'Disable? Gore snapped. 'What is that, the new politically correct term for blowing it to shit?
'All we know so far is that the Yenisey's TD link has failed— Kazimir began.
'Come on!
'I'm afraid I agree with Gore, Ilanthe said. 'That was not a warning shot. Yenisey is a warship, one of the best we've got, and designed to operate at long distances. The last thing that fails is the communication. After all, we kept in touch with Justine until the Void swallowed her.
'My staff will run a full analysis, Kazimir said. 'It should help define the nature of the attack.
'The weapon, you mean, Crispin said. 'I'm with Gore on this, Admiral, you can't start hiding behind language. All of us here today are long past that.
'You are correct, Kazimir said, knowing that they were right, the Yenisey was lost with all hands. It was hard, he hadn't lost a starship in combat in six hundred years, not since the last Ocisen expansion wave. The crew would be re-lifed, of course, but still he had to endure the fact that he'd sent them out there into a hostile environment, while they were woefully under-equipped. It was a classic command failure, deploying your people on the
basis of bad information under political pressure. The wonder of hindsight.
'In the light of this catastrophe, I propose we send our deterrent fleet to intercept the Ocisen Empire ships, Ilanthe said. 'I don't believe we have any choice. Following the loss of the Yenisey, we are seeing a very real and credible threat to the entire Commonwealth. Who knows what that unknown ship is capable of.
'They are still a long way off, Kazimir said. 'We can use that interval to discover what their full potential is.
'You're playing God with our future, Creewan said. 'I for one won't tolerate that.
Kazimir gave him a withering look. 'I hardly think one unknown warship constitutes an end to our civilization.
'You don't know it's just one, Ilanthe said. 'You don't know if that was their best weapon, or their equivalent of a bow and arrow. Kazimir, what is wrong with you? You are charged with defending our entire species. Will you please act as if you care?
'I care very much indeed. I continue to maintain we need intelligence on the ally which the Ocisens have found themselves. I would like to propose that we send at least one more scout mission to determine what we can of the threat level. We do have time, and I am reluctant to formulate a final response without greater intelligence.
Ilanthe glanced round the table. 'I will support that on the condition you at least mobilize the deterrent fleet. If the next interception is destroyed, then the deterrent fleet must be deployed against the Ocisens.
'I second that, Gore said.
The other three gave their assent.
'I will dispatch four Capital-class ships, Kazimir said. 'They should be there within five days.
'I'm not familiar with Capital-class ships, John Thelwell said. 'Are they part of the deterrent fleet?
'No. They are a grade below that. But I am confident they will be able to hold their own, at least until we know more about the Ocisen's allies.
Gore and Kazimir remained in the perceptual reality after the others left. Outside the window, the ice meteorites fell in silent splendour, triggering vast electron webs across the dark sky.
'You know, in all my time, and for all my clout with ANA, I've never managed to get a single hint out of it concerning the deterrent fleet, Gore said.
'I would hope not, Kazimir told him. 'It is our ultimate defence. Its nature should not be available for scrutiny and discussion, however well intentioned. It is enough that we have it.
'Now there's the thing, see. Down at my most basic level, I'm an old fashioned boy, rooted in the physical and distrusting of politicians. I'd hate to think our entire survival prospects are based on a cosmic-sized poker bluff. His golden face looked straight at Kazimir. 'Do we actually have a deterrence fleet, son? Is it real?
'It is real, Grandfather. And if the Ocisen allies prove stronger than our Capital-class, I will personally lead it into battle against the Empire's fleet.
'All right then. Forgive an old man his quirks.
'Of course.
'So what do we do about your mother?
'Wait until she contacts us.
'You think she will?
'I think she's probably Mayoress of Makkathran by now.
'Yeah, Gore grunted. 'You're probably right. But how will we ever know?
'Ask the Second Dreamer.
Aaron was making good time. He'd already retraced the entire route back to the Olhava camp. Now it was just a simple jog across nine hundred kilometres of a dead planet's broken, frozen, radioactive ground, and he'd be back at Jajaani. Which the impact would have reduced to a fractured nightmare of geology where the few survivors from the outlying camps would be mounting futile rescue attempts. Still, it was his only chance. Not that cheating death meant anything to him. This way was the only possible way to salvage his mission. He was still furious at himself for being so gullible. Inigo must have been playing him from the moment he walked into the excavation chamber. Leaking weak thoughts and meek emotions into the gaiafield, lulling him to a level of trust. Stupid. I would never have let it happen if I was thinking straight.
But too late for self-recrimination now. If he did get out of this, he'd have to maintain a keen watch on his own motivations and responses, make sure they hadn't degraded further under the assault of the unknowns in his subconscious.
The land he was jogging through was an ancient undulating volcanic plain, scoured of vegetation and crisped over by a thick skin of ice; residue of the deluge that had swept down from the highlands to the south during the last burst of weather before the temperature plummeted. Odd splinters of rock stuck up through the dull grey crust, torn out of the bedrock by the final inundation of water. Ice particles swirled constantly, as patchy as any summer morning fog. Dense clouds zephyred round in the windshadow of the outcrops, drumming hard on his suit as he moved through them.
His macrocellular clusters were still picking up the beacon line back to Jajaani. There was no communication traffic — other than his own distress call. The beacons simply stood there, tiny glows of virtual light across the forlorn world. The next one was eight kilometres ahead.
Aaron's u-shadow reported someone sweeping a communication beam across him. He shook his head in disbelief, momentarily suspicious this was another attempt by his subconscious to subvert him. Exovision displays started to show solid data. The broadcast point was directly overhead, and using the same emergency band as his own distress call.
'This is the Navy scout ship Lindau, are you receiving us?
Aaron stopped dead, and lifted his head to the dreadful tumble of grey clouds. 'Hello?
The signal beam immediately strengthened and focused. 'Ozzie be damned, who the hell are you?
'Cyrial, he said, picking a name at random from the Restoration staff they'd interviewed back at Jajaani.
'Well, Cyrial, this is the luckiest day of your lives. Stay put, we're coming down to pick you up.
'Have you found anyone else?
'No, sorry, you're the first.
Aaron stood and waited as the scoutship fought its way through the clouds in a burst of violent lightning. Ingrav units strained against the wind, lowering it metre by metre. The ship was a broad cylinder, thirty-eight metres long, its comprehensive sensor clusters retracted into stumpy fins around its midsection. Two thermal dissipater rings around the rear fuselage glowed a bright ruby-red, indicating how much power it was drawing on to hold steady against the fierce atmosphere. Snow hammered against its force field, kicking out a blue sparkle.