His Majesty's Starship (27 page)

Strangely, Gilmore thought with pity of Surit Amijee, the gentle Hindu in command of
Shivaji
. He didn’t doubt that the NVN were breathing down his neck; had maybe taken over altogether. They were firing the torpedoes, they were planning the destruction of the ships that opposed them. Not Amijee. But this kind of thing could really strain a friendship.

And what was
Shivaji
’s battle AI doing now? What was going through its tiny little mind? And to think that it was on the same ship as his own software officer. Peter Kirton would work out a way to baffle it, no doubt-

“A ship is manoeuvring,” Arm Wild said. “
Great Zimbabwe
, I believe.” The ship above them was rotating to face down towards the planet and the alliance ships. Gilmore pictured the scene from its crew’s point of view: the entire length of
Algol
in front of them, unmissable.

“Ong, tell your crew to brace,” he said. “Expect-”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Gilmore,” Ong snapped.
Algol
had already started to turn towards the Southern African ship. “We’re-”

Great Zimbabwe
unleashed a burst of torpedoes, pumping them into
Algol
at a point blank range of a mile. It might as well have been a solid mass of metal:
Algol
shuddered visibly and some debris must have passed right through because her skin erupted on the far side, away from the impact.
Algol
was tumbling and thrusters spurted on her hull as her crew tried to get her under control.

A point on
Great Zimbabwe
’s prow glowed red, then white.

“Got her!” Ong shouted. “Sealed her tubes shut.”

Rule Four: keep your distance. “What’s your damage,
Algol
?” Gilmore said.

“Still assessing.” A pause. “Casualties.” Ong sounded strained. “At least twenty. Severe holing, majority of central compartments punctured. Fore and aft systems operating independently, connecting lines severed. Thanks for the advice to depressurise,
Ark Royal
, we’d have been torn apart if we’d had air, but this passive resistance thing is a mug’s game. We’ve got to take the fight to them-”

“No!” Gilmore insisted. “We’re the injured parties here, we mustn’t be seen to get aggressive-”

“Your ship hasn’t just been riddled by grapeshot! You haven’t just been rendered unfit for spaceflight and you haven’t just lost crew! If you’ve got a better plan, let’s hear it.”

“Um – newcomer, sir,” Nichol said cautiously. Radar showed another ship rising up from orbit, maintaining a safe distance from the others. The ease with which it attained its orbit, and the fact that it just stopped, a hundred miles away, showed it to be a Rustie, as if there could have been any doubt. The ship was too far away to be caught up in any of the fighting. “Come to watch, I suppose,” Nichol said bitterly. “Wonder how they feel about this?” Then he remembered. “Sorry, Arm Wild.”

“I understand,” Arm Wild said. “Believe me, they will not be enjoying watching this.”

“So why don’t your people step in and stop it, then?”

“I expect they have their reasons,” Gilmore said. The reply was automatic – he didn’t much feel like conversation with his juniors right now, and it wasn’t fair to dump guilt on Arm Wild – but despite himself it sparked off a new thought process. Why didn’t the Rusties step in? Because they had their reasons. Which were? Unknowable.

“They do,” Arm Wild said. “You do not at present pose a threat to us.”

“You mean, as long as we’re just chucking lumps at each other?” said Nichol.

“Precisely. You are in a sufficiently high orbit for it not to matter.”

“So when would it start mattering?” Nichol was beginning to sound desperate.

“Keep an eye on the enemy,” Gilmore said sharply, to snap the younger man out of what he sensed was a rising cycle of hysteria. Arm Wild still answered the question.

“We cannot become involved in your conflict, Lieutenant. You will have to judge for yourselves when it would start to matter.”

“Arm Wild,” Gilmore said, “I take it you put us in this high orbit for a reason?”

“Precisely the reason I have stated, Captain: so that any fighting between yourselves would not affect us.”

“What would I do in your place?” Gilmore wondered out loud. “I’m inviting a fleet of armed alien ships to take up position around my world, and I’m fairly certain they’re going to start squabbling ...”

