Jack McDevitt - A Talent for War

"That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago."

"A few minutes ago I didn’t think we had a choice."

My mouth had gone dry, but I tried to sound calm. "I don’t agree, Chase. They want this ship, and as long as we stay in it, I think we’re safe. They can’t board, and they won’t destroy it."

"Why not? If all they want is to keep us from getting back home with it, they can blow us up any time they please."

"Then why haven’t they already done so?"

"Maybe because they don’t want to kill anyone if they don’t have to."

"You believe that?"

"Damn it, Alex, I don’t know."

"Okay," I was out of the command seat now, rattling around the bridge, trying to think. "If you’re right, then why did they attack the Centaur? They had no compunctions about our lives. They wanted to keep us from getting on board because then they’d have to talk us out."

"Maybe you’re right," she said angrily. "I just don’t know. But I don’t want to get killed over it."

"Then we stay right where we are. How much time before the Armstrongs activate?"

"There are no Armstrongs," she said, desperately.

"Come on, Chase," I said. "How much time before whatever we’ve got activates? Before we can jump into hyper?"

There were tears in her eyes. "About a half day. You think you can stall them that long?"

"I think it’s our best chance." I took her by the shoulders, and hung on to her. "You with me?"

She looked at me a long time. "You’re going to get us both killed," she said.

"I regret that you feel compelled to pursue a course that can only result in bloodshed." S’Kalian did indeed appear upset. "Is there nothing I can say to dissuade you?"

"The hell with you," I said. "You’re going to have to blow up your artifact. So go ahead and do it!" I broke the link.

"You were persuasive," Chase said, glumly. "I hope he doesn’t take you up on it."

The mute drifted closer. The slow oscillation of its component parts accelerated. "Best analysis," said the computer, "suggests everything we can see is part of an energy deployment system."

Chase swore softly. "Where’s the operational center? Where are they vulnerable?"

"At present, insufficient information is available to draw conclusions."

"Your guess is as good as his," I said.

"I think it’s time to put up the shields."

"No," I said.

"Why not?"

"We don’t gain anything by it. We can’t run, and we can’t fight. The shields would only delay the inevitable. Let’s try to keep a surprise available." Something had been bothering me about my conversation with S’Kalian, and I suddenly realized what it was. "Why were they being so nice to us?" I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Why did they want to wait for us to go over there before they dispatched a boarding party?"

Chase shook her head. "I still think maybe they’re telling the truth."

"No," I said. "I’ll tell you what it is: they don’t trust us. We’re bushwhackers in their eyes, and they want us where they can keep an eye on us. That means they think we can do them some damage. How?"

Chase’s eyes closed briefly, and then she nodded. "I can give you a good guess. Their boarding party: they have to lower their screens to pass them through. For a few seconds, they’d be vulnerable."

I felt a simultaneous rush of elation and fear. "They don’t trust us," I repeated. And I found myself thinking about Sim’s chessboard. "Maybe we can turn it to our advantage."

"Go ahead," Chase said. "I’m open for ideas."

"I need you to go back and get two of the pressure suits. Put them inside the capsule, and inflate them. Try to make them look like us. And rig the capsule so we can operate it from here."

"Why? What good will that do?"

"I’m not sure how much time we have, Chase. Just do it. Okay? Let me know when it’s ready, and then get back here."

"All right," she said, getting up, and extending her hand. "And by the way, if I don’t see you again, it’s been a hell of a ride, Alex."

There was a catch beneath the flippancy, but she left quickly. In the general silence of the ship, I could follow her progress back through the hatches.

"Movement," said the computer. "Something’s happening."

The ovoid dance of the alien vessel changed its pattern, and its colors deepened. It glowed fiercely in the eternal dark, its tiny lights swirling. Luminous insects in the mouth of a cannon. It went on for several minutes.

"Psychology," I told the computer. "They’re playing mind games with us."

"I’m not sure what that means. But I detect a familiar metal shape within the configuration. Plasma missile launcher, probably. Eight tubes. This type weapon is intended for use against a relatively stationary target. High velocity projectile designed to penetrate thick armor, and burn out interior. Analysis indicates that only one of the tubes contains a weapon."

Hell. "What," I asked, barely able to speak, suddenly aware that I didn’t know how to put the shield up if I wanted to, "will be the effect on Corsarius?"

"How much energy to defensive screens?"

"None."

"Total destruction."

I thought about calling Chase, to warn her, to get her back. But I let it go. What the hell.

I could hear her banging around in the after section. A red lamp lit up on the status board. Outside hatch open.

"They’ve locked on," said the computer.

I squeezed my eyes shut and waited.

"Missile away."

In that final moment, what I thought about was that we had not fired a single shot in our own defense.

The thing blasted through our metal skin and set off a windstorm below decks. The klaxons let go again, and all the rest of the ship’s systems that warn of immediate and serious danger. But we were still alive!

"What the hell’s going on up there?" demanded Chase, with the mild echo that indicated she was inside a pressure suit.

"They just fired on us. You okay?"

"Yeah. You think maybe it’s time now to put up the shield?" She sounded shaky.

"Are you finished yet?"

"Almost. But maybe we ought to evict the dummies, and you and me get in there and clear out."

"Get back here quick," I said. "Computer, damage report. How come we’re still on the premises?"

"The missile did not detonate. I don’t know why, unless it was an empty shell. Impossible to be certain, since it passed completely through the ship."

"Where’d it hit?"

"The compartment directly below the bridge. We will require repairs on both bulkheads as soon as you can get a damage control crew down there. In the meantime, I’ve sealed the area off."

S’Kalian’s voice again: "Alex: there is still time." He held out his arms in a gesture of appeal.

"You are a son of a bitch," I said quietly.

"I admire your restraint, under the circumstances. Please understand: we can punch holes in your vessel, and I believe we can do it without damaging critical systems. Now, what further demonstration do you need of my concern for your welfare? Get out of there, while you can. Your death, and that of your, uh, woman, will accomplish nothing."

Chase opened the rear hatch and came in. "Ready to go," she whispered.

The computer broke the link with the enemy ship. "Captain," it said, "another missile has been loaded."

"If you’ve got an idea," said Chase, "this is the time."

"Computer, get the mute back."

S’Kalian’s image reappeared. "I hope you have made the wise decision," he said.

"I don’t think you’re going to like it much." I paused for effect, and tried to look moderately demented. "I’m going to arm one of the nukes and I’m going to sit here and blow the Corsarius to hell."

"I don’t believe you."

"Believe what you want."