She noticed the time lag had grown. Dagmar was outrunning Amethyst, if “run” made sense when you spoke of coordinates, vectors, fields, and their derivatives in three-space. Evidently Ironbright thought that switching over to hypertransmission would be more trouble than it was worth. Or did he welcome these moments, to consider what to say? “The Dominance is concerned about safety.” Was he trying to wheedle? “A cosmic cataclysm will soon take place. You are not prepared for it.”
Valen straightened and grinned. “Oh, but we are. That’s why we’re here.” He went on as Orichalc had advised, finishing with: “Since no claim has been assented to, we have as much right as [126] anybody. They know on Asborg where we are, and that you are here. I don’t imagine your colleagues want an interstellar incident.”
Dismay and rage hissed under the incongruous mellowness of Dagmar’s translating voice. “How do you know? What spies have you set on our sacred Nestmother?”
“To the best of my knowledge, none. And I wouldn’t call the concealment of a scientific treasure trove a friendly act. Nor do I suppose other spacefaring societies, including the other Susaian nations, will so regard it. I repeat, we mean no harm or interference. We hope your chief of operations will contact us when your officers have conferred and decided on a proposal intended to be mutually satisfactory. I respectfully suggest, and ask you to convey the suggestion, that they start thinking at once.”
“Good,” oozed from Orichalc’s cubicle. “Firmness and correctness, after Ironbright faltered in both. The grand commander should well evaluate the playback of this conversation.”
“Signing off, then,” the Susaian captain grimly. “You shall receive more soon.” Lissa heard an abrupt absence of background sounds she had not noticed before.
“You did it! Whee, you did!” She leaped at Valen, threw her arms around his neck, kicked heels in air. “I love you!”
“We’ve just begun, and God knows what’ll happen next.” She let go and he activated the general intercom. “Attention. Urgent news.”
“We’re busy, for Founder’s sake!” Esker exclaimed, obviously from the main lab.
“Too busy for the Susaians?”
“Huh? Oh. Carry on, you,” to the assistants. “A minute. ... All right. Tell me.”
Valen did. “We’re leaving them behind, you say,” the physicist answered. “They’re doubtless unarmed anyway.”
“Unless that fellow was lying, they do have some combat-worthy units. And messages must be flying from end to end of their fleet.”
“The farther in we go,” Dagmar reminded, “the smaller the [127] volume of ambient space and therefore the more difficult evasion becomes. It is certainly incompatible with keeping station.”
“I’ll bet you’re better armed than anything they’ve got here,” Esker said. “Stand up to the stinking lizards. Make them crawl.”
“Orichalc,” Valen sighed, “may we have your opinion, and your pardon for that language?”
“My guess is that naval strength is small and incidental, confined to two or three craft whose real task is to help out in emergencies,” replied calmness—or steely self-control? “Granted, the command will consider our advent an emergency. If they do possess superior force, they will probably threaten us with it.”
“They don’t,” Esker said. “I swear they don’t. Fight. Blow ’em out of the universe.”
Lissa remembered violent deaths she had witnessed. It was like a benediction when Valen responded, “Only in self-defense, and only as an absolute last resort. I don’t want to hear any more such talk. Go back to your studies. Let me know if a worthwhile thought occurs to you.” He switched off.
Turning to Lissa, he took her hands in his. “I’m afraid that henceforward we’re on twenty-four-hour duty.” He smiled the smile that was like Davy’s. “Well, we did luck out on this watch.” He drew her close. The kiss was brief and wistful.
“Memories to look at, whenever we get a moment to pull them out of our pockets,” Lissa agreed. “We’ll enlarge the collection in future.” Abruptly she giggled. “Speaking of pockets, we’d better grab a quick shower and get dressed. It doesn’t make any difference to the Susaians, but we’d scarcely overawe our human shipmates as we are, would we?”
XXIII
AHEAD, the envelopes of the black holes burned hell-bright, drowning naked-eye vision of everything else in the dark around them. Without magnification, they were still little more than star-points. Incredible, that the masses of whole suns and the energies to annihilate them were rammed down into volumes so tiny. But the gases around the ergospheres were now mingling in an incandescent storm cloud. Sparks blew off, glared and guttered out.
