This Day All Gods Die Part 16

"What else do you want?" Min asked the pickup. How much more do you think you can get away with?

Morn had her answer prepared.

"There are six of us." Her voice seemed to resonate softly across the gap between the s.h.i.+ps, hinting at threats. "Mikka and Ciro Vasaczk. Vector Shaheed. Davies Hyland. Angus Thermopyle." If she was scared, she didn't falter or flinch. "I want you to take us aboard."

Min's whole body tightened in surprise.

Bydell looked almost cross-eyed with perplexity. Glessen cracked his knuckles over his board as if he were limbering his fingers to recharge his guns. Cray gazed vaguely at Min with her mouth hanging open.

"Well, s.h.i.+t." Captain Ubikwe threw up his hands, then slapped them on the sides of his console. "Is that that all? all?

"What in h.e.l.l's the matter matter with her? If we aren't going to shoot her, we for G.o.d's sake sure didn't come all this way just so we can watch her with her? If we aren't going to shoot her, we for G.o.d's sake sure didn't come all this way just so we can watch her coast." coast." He paused, then wondered, "Or is she afraid we'll only take some of them? Leave the rest to die? Does she think we've sunk that low?" He paused, then wondered, "Or is she afraid we'll only take some of them? Leave the rest to die? Does she think we've sunk that low?"

Min punched her pickup silent. "I know what you mean," she told Dolph sourly. "The more she says, the less sense she makes."

Who was Morn talking for? for? Who was really in command over there? Who was really in command over there?

Did she have Angus' codes? Was that possible?

"But we still have the upper hand," Min went on, even though her nerves flamed with warnings. "We have guns and thrust. And Angus is alive. We know his priority-codes." If worse came to worst, she could order him into stasis. "We want those people." Warden Dios wanted them. "If we don't bring them aboard when we get the chance, they may do something really crazy."

Like commit suicide.

Dolph spread his palms as if he were disavowing responsibility. "You're the ED director, Min. I'm just here to follow orders. And right now," he admitted, "I don't want your job.

"You make the decisions." He chuckled quietly. "I'll be content complaining about you behind your back."

Min had no time for his sense of humor. With a movement like a blow, she toggled her pickup.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ensign Hyland." Despite her apprehension, she kept her tone neutral. "Of course you can come aboard. That's what we're here for.

"Just give us time to come alongside and match velocities. We'll use limpets to pull you to our airlock," so we don't need to try any tricky maneuvers in our condition.

"We'll be ready," Morn replied promptly; distantly. Apparently she'd received the answer she expected. "Trumpet "Trumpet out." out."

The speakers gave a pop of static as the gap scout ended her transmission.

"I'll bet you will," Min muttered as Cray closed the communications channel. "I'll just bet you will."

Morn Hyland was only an ensign, nothing more. But she'd been to the far side of h.e.l.l-and come back. Now she was trying to play a game of her own: against Min and Punisher; Punisher; against the Amnion; even against Warden Dios. against the Amnion; even against Warden Dios.

In the secret core of her heart the ED director didn't know whether to feel proud or appalled.

Punisher eased carefully toward eased carefully toward Trumpet Trumpet and nudged braking thrust to pace the gap scout. Emmett had brought the cruiser to within two hundred meters of her target. and nudged braking thrust to pace the gap scout. Emmett had brought the cruiser to within two hundred meters of her target.

He could have done better: Sergei Patrice probably could have done much better. But two hundred meters was close enough for limpets. With a damaged s.h.i.+p and an exhausted crew, Captain Ubikwe didn't want to push his luck by moving nearer. If Punisher's Punisher's core displacement worsened suddenly-if misalignment froze the bearings, halting internal spin with a screech of tortured metal and any number of injuries-she would be thrown out of control, at least temporarily. A collision was possible. core displacement worsened suddenly-if misalignment froze the bearings, halting internal spin with a screech of tortured metal and any number of injuries-she would be thrown out of control, at least temporarily. A collision was possible.

Dolph kept a safe distance; let limpets close the gap for him.

Magnets on flexsteel cables coiled out from Punisher's Punisher's sides toward the little s.h.i.+p. Guided by sensors from the cruiser's auxiliary bridge, the limpets were aimed along sides toward the little s.h.i.+p. Guided by sensors from the cruiser's auxiliary bridge, the limpets were aimed along Trumpet's Trumpet's flank until they reached suitable positions bracketing one of her airlocks. Then the magnets were charged, locking the limpets to flank until they reached suitable positions bracketing one of her airlocks. Then the magnets were charged, locking the limpets to Trumpet's Trumpet's hull. After that it was a relatively simple matter to reel the gap scout in like a hooked fish. hull. After that it was a relatively simple matter to reel the gap scout in like a hooked fish.

