Melody sat stunned. Segment Knyfh—fallen! It was one of the strongest segments of the galactic coalition, a leader. She had experienced Knyfh competence and toughness herself. If that segment had been defeated, how many other Milky Way segments survived?
Now another voice cut in. “Hammer of ::. Melody of Mintaka, we recognize your identity. As admiral of your remaining force, you are entitled to diplomatic courtesy. Surrender your fleet, signal your own position, and we shall harbor you as a prisoner of war. You will be sent to Andromeda and treated with the respect due your aura.”
Melody did not respond. She had no intention of yielding now. Her aura would not serve Andromeda!
“All other segments of Galaxy Milky Way have yielded,” Hammer continued. “No hope remains for you.”
Melody cut off the net. She did not question Hammer’s word. All the rest of the galaxy—fallen! The Service of Termination really had been for the Milky Way!
“Why did Captain Mnuhl offer to pick us up if he’s out of the fleet?” March asked.
“Noncombative assistance; probably part of the military code,” Melody said. “The moment he found out we weren’t quitting, be shut up, so as not to let us give ourselves away. He’s an honorable entity. He doesn’t want to quit. But he takes orders from his own segment.”
“Now that Admiral Hammer knows of your survival,” Llume said, “he will be alert. You have a most valuable aura, one that Andromeda can use in special ways. He will try to capture you, as Dash did.”
“I have always been desired for my aura,” Melody muttered, remembering again the bitterness of her youth. The viewglobe showed the Andromedan ships reforming, approaching the derelict area slowly. And it also showed two Atoms detaching from the Milky Wayan group: Captain Mnuhl and the other surviving ship of Knyfh. They could not actually return to their segment; that would take several thousand years. They were simply removing themselves from the battle.
“Can Admiral Hammer give orders to the Atoms now?” March asked.
“No,” Llume answered. “The Atoms were neither defeated nor taken hostage. They merely become noncombatant.”
“Hammer doesn’t need them anyway,” March said. “He has a fair idea where we are now, and we can’t maneuver.”
“Maybe we can take out one or two hostage ships before we go,” Melody said. But she knew it was hopeless. Andromeda had a decisive edge, and Hammer was competent.
“If Knyfh has fallen,” Yael asked, “why is Mnuhl obeying them? Isn’t he a creature of the Milky Way?” A seemingly naive question—but it struck a chord. Melody reactivated the net. “Captain Mnuhl,” she said. “Your segment is fallen; your loyalty to your galaxy now preempts your obligation to your segment. You are part of the fleet of Galaxy Milky Way. As admiral of that fleet—the only such fleet remaining—I order you to resume hostilities against Andromeda.”
There was a pause. Would this work? How did the military mind adapt to such a situation?
Then Mnuhl responded. “Accepted,” he said.
Hammer’s voice cut in. “You are a fool, Mnuhl. We have already granted you disengagement status.”
“I renounce it,” Mnuhl replied. “So long as leadership exists within the forces of my galaxy, my ultimate loyalty is to it.”
“That leadership shall shortly disappear,” Hammer said grimly. And the globe showed plainly that the Andromedan fleet was orienting on the Ace of Swords, ignoring the other derelicts. Melody’s notion of finding concealment within the mass of wrecks was illusory—like most of her other bright ideas.
But desperation gave her another inspiration. If she could recover two disengaged ships, what about the disabled ships?
“Slammer, will the magnets fight for the Milky Way galaxy?”
Slammer bobbed affirmatively.
“Could magnets reactivate the derelict ships, using the techniques we have worked out here, provided anything remains to reactivate?”
Slammer made a complex hum. “Yes,” Llume translated. “There are magnets aboard many ships of the fleet, surviving though the flesh entities perished. Those magnets will die in time if the ships are not reactivated. But they cannot act without specific direction.”
It might be enough. “Llume, you and I are going to transfer to as many of those ships as we can reach,” Melody said. “We’ll check out their condition and tell the magnets there what to do. We’ll ambush the enemy from derelicts.”
“But there are no hosts!” Llume protested.
“There are magnet hosts.” Melody turned to Slammer. “I’m going to activate the net. You speak to your kind. Tell them to make themselves receptive as voluntary hosts. Inform them that two female high-Kirlian entities will occupy them and provide directions before shuttling back to this ship—if any shuttles remain operative. The Andromedans will not understand your language soon enough to do them any good; like us, they underestimate the sapience of the magnets. Tell your kind that in this manner we may save them and us all—but that if we fail, they will not suffer any more of a death than had we not tried at all.” She activated the net and left it on BROADCAST for Slammer.
While the magnet hummed, Melody took March aside. “This is not a good chance, but it is some chance. Once we transfer out, you men seal yourselves tight in the control room and watch the globe. When you see a shuttle or lifeboat coming, take it inside if you can, because it will be one of us returning in magnet host for retransfer. Can you handle that?”
“That much,” March agreed, tight-lipped.
“We’re safe anyway,” another man said. “We already had the Service of Termination.”
“The derelicts are pretty close together now,” Melody said. “We might shuttle directly from one hulk to another, in magnet form, organizing our fleet of ghosts.” Then she thought of something else. “Did the Knyfh officers evacuate the former hostages—Dash and Tiala and all?”
Llume checked with the computer. “No. They remain in a sealed hospital room with an individual life-support system.”
“Leave them that way. If one of us reaches a ship with a transfer unit, we might transfer back into those bodies.”
Slammer had finished. Several hums came in on the net, providing the identities of possibly salvageable ships. Melody checked their positions in the globe. “I think we’re in business,” she said with satisfaction.
“We have very little time,” Llume said. “The Andromedans are drawing near.”
“We may have to distract them with the first couple of ghosts, then skip ahead to set up more,” Melody said. She and Llume and Slammer and Beanball went to the transfer unit in the hold. Again Melody had to help Slammer across the barrier, but now that the magnet had no weight, it was easy. “Yael will see that you get across next time,” she said to it. “Maybe we can find a way to break it down so you have free access. You may be best off staying with the transfer unit anyway.”
She showed the magnets how to nudge the transfer control, once she had set it. Little Beanball was just the right size to hit the switch without touching anything else. While they were rehearsing it, another magnet showed up. “Slimmer!” Melody said. “You couldn’t get across the barrier to join the others! It must have been a terrible experience for you.” But at least the little magnet family had been reunited.
Melody oriented the unit on a Solarian derelict in the path of the oncoming ships, and set it on Llume’s aura. Llume entered, and Beanball nudged the switch. Then Melody helped the Polarian host out. She was not a zombie. True to her philosophy, Llume had not damaged her low-aura host “You and Yael and the magnets have a nice chat while Llume and I are gone,” Melody suggested.