This Day All Gods Die

by Stephen R. Donaldson

  Apparently he’d reached the end of his endurance. Inactivity and the strain of defying people he respected seemed to pain him more than he could bear.

  Nevertheless his threat didn’t touch Dolph. The captain’s eyes widened in mockery. “You’re kidding,” he croaked. “You expect me to believe you’ll kill me in cold blood? Shit, boy. You aren’t that tough.”

  Before Davies could fire a retort, Min Donner spoke.

  “Calm down, Dolph.” She sounded unexpectedly mild; composed and sure. Nevertheless the note of authority in her tone was unmistakable. “What do you want them to do? What would you do in Morn’s place—if you were a good cop who’s already been sold out once”—Min may have been referring to the UMCP’s decision to let Nick take Morn off Com-Mine—“and doesn’t have any reason to think we won’t do it again?

  “Don’t you think that formula should be made public? I know I do. Concealing an effective antimutagen is a crime against the people we’re supposed to serve. This mess should have been cleaned up long ago. But if it were up to us, we wouldn’t do it. We couldn’t release that formula without permission. If she wants to solve the problem for us, I don’t intend to get in her way.” The ED director smiled without a trace of humor. “Since I’m not in command here, I don’t have to.

  “You said the same thing yourself twenty minutes ago,” she finished flatly.

  “Shit,” Angus muttered in Min’s direction, “now I know we’re in trouble. I felt safer when you were acting righteous.”

  Dolph stared at her. For a moment his mouth hung open. Then he closed it. “That was before—” he began. But he couldn’t go on.

  Abruptly the speakers crackled. Without transition Director Lebwohl’s voice returned.

  “Ensign Hyland, this is Acting Director Lebwohl.” His condescension was gone, replaced by concern and a note of frailty. “Please listen to me. I must urge you not to take such extreme action. Since you do not acknowledge Captain Ubikwe’s authority, or Director Dormer’s, I presume you will ignore mine as well. For that reason, I do not order you to hold back. But I ask—no, Ensign Hyland, I implore you to reconsider.

  “To discuss either our tactical or our strategic situations is entirely outside my mandate. Neither you nor your companions can be allowed to affect the decisions which must be made here.

  “If you do not restrain yourself, I must order our forces to support Calm Horizons’ defense against you.”

  “Christ!” Davies protested. “If we don’t have the right ‘to affect the decisions,’ who does?”

  Morn raised her hand to silence him. Hashi wasn’t done.

  “I will mention one detail, however,” the DA director went on, “in the hope that you will recognize its significance.

  “Warden Dios is aboard Calm Horizons.”

  Morn flinched involuntarily. Davies yelped like a stung kid. Min stiffened as if an abyss had suddenly opened at her feet. Bydell and Porson blanched. With the heel of one hand, Captain Ubikwe struck himself on the forehead once; twice. Each blow made a moist, smacking sound, like a clap of despair.

  “It’s got to stop,” Angus remarked through his teeth. “He said that to me once. Looks like he was serious.”

  Hashi’s voice didn’t pause.

  “His shuttle delivered him to the Amnion hardly ten minutes ago. In my view, he is effectively a hostage. Nevertheless the stated purpose of his presence is to negotiate the survival of both the UMCP and the GCES.”

  There the DA director stopped. The speakers hissed and clicked with thrust static while he waited for Morn to find some reply which didn’t fill her with horror.

  MORN

  Warden Dios is aboard—

  Morn could hardly think.

  He is effectively a hostage.

  Of course. What else? Like the proton cannon trained on Suka Bator, this threat was really aimed at Punisher. At Trumpet’s people aboard the cruiser.

  Now Morn faced an abyss of her own: a completely different gulf than the one in front of Min; or the same chasm from the other side. She was the wrong person to be where she was, doing what she did. The wrong person altogether. Her loyalty to the UMCP director ran too deep: it had been in her family until it became almost genetic. Could she sacrifice him in order to tell her story; make Vector’s formula public? She didn’t think so.

  Someone else should be in command—someone who could reach decisions without counting what they cost.

