“But the information conveyed is identical.” Irony was lost on the new and improved Bruno, apparently.
“Never mind,” Carol sighed. “Thank you for obliging me. Can you give me battle status?”
“Of course. The holoscreens provide the raw data, but I can certainly provide you with vocal summaries.”
“Please do so, love.”
Did she detect a pause in response to her last word? Another hypospray nozzle snaked out of Bruno's crash couch and injected his neck with a hiss.
He blinked twice, then continued in his artificially human-sounding voice.
“One of the kzin vessels is spiraling in toward me, inflicting serious damage to my sensory pods and ancillary equipment. The other spacecraft is accelerating heavily on an unusual vector.”
Worry sent a thrill along her spine. “Wait a second. The word 'ancillary' worries me. Other damage?”
“None. There has been no attempt to damage the antimatter drive or structures associated with it. Only the sensory arrays and weapons ports have been targeted.”
She frowned. “So your hunch was correct?”
“Yes. They intend to board me, if they can.”
Me? Carol kept her face under careful control. Several times, Bruno had referred to Sun-Tzu as himself.
The 'we' he kept using: Did he mean the two of them, or the strange electronic mind controlling him?
“And the other ship?” she asked, biting her lip.
“Difficult to predict at this time. The strategies of space vessels capable of two hundred gravity accelerations are still new to us.”
“Show me the vector, with realtime updating, please.”
Bruno didn't reply, but the holoscreen showed the more distant kzin ship accelerating rapidly on a curving course that would narrowly graze Sun-Tzu. Something about the diagram nagged Carol.
“And the closer ratcat ship?” she continued, biting her lip.
“The pilot is quite good for a biological system. We have been spending a good deal of processing time on predicting its behavior. Clearly, they could be doing more damage than they are accomplishing at present.”
A low warning tone filled the navigation deck.
“Carol, there is a problem.” Bruno's voice once more came from speakers instead of his throat. “The closer kzin spacecraft is now vectoring wildly, firing all weapons. There is significant damage…”
Sun-Tzu rang like a great bell. An unseen hand slammed her into her couch.
“High-yield thermonuclear device detonation off starboard bow,” Bruno reported. “Seventy-five percent of sensory pods were destroyed in that hull sector.”
“I gathered as much, thank you,” Carol replied acidly. She bared her teeth at the feeling of helplessness, her fingers itching to do something. The holoscreens showed the action from repeater stations across the icy hull of the spacecraft. The kzin vessel was delivering a flurry of weapons against Sun-Tzu, inflicting serious damage.
Sun-Tzu turned to compensate for lost sensory arrays and weapon emplacements. Carol felt her hastily eaten midmeal rise, bitter in her throat.
Another flock of nuclear-pumped X-ray lasers rose against the kzin vessel, which had already maneuvered away. Blasts of coherent radiation again found no target.
“I am sorry, Carol,” Bruno's voice said flatly from the commlink speakers, drained of all emotion. “We are experiencing processor difficulties due to network interruption.”
The kzin attack had severed some of Bruno's computational net. Carol suddenly wondered if he felt that loss as pain.
A thought blazed in her mind.
“Bruno! What about the other ship?”
A pause.
“I am very sorry,” the commlink speakers said in something like her lover's voice. “We were blind on that side for almost twenty seconds before I was able to regain sensory data.”
“And?”
“The kzin vessel will reach closest approach to Sun-Tzu in a few seconds. It has fired no weapons, however. Perhaps it is trying to draw fire in order to allow the other vessel to inflict greater damage.”
Carol's jaw dropped with a blaze of realization. Couldn't Bruno's vastly enhanced intelligence see what was happening?
She reached over and grabbed Bruno's arm. “Listen, love, focus as much sensory capacity as you can spare on the close approach craft. Put some weapons against it, throw up debris, anything.”
The flat half-machine tones took on a questioning note.
“Why are you so specifically concerned?”
Carol wanted to slam her fists down on the useless command console. “Don't you get it?” she grated. “It's a bombing run. Do as I tell you!”
By then, it was too late. The kzin craft, under cover of its fiercely attacking sister vessel, swept stealthily within a million kilometers of Sun-Tzu. It had already swung past them by the time energy weapons flashed lethal radiation. Relativistic distortions fuzzed the images further—
— And almost as an afterthought, a coherent lance of X-rays speared the enemy craft, spreading a glowing cloud of debris across space. The second vessel had already sheered off, racing for the opposite side of Sun-Tzu.
A blaze of light filled the holoscreen.
“Bruno?” Carol asked quietly. “What happened?”
Another slight pause, and Bruno once more spoke from his own lips instead of the commlink speakers.
“I am very sorry, Carol. The kzin have delivered a monopole bomb. It must have been heavily shielded to avoid my sensory array.”
Carol swore. In the deadly heart of a monopole bomb, isolated north and south poles met violently, releasing great gouts of energetic electrons. These electrons would spiral, close to light-speed, down magnetic lines of force toward Sun-Tzu.
When the electron storm struck Sun-Tzu's densest magnetic cocoon, the electrons would radiate powerfully, their orbits reversed in the magnetic mirrors. They would never reach the icy hull of Sun-Tzu, but they would have done their deadly task. Their electromagnetic wail would fry most electrical equipment not shielded deep within the spacecraft. The other kzin vessel would be safe in the 'shadow' of Sun-Tzu.
Bruno still said nothing.
Carol began striking keys on her crash couch console violently. The straps loosened and retracted, allowing her to float slightly upward in the microgravity.
“How long until impact?” she asked.
“Ten seconds.” The reply was as flat and toneless as the autopilot of an aircar.
“Well, let's get you and me down to Dolittle. I have an idea.”
“Impossible.”
In a flash, she realized that disconnecting Bruno from his brain-computer interface would take several minutes, with heavy use of biotelemetric controls. And, fatally, that unshielded and vulnerable conductors ran from the hull of Sun-Tzu to the sensory array to the computer net… directly into Bruno's brain.
“I love you, Bruno,” Carol said. She grabbed his interface cable in both hands and took a deep breath.
CHAPTER NINE
Watching Carol's arm muscles tense as she gripped the interface cable, all of Bruno's vast consciousness tried to crowd into his inadequate biological portion in defense against what would happen next. Bruno's enhanced mind would not fit into the small space, wracking him in a horrible cybernetic analog of pain. No. He willed his arm to move toward his cable linkage protectively, and…
Carol, with a loud grunt, ripped his interface cable from the console with a sharp metallic popping sound.