach of missiles.

“Railgun projectiles incoming, sir!” Miklos called out the alarm.

I startled awake in my command chair. I took a deep breath and squinted at the holotank.
“Railguns? Who’s firing at what?”

“The Imperials sir. Those big ugly battlewagons of theirs. We now know they have railguns
of their own, and they are firing at the ring. Fortunately, it will take nearly half
an hour at this range for the projectiles to reach us. Should we order our scouts
to stand, or pull back?”

I nodded thoughtfully. “He’s chasing off our scouts. He’s probably not inside his
effective range, but we can’t very well leave our ships sitting there, waiting to
find out if they’ll get a lucky hit. Pull back the scouts. We’ll wait for Kerr on
the Eden side of the ring.”

Miklos relayed the orders, and our view of the approaching enemy changed from solid
red objects to outlined wireframes. That meant the enemy positions were now theoretical.
We could no longer see them directly.

Sandra came up and touched my shoulder. “Do you think they’ll really come through
the ring, Kyle?” she asked me quietly. “Is Kerr that crazy? He has to know we’ll put
up a good fight, and we might even win.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I think he will come. He doesn’t know how strong we are,
and I’m not about to show him until he gets here. He doesn’t know about the Centaur
marines, how many gunboats I have, the mines we set up and the rest. He’ll expect
tricks, but if you do the math, we shouldn’t be able to resist him. We’re stronger
than we should be, due to having captured the Macro factories. The trouble is, I can’t
tell him that to warn him off without giving up critical information. It’s maddening.”

She touched my cheek and tried to comfort me. I stared at the holotank, and I knew
in my heart the battle I’d always hoped to avoid had finally begun.

-27-

Within minutes after I’d ordered the rings to be jammed, Marvin was on the command
deck. His tentacles and cameras were moving like palm fronds in the wind, even though
the stale air in the ship was oppressively still. He was clearly agitated.

“Colonel Riggs,” Marvin began. “I was under the impression that you were going to
allow me to finish my decoding work before jamming the rings.”

“That was the original plan,” I admitted, “but they’re advancing into range and firing
on us now. We don’t have time to screw around any longer. Did you manage to get anywhere
with the code?”

“The key is nowhere near complete. Less than seventy percent of the symbols are cataloged,
and my mapping of their protocol is woefully inadequate. If you were to ask me to
generate a false set of instructions, I would surely fail and be detected at this
point.”

I blinked at him. “That sounds like you got pretty far. Let me get this straight:
you can now transcribe most of what their transmissions say?”

“Yes, but critical details are constantly left out. I would not consider such documents
in any way accurate or reliable.”

“Just give me what you have!” I roared at him. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. Send
it to a text file and put it on the consoles. For every unknown reference, print a
set of Xs or something.”

“Incomplete data can be dangerous.”

“Only to them. Give me what you have.”

Reluctantly, Marvin sent a flurry of files to my attention. I opened them immediately
and began reading. Within thirty seconds, I relayed the data to everyone on my command
staff and ordered them to open the attachments.

There had been traffic between
all three
of our enemies. The Blues were clearly in the middle of the operation, talking to
both the Macros and Earth’s fleet. We were still missing much of the data, such as
the signatures of the transmitting parties. Unlike radio communications, there was
no easy way to determine the source of the transmissions technologically. But that
really didn’t matter. Following the context of the messages, such as references to
fleet positions and intentions, it quickly became obvious who was talking to whom.
When a message described a large fleet advancing into the Helios system, for example,
I knew the transmission had come from Earth.

“Crow is talking to the Blues?” Sandra asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Or at least Kerr is. It’s undeniable.”

“But does this indicate they’re in league with the Macros themselves?” Miklos demanded.
“We have to know that. Are there any direct messages from Crow to the Macros?”

After going over the messages Marvin had translated, I shook my head. The earlier
ones were mostly garbled. Only the most recent transmissions were relatively clear.
I marveled at Marvin’s mind once again. It was the fantastic moments like this which
gave me the strength to put up with all his antics. He was a gifted problem solver.
Upon reflection, I imagined that mad geniuses had always been critical to every war
effort, and were probably always difficult to deal with. I recalled reading that both
Michelangelo and Da Vinci had designed amazing war machines. I didn’t doubt for a
second they’d both been a pain in the ass to deal with personally.

“This puts us in a different strategic situation,” I told my people when we’d all
had time to digest the transcripts. “The transmissions don’t really tell us much that
we didn’t already know concerning enemy fleet movements. But, we now know the two
advancing fleets
are
in cooperation. The Blues seemed to be involved as go-betweens, having called upon
both Crow’s Imperial forces and enticing the next wave of Macros to advance. Does
anyone have anything to add? Give me input, team.”

“The strategy of the Blues is very clear, Colonel,” Miklos said, speaking up before
the others. “They don’t like us being here, so they formed alliances with the largest
powers in the region. I’m not sure how they expect to survive the coming conflict
as a sovereign entity, however.”

I shrugged. “I guess they made a deal. They’re helping the Macros, and when the machines
march in, they’ll sweep us aside. Just to make sure, they brought in Crow, too. Maybe
they hope the three of us will annihilate one another in an orgy of destruction.”

“In return for helping them,” Captain Sarin said, “I imagine the Blues have been assured
their neutrality will be respected by all sides.”

“Perhaps,” Miklos said, “and perhaps the machines will keep their deal. But I doubt
Crow will, if he wins the day. He’ll screw the Blues over and enslave them.”

I nodded in agreement. “But the Blues don’t know Crow the way we do,” I said. “They
seem to be good at sticking to the letter of their agreements, if not their spirit.
I’ve noticed the same tendency when dealing with the Macros—I guess that only makes
sense, since the Blues built the Macros in the first place.”

“In that case,” Miklos said, speaking slowly, “the Blues have miscalculated by including
Crow. I’m reminded of the Pact which Russia and Germany signed before invading Poland.
Stalin had no idea Hitler would violate the deal as soon as possible.”

I thought about it, frowning. I didn’t like Miklos’ analogy, but I had to agree that
it fit the situation. What I didn’t like about it was that
we
were Poland in this scenario. No one wanted to be compared to Poland’s grim fate
in World War II.