  Angus couldn’t do it. His essential programming prevented him from harming UMCP personnel. And Davies couldn’t. His commitment to Warden Dios was clearer than Morn’s; less conflicted. Exhaustion and damage precluded Mikka. Like Vector, she couldn’t command Angus’ support.

  Morn needed a better answer.

  And she had no one else to turn to.

  “Director Donner—” Her voice cracked helplessly. A surge of hysteria took her: the vertigo of the abyss. She had to fight it down before she could speak. “I’m in command here. But I’m not really qualified to take Captain Ubikwe’s place. I certainly can’t take yours.” Was that pleading she heard in her voice? She didn’t care. The stakes were too high for her. “If you’re willing, you should talk to Director Lebwohl. Officially. As the director of Enforcement Division.”

  Angus faced her like the cut of a lash, his teeth clenched on curses. But Davies radiated a relief so palpable she could taste it. Vector watched her as if she’d become miraculous in ways he couldn’t understand.

  For no apparent reason, Ciro said distinctly, “Suck everything into a black hole.”

  Min didn’t hesitate: she shifted from passivity to action in an instant. Swift and sure, as keen as a hawk, she slapped open her belts, left her g-seat. Despite the added g of Punisher’s deceleration, she approached the command station as if she were pouncing. One precise touch keyed the pickup.

  “Hashi, this is Min.” A low thrill of release echoed in her tone. “Ensign Hyland wants me to talk to you.

  “I’m sure she’s serious about opening fire if she doesn’t get some cooperation. But I’m also sure she doesn’t want to trigger wholesale slaughter, if we can avoid it. This is official, Hashi. On the record.”

  “Director Donner,” Hashi sighed. “I must say that hearing your voice comforts me. Please offer Ensign Hyland my congratulations for an intelligent decision.”

  He paused, then said, “We have much to discuss. However, you will understand that I am constrained to inquire first how you come to be in such an unlikely predicament.”

  Morn understood. He wanted to know what kind of gun was being held to Min’s head.

  But Min deflected the question. “It’s a long story, Hashi. You don’t have time for it. For now I’ll just say that we have Trumpet in tow. And Trumpet carries singularity grenades.” In an acid tone, she finished, “You might mention that to Holt Fasner the next time you report.”

  Her whole body seemed to concentrate on the command station pickup as if it were a weapon. Apparently she wasn’t sure she could trust the DA director. His appointment as acting director must have occurred after she’d left UMCPHQ.

  “I do not report to CEO Fasner.” Hashi’s asperity buzzed from the speakers. He might have been declaring an allegiance. “He desires that I do so, naturally. Indeed, he is altogether insistent. By good fortune, Director Dios ordered me to refuse. And the Dragon has no authority to coerce me.”

  His response dismissed the usefulness of Angus’ gamble with Ciro. He may have missed the implications of Min’s hint. Or he may have considered them unimportant.

  He seemed to mark time for a beat or two. Then he announced, “However, I will contrive to make it known that I have resigned as acting director. The position is yours, Director Donner, with all the powers and responsibilities”—he sounded almost whimsical—“appertaining thereunto.”

  Morn ignored Captain Ubikwe’s surprise. She had no attention to spare for Angus’ reaction, or anyone else’s. She focused exclusively on Min’s voice, and Hashi�
��s, trying to make sense of the undercurrents between them; glean what she needed for her own decisions.

  “What?” Min retorted. “Are you out of your mind, Hashi? You can’t do that. Warden gave you the job.” She caught herself. “I mean, I assume he did.”

  Hashi’s silence conveyed a shrug.

  The muscles at the corner of Min’s jaw bunched like a fist. “So I also assume he had a reason. You probably know what that is. I don’t. Besides, I’m stuck out here on a ship that doesn’t take orders from me. I can’t—”

  “Nevertheless,” Hashi cut in, “you will accept the appointment, Min. Warden Dios did indeed elevate me to my exalted state. But he did so for the simple and sufficient reason that you were not here. No other explanation is necessary.”

  Without pausing he continued, “You will ask why I desire to be—as one might say—decommissioned. I must reply that my motives are various.

