Roger Allen - The Shattered Sphere

“No, we don’t go for it now—but eventually, yes. It says here they expect to start reading message traffic off it soon. They hope to be able to decode them against their existing Charonian language sets. If we could find the command for ‘don’t smash incoming ships,’ we could go there.” Gerald shrugged. “Maybe we can’t do it now, but it is a goal we can set our sights on.”

“You’re ahead of Bernhardt on that one,” Dianne said, sitting up on the couch. “Even he doesn’t make that suggestion. In fact, there’s not any of the usual ‘suggestions’ in that message.”

The Terra Nova was, of course, nominally under Bernhardt’s personal control, in his capacity as head of the DSL. But Dianne had made it clear from the outset that her ship was too precious an asset to be trifled with. It was the only ship in deep space that Earth had or was likely to have. The TN was the only means Earth had of operating outside the cordon set up by the COREs. Dianne had made it clear quite some time ago that the TN would not be exposed to needless risk. Dianne was determined to refuse any order she regarded as too dangerous.

What with the harebrained ideas that Bernhardt had been forced to pass along over the years, pretty much all of the orders from Earth involved undue risk. Bernhardt knew that as well as Dianne did, and so he almost always sent “requests” or “advisories” instead of commands, thus keeping the Earthside powers-that-be happy while providing Dianne with an out. That was one good thing about commanding a ship in deep space—no committees of second-guessers looking over your shoulder.

But no vague requests on the resupply signal. No code words to keep Bernhardt’s “advisers” happy. Dianne suddenly realized what that meant. “Give me that message again for a second,” she said, standing up. Gerald handed over the printout, and she checked it again. Yes, she had it right. He had sent it just a few hours after first hearing of this Colette person’s theory—and after working hours in New York. And there was something a bit Teutonic about the phrasing, come to think of it.

“You know,” Dianne said, “I think old Wolf Bernhardt drafted this himself, and sent it after hours. On the rush. Plus there’s nothing about ‘acting upon the advice of experts in the field’ or anything like that. He didn’t consult with the usual advisory teams.”

“Maybe he wanted to get it to us fast,” Gerald said.

“And I can guess his reason for it. This,” she said, waving the printout, “is all the excuse I need to cancel the Highwayman .”

“I won’t pretend to be disappointed,” Gerald said.

“But you were bound and determined to go,” Dianne said, perching on one corner of her desk.

“If anyone was going to go. The Highwayman would have been destroyed the same way as Hijacker . I couldn’t have asked anyone else to go.”

“So in spite of all your brave words to the contrary, you thought it was a suicide mission.”

“We both know it was a desperation mission,” he said. “It was the only hope we had of accomplishing anything. But suddenly we’re not desperate anymore.”

“The voice of optimism,” Dianne said. “But there’s bad news too.” She took a second printout off her desk and handed it to Gerald. “That’s a somewhat more official message. It more or less confirms all those SCORE things are headed for Earth space. MRI definitely thinks what we think: it’s a Breeding Binge.”

“My God,” Gerald said. He took the second printout, and looked at it without reading it.

“Yeah,” Dianne said. She crossed the room and lay back down on her couch. “Not good. Bernhardt isn’t sure they’ll be able to fight them off. He’s sending supplies to NaPurHab, for us and for them. Another temptation to break off our next attempt on the CORE.”

“Hmmmm. Beat us with the stick and tempt us with the carrot. Not too subtle. And neither are the orders.” Gerald read out loud from the second printout. “ ‘In light of this new and important information, you are ordered to break off contact with the CORE, return to near-Earth space and prepare to rendezvous with NaPurHab.’ ”

“Well, what do you think?” Dianne asked.

“I think it’s been a long time since Bernhardt gave us a direct order,” Gerald replied.

“That’s because it’s been a longer time since we obeyed a direct order. Maybe that’s a hint that he really wants us to do it this time.”

“Sounds like you think we ought to comply,” Gerald said.

Dianne propped herself up on her elbows and looked to Gerald, nodding thoughtfully. “Sounds like I do,” she agreed.

“There’s one other thing,” Gerald said. “One I don’t like much. Maybe we should send back a request that they send us some people.”

“People?” Dianne asked.

“Experts,” Gerald said. “We’ve got some good techs on board here—but if we ever do go for the Lone World, I’d like some of the real experts with us.”

“How would they get here?”

“On the cargo flights to NaPurHab. We’d collect them the same time as the cargo.”

“Do you have any idea how risky a flight that is?”

Gerald nodded, his eyes on the floor. “Yes I do,” he said. “But if there is a Breeding Binge on the way, the risks in staying home aren’t much lower. We may never get another chance for new personnel again. And a few of the people who tracked down this Lone World might make all the difference later on.”

“What’s your latest estimate on how bad a Breeding Binge could be?” Dianne asked.

“If Earth manages to kill off the first wave and the Charonians give up after that, maybe about as bad as a small nuclear war. If the Charonians don’t give up, maybe the collapse of civilization,” Gerald said. “Maybe a mass extinction.”

Dianne did not speak for a moment. There was nothing that could be said to that. But Gerald might be right about having some of those experts on board. If Earth fell, and the Terra Nova had to fight on alone, Dianne would want all the expertise she could get.

“All right,” she said. “Send in that request, and sign both our names to it. Then start passing boost orders. Start to secure for main-engine firing, and compute the standard spread of possible course options. Calculate minimum time, minimum fuel, and intermediates, and bring me the results in six hours. Eight hours until boost.”

Gerald nodded. He stood there a moment, as if he were trying to think of something to say himself. But he left it to a simple “Yes ma’am.”

He turned and left, closing the hatch behind him.

Captain Dianne Steiger shut her eyes and rolled over on her side. Sleep. If the ship was going to get under way in a few hours, she needed to get some sleep. She really ought to get off the couch and get into bed.

But underneath her calm, underneath her exhaustion, there was something more.

There in the fear, mixed in with the horror of the news, with the terrible thought of a Breeding Binge, there was a thrill of excitement as well.

At last , she thought. At last.

The call to arms had come.

“If you look into the background of how the Abduction happened, it is at least possible it could have been avoided altogether, if a senior scientist had been willing to listen to a subordinate.”

The Sunstar was high in the east as Sianna stepped into Bernhardt’s office. Normally, Sianna was not that aware of the sun’s position when she was in an office, but then most offices had opaque walls.