"I do not believe that either Captain would be so bloody-minded, especially after losing their Admiral and knowing they would be going against the direct orders of Parliament." But even as she spoke the words, Harald noticed that firing upon the Fleet vessels had reduced abruptly.
"I have to wonder if you are prepared to bet the lives of hundreds of thousands of Combine citizens on what you believe," said Harald. "Though you should be aware that the Captains of those ships will shortly be losing the ability to refuse such an action."
"You are a cold bastard," said Gleer, her face turning as grey as her hair. Harald felt that he had correctly guessed her current location as being on one of the two threatened stations.
"Sentiment tends to cost more lives than it saves." Harald gave her another false smile. "But I see that Combine stations are already ceasing to fire upon us." He nodded. "That being the case, I will restrain my vessels from firing on the passenger liner you have sent to intercept Stormfollower"
"So generous of you," Gleer sneered bitterly.
Sudden anger surged in Harald. "Though I am always prepared to change my mind," he spat. "I'm speaking to you like this because I want to prevent unnecessary killing. Should I decide to close down this link right now, then, at my convenience, one of your stations will cease to exist. Please let me know if you are unclear about any of this?"
Rishinda Gleer glared back at him. "I am not in the least unclear. We have reached a predictable impasse. If either side makes use of gravity disruptor weapons, the results will light Sudoria's sky with falling debris for some time to come. Now, you were saying about Stormfollower…"
Harald stared at her irritably as he fought against the impulse to simply shut down communication. Finally, he managed to get himself under control.
"Yes, my calculations indicate it would be possible for your liner to hard-dock with Stormfollower and divert it back out into space. That should take approximately five hours. I will meanwhile not fire upon either ship, since I have nothing to gain from doing so."
"So, simply on a whim you set that ship on a course to destruction, and now equally on a whim you wish to save it. How am I supposed to trust you?"
"I must leave that to you."
"Very well, I will now relay instructions to the Captain of the Freesky. So what else, Admiral Harald?"
Harald grimaced on learning the name of the civilian liner.
"What else, indeed," he replied. "Why clearly Orbital Combine must now publicly declare its surrender to Fleet."
"That is not going to happen," she snapped.
"Then, for now, this conversation is at an end."
Harald shut down the link, then after a moment opened a link to Desert Wind.
"Franorl, close on Corisanthe Main and begin your assault."
Next he opened communications with Wildfire and Harvester, and shortly Captains Soderstrom and Ashanti were gazing at him from a divided screen. On another screen he eyed the progress of the programs he had initiated earlier. With satisfaction he saw that they had penetrated the two ships and were functioning precisely as intended: seizing control of their systems and putting online the hardware concealed aboard both vessels some months previously.
"It seems my Captains are showing a degree of reserve about employing gravity-disruptor weapons," he challenged them.
The two Captains managed to display a reasonable facsimile of puzzlement, but Harald was not convinced. He saw Ashanti glance to one side, as if someone nearby had addressed him, but the screen microphone aboard Wildfire did not pick up what was said. However, the man's sudden reaction of quickly suppressed rage told Harald all he needed to know.
"With our assault on Combine reaching such a critical juncture," Harald continued, "I cannot countenance any hesitation, and I certainly cannot risk either of you disobeying my orders."
"I would never disobey you, sir," Soderstrom protested.
"We have given you our total trust," said Ashanti, "and you cannot give us yours?"
His head throbbing severely, Harald wanted to shout at them, but he continued, "As you will by now realise, I have taken control of some of your ships' systems. They will hold their current positions, with their gravity disruptors directed towards the main targets. Should you attempt to move them out of position without my express permission, your main drives and steering thrusters will shut down."
"This is madness!" Soderstrom snarled. "You mean we'll need to get your permission to move our own ships if we come under attack?"
"There will be no attacks you cannot deal with from your current location, and I've allowed you to retain control of all your conventional weapons and defences."
"Allowed?" said Ashanti.
"Yes, allowed—though I now control the firing of your gravity disruptors." Both Captains seemed to have nothing to say about that, so Harald went on. "Look at it this way: should we fail in our objective, should we lose this battle, you as individuals cannot be held to account for any destruction those weapons may meanwhile cause."
"We became culpable the moment we ignored Parliament," said Ashanti.
"Whatever." Harald waved that away. "I cannot afford to gamble Fleet's future on the whims of individual Captains."
"Just the whim of one Admiral, then," Ashanti replied.
Harald shut down the communication.
McCrooger
The lift's direction of acceleration changed abruptly, and had me staggering to one side, where I braced myself during another abrupt change. Then it decelerated and grav disappeared. Becoming weightless, I grabbed a nearby handle. The lift opened onto a chamber in which the glints of light, here and there, were certainly not provided for illumination. Nevertheless a swirling metallic glow gave me enough light to see by. After a moment I started having trouble breathing and my lungs felt leaden. At first I thought this was just one of my own problems, then I remembered how the Ozark Cylinders were filled with inert gas surrounding the canister in which the Worm fragment was held. I closed up my mask, and the discomfort slowly faded as the suit automatically oxygenated. Pushing myself out of the lift, I peered into the shadows and eventually spied what must surely be my destination—the source of that weird glow—and I launched myself down towards it.
What exactly is 'alien'? There are so many living worlds in the Polity that burgeon with alien life, but once you begin to familiarise yourself with that life, how much the word applies becomes only a matter of degree. After a while it ceases to be alien and becomes just a matter of taxonomy. You can understand it, how it functions, how it came to be, where it fits in its local ecology.
But this was alien. This was gazing at something unfathomable while your mind struggled to fit it into a mould, to define it, categorise it, to remove it from that part of the consciousness that is still a primate screaming at the dark. I clung to the worn knurling of the framework positioned before the diamond pane and gazed at something I just could not encompass—and never really wished to. Then I raised my gun to point it at the damned thing and, bracing myself for the recoil, pulled the trigger back and held it there. So I would die in the process—I felt near enough to that state already for it not to matter to me.
The gun fired with oiled precision, considering all it had been through, and emptied a clip of about ten bullets into the diamond. I then opened up my containment suit and pulled out another ammunition clip. Were those hair-fine cracks appearing before me? It was difficult to tell with that swirling otherness behind. I discarded the first clip, watched it float away from me, and found my mind drifting similarly. I loaded the second clip and fired again, trying to hit exactly the same point at the centre of the circular diamond window. Definitely some damage evident now: sparkling diamond fragments gyring away, angel dust glittering in the air—and a crack. I had begun to empty the third clip when my world turned inside out. I could see one of the bullets travelling balletically slow. Chunks of diamond folded out, and a stream of something like mercury, in which it seemed segmented worms and insectile skeletons were submerged, licked out into the inert atmosphere. Then I was hurtling backwards, tumbling through the air as madness flowed out and around me. I could hear klaxons screeching, but their noise seemed so prosaic and worldly that they meant almost nothing to me. Then the floor slammed up against me, the canister came crashing down nearby, and other equipment rained down in a deadly tangle. Snakes of cables submerged me, and I think it was those that saved me as some massive device crashed down on top. I belatedly realised that the Ozark Cylinder had been ejected from the station; the initial acceleration bringing me and all the rest of this paraphernalia tumbling down. The other thing, now coiling and swirling above me, had seemingly been affected not at all.