Mel was still explaining. “We have found nothing much more of interest. The rest of the fleet is equipped with normal Terran ultrapulse cannons. All of the destroyers are two-battery, the light cruisers four-battery, and the battleships eight-battery. The battleships and the lights are also equipped with standard rail guns and torpedo emplacements.”
“All right. That means that the Terrans will protect the ships carrying RAMP missiles at all costs. In a fight they will be prepared to sacrifice the light cruisers rather than risk any one of the three ships carrying the new weapon. That leaves them only one deployable battleship.”
Denaraz looked diverted. I raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just … ‘only one battleship’. You do realize that one battleship is about twenty times larger than Nivala, don’t you?”
“And what do you think I can do about that?” I wished people would stop saying obvious things. “Do you want to stay here and do nothing?”
Denaraz shook his head. “We can’t. The Terrans are apparently unaware of the side effect of that weapon they are carrying. They need to be told. Somebody has to stop them, and I can’t see anybody else even trying.”
“Yeah. I guess it is up to us.”
He nodded. “I guess it is.”
“So, how are we going to go about this?”
Zenzara ticked off the steps on her fingers. “First, we pop out in front of the fleet. Second, we board the flagship and speak to Admiral Ellison. Third, they agree never to use the RAMP technology ever again and to bury the research. Fourth, we stop the war. Fifth, we fly away and have some fun somewhere. This is all getting stressful.”
“There you go. That’s our plan.” I stood up. “Any objections?”
Mouths in front of me opened and closed, but nobody said anything. What was there to say? We all knew that we would most likely be blown out of existence as soon as we ‘popped out’ in front of the fleet.
It occurred to me that we could leave a shuttle in hiding in the nebula. At least some of our group might survive. Zenzara, certainly, should not be risked.
“Seyal, you are to take Segaton and Zenzara to the main shuttle. You will remain here. I expect Anzany and Denaraz will stay with you.”
Seyal stood very tall. “I am a member of this crew. Even for my son, I will not abandon my post. And where I go, he goes. Avarak Karax!”
As she pronounced the mantra she seemed to grow in size and her face radiated a determination I had never seen before.
Zenzara bunched her fingers into fists. “I cannot leave you. Have you forgotten the Savior Protocols? If you go into danger, I will go with you. I cannot do anything else. Please stop trying to protect me. That is my job!” She stamped one small foot on the decking. It hardly made any noise at all.
Denaraz gave me an apologetic shrug. “Where she goes, I go.”
Anzany was clear on the matter too. “Where Neema is, so am I.”
I sighed. This was hardly what I had wanted for our first assignment as the official Interstellar Enforcement Agency. “All right. Let’s make sure everything is in working order. We may not get a chance to use our own ABlaser cannons or rail guns, but I want to know that something would happen if we push the button.”
Seyal remained on watch for the arrival of the Eighth Fleet, while the rest of us scattered to check and recheck equipment. I don’t know about the others, but I felt a skitter of unease in my stomach – an awareness that reality was about to flip over again. It seemed that every time one thing was overcome, another leapt into the gap. Commorancy and a simpler life seemed a long, long time ago.
The strange thing was that I felt more alive than I ever had before. Now that we were walking such a knife edge, it was impossible not to. I had captained the Faraday for years, with no real commitment, except perhaps to my sister, to my family. Now I was committed to Nivala. To all of them. I would fight for them. I might even die for them. I might die for them today.
Zenzie found me on the weapons bridge on the middle deck. “Mallivan Bell, do not worry. I will save you. It is a sacred promise.”
I looked the eight-year old up and down. She stopped somewhere around my waist height. “Thank you Zenzara.”
“Don’t patronize me!” Her crest raised and she practically spit the words out.
I raised my arms. “Perish the thought!”
“You think I am too young to do anything!”
That was patently untrue. “Who threw the nivala and took down several of the Enclave?” I pointed out. “Who convinced the Avaraks to save us?”
Actually I still thought she was too small a thing to physically stand in harm’s way, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
“You looked at me as if I were a little girl!” she snapped.
She was.
“Like that! See! Just like that! You don’t take me seriously.”
I blew out air. “What do you want, Zenzara?”
“Nothing!” She seemed very upset, though I couldn’t for the life of me see why. “Nothing at all!”
“Then why do you keep stamping your foot?”
“I don’t”
She did.
“Ouch! I don’t know why you are so cross with me.”
“I told you! I want to be taken seriously.”
“I do take you seriously.”
“You don’t understand. I have to go with you to the flagship. I have to be there.”
“I can’t let you do that. You know I can’t.”
Her eyes took on a hint of desperation. “I am not permitted to let you go alone into danger. It would break my vow.”
“And I can’t take an eight-year-old Tyzaran Chyzar into battle.”
Her face became very taut. The wrinkles deepened into ridges. “If you do not,” she said, speaking very slowly and punctuating each word with a pause, “then we could all die.”
