Destroyer of Worlds Part 38

With peripheral tubacles poised above the controls, Ol't'ro switched on sensors.

To one side, hundreds of blue-white lights. To the other side, the hungry magnetic maws of many more ramscoops. Sancho Panza Sancho Panza had emerged, as planned, inside a small void deep within the leading Pak wave: a noman's-land between battle fronts. had emerged, as planned, inside a small void deep within the leading Pak wave: a noman's-land between battle fronts.

"In position," Ol't'ro reported. "Taking our first reading."

Sancho Panza was at a near stop relative to the stars. The ramscoops were racing at significant fractions of light speed. Ol't'ro took bearings on the brightest fusion exhausts-nearby s.h.i.+ps-and the strongest of the neutrino-only sources-those that might be nearby. They waited a few seconds, and as the s.h.i.+ps sped on, still unsuspecting, took a second set of bearings. They were only ten seconds in normal s.p.a.ce. was at a near stop relative to the stars. The ramscoops were racing at significant fractions of light speed. Ol't'ro took bearings on the brightest fusion exhausts-nearby s.h.i.+ps-and the strongest of the neutrino-only sources-those that might be nearby. They waited a few seconds, and as the s.h.i.+ps sped on, still unsuspecting, took a second set of bearings. They were only ten seconds in normal s.p.a.ce.

"Nothing closer than a light-hour," Ol't'ro reported. "Nothing nearby coming faster than at half-light." They were perfectly safe-even by Baedeker's standards-for now. "We'll refine that every few minutes."

"Good enough," Sigmund replied. "I'm sending the message."

The main message went out by radio, endlessly repeating, but Sigmund also played the recording over the intercom. A Jeeves, speaking its version of Pak. Ol't'ro understood parts of it, his apt.i.tude with Thssthfok's speech only one of the many secrets he still kept. It wasn't a complicated message. Turn south now now or we will appear again. And again. And again. or we will appear again. And again. And again.

"Enough of that noise," Sigmund finally said. The pops and whistles ended. "We're still transmitting."

Ten long minutes after their emergence among the Pak, Sigmund spoke again. "Let's do this. Baedeker, are you ready?" Silence. "Baedeker!"

"Ready, Sigmund," Baedeker finally answered.

"By the numbers," Sigmund said. "Counting down from fifteen."

ON TWELVE, the hull of Reap the Whirlwind Reap the Whirlwind became powder. Here and there, where the cargo was loosely packed, air pressure burst through the weakened surface. became powder. Here and there, where the cargo was loosely packed, air pressure burst through the weakened surface.

On ten, Sancho Panza Sancho Panza, a minnow to Reap the Whirlwind Reap the Whirlwind's whale, burst free. Its thrusters scattered a small fraction of the dense metal pellets as it crept away.

On three, Sancho Panza Sancho Panza disappeared into hypers.p.a.ce. disappeared into hypers.p.a.ce.

On zero, the planet-buster in the heart of Reap the Whirlwind Reap the Whirlwind switched on. switched on.

63.

"It's working," Sigmund recorded. "We got their attention."

Success could be captured in remarkably few words.

The time-lapse surveillance data showed squadron after squadron of Pak s.h.i.+ps breaking off, often fighting their way, toward galactic south. Turning away from New Terra, Hearth, and Jm'ho.

Doubtless the Pak had their own visualizations: of unlucky s.h.i.+ps torn apart as the s.p.a.ce-time ripples spread. Close behind that came a blast of lead and gold and uranium that even shredded to individual ions was all but impossible to avoid. The ions were too ma.s.sive, and coming too fast, for a ramscoop magnetic field to confine or deflect. Relativistic heavy nuclei made the strongest cosmic rays look puny.

Reap the whirlwind, indeed.

Sancho Panza was eerily quiet. The Gw'oth were in their habitat, a.s.similating the experience in their own way. Baedeker was locked in his cabin, cowering in delayed reaction. That was all right. He would recover. was eerily quiet. The Gw'oth were in their habitat, a.s.similating the experience in their own way. Baedeker was locked in his cabin, cowering in delayed reaction. That was all right. He would recover.

Sigmund hoped that happened soon. The isolation was getting to him. He talked to Jeeves, of course, but that only brought to mind another Jeeves, a friend, now gone.

In the bridge view port, stars shone like diamonds. Sigmund added a few details and hyperwaved his report, surveillance file attached. He pulled up a holo of Penny and the kids. How much had Hermes and Athena grown during this this long trip? long trip?

Sancho Panza could stay in normal s.p.a.ce long enough for another message. could stay in normal s.p.a.ce long enough for another message.

