Fire With Fire

waved awkwardly to each other, instead.

As Trevor helped Riordan into the corridor, Opal turned quickly to Downing. “I thought-”

“Orders change, Major Patrone. But in this case, the change is only temporary. Don’t worry: Caine will be well guarded.”

It was obvious from Opal’s shiny, angry eyes, that her official duty to protect Caine was not the primary source of her distress.

Not at all.

ODYSSEUS

Trevor was the last to enter the podlike compartment in the same Dornaani ship that had fetched them from Earth, and Caine noticed a box under his arm. Seeing the look, Trevor explained: “Elena caught up with me and gave me this, along with the strangest-”

Alnduul’s voice seemed to emanate from every surface in the chamber. “Please settle yourselves comfortably.” The section of the pod they were facing-it seemed wrong to think of it as a bulkhead, somehow-slid aside, revealing the local starfield. “Forgive the malfunction, but your chamber seems to be defaulting into the external display mode. It is not safe to delay our departure long enough to correct it, but if the external view bothers you, we could easily-”

“No, no,” Downing interrupted, “this is fine.” And indeed it was: given the choice between looking at a blank wall or observing the operation of an exosapient starship, no intelligence officer would ever choose the former. And besides, Caine could tell that Downing wasn’t buying Alnduul’s excuse any more than he was: this wasn’t a malfunction; it was a gift.

Trevor was looking around the peripheries of the featureless seats for straps, buckles, restraints. “Uh, Alnduul,” he asked, “just how many gees of acceleration will we experien-?”

“Do not trouble yourself, Commander Corcoran. Just settle back. We are about to begin our journey.”

Caine exchanged glances with the other two, leaned back as he had been told, found himself wondering what their sleeping accommodations would be like, and if the food would be varied enough to-

The hull vibrated faintly and Caine felt the equivalent of mental palpitations-as though his consciousness was shuddering, teetering at the edge of blackness. The next instant, the sensation and vibration were past. Odd, he thought, what kind of preacceleration thrust system would-?

Then he looked out the gallery window and saw that the starfield had changed. Not slightly; entirely. And it was motionless.

It was Trevor who spoke first. “Did we just-?”

Then the Dornaani ship came about-the new star field wheeling slowly past-and revealed the murky sphere that was Barnard’s Star II’s roiling hydrogen-and-ammonia atmosphere.

Caine heard Downing release his caught breath, heard Trevor gulp-a constricted sound-and found he could not put two thoughts together. The implications of what he had seen-instantaneous travel over a distance of sixteen light-years-were still rushing in at him.

It was Trevor who spoke first. “Well,” he said hoarsely, “if Wasserman was here, he sure would feel better about our siding with the Dornaani.”

Caine nodded, spoke to the ceiling. “Alnduul?”

“Yes, Mr. Riordan?”

“That was most impressive.”

“We cannot do it often. It is very expensive and requires us to overhaul what you would call our shift drive.”

What we would call your shift drive? Meaning that it isn’t actually a shift drive? Hmmm…but for now: “Even with that limitation, I find it puzzling that the Custodians or the Dornaani Collective feel that any other power poses a threat to them. With a fleet of ships capable of a sixteen-light-year shift from a standing start, and able to make a pinpoint transit to within-” Caine glanced at the gas giant, assessed, guessed “-five planetary diameters of a world, I would expect you to be invincible.”

“Yes, one might readily infer that from our technological capabilities.”

But if such vastly superior technology was still not decisive, then-“So the vulnerability of the Dornaani does not arise from a deficiency in equipment, but will?”

“I am, of course, not allowed to respond to that conjecture directly. However, it is a most elegant hypothesis.”

“Elegant?” echoed Trevor. “Elegant how?”

Downing nodded. “It is elegant in that it resolves many apparent contradictions and also meshes with much of what we saw at the Convocation. The Dornaani do not lack power: they lack the commitment for decisive action.” Downing looked up. “Except you, Alnduul. And, I am guessing, the Custodians in general?”

“Again, I cannot comment.”

Caine frowned. “Maybe not, but given the duties of the Custodians, I would speculate that only the most-er, proactive members of your species would pursue such a career.”

“Another highly stimulating conjecture on which I may offer no comment. However, I may mention this: we Custodians have had much occasion to monitor and learn of the peoples of Earth. And many of us were struck by the similarity between the oath of service that a new Custodian must take and a human axiom, attributed to the Irish philosopher Edmund Burke.”

“And what is that axiom?”

“‘All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.’”

Trevor smiled, Downing blew out a great sigh. Caine just nodded. “Thank you, Alnduul.”

“Why do you thank me, Mr. Riordan?”

“For sharing that with us. And for being who you are.”

After a pause, Alnduul responded, “And who else would I be?” The tone was wry, yet strangely serious, too. When he spoke again, it was with his customary inflection. “We have arrived unobserved, despite your automated surveillance satellites. And yes, Mr. Downing, I am including the small nonmetallic devices mixed in with the debris of the rings. You will experience a gee of acceleration now: we shall have you at your destination shortly.”

Within the hour, their destination appeared just beyond the terminator of the gas giant: a small white disk that housed the naval base that humans called the Pearl. Wreathed in a thick, white, infamously noxious atmosphere, the world itself was the third satellite of its parent planet, and hence designated C, making it Barnard’s Star 2 C. Or “Barney Deucy,” in service slang. Angling up from it were several sleek silver slivers.

Trevor pitched his chin at them. “Welcoming committee. With weapons hot, I’ll bet.”

“That assumption is incorrect, Commander. We transmitted the codes Mr. Downing furnished to us when he boarded. I believe your craft will rendezvous with you in approximately thirty minutes.”

Trevor frowned, looked askance at the ceiling. “Don’t you mean, ‘rendezvous with us’?”

“No, Commander, I do not.” There was a distant rumble-and suddenly, the starfield seemed to shift a bit. “We have detached your pod for autonomous operations; it will now maneuver to the rendezvous. As soon as you have transferred to your own craft, and your pressurized cargo containers have been deployed for pick-up, this module will automatically return to our ship. It has been a pleasure meeting all of you.”

Caine smiled at the ceiling. “I hope our paths cross soon again.”

“It is difficult to foresee the circumstances which might permit that. And yet, stranger things have occurred.” There was a long pause, so long that at first they thought Alnduul had departed without his customary salutation. “There is a datum I believe you should all have-but particularly you, Commander Corcoran.”

Trevor started, looked up. “Me?”

“Yes. It concerns your father.”

“Uh…yes?”

Caine heard the hesitation in Alnduul’s voice: he’s breaking rules; he’s not supposed to reveal this.