“All right. I will look into it. I will ask Mel to check up on the Savior Protocols.”
Her face cleared miraculously. “Thanks!” And she skipped off without saying any more, having got part of what she wanted.
I went to find Mel. A promise was a promise. She would know what to do.
I didn’t like the reply. Turns out, the Savior Protocol is very clear. She was going to come with me. Mel told me that the rules were explicit. Zenzara’s life was considered merely on loan to her. It was actually at my disposition. They thought of it rather as a spare body, one that was currently occupied but reassigned to me. This body was to go with me into any danger I faced. It was there to die for me.
As simple as that.
It gave me an uncomfortable shiver. How could I let an eight-year-old take the bullet meant for me?
Apparently, if I didn’t, Zenzara would be forever scorned. First by her fellow Tyzarans, and then by Zeuma, their equivalent of God.
I went to speak with Denaraz about it. He was firm. “You cannot break the Protocols.”
I thought that was unfair. “Oznard was keen enough to break them!”
“Of course. They put the next Chyzar in permanent danger.”
“These rules are ridiculous! She is only eight! How can I take her into danger with me?”
“How can you not? If you refuse her this chance of sacrifice she would be breaking an unbreakable vow. Where do you think that would leave her?”
“I cannot believe that people as sophisticated as the Tyzarans still have archaic customs such as this.”
He nodded. “I can understand your dismay. It is inappropriate for the times we live in, certainly. However, you are already bound by the Protocols. You agreed to it!”
“To help Zenzara! I didn’t realize what I was agreeing to!”
“Lack of knowledge does not exempt you from obligation.”
“I realize that, Denaraz. But this is a child’s life we are talking about.”
He frowned. “No. It is your life. Her life has been forfeit since you saved her on Commorancy. Surely you can accept that?”
“No. I can’t. I find the whole process barbaric.”
“Then you should have refused the Protocols.”
“What would have happened if I had?”
“She would have been provided with the means to kill herself.”
“What!!”
“I am afraid so. Her life became yours when you saved it. Her body no longer belongs to her. Her future is your future. If you reject her, she is obligated to terminate the existence of that body.”
“I am horrified by what you say.”
“Yes. I can understand that.”
“Then how could Oznard charge you with her safety? It is impossible!”
“I am charged with the safety of the Chyzar. Zenzara and the Chyzar are two separate considerations. I may not save Zenzara. I am obligated to save the Chyzar.”
“And just how are you supposed to do that?”
He managed a smile. “Look at it this way. If you are attacked, I may not prevent Zenzara from throwing herself in front of you. If the Chyzar is attacked I must protect her with my life.”
“No wonder you look stressed most of the time.”
“I was not given this posting as a sinecure.”
“So I must take Zenzara into any danger.”
“You must.” He paused. “And I must go with her.”
“Great! I have to take the two of you along for the rest of my days. Perfect!”
“I do not anticipate that any of us will live past this week, in any case. Why should this small point grate on you?”
I could feel my shoulders locking into rigid tension. But he was right. None of us were likely to survive. And who had the moral high ground? Were my social conventions better than the Tyzarans? Was I qualified to judge? I decided that I wasn’t. Both Denaraz and Mel assured me that I was legally obligated to take Zenzara with me. Take her I would. I could not insult the beliefs of an alien race as ancient as the Tyzarans. I would simply have to adapt my own convictions. And do my very best not to put any of our bodies in more danger than they already faced.
No pressure, then.
The Eighth Fleet came into screen range some twenty hours later. The small wait had given us time to finish our preparations and to get some much-needed rest.
I was jogging around the lower level with Izan when the comlink sparked into life. “Captain to the bridge.”
I sprinted along the corridor, Denaraz at my heels, hoping we had judged things correctly. Sure enough, the Eighth Fleet had just come into view on the outskirts of the system.
“Get Didjal to prep the small shuttle,” I said, in what I hoped was a calm voice. “Call Zenzara to the bridge.”
Zenzie arrived, crest suitably rigid.
I grabbed an M596 each for Denaraz and myself and then hesitated. Zenzie seemed too diminutive to wield even the much smaller M487XRS, though I suspected she could give a good account of herself.
She grinned at me and pulled out a Tyzaran ZR ABlaser. “Don’t worry about me. I am very accurate with it.”
“Fine.” I hoped we wouldn’t need them. They would hardly do much against battleships. At least they made us look more professional. I hoped.
“We will try to put ourselves directly in the path of the fleet. Neema and Sammy, bring Nivala into place behind us, but out of range at least of their rail guns. Sammy, you are in charge.”
Sammy’s eyes grew rounded. He had not expected that. Neema nodded her understanding.
“Don’t open fire on them,” I went on, “Our only hope of stopping them if diplomacy doesn’t work is to somehow block their RAMP missiles. To do that we have to stay alive. Nivala has to be in a condition to catch up with them. Do not risk the ship. If the worst comes to the worst, you will have to do it without us.”
