The Gripping Hand (57 page)

"Rawlins—" Renner began.

"Commander," Glenda Ruth said. "We're only speculating on what the Khanate might do. The fact is, they haven't tried to negotiate with us. They have taken two Empire citizens captive, and they won't even talk to us about it."

"Hell, your friends took you captive."

"And are doing their damnedest to make restitution," Freddy
said.

The two Mediators were listening intently, but neither spoke.

"Medina has earned our trust," Bury said. "Should we not earn theirs? Then there is a matter of property rights. Medina knew that—"

"Property?" Rawlins demanded, his reply delayed by the light-speed gap.

"Yes, Commander. They knew that the protostar would collapse, that the Sister would open. They bought that knowledge with scarce resources. Including the life of an Engineer we allowed to die aboard
MacArthur
."

"Be damned," Renner said.

"Yes." Bury's voice sounded labored. "The situation is not quite what happened to Mr. Townsend, but there are similarities. And from that little store of knowledge they guessed what we would do, and they bet their survival on being right. I have done the same myself. Do you not regard ideas as property? In a sense, Medina Consortium holds copyright on the Empire."

A beat. Then, "Copyright. Thank you, Trader. Commodore?"

Renner said, "We'll fight alongside Medina Trading. I'll take the heat. You've got your orders, Commander. Go hit those colony ships. We'll be thirteen hours behind you."

"Yes, sir." Too late to be of any help, but they both knew that.

"You're an unknown to the Moties," Renner said. "They won't know what your ship can do. I don't know if that means they'll concentrate on you or try to avoid you. Be ready either way. We're going to need your protection when we get closer, so try to stay alive."

The delay was longer this time. "We'll try."

"Any more questions? . . . Right. Let's get to it. Godspeed." Renner switched off, to find Bury chuckling.

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking," Bury said. "I can envision a trial. With Miss Blaine's parents presenting our defense."

* * *

Sinbad
was accelerating at 1.2 standard gravities. Glenda Ruth Blaine was using the cramped space of the galley area to do slow stretches. She asked, "Have you ever had a pet?"

"My dad had a pair of Keeshonden," Joyce said.

"They died, though. You knew they'd die someday and they did." Glenda Ruth didn't wait for a response. "It was like that with Jock and Charlie. They told me themselves. Charlie died. We, my folks had a version of the C-L worm by then, but it was too late for Charlie, or it wasn't quite right. No, Joyce, you leave the camera where it is."

Joyce hadn't moved. "I can't help what I'm thinking, Glenda Ruth, but if they were about to shoot me for knowing too much, I'd still be listening."

"I'm not sure what I want to say for the press. What I did, it wasn't honest and it wasn't simple and it would be insanely complicated to try to describe. What I'm getting at is that the C-L worm pulled my oldest friend off death row. Hello, Freddy."

Freddy had popped out of the pilot's enclosure. "Hi. Being interviewed?"

"Off the record. Coffee?"

"Bless you." Freddy Townsend turned to Bury. "Gravity all right, sir?"

Bury looked up at him. "It is no worse than Sparta. I am quite comfortable. Thank you. It is harder on Ali Baba and our friends." The Mediator pup was huddled into Bury's armpit; it didn't seem unhappy.

"I came back to show you something," Freddy said. "We've got cameras outside the Field." He indicated the lounge screens. Bright flashes and softer glows, the intricate light threads of a space battle.

"
Atropos
group?" Glenda Ruth asked.

"They're still a couple of hours short of the Sister. That's the Tartar fleet. They were closest. Victoria, I'm afraid it's not going well for your people."

"We did not expect it to," Victoria said.

"A fearful consumption of resources," Omar said.

"An investment," Bury said.

"With potentially unlimited returns," Omar said. "We have had years to contemplate, but this is the first generation of Moties to see the universe as a place of real opportunity. So. How soon will we be there?"

"It's a bit under two light-minutes," Freddy said. "Call it twenty-six hours at our present rate."

"Won't it be all over by then?" Glenda Ruth asked.

"Possibly not," Victoria said. "Space battles take time."

"And this is a battle such as few have ever seen," Omar said. "A battle of Masters, the final failure of the Mediator class."

"One thing I don't understand," Joyce said. "Why won't the Khanate negotiate?"

There were new flashes of light on the screens.

"More ships," Glenda Ruth said. "Whose are those?"

"Hard to tell," Freddy said. "But they're shooting at the Khanate, so they're on our side."

"Enemies of our enemies," Bury said. "We can but watch with patience. Allah has been merciful."

"Joyce, there are many answers to your question," Victoria said. "Their history. The Khanate has had few successes with alliances."

"Given their record this is not surprising," Omar said.

"All true. They treat their allies with contempt. They did not honor the terms they had made with us. And now they see unlimited potential if only one of their colony ships survives to roam Imperial space."

"Unlimited," Glenda Ruth said. "Crazy Eddie. An entire clan."

"We see it, too," Victoria said. "As do Medina and East India. Call it an entire culture."

Sinbad
's control bridge was dark except for the navigation screens. Freddy had closed it off from the lounge. He had set the pilot's couch for massage mode.

