Yerusha upended a pair of empty crates. “I’m sure going to try.”
The Pasadena waited quiet and empty around Al Shei. There had been a lot of noise for a short time as the crew had packed up their possessions and headed for the airlock. Even through her cabin hatch, she’d been able to hear some of the grumbling voices and the pounding footsteps. But no one had come to her to question or protest.
She wondered vaguely what Schyler had told them all.
She brushed the thought aside. She didn’t have space in her head for it. She turned back to the generic module schematic that glowed on her wall where she usually displayed the plans for the Mirror of Fate. This would give her the probable layout for Curran’s headquarters. She had to go over her plan again, and again. She had to be sure it would work, that she hadn’t left anything out.
A chime from her desk startled her. She glanced at the memory board reflexively. Schyler, it said, was waiting outside the hatch.
She touched the key beside the hatch, resetting the entrance light from red to green. The hatch cycled back and Schyler stepped in from the silent corridor.
“It’s just you and me now, Mother,” he said.
“Not quite.” Resit stepped over the threshold before the hatch started to close. She clutched Incili’s case in her right hand.
Resit set the AI on the corner of the desk. “Well, I got what you wanted.” She unfolded the chair and sat down. “But we’re going to wish we had Lipinski around to implement it.”
“I’ll manage,” said Al Shei. “I still know a few security tricks from when I was working shuttles.”
“I’m sure,” Resit’s tone was acid. “Now, under this lawyer-client privilege that you’re playing so freely with, would you mind telling me what you intend to do with this information?”
Al Shei touched the case lightly with her fingertips. “I intend to blow that can away from the station,” she said, looking up at her cousin and her oldest son. “And I intend to be inside when it goes.”
Verence dashed back into the module network, calling for Curran as she flew. He surged up out of a side path and she had to pull up short to avoid colliding with him.
“How much longer?” he asked immediately.
“An hour, maybe two.” She shrugged her whole self. “Even if we deploy everyone, and there’s still at least ten critical junctures unconverted.”
Curran didn’t even stir. “Then we’ll have to leave them. We’ll need five talents in the flesh and on watch in case the Pasadena crew attempts to assault the module.” He had already vetoed the idea of taking out the station. That would raise the alarm for the outlying Humans even earlier than necessary.
“The banks know about us,” he had said in the briefing. “But they’ll have been told the attack is going to be against their intersystem network.”
The Human’s communications were being monitored. They were moving in typical glacial fashion, unable to agree on even basic measures to meet the threat. The bankers hadn’t even alerted the Management Union yet. Gilbereth estimated it would be six hours before they made even their first move. The attack would be well underway by then. There was an unusual amount of recording activity starting around the Free Homes. The Pasadena’s pilot must have gotten to the Fellows after all. Had the original plan been in place, it might have been cause for concern, but now it was nothing worth worrying about.
“What about module network security?” asked Verence.
“No need,” said Curran. “When Dobbs returns with the Guild, they’ll be going straight for the crucial points of the bank network. Preservation of the status quo will be their main objective.” His tone was wintery. “Just like it’s always been.”
Verence shuddered. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t just send Shiff and Tombe after her,” she said. “They could have brought her back here and held her until she saw sense again.”
“No.” Curran’s tone was firm. “It’s gone to far for that. When we attack, the Guild will come with Dobbs or without her. We will just have to delay them until things on Earth are well underway.”
Uncertainty wavered against anger inside Verence. She had been furious at Dobbs for her betrayal, but, what if… what if… ”What if Dobbs is right? What if this won’t work?”
Curran let his convictions flow into her. Verence felt strength and certainty wash through her. She drank it down into her private mind. She needed it to drown out Dobbs’ fractured, defiant words that would not stop ringing around her memory.
We will do what we have to in order to be free, Curran told her. If this doesn’t convince the Humans they must deal with us as their equals, we’ll try again.
He pulled away gently. “Now, I need you to find Flemming and Dunkirk. Together we can go over those last ten critical junctures. Maybe there’s still something we can do.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Verence hurried down the path. For the first time in a long time wished she were inside a body. Then she could have gone to sleep and, for at least a little while, she could have stopped thinking about everything Dobbs had said to her.
Yerusha heard the scrape of the storage door opening. Lipinski jerked his head up. The white light fell on Schyler, who’s eyebrows arched when he saw Lipinski sitting there.
“It’s all right, Watch.” Yerusha waved Schyler inside. “He’s with us.”
“There don’t seem to be a lot of options,” said Lipinski to the floor. “I just hope somebody really does have a plan.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “At least this explains… things”
Yerusha spared him a little sympathy. The entire crew knew that the Houston was cherishing some romantic feelings towards the Fool. Finding out that she was the monster he was afraid of… when he had time to think about it, it would probably tear him in two.
Schyler settled himself on a third storage crate. “Well, Resit got one wish anyway. She wanted you here to help, Lipinski.”
“What’s the news?” Yerusha asked.
Schyler rested both elbows on his knees. “Al Shei has gotten a bunch of security data from Marcus Tully. She wants to use that and Tully’s catburglars to disable the station alarms and then get herself into the AI’s can. As soon as she does, she wants the can knocked away from the station.”
“She what!” exclaimed Lipinski.
Schyler didn’t even miss a beat. “It makes some sense. With the can in free fall, no transmissions can get in or out of it because the transmitters and receivers will be rolling around with the rest of the module and no one will be able to get a signal fix on them. That means a finite number of AIs in a limited space to deal with. Most of Curran’s, people, should be out busy with the IBN.”
Lipinski subsided. Yerusha smiled quietly. This was the kind of argument he could understand perfectly.
Schyler kept going. “I figure this’ll take a little space walk. We lay some charges on both of the clamps and blow them out. Harry’s licensed to sell explosives, so that just leaves us with the question of how we get onto the surface of the can without being seen by the security cameras.”
“We don’t,” Yerusha told him.
“What?” Schyler stared at her incredulously.
Yerusha sighed. “There will be cameras are trained on the module’s skin by the Landlords, and by the AIs. Trust me, if there is anything there that isn’t supposed to be, the cameras will spot it. Now, maybe we could crack the cameras’ systems and fake an image, but under these circumstances do we really want to rely on using the station network for anything we don’t absolutely have to?”
Schyler drank in what she said in silence. “Then what do we do?” he asked.