Torchship (36 page)

“No idea. Could just be trying to scatter the AI forces as
widely as they can.”

After a bit more profitless brooding over the plotting table
they returned to their couches and profitlessly brooded there.

The left-behind fighter mentioned that he was receiving comm
traffic, did the ship want a relay? “Yes!” demanded Mitchie.

Housefly 17 was talking. “Prepare to execute charlie romeo
on my mark. . . . Execute!”

“They’re reforming,” reported Eyes. “Disk normal to our
vector.”

“Then we’ll punch through. Close-in on me, max thrust.”

“Got one!” yelled Jimbo’s tormentor.

“Stay in formation. Cover your sector,” said the commander.

Eyes: “They’re splitting. Looks like they’re going for a
globe.”

“Vector plus-Z.”

“Watch for smart gravel.”

“Two more down.”

“Disperse! Reform at mike zulu.” Housefly 17 again.

“Lost Oscar.”

“Bogey down.”

“Back me up, Perks.”

“Sphere is breaking up,” warned Eyes.

“Lovey, help Perks.”

“Lovey is gone.”

“Mug, help—never mind. All to mike zulu.”

“More evasive action, dammit. What are you saving your fuel
for?” That was Jimbo.

“Ball on mike zulu. Take a sector and watch it,” said
Housefly 17.

“Mug, tighter in,” ordered Jimbo.

“Here they come!” said someone not Eyes. She hadn’t heard Eyes’
voice lately.

“Focus minus X.”

“Long bursts, dammit,” said Jimbo. “Ammo in the hopper ain’t
doing you any good.”

“Got one!”

“That’s right, keep shooting, you might get lucky.”

“Where’s Mug?”

“Lost him and Jax.”

“Full thrust, aim for the densest group, scatter them.”
Jimbo was giving the orders now.

“Watch plus Z.”

“Got another.”

“Damn all you mechanical bastards.”

“Look left!”

When the channel had been silent a minute the newbie came
on. “
Fives Full
, this is Ensign Greer, I mean Housefly 28. I am assuming
command of the convoy.”

“Acknowledged, Housefly 28.
Fives Full
is continuing
on convoy vector as directed.” Mitchie switched off her mike and turned to the
captain. “Want to run to Ossa? I could plume this guy and then we’d be free to
pick our own course.”

“Attack a human ship? What the hell are you thinking?”
snarled Schwartzenberger.

“It’s the Demeter Fleet. Call it a down payment for nuking
Noisy Water.”

“He didn’t do that.”

“He would have if he’d been in that ship.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re not going to attack him. And we’re
not going to Ossa. We’re going to stay on course and hope the Navy has a plan.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

The frigid silence on the bridge was interrupted by the
radio. “Okay, uh, Housefly 28 to
Fives Full
. Good news, the swarm is
back in formation but it lost a lot of momentum in the engagement. So it’s at
least five hours from overtaking us. More if they want to match velocity.”

“Thank you, Housefly 28,” said Mitchie calmly to the man she’d
offered to kill.

“Um, the bad news is another swarm is vectoring on us. A
bigger one. It’ll catch us about the same time.”

“Ain’t we popular,” replied Mitchie. The ensign stayed
silent.

Mitchie did a position sight. They were a tiny bit off the
course they’d been given. Odd that the Navy hadn’t demanded a correction. Well,
if they were a diversion it didn’t matter where they went.

The frequency scanner suddenly showed a spike. Captain
Schwartzenberger tuned into the new signal. “Steelhome Control to all stations.
Our turret array is heavily damaged. Landers are coming in. Disregard all
future messages from this location. Make the Betrayers pay. Steelhome out.”

Schwartzenberger cursed.

“Should we tell the refugees?” asked Mitchie.

“No. They’ve only got four hours left, why make them more
miserable?”

***

The intercom crackled. “What’s the latest reading?” asked
Guo.

“They’ll overtake us in two hours,” answered Mitchie. “Assuming
they don’t slow to board.”

“Damn. Anything from the Navy?”

“I’ve been watching that rendezvous point they ordered us to
and don’t see anything waiting for us.”

A brief silence. “I’m glad we had this time together.”

“Me, too. Any regrets?”

