Again she felt the substance of the dark shell that coated the inside of her cabin, flesh of her flesh and yet … not. It was a strange sensation.
She shook herself, forced her attention back onto the overlays.…
6.
Nearly four hours had passed before the intercom clicked on and Falconi said, “Listen up, everyone. Vishal just gave me an update.”
In her cabin, Kira perked up, eager to hear.
“Long and the short of it is, Greg is in pretty bad shape. The surge from the impedance block caused damage throughout his neural net. Not only did it burn out a good chunk of the leads, but the connection between the computer and Greg’s brain is continuing to degrade as the neurons that got shocked are dying off.”
A commotion of concerned and overlapping voices on the line. “Is he going to die?” Sparrow asked with characteristic bluntness.
“Not unless we all get blown up tomorrow,” said Falconi. “Vishal isn’t sure if this is going to cause permanent problems for Greg or if he’s just going to lose a few extra brain cells. No way to tell at the moment, and the doc can’t exactly wheel Greg into sickbay for a scan. He did say that Greg is probably enduring extreme sensory distortion. Aka, hallucinations. So Vishal is keeping him under sedation, and he’s going to keep working on him.”
“Aish,” said Hwa-jung. The machine boss sounded unusually emotional. “This is my fault. I should not have thrown the breaker without checking the line first.”
Falconi snorted. “No, it’s not your fault, Song. You couldn’t have known the block was there, and Greg wasn’t giving us any choices, the stubborn bastard. This is the UMC’s fault and no one else’s. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“Nossir.”
“Alright. I’ll let everyone know if there are any changes.” And the intercom clicked off.
In the dark of her cabin, lit only by the green glow of the fruit-like orbs hanging from the vines the Soft Blade had grown, Kira hugged herself. So Gregorovich had made a mistake in not wanting to come to Cordova. He’d still been trying to do the right thing. He didn’t deserve what was happening now, and she hated to think of him trapped alone in the madness of his mind, not knowing what was real, perhaps even thinking that his fellow crewmates had abandoned him. It was terrible to imagine.
If only … If only she could help.
Kira looked down at the arm the Soft Blade had made for her. Even if she couldn’t, maybe the xeno could. But no, that was crazy. There was a universe of difference between an arm (or a tree) and a brain, and a mistake with Gregorovich could cause even worse problems.
She put the thought from her mind.
7.
With the tweaks Itari had made to their Markov Drive, the Wallfish was able to dive into Cordova’s gravity well nearly as deeply as the Jellies.
They dropped out of FTL close to a pitted moon in orbit around a minor gas giant, the location of which the Knot of Minds had given them beforehand. The instant the Markov Drive shut off, Kira, the Entropists, and the crew (except for Vishal) abandoned their self-imposed exile and headed in a group toward Control.
As they piled into the room, Kira scanned the feed from outside the Wallfish. The moon obscured part of the view, but she could see the Knot of Minds surrounding them, the purple gas giant looming nearby, and several hours coreward, the cluster of dots that marked the location of the Seventh Fleet.
There were a lot of UMC ships—a lot—but it was what Kira spotted deeper in the system that made her gasp and Hwa-jung mutter, “Shi-bal.” Without seeming to notice, the machine boss put a hand on the back of Sparrow’s shoulder and rubbed, as if to comfort her. Sparrow never blinked.
A swarm of Jelly ships surrounded a small rocky planet next to the orange, K-type star. And not just ships: stationary construction yards; vast, glittering fields of solar collectors; satellites of every shape and size; defense lasers the size of UMCN corvettes; two beanstalks and four orbital rings for quickly and easily transporting materials from the scarred surface of the planet.
The Jellies were strip-mining the rocky orb. They had removed a massive amount of material from the crust, enough so that the scars were visible even from space—a crazy patchwork of rectangular excavations cast into sharp relief by shadows along their edges.
Not all the Jelly ships were meant for fighting, but even so, those that were outnumbered the Seventh Fleet at least two to one. The biggest of them all—the one Kira assumed was the Battered Hierophant—lay alongside the shipyards, a bloated whale wallowing in the gravity well of the planet. Like every other Jelly ship, it was pearl white, ringed with weapon ports, and as was evident by even its small thruster adjustments, far more maneuverable than any human vessel. Several ships hung nearby, but they appeared to be more maintenance vessels than honor guard.
“Thule,” said Nielsen. “Why doesn’t the Seventh Fleet turn around? They don’t stand a chance.”
“Physics,” Falconi said grimly. “By the time they decelerate, they’re going to be in range of the Jellies.”
Then Sparrow said, “Besides, if they try to run, it’ll be easy for the Jellies to catch them. You don’t want to fight a larger force out in interstellar space. There’s no tactical advantages. At least here they have planets, moons, stuff they can use to maneuver around while engaging with the Jellies.”
“Still…” said Nielsen.
“Extending radiators,” Morven announced.
“About time,” said Sparrow. Like the others, she was covered with a slick of sweat.
As Falconi slid into his seat, Tschetter appeared in the main holo-display. Behind her was a blue-lit room filled with coral-like structures and Jellies that were crawling across the curved bulkheads. “Any problems with the Wallfish, Captain?”
“All green here.”
The major seemed satisfied. “Lphet says we’re cleared to pass through the Jellies’ defenses. Tagging the Battered Hierophant for you now.”
“Looks like we lucked out,” said Kira, gesturing at the flagship. “It doesn’t seem to be overly protected.”
“No, just by all the blasters, railguns, and missiles it’s carrying,” said Sparrow.
Tschetter shook her head. “We won’t know for sure what the situation is until we’re closer. The Jellies will move their ships in response to the Seventh. You can see they’re already shifting positions. We’ll just have to hope they don’t decide to surround the Hierophant.”
“Fingers crossed,” said Falconi.
“Toes too,” said Sparrow.
The major looked off-camera for a moment. “We’re ready. Start your burn on our mark.… Mark.”
The thrust alert sounded, and Kira let out a sigh of relief as a sensation of weight settled over her. Outside, she knew the Knot of Minds was keeping pace with the Wallfish, the Jelly ships arranged in a box-like formation around them. That was the plan, in any case.
Falconi said, “Stay on the line. I’m going to contact the Seventh.”
“Roger that.”
“Morven, get the Seventh Fleet on the line. Tightbeam transmission only. Tell them Kira Navárez is with us and we need to talk with Admiral Klein.”
“One moment please,” said the pseudo-intelligence.
“At least the shooting hasn’t started,” said Sparrow.
“Wouldn’t want to miss the party,” said Falconi.