"Jeeves, begin a new recording. 'Dearest Penelope. All is well. It will take a while, but we're coming home... . ' "

HEADS HELD HIGH, mane meticulously coiffed and bejeweled, songs in his throats, Baedeker cantered into the relax room. Why not sing? He was going home, the weight of worlds lifted from his shoulders. "h.e.l.lo, Sigmund," he said cheerily.

Sigmund was jogging on the treadmill. He raised an eyebrow at Baedeker's dramatic entrance. "You're in a good mood."

"Indeed." Baedeker got a bulb of redmelon juice and begin synthing a double portion of steamed mixed grains. "It finally registered. We have a future again. That is a very good thing."

"I can't argue." Sigmund wiped his forehead with the back of an arm. "What does the future look like for you? Will you come back to New Terra?"

English required only one throat, and Baedeker started eating. "There are things I must do on Hearth." That was not very forthcoming. "There are things I want to accomplish."

"Good for you," Sigmund huffed.

Why am I so reticent? Baedeker wondered. "Do not think me an ingrate. New Terra welcomed me when I felt unwelcome on Hearth. When I was dismayed by the terrible things the Concordance had done."

"All you wanted was a garden and to be left alone. In return, you saved our world. We're more than even."

"No more than you saved Hearth." Leaving Baedeker as indebted as before.

But changed in other ways. Now he had seen the good good that governments could do. It took people to save the worlds, people like him and Sigmund-and yes, like Nessus-but it took government, too. No one else could have provided stars.h.i.+ps, labs, crews, and access to the Outsider drives. that governments could do. It took people to save the worlds, people like him and Sigmund-and yes, like Nessus-but it took government, too. No one else could have provided stars.h.i.+ps, labs, crews, and access to the Outsider drives.

What did the future hold? Nessus had tempted Baedeker more than he cared to admit. He would would discover the remaining secrets of the Outsider drives. How better than as minister of science, with all the resources, talent, and influence that position controlled? discover the remaining secrets of the Outsider drives. How better than as minister of science, with all the resources, talent, and influence that position controlled?

In his hearts, Baedeker felt the stirrings of an even higher purpose. Might he not, someday, become Hindmost? Then, surely, he could act on the Gw'oth threat. Unlike the New Terrans, the Gw'oth truly were a menace-and no one understood that danger better than he.

"Are you all right? You got awfully quiet."

"Just thinking." Baedeker preferred not to discuss his ambitions. He would not discuss the Gw'oth. About the latter, he and Sigmund had argued more than enough. At least the aliens had mostly kept to themselves, within their habitat, since Sancho Panza Sancho Panza had left behind the Pak. had left behind the Pak.

So what else? "I have been thinking about New Terra, Sigmund. About the tides."

Sigmund stopped the treadmill and stepped off. "The lack of tides."

"Maybe not."

Sigmund blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I have learned a great deal about planetary drives. Enough, I believe, to fine-tune the operation of an Outsider drive."

"Safely?" Sigmund asked suspiciously. "To what purpose?"

Of course course, safely. "To superimpose an occasional tiny pulse or stutter." And unlike the first time Baedeker had imagined-and, wisely, recoiled from-that notion, he now understood the implications, down to the tertiary feedback loops.

"I don't follow."

Was it not obvious? "The resulting ocean surges will emulate the effect of tides."

Sigmund grinned. "If so, New Terra owes you you a deep debt." a deep debt."

64.

Er'o climbed from the habitat level toward the bridge. The whine of exoskeleton motors and the clump of his steps echoed in the stairwell. Bubbles streamed past his eyes whenever he lifted a tubacle. Most distracting of all: Ol't'ro's admonition, still echoing in his thoughts. If it is at all possible, find us an alternative. If it is at all possible, find us an alternative.

Exiting onto the bridge level, he found Sigmund alone. As intended. "Are you busy?" Er'o asked.

"Not at all."

Er'o sidled through the door onto the bridge proper. The main display showed a landscape, rather than the view ahead. The ma.s.s pointer-a device no one would explain, but whose function his studies had made obvious-showed no significant objects nearby. "May we talk?"

Sigmund pointed to the spare couch. "Of course. Have a seat."

Er'o clambered up and indulged the human need for small talk before getting to the point. "My friends and I wonder about our future." More so Ol't'ro wondered, but they had calculated Sigmund would respond best to an approach by a single Gw'o. "Recent events have been ... unsettling."

"To say the least. Er'o, something is troubling you. Out with it."

"What comes next for my people?"

"You have new friends. So swapping information, what we call cultural exchange. Commerce, probably. You'll be going home soon. Sabrina plans to send along a New Terran representative, what we call an amba.s.sador, to consult with your governments. We would welcome your representatives on our world."