Arm Wild simply looked at him, but Gilmore had the sudden notion that the Rustie was willing him towards a conclusion.

“Maybe,” he continued, “I’d declare a zone in orbit? Let their fighting confine itself to that, but if it extends beyond it-”

Yet another burst of grapeshot broke off the train of thought and again
Ark Royal
’s laser opened up. It was all happening so quickly, automatic laser was the only way-

He looked thoughtfully at
Shivaji
’s image. The Confederation ship’s laser would be connected to the battle AI – bound to be. No point in having two systems doing the same job in parallel, with one perhaps making its own innocent plans when the other depended on it to do something else.

Krishnamurthy’s people had taken great care not to offend the Rusties and so the battle AI would have been programmed with certain safeguards: for instance, if they had really wanted to eliminate the allies, a volley of fusion warheads would have done the trick. Just as with the grapeshot, some would have got through, and with the ships all grouped together so ... but no, nuclear explosions in orbit would certainly annoy the Rusties.

Gilmore looked again at
Shivaji
and grinned. “Mr Nichol,” he said, “stand by to plot a course and power up the main engine. Comms, get me the other captains.
Algol
, can you still manoeuvre? We need you facing
Shivaji
.”

*

The seconds were ticking by on the display over Gilmore’s desk and he knew the tense look on Nichol’s face exactly mirrored his own. Arm Wild stayed silent: the Rustie had neither confirmed nor denied that his tactic would work. Twelve fifty nine and 57 seconds, 58, 59-

At 01:00 exactly,
Algol
and
Enterprise
opened with their own torpedoes, sending a deluge of debris directly at
Shivaji
. At 01:00.01,
Ark Royal
’s fusion engine fired and weight came to the flight deck, pressing Gilmore, Nichol and Arm Wild into their couches as the ship accelerated in the torpedoes’ wake towards the Confederation vessel.

The lasers on
Shivaji
and
Pacifica
, both tuned to
Shivaji
’s battle AI, opened up on the first wave of the attack by reflex. A moment later, the AI noticed to its surprise that a five thousand ton spaceship was accelerating towards it in the shadow of the torpedoes. For a moment it considered targeting just the ship with the laser, but it knew that
Pacifica
’s laser alone could not deal with all the torpedoes and the attacking ship would still have most of its mass by the time it hit.
Shivaji
would sustain damage outside the recommended parameters.

Then it considered ordering both lasers to target the ship. That would leave the torpedoes unimpeded and again irreconcilable damage would occur.

With more time to spare it would have consulted a human, but it knew humans were achingly slow at making any decisions. And so it made one by itself and had acted accordingly before a horrified Muna Lahiri noticed and could countermand.

“They’ve fired!” Nichol said. The radar showed a single torpedo leaving
Shivaji
.

“Go!” Gilmore shouted.

The rumble of the engine turned to a roar and a massive, crushing weight descended upon them. Nichol bellowed as four gees piled on top of them and
Ark Royal
leapt forward.
Shivaji
loomed in the display and then the picture whitened out. They had moved too quickly to trigger the torpedo’s proximity detector and the battle AI had decided to laser them after all; this mad ship intent on colliding with them took priority over everything else.

But
Ark Royal
was not intent on colliding with
Shivaji
, just in coming damn close. Still Gilmore grit his teeth: I’ve left it too close we’re going to hit I’ve left it too close we’re going to hit-

There was a glimpse through the viewport of
Shivaji
’s skin as they shot by, metres away, and then
Ark Royal
was out the other side, heading rapidly out of orbit and into space. The engine cut off and the return of free fall was blissful.

Behind them, between
Shivaji
and the four remaining allied ships, there was a flash of brilliantly white light. The torpedo barrage still had to be dealt with and so the battle AI had chosen that as the secondary target.

“We did it!” Nichol yelled. “We did it!”

