"Now it is a matter of getting out," she said at length. "The hatch above us is still closed."
Vaemar turned to the control panel again.
"In the absence of Protectors I think I can open it from here," he said. "I need but a little time to study the controls. Normal procedure for a ship like this when leaving a space station is to rise on the gravity motor when the lower hatch is opened, have that close behind us and then open the upper hatch. For obvious reasons both hatches cannot be opened together."
"We can do that from here?"
Vaemar operated a set of switches, watching lights sliding across a screen
"Yes," he said. "And I find that disturbing. It suggests the mechanisms of this installation are less damaged than they might be. I hoped to blast our way out with lasers or armor-piercing shells." He gestured at another control panel. "I should have realized a Protector would have built strong. But it raises a thought in my mind that the Protector may have survived. Or there may be more Protectors than we knew. This place is complex. I am sure now that there are control centers we have not touched. They must have built many redundancies."
"Well, let us run the reaction motor again as we leave, however we get out," said Dimity. "That will leave their possible survival, trapped in this damage, an academic matter until we summon security forces to make sure. Even a Protector can hardly cross space without a ship or a functioning motor. Vaemar, I hope we have done both our kinds a service this day."
"The hatch is opening," said Vaemar a few minutes later. "I think we should go as destructively as possible."
Dimity slid into the couch beside him. Again, one operated the gravity motor and the other the reaction-drive. On a pillar of incandescent plasma-gas the ship rose, slowly, out of the tube which led to the surface.
"I can't hold it!" Dimity cried. "We're in a gun-barrel. The ship will implode!"
"All right! Let it go. I think we have done what we can."
A dark tunnel, a growing circle of light. Space suddenly infinite about them, the disk of Wunderland hanging huge in the meteor-streaked blackness. Behind them, fire venting from the hole in the hollow moon, fire which they hoped had burnt out its core and everything in it.
"Home!"
"Home!"
A green light blinking on the control panel—the kzin color for danger. Vaemar's claws flashing on the keyboard.
"The ship identifies another engine starting," he said. "The signature is that of a kzin Rending Fang-class fighter. It is behind us."
"The Protector!"
"I suspect so. In Chorth-Captain's ship."
"Use the shielding!"
"Dimity, I am trying to discover how. I know how to pilot kzin craft, but the Protector's innovations are new to me. Throw the gravity motor into parallel with the reaction-drive. We need speed!"
"Can we fight?"
"This is a naval gig. It has stealth if I can find it, but it is not built for speed. Nor has it adequate weapons to take on a fighter. We cannot ram. We must run. Fly the ship, Dimity, while I track the stealthing commands . . . you must dodge."
They flew, firing missiles and decoys behind them. Vaemar gave a snarl of rage and stabbed with one claw point at a dial in front of Dimity in the pilot's seat.
"Another source of neutrino emissions! Another engine starting! Not a gravity engine. Nothing this boat's brain recognizes. Dimity, I think we have been over-optimistic about the number of Protectors on the Hollow Moon and the damage we did. It is still under control and I think it is either moving or preparing to fire at us. I guess there are several Protectors still alive in it. I will launch more decoys."
He stabbed at another switch. "The God be thanked that the mechanisms on this vessel have not been altered from Navy standard too much. The decoys operate. Now, Dimity, fly as you have never flown before! Use that brain of yours to fly in random variations a Protector cannot anticipate."
Chapter 13
"That must have been one of the shortest peaces in history," Arthur Guthlac said. "At least two kzinti ships are barrelling in. The defense satellites are preparing to fire. But I've asked them to hold off for the moment. They won't hold long though. They could be chock-full of multi-megatonners, or something worse."
"Why hold, then?" Cumpston asked.
"They appeared on the screens out of nowhere. Or rather from the vicinity of the Hollow Moon. I hope they might not be an officially-sanctioned attack by the Patriarchy. Why would the Patriarchy attack with only two small ships?"
"Maybe they're freebooters, or fanatics defying orders. Maybe they don't know of the treaty."
"And maybe that's what we're meant to think," Guthlac said. "They've only attacked with two ships to make it look like it's unsanctioned. To make it deniable. You know how much destruction two ships could cause. Then, while they're saying it was nothing to do with them, they attack with everything they've got. The fact they were only just picked up suggests they've got a cloaking technology we haven't. What if they've got a whole cloaked fleet past our outer defenses? What if there are a few hundred cloaked battle-wagons ready to follow them?"
"That doesn't sound like the kzin Navy," said Cumpston. "If they'd got a cloaked fleet in close, I think they'd attack with everything they had. In any case, I don't want to start the war again if there's the slightest chance of preventing it." New data crawled across the screen. "A gig and a fighter. That's an odd combination for a fleet attack. The signatures of both are funny, thought. And the maneuvering doesn't make any sense."
"You're making it sound more and more like a diversion."
"It looks to me as if the gig is taking evasive action."
"At least let's find out who they
