Judgment at Proteus

“No, we can’t,” I said bluntly. “Furthermore, I’m not going to subject the people of the Confederation to any more of this kind of butchery.”

“So we’re just giving up?” Terese demanded.

“Not at all,” I said. “We can’t fight them, so we’re going to isolate them.”

“How?” McMicking asked.

“There are three super-express lines between this side of the galaxy and the Filly side,” I said. “Plus probably a couple hundred local lines linking their worlds with the Shorshic Congregate. I propose we destroy every one of those links, starting with the super-express Tubes.”

“Frank?” Bayta murmured tensely. “Do you really want to be talking about this?”

“She’s right,” Hardin seconded. “We need the Quadrail, Compton. We need the commerce, the transportation—”

“And we’ll keep all that,” I cut him off. “All we’re going to lose is the Filiaelian Assembly. The Shonkla-raa are Fillies? Fine—let the Fillies deal with them.”

“Supposing we agree in principle,” McMicking said, eyeing me closely. “How would you do that?”

I hesitated. If Bayta hadn’t liked the first part of my speech, she was going to absolutely hate this part. “I know where there are a group of warships,” I said, lowering my voice. “Big warships, leftovers from the first Shonkla-raa war sixteen hundred years ago. We’ll activate one of them, fly it out to the super-express Tubes, and blow them up.”

“Wait a minute,” Hardin said, straightening up a bit. “There are starships out there? Real starships, that travel faster than light and everything?”

“Not on their own, no,” I said. “But I’m told there’s a way to piggyback with Quadrail travel. I think we need to fly in synch with one of the trains, only on the other side of the Tube wall—something like that. Don’t worry, we’ve got time to figure it out.”

“Where are these ships located?” Rebekah asked, her expression a mix of cautious trust plus outright disbelief that I would ever talk about such things out loud. It was probably the same expression Bayta was wearing right now. Not that I dared to look.

“That’s where we start getting clever,” I told her. “They’re buried near a place called Proteus.”

“Proteus?” Terese asked, her eyes widening. “Proteus Station? The place we just got chased out of?”

“Actually, no,” I said. “But I’m hoping that’s what the Shonkla-raa will think.”

Terese shot a bewildered look at Rebekah. “I don’t get it.”

I sighed. “Look. The word about the ships is bound to get out. The Modhri will know about them—he has to; we’re going to need his help in tracking the Shonkla-raa’s movements—and sooner or later the Shonkla-raa will grab a walker and ask him what I’m planning.”

A look of comprehension blossomed on Rebekah’s face. “And he’ll say the warships are near Proteus.”

“Exactly,” I said. “We know the Shonkla-raa are really sloppy about asking the right questions. With luck, they’ll jump to the conclusion Terese just did and scramble to meet us at Proteus Station. By the time they realize their mistake, we’ll be on our way to cutting them off from the rest of the galaxy forever.”

“Where are the ships actually located?” Hardin asked.

“On a world called Veerstu, in the Nemuti FarReach,” I said. “Not too far from a place called the Ten Mesas.”

“Excellent,” Hardin said briskly. “I have some interests in the FarReach. I should be able to get the people we need in there without attracting attention.”

I frowned. “What people?”

“Were you planning to fly this warship around all by yourself?” Hardin asked. “I, on the other hand, have whole battalions of pilots, navigators, and engineers.”

“Of course—why didn’t I think of that?” I said sarcastically. “And their licenses for ancient Shonkla-raa spacecraft are current?”

Hardin’s lip twitched. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he admitted.

“Fortunately, we should be able to give them a head start,” I said, taking Bayta’s hand. “Bayta’s studied the Shonkla-raa language. She can at least teach your pilots how to read the controls and gauges.”

Bayta stirred, and I sensed her getting ready to protest that she wouldn’t know ancient Shonkla-raa if it took out ad space on her eyelids. I squeezed her hand warningly, and she remained silent.

“But it will take a while for them to slog through all of it,” I continued. “Eight weeks, maybe a little more.”

“Two months is a hell of a long time in warfare,” Hardin pointed out. “Are we expecting the Shonkla-raa to just sit on their hands while we’re off deciphering their hieroglyphics?”

“Yes, actually, we are,” I said. “Because while Bayta’s playing language professor, I’ll be sending a message to Osantra Riijkhan offering to reopen negotiations for me to go over to their side.”

Hardin snorted. “You really think he’ll buy that?”

“Why not?” I said. “He’s already offered protection for the Confederation in return for my services. After today’s object lesson, it would only make sense that I might be reconsidering his offer.”

“That’s an easy enough game to play as long as you can stay on Earth,” McMicking pointed out. “What happens if he wants to meet with you somewhere else, where we can’t protect you?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” I said. “Are we agreed, then?”

There was a moment of silence. “There are a lot of details we haven’t touched on,” Hardin said. “But we’ve got time to work those out. Fine. Hardin Industries is in.”

McMicking half lifted a hand. “So am I.”

“You’re part of Hardin Industries,” Hardin reminded him dryly. He cocked an eyebrow at me. “So are you, Compton, if you want to be.”

“You mean reinstatement?” I shook my head. “Thanks, but it’s bad enough I have to work with a man who employs people like our friend from the super-express. I don’t think I could handle being on the actual payroll.”

Hardin hissed out an impatient sigh. “I already told McMicking, Compton. Now I’ll tell you. He was working entirely alone. Yes, he was working for me; and yes, I had him on a very loose leash. Too loose, as it turned out. But as you may recall, I gave you the same freedom when you worked for me.”

“Leashes aside, you’re also the one who created his neat little bag of tricks,” I reminded him.

“And you should be damn glad I did,” he countered. “Those bouncy marbles McMicking used against the Shonkla-raa out there? They came onto the Tube as protective bubble wrap.”

I frowned at McMicking. “Bubble wrap?”

“Two-centimeter-diameter air-filled plastic spheres set between two thin sheets of plastic,” he confirmed. “The stuff looks and acts just like normal protective wrap, except that the spheres are three-hundred-kilo test weight. Pull the two enclosing sheets apart, and the spheres drop out, ready to use.”

“Very neat,” I said.

“The point is that I may have equipped the bastard, but I never authorized his plan,” Hardin said. “That was all him.”

“Fine,” I said. “My point is that I’m not working for Hardin Industries anymore. I’ll work with you, but not for you.”

Hardin grimaced, but nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “Would you be willing to at least accept a ride back to Earth? My torchyacht is faster than anything you could rent at the transfer station, and a lot more secure.”

“That one I’ll be more than happy to accept,” I assured him. “Why don’t you and McMicking go find Morse and see if he can talk Colonel Savali into letting us leave the station. Terese, you and Rebekah might as well go with them. We’ll be along in a minute.”

“Right,” McMicking said before anyone could object. “Mr. Hardin?”

“Just make it fast,” Hardin warned me as he headed toward the door. “I’m suddenly not liking this place very much.”

“We’ll be right there,” I promised.

They filed out, the door closing again behind them. “You do realize,” Bayta said into the silence, “that I don’t know enough ancient Shonkla-raa to teach a fifteen-minute class.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “I wasn’t going to have them spend more than fifteen minutes on it anyway.”