"Renner. Captain. Get us behind Atropos?"
"When I start the drive."
Sinbad was coming alive again, but slowly. Now Afro pos was a black near-circle against white light, unmistakable, a few hundred miles distant... almost toward the core of Murcheson's Eye, according to Sinbad's instruments.
Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes to get ready, then all hell.
There was a lot to do, but some of it would have to wait for the Motie Engineers, and they were flat out of action.
Communications. "Atropos, this is Sinbad. Atropos, this is Sinbad, Sinbad, Sinbad..."
It would just be dawning on Joyce Mei-Ling Trujillo that they were inside a star. Wonder and terror and a reflex reach for the camera. Glenda Ruth was a basket case, no better off than the Moties. "Atropos, this is Sinbad..." Others were moving. Renner craned his head around. At least Bury wasn't thrashing. "Atropos, this is Sinbad..."
Bury was too still. "Cynthia!"
She was already loose, pulling herself against him, fingers on his throat. "No pulse."
"Do something. Sorry, of course you will." The drive test lights blinked green. Renner enabled the drive. "Move her, Townsend."
"Aye, aye. Acceration. Stand by."
"Sinbad, this is Atropos."
"Blaine. Good. Situation unchanged as of our Jump time."
"Unchanged as of your Jump time. Acknowledged, sir."
"Report."
"Yes, sir. We're broadcasting on Fleet hailing frequencies. Nobody's shot at us yet. That may be a good sign."
"Not shooting, but not answering."
"No answer yet, Commodore."
Where the hell was Weigle and the Crazy Eddie Squadron? Silly question. Weigle could be anywhere. "Keep trying. We'll hide behind you when we get there."
"Right. I'll leave the channel open."
More movements behind him. Cynthia had reattached the medical systems to Bury. He thrashed suddenly, and quieted. Electric shock. Still dead. Skeletal metal arms lifted from the box, for the first time in Kevin's memory, and began to work on Horace Bury.
Ali Baba howled in terror.
"Victoria. Glenda Ruth. Anyone," Kevin shouted.
"Yes, Kevin." Renner turned joyfully. It was Bury's voice! It was Omar.
Not Omar's fault. Renner said, "When the Engineers recover, make sure the Flinger is ready and loaded, and keep double checking the Field generator." They had rebuilt the Field generator, altered it so that it would not expand and present a larger surface area to the wispy super hot star stuff around them. Now it matched all the Crazy Eddie Squadron ships, including Atropos.
"Stand clear!" Cynthia shouted. "Glenda Ruth, take Ali Baba! Clear!" Horace Bury thrashed again. Once more.
Glenda Ruth made crooning noises. The medical-panel lights glowed, but no sign of heart or brain activity. Dead panel, or- Glenda Ruth said, "Kevin, Cynthia, my God, stop! He's dead!" You never know- Kevin bit it back. She would know.
They were alongside Atropos now. Townsend matched velocities. "Stay alongside," Renner said. "Blaine."
"Sir?"
"I'm changing the plan. If I'm going to use the Flinger at all, it'll have to be before we build up too much heat, so we'll stay alongside you for the first phase of the battle."
"Yes, sir?"
"Keep relaying data."
"Aye, aye, sir. Data relay set," Blaine said.
"Got it. Any luck contacting the Fleet?"
"Not yet. Any further orders, Sir?"
Renner looked back into the cabin once more. "Yes. I'm canceling the instructions on avoiding high gees. Use any acceleration the tactical situation demands."
They saw through the eyes of Atropos. A black dot popped into place, then another, then two more. A green thread from Atropos to one of the intruders. The intruder's Field flared, expanded.
"It's working," Renner said. "The Khanate ships have an expanding Langston Field, which is great for most battles, but in here when it expands, it picks up even more heat."
"Could they have done what you did?" Joyce asked. "Got their Engineers to rebuild it?"
"Omar?"
"No data. I would not have thought of it."
More black dots. "Freddy, stand by the finger. We'll aim for the center of the cluster."
"Right."
The black dot expanded, ran through colors, and vanished. Atropos's green thread moved to another ship.
"Atropos."
"Aye, aye, Commodore."
Not Blaine. "Tell your skipper we'll commence firing when we have twenty-five targets. Watch the data link for exact time."
"You will fire when you have twenty-five, that's two five, targets. Observe data link for exact time. Aye, aye, sir."
Joyce's camera was running. Why not? What could it matter now if everyone learned that Sinbad carried nuclear weapons?"
"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.