Elsewhere in heaven, from her control globe, Lissa saw the Susaian ships. They and Dagmar had matched velocities and now orbited unpowered, those three in linear formation, she some thousand kilometers from them, a separation that would increase only slowly for the next hour or two. Much enlarged, their images remained minuscule, spindle shapes lost in the star-swarm beyond.
Just the same, she felt very alone. Valen was in his own globe. He had linked his communicator to hers, but no other human was in the circuit, nor was Orichalc. This connection would be audiovisual, and he had counseled against letting the other Susaians know of one whom they must regard as a traitor. Yonder midges could spit lightnings and missiles. Her heart beat quickly.
The screen before her flickered. Its projection split into a pair. Valen’s head confronted that of a Susaian, whose skin was yellow with black zigzags down the sides. Was the same strain upon both faces? She couldn’t read the alien’s. Nor could she know what feelings were in the tones that went underneath Dagmar’s methodical running translation. But then, the opposite applied too. Didn’t it?
“Hail, Captain Gerward Valen,” she heard. “I am Moonhorn, [129] Dominator, in ultimate command of the Great Confederacy’s astrophysical quest.”
“Your presence honors us, madam.” How does he know that creature’s quasisex? she wondered. Well, in the past he dealt with members of many races, and he’s intelligent, observing—he cares.
“Ts-s-s.” A laugh? “You show us curious courtesy, sir. In total contempt of authority, you have continued on your way, forcing us to divert these craft from important duties. That makes hypocrisy of your assertion that you mean to create no disturbance.”
“No, madam.” Valen spoke levelly, patiently. “As soon as your representative called for rendezvous at a point we agreed was reasonable, we commenced maneuvers toward it. I cannot see any need for you to send three vessels. One would have served, surely; or we could have talked by radio. Are you trying to intimidate us? Quite unnecessary. We’re the same peaceful scientists we took you to be.”
Now there’s hypocrisy for you! whooped Lissa. A fraction of the sweat-cold tension slacked off within her.
Hairless head lifted on sinuous neck. “Police need weapons against contumacious lawbreakers. Indications were that your ship is of a heavily armed type.”
“That is true, madam, but it doesn’t mean that we want to menace anybody or throw our weight around.” No more than we’ve got to. “You have had a good look at us. If your databanks are complete, you’ve recognized the model and know more or less what firepower we carry. You should also know why. This vessel is for exploration, where unpredictable demands on her can always come out of nowhere.”
“You do not need nucleonics against primitive natives, sir, and when have starfarers attacked you?”
“Never, madam. And we devoutly hope none ever will. Certainly the owners, the House of Windholm, have no such intention. But an expedition just might run into, ah, parties willing to violate civilized canons. Far more likely, of course, nature may suddenly turn hostile. Antimissile magnetohydronamics deflect [130] solar flare particles. A warhead excavates where a shelter is to be built. An energy beam drills a hole through ice, for geologists and prospectors to reach the minerals beneath. Besides work like that, this ship took a large
investment. People protect their investments.”
“Your best protection is to depart, sir. This vicinity will soon be unpredictably dangerous.” Does she have a dry sense of humor? wondered Lissa. Well, Orichalc does.
“We’re prepared for that as fully as I’d guess you are, madam. This situation is unique. We can’t abandon our mission without betraying our race.” Valen raised his brows and smiled—for Lissa. “Unless the Dominance plans to share everything you discover with the rest of the civilizations.”
Moonhorn’s head struck back and forth at emptiness. “How did you learn of us?”
“I’m not at liberty to tell you, madam, assuming for argument’s sake that I know. But we’ve transmitted home the data we acquired along the way. You’d expect us to, wouldn’t you? The basic secret is out. Why not let us carry on our observations in peace—or, better yet, join you in making them? Think of the goodwill the Confederacy will earn throughout space.”