The final adjustments took time. Trumpet's Trumpet's airlock and airlock and Punisher's Punisher's had to meet and mate securely so that they could seal against each other. But eventually the auxiliary bridge reported that had to meet and mate securely so that they could seal against each other. But eventually the auxiliary bridge reported that Trumpet Trumpet was in place: status indicators green; the airlock pressurized. was in place: status indicators green; the airlock pressurized.

Captain Ubikwe blew a sigh through his lips, then turned to his intercom.

"I know you're tired, bosun," he said into the pickup, "but I think this might be a good occasion for a little ceremony. Muster a guard, meet our guests at the airlock. Let me know when they're aboard." He paused for a heartbeat, then added, "Go armed, bosun. But don't threaten anybody. I'm not expecting trouble. I just want our guests to know we're prepared to stand up for ourselves."

"Aye, Captain." The young man tried to stifle his weariness, but the strain in his voice was clear.

Dolph silenced the intercom.

"You don't suppose, do you," he drawled to Min, "that they're going to keep us waiting? After they made such an issue out of getting permission to join s.h.i.+p?"

Min paced the bridge to contain her impatience while other people worked. At Dolph's question she shook her head. If she'd been able to guess any of the moves Morn-or Warden-would make, she would have been better prepared for them.

"Apparently not," Captain Ubikwe answered himself a few minutes later. His status readouts told him what was happening. "They're in their airlock already. They're keying our side now. We're cycling our lock for them."

Abruptly, as if he felt a sudden need for rea.s.surance, he asked scan, "We're still alone, aren't we?"

"We've lost our scan sweep, Captain," Porson answered. Punisher Punisher had been forced to stop her rotation so that she could grapple with had been forced to stop her rotation so that she could grapple with Trumpet. Trumpet. "I can't be sure. But I haven't seen any hint of another s.h.i.+p." "I can't be sure. But I haven't seen any hint of another s.h.i.+p."

Dolph's mouth twisted. "Charge the guns anyway, Glessen," he ordered. "Maybe we can believe Free Lunch Free Lunch is dead. But I don't trust is dead. But I don't trust Calm Horizons Calm Horizons to leave us alone." to leave us alone."

At once Glessen's hands jumped to the task. "Aye, Captain."

"As soon as our lock seals, Emmett," the captain went on, "resume rotation. We need that scan sweep."

"Aye, Captain," Emmett responded stolidly.

"Cray," Dolph finished, "tell the auxiliary bridge to hang on to Trumpet. Trumpet. We'll piggyback her home with us." We'll piggyback her home with us."

Cray reached for her intercom. "Right away, Captain."

He looked around the bridge as if to a.s.sure himself that he hadn't forgotten anything. Then he settled his back more comfortably against his g-seat while he waited.

Min feared that she was losing her self-command. At intervals she caught herself grinding her teeth as she paced. Trumpet's Trumpet's people were playing some kind of game: she was sure of it. And she wanted to know what the h.e.l.l it was. people were playing some kind of game: she was sure of it. And she wanted to know what the h.e.l.l it was.

Fortunately she didn't have to wait long. After another minute or two, the intercom snapped to life.

"Captain," the bosun reported softly, "they're here."

Dolph toggled his pickup quickly. "All six of them, bosun?" he asked in a deep growl.

"Aye, Captain. But, Captain-" The bosun faltered, then said more loudly, "One of them-it's Captain Thermopyle-he's pretty angry. He says we're still treating them like the enemy. Because we're armed."

The captain's eyebrows arched on his forehead. He flicked a glance at Min. "What does he want you to do about it, bosun?"

"He wants me to disperse the guard, Captain. He says they'll find their own way to the bridge."

For reasons she couldn't name, Min's sense of danger worsened. With his welded resources and his native hate, Angus was a kind of singularity grenade.

Dolph's rumble took on an unmistakable edge. "Is Captain Thermopyle threatening you, bosun? Has he mentioned what he intends to do if you don't comply?"

"No, sir," the bosun replied. "He hasn't gone that far."