Zenzara looked at me.
Her gaze reiterated her determination to die than allow me to be killed.
Well, I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I nodded, and led the two Tyzarans down the corridor to the lifts. It was time to set this in motion. Time to convince the Terran forces to stand down on the use of the RAMP missiles. Time to become the Interstellar Enforcement Agency.
My sister Sibby flashed into my thoughts. I had managed to get word to her on Talscharin, but not before making her spend a fruitless week waiting in vain for me to turn up. She had already gone back to the family shipstation, Bellaris. I wished I had been able to tell her how much I missed her. When I thought of Faraday and my past life at home, she and Scout were the only parts I wanted back.
Now that was a real surprise.
Chapter 16
The Eighth Fleet seemed doubtful about stopping. It raced down on our position, and for quite a while I thought that it would simply trample us as it swept on towards the Avarak homeworld.
I had already explained who we were, but that had not impressed them. A cool voice had told us curtly that the Alliance was not recognized by the Terran Omnistate.
They were waiting to see who would blink first.
I had my eyes firmly shut.
Then they stopped.
The whole fleet hung in space, the lead ship perhaps only one kilometer away.
Our vidscreen flared into life. The face of Admiral Ellison appeared. She did not look best pleased. “What?”
“Admiral Ellison. We need to talk to you. It is extremely urgent.”
“Well, I don’t need to talk to you. I am under orders, and your attempt at delay is laughable!”
“You are wrong. This is nothing to do with the Avaraks. You are in extreme danger.”
“And what makes you think I am going to listen to a couple of Tyzarans and a Spacelander?” Her voice was clear.
“We represent the Interstellar Enforcement Agency. I would like to come aboard your flagship and show you the documents we have that authorize us on behalf of six of the eight Shell races.”
She thought about it. “Very well. I will give you half an hour. No more. I will not be delayed on my journey to Rhyveka. The Avaraks will learn not to take arms against the Terran forces!”
For a moment I thought she was going to shout the Terran equivalent of Avarak Karax! Zenzie giggled, so she must have done too.
“Don’t delay. You have permission to come aboard Chibuzo.”
“Is Bull Cunningham on board?”
Her expression crimped. “No. Why should he be? He is a civilian.”
“Just wondered. I thought you might have kept him close.”
“Like a lap dog. No, thanks!”
“I hope he got his due reward?”
She stiffened. “He is a patriot. He needed no reward!”
“Hmm.” I wasn’t convinced. Bull didn’t strike me as the selflessly loyal citizen she portrayed. I wondered for a moment if we were discussing the same man. Then she explained. “Though I believe he is to be honored for his contribution to the war effort. His whole family is to be granted Omnial status.”
Yep. That would do it. Omnial status meant full rights to a lifetime of comfort with individual isolated housing, real animals and parkland. Omnial status was only granted to those who were considered to have provided great service to the Omnistate, and politicians were only taken from the Omnial classes. It meant that Bull Cunningham had his foot firmly on the ladder to a future political career.
I may have ground my teeth together. I did feel a nasty twinge through my left back tooth.
The Admir
al was still staring at me. I woke up. “Thank you for seeing us, Admiral Ellison. We will join you immediately.”
She didn’t seem particularly pleased at the prospect. “I will be waiting.”
Two hours later I sat back in my seat at the conference table on Chibuzo. The Admiral was still regarding me with something like amazement.
“You expect me to believe what you say? That for some reason the new RAMP missiles could somehow tear apart the very fabric of spacetime? And you are conveniently telling me this just before the aforesaid weapons are due to be used against our enemy?”
“I do expect you to believe what I say. Quantum tunneling cannot be predicted – it is a random event. And although there has always been a tiny chance of a random Higgs particle tunneling from the metastable vacuum point to the true one, the probability is considered infinitely small. At least, it was. Unfortunately your new technology is likely to create a cavity field within the receptors. That, in its turn can cause the particles themselves to coalesce with a photon and form a new transient particle which could easily tunnel through the barrier before regressing to its original form. The chances of these new particles tunneling into the ultra-dense state is now calculated at fifty percent. Fifty percent …!” I tried not to shout, but my voice was going up of its own accord. “EVERY TIME you launch one of those missiles, you are risking the COMPLETE annihilation of the universe. It would only take one … ONE … particle to transition for the rest of the entire Higgs field to collapse into the ultra-dense state, exploding outwards at the speed of light. Surely I don’t have to tell you what that would do to the Shells, to the Galaxy … to the Universe?”
Her nose twitched. “An outrageous claim,” she said. “You are using false information to stop our engagement with the Avaraks. I will not be swayed by this pseudoscience you are spouting at me.” She looked up at her second in command and beckoned. “Take these intruders to the brig. I am done with them.”
Termination Shock Page 26
