The Gripping Hand (34 page)

"Buckman, get an antenna through that!"

"Done. We've got ships in all directions . . not so many toward the Mote . . . I think I see
Atropos
."

An orange blob, close, cooling .. . darkening to red, but not contracting. Definitely
Atropos
. The Moties' expanding Langston Field had revolutionized Empire warfare; but
Atropos
had been built for duty at the Eye, where an expanding Field only meant more surface area to absorb heat from the star.

"I have
Atropos
on the line."

"Good. Rawlins, what's your situation?"

"Stable. We were attacked the moment we came through, Captain Renner. Two fleets, one that shoots at us, one that shoots at the other fleet.

"When the Motie embassy ship,
Phidippides
, came through, one fleet started shooting at her. I moved in front of her and shot back. When I did, everyone else got in the act."

"How's
Phidippides
?"

"That's her on the other side of us, with an expanding Field, yellow and getting worse. The one that's not shooting back. Now that we're in front of her it's not critical unless they're hit by torpedoes."

"Can you protect them?"

"Yes, sir. We can't talk to the other fleet, but they cooperate. Between us we slagged one of the enemy just after you came through. Commodore, we haven't seen torpedoes yet, just lasers and particle beams. We're in a general fleet engagement, but beyond watching over you and the Motie ship I don't know the objective. It's all guns, all the ships have expanding Fields—"

"
Sinbad
, this is
Phidippides
. Are you unhurt?"

The Motie was speaking in Horace Bury's voice, blurred by noise, probably still affected by Jump shock despite having gone through well before
Sinbad
. Renner grimaced. He said, "Carry on, Commander Rawlins. You're doing fine. I'll try to get information."

It was pointless to remind the Moties that the passage was supposed to be safe. "Eudoxus, this is Renner. Who's shooting at us?"

Static made a ragged silhouette of the Motie shape. "Call them . . .
Ghengis Khan and the Mongol Horde. They're bandits, a large,
well-established group. We were under attack from the Khanate
when the Crazy Eddie point moved, but we thought they were
after our comet."

"Comet, Eudoxus?"

"Resources, Kevin. We moved a comet out of the Waste to feed the industrial needs of Medina's monitoring fleet at the new Jump point we were expecting. Dammit, most of them are protecting the comet—"

"Speed it up, Eudoxus. Who are we fighting? Do we have allies? How do we recognize them? How safe are you? You can't fight."

"Protection is coming. Don't try to fight, Kevin. I will lead you away to our base, to safety. Medina's Warriors are moving to protect us now. They'll guard our withdrawal."

Renner saw it quite suddenly. "You're not from Mote Prime at all."

"No no no," the Motie said immediately. "On Mote Prime they've blasted themselves back to the invention of the brick. Medina Trading is at present based in the Oort Cloud, with allies in the Mote Beta moons and other regions. We've been using that wonderful protection field of yours to scoop up mass and debris, but a comet is better."

The pattern of distant ships was changing . . . had been changing for some time. Brilliant points and larger colored dots, ships under attack and ships not under attack, several hundreds of them, were converging into place between
Sinbad
's position and the main congestion of warships.
Phidippides
's Field was cooling, shrinking, as her allies destroyed the ships that were attacking her.

It wasn't easy to see what they were doing, until you remembered the lightspeed gap. Even the nearest ships hadn't been seen to move for the first half-minute. The battle must be scattered up to three or four light-minutes across, tens of millions of klicks. They were all . . . no, only the nearby ships were reacting to the sudden appearance of three ships in the new Jump point. Some had moved to protect
Phidippides
and the Empire ships she escorted; some to attack. But far beyond, other glare-white sparks swarmed around the cold white glow of a comet's tail.

It was war among the asteroid civilizations for possession of the I-point, the Jump point into Empire space. Kevin Renner had led them right into it. Asteroid civilizations . . . and all his preparations had been made for Mote Prime!

Bloody Hell!
Renner raged at himself. He couldn't even claim he'd been lied to, though of course he had. And now he was being told to run . . . but without knowing who was who, how could he argue?

"Stand by," Renner said curtly. "Rawlins?"

"Sir?"

"You're better at analyzing battles than I am. Is there any way we can get a message back to
Agamemnon
?"

"No, sir. The longboat wouldn't have any chance to get back to the I-point, and
Atropos
wouldn't have much more. None unless we could coordinate with the Motie fleet that's not shooting at us."

"Thanks. That won't happen. Okay, follow us and watch our backs. We're not going to Mote Prime. We're headed for the comets, outbound from the sun. I'll send the course when I have it."

"Sir—"

"Rawlins, when I know more, you will! Now I have to talk to the Moties. Out."

"No rest for the wicked," Joyce said.

Renner grinned slightly and hit the control keys. "Eudoxus."

"Here, Kevin."

Bury smiled softly, but said nothing.

"There may be another ship coming through anytime in the next five hundred hours," Renner said. "A very valuable ship. With a"—he saw Chris Blaine easing into place off camera—"a human female Mediator aboard. Be sure your people bring that ship to us when it comes."

"We'll try."

"Do more than try. The ship is valuable, and two of the passengers are Imperial aristocracy. Influential. Very influential."

"Ah. I will convey the urgency of the request."

"Good. Now, where are you taking us?"

