Anvil of Stars

“They get this bucket up to, what, one fifth, one sixth c? What’s the drive?”

“In theory, laser propulsion and solar sail to the outskirts of the home system, primitive matter-anti-matter beyond, no sumps, no conversion technology,” Martin said.

“And the Killers won’t know this is all crap? Can’t they detect drive flares at forty light years? Didn’t their probes hit on this star system?”

“For a ship this size, detection of drive flares at forty light years would be almost impossible. The moms say the chosen system shows no signs of being visited. They say the ruse probably will work.”

Hans rolled his tongue across his teeth again, looked away. “If they say it, it must be so.”

“Do you approve the design?”

Hans shrugged. “It looks fine to me. Who’s going?”

“That’s your decision, of course,” Martin said.

“I’m glad you’ve left me something to do.”

Martin did not rise to the gibe. “If you’re having a problem with any of this, or with me, best to talk it out now.”

Hans looked at Martin darkly. “I’m worried about crew morale. I’ll be damned if I can find any easy solution, or any solution at all.”

“Isolate Rosa,” Martin said.

“There are about twenty Wendys and Lost Boys who would be very upset if we isolated Rosa. She’s been quiet, but busy.”

Martin raised his eyebrows, baffled.

“I’m working on it,” Hans said with forced cheer. “You seem to be doing well with this stuff. Keep it up.” He waved his hand as if shooing a fly and made a wry face. “Hell with it. Forget what I said. Brothers and humans. You choose the human crew. I’d like to be on the ship, but I don’t think that will be possible. So pick yourself. You’ll be number one again, at least aboard the Trojan Horse.”

Martin stood beside Hans for a few more seconds, but Hans had nothing more to say, lost in his thoughts.

Two days before separation, humans and Brothers exhausted from endless drills and conferences, Leviathan a growing point of light and remotes spread to their farthest extent, Martin was overwhelmed by far more information than he could possibly absorb. In his rest periods—now reduced to one or two hours a day—he slept fitfully, images of Leviathan’s bizarre coterie of fifteen worlds haunting his dreams.

Theodore Dawn sat in a wood-paneled library with him and pulled out book after book, opening them to pictures of ill-defined threats and dangers until, with a laugh, Theodore simply tossed the books into the air. “We always knew we’d die, didn’t we, Marty?”

“You’re already dead,” Marty said.

“We’re Brothers under the skin. But even if we die, so will they,” Theodore said.

“Who?” Martin asked, wondering if he meant the Killers of Earth, or the Brothers.

He awoke with wand clutched in his hand, and no answer.

“Three ships, Greyhound, Shrike, and Trojan Horse,” Hans said, projecting the designs of all three before the seven occupants of the schoolroom: Eye on Sky, Silken Parts, Stonemaker, Twice Grown, Paola, Ariel, and Martin.

Eye on Sky and Ariel would be going with the Trojan Horse and Martin. Stonemaker would be in charge of Shrike.

Hans said, “You’ve all worked out the Trojan Horse’s mission: envoy and explorer for a young, naive two-species civilization, four hundred years in space. Enough clues to make the Killers think that in the four centuries since Trojan Horse left its system, the civilizations have probably become much, much stronger, and would not appreciate having their early explorers destroyed… Donna Emerald Sea and Silken Parts are designing costumes reflecting the cultures.” He smiled. “Sounds like the Brothers are learning the art of fiction.”

“But this is lying,” Stonemaker said. “The difference was clear, we we thought.”

“Strategically, no difference,” Hans said. “Greyhound and Shrike have enough weapons and fuel to cook four of the fifteen planets, or enough to blow one planet completely apart, into orbit about itself if we aren’t interfered with—no defenses—a big if… The human crews are ready.”

“Brothers are ready,” Stonemaker said, smelling of ripe fruit and cut grass.

“Then we bring the plan to both crews.” Hans raised his hands and the Brothers lifted their splayed heads high. “Courage!” he said. “Does that translate well?”

“It is the smell of being born,” Stonemaker said.

“Couldn’t put it better myself,” Hans said.

Martin came awake to a soft touch on his shoulder. He had fallen asleep in the schoolroom, leaning against a wall. He rubbed his eyes and saw Erin Eire kneeling beside him. “Too much drill?” she asked.

He stood and stretched. They had two days until the split; preparations had come flooding down on them, and he was embarrassed that his exhaustion had made him drop off in a public place. “Trying to sleep before super deceleration.”

“Uh huh,” she said, unconvinced. “Donna guided the Wendys and a few Lost Boys in costume manufacture. Moms provided the fabric and did some assembly. We thought you’d like to see them. I think they’re pretty neat, myself.”

“Sure,” Martin said. Erin led him past groups of other humans, sleeping. Many Smells and Dry Skin conferred with Giacomo near the star sphere; everybody looked exhausted except Erin Eire, who as always was bright-eyed, calmly confident.

“Where’s Hans?” Erin asked as she walked steadily ahead.

“Putting together battle plans with Stonemaker, last I heard,” Martin said.

“Trojan Horse’s crew won’t know the battle plans?” Erin asked. “In case they’re captured?”

Martin shook his head. “No strategic weapons. What can we do?”

“Pray, I suppose,” Erin said tersely. “We’ve been working in Kimberly Quartz’s rooms, just up ahead…”

Rosa stepped from a side corridor, Jeanette Snap Dragon close behind. They blocked Erin and Martin’s way. “We need to talk to Martin,” Jeanette said.

Erin stepped aside. “Don’t take too long. I’m going to show off the costumes.”

“For a masquerade?” Rosa asked caustically. She looked if anything even more exhausted than Hans.

“You should leave,” Jeanette said pointedly to Erin. Erin looked to Martin.

“If she wants, she can stay,” Martin said.

“This is a private audience,” Jeanette said.

“Who’s giving the audience?” Martin asked.

“I thought you might have some promise,” Rosa said. “Now I have my doubts. Let her stay, men. Word will get around faster.” Rosa turned her full attention on Martin. “There’s a separate crew forming. We’re choosing a new Pan.”

Martin folded his arms, too tired to express much surprise. “Oh?”

“I’m inviting you to join the crew. Some have said you’d be an asset.”

“I said you would,” Jeanette added, as if defying him to disappoint her.

“What good is a separate crew?”

“The ship is splitting,” Rosa said. “Those who go with me have their freedom, Those who go with Hans… That’s up to them. Will you join us?”

“We’re dividing in three to perform a mission,” Martin said. “There’s no plan to let you or anybody take a ship.”

“We’ve voted to split,” Jeanette said, face flushed, left hand quivering. “You shouldn’t stop us. Hans shouldn’t. It would only prove how much freedom we’ve lost.”

“I have concluded that Leviathan is innocent. We’re in the wrong place,” Rosa said.

“You’ve been told?” Martin asked without sarcasm.