“To…?”
“Eliminate with extreme prejudice.”
Kira felt as if she’d been struck. She wasn’t the biggest fan of the League, but she’d never thought of it as being actively evil. “What the hell, Colonel? Why would—”
“It’s a political decision, Navárez. Out of our hands. It’s been determined that leaving any of their leadership alive, even if they’re rebels, is too great a risk for humanity. This isn’t a war, Navárez. This is extermination. Eradication. First we break the Jellies, and then we can focus on taking out these nightmares.”
“It’s been determined,” she said, spitting out the words with all the scorn she could muster. “Determined by who?”
“By the Premier himself.” A brief pause, then: “Sorry, Navárez. That’s the way it is.”
The colonel started to walk away, and Kira shouted after, “Yeah, well fuck the Premier and fuck you too!”
She stood there, breathing heavily, fists clenched by her sides. Only then did she notice that the Soft Blade—that she—was covered with spikes poking through her jumpsuit. Again her temper had gotten the better of her. “Bad, bad, bad,” she whispered, and she wasn’t sure if she meant herself or the League.
Calm but still filled with a cold, clinical anger, Kira sat cross-legged on the floor while she tried to think through the situation. In retrospect, it seemed apparent that Stahl didn’t approve of the Premier’s decision either. That Stahl would tell her the League’s plans meant something, although she wasn’t sure what. Maybe he wanted her forewarned for some reason.
That hardly mattered now. The League’s impending betrayal of the Knot of Minds was far more important than her own troubles. Finally they had a chance of peace (with the Jellies at least) and the Premier had to throw it away because he wasn’t willing to try. Was trying so great a risk, after all?
Frustration joined anger within Kira. She hadn’t even voted for the Premier—none of them had!—and he was going to set them at perpetual odds with the Jellies. Fear was driving them, she thought, not hope. And as events had taught her, fear was a poor guide indeed.
What was the Premier’s name? She couldn’t even recall. The League tended to shuffle through them like cards.
If only there was a way to warn the Knot of Minds. Maybe then some sort of alliance could be saved. Kira wondered if the Soft Blade could somehow contact the Jellies. But no, whatever signals the xeno could produce, they seemed to be indiscriminate, blasted forth to the whole of the galaxy. And luring even more Jellies and nightmares to Sol would hardly be helpful.
If she could somehow manage to break out, then—then what? Kira hadn’t seen the file of information Tschetter had given Akawe (and that the Darmstadt had copied over to the Wallfish), but she felt sure there had to be contact information in it: times, frequencies, and locations, that sort of thing. But she doubted that the UMC technicians would have left even a single copy of the file on the Wallfish’s computers, and Kira had no idea whether Gregorovich had bothered to memorize any of the information.
If not—and Kira thought it would be irresponsible to assume otherwise—then Itari would be their only hope of warning the Knot of Minds. She’d not only have to rescue herself, she’d also have to rescue Itari, get the Jelly to a ship, and then fly the ship out of the system, where they’d be clear of any jamming, and the whole time the UMC would be doing their damnedest to stop them.
It was the sheerest fantasy, and Kira knew it.
She groaned and looked up at the faceted ceiling. She felt so helpless it hurt. Of all the torments a person could endure, that—she felt sure—was the worst of all.
Breakfast was a long time coming. When it arrived, she could hardly eat, her stomach was so cramped and unsettled. After disposing of the tray, she sat in the center of the cell, meditated, and tried to think of what she could do.
If only I had my concertina. Playing would help her concentrate, of that she felt sure.
5.
No one else came to see her for the rest of the day. Kira’s anger and frustration remained, but boredom smothered them like a blanket. Without her overlays, she was again left with nothing but the contents of her mind for amusement. And her thoughts were far from amusing at the moment.
In the end, she did what she always did when trying to while away the time during each of the long FTL trips she’d endured since leaving Sigma Draconis. Which was to say, she dozed, drifting into the hazy half-sleep that allowed the Soft Blade to preserve her strength while still keeping ready for whatever might happen next.
And so she spent the day, her only interruption being the bland lunch and even blander dinner the troopers delivered.
Then the lights dimmed to red, and her half-sleep became a full-sleep.
6.
A tremor ran through the floor.
Kira’s eyes snapped open, memories of the Extenuating Circumstances coursing through her. It might have been midnight. It might have been three in the morning. There was no way to tell, but she’d been lying on her side for so long her hip was sore and her arm was numb.
Another tremor, larger than the first one, and with it, an odd twisting sensation, similar to what she’d felt in the maglev. A moment of vertigo caused her to grab the floor for support, and then her balance steadied.
A shot of adrenaline cleared the last of her sleep haze. There was only one explanation: the hab-ring had wobbled. Shit. Not good. The very definition of not good. Jellies or nightmares—someone was attacking Orsted Station.
She looked at one of the cameras. “Hey! What’s going on?” But no one answered.
A third tremor shook the cell, and the light overhead flickered. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a thud that might have been an explosion.
Kira went cold as she dropped into survival mode. The station was under attack. Was she safe? That depended on the cell’s power source, assuming she wasn’t hit by a missile or a laser. If the cell was hooked up to the main reactor, and the reactor went offline, the explosives surrounding her could detonate. Same if there was a large enough power surge. On the other hand, if the cell was hooked up to batteries, then she might be okay. It was a gamble, though. A big one.
Boom!
She staggered as the cell shook around her. The light flickered again, more than before, and her heart clutched. For an instant, she was certain she was dead, but … the universe continued to exist. She continued to exist.
Kira straightened and looked at the door.
Screw the UMC and screw the League. She was getting out.
CHAPTER III. ESCAPE!
1.
Determined, Kira went to the door.
She had only two options. Find a way to disarm the explosives or find a way to reroute the current so she could break down the door without ending up as a white-hot lump of slag.
The floor rumbled.
Whatever she did, she’d have to do it fast.
Disarming would be safer, but she couldn’t figure out how to disarm it. Even if she could sneak a few tendrils past the slot in the door, she wouldn’t be able to see what she was doing on the other side. Groping around blindly, she’d be just as likely to blow herself up as not.