The clerk on duty sounded bored. “This is the Roscracia Sector Gate, what can we do for you?”
“This is the GU Packard.” Kari Wang made it crisp and military. “We require a jump to Aratoga sector 123.2143.23, effective immediately.”
“As you are aware, we are in a war situation here, and there might be a slight delay in obtaining codes. I’ll need to confirm your—”
“Just get me the jump and stop mucking around.”
Ean looked at Kari Wang. She looked back. The clerk put the line on hold—which didn’t stop Ean’s hearing it—and said, “Military. All the same. Must have it now. There’s a war on.” He took the line off hold. “Sending an identity check through now. Please reply with the correct response, or I will be unable to provide the jump.”
Ean sang the check on through the Eleven and back to the GU Packard. “Confirm it. It is correct. Send back the right code.”
For a moment, he didn’t think it would work. He changed his tune to include line eight. “Send the confirmation through.”
Something went back, and Ean held his breath until the clerk said, “Codes confirmed. Please wait while I set a jump for you.” His tone changed, to a monotonous cadence. “Please be aware that requesting an immediate jump incurs a surcharge of 200 percent. You must confirm this and accept the surcharge as part of the jump contract.” He said it like it was something he’d recited hundreds of times before.
“Accepted,” Kari Wang said.
“This acceptance must be confirmed by the officer in charge of your ship, the ship second, or the ship third.”
“I confirm as officer in charge.” Kari Wang wound her finger in front of Ean, as if wanting him to do something.
What did she want?
A signal came through then. “Please use a thumbprint and retina scan and return this as the authorizing officer.”
She held her comms up to scan her eyes, then pressed her thumb against the screen. “Sending confirmation through now.”
She sounded as if she’d done it a thousand times.
Kari Wang circled her finger at Ean again. This time he understood what she wanted. He sang the confirmation through. He didn’t route it via the other ship. All they wanted was confirmation that she was captain and that she was authorized to request this.
“Thank you, Captain. Setting your jump now.”
The clerk whistled tunelessly as he set the codes. Kari Wang twitched as they waited. Wendell paced.
Ean tuned them out. He had lines to thank. “We appreciate you letting us borrow your lines.”
The human ship lines didn’t respond in words, but he thought they were pleased to be talking to other lines.
They were so weak compared to the lines on the Eleven and the Wendell. He could hear Wendell’s boots as the pacing got faster.
Grayson, Wendell’s second-in-command, was at the comms. He moved. Ean wouldn’t have interpreted it as anything, but Wendell did and stopped.
“Enemy ships have noticed us,” he said.
“Coordinates coming through,” the clerk said, seconds later, but it felt like hours. He pushed them down line five. “Thank you, Captain Kari Wang. Have a great trip.”
“Thank you,” Kari Wang said, and clicked off.
Ean kept the line open and sang the clerk’s comms open, so he could hear what came next. Sure enough, “Wasn’t that the GU Packard?” the clerk said. “Shouldn’t that have been Captain Packard?”
He punched in a code to the ship Ean had used. “Captain Packard, confirming the jump you recently requested.”
Kari Wang pushed the codes through to Wendell. “Lambert.”
Ean began singing to the sevens.
“Ship, prepare to jump,” Wendell said.
They entered the void.
* * *
IN Aratogan space, all was quiet.
Somewhere, close to one of the weapons bays, Spacer Tinatin was talking to Spacer Qatar. “They didn’t want him on the Lancastrian Princess anymore, so they sent him to Confluence Station. But Confluence Station didn’t want him either, so now he’s here on the Eleven, until they can work out what to do with him.”
“You are full of it, Tinatin,” Qatar said.
On the Lancastrian Princess, Abram was back at his old desk in his and Michelle’s workroom, talking to Admiral Dirks, from Aratoga. Dirks must have been on Haladea III, for Ean couldn’t get any information other than what he could hear through line five.
“Now in Aratogan space. No ships close by.” Kari Wang used her human screens to tell her that. “Moving toward the battleground.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Abram looked toward Dirks’s screen. “We now have real-time communication with the Aratogan sector, Admiral. The comms is yours.”
“I could get used to this.” Dirks’s grin was a toothy baring of teeth. There was something about admirals. They showed more teeth than other soldiers. Maybe it was a seniority thing. He clicked on his comms, through to another admiral. A woman this time. “Brant. Dirks here.”
Ean sang the feed going to Abram’s screens onto one of Kari Wang’s screens. She nodded her thanks.
“This had better be important, Dirks. We’ve a situation at this end.”
“I know. We’re sending you reinforcements.”
“That’s going to be a lot of use. This battle will be over in six hours.”
Six hours. How did she know with such precision how long it would be?
Brant looked at the comms. “You’re in real time. You’re in the Aratogan sector?” She was animated suddenly. “What are you sending us? And how long will they be?” Ean heard her say quietly to someone, “Get Commodore Summers on the comms.”
“We’re two hours away,” Kari Wang said.
“Who in the lines are you?”
“Captain Kari Wang, ma’am. New Alliance governance fleet.”
