‘We all want the same thing,’ Ainsley said, ‘but I’m not sure a straightforward assault on the sensor station is a good idea. That bastard is going to have a multitude of reinforcements by now – precisely because it’s the logical place for whatever defeated the Olyix on Vayan to go next. They still don’t know exactly what I am, because the Welcome ship’s wormhole died minutes after the onemind sent a ship down it to warn the sensor station. But they know the Vayan system had something that killed their ships, so they are going to beef up their defences to a maximum and keep a serious watch. But if half of them fly to the neutron star, we’ll have split their forces, which bumps up our odds of success. The only other option is the one Ellici suggested, that we travel directly to the enclave the long way around. For the ships, it only takes twenty years at relativistic velocity, but it gives the Olyix forty thousand years to improve their defences.’
‘I thought time in the enclave went slowly,’ Dellian said.
‘So it does, according to the Neána. But if you suspect a dangerous unknown is on the way to whup your ass, why wouldn’t you put your biggest, smartest weapons division outside the slowtime bubble? Forty thousand years working on weapons R and D – who’s not going to do that?’
‘If you fly straight to the enclave, would you want us to come with you?’ Alexandre asked.
This time, it was all Dellian could do not to frown. The distrust was palpable.
‘Sure I’d like you to,’ Ainsley said. ‘And don’t be coy; it’s what the Morgan crew were expecting to do anyway. But forty thousand lightyears is a goddamn big ask, especially now we also have some workable options that don’t have the same level of demands on you guys. And who knows what we might encounter on the way? Plus, there’s the fifty-thousand-lightyear trip back to Earth if we succeed. So, yeah, Yirella’s plan gets my first preference vote.’
Kenelm took another look around the table. ‘I’d like an indicative vote at this point. With one stipulation – Yirella’s plan does not include trying to establish a community of actual humans at the neutron star. That lure civilization is to be as artificial as Vayan was – which I’m sure will be equally excellent,’ sie added, with an appreciative smile at Yirella. ‘Those in favour?’
Every hand around the table went up, even Alexandre’s eventually.
‘Del?’ Yirella asked.
Sheepishly, he realized he hadn’t raised his own hand. It was just . . . She and Ainsley outmanoeuvred everyone so effortlessly. Why does that make me uneasy? It’s like that time back on Juloss when she’d worked out what was really happening at the crash. She’s not telling us everything. Oh Saints, is it because she doesn’t trust us to do what we’ll ultimately have to do?
Slowly, he put his hand up, burning from the pitying grins Ellici and Tilliana were directing at him. But the light from the Avenging Heretic exploding eclipsed both of them.
‘Well, that was conclusive,’ Kenelm said. ‘We will attempt to lure the Olyix to the neutron star.’
What the fuck have we just said yes to?
London
10th December 2206
There were parts of Connexion’s Greenwich security operations centre that were just accumulating dust now. It was another thing that told Kohei Yamada how bad things were. In the time before Blitz2, the circular chamber was conserved to operating-room standards. Small cleanez would slide around, vacuuming and polishing every surface, and the aircon filters would remove any stray particle. But without regular servicing, the little machines became impaired then inevitably failed. And Connexion’s Greenwich tower now operated on a skeleton staff with just two functions: those who supervised the vital interstellar portals that supplied London with electricity and food, and the security division who watched over them. Janitorial services and the maintenance department had been suspended for ‘the duration’.
The wide arms of Kohei’s chair were stained with rings from his teacups. He brought a thermos flask in with him every shift, along with a pack of biscuits or sandwiches. Crumbs were building up in the edges of the leather cushioning. However, none of the grime was affecting the systems yet, which made him suspect most of the hardware would last longer than Blitz2.
His team’s job was to coordinate with London’s Special Branch and Alpha Defence, monitoring the ongoing sabotage by Olyix operatives. Thanks to some amazingly good intel coming from Yuri, they’d managed to stop eleven attempts in the last two years, ranging from physical assaults on shield generator stations to darkware infiltration of the interstellar portals that brought electricity to London. The only downside was the restrictions Yuri put on rounding up the kingpins afterwards. Kohei could see the logic behind it, not tipping the Olyix off to just how much they knew, but that didn’t stop it from being as frustrating as hell. It also meant spreading their attention wide, tracking associates of associates to try to gain insights into whatever scheme was being planned next.
That morning he arrived at the centre early as normal; what served as his apartment used to be a middle-management office on the tower’s seventh floor. Kohei did a long shift every day; there was nothing else to do. He’d managed to get his (fifth) wife transferred to the safety of the Puppis system, where she’d been assigned to Bodard – the first of the exodus habitats completed by the industrial stations orbiting Malamalama. She was using her sixty-year-old botany degree to help stabilize the habitat’s biosphere, which occupied her for long hours every day. They talked most days, him with the glum news of how London was coping with Blitz2 while she filled him in on the gossip from Nashua habitat, where all the branches of the Zangari family had fled to – which was like listening
