zero minutes. Our base velocity would be five-six-six-six-seven KPS. He'd be right here—about four-niner-five million klicks from Yeltsin and one-point-three billion klicks short of Grayson on his present track. Our vectors would merge two-point-three million klicks short of Grayson five-point-two-five hours after that. Of course, that assumes accelerations remain unchanged.'
Honor nodded at the qualification. If anything in this universe was certain, it was that
'And if we go around Yeltsin on a straight reciprocal of his course?'
'Just a second, Ma'am.' DuMorne crunched more numbers, and a second possible vector appeared on his display. 'Going at him that way, he'd pick us up approximately one-point-five billion klicks out of Grayson orbit in two-five-zero minutes. Closing velocity would be one-four-one-four-niner-seven KPS, and vectors would intercept four-eight minutes after detection.'
'Thank you.' Honor folded her hands and walked across to her command chair while she contemplated her options.
The one thing she absolutely couldn't do was sit here and let the enemy come at her. With that much time to build her velocity advantage,
To prevent that, Honor could meet her head-on by simply reversing the battlecruiser's course.
Alternatively, Honor could shape her own, tighter parabola inside
The drawback was that it
In essence, her choices were to go for a short, sharp closing engagement and hope she got lucky and
Of course, she did have one major advantage, and she smiled hungrily at the thought, for it was the same one
She played with her projected course briefly, varying DuMorne's numbers on her command chair maneuvering repeater, then sighed. If
And when she came right down to it, she couldn't risk the head-on interception, either. If that ship was irrational enough to press an attack now, then she had to assume its captain truly was crazy enough to nuke Grayson. That meant she couldn't engage hoping for a lucky hit when her failure to get it would let
She leaned back, rubbing the numb side of her face for a moment, and considered the way
But the point was that if she presented a cautious captain with a situation in which his only options were a fight to the death short of the planet or to break off, especially if she did it in a way which proved she'd been watching him when he'd believed it was impossible, he might just flinch. And if she got him to break away to rethink, it would use up hours of time ... and every hour he spent dithering would bring the relief from Manticore one hour closer.
Of course, it was also possible he might decide he'd given sneakiness his best shot and do what
She closed her good eye, the living side of her face calm and still, and made her decision.
'Com, get me Admiral Matthews.'
'Aye, aye, Ma'am.'
Matthews looked anxious on Honor's screen, for
'Good afternoon, Sir.' Honor formed her words with care, making herself sound cool and confident, as the rules of the game required.
'Captain,' Matthews replied.
'I'm taking
She paused, and Matthews nodded, but she could see his mind working behind his eyes and knew he didn't believe it was only a probe, either.
'In the meantime,' she went on after a moment, 'there's always the chance Masada has more of its own hyper-capable ships left than we think, so
'Understood, Captain,' Matthews said quietly, and Honor heard the unspoken addition. If
Might.
'We'll be on our way, then, Sir. Good luck.'
'And to you, Captain Harrington. Go with God and our prayers.'
Honor nodded and cut the circuit, then looked at DuMorne.
'Update your first course for the helm and get us under way, Steve,' she said quietly.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
'Sir, we're picking up another of those gravity pulses.'
'Where?' Sword of the Faithful Simonds leaned over his tactical officer's shoulder, and Lieutenant Ash pointed at a blur on his display.
'There, Sir.' Ash made painstaking adjustments, then shrugged. 'It was only a single pulse this time. I don't know ... it
'Um.' Simonds grunted acknowledgment and resumed his restless prowl. He knew he should be sitting in