"Now, Glenda Ruth, I don't-"
"We can hope," Renner said. "It may have happened that way. Whatever the Khanate learned from Jennifer Banda and Terry Kakumi, they're playing it plenty cautious. They're sending their warships through, but so far they've left their Masters behind. Those are still in Mote system with nothing but a corporal's guard."
Renner touched the screen controls and brought up images of the remaining Khanate ships. They were big ships, like civilian cruise ships in the Empire, and not one resembled any other. They were accompanied by a score of smaller ships.
"Two dozen-actually twenty-six of the big ships. That's the target. The thing is, a Master's family and entourage are a colony. Those are all the Masters and everything they need to survive, plants, symbiotes, useful Classes, everything. Each family a little colony.
"We go after those. Medina is vectoring everything onto those ships. So are East India and the Tartars. Byzantium has agreed to help. In about twenty hours, things are going to be plenty hot for the Khanate Masters."
"That part I understand. Fine by me," Rawlins said.
Blaine said, "It won't be a surprise attack by the time we hit them, but right now they don't know how fast we're coming. They won't have factored in the boost from Inner Base Six. The Medina Alliance is bigger than they thought, too, as they'll soon find out. So-what choices do they have? Either they pop through to get support from their war fleet, or they send for help. Quite possibly both, that is, they go through and then yelp for assistance, which means recalling the war fleet. That should buy some time for Agamemnon."
"Yeah, it just might," Rawlins said. He looked thoughtful. "If they do that, maybe we can reinforce Balasingham in time to do some good."
"Good thinking," Renner said.
"What's Plan B, Commodore?"
Renner said, "Our best guess is that the Khanate's Plan B is the same as Medina's. If they can't blast past Agamemnon, then they come back here, put together a big alliance that can defeat Medina, and offer to negotiate with the Empire."
"So the important thing is to see they don't get past Agamemnon. Other than that-do we care who wins?" Rawlins asked.
Kevin Renner had never thought of that at all.
"The Empire may not care," Bury said. "But we do."
Rawlins frowned.
"I'll second that," Freddy Townsend said.
Both men were civilians. Rawlins couldn't quite suppress a patronizing tone. "Now, I know you like these Moties, but Imperial policy is not to get involved with the internal affairs of candidate systems."
"We all know it happens," Freddy said.
"Maybe, but this is at a policy level a hell of a lot higher than any of us," Rawlins said. "Even with the Blaine heirs aboard."
"Rawlins-" Renner began.
"Commander," Glenda Ruth said. "We're only speculating on what the Khanate might do. The fact is, they haven't tried to negotiate with us. They have taken two Empire citizens captive, and they won't even talk to us about it."
"Hell, your friends took you captive."
"And are doing their damnedest to make restitution," Freddy said.
The two Mediators were listening intently, but neither spoke.
"Medina has earned our trust," Bury said. "Should we not earn theirs? Then there is a matter of property rights. Medina knew that-"
"Property?" Rawlins demanded, his reply delayed by the lightspeed gap.
"Yes, Commander. They knew that the protostar would collapse, that the Sister would open. They bought that knowledge with scarce resources. Including the life of an Engineer we allowed to die aboard MacArthur."
"Be damned," Renner said.
"Yes." Bury's voice sounded labored. "The situation is not quite what happened to Mr. Townsend, but there are similarities. And from that little store of knowledge they guessed what we would do, and they bet their survival on being right. I have done the same myself. Do you not regard ideas as property? In a sense, Medina Consortium holds copyright on the Empire."
A beat. Then, "Copyright. Thank you, Trader. Commodore?"
Renner said, "We'll fight alongside Medina Trading. I'll take the heat. You've got your orders, Commander. Go hit those colony ships. We'll be thirteen hours behind you."
"Yes, sir." Too late to be of any help, but they both knew that. "You're an unknown to the Moties," Renner said. "They won't know what your ship can do. I don't know if that means they'll concentrate on you or try to avoid you. Be ready either way. We're going to need your protection when we get closer, so try to stay alive."
The delay was longer this time. "We'll try.'
"Any more questions?...Right. Let's get to it. Godspeed." Renner switched off, to find Bury chuckling.
"Yeah?"
"I was thinking," Bury said. "I can envision a trial. With Blaine's parents presenting our defense."
Sinbad was accelerating at 1.2 standard gravities. Glenda Ruth Blaine was using the cramped space of the galley area to do slow stretches. She asked, "Have you ever had a pet?"
"My dad had a pair of Keeshonden," Joyce said.
"They died, though. You knew they'd die someday and did." Glenda Ruth didn't wait for a response. "It was like with Jock and Charlie. They told me themselves. Charlie died. My folks had a version of the C-L worm by then, but it was late for Charlie, or it wasn't quite right. No, Joyce, you leave camera where it is."
Joyce hadn't moved. "I can't help what I'm thinking, Glenda Ruth, but if they were about to shoot me for knowing too much, I'd still be listening."
"I'm not sure what I want to say for the press. What I did, it wasn't honest and it wasn't simple and it would be insanely complicated to try to describe. What I'm getting at is that the C-L worm pulled my oldest friend off death row. Hello, Freddy."
Freddy had popped out of the pilot's enclosure. "Hi. Being interviewed?"
"Off the record. Coffee?"
"Bless you." Freddy Townsend turned to Bury. "Gravity all right, sir?"
Bury looked up at him. "It is no worse than Sparta. I am quite comfortable. Thank you. It is harder on Ali Baba and our friends." The Mediator pup was huddled into Bury's armpit; it didn't seem unhappy.
"I came back to show you something," Freddy said. "We've got cameras outside the Field." He indicated the lounge screens. Bright flashes and softer glows, the intricate light threads of a space battle
"Atropos group?" Glenda Ruth asked.
"They're still a couple of hours short of the Sister. That's the Tartar fleet. They were closest. Victoria, I'm afraid it's not going well for your people."
"We did not expect it to," Victoria said.
"A fearful consumption of resources," Omar said.
"An investment," Bury said.
"With potentially unlimited returns," Omar said. "We have had years to contemplate, but this is the first generation of Moties to see the universe as a place of real opportunity. So. How soon will we be there?"
"It's a bit under two light-minutes," Freddy said. "Call it twenty-six hours at our present rate."
"Won't it be all over by then?" Glenda Ruth asked.
"Possibly not," Victoria said. "Space battles take time."
"And this is a battle such as few have ever seen," Omar said. "A battle of Masters, the final failure of the Mediator class."
"One thing I don't understand," Joyce said. "Why won't the Khanate negotiate?"
There were new flashes of light on the screens.
"More ships," Glenda Ruth said, "Whose are those?"