Governance fleet? Ean had never heard of it. Neither, by her frown, had Brant.
“We are in the Aratogan sector and making at speed toward—”
“Kari Wang. The Eleven? You’re sending me one of the alien ships?”
“Affirmative,” Dirks said.
“Admiral Brant, Admiral Galenos here. Understand that this is a trial run. We are still testing the Eleven. Results might be unexpected.” A strong sound of Ean came through with that. “We ask that you give the ship space to do what it needs to do, and if Captain Kari Wang asks your people to do something, then they should do it. It will be for their safety. Sometimes our control is . . . erratic.”
“Give us access to that green field,” Brant said, “and I don’t care how erratic you are. Even the sight of the ship should scare them. Hell, it scares me and it’s on our side.”
“Command of the Eleven is yours, Admiral Brant.”
“Commodore Summers is the man in charge at the scene.” Brant switched in another line. “Are you there, Commodore?”
“Admiral.”
“Situation report.”
“We’ve ten enemy ships surrounding Asteroids 527 and 629,” Summers said. “Ships range from a two-hundred-crew Class Three warship to one-hundred-crew Class Five.” He put the data and maps on-screen as well. Ean pushed that through to the Eleven and to the Wendell. “These asteroids contain the offices and supply stores for the whole belt. If we lose them, we lose control of the asteroids. We’ve five Aratogan ships. With the exception of the ship I am on, all are smaller warships with less than a hundred crew. We have five battle cruisers two light-years away, but we can’t get jumps for them.”
“Sounds bad,” Brant said. “But you’re about to get reinforcements.”
“We’ll be glad of them.” Summers stumbled, then righted himself.
It took Kari Wang’s saying, “He’s under attack,” before Ean realized what had happened.
&nb
sp; “They hit him?”
Kari Wang nodded.
Summers glanced over to where someone was giving orders, then looked back. “How many? What class? When will they be here?”
“One ship,” Brant said.
Ean didn’t need the image on Abram’s screen to see Summers wince.
But they didn’t have one ship, they had two. And one of them was effectively unarmed.
“Class—” Brant looked at Abram. “Does it have a class?”
“Eleven,” Abram said.
“Never heard of it,” Summers said. Then he did a double take, much like Brant had before. He looked from Abram to Dirks to Brant. “One of the alien ships?”
“Affirmative.”
“How long to get here?”
“One hundred and fifteen minutes,” Kari Wang said.
Ean tuned them out. He’d brought the Wendell along; he had to make sure Wendell and his crew were safe.
The conversation between the admirals, commodore, and captain was done. The Aratogans clicked off, leaving only the Eleven fleet ships online.
“Wendell,” Kari Wang said, “you should stay here. We’ll collect you on the way back.”
“No,” Ean said. “He should come inside the protective field.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Abram said. “Was Wendell’s coming along an accident? Or deliberate?”
He hadn’t gotten Ean’s message. Another thing they knew now. You couldn’t send messages while you were in the void.
“We couldn’t set the jump on the Eleven,” Kari Wang said.
“I can see that might be a problem. I wonder how the aliens did it.” Abram gave a wry smile. “Maybe you should have used one of the media ships, Ean.” Ean wasn’t sure if he was joking. “This could be an impressive show.”
“Wendell,” Ean said, for Wendell wasn’t making any attempt to move.
“Sure, I’ll come along,” Wendell said. “But I’m not going in close. Not even to ensure my protection. Not at the speeds we’re traveling.”
“It was safe when the Lancastrian Princess did it.”
“The Lancastrian Princess wasn’t traveling at full speed toward a battle. No thank you, Ean. I’d prefer to take my chances following behind.”
“Not to mention he’ll slow us down,” Kari Wang said. Which was true, for the alien ships could travel twice as fast as the Bose engines could drive human ships.
Admiral Brant called back. Commodore Summers not long after. Kari Wang and Mael were soon deep in tactical discussions.
“War is mostly waiting,” Bhaksir told Ean. “With occasional exciting moments. Hanging around you, it’s more exciting than normal.”
Ean liked life quiet. The lines, his crewmates on the Lancastrian Princess—especially Radko, wherever she was—and the alien ships. His preferred adventures were discovering new things about the lines.
He listened to the lines and kept out of Kari Wang’s way.
Ten minutes later, a ship jumped into space close enough for the Eleven to register the lines. Then another. Then a third. The three of them started to move toward the Wendell.
“Damn.” Kari Wang didn’t sound surprised. She called up Wendell. “You’ve three ships closing in on you.”
“We can see two of them. Where’s the third?”
Ships broadcast their location, but because communication within a sector was instantaneous, most ships ignored anything outside a known radius of their own ship unless they were specifically contacting another ship. Otherwise, they’d drown in the information overload.
Kari Wang gave coordinates.
Ean looked at the positions. Sure, the ships were thousands of kilometers apart—but that was normal for jumps. These three ships had arrived in close succession, and had arrived close to where the Eleven had jumped.
Now they were making for the nearest ship.
Ean had brought the Wendell into this battle and left him there. “We have to go back and rescue him.”
