I’d managed to talk to the herd peoples of Eden and get them to turn off Marvin’s download. They did so without an argument, telling me the sky was bountiful and the winds would forever ruffle my fur. Something like that. I was sure to them, they were paying me the highest of compliments for coming back and driving the Macros out of their system.
I anxiously watched this development with my command staff. But according to all our calculations, they were all targeting the same remote point, the spot which we suspected contained a second hidden ring in the Eden system. I realized thoughtfully that every system we’d visited thus far had at least two rings. The Aldebaran system had three, including the small one on Helios. Even the blue giant, which we believed to be the star Bellatrix, must have had more than one ring. How else had the Macros appeared at our Venus ring with over a hundred ships? I’d gone through the Venus ring personally and seen the blue giant system on the other side. I hadn’t found another ring, but I’d only been there a short time. I was certain, however, there had not been over a hundred enemy cruisers in the system.
All logic pointed toward the conclusion the Macros were abandoning Eden. They were badly outnumbered against our fleet and the Worm fleet combined. I decided to continue pressing onward, to drive the machines as far as I could. Not everyone in my command staff agreed with this decision.
The very first relayed message I received from Earth was from Crow. It was impossible via our system to have a real conversation. All we could do was transmit a recording of our voices over the vast distances, in each case relayed via the ships I’d posted for this very duty at each of the rings. Each ship caught the message, flew through the ring to the next system in the chain and relayed the message to the next ship waiting at the next ring. Even at the speed of light, the distance between the rings required hours of transmission time to cross each star system. When I finally did get something from Crow, it was about two days old. I played it privately in my helmet while sitting in a command chair in the destroyer.
“Riggs? This is Admiral Jack Crow, the supreme commander of all Star Force Fleet operations…”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes, but kept listening.
“…I’ve received and reviewed Commodore Decker’s report concerning your engagements with the enemy. I want to say right off mate, I’m impressed. I’m not sure how you made friends with those slimy Worm bastards, but I guess it turned out for the best. You’ve managed to drive the Macros from two systems, and as I understand it now, you are pushing across a third system.
“But Riggs, I want to caution you. There is no way you can continue your string of victories forever. You are the conquering hero now, but you must halt your rampage and consolidate our gains. We’ve conquered four systems now, including our own. That should be enough. We can’t even defend them all, and I don’t want you to keep fighting until you lose all my ships and leave Earth defenseless. Crow out.”
I frowned fiercely, not liking the message. I didn’t bother to listen to it a second time. I deleted it in fact, purging it from my system. I sat there, thinking hard. The crew around me tossed me frequent glances, but I maintained my stony silence. I had a decision to make.
Crow had a point. I knew in some ways he was right. Logically, I couldn’t go on forever. If I jumped again through the next ring, none of us knew what we would encounter. A hundred more cruisers, or a million more mines could be waiting for us. It could be the end of our fleet.
The other side of the argument was the one I couldn’t get out of my head. I wanted to destroy every Macro I’d encountered. I didn’t want any of them to escape. After a string of victories, I found myself wanting more. I realized I’d begun to have fantasies of ending this war right now, of pushing the enemy to the ends of the universe and destroying them all.
A beeping began in my helmet. I glanced at the readout. It was Commodore Decker. I let out a growling breath. I knew without a doubt he had received a message from Crow as well. At this point, the system worked like email with voice attachments. There was no central control, no easy way to find out what anyone else with an account was hearing. I had dark thoughts as the beeping continued. Perhaps in future updates, this system should become more centralized and controlled.
I opened the channel at last. “What is it, Commodore?”
“Riggs? Why are we still following the enemy?”
“Because I plan to destroy every Macro I see, Decker. That is my mission.”
There was a pause. “Have you gotten any messages, Colonel?”
“From who?”
“From Star Force.”
I closed my eyes and bit back a stream of curses. Crow had sent him a message. From the sound of it, he’d told Decker what he was telling me, that we should cease and desist.
“I heard what Crow had to say, Decker,” I told him. “I was not impressed.”
“Colonel,” Decker began, but then his voice shifted. He paused, as if uncertain. “I understand, Riggs. I understand how you feel, and how you think. We have them on the run. The enemy that had eluded us for so long.”
I opened my eyes. “Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly. I’ve got them, and I don’t want to let them get away now.”
“You are an excellent tactician, Riggs,” Decker continued. “But this is a strategic decision. You need to elevate your thinking. Contemplate the bigger picture, that’s all I ask. Commodore Decker out.”
I did think about it. It was impossible not to. We’d chased the Macros out of our home system, and pushed them back from three more. Was that enough? Was it time now to lick our wounds, to rebuild and plan our next move? It would be a great waste to lose these systems. What if the Centaurs could help us by building their own fleet, given the time? We could work on better communications with the Worms, and let them rebuild as well. Star Force was no longer in this alone. We were leading a coalition of sorts.
“Sir?” the helmsman asked a half hour later. “We are coming to a decision point. Are we going to head straight on toward the ring or are we going to start decelerating? If we don’t start braking now, we’ll overshoot the target area even if we turn around and apply full power.”
I grunted unhappily. Every eye in the cabin sought mine, then looked away.
“Keep going,” I said at last. “We’ll chase these machines out of the Eden system. I don’t want them to have a moment of peace. I don’t want them to even think they’ve escaped us.”
Glum and determined, the crew turned back to their boards and relayed my instructions. We flew onward. A few hours later, the enemy fleet formed a tight formation and disappeared through the ring. It was at that very moment a message came in from the Worm ships. I contacted Marvin, who came to the bridge.
Marvin had given himself yet another makeover. I forced a smile when I saw him. He was truly horrifying to look upon now, all wires and struts and random pieces of equipment. He had somehow formed himself into a hulking humanoid shape however, as I’d suggested. The most disconcerting thing about him was the whipping arms. There were seven of them, all of varied lengths. He moved via these snake-like independent tentacles, slithering over the hull of the ship. At any given point, four of the tentacles reached out and grasped walls and chair backs around him, presumably for support. The entire ungainly mess didn’t look very well balanced. A dozen camera eyes poked out of his body-mass at odd points such as the lower knee-joints and two from one shoulder. Every camera simultaneously moved and tracked something different.
The overall effect was very disconcerting for a human observer. The helmsman made an odd whooping sound, as if he’d swallowed his own tongue, when the robot loomed near. I had to admit, Marvin was a monstrosity. Wisps of vapor escaped his misshapen body when he moved, and I could tell he was still freezing-cold from the depths of space. I felt him chill the air as he passed by my chair.