Captain Ubikwe tapped his fingers on the arms of his g-seat. Glancing at Min again, he asked, "Now what, Director?"

She didn't hesitate. "I want them in front of me, Captain. I want to see their faces when they talk."

Dolph nodded slowly. To the intercom he said, "Remind them that an honor guard is a sign of respect, bosun. a.s.sure Captain Thermopyle I'll dismiss the guard as soon as he and his companions are safely here. Then bring them to the bridge.

"When he gets here, he and I can discuss the protocol of joining a superior officer's s.h.i.+p in person."

"Aye, sir."

The intercom clicked silent.

Questions she didn't have permission to ask filled Bydell's face. Glessen seemed unnaturally busy at his board, giving Punisher's Punisher's weapons more attention than they needed. Porson whistled thinly through his teeth while he hunted the dark with his instruments. Repeatedly Cray lifted her shoulders and dropped them as if she'd developed a twitch. weapons more attention than they needed. Porson whistled thinly through his teeth while he hunted the dark with his instruments. Repeatedly Cray lifted her shoulders and dropped them as if she'd developed a twitch.

They'd all been under too much pressure for too long. Only Emmett sat at his station as if he had nothing to worry about.

Dolph aimed a frown in Min's direction. "Now what do you suppose is going on?"

She shrugged. "Sounds like a gesture. A warning. He doesn't intend to let us push him around. He's still a cyborg. He can defend himself. Or he wants us to think he can."

She had no confidence in that explanation. She just didn't know what else to think.

Grimly she resumed pacing the bridge.

By chance she happened to be on the far side of the curved s.p.a.ce when the bosun and his honor guard escorted Trumpet's Trumpet's people onto the bridge. From her perspective they appeared to be walking on the ceiling; standing upside down. people onto the bridge. From her perspective they appeared to be walking on the ceiling; standing upside down.

She was familiar-more than familiar-with the strange orientations caused by the g of internal spin. Nevertheless she strode rapidly along the curve so that she would be able to meet the new arrivals face-to-face; study every glare and falter in their eyes.

The bridge crew watched in silence as Morn Hyland and her companions approached the command station.

"Captain," the bosun announced formally, "may I present the captain and crew of UMCP gap scout Trumpet?" Trumpet?" His voice shook despite the determination on his features. His voice shook despite the determination on his features.

With an impersonal scowl, Captain Ubikwe studied Trumpet's Trumpet's people. "Thank you, bosun," he rasped. "You can dismiss your guard now. But I'll ask you to stick around. There may be something you can do for our guests." people. "Thank you, bosun," he rasped. "You can dismiss your guard now. But I'll ask you to stick around. There may be something you can do for our guests."

The bosun and the honor guard saluted somewhat raggedly. As soon as Dolph returned an acknowledgment, the bosun sent the others off the bridge. Apparently unsure of what to do with himself, he remained a step behind Trumpet's Trumpet's people. people.

Min reached the group; stopped. Gripping the b.u.t.t of her handgun, she c.o.c.ked her other fist on her hip and confronted six pairs of eyes, six strained, tired faces, as if she were daring them to challenge her.

Between one heartbeat and the next she scrutinized them all, first together, then individually.

Two women. Four men-or two men and two boys. She had no difficulty recognizing some of them. The names of the others became obvious by default.

Morn had positioned herself a little ahead of the others; leading them; taking responsibility for them.

One of the boys, an ash-pallid kid with grieving eyes and an unsteady mouth, looked like he might throw up if anyone offered to harm him; like he'd already suffered enough harm to sicken his soul. But the rest of the group- In their various ways, most of his companions were vivid with tension. Their postures shouted of dangers Min didn't know how to evaluate.

She remembered Morn well, not just as a little girl, but as a cadet at the Academy. Primarily because of who her parents had been, Min had paid unusual attention to her. But the woman who stood here now was dramatically changed.

As a cadet, Morn had been so beautiful that Min had considered her almost featureless: perfect and bland; with only a hint of chagrin and-perhaps-stubbornness in her gaze to give her face character. Now her airbrushed loveliness was gone. She'd lost weight, a lot of it, as if she'd been burning herself for fuel. And her experiences had chiseled at her features, chipping the blandness off her cheeks and forehead; cutting lines like gutters for pain between her brows, at the corners of her eyes, along her nose and mouth. Her eyes were dark with doubts and hesitations which the sharp demarcation of her mouth belied.