  “Surely you understand that you outrank me. Enforcement Division precedes Data Acquisition. It is right and proper that you should replace me.

  “In addition—” He sighed again. “I must say this, Min, although doubtless Ensign Hyland and her cohorts can hear me. As Acting Director I am not favorably placed to withstand the Dragon. I am here, precariously accessible to the great worm and his minions, as well as to”—his tone became a sneer—“our esteemed Council. Worse, I am also in communication with Calm Horizons. Hence I am vulnerable to any instructions or compromises which the Amnion may extract from Warden.

  “Finally I do not desire this responsibility. Command interests me—very little. And I have other duties which I believe require my attention. If my public profile is diminished,” he explained ambiguously, “the Dragon will find it more difficult to thwart me.

  “You are now Acting Director of the UMCP, Min.” Hashi’s earlier frailty had returned. “The transfer of authority has already been logged and recorded by both Center and Administration. If you decline the position, you must name a surrogate.”

  Roughly Min toggled the pickup. For a moment she scanned the bridge. Then she fixed her hard gaze on Morn. Her eyes hinted at vast dimensions, terrible depths: she could confront gulfs which made Morn quail. She wasn’t afraid to determine the fate of humankind.

  “If you’re going to stop me,” she said harshly, “do it now. Once I’m Acting Director, I won’t put up with any interference.

  “I’ll leave Punisher to you. I’ll cooperate with you as much as I can.” The winds of a chasm blew in her voice, cold and pitiless. “But if you don’t like the decisions I make for UMCPHQ—or for our other ships—you’ll have to kill me. And Captain Ubikwe.” Dolph nodded. “And the duty officers.” So did his people. “And then you’ll have to start on the rest of the crew. If I accept this job, I mean to do it.”

  “Morn,” Angus protested quickly, warning her. He stood near enough to protect her. “How many times have you told us we can’t trust the cops?”

  He was right, of course. No matter how she felt about Min Donner, Morn believed that the UMCP was corrupt. They’d stifled Intertech’s mutagen immunity research. They were owned by Holt Fasner and the UMC. The threat of Calm Horizons’ guns wouldn’t make them honest.

  Yet she lacked the resources to meet that threat. She could open fire: she was capable of that. Butcher millions of people. Get killed herself. Self-destruct—But if there was another way out of her dilemma, she couldn’t find it. She’d never been able to find it.

  She needed help.

  “Davies.” She turned away from Min to look around her. “Mikka. Vector. Can any of you think of a reason why we should trust Director Donner?”

  “Sure,” Davies said before anyone else replied. As if he were Morn’s father, the man he’d been named for, he answered, “She’s Min Donner.”

  Morn understood. In some ways he remembered Min more acutely than she did. And she had nothing else to go on.

  Angus swore. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  Morn faced him briefly. “It means she’s the right person for the job. And I’m not.” Then she returned her gaze to Min.

  “Go ahead.”

  Min didn’t hesitate. A combative flare lit her eyes as she thumbed the pickup toggle. Without preamble she demanded, “What duties, Hashi? You know I’m not going to refuse. Not with so many lives at stake. Not when Warden is in this much trouble. But if you want to drop this load on my shoulders, you better tell me what I’m carrying.”

  The DA director had been waiting for her answer; but his response avoided her question. “As Acting Director,” he stated formally, distantly, as if his thoughts were already elsewhere, “your duties are at once simple and ambiguous. The chartered purpose of the UMCP is to preserve and defend humankind. You see the threat. A Behemoth-class Amnion warship armed with super-light proton cannon has violated our space. Her matter cannon and other weapons are more than adequate to destroy UMCPHQ. Her proton gun impends over Suka Bator. Given time, she can ruin much that is vital to us, both planet-side and in orbit.

  “The scan net has doubtless made our defensive preparations visible to you. Center will brief you further whenever you wish.

  “Clearly you must deal with Calm Horizons.”

  While Hashi spoke, Davies left his g-seat and came to stand beside Angus at the command station. Captain Ubikwe did the same as if he thought Min might need his support. During the rest of the DA director’s speech, they seemed to keep watch.

