“But the idea that it would take impact with a planet to stop something that small. How could that be?”
“How could something that small kill a whole Sphere system?” Sondra replied. “But it did. Look around you.”
“But that’s not proof—”
“Please! Please!” the Autocrat called out. “Come now, we have covered all this, and time is short. We can’t spend time going around and around in circles.”
And that was it. Good God, that was it. Sianna sat stock still, holding her breath, working it through. Yes. It would work. Right now, if they started this minute. Everything they needed had come together. It would not have been possible before the Terra Nova and the Autarch arrived, and it would be too late all too soon. But now. Now the tide was at its crest. It could be done.
She stopped listening to the conversation and grabbed Wally by the arm, digging her fingers deep in. “Wally,” she whispered, leaning in close to him. “Around in circles,” she said. “We can send it around in circles.”
Wally turned and looked at her, clearly puzzled. But then it clicked. She could see it in his eyes, the way his eyebrows twitched. “Yeah,” he whispered back. He thought for a minute, and then frowned. “At least I think we could. Maybe. There’s a lot we’d have to—”
“Mr. Sturgis. Miss Colette. Is there something you’d like to contribute to the discussion?” the Autocrat said, cutting into their private conversation in the classic, sarcastic tones of a pompous teacher chiding an unruly student.
Sianna looked up at him, and opened her mouth, but the words jammed up in her throat. Every trip to the principal’s office, every social and scholastic disaster of her childhood suddenly flashed through Sianna’s mind all over again. She swallowed hard and wished she could just slide under the table. It was absurd. She had a good idea—a wonderful idea. But the Autocrat’s sarcasm had her rooted to the spot, as helpless as a jacklighted deer in a hunter’s sights.
Fortunately, however, Wally wasn’t much for noticing sarcasm. He grinned and nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said. “I think we’ve got plenty.”
Thirty-two
Once Around
Hotspur:… I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pick this flower, safety.
Dianne Steiger turned and grinned at Sianna and Wally as they hustled through the accessway and came aboard. Marcia MacDougal and Larry Chao came through the hatch right behind them. “Welcome to the Terra Nova. Take a good look around,” she said.
Sianna nodded nervously. “It’s funny. I’d almost forgotten this was where we were going in the first place. I guess we finally got here,” she said. “Even if we aren’t going to stay long.”
“Let’s hope not,” said Gerald MacDougal. “We can’t afford any delays. Speaking of which—” He turned and slapped down an intercom panel. “This is the executive officer. All personnel and cargo now aboard. Cast off at will. All hands to maneuvering stations.”
Sianna followed the others out of the airlock complex, moving hand over hand through zero gee. They came to what was clearly a main passageway running the length of the ship and stopped.
Gerald turned toward Captain Steiger. “I might not see you again until it’s over,” he said. “Good luck.” He raised his hand and offered her a salute. Salutes had to be rare on this ship, after five years of day-to-day living. Much as Steiger and MacDougal were trying to pretend otherwise, this was a special occasion indeed.
Steiger returned the salute. “Wish I could join the party,” she said.
“Should have thought of that before you let them make you captain,” Gerald said, smiling.
“Guess so,” Steiger said, her face set and determined. “Good luck, Gerald.”
“Good luck, Captain.” MacDougal turned toward Sianna and the others. “All right then,” he said. “Let’s get going.”
The five of them—Gerald, Marcia, Larry, Wally, and Sianna— headed toward the aft end of the ship as Steiger went forward. Gerald MacDougal set a stiff pace, moving along on the handholds. Sianna had a bit of a time keeping up, and Wally, who was not exactly in the best of shape, was flat out of breath almost immediately. Too bad, Sianna thought. No time left to lose. Not if there was going to be a hope in hell of pulling this off.
MacDougal led them into the hangar bay, a huge compartment filled with landers that had been meant to touch down on whatever worlds Terra Nova found at the end of her voyage to Alpha Centauri. But today, the biggest craft was being put to a somewhat different use.
“We’ve hardly used any of the auxiliary craft in all this time,” MacDougal said. “Not much point, when the COREs would have smashed any lander that got near a planet.”
“Maybe that’s all about to change,” Sianna said. “If this works, and we make it—then we ought to have learned enough to call off the COREs.”
“And the ways shall be open to us,” Gerald said. “Maybe. We’re not there yet. Come on. We’re on that boat over there, the biggest lander we have.”
“What’s her name?” Larry asked.
A shadow crossed MacDougal’s face for a moment, but his voice was calm as he answered. “She used to be the Scott,” he said, “but we rechristened her this morning. Now she’s the Hijacker II.”
Wally was looking up at the lander, and hadn’t noticed MacDougal’s reaction. “Hijacker?” he asked. “Strange name.”
“I’ll explain some other time,” MacDougal said. “Come on, everyone else should already be on board. We’d better join them.”
Two hours later, the Terra Nova was well away from NaPurHab and, her main engines having fired, was heading down toward a low polar orbit of Solitude. Dianne Steiger watched the view from the exterior hull cameras as the outer doors of the hangar deck opened and the newly christened Hijacker II moved out into space.
It was a good name, a proper name, for a ship about to be dispatched on much the same mission as the first Hijacker— on a somewhat larger scale, of course, but even so.
The Terra Nova moved in on Solitude, closer than she had been to any planet in all the long, lonely years since she had boosted out of Earth orbit. This was her moment, her time. This was the day for which the Terra Nova and her crew would be remembered—if there were any left alive to remember.
The Hijacker II cleared the hangar, drifted away from the ship, and lit her engines. They were on their way.
Sondra Berghoff set the last of the controls. There. That should do it. She pushed a button to send the first-level wake-up command to the dormant ring that had once controlled the wormhole link to the Multisystem. Thank heavens this ring had been built—or bred—to accept straight radio signals. If it had only taken gravitic commands, they would have had a much tougher job on their hands.
She watched her sensor board, looking for signs that the signal had been received and accepted. It would take a few seconds for the signal to cross the distance to the ring, and for the ring to process the signal and respond.