Guo answered immediately. “Not moving faster with you. Do
you have any regrets?”

She thought a moment. “Not telling you yes.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. The reasons don’t matter now.”

He laughed. “Michigan Long, will you marry me?”

“Over the
intercom
? Yes, I will.”

“Great! Captain Schwartzenberger?”

The captain had been pretending to not overhear the
conversation. Now he activated his mike. “Yes?”

“Sir, would you be willing to perform a wedding on board?”

“Yes, if everyone’s consenting.” He looked at Mitchie. She
nodded, but her expression was slipping from cheerful to wary.

“Okay, sir, I’ll get back to you when we’re ready,” said
Guo. The intercom went dead. Schwartzenberger contemplated pulling the plug on
his eager mechanic’s scheme. They probably should stay at their posts in case
something changed. But they’d spent the last hour just watching everything
smoothly march toward inevitable disaster. Taking a short break likely wouldn’t
make any difference. He pulled the
Captain’s Bible
out from its elastic
restraints and started reading through the ceremony.

Abdul came up to the bridge. Bing had tagged him to cover
bridge watch. Mitchie gave him a quick brief on how comm with the Navy worked.

It was fifteen minutes until the intercom squawked again,
this time with Bing. “Okay, we’re ready. Come on down to the hold.”

“On our way,” said Mitchie. She was down the ladder first
but Schwartzenberger had no trouble catching up to her in the corridor.

“Hold up.” He leaned down to look her in the eye. “Let’s
talk about this a moment.”

“Sir?”

“Do you want to do this?”

“Sure. You heard me tell him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to make sure of. Do you love him?”
asked the captain.

“Yes, very much,” said Mitchie.

“Do you want to marry him?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If he’s holding anything over you, threat, bribe, whatever,
to make you do this, you don’t have to go through with it. Talk to me, or talk
to Bing, and we can figure out a way to fix it.”

“No, sir. It’s nothing like that. Come on, they’re waiting
for us.” She led the way down the cargo hold ladder.

Guo had press-ganged Billy into setting up an improvised
altar for the wedding. The cargo was all stacked against the back of the hold.
Bing had herded the refugees into staying clear. Now they all gathered in to
see the bride who’d provoked this sudden ceremony. A middle-aged woman stepped
out of the crowd to address her. “Miss Long?”

“Yes?”

“We thought a bride should have a bouquet.” The refugee held
out a bunch of colorful flowers.

Mitchie was almost too startled to take it—who grabbed
flowers during an evacuation? As she held it she realized the flowers were
fabric, folded and stitched into flower shapes. A blue one caught her eye. She
looked to the woman’s matching dress, then down to her hem where a ragged notch
had been cut. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.” She gave the refugee a
one-armed hug as her eyes misted up.

Bing steered Mitchie to the improvised altar. Guo waited
there, beaming. Billy stood behind him, nervously patting his pants pocket. The
captain rested his bible on the altar and looked out at the crowd. The
flower-makers and other romantics were up front, basking in this sign of hope.
The confused and indifferent milled behind them. Leaning against the bulkheads
and containers were the cynical. Their expressions made it clear they thought
taking time out for personal business was proof the crew could do nothing to
increase their odds of survival above zero. Not having any disagreement with
them, Schwartzenberger opened the bible to his bookmark and began. “Dearly
beloved . . . ”

He kept the ritual to the bare bones. In a few minutes he asked,
“Guo Kwan, will you take Michigan to be your wife, to live together in
matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor her, and keep her, in sickness
and in health, for richer and for poorer, as long as you both shall live?” His
throat tightened on the last phrase.

“I will,” he said.

“Michigan Long, will you take Guo to be your husband, to
live together in matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor him, and keep
him, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, as long as you both
shall live?”

“I will,” she said.

The captain waved at Billy, who produced the ring and handed
it to Guo. He slid it smoothly onto her finger. “How’d you get my size?” she
whispered.

“I maintain your spacesuit.”

The captain gave them a shhhh and launched into the closing
prayers. “I now proclaim you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!” The
refugees cheered, even the bulkhead-proppers. Once they came up for air
Schwartzenberger muttered, “You’ve had the honeymoon already. Back to work now,
everyone.”