Silence seethed. Had the black holes moved perceptibly closer? Less than two days remained before the crash.
“No,” fell from Moonhorn. “I ... have no right ... to grant such permission. This was our discovery. We staked our efforts, our lives, for cycle after cycle. Yes, you have stolen something from us, but the great revelations you shall not have. Turn about, sir, or we must destroy you.”
“Can you?” Valen challenged. “And firing on us would be an act of war, madam.”
“Sir, it would not. Asborg would feel aggrieved, but be a single planet against the Confederacy. No other nation would be so lunatic as to fight about an incident so remote in every sense of the concept. Arbitrators would offer their services, an indemnity might be paid, and that would be that.”
[131] She understands politics, Lissa thought. And ... I wouldn’t spend lives and treasure myself, over something like this. Maybe, in a hundred years, when the Dominance has powers nobody else does, maybe then I’d be sorry. But today I’d just hope that things will work out somehow.
“Therefore,” Moonhorn continued, “I urge you, sir, I implore you, not to compel us. Be satisfied with what you have. Go home.”
Valen made her wait for an entire minute before he replied, “Madam, with due respect, your demand is unlawful, unreasonable, and unacceptable. The right of innocent passage and access to unclaimed celestial bodies is recognized by every spacefaring nation. I have no intention of heeding your demand, and do not believe you have the power to enforce it.”
“They are small units,” Dagmar had said. “Their combined firepower barely approximates mine; and I am a single vessel, self-integrated, with stronger defenses and more acceleration capability. They could perhaps take me in a well coordinated attack, but I estimate the probability of that as no more than forty percent.”
“And supposing they did wipe us, you’d get one or two of them first, most likely, wouldn’t you?” Lissa had pointed out. “That’d be a big setback to their whole operation. I’m sure those three are all the armed craft they have here. They aren’t meant for guardians, they’re for possible rescue or salvage work, and they must have scientific assignments of their own as well.”
“Right,” Valen had said. “They’ll be making the same calculations.”
The image of Moonhorn’s head leaned forward, as if trying to meet the man’s eyes. “Would you truly be so barbarous as to initiate deadly violence?” she asked low.
“We’ll go about our business, and defend ourselves if assaulted,” Valen declared. “After all, madam, a government that really upheld civilized ideals would not have kept a discovery like this hidden. It would have invited general cooperation, for everybody’s benefit. Please don’t speak to me about barbarity.”
[132] Silence and stars. Is Moonhorn ashamed? Poor being. But dangerous, because dutiful.
“We don’t want to disrupt your work, or anything like that,” Valen continued. “We absolutely don’t want a battle. Nor do you, madam. In spite of everything, you are civilized too.”—no matter those aspects of your society that drove Orichalc to seek refuge, and caused you to conceal these wonders. “Can’t we compromise?”
Silence again. Lissa’s knuckles whitened above the weapons console.
“It appears we must,” said Moonhorn, and Lissa’s hands lifted through weightlessness to catch at tears.
XXIV
AGAIN Dagmar decelerated toward her destination.
Valen, Lissa, and Orichalc entered the saloon together. The physicists were already there, aquiver. Esker leaped to his feet. “Well?” he cried.
“We have leave to proceed.” Valen told them.
Elif gusted out a breath. Noel and Tessa raised a cheer. “Marvelous!” Esker jubilated. “Oh, milady—” He saw her face more closely and broke off.
Valen moved to the head of the table. His companions flanked him. “It was a tough bargaining session,” the woman said.
“I know,” Tessa mumbled. “It went on and on. And when boost came back, and we didn’t know where we were bound—”
“You’ll have your shot at our target,” said Valen. He sat down. The rest who were standing did likewise. Orichalc crouched on the bench. The captain’s gaze sought Esker.
“I couldn’t push my opposite number, Dominator Moonhorn, too hard,” he went on. “She must have been given considerable discretion and choice. That’s usual for Confederacy officers in the field. And mainly, no reinforcements could reach her in time. Even if somebody withdrew to hyperbeam distance and called, and they jumped at once, it’d take them too long to cross the normal-drive distance. The black holes would already have met, and meanwhile we could be playing hob with the Susaians on the scene. And in fact, Dagmar hasn’t detected any new arrivals, which she could do. Still, Moonhorn surely received orders not to give away the store.”
