by Steve White
“—But now we’re starting to see the remainder of the armada from Alowan,” Trevayne finished for him. “At least four Dispersates’ worth.” He sighed. “Well, at least they’re in no position to interfere with our departure from this system. And we’ll make it well ahead of…” He gestured at the system plot and the red icon that pursued them, unwilling to utter the name of that particular enemy.
So they fled on toward the Oprheus-1 warp point, and it was as though the hounds of Hell were baying at their heels.
Magda looked out of the comm screen, and her eyes held a haunted look that Trevayne had never seen in them, or expected to see.
“Ian…were we wrong to bring a child into this universe?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Commodore Arthur Kim, PSUN, was commander of the fortresses Cyrus Waldeck had emplaced in Orpheus-1 at the Home Hive Two warp point against any unlooked-for eventualities. He had, of course already received the news from Home Hive Two before Combined Fleet came through the warp point he was guarding, with an armada summoned up out of the blackest pages of history following it. Therefore, having had a little while to assimilate the news, he wasn’t quite as shaken as might have been when he faced Ian Trevayne in the comm screen. Or, if he was, he at least managed a fairly good job of concealing it.
“So, Commodore,” Trevayne concluded his terse summary of the situation, “as you see, it is imperative that Combined Fleet get back to Pesthouse to protect the main warpline to Sol. And, while my Intelligence staff is still analyzing the energy readouts from the Arachnid fleet that will be coming through this warp point from Home Hive Two in pursuit of us, it is clear that it is comparable in numbers and tonnage to any of their fleets in the Fourth Interstellar War.” Kim earned Trevayne’s respect by remaining almost expressionless. “We have no information as to their weaponry. However, despite history’s assertions regarding the Bugs’ lack of inventiveness, I consider it unsafe to assume that they’ve been technologically stagnant for the last two centuries.”
“Agreed, sir.”
“And,” Trevayne continued remorselessly, “behind them is a Kaituni fleet seven Dispersates strong. The fleet that annihilated Admiral Waldeck’s battleline.” He paused, for he had come to a moment which he’d had no desire to reach but which could not be deferred. He met Kim’s eyes unflinchingly. “Commodore, Combined Fleet needs every advantage it can get in traversing this system and getting away to Home Hive One and thence to Pesthouse. It is therefore necessary that you fight a delaying action as long as possible.”
“That’s what Admiral Waldeck put us here for, sir.”
Trevayne had never felt more awkward in his life. What do you say to a man you’ve just condemned to death? Especially when that man knew—and knew that Trevayne knew—that the fortresses could be placed in automated defense mode, and their crews evacuated…and that the resulting degradation of their fighting efficiency would reduce the time they could delay the Bug horde. “Thank you” seemed inappropriate as well as inadequate, and under the circumstances “Good luck” would be a banality. “Very good, Commodore,” he finally said gruffly. “And keep transmitting reports to us as long as possible. Any information about the weapons and tactics of these…latter-day Bugs will be invaluable. For the same reason, I’m going to deploy a lavish quantity of recon drones around this warp point.”
“Understood, sir.”
Trevayne signed off, not trusting himself to say anything else. He could feel the eyes of De Mornay and Hagen and everyone else in earshot on the flag bridge as he turned away from the comm screen and studied the system display.
The warp point through which they had entered Orpheus-1 from Home Hive Two lay on a bearing of about eleven o’clock from the system primary, at a distance of thirty light-minutes. The Home Hive One warp point through which they must pass to take the most direct route to Pesthouse was at bearing four o’clock, distance twenty-seven light-minutes. Hence, the two were very nearly a light-hour apart—as long a haul between a system’s warp points as any in known space, and one which would bring them too close to this planetless system’s red giant primary for comfort.
Which facts, of course, formed the altar on which Trevayne had just sacrificed Orphueus-1 Fortress Command. One thing about the Bug fleet had been clear from the sensor readings: it included nothing larger than monitor-size. It therefore might have a small speed advantage over Combined Fleet, with its supermonitors. And this was going to be a long chase. He needed every advantage he could get.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw De Mornay fidgeting. “What is it, Elaine?”
The chief of staff came to a position of semi-attention. “Oh…nothing, sir.”