Glenda Ruth noted Freddy's relaxed posture. "Hi."

"Hello."

"I saw some activity on the screens."

Freddy nodded. "The battle's started up again. I told the Commodore. There's not much we can do about it, for another fourteen hours, so there wasn't any point in rousing the others."

And you're not saying why you didn't call me.
"What do we do when we get there?"

"Good question," Freddy said. "On this course we'll shoot past at about two hundred klicks a second."

"That's not much use."

Freddy showed some irritation. "If we slow to match velocities, we'll be forever getting there. The idea is that we can boost our thrust at the end if somebody needs our firepower. Otherwise it's safer to go through fast and backtrack."

"Good news from all over," Glenda Ruth said.

The main screen flared, a blue flash. She stared at it. "Freddy—"

"It's all right. You don't have to watch."

Her voice was almost patronizing, though it came three seconds later. "Freddy love, there's not much point anyway. All I'm seeing is colored lights. Why don't you tell me what's happening? Pretend it's a race."

"Race. Okay." A touch zoomed the picture, expanded the center of the maze of colored lines. Lasers were splashing across black and coal-red balloons of varied size. One was inflating, green, blue, a white flash like a nova. "They began with twenty-six big ships. After twelve hours of fighting it's twenty-three. They're not moving much, but your brother would recognize that dance they're doing. Ship A floats behind Ship B. Ship B takes the heat for a while. You can't do it unless the enemy is all in one direction. Ship A sheds some energy, then drops the Langston Field just as it passes from the other ship's shadow. Fires everything. Turns on its Field again . . . oops."

"Doesn't always work?"

"No. Twenty-two."

"Uh-huh. Freddy, that was twenty-six clans of the Khanate. Each ship is an extended family. The ships are different sizes because some families are bigger, or richer. It's worth remembering that Moties don't flinch at extermination."

Freddy looked at her.

"What are they doing now? Freddy, there goes another one!"

"Caught you looking." He turned. "Where's the cloud?"

"No, it just winked out. There, another one."

"No, my love, that one's not dead." He slapped at the intercom keys. "Commodore! Mister Bury!"

Bury's image appeared on the intercom screen. "I saw. Kevin? Two ships have fled through the Sister. I think they are all in motion. There goes another one, yes, Freddy?"

"Yes, and another one just died. Five down, three gone through, and the rest are converging on the Sister."

"O-okay.
Atropos
won't have to fight." Renner sounded tired, and there was no image on the screen. "Freddy, we'll have to go through, but that won't be for fourteen hours. You have the watch. I'd appreciate it if you'd work the navigation problem. It lets the rest of us get some sleep." There was a moment of silence. "Horace, we've got to talk to the Moties. We can't go through the Jump alone."

"So I had surmised. Go to sleep, Kevin. I will negotiate." Kevin Renner set his couch to full recline and closed his eyes. He heard Bury's voice, brisk but with a thread of fatigue in it. "Omar, we will need as many warships as can be assembled to accompany
Atropos
and
Sinbad
through the Sister. . . ." And then it all faded out.

"Urgent message," the computer announced.

Renner sat up at the console. "Put it through."

Eudoxus showed on the screen. Renner punched in questions: Base Six was a bit under four light-minutes behind him.

"Kevin, the fleets of Byzantium are delayed. They will not reach the Sister in time to accomplish anything. Shall we send them elsewhere? Also, we have detected objects on an intercept course with
Sinbad
. Three unidentified ships on this vector." There was a twitter of binary data. "They should be twenty-six minutes from intercept when you receive this."

Renner thought it through, then sent, "I assume Byzantium is still your ally. Ask them and any other allies to join you at Base Six. Help to secure the Sister. We will look at your unidentified ships. Our present plans are unchanged. We will follow the
Atropos
group through the Sister. With luck you will secure the Sister from this side." Kevin thought for a moment and shrugged.
Why not?
"Godspeed." Renner clicked off. "Mr. Townsend?"

Freddy Townsend's picture said, "What's up?"

"Screen two." They studied the screen together. Black space and stars, and three dots approaching from low and thirty degrees off the port bow, a degree below the Pleiades.

"
Sinbad
's detectors haven't seen them yet," Freddy said. "Maybe now that we know where to look . . ."

"Right." Renner punched in commands. "Three targets acquired. Constant bearing, and closing, thirty thousand klicks. They're not throwing anything at us yet, Freddy." He watched violet-white lights weaving about him and said, "I'd say our allies are already alerted, but call them anyway and make sure Rawlins knows, too."

"Wake anyone else up?"

"Call Joyce." Bury was fast asleep. His readouts were a little jagged, a bit disturbing. The Moties slept, too, and Kevin considered. "We don't need a translator, do we?"

"Let her sleep. Death makes Glenda Ruth twitchy."

Joyce Trujillo was awake: Kevin could see her screen alight past the back of her head. "Hi, Joyce. Battle shaping up. Freddy, have you got any of the other ships?"

"Signal from Ten, but I can't read it. Warriors. I'm waking Omar."

"Swell."