system relay the signal I was sending via nanites to the distant enemy. Essentially, I talked to the Nano ships via thoughts spoken as words in my mind.
“You aren’t going to hear anything, Captain,” I said. “But just leave the channel open. I’m transmitting with my mind and my nanites.”
Now, Miklos was certain I was mad. He stared at me with eyes that almost popped from his skull. I ignored him.
Alamo. This is Colonel Kyle Riggs. Please respond.
We waited a long time. It was several light-minutes to the gas giant and back, but that time came and went without any response. I frowned at the communication system and tapped at a screen full of logs.
“You did send something, Colonel,” Miklos said, impressed. “Are you telling me that these ships are telepathic?”
“No. But they use radio packets my internal nanites know how to transmit. Think about it: your speech starts out as thoughts in your head, right? Your mouth merely translates those impulses into a form that can be sent to others. I’m doing the same thing-but I’m using the nanites and a radio signal, instead of my mouth. I’m hoping that Alamo is still listening to that channel, like a security backdoor left open.”
“But why not simply speak English to them?” Miklos asked.
“Because they’ve been ignoring all such transmissions. By using the nanite translation, I’m using their own language. I’m hoping they will respond to that.”
We tried several more attempts, and I grew frustrated. I tried to think of what I’d done in the past to get a response out of Alamo when the ship didn’t feel like talking.
Alamo, I thought. You’ve made a serious error.
Several minutes past before a message came back. The communications channel had a brainbox attached to it, and it didn’t require Marvin to translate.
“No error has been detected,” the translator said.
I grinned at Miklos. He looked surprised and uncomfortable. I got the feeling he’d wanted me to fail in this endeavor. I looked away from him and back to the screen. I tapped at it and arranged a transcription to print my half of the conversation. As I thought carefully about what to transmit, he watched apprehensively.
You’ve attacked allied ships, I sent to the Nano ships. That was an error.
“No allied ships were attacked.”
You destroyed one of my ships with a pilot from Earth. You killed my pilot. Attacking one’s allies is an error.
“Definitional threshold failure: We do not recognize your status as allies.”
You came to our system. You helped us drive out the Macros. We account you as allies in return for this aid. What is your current mission? We will help you in return.
The next response took longer than usual to come back. I knew Alamo’s brainbox was running hot.
“Your offer of assistance can’t be accepted at this level.”
Ask your command personnel.
“This ship currently has no command personnel.”
What about the Crustaceans? Don’t you have them aboard?
“Test subjects are aboard, but no command personnel.”
Suddenly, I found myself catching on. The Nano ships had gone rogue again. They’d left the lobsters high and dry, just the way they’d abandoned Earth long ago. I muted the link for a moment so I could talk to Miklos. We spoke in hushed voices, even though it wasn’t necessary.
“What’s going on, Colonel? I don’t understand their attitude.”
I stared at him, thinking hard. “The Nano ships have gone AWOL. They did it to Earth years back, after the initial invasion by the Macros was thwarted and a deal hammered out. Maybe the Crustaceans made a deal with the Macros we don’t know about. Or maybe, there wasn’t any threat in the system for a while, so the Nano ships moved on to another target.”
“But why Eden-12?”
I smiled. “That part seems clear to me. They are protecting the Blues. They’ve already marked us down as safe, and given up on the Centaurs. They are protecting the Blues.”
“From us?” Miklos asked.
“What do you mean?”
“They blew up our mining ships.”
“Ah, yes. But maybe they’d didn’t know who owned them. Or maybe they are in defensive mode and will attack anyone who molests that planet.”
“That would explain why they haven’t pressed their numerical advantage. They are in a defensive posture.”
I thought it over. “They can’t really move on the Macros or us, as the other side might hit the exposed planet. Either that, or they aren’t sure who their real enemy is.”
“There’s another odd thing about this discussion with the Nanos,” Miklos said. “They said our offer of assistance can’t be accepted at this level. So the question is: who or what is at a higher level?”
I nodded and held up my hand for quiet. I opened the channel again. Alamo, we need to make a request at a higher level. How do we do that?
“The protocol is complex,” the ship said. “Visitors must show humility, and demonstrate their harmless natures. This requires a given visitor to come alone.”
I squinted at the screen, rereading the transcripts. Visitors? Who had said anything about visiting anyone?
Miklos was waving for my attention. I muted the translation system and looked at him.
“The Blues, sir,” he said. “They must be talking about visiting the Blues.”
I rubbed my face, wondering if he could be right. I took an immediate dislike to the idea. Visiting a bizarre race of cloud-people on a gas giant? Alone? What kind of sorry bastard would do something so crazy?
I knew the answer to my own question, of course, and I didn’t like it.
— 28
I spent a long night in the command center on Actium, which ended with me slumped over the screens. When I finally headed to my bunk, it seemed like my head had only just hit the foam when a chime went off in my darkened chamber.
“What is it now? Are they hitting us?”
“No, sir-but we have a new contact.”
I groaned and climbed out of my bunk. I was talking to a voice in the ceiling-a voice with an Eastern European accent.
“You sound a little like Dracula. Has anyone ever told you that, Miklos?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, let’s just say your voice is not the best to wake up to. What is this new contact?”
“An Earth ship, sir. It’s arrived at the Helios ring. They want to talk to you.”
I groaned aloud. Crow had finally sent someone out to check up on me. I’d been expecting this, but I’d hoped it would all go away somehow. Now, they were finally here. I hoped it wasn’t Commodore Decker again. I couldn’t stand the man.
“I’ll be on the command deck in eight minutes.”
I was ten minutes late, but I wasn’t counting. In that short amount of time, I’d taken a shower and munched on some artificial bacon. It was discolored and tasted like someone had applied a layer salt and grease to corn husks. No one dared question the origins of this kind of food. We didn’t want to know how they made bacon out here. We all knew that finding out what it really was wouldn’t make it taste any better.
My first shock of the day was the newly arrived ship itself. The image swam onto the central screen. It was big-bigger than one of our destroyers, but smaller than a Macro cruiser. I stared at it, admiring the sleek lines.