A low chorus of “yes, sirs” answered him. Mitchie paused to
toss the bouquet at a cluster of teenage girls. She went up the ladder without
looking to see who caught it.

***

Fives Full
fled blind through space. Looking back at
her pursuers would give up precious seconds of her lead. But Housefly 28
regularly turned around to measure the distance so there was no need. As
Mitchie listened to his latest report she thought she’d like less information. “About
a quarter of the swarm has dropped behind. The way they’re spread out I think
they’ll be the rear half of a globe. The leading edge will overtake us in
forty-five minutes.” So the same status as ten minutes ago.

She didn’t mind someone nervously over-analyzing. It was
inflicting it all on her that made her lose patience with the newbie. The
captain was obsessively trying to pick up voice transmissions from around the
system. He didn’t bother her with his inferences from them.

Some were obvious. A civilian vessel pleading to be let
through Demeter’s orbital defenses and being directed to land on an arctic
island meant the real battle hadn’t started. “I have to wonder if this is it,”
said Mitchie. “Are the AIs going to start taking human worlds again?”

“I can’t see it,” replied Schwartzenberger. “They’ve always
had the resources to do it. Could’ve happened a century ago. This is just a
probe, collecting data or something. Bigger than usual.”

“Or something? What else would they want?”

“Could just be a game to them. We don’t know what they
really want. Probably couldn’t understand it if they told us.”

“A
game?
All this is a game?”

“Look. Last time I was on Akiak, there was this
defective—dunno what was wrong with him, bad gengineering maybe—who made his
living sweeping out the spacer’s hall. Some of the deckhands were having fun
with him. Held out a couple of ten gram coins, silver and copper, and asked
which one he wanted.

“Defective said, ‘Ooh! Can I have the pretty gold one
please?’ The spacers laughed and gave him the copper.

“So I found him taking out the trash and told him, ‘Hey,
that coin is copper, not gold.’ He bonked me on the head and said, ‘Shhh! If
they find out I know they stop playing the game.’” Schwartzenberger chuckled. “So
the AIs can’t take Demeter. They wouldn’t be able to play the game anymore.”

Mitchie contemplated her captain’s view. “That makes us the
copper piece?”

“Well . . .”

“Sir, please don’t try to cheer me up any more.” She looked
at the strange new ring on her finger. At least
she’d
been able to make
someone happy in his last hours.

Housefly 28 reported the swarm was thirty-three minutes
away.

***

At fifteen minutes to doom Housefly 28’s ever more frequent
updates were drowned out by a wave of static. “Is somebody setting off nukes?”
asked Captain Schwartzenberger.

“No, doesn’t sound like it,” said Mitchie. “Probably active
jamming. Guess the swarm doesn’t want our last words getting out.”
Schwartzenberger raised an eyebrow at her. Mitchie ignored it and fired up the
radar.

Its display was strange. The screen was covered with snow
while the space ahead of
Fives Full
was filled with fuzzy objects.
Mitchie picked one of the larger fuzzies and focused the beam on it. The return
was larger and fuzzier. Someone jammed their pings. She hastily shut down the
radar.

“Sir, I think I figured out why the Navy wanted us here.”
She felt a surge of anger as she realized how they’d been used.

“Ambush,” said Captain Schwartzenberger. “With over a
hundred women and children as bait. Wouldn’t let us run for cover, wouldn’t let
us go someplace defended, just dragged us out here in the most
attention-getting way possible. May God pass true judgment on the Fusion Navy.”

The jamming went silent. A new voice came on the radio. “Task
Force Ajax to Merchant Vessel
Fives Full
. You are released from convoy
and authorized for independent maneuver. Recommend evasive action and a hasty
departure. Good luck. Ajax out.”

“Acknowledged, Ajax.” Mitchie turned off her mike before she
could let any other words slip out. The jamming came back on. She lowered the
volume.

The space in front of them began filling with plumes as
dozens of warships lit off their torches.

The captain activated the PA. “Attention everyone. Hang on
tight. Strap yourself in if you can. The Navy has arrived and we’re going to
have a bumpy ride.” He switched it off and snarled, “Get us the hell out of
here before the shooting starts.”