“We don’t know if it’s worked yet,” Gilmore said. “Get us back into orbit, while we still can. I’d hate to have to ask the Rusties for a tow.”

*

[Distress] <>

Iron Run studied the display carefully. [Interrogative] <>

[Affirmation]

[Interrogative] <>

<>

[Interrogative] <>

<>

Iron Run turned to its military advisor. [Interrogative] <>

<>

[Interrogative] <>

[Problematic]

[Decision] <>

*

Spar Mild and retinue strode into the Dome at quarter past one in the morning and demanded an audience of Krishnamurthy. The guard sent to fetch him disappeared into a side room and there was an angry shout in Hindi. Then more shouting, and finally Krishnamurthy came stalking out, his face furious.

“Iron Run says, there has been fighting in orbit,” said Spar Mild.

“There has,” said Krishnamurthy, “and with respect, I am in the middle of coord-”

“Iron Run’s orders are as follows,” said Spar Mild. “This matter has proceeded far enough and it is persuaded that you will be unable to settle things between yourselves safely. It perceives that nuclear weapons have been used in our orbit. This poses a clear hazard to us and their use will cease immediately. You will withdraw your troops from the surface of the Roving at once. Liberty will be reinstated forthwith to all humans in our system. The situation will return to its previous normalcy without delay.”

“Normal? Sir, please, there is a fight going on in orbit-”

“We are already taking the necessary measures,” Spar Mild said.

*

“There’s hundreds of them!” Nichol exclaimed.

An exaggeration, but there were still a lot of them – the shapes that the radar showed emerging from behind the Roving’s Big Moon easily outnumbered the human ships.

A warning tone came from the console and Nichol spun round to Gilmore.

“One of them’s locked onto us, sir!” he said, aggrieved.

“I don’t blame then,” Gilmore said wryly.

“I think you will find every ship has been targeted,” Arm Wild said. “It is only precautionary. I would strongly advise that you do not-”

There was a flash and
Long March
shuddered as though from a mighty blow. Ripples ran impossibly along its length and chunks of its skin broke away. The ship began to spin slowly, and then with another flash its entire midsection disintegrated into a million fragments. The bow and stern sections tumbled away from the scene.

There was a moment’s silence and then bedlam broke loose over the radio.

“Did you see that?”

“My god, just a flash and then-”

“Who was it? What was it? Did you see-”

“What a way to go! What a way to go!”

Gilmore and Nichol stared at the display.

“-do likewise,” Arm Wild finished.

A signal came through. “The First Breed require all human ships to cease hostilities immediately. We will enforce this command further if necessary, and if any other ship locks onto us, we will treat that too as a hostile act and respond accordingly. We will pick up survivors from the
Long March
. All human ships will power down their weapons and deactivate their targeting systems now.”

The battle fleet moved quickly through space with the easy grace common to Rustie vessels. Human ships making the same manoeuvre would have taken hours to traverse the distance from Big Moon to Roving orbit, and more to slow down and change approach trajectories. The Rustie ships just did it, and within minutes they were in among what was left of the delegation fleet, interlacing themselves with the human ships.

“It’s over!” Nichol exclaimed. “Sir, you did it!” His eyes shone as he looked over at his captain and even through the faceplate Gilmore, aghast, diagnosed the signs of incipient hero-worship. Gilmore groaned to himself.

“Captain Gilmore, I am sorry I was unable to help you much in your conflict,” Arm Wild said. “My rank was not especially of use to you. However, I think I now can now use my influence to contribute in a small way.”

*

Krishnamurthy’s eyes were on the display that showed the two fleets mingling. He had no doubt at all that the Rustie ships could wipe out
Shivaji
and the rest of them at a moment’s notice, just as
Long March
had been dealt with.

The delegate from the Northern Chinese Republic, pale, had already announced his withdrawal from Krishnamurthy’s plan. The gutless imbecile: it wasn’t his fault that his captain hadn’t had the brains to turn his targeting system off. Krishnamurthy felt no sorrow for the loss of
Long March
.