"And the Concordance. Tell me honestly. Are we also its friend?"

A long pause. "The Concordance doesn't have friends. It has interests."

As rival city-states of the ocean depths had interests. How could it be otherwise? "You know the Citizens far better than I. How will they see their interest regarding the Gw'oth?"

A longer, more ominous pause. "I don't know, Er'o. Perhaps as trading partners. The Citizens trade with New Terra."

"You seem doubtful." Though no more skeptical than I, or Ol't'ro.

"I can't speak for them. I can tell you New Terra will be your advocates."

Jm'ho needed allies, not advocates. "Baedeker does not trust us. We a.s.sume his opinion will have considerable influence on Hearth."

"Why do you say that? Why wouldn't Baedeker trust you?"

Er'o was not about to mention sowing Haven Haven with listening devices. "He is not very discreet about his opinion." with listening devices. "He is not very discreet about his opinion."

"No, I suppose not. Still, why would he distrust you?"

"We know the location of the Fleet. And our talents scare him."

"Your talents helped defeat the Pak," Sigmund said, and yet he looked away. Yesterday's triumph only made Ol't'ro and those like him scarier today.

"For now"-without hyperdrives of our own-"we cannot defend ourselves." Nor threaten Hearth, for deterrence was the best way to defend Jm'ho. Meanwhile planet-busters, both Pak-like kinetic weapons and devices of Baedeker's design, remained a terrible threat. "I fear that our absence would be in the Concordance's ... interest."

So would eliminating Ol't'ro. Baedeker had already suggested it, likening Ol't'ro to Thssthfok, even while the Gw'oth had helped to improve Baedeker's prototype drives.

Sigmund frowned. "I'm sure Sabrina will a.s.sert forcefully that we consider the Gw'oth our friends."

"And what beyond words would she do for us?"

Sigmund said nothing.

What could he say? New Terra also had interests, and war with the Fleet would hardly be among them. Ol't'ro was right. New Terra might help, but Ol't'ro dare not depend on it.

They would take a lesson from Sigmund. Paranoia showed great survival value.

Er'o concluded the conversation and scurried back to the habitat. It was time to put to the test research under way since he first encountered humans.

"BREAKING OUT OF HYPERs.p.a.cE IN FIVE SECONDS," Sigmund called. Soon he added, "Nice, rational stars. A sight for sore eyes."

"For those who have eyes," Jeeves answered, also over the intercom.

Ol't'ro said nothing. They were deep in thought, in a final a.s.sessment of tactics and contingencies, and they had three sensor cl.u.s.ters fully engaged with instruments. Normal s.p.a.ce, all right. They took bearings on four familiar pulsars. Easy calculations put their position not quite eighteen light-years from Jm'ho. New Terra and the Fleet of Worlds were marginally closer, on slightly different bearings. They ran a final diagnostic on the mechanism that had long been the focus of the Er'o unit's research efforts. It pa.s.sed.

"I'm sorry," Ol't'ro radioed. They activated Er' o's homemade hyperdrive shunt- Transporting into hypers.p.a.ce their habitat, the middle of Sancho Panza Sancho Panza, and a corresponding third of the otherwise all-but-indestructible hull.

65.

The next days were a blur, Baedeker slipping in and out of consciousness. Slip in, anyway. The return was never so gentle. Sigmund cajoled, he berated, he threatened. When speech failed to work, the jabbing and kicking began.

How often did the cycle repeat? Baedeker had lost count. Each time that he emerged enough to hear, Sigmund would say the same thing. "Only you can save us."

And only Baedeker could. Somehow, on the first day, he had suited up and managed to follow Sigmund to a stepping disc in the drifting stern. Its hull, severed from the power plant still embedded in the bow, had become dust blown away by air pressure.

Baedeker found half of a hyperdrive shunt and a thin wedge of a hyperwave transceiver. He saw no way to repair either. The rest had been carried away in the normal-s.p.a.ce bubble around the Gw'oth shunt when they left.

The Gw'oth building a hyperdrive from scratch only proved Baedeker had been correct all along about them. And made his inability even to repair a hyperdrive all the more bitter.

With scavenged supplies, he and Sigmund had stepped back to the bridge. Then, in fits and starts, in a fog of confusion and exhaustion and dread, Baedeker had toiled. It had seemed endless. He stabilized what remained of the environmental systems. He extracted tiny fusion reactors from scavenged stepping discs to keep life support running. While Sigmund continued to forage what remained of the s.h.i.+p for water and emergency rations and anything else possibly useful, Baedeker began, fearfully, to disa.s.semble everything nonessential.