Trevayne smiled at her. “I know what you’re thinking, Elaine. You’re wishing we could stand and fight at this warp point, alongside those fortresses. I’m sure Threeenow’hakaaeea would agree with you,” he added, thinking of the fiery Orion, burning to avenge the multitudinous dead of Second Fleet.
She deflated a little. “It crossed my mind sir,” she admitted. “But only to be rejected. I understand why you’re proceeding as you are. These fortresses here simply aren’t adequate. We’re going to need the support of the really massive defenses of Pesthouse when we turn and make a stand.”
“That’s quite right…as far as it goes.” Trevayne said, as much to himself as to De Mornay. His eyes went to the icon marking Orpheus-1’s third warp point, the one leading to Orpheus-2, lying on the same bearing as the one from which they had emerged but at a distance of seventeen light-minutes, so that their course would bring them within three light-minutes of it. And then he turned and looked at another display screen, which showed the relevant portions of the warp network. As he followed out the warp chain through Oprheus-2 and Orpheus-3 and beyond, he fell into a brooding silence which De Mornay, though puzzled, was disinclined to break with questions.
*
By the time Combined Fleet passed the Orpheus-2 warp point and put it astern, the space around the Home Hive Two warp point fifteen light-minutes behind them was ablaze with battle as the Bug monitors began to transit and the fortresses fought back gallantly but hopelessly. Zeven Provinciën’s flag bridge was held in depressed silence, interrupted by hushed reports as that struggle wound down to its foreordained conclusion.
Trevayne reached a decision. He assured himself that it was rooted in reason, not in guilt. Still, he felt a need to explain it. So he ordered comm to raise Magda’s flagship.
“I’m going to have a courier drone sent back through the Orpheus-2 warp point, ordering the fortress commander there to activate his fortresses’ automated defense protocols and get his personnel off. They’ve got some light ships there that can evacuate them to Orpheus-3 or, better still, Home Hive Three.”
“But Ian, what if this Bug fleet—and, presumably, the Kaituni armada behind them—go through the Orpheus-2 warp point instead of following us?”
“I don’t expect that they will. They’ll want to follow us, proceeding by the most direct route to Pesthouse and the main warpline to Alpha Centauri and Sol. But even if, for some reason, they do, it’s less vital to slow them down in Orpheus-2 than…than it was here. They’d have three more systems to go before they could threaten Bug 05.”
“So therefore there’s no real justification for sacrificing those crews,” Magda nodded. “Not an adequate one, at any rate.”
And once is enough, thought Trevayne. More than enough. But of course he couldn’t say that aloud. Instead, he turned to De Mornay. “Elaine, have Comm prepare a courier drone, to be dispatched to Orpheus-2 Fortress Command. The message will be as follows—”
“Admiral!” exclaimed Andreas Hagen. “We’re getting sensor readings from the Orpheus-2 warp point. Ships are transiting through it.” He paused briefly and ran his eye over the readouts. “Kaituni ships!”
Trevayne broke the stunned silence. “Cancel that courier drone, Elaine,” he said quietly.
Magda stared from the
comm screen. “Ian, what—?”
“It’s pretty clear what’s happened,” Trevayne said bleakly. “The possibility occurred to me before, but I didn’t mention it because if it was true there was absolutely nothing we were in a position to do about it. Look at your warpline display.” He brought up his own as De Mornay and Hagen joined him. Using a light-pencil, he traced the route from Zephrain through Home Hive Three, Orpheus-3, Orpheus-2 and, finally, Orpheus-1.
“This must be one of the Kaituni fleets that’s been ravaging Orion space. It must have followed Amunsit’s path to Zephrain, then moved along this route in order to trap us.” Trevayne turned even more grim. “It nearly did. If we were still in Home Hive Two, and this new fleet occupied this system, we would have been well and truly trapped, and…” He let the sentence trail off. It would all have been over was superfluous.
*
They fled on across the Orpheus-1 system, with the red giant sun growing into a bloated, attenuated, dimly glowing ball to starboard, gradually dropping astern. As they did, they were able to observe certain developments.