A cast covered her right arm: a sling held it loosely to her chest.

Facing the ED director, her free hand seemed to move involuntarily toward a salute; but she aborted the gesture.

Two men guarded her shoulders, Angus Thermopyle and a much younger man who nevertheless resembled him astonis.h.i.+ngly.

Angus stood with his arms relaxed and his palms forward, as if to show that he had no intention of challenging anyone. He seemed essentially unchanged since Min had last seen him. Perhaps the yellow malice in his eyes had deepened: perhaps his feral grin held more threats. In other ways he looked like the same strong, grubby, bloated man Has.h.i.+ had reqqed and welded. A slight hitch in his stride suggested that he'd hurt a hip.

The younger man must have been Davies Hyland: the damaged kid bore no resemblance to Morn. But Min had automatically expected Davies to look like Nick. She hadn't guessed that Angus was his father. Only the hue of his eyes-exactly Morn's color-indicated that he hadn't been cloned from Angus.

Yet that one detail was significant; crucial. Because of it, his expression reflected Morn's rather than Angus'. The mind behind his father's features hadn't been cramped and clotted with his father's hate.

The other woman-Mikka Vasaczk-glowered harshly past Morn and Angus without meeting Min's scrutiny. A bandage partially obscured her right eye: she'd injured her temple somehow. For that and other reasons, she reminded Min oddly of Warden Dios. She carried herself with an air of competence, and her compact frame and a.s.sertive hips gave the impression that she was stronger than she looked. Nevertheless she seemed almost eager to remain behind Morn and Angus, as if she didn't want to call attention to herself. Or perhaps it was her brother, Ciro, she wished to conceal. She kept one hand on his shoulder as if he couldn't move unless she pushed him; guided him.

Knowing nothing about her, Min guessed that she habitually used anger to control her fear.

Of the six, only Vector Shaheed looked relaxed. His blue eyes held a calm simplicity that contrasted markedly with the tension of his companions. His movements were obviously stiff, presumably painful: Min guessed that his joints hurt him in some way. Yet the pain didn't appear to bother him. His work at Intertech had at last borne fruit. Now he may have been at peace with himself.

"Ensign Hyland," Dolph put in suddenly, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself." His tone throbbed with deliberate anger. "Apparently you're proud of your parents. Didn't they teach you how to treat a superior officer? That's Enforcement Division Director Director Min Donner you haven't bothered to salute." Min Donner you haven't bothered to salute."

Min didn't glance away from Morn. Morn kept her eyes on Min. The air between them grew more concentrated moment by moment, thickened by exigencies which hadn't been named yet.

More than ever Min believed that Warden's game-the future he played to win-was at issue here. She felt in her burning palms and her clenched handgun that the outcome might be determined by what happened between her and Morn.

At last Morn spoke.

"Director Donner." Her voice was low; gravid with complex intentions. "I'm Ensign Hyland. You know Captain Thermopyle. This is my son, Davies Hyland." She indicated the young man at her shoulder.

As if he couldn't stop himself, Davies breathed quickly, "Director Donner." His tone hinted at involuntary respect.

But Morn wasn't done. The hesitation in her eyes didn't seem to affect her. "It's my duty to inform you," she went on, "that the others are under arrest. Vector Shaheed, Mikka Vasaczk, and Ciro Vasaczk are my prisoners."

Captain Ubikwe snorted like a mine-hammer. "That's fascinating, Ensign. They sure don't look like they're under arrest. The last I heard, we use armcuffs when we're outnumbered by our prisoners."

Min shook her head. "What do you mean, Ensign Hyland? What's your point?"

Don't keep me in suspense. Tell me what the h.e.l.l's going on.

Morn held her head high. Only the darkness of her gaze s.h.i.+fted: nothing else wavered. "My point is that I'm responsible for them," she answered firmly, "and I won't tolerate any interference with them while they're in my charge."

Slowly a fighting snarl pulled at Min's lips. Without transition she no longer cared whose game she was playing, or why. She was the Enforcement Division by G.o.d director director, and she she was responsible here. No matter how much Morn Hyland-or Warden Dios-meant to her, she had no intention of letting anyone come between her and her oath of office. was responsible here. No matter how much Morn Hyland-or Warden Dios-meant to her, she had no intention of letting anyone come between her and her oath of office.

"It doesn't work that way." She made the words crackle like alarms. "You're only an ensign. You have neither the authority nor the competence to present yourself to me like this."