One of the women shook her head and spoke without looking up from her terrible task. "No, thank you," she said in horror-dulled voice. "It's really not a difficult job. And actually, the stench is the worst part of it."
"Except, perhaps for all the missing parts," the other woman chimed in. She grimaced with effort as she pulled a rather hefty right leg from the large pile of scraps they'd collected between them, then placed it beside the frail left leg of a child. "If we're too lavish making one body almost whole," she said, "then others have gaps in them, you see. And we can't have that, can we?"
Next morning, as Brim sat in the splintered wreckage of FleetPort 30's wardroom, he nodded grimly reading a special dispatch from Military Intelligence. It quoted an intercepted Situation Report from Hanna Notrom, League Minister for Public Consensus, to the League's Military Attaché in a neutral country. In it, she boasted that fully six Imperial FleetPorts had been rendered useless, among them FleetPort 30, itself....
Less than a metacycle later, he laughed balefully as he set out from that very satellite to face an early-morning raid of at least 150 Leaguers. The starship he was taking into combat was so patched up it would only just fly. But the Leaguers' aiming crystal still functioned atop his center readout panel, therefore he might do some damage. Glancing aft. he could see that the majority of Starfuries he led on the mission were in much the same condition as his own: heavily patched and not always flying a true course. On top of that, he could barely hold his own eyes open, and he knew that only the greenest replacements had cadged any real rest in the past three weeks. He took a deep breath and sipped a scalding mug of cvceese' to keep himself awake. Outside, local gravity was working up to a real space purger. If the flight he led was typical, then Imperial Defense Command itself had moved very close to "overwhelmed" status—while the Leaguers were still building up to their big raid. The only thing that kept him going at all was the almost certain knowledge that his opponents were experiencing the same fatigue as his own—along with a growing frustration at their inability to clear the skies of defending starships.
Even so, it was going to be a close thing, indeed.
Early on Nonad fifteenth—amid powerful waves of violent regional gravity that rocked the whole satellite—Brim tried to rest in his office while he read the TSIB. This morning's version contained a special summary bulletin. Late the previous day, Sodeskayan Intelligence had delivered top-secret transcripts of a high-level conference held in Tarrott the previous afternoon. In effect, Triannic had officially given Orgoth only until the seventeenth to sufficiently batter the Imperial Fleet so that an invasion could take palace. Otherwise, the Tyrant would postpone his invasion of Avalon and turn his energies to other conquests.
Two more days, Brim thought solemnly. Could Defense Command hold out? This day of relative ease—thanks only to blustering gravity—was benefiting both sides equally. But Fleet gravitologists predicted a rapid clearing during the Night Watch. And then "The Great Raid," as Eve Cartier had begun calling it, could begin—at the Leaguers' pleasure. He shook his head. At least a few shipments of mines had started to arrive at the FleetPort satellites. He presently had eighty some stashed away and at least a hundred were due on the morrow. All in all, perhaps two thousand or so would be available by the time the battle began. But they would have to be used wisely, or the slight advantage they gave the Imperial defenders would be quickly frittered away...
Two urgent communiqués from Calhoun arrived shortly after midday. The first contained revised orders implementing a new Imperial strategy based on the Sodeskayan intelligence. The League's forthcoming all-out attack would be met with a single, desperate throw of the dice upon which would now rest the whole fate of the Empire. Calhoun had concluded that this was finally the time to throw all his defending forces against the League attack, including the last of his meager reserves.
Brim leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his neck and thought about the momentous decision his fellow Carescrian had just made. It meant that if Triannic decided after the battle he could now invade, Imperial forces would have no resources to meet him. He nodded to himself. It was the right thing to do. If indeed it appeared to the Leaguers that the time was ripe for invasion, then Defense Command would have pretty well been beaten anyhow. He was ready. And, he supposed, so was nearly everyone else—on both sides of the war. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head in resignation and called the second "urgent" communiqué to his display. Then he gasped aloud.
2134DSFGK-3FDG GROUP KLJ9W 375/52012
[TOP SECRET]
PERSONNEL ACTION MEMORANDUM, IMPERIAL FLEET,
PERSONAL COPY
FROM:
BU FLEET PERSONNEL;
ADMIRALTY, AVALON
TO:
W.A. BRIM, CAPTAIN, I.F., FLEETPORT 30
<893BVC-12-K2134MV/57320AS90DWQER07GW0>
SUBJECT:DUTY ASSIGNMENT
(1) AS OF THIS DATE, YOU ARE PROMOTED REAR ADMIRAL (LOWER
HALF) (UNRESTRICTED LINE).
(2) YOU ARE IMMEDIATELY DETACHED PRESENT ASSIGNMENT SECTOR
COMMANDER, FLEETPORT 30
(3) REPORT VICE ADM B. CALHOUN, COMMANDER, HOME FLEET,
DEFENSE COMMAND, AS COMMANDER, 13 GROUP.
(4) YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY RELOCATE PLACE OF RESIDENCE TO
FLEETPORT 19, ARIEL. RELOCATION ALLOWANCE DOES NOT APPLY.
FOR THE EMPEROR:
LUAN TERRIL, CAPTAIN, I.F.
[END OF TOP SECRET]
2134DSFGK-3FDG
Suddenly he remembered Onrad's words as they discussed his daughter's future: "How about it, Admiral?" the Emperor had asked. He'd known!
At that moment, Barbousse raced into the room. "Cap'm," he panted, nearly out of breath. "I've b-been transferred! An' I didn't even know."
Brim bit his lip. It was hard to believe a man with Barbousse's contacts had been surprised with a reassignment. "Where to, Chief?" he asked with a real frown of concern.
"Um... to FleetPort 19. I'm to report to—well, I don't know who I'm to report to. Rear Admiral Gamriel was killed a couple of weeks ago. His replacement, I guess, Cap'm Brim, can you do anythin' about it? I'll be glad to turn down the promotion if I can keep workin' for you."
"You mean you want to work for a Carescrian? One who regularly puts your life at risk?"
"Aye, sir," Barbousse said, visibly upset.
"And what's this about a promotion?"