  “The Amnioni’s approach has been curious as well as unexpected,” Hashi observed. “It appears that she has a former human being aboard—one Marc Vestabule.”

  Morn gasped involuntarily. Davies drew a hissing breath through his teeth. Even Mikka flinched, despite her emotional exhaustion. They had encountered Vestabule first on Enablement Station, then at Billingate. More than once, he’d boarded Captain’s Fancy to present the Amnion demand for Davies’ life. And Nick had delivered Morn to him. In a cell in the Amnion sector of Billingate, he’d injected a mutagen into her veins.

  If she’d thought about it, she might have guessed that he was with Calm Horizons. She’d seen a shuttle leave the Amnion sector before Captain’s Fancy went down; before Billingate was destroyed. He must have been on it.

  His presence made Calm Horizons’ purpose painfully obvious.

  Min noticed Morn’s reaction, and Davies’, but she didn’t interrupt Hashi.

  The DA director was saying, “This individual has been ‘invested with decisiveness.’ Quaint phrase. Although he came upon us of his own volition, he acknowledges the impossibility of his position. He may harm us on any imaginable scale, but in the end Calm Horizons will surely die. And the longer combat is postponed, the less harm we will suffer before the end. In any case, much of our capacity for retaliation and vengeance will remain intact. The potential cost of warfare may be greater than the Amnion can bear.

  “Because this Marc Vestabule was once human, he claims the ability to reason in human terms. And he has insisted that there is an issue—an unspecified point of contention—upon which humankind’s future against the Amnion depends, and which can only be resolved by personal negotiation. On pain of Suka Bator’s destruction, and our own, he has demanded Warden’s presence aboard his vessel in order to ‘discuss’ this matter.”

  For a moment Hashi seemed more present. His tone sharpened. “Marc Vestabule has not named his concerns, but you know them as well as I do. Certainly Warden does.” Then his abstraction distanced him again. “For that reason—among others—he has complied with Vestabule’s demand. He is duty-bound to stave off bloodshed and damage if he can. And he hopes to prevent the defensive from attacking you immediately. He has not spoken to us since he went aboard. His shuttle is in transit from Calm Horizons.

  “When you receive Warden’s orders, you must decide how—or indeed whether—to carry them out.”

  The suggestion of frailty in Hashi’s voice increased. “Even if the Amnioni’s concerns are resolved to his satisfactio
n, I believe Warden will not be released. Calm Horizons will retain him in an attempt to ensure our compliance. Hence I consider him a hostage. I mention this so that you will comprehend all the consequences of refusing his instructions.”

  “I understand, Hashi,” Min pronounced acidly. “Just because I’m ED doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

  Hashi ignored her retort. Still wanly, he continued, “In addition, you must decide how best to answer Holt Fasner’s demands. In some sense, his importunity is justified. He owns the UMCP. Were it not for the War Powers provisions of our charter, he would be entitled to req every scrap of data we possess, and to treat with Calm Horizons himself. And even under conditions of war, he retains the power to fire Warden. Doubtless he would cite ‘malfeasance’ to account for his action.”

  Morn and Davies both winced at the idea. Was Holt Fasner capable of firing Warden while the UMCP director was being held hostage? Despite the fact that Warden was risking his life to save millions of others? Apparently Hashi thought so.

  However, Min heard Hashi’s statement in other terms. She cocked her head. “But he can’t fire us, Hashi. Can he?”

  “No.” Hashi’s reply suggested a grim satisfaction. “Only the UMCP director can do that. The great worm must dispense with Warden and replace him. Until then we are secure.”

  Min permitted herself a thin sigh of relief.

  “I might also say,” Hashi went on, “that in my view it is open to question whether UMCPHQ would accept a replacement under these conditions. Our Warden has never inspired more loyalty here than he does at this moment.”

  Morn nodded in recognition. She might have felt that way herself.

  “All right.” Min straightened her shoulders. “I have the situation. I’ll talk to Center in a minute.” She paused to collect her thoughts, then pursued, “But you still haven’t told me what your duties are.”