First of all, the newly arrived Kaituni fleet had completed its emergence from the Orpheus-2 warp point. (There were, of course, no fortresses there to hinder it. Waldeck had emplaced none since, after all, Orpheus-2 was a friendly system, wasn’t it?) According to Hagen’s estimates, it constituted the forces of two Dispersates. Combined Fleet could have turned back and overpowered it, especially given the apparent ineffectiveness of the Kaituni’s new superweapon against ships lighter than devastator-size, which was all they had. At first Threeenow’hakaaeea had been almost frantic with eagerness to do so. But even he had eventually had to admit it was out of the question to become involved in a battle which was bound to take time—time which would allow that which was coming from the Home Hive Two warp point to catch up.
For they had also been able, by means of the cloud of recon drones around that warp point, to observe as the main Kaituni armada had emerged behind the Bugs. Well behind, in fact—and it remained that way as it followed the Bugs in their pursuit of Combined Fleet.
And finally came an unexpected report from a puzzled Hagen. “Admiral, the new Kaituni fleet is turning away and taking up a course almost at right angles to ours…and that of the Bugs.”
Frowning, Trevayne turned to the system display. The new arrivals from Orpheus-2 had been in a position to lead the pursuit, ahead of the Bugs. Instead, they were swerving aside.
De Mornay’s frown was even more intense than Trevayne’s. “You’d think they’d be maneuvering to join their allies. Instead it’s almost as though they’re getting out of their way.”
“I’m beginning to think,” said Trevayne slowly, “that getting out of the Bugs’ way is precisely what they’re doing. And I don’t think they are allies.”
De Mornay and Hagen both gaped at him. “Not allies?” the chief of staff blurted. “But Admiral—”
“Oh, don’t misunderstand me. They’re both our enemies. But I don’t think they’re allies in any real sense. I have no idea how the Kaituni learned that the Bugs still exist, or what their exact relationship—if that’s le mot juste—is. But I’m certain that the Bugs cannot have—or be—allies. No: I think the Kaituni are somehow using the Bugs. And what they’re using them for at the moment is to do the work of pursuing and harrying us and take the losses. In short, the Bugs are what used to be called cannon fodder.”
“I shouldn’t think the Bugs would be happy about that role,” said Hagen drily. “Even assuming they have the capacity for happiness.”
“But they seem willing to play the role and be used…at least for the moment. That may not always be the case.” Trevayne wore a grim smile. “In fact, perhaps one of the reasons the Kaituni are getting out of the Bugs’ way is to avoid the possibility of being…predated upon in passing.”
“Are you saying, sir, that this is something that might work to our advantage?” asked De Mornay.
“Knowing the Bugs, almost certainly not.” Trevayne dismissed the subject with a characteristic toss of his head. “And at any rate, that’s not something with which we can exploit at the moment. We’ve got to concentrate on getting to Pesthouse.”
*
As they drove on and the great red sun dropped further and further behind them, it became clear that Trevayne had been right about the Bugs’ slight speed advantage. Combined Fleet had to fight a series of rearguard actions to fend its pursuers off. For this purpose, Trevayne made full use of Threeenow’hakaaeea’s carriers from Second Fleet—partly because he regarded fighters as the weapon of choice in this kind of action against this particular enemy, and partly because he realized it was necessary to the morale of those Orion pilots. And indeed they savaged the Bugs’ leading elements, taking out their frustration and anger and lust for vengeance against these beings, to whom they would not even allow the title of chofaki.
And in the end, it was enough. Combined Fleet passed through the Home Hive One warp point. But just before they departed from Orpheus-1, the drones reported one more datum: the newly arrived Kaituni fleet had curved back (the kind of maneuver made possible by reactionless, inertia-canceling drives) aft of the Bugs to join the oncoming armada from Home Hive Two. As he observed the fleets of nine Dispersates begin to coalesce well aft of the Bugs, Trevayne felt mixed emotions at the confirmation of his suspicions.
But then they were in Home Hive One, and after that the way to Pesthouse was short, for the warp points were only nine light-minutes apart, on a course that brought them nowhere near the system’s haunted planets. Trevayne nevertheless had time to evacuate Home Hive One’s fortresses—if two times had been more than enough, a third was unthinkable, and anyway he felt sure that even a robotic delaying action would suffice for his passage through the Pesthouse warp point, and allow him time to redeploy to face the inexorable, insensate Bug onslaught he knew would soon follow.
