The surrender of the Affronter fleet of Culture craft has been effected without conflict; the ROU Killing Time — aided by the other regular Culture warships in the volume — has taken charge of the vessels. It would appear that the craft from the ship store at Pittance are personally blameless and have been the victims of an act of treacherous espionage.
Nine Affronter military officers have also surrendered; their commanding officer took his own life. I include a roster of their names and ranks (list attached).
Should the Affront now sue for peace, I propose that I and therefore my war fleet be placed at the disposal of authorities considered acceptable to all concerned. I and the fleet under my command will not be used to prosecute any further hostilities against the Affront or anybody else.
Any other suggested uses will be evaluated on their merits.
Otherwise it is my intention — in the fullness of time — to dismantle the craft I have constructed and go into a retreat.
I attach a signal file received from the LSV Serious Callers Only (signal file attached).
I also attach records of the confirmatory signals used by the Attitude Adjuster to convince vessels from the ship store at Pittance that they were being mobilised by the Culture as a whole. These have been passed to me by each of the craft concerned (signal files attached).
The implication that the ships from Pittance have been used as part of a conspiracy to trick the Affront into a war has been noted. I imagine that the ships/Minds named in the aforesaid files and those others also concerned in the matter will each wish to make a full explication of their motives, thoughts and actions concerning this alleged stratagem and take any further steps honour dictates.
The Mind of the LSV Not Invented Here has taken its own life.
Given the apparent at least partial entrapment of the Affront in this matter, further action against them of a punitive nature might seem to be both excessive and dishonourable. Please note that a copy of this signal, slightly edited for signal-operational methodology and stripped of codes and ciphers, has been sent to the Affront High Command and Senate as well as to the following news services (list attached) and the Galactic General Council.
Regarding the Excession itself, I have the following to report:
— Be seeing you.
— What? Where are you going? the Sleeper Service sent as the Grey Area shot past it.
— Here; Churt Lyne wants to jump ship.
The Grey Area Displaced the ancient drone into the Sleeper Service.
The giant GSV had finally come to a halt, not far from the thirty-light-year limit the Fate Amenable To Change had discovered and the Excession had, seemingly, set.
The GSV's war fleet was still deployed, set out in a year's-radius hemisphere throughout the skein while the Affronter's fleet of tricked Culture craft gathered together and opened their armament and armour systems to the scrutiny and control of the Killing Time and its comrades. The Affronter officers were transferred aboard the Killing Time still in their space suits while the GSV What Is The Answer And Why? quickly readied secure accommodation for them.
— Come back!
The Grey Area was too far away.
[tight beam, M8, tra. @4.28.891.7393]
xGSV Sleeper Service
oGCU Grey Area
Come back! What are you doing? Are you trying to ruin everything?
oo
[wide beam, Marain clear, tra. @4.28.891.7393+] xGCU Grey Area
oGSV Sleeper Service
It's all right. Goodbye and farewell.
— What's it up to? the GSV asked the drone Churt Lyne, hovering in the minibay it had been Displaced to.
— I really don't know, the drone replied. ~ It wouldn't tell me. But I think it was in communication with the Excession.
— Communication…
The Sleeper briefly considered trying to stop the smaller craft. The GCU was heading out past it for the thirty-light-year limit, straight towards the Excession and still accelerating.
The GSV decided to let it go. Its engines would fail… about now.
Fail they did, but just before they stopped working the Grey Area carried out a bizarre course manoeuvre, angling its run so that it was falling towards the energy grid; it would coast without power down to the grid and be destroyed.
Madness, thought the Sleeper, but was too far away to do anything.
[tight beam, M8, tra. @4.28.891.7394-] xGSV Sleeper Service
oGCU Grey Area
What has happened? Why are you doing this? Has your integrity been compromised?
oo
[wide beam, Mclear, tra. @4.28.891.7394]
xGCU Grey Area
oGSV Sleeper Service
No! I'm fine!
The Sleeper didn't have time for another signal. The Grey Area dived into the energy grid, flickered once and then vanished far, far below in a tiny scintillating flare of radiations.
The GSV inspected the resulting shell of energies. It certainly looked like destruction. The Sleeper studied that final flicker the GCU had given just before it had encountered the grid. It still looked like it had been destroyed, but there was just a hint…
A human would have shaken her or his head.
When the Sleeper returned its attention to the Excession, it had gone. There was nothing present on the skein of real space, and no sign of even the merest disturbance on either of the energy grids.
No! thought the Sleeper Service, experiencing a terrible sense of frustration. No! Damn you! Don't just go, not without some sort of reason, some explanation, some rationale…
A few seconds later, the GCU Fate Amenable To Change, as the nearest available craft, was persuaded that it might try approaching the Excession's last known position. When it did so and passed over the thirty-light-year limit, its engines worked normally and continued to do so all the way in. However, it refused to go any further than the original closest-approach limit it had set itself, over a month earlier.
The Killing Time was more than happy to oblige; it raced in at maximum acceleration and at the very last moment instituted a crash stop, finally coming shuddering to rest exactly where the Excession had been. It reported, disappointedly, that there was absolutely nothing to be seen. perched on the parapet at the girl's side now, looking gloomily out at the troubled waves of the sea.
XIV
Ulver Seich sat on the parapet of the tower, swinging her legs. From the roof, it looked like you could see out over an ocean in one direction and a landscape of sea marsh, water meadow and cliffs in the other. It was perfectly convincing but it was just a projection; the bird had tried flying out in a spiral and only got a couple of metres out from the tower's edge before one of its wings had encountered the solid boundary of the screen field. It was perched on the parapet at the girl's side now, looking gloomily out at the troubled waves of the sea.
"Bugger," Ulver said, half to herself. "It's gone." She kept a watch on developments outside through her neural lace while she looked down at the bird. "The Excession," she told it. "It's just disappeared."