"We've got another edge," Renner said. Imperial Autonetics has developed a ship's coating that only becomes a superconductor at forty-four hundred Kelvin. That's two hundred degrees cooler than what it takes to soften the hull. I can run a superconducting wire into Sinbad's water tank and then vent the steam.
"In short, we can stay alive a long time."
"We may need to," Freddy said. "Twenty-four."
"Load."
"Erecting the Flinger. Loading. Wow, it's warm out there. Fire. Retracting the Flinger into the Field."
A timer began on Renner's console. Twenty-nine seconds. Twenty-eight...
A bright star within the star. Twenty black dots expanded, stretched, added their stored heat to the white glare. Green lines converged on another. It flashed and was gone.
And thirty more ships appeared.
"Stand by Flinger," Renner said.
Scattered across a brilliant orange sky were sixty to seventy colored balloons. The eye couldn't tell their distance: sizes varied too widely. Most were red. Fewer were orange, and those faded into invisibility until they grew hotter. A handful were green and blue, inflating as their temperature rose, until one or another made a brief nova. It was a kindergarten astronomy class, the stars colorcoded to their places on the Hertzsprung-Russel diagram.
"Three. Two. One. Bingo," Freddy droned.
Another flare. Red and yellow bubbles inflated suddenly, green, blue, flashflashflash.
"How many is that?" Joyce demanded.
"Counting what Atropos bagged, over a hundred."
"Should we be cheering? Sorry, Glenda Ruth."
"It's all right. They're only Warriors. To the Moties they're valuable property, but-"
"Retracted. Seven warheads left," Freddy said. "Timing's about right, we'll be too hot to use it pretty soon. Captain, I have to say this is easier than I thought it would be."
"Too easy," Renner said. "Atropos, let me speak with Captain Rawlins, please."
"Rawlins here."
"This was Group A, agreed?"
"Yes."
"I think it's time to get the hell out of here before the B group arrives."
"Agreed. What course?"
"Out of the star. Head for the Jump point to New Cal. I'll lead. And keep calling for the Fleet."
"To New Cal. Damn right we'll keep calling! Acceleration?"
"Two gee's?"
"Good enough."
"Here they come!" The Atropos talker was shouting. "Hundreds of them!" Then in a calmer voice, "Sinbad, this is Atropos. Enemy fleet coming through the Alderson point. The count is three hundred ships. We are firing torpedoes."
"Maybe this would be a good time to use our last loads," Townsend said.
"I hate to fire ourselves dry, but, yeah." Renner touched keys.
"Atropos, designate us a target group, please."
The screen jumped, and a ring appeared indicating a cluster of ships moving together at high velocity away from the Jump point. Other ships were appearing every second.
"Hail Mary," Freddy Townsend said. "Okay, I've got a solution...erecting... on the way. Eighty-nine seconds." The timers began the countdown. "Of course you know we can't fight all those ships."
"All true," Renner said. "Of course we don't have to."
"They're not going to give up," Joyce said. "Omar, Victoria, can't they see they've been defeated? It won't do them any good to destroy us now!"
"They have their orders," Glenda Ruth said. "Victoria, do Warriors ever question a Master's orders? Joyce is right, this can't do them any good, not now. Whatever they do to us, they get back to the Mote overheated and out of fuel, and the Alliance fleets will be waiting. Do they know that?"
"They know it better than you," Victoria said.
"And they have their orders." Glenda Ruth shuddered.
"I think it is more than that," Omar said. "If they return, it will be the first time that Mote ships have done that. Many neutrals will join them just for that reason. And if a sizable group comes over to them-"
"Bandwagon," Joyce said. "Glenda Ruth, you agree?"
"I guess I have to."
"I have a new target group for you," Atropos said.
"Engaging."
"Rawlins here. Commodore, we're getting no answer from the Fleet, and we're going to be overwhelmed."
"Suggestions?"
"Run for it while we can. Pop back into the Mote system, where we have allies."
"It's not much of a chance."
"More than we have now," Rawlins said, "Sir."
"Actually, it's a good plan, for you," Renner said. "It won't work for us, we don't have the acceleration, but- Yeah. You do that. Commander Rawlins, I'm ordering you to detached service. Your mission is to survive and report to any Imperial fleet."
"Just a minute-"
"No, we don't have any time at all. I'm staying on course. You run like hell. Rawlins, somebody's got to survive this. Our Moties analyze it this way. If the enemy gets back alive, the neutrals will join the Khanate. We can't let that happen! Rawlins, you get back into the Mote system and let everyone know the Empire is coming!"
There was a long pause. "Aye, aye, sir. Godspeed."
"Godspeed. Freddy, get the Flinger ready."
"Sinbad's last stand," Freddy said. He nodded toward Bury. "I guess he deserves a Viking's funeral. Only there's no dog at his feet."
The cameras went dark. "We've lost the link to Atropos," Joyce dictated quietly.
"No shadow from Atropos now," Renner said. "Our field temp's going up. Stand by, you'll have to fire blind after I get a quick look."
"I've got a tentative target group. Give me a look to be sure. Right. Launching. Retracting. Captain, I think that's it for the Flinger."
"Agreed."
"I hate being blind!" Joyce shouted.
"Who doesn't?" Freddy said.
"In the days before superconductors, we'd be getting burn throughs now," Renner said. "I recall the battle off New Chicago. Captain Blaine-Commander then-got his arm half-burned off. Now we sit here comfortable."
"Whoopee. How long do we have?" Glenda Ruth asked.
"Hour anyway," Renner said.
"The Engineers are rebuilding cameras," Victoria said. "And I am informed there is a new antenna ready that might be able to communicate with your other ship."
"Bless you," Renner said. "Antenna, Freddy. I don't much like blind either."
"Identify yourself."
"What the hell? God damn! Imperial Fleet, this is Imperial auxiliary destroyer Sinbad, Commodore Kevin Renner commanding."
A short delay, then the regular communications screen lit. "Imperial Fleet, this is INSS Atropos, William Hiram Rawlins. We are part of the task force Agamemnon, detached to duty with Commodore Renner."
"Are there other Imperial ships with you?"
"None. Atropos and Sinbad," Renner shouted. "Get us a data link and I'll prove who we are."
"I may have a better way. Put Lieutenant Blaine on."
"Atropos here. Here's Blaine. Admiral, if you're going to help us, you better be damn quick about it! We're in trouble."
"We can see that. Blaine, who am I?"
"Captain Damon Collins," Blaine's voice answered quickly.
"Right. Blaine, tell me something a Motie wouldn't know."
"Poker. That first game. I know how you beat me, Captain."
"Remind me."
Renner made sure the mike was off. "I hope it's not a long story."
But Blaine was talking fast. "I'd never played Big Squeeze before. High-low, six cards plus a replacement. We had our six. I was showing two little pair up, and two down cards. You had three hearts and a something, club six maybe-"
"It's coming back."
"-nothing bigger than a nine I threw a down card. You threw the nine of hearts. Pulled the jack of hearts. We declared, both high. You had the flush."
"You swore you'd never figure out how I did that."