“We have a battle plan. Other ships are working to our timetable, have already started moving. What do you want me to do? Call them up, and say, ‘Sorry, we’ll be delayed’?”
Yes, he did. “We can’t leave one of our own fleet.”
“This is war, Lambert.”
Another ship arrived. Then another. Gate Union intended to make sure of their kill.
War or not, Ean couldn’t leave Wendell there to face five ships. He opened his mouth to sing.
Kari Wang took out her blaster. “You jump us back to that ship, and you’re a dead man.”
Bhaksir jumped up hurriedly. “I can’t let you do that, Captain.”
Ean didn’t think Kari Wang would kill him, but she would knock him out, and he wouldn’t be any use to anyone then. He closed his mouth.
Maybe he should try singing Wendell home. Or . . . “Why don’t I swap? Like we did with Confluence Station? That won’t cause too much delay, and we know it works.”
“Last time we did that, we weren’t traveling at this speed,” but he could see she was considering it.
“The Eleven knows what to do. And it’s not like we’re doing anything dangerous.” He hoped. “We’re switching places.”
“Can you guarantee that?”
He wanted to lie. “No.”
She put her blaster away. “If you’d said yes, Lambert, we wouldn’t be thinking of this.”
If he couldn’t guarantee it, why was she thinking of it? “I will do my best to make it as safe as we can.”
“I’m not sure that’s the right approach with you.” Kari Wang turned to the screen. “So, Wendell, you’ve five ships headed toward you. I’m sure you’d like to fight your way out of it, but Lambert has a suggestion.”
“They’re not good odds this end,” Wendell admitted. “We only have six warheads. I’ll listen to any suggestions.”
His crew were already making plans. Ean could see them, calculating distances and trajectories.
“We’re thinking a swap, much like Lambert did with Confluence Station. We don’t want to swap too often, or I’ll lose too much trajectory.”
“Minimum number of swaps.” Wendell scratched his chin.
“Minimum number any sane person would do. I don’t want to die of fright doing it.”
Was she talking about him or about Wendell?
“Give me some calculations, Piers, and a safety margin.”
Wendell came up with three jumps to get all five ships. “We could do it in two, but you’ll be getting close to one of the ships.”
It meant a change in course, and Wendell had planned that so it looked as if he were trying to avoid one of the ships, which in fact took him into the path of another two.
“With luck, they’ll see what you do to the first two, and the rest will retreat to regroup,” Wendell said. “That’s what I would do.”
Provided everything worked as planned.
They watched the ships move closer to Wendell. Too close. What if the Wendell was destroyed before the Eleven swapped? Atmosphere on the Wendell was calm, ready for battle. Wendell paced around the bridge, slow and careful, as if he wanted to cover every centimeter of surface.
On the Eleven, there was a lot of nervous excitement. Kari Wang continued to drill her crew, treating it like a training exercise. Ean wasn’t sure if she believed it was, if it was to keep them calm, or if she thought they needed more training.
Two hours ago, Ean had been listening to Michelle tell them Emperor Yu had called Abram a traitor.
The Eleven drew closer to the battle. The Wendell grew closer to the warships.
“Shields up,” Wendell said, as the first ship fired. “Take evasive action as needed but keep heading toward those ships.”
Eventually, the two ships were as close as planned. The Wendell took som
e damage, but Wendell’s crew were good and the Gate Union ships wary, so damage was minimal.
Wendell stopped pacing. “We’re in range.”
Commodore Summers came online. “You are within range of our sensors, Eleven.”
“Good,” Kari Wang said. “Ean. Switch.”
Ean sang the request. “Switch places, with the Wendell, please. Like you did the other night with Confluence Station.”
“Preparing to enter the void,” Kari Wang said, but by the time she’d said it, they were out the other side.
“Captain Kari Wang?” Summers said.
“One moment,” Kari Wang said. “Status report?”
“We’re about to get shot,” Mael said.
“Thank you, Mael, that’s truly helpful.”
But Mael was already adding, “One ship at 234.23.33, one at 235.24.186.”
“No one in range here,” Wendell said. “But I see a lot of ships within ten to twenty minutes.”
“Ean. Turn on the field.”
Ean sang the protective field on.
“Mael, set a course between the two ships. I want the Eleven to pass within nine kilometers of the first, then be ready to swing around and do the same for the other.”
The enemy ship frantically fired side rockets to turn. It was too slow. The protective field triggered at just under ten kilometers and spread outward from the Eleven. This time, Ean was listening for the quick, deep dirge of line nine. The enemy ship disappeared, its lines with it.
The Eleven and its crew sang with triumph.
A whole ship, gone in seconds.
Ean didn’t join the singing.
The green field spread out inexorably farther. Two hundred kilometers farther, then it stopped, held for thirty counts, then began to recede. All the while, the Eleven moved closer to the second ship.
Through line five on the second ship, Ean heard the captain requesting a jump. He held his breath. Abram always had a jump ready. Please let these people have a jump ready.
Mael counted off the distance on one of the human screens. “Two hundred eighty kilometers. Two hundred seventy kilometers. Two hundred sixty kilometers.”
Confluence Page 10