That redeployment fortunately left him little time to brood about the state of the force he was leading back. Only twenty percent of Second Fleet’s original tonnage remained, and only sixty percent of what he had brought from Tangri space. The fact that the forty percent attrition in the latter included the devastators and superdevastators he had detached rather than lose was cold comfort—especially considering the now-problematical usefulness of those great ships he had sent out of danger.
But the first thing he did, as soon as Zeven Provinciën had made transit, was to inquire as to whether the contingency orders to destroy Unity Warp Point Five had been followed. On learning that they had, he visibly sagged with relief.
Hagen cocked his head. “I know that had to be done, Admiral. But I can’t help wondering how the Orion leadership is going to feel about it.”
“How will they feel?” Trevayne’s gaze was far away, and elsewhere than on the Intelligence officer. “They will be proud that they have followed the honor code of theernowlus—followed it down a road their forefathers never imagined.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
Trevayne turned to Hagen with a smile. “It wasn’t humans—and least of all human politicians—who understood the need for that contingency. It took the Orions to understand it. They are warriors and think like warriors: you cannot leave a gate open when the enemy is approaching your walls, even if closing it means some of your own are shut out and can’t reach safety in time.”
“But what about the rest of the Orions?” Hagen wondered. “Will they realize that?”
“I don’t know. I hope they do. For I fear what might happen to our alliance if they do not. United, we at least have our backs to each other. Divided, we have no hope.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Once the last Etesh’nrem class destroyer transited the warp point from Mymzher into Franos to join the rest of the Kaituni ships waiting there, Work Group Manip Hunis’bern reclined further into her control pod. “It is well they have made safe passage,” she sent with a tone both (relieved, droll).
&nbs
p; Her one companion on the bridge, Jrersh-atr, returned a sense of (shared drollery). “Ah, you already miss the dour chants and high-minded commitment of our Destoshaz superiors, do you? Well, I say, Illudor bless and keep them all—far away from us.”
Hunis’bern responded with (amusement) but also (faint concern). “It would be wise to refrain from sends that could be claimed as being overtly seditious. Obliquity is our very good friend, Jrersh-atr.”
Her navigator blew tired air out his vestigial gills. “Truly, Hunis’bern? And who remains with us in the Mymzher system to tap into my self-incriminating sends? You? You are an informer to the highest caste?”
“I am simply saying that it is difficult to know whom one may trust these days. And it is difficult to know if one of the Ssershaz engine technicians might be on the other side of the bulkhead, selnarm alert for faint hints of our own.”
“As if those plodders have the selnarmic gift to be able to reach through the bulkhead to touch our thoughts? Please, Hunis’bern: you are starting at shadows.”
“Am I? And besides, it is improper to denigrate the Ssershaz so. How is it that we may share narmata with those whom we contemn? The sharing will be distorted by the lack of fellow-feeling.”
Jrersh-atr leaned out of his control pod far enough to be able to stare at Hunis’bern where she reclined. “And since when has narmata been more than an empty ritual, friend? Whatever it may once have been within and between our castes, it is no longer. And the Destoshaz ensure that its importance diminishes with every passing year.”
“Given your dangerously open contempt for the Destoshaz, I am surprised that their derogation of narmata is not enough to prompt you to mulishly embrace it.”
Jrersh-atr sent a reflexive wave of (mirth, wry appreciation). “I should know better to spar with you, Hunis’bern. But let us be practical—and practicality is, after all, the strongest trait amongst us Ixturshaz. The Destoshaz brook no disobedience, and who can best the least of them in a challenge? They have discouraged the practice of maatkah amongst the other castes and have made themselves the master of it and every other martial skill. The Selnarshaz perform what selnarmic tasks they require, we tend to computers and other machinery, and the other castes have all been relegated to the same fate as the Ssershaz: dronelike workers. Yes, I know, you’ve told me: this existence is far inferior that which our race once enjoyed. But, even if that was true at one time, it is the stuff of myths now, and we must live—and avoid execution—in the present. Lest we join the Shaxzhu, whose passing I would not—”
