“Why would it want that?” Tamman asked intently.
“The entire policy of Great Visits is designed to perpetuate continuous military operations ‘in defense of the Nest.’ It may be that this eternal warfare is necessary for the master computer to continue in control under its core programming. Psychologically, the loss of numerous vessels on Great Visits reinforces the Aku’Ultan perception that the universe is filled by threats to their very existence.”
“God,” Adrienne Robbins said sickly. “Those poor bastards.”
“Indeed. In addition, they—” Dahak broke off suddenly.
“Dahak?” Colin asked in surprise.
“A moment,” the computer said so abruptly he eyed his companions in consternation. He had never heard Dahak sound so brusque. The silence stretched out endlessly before Dahak finally spoke again.
“Your Majesty,” he said very formally, “I have continued my attempt to derive the security codes during this briefing. I have now succeeded. I must inform you that they protected military information of extreme importance.”
“Military—?” Colin’s eyes widened, then narrowed suddenly.
“We didn’t get them all,” he said in a flat, frozen tone.
“We did not, Sire,” Dahak said, and a chorus of gasps ran around the conference room.
“How bad is it?”
“This force was commanded by Great Lord of Order Hothan, the Great Visit’s second in command. In light of Great Lord Sorkar’s reports of our first clash, the main body was split.”
“Maker!” Tamman breathed.
“Great Lord Hothan proceeded immediately to rendezvous with Great Lord Sorkar,” Dahak continued. “Great Lord Tharno is currently awaiting word from them with a reserve of approximately two hundred seven thousand ships, including his own flagship—the true viceroy of this incursion.”
Colin knew his face was bone-white and strained, but he could do nothing about that. It was all he could do to hold his voice together.
“Do we know where they are?”
“At this moment, they are three Aku’Ultan light-years—three-point-eight- four-nine Terran light-years—distant. I calculate that the survivors of Great Lord Hothan’s force will reach them in six more days. Twenty-nine days after that—that is, in thirty-five Terran days—they will arrive here.”
“Even after what happened to them?”
“Affirmative, Sire. I calculate that the survivors of our battle will inform Great Lord Tharno—or, more accurately, his command computer—of what transpired, and of our own losses. The logical response will be to advance in order to determine whether or not we have received reinforcements. If we have not, Battle Comp will deduce—correctly—that none are available to us. In that case, the logical course will be to overwhelm us and then advance upon the planet from which Great Lord Furtag’s scouting reports indicate we come.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Adrienne Robbins whispered, and no one said anything else for a very, very long time.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“I blew it, ’Tanni.”
Colin MacIntyre stood staring into the depths of Dahak’s holo-display while his wife sat in the captain’s couch behind him. The spangled light of stars gleamed on her raven hair, and one hand gripped the dagger at her waist.
“I know how thou dost feel, my Colin, yet ’tis sooth, as Dahak saith. Even if this Tharno comes now upon us, what other choice did lie open to thee?”
“But I should’ve planned better, damn it!”
“How now? Given what thou didst know, how else might thou have acted? Nay, it ill beseemeth thee to take too great a blame upon thyself.”
“Jiltanith is correct,” Dahak said. “There was no way to predict this eventuality, and you have already inflicted more damage than any previous Achuultani incursion has ever suffered.”
“It’s not enough,” Colin said heavily, but he shook himself and turned to face Jiltanith at last. She smiled at him, some of the strain easing out of her expression; Dahak said nothing, but his relief at Colin’s reaction flowed into both humans through their neural feeds.
“All right, maybe I am being too hard on myself, but we still have a problem. What do we do now?”
“’Tis hard to know,” Jiltanith mused. “Could we but do it, ’twere doubtless best to fall back on Terra. There, aided by the parasites we did leave with Gerald, might we well give even Tharno pause.”
“Not a big enough one. Not with our manned vessels alone. From what Dahak’s been able to discover, this reserve is their Sunday punch.”
“Unfortunately, that is true,” Dahak agreed. “Though they have scarcely twenty percent of Great Lord Hothan’s numbers, they have very nearly seventy percent of his firepower. Indeed, had they maintained their unity, they might well have won our last engagement.”
“That may be, but it’s kind of small comfort. We had seventy warships and surprise then; we’ve only got twenty-six now, all but one damaged, and they know a lot of our tricks. The odds suck.”
“In truth, yet must we stand and fight, my heart, for, look thou, and we flee before them, we lose the half of our own vessels—and abandon Dahak.”
“I know.” Colin sat and slid an arm about her. “I wish you were wrong, babe, but you seldom are, are you?”
“’Tis good in thee so to say, in any case.” She managed a small smile.
“Your Majesty,” Dahak said, and Colin frowned at the formality. Dahak intended to say something he expected Colin not to like.
“Yes?” He made his tone as discouraging as possible.
“Your Majesty,” Dahak said stubbornly, “Her Majesty is correct. The wisest course is to withdraw our manned units to Sol.”
“Are you forgetting you can’t go supralight?”
“I am incapable of forgetting, but I am logical. If I remain here with the remaining unmanned units of the Guard, we can inflict substantial damage before we are destroyed. The manned units, reinforced by General Hatcher’s sublight units, would then be available to defend Earth.”
“And you’d be dead.” Colin’s eyes were green ice. “Forget it, Dahak. We’re not running out on you.”
“You would not be ‘running out,’ merely executing prudent tactics.”
“Then prudence be damned!” Colin snapped, and Jiltanith’s arm squeezed him tight. “I won’t do it. The human race owes you its life, damn it!”
“I must remind Your Majesty that I am a machine and that—”
“The hell you are! You’re no more a machine than I am—you just happen to be made out of alloy and molycircs! And can the goddamned ‘majesties,’ too! Remember me, Dahak? The terrified primitive you kidnaped because you needed a captain? We’re in this together. That’s what friendship is all about.”
“Then, Colin,” Dahak said gently, “how do you think I will feel if our friendship causes your death? Must I bear the additional burden of knowing that my death has provoked yours?”
“Forget it,” Colin replied more quietly. “The odds may stink, but if we hold the entire force here, at least you’ve got a chance.”
“True. You increase the probability of my survival from zero to approximately two percent.”
“Yet is two percent infinitely more than zero,” Jiltanith said softly. “But were it not, yet must we stay. Dost’a not see that thou art family? No more might we abandon thee than Colin might leave me to death, or I him. Nay, give over this attempt and bend thy thought to how best to fight the foe who comes upon us all. Us all, Dahak.”
There was a long silence, then the sound of an electronic sigh.
“Very well, but I must insist upon certain conditions.”
“Conditions? Since when does my flagship start setting ‘conditions’?”