Freddy's fingers behind her ear teased Glenda Ruth awake.
The smaller pup was clinging to his back, a tiny skewed head above his left shoulder, wearing the generic smile; but Freddy looked quite solemn. Glenda Ruth followed his pointing finger to a screen and... what? Display of a broken kaleidoscope? Numbers indicated that she was looking aft, under one-hundred-power magnification, via Freddy's telescope.
"We're decelerating. Whole fleet. To that," Freddy said.
A shattered mirror on star-dusted black... mirrors, lots of mirrors, circles and ribbons and scraps and one great triangle. The mirrors weren't rotating, but some of what they illuminated was, on an eccentric axis. Sunlight off the mirrors set it to glowing like the City of God.
"Schizophrenia City," Jennifer said.
Glenda Ruth winced. "Pandemonium," she said. John Milton's capital of Hell. If this was Captor Fleet's home base, they were indeed mad.
Pandemonium was backlit, showing mostly black, but she could see the lack of pattern. There were blocks and spires and tubes, considerable fine structure, very spread out. As an artistic whole... it wasn't whole.
Jennifer said, "Cities do grow this way, if there's no street plan. But in space? That's dangerous."
"Dangerous," her pup said emphatically. Freddy's pup peeked out of his arms and nodded wisely.
Glenda Ruth called, "Victoria?"
"Something's happening," Terry Kakumi said.
Light flashed here, there. A chunk of Pandemonium City broke free, 6 percent or 8 percent of the whole; rotated to use its section of mirror as a shield, and pulled away. Ruby light sputtered at it, belatedly.
"Civil war, maybe. Maybe a lifeboat running away from us. I don't think they see Captor Fleet as friends."
"Yeah, Terry. Maybe it's how Motie cities breed? But whose city? Victoria?" No answer came. Glenda Ruth said, "Likely she's asleep." Moties needed their sleep, or at least Mediators did.
Terry said, "We've been decelerating for two hours now. Matching velocities. Glenda Ruth, we have to see this-" Terry's arm flashed up to block her eyes. A ruby glare filled the cabin. An instant later all screens were black.
"Langston Field," Terry said. "Ours. Don't think that place has one. Sorry. Are you okay?"
Freddy said, "Hell, we're under attack!"
"But by what?" Jennifer asked.
"Good question.'
When nothing further happened, Terry presently cut bricks of basic protocarb for their breakfast. They watched the screen, but it remained dark.
Victoria emerged from the airlock. The Mediator skimmed along one of the big vines, picking red berries, then veered to join them. She asked, "Do you take chocolate for breakfast?"
Glenda Ruth spoke before Terry Kakumi could. "Sure. Freddy? Make it lukewarm, then we can heat ours. Victoria, does your Engineer say it's safe?"
"Yes."
Terry couldn't stand it. "We're pulling near a large structure. Is it your home?"
A moment's pause, then Victoria said, "No. Chocolate?"
Freddy didn't move until Glenda Ruth opened the cocoa and pushed it into his hands. No, he couldn't read minds, but she made eye contact and thought hard: Yes, Freddy, Victoria's trying to distract us, yes, she's hiding something, Freddy love, but we want the lizard-raping chocolate!
Freddy set to work, meticulously measuring powder, shaking it with boiled water, adding the basic protocarb product most crew called milk. He poured it into squeezers and handed one, lukewarm, to the Mediator. The others he set heating in the microwave.
Victoria sipped without waiting. Her eyes widened. "Strange. Good." She sipped again. "Good."
"This is the least of what the Empire can offer. More to the point is the meeting of unlike minds. And elbow space."
Terry's patience was short. "The city?"
"It's resources, Terry," Victoria said. "We will take them."
"Uh-huh. We want to observe the battle on-site," Terry Kakumi said. "If-"
"Not a battle, Terry. Pest control. No Master in there, no Mediators, not even Engineers."
"What are they, then? They're shooting at us."
"Watchmakers and... I don't know your word. Only animals. Destructive small animals, dangerous when cornered. Use resources we need."
"Vermin," Glenda Ruth said.
"Thank you. Vermin. Yes, they're shooting, but we can protect ourselves. What is it you want?"
"I want to go in with you, with a camera." Terry took the bulb Glenda Ruth handed him, but didn't drink. She sipped the chocolate: a bit too hot, and that was good. Heat would kill what her fingertip had added to the cocoa powder.
"You would see our weapons in use. I know your nature, Terry Kakumi. Warrior-Engineer, as close as your generalist species comes. But able to talk well."
Freddy suppressed a smile; but Terry showed his teeth. "You wouldn't use your serious weapons for varmint control, Victoria. Whatever it is that has you so embarrassed, it's something we have to know. Later would be worse. Nasty surprises breed nasty surprises."
The screen cleared. Pandemonium glowed before its mirrors. Cerberus's Watchmakers had pushed a probe through the Field.
Victoria sipped, and thought, and said, "I will ask Ozma."
Merlin nested in the forepart of the cabin. He was young, with clean white fur you ached to touch; he had never been female. He spent much of his time watching the humans and-if Glenda Ruth was indeed learning some basic captor language, if she'd correctly judged his body language-discussing them with Victoria, the Doctor, the Engineers, the Warriors. Masters asked questions and gave orders. They did not seem inclined to needless conversation, even with other Masters. But they did talk.
Ozma, an older and clearly superior Master to Merlin (parent?), lived somewhere out of sight beyond Cerberus's big new airlock. Thence Victoria went. An hour later, the spidery Messenger scuttled through and summoned Merlin from his place in the forecabin.
Terry Kakumi slept curled in his couch like an egg in an egg cup. Glenda Ruth watched for dreams to chase themselves across his round features, but really, he was remarkably relaxed for a man who was about to enter mystery.
"He does that better than anyone I know," Freddy said. "If he knows nothing is going to happen for twenty minutes, he's out like a light. I guess that's what they mean by old campaigner."
"You think it's a warrior's skill?"
"It never would have occurred to me before. Sauron, heh?"
The chaotic industrial complex was considerably closer now. Its shape had changed, had closed around the gap left by the one departing section, which was still in view a few kilometers away, under desultory thrust. There was motion on the surface, a doubly silent rustling: windows glinting (not many), small vehicles racing along wire tracks, mirrors rippling as they swung to block a laser spear, a sudden spray of... missiles? Tiny ships?
Sporadic ruby beams bathed Cerberus with no effect. Just once the entire mirror-sail complex focused white light with enough energy that the cameras had to be pulled in. Several minutes later the screen was glowing with just a touch of red heat. More minutes later the probe was out again, and Pandemonium showed almost unchanged.
"They ran out of power," Jennifer surmised. "What do you suppose is in there? Watchmakers and what?"
"Maybe nothing we know about," Glenda Ruth said. "Watchmakers alone might have built this. You saw Renner's recording: they ran riot through MacArthur and finally turned it into something alien."
A tube poked from near the center of the structure, and extended, longer and longer. Like a cannon. "Grab something," Jennifer said, and reached to tighten Terry's straps. His eyes opened; with a shrug he freed his arms and folded Jennifer into his chest.
The screen went dark. In the airlock Merlin snapped some command; every Motie form snatched for handholds. Cerberus torqued about them. In the screen was a red glow...orange, yellow...holding.