Joan Vinge - Heaven Chronicles

Wadie hooked a foot under a rail along the panel, steadying himself. “Betha, that was Djem Nakamore's half-brother, Raul, on the radio. He's a Hand of Harmony, an officer in their navy. A high-ranking officer. Let me talk to him. He probably knows what I did at Snows-of-Salvation, but we were friends, once.”

“Better wait, Abdhiamal,” Clewell said quietly. “We've got more company, sophisticated wideband.” He touched the panel and another segment of the screen brightened.

“Lije MacWong,” Wadie said; Betha saw the easy grace tighten out of his body.

“Captain Torgussen: If you're receiving this, you must realize that the Demarchy has pursued your ship. The distance-velocity gap between us is small enough now so that you can't outrun our missiles; do not attempt to leave Lansing space.” Behind MacWong's self-satisfied face Betha could see a control room half the size of the Ranger 's and a ship's officer in a sun-gold jacket. Farther back in the room she saw cameras trained on the screen, saw a cluster of demarchs, like bright painted wooden dolls—company representatives overseeing their interests. She saw Esrom Tiriki, felt her mouth tighten.

She signaled at Clewell to transmit. “I hear you, MacWong. And I'm impressed. Have you actually come all this way to destroy my ship? You can't take us now; all you can do is destroy us in passing.…” She hesitated. MacWong's startling blue eyes still stared blindly from the screen. She realized, chagrined, that even closing at eight hundred kilometers per second the Demarchy ships were still millions of kilometers away; light itself took half a minute to bridge the gap.

At last MacWong reacted, looked past her to Wadie. For an instant she saw apology and regret; another second, and she saw only triumph. “On the contrary. Captain Torgussen. We have no intention of destroyin' your starship—if you obey our instructions. Our ships will pass through your vicinity in about four thousand seconds. You have that much time to dismantle and deactivate your drive. If, by that time, you haven't satisfactorily proved that your ship will be immobilized till we return for it, you will be fired on and destroyed. The people want your ship intact. Captain, but if they can't have it, they don't intend to let it go to anybody else.”

Betha pushed back, her arms rigid against the panel. “Wadie … he's no fool after all.” The Ranger lay in the jaws of a trap; and each jaw was unaware of the other. When the jaws closed on her ship they would have to destroy each other too. She let go of the panel, forcing a smile. “Then I'm afraid you have a problem too, MacWong. We would have been gone before you arrived, except that someone else is already holding us here … Hand Nakamore, I'm sure you've been monitoring. Would you care to comment?” She waited, savoring the bitterness of useless satisfaction.

Clewell grunted. “The Ringers are transmitting video, not to be outdone.…” A new patch of screen brightened with a black-and-white image. The Ringer control room was small, the crew strapped down to padded couches crowded by equipment: an image from the earliest days of space travel. A thickset Belter in a helmet with the Discan rings for insignia sat nearest the camera, his face grim behind a stubble of beard. “This is Hand Nakamore of the Grand Harmony. My forces have seized the Outsider starship, and if it attempts to comply with your demands, we'll destroy it. We have several prewar fusion bombs in our possession. If you attempt to keep us from takin' that ship we'll do our damnedest to destroy you too.”

Betha glanced at Wadie, questioning.

“He could have the bombs; salvage from the war.” Wadie studied the embroidered whorls on his jacket front. “If he could maneuver into MacWong's path with them, he wouldn't have to be too accurate, even if it took the Demarchy crews a megasec to die of radiation poisoning. Things like this happened during the war, crews of dead men fighting their final battle. That's how we got three fusion craft intact.…” He raised his eyes. “Nakamore will never let the Demarchy take the Ranger , even if it means he has to die too.”

Betha saw the trace of consternation that betrayed MacWong at the sight of Nakamore; the obvious disbelief on the ruddy face of the ship's officer and on the face of Esrom Tiriki. She watched them change again to hatred and defiance, heard MacWong begin an angry response.

“And so we're all going to die, and so are they … and so is Heaven.” Her voice rose. “And for what? This is insane—”

“Don't you think they know that?” Wadie moved toward her, almost touched her again. “They know it as well as we do. But they're trapped here just like we are; all that's happened in the last two and a half gigasecs since the war, all the frustration and fear, has been leadin' down to this.… It had to end like this. Your own song says it—‘No one ever changed a world.’”

She drew away from him. “It's the people who have to be willing to change! It didn't have to end like this. If they could have seen that there was still a future … There could still be one now, but even you can't see it; you won't see it. You're right, death is what you want … Suicide is the ultimate selfishness, and I've never seen a people more ready to commit it.” She unstrapped, pushing up out of her seat and away from him, her breath catching at the punishment of sudden movement. “You deserve it. Damn you all!”

He caught her wrist. Furious, she felt Shadow Jack move out of her way, staring, as Wadie pulled her back to the screen. “MacWong, Raul, this is Abdhiamal. I want to talk to you.”

Nakamore acknowledged him and Betha thought she saw a smile; she waited, saw MacWong break off his speech: “Sorry, Abdhiamal. You're a dead man. You've got nothin' to say to the Demarchy.” MacWong glanced sideways, barely turning his head. Betha looked past him at Tiriki.

“We're all dead men unless you listen to me! Because of this ship, which you don't have any more right to than Nakamore does, or I do. For God's sake, MacWong, there were seven people on this ship, who came three light-years from another system to Heaven; and five of them are already dead because of it. And now you're goin' to destroy the rest of them, along with the best ships left to the Demarchy and the Rings? You're all that's left of Heaven Belt, and your own greed is ripping your guts out. You're killin' yourselves because you're scared to die. Taking the starship won't save Heaven, and it's goin' to finish you off instead, if you let it.

“But you don't have to let it happen.” He nodded at Betha waiting beside him, silent with surprise. “These people came to trade with us because they wanted a better life. And in spite of what we've done to them, they're still willin' to trade. There's a whole trade ring of worlds out there, holding each other up so that they never fall into the kind of trap we've put ourselves in. They can save us too. Heaven Belt can be all it ever was if we join them.” He waited, searching the screen for a response. “Let the starship leave Heaven, instead of destroyin' it. You'll accomplish the same goal but you'll have everything to gain and nothing to lose.”

“You always could convince Djem that cold was hot, Wadie.” Betha looked for mockery on Nakamore's face, was surprised when she didn't find it. “But this time you even make sense to me.… I don't want to destroy the starship or my own ships. If I could get out of this bind by lettin' the ship leave the system, I would. The way things have turned out, it'd be enough just to put the ship beyond everybody's reach.… And the point's not lost on me that the only reason we've got you now is that this woman, this Captain Torgussen, came back to Lansing as she said she would.” Nakamore found Betha's eyes, curiously respectful. “I think you would come back to help us too.”