“An officer of the Confederacy who shows cowardice is [134] strangled,” Orichalc said. “One who shows poor judgment is ruined. Over and above these considerations is nest-honor.”
“So I mustn’t leave her with no choice but to attack,” Valen continued. “That would mean a certainty of heavy loss to the Susaians and a better than fifty percent chance of losing everything; though if we won, we might still be crippled. And while the political repercussions wouldn’t be catastrophic, they’d be troublesome. On the other hand, Moonhorn couldn’t, wouldn’t meekly stand aside and let us take all the forbidden fruit we might.
“The fact that we had already taken a good deal, and passed it on to Asborg, weighed heavily. What I had to do was give Moonhorn a way to cut her side’s losses. We dickered—”
Esker’s fist smote the table. “Will you get to the point?” he yelled. “What did you agree to?”
Valen squared his shoulders. “No cooperation, no information exchange,” he said. “That was too much to hope for. But we may take station at the minimum safe distance you want. Congratulations; they’d arrived at almost the identical figure, and had more and better numbers to work with. They have four live-crewed ships there, on the two orthogonal axes you described.
“We must not come any nearer to either axis than—the Susaian units equal about one million kilometers. We must not enter the orbital plane of the black holes at all.”
“What?” Esker sprang back to his feet. He leaned across the table, shuddering. “Why, you— That plane’s where the most vital observations— You clotbrain! Didn’t you ever listen to me? A rotating black hole drags the inertial frame with it. Those two have opposite spins, differently oriented. Cancellations, additions—the whole tendency will be for things to happen, unprecedented things, exactly in that mutual plane—and you threw this away for us!”
“Quiet!” Valen shouted. Into the rage that choked and sputtered at him, he explained in a voice gone flat: “I did know. So did Moonhorn. I asked for a place farther out on the. axis in the plane, or at least somewhere in it. She refused. We went around [135] and around, with me offering different versions, and always it ended in refusal. I couldn’t stop to consult with
you, if I’d wanted to. Frankly, I was amazed to get what I did. The minimum radius, only a million kilometers north of the plane. Not quite twenty minutes of arc to sight down along. Does it make any serious difference?”
“Yes,” Esker said as if through a noose. “Plane polarization of generated gravitons is likely, and who can foresee what else? It—it—Captain, you’ve got to renegotiate. You must.”
“No,” Valen stated. “I can’t risk it.”
“The balance in Moonhorn’s mind is certain to be fragile,” Orichalc added. “She may well decide that an attempt to alter the agreement shows bad faith, and feel compelled to give us an ultimatum, that we depart or fight.”
“Then, by God, you give the ultimatum yourself!” Esker flung forth. “They’ll back down. You admit you were surprised at what they did concede. They are weaker than us. We can destroy them, do our research, and be safely homeward bound before they can bring any real warship to bear. And they know it.”
“If I knew for sure we’d win any fight without damage to ourselves,” Valen said, “I still would not risk killing sentient beings for as little as this.”
“Little, you call it? Little? You idiot, you idiot, you—traitor to your race—”
Wrath flashed up in Lissa. She slapped the table. “That will do, client,” she called. “Hold your tongue, or else if the captain doesn’t confine you, I will.”
The eyes into which she looked seemed glazed, blind. “Yes, you would,” Esker raved, “you, his slut. Do you imagine we haven’t seen you two smirk, sneak off, and come back smarmy enough to gag a disposal?”
It isn’t the loss to his science that’s driven him over the edge, she understood, appalled.
Worse came after: “Oh, you’ve got fine taste in men, you do. You pick the great Gerward Valen, the one who ran away at Naia. [136] Have you heard, shipmates? They were evacuating people from a meteoroid bombardment. He lost his nerve and bolted. Now he’s so very tender of lives. How many did you leave to die on Naia, Valen?”
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