"Medina Trading is among the nearer comets, above the plane of the Mote planetary system. There is an intermediate base, closer, well defended. We'll go direct to Medina Home unless we're interrupted, but on a course that lets us get to the base at need. Here is your course vector. . . ."

Renner examined it. "About twenty-five hours to turnover at something near one and a half standard gee. Everybody okay on that?"

"It is better than being caught in a battle," Bury said.

Renner glanced at the telltales, then caught Nabil's eyes. Nabil nodded slightly.

"Fair enough. Lead off," Renner said.

Chris looked okay; so did Alysia. Bury was fully alert and mad as hell. Good: Renner could use their opinions. He said, "Buck-man, I need
Atropos
, but maintain the link to
Phidippides
. I'm sounding acceleration warning."

He let
Sinbad
's corridors turn raucous while he ran the thrust up to one gee. Nabil and Cynthia hovered around Bury like worker ants feeding a queen. Bury's medical monitors were drawing a forest of needles, but why wouldn't they? Horace Bury hadn't been shot at since . . .

The Outies at Pierrot? Rape my lizard, was it that long ago?

And Blaine and Trujillo were staying well clear of each other's privacy bubbles, and neither was saying anything.
There may not be as much help there as I thought.

Phidippides
was easing away at a gee and a half, almost two Mote gravities. Renner ran his thrust up to match.

Atropos
was aglow, black to glare green in a few seconds. The Motie ships looked tiny compared to the empire cruiser, but they had expanding Fields and
Atropos
didn't. Not good . . . but somewhere behind them a red point blossomed into a violet sun and dissipated.
Atropos
began to cool. Rawlins was fast with his guns.

The battle was mostly behind them now. Friendly and enemy ships looked too much alike; in the telescopes each was unique; but one squadron was definitely deploying to form a barrier behind the three fleeing ships. Another group converged on a ship trying to get past the barrier force.

Renner sighed. Until he knew more, what the hell else could he do but run? He made eye contact with Chris Blaine: Do you see anything I don't?

Blaine shook his head and pointed to the battle screen. "Rawlins is right, it's unlikely we'd get a message back to
Agamemnon
even with help from Medina's fleet, and without
Atropos
we're in big trouble. Other than that, we're fine. Rawlins knows how to fight, and whoever our allies are, they're pretty good. And willing to take punishment for us."

"They'll be Warriors," Renner said. Nightmare creatures like those statuettes in the Moties' Time Machine sculpture, perhaps altered by selective breeding for life in low gravity. Warriors on both sides.

"Horace?"

"I think of nothing you have not. I feel as if I have deceived myself."

"Which you did," Buckman said, chuckling.

"Mote Beta?" Joyce asked.

"We called the main Mote planet Mote Prime," Renner said. "There's a gas giant we called Beta."

"And almost certainly another planet," Buckman said. "Mote Gamma. Almost certainly a gas giant. There are also two large clusters of asteroids sharing the orbit of Mote Beta. Nearly all of them were moved into place."

"Moved," Joyce said. "Isn't that a lot of work, moving asteroids?"

"Sure is," Renner said. "Enough. We're committed."

"
Alea jacta est
," Joyce said.

"Onk?"

"The die is cast," Bury translated. "Indeed."

"Right. Okay, mike's live again. All right, Eudoxus," Renner
said. "Keep talking. What in Hell is a Bury's Fyunch(click) doing
in the Mote asteroids?"

Freddy Townsend woke when Kakumi's voice barked at him from the intercom. He woke quickly as he always did when he slept at the bridge console.

"Freddy, there's a radio message. General communications band. Talk to them, Freddy. You there?"

Freddy reached tentatively for the console. The timer showed nearly an hour since the shift. His hand was steady, and his head felt clear. He flipped a switch to put the incoming message on the speakers:

"WARNING. YOU HAVE ENTERED AN INTERDICT ZONE, THIS SYSTEM HAS BEEN PLACED UNDER INTERDICT BY AUTHORITY OF THE VICEROY GOVERNOR GENERAL OF TRANS-COAL SACK SECTOR, THIS SYSTEM IS PATROLLED BY THE IMPERIAL NAVY. BROADCAST YOUR LOCATION AND IDENTITY ON THIS BAND AND WAIT FOR INSTRUCTIONS. FAILURE TO COMPLY MAY RESULT IN DESTRUCTION OF YOUR SHIP. WARNING."

 

"Well, that's pretty explicit," Freddy said. He typed quickly on the control console. "Glenda Ruth, I think you should include something in your code so they can be sure its you. That message wasn't friendly at all."

"All right." She connected the interface cable into her computer and scribbled. "Clementine, code that with my private key."

"YES, DEAR."

"I wonder about this," Glenda Ruth said. "That message sounds pretty positive."

"You think something has happened?"

"I don't know, but I bet we don't have long to wait."

The reply came four minutes later:

HECATE
THIS IS INSS
AGAMEMNON.
REQUEST YOU RENDEZVOUS WITH US IMMEDIATELY. VECTORS FOLLOW. WE HAVE MESSAGES FOR THE HON. GLENDA RUTH FOWLER BLAINE, BALASINGHAM."

 

Freddy's fingers played. She'd seen him more tense, his fingers moving faster, during a Sauron Menace game . . . when the penalties for mistakes weren't so high. "Not far. We can be there in ten minutes. Glenda Ruth, I can't find a blinker."