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surviving standing unprotected on the surface of Pluto, was lost to him.

He pulled back, seeking memories within the swirl of images. How much was real, how much illusion?

What was happening to him?

A deep forest . . . possibly within the northern reaches of North America . . . deeply shadowed, dripping wet, the ancienttrees around him swathed in dense patches of moss and the gray scale patches of lichens.

He remembered. He’d been here once, a very long time ago, before . . . before . . .

Before what?

Ah. He remembered, now . . . at least a little. He’d been an officer in the USNA Navy, and during a period of leave afterhis training downloads he’d been here, in Oregon, hiking a forest trail. . . .

Was this memory? Imagination? Or was he somehow actually standing there on the forest path?

He couldn’t tell.

Marta. He needed to see Marta. . . .

 

In Transit

Flag Bridge

USNA CVS America

1615 hours, FST

“Message coming through, Admiral. Naval HQ Mars.”

“Put it through.”

Gray checked his internal clock. They were bang on cue. America had emerged from FTL at 1425 hours. The burst of photons from that emergence would have registered at Mars sixty-two minuteslater . . . at 1527. And it had taken another forty-eight minutes for the reply to reach the America.

The signal would have reached Earth at 1550, and their response would not arrive until 1705, a response time cut somewhatby America’s slow progress toward the planet.

Times and distances flickered through Gray’s in-head processors, an automatic process that required no real input on his part.It was good to know that Mars had spotted the America and identified her almost immediately, however.

“America, America, this is NavComMars,” a woman’s voice said in Gray’s head. “You are advised to turn around immediately and boost for someplaceelse—either Chiron or Barnard Base. Eight Nungiirtok mobile fortresses entered the system two days ago, and Earth has surrenderedunconditionally.

“Admiral Barnes is hoping to assemble an ad hoc strike force in order to launch a counterattack against the invaders,” the voice went on, “and he’s counting on the America as an important asset.”

A chart appeared giving lists of stats, but the voice continued.

Damn, those things were big. . . .

“The largest of the attackers measures approximately 250 kilometers across, and masses 3 x 1016 tons. Weaponry includes gravitic fist technology with a range of at least 7,000 kilometers. Admiral Barnes wants all vesselsto stay well clear of the attackers until we can come up with a plan of attack. Message repeats . . .”

Gray whistled. America was decidedly outclassed by just a single one of those things, much less eight. He doubted that every human warship in the Sol System working together with unprecedented unity would be able to make much of a dent in that alien armada . . . not unless the Nungies pulled something really boneheaded, something on the order of diving into the sun.

Still, he was not inclined to run. Mars HQ could not know that he had a singular tactical advantage: the twenty-three captiveNungies on board. For days now, both Gray and Konstantin Junior had been working on them, trying to overcome their deep-seatedloyalty to their Tok Iad masters and instill in them a more realistic worldview . . . at least from a human perspective.

Konstantin had been doing the majority of the work, using memetic engineering techniques that had been employed against thePan-Europeans several years before, along with a modified version of the Omega virus created by the enigmatic inhabitantsof a civilization at Deneb. Omega had been designed to be used against AI targets but had proven useful against organic intelligencespossessing electronic implants.

Still, Gray had no idea how well their efforts were working. The Nungies had stopped attacking the transparencies every timetheir assumptions were challenged, and that, he thought, was a good sign.

But could they be used against Nungiirtok intruders here in the Sol System? That he didn’t know.

It was definitely worth a try, however. “No reply, Lieutenant West,” he said. “Comm silence.”

Mackey turned from his station and looked at Gray. “Is that wise, Admiral? They’re warning us off.”

“We’ll pretend we didn’t hear them, at least for now. I want to get in close enough to see those planetoid ships.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” But he didn’t sound pleased. Unlike Rand though, he kept that to himself.

“Pass the word to Birmingham, Arlington, and Acadia, Ms. West,” Gray said. “Laser com only. Maintain comm silence and stay in close formation.” Using laser communications betweenships would keep their signals focused within the squadron and not leak them all over the solar system.

“Yes, sir.”

“But tell Moskva to hang back,” he added. “I want them to stay out of whatever we’re getting ourselves into.”

“Aye, sir.”

Moskva had been pretty badly chewed up and still had a crew of four thousand Russians. There was no way Rand would be effectiveif he tried bringing the prize vessel into the fight. The three destroyers—the one used as a makeshift holding pen had beenabandoned—had not yet emerged from Alcubierre Drive.

“Konstantin?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“I’d like you to continue trying to link up with your other self. We need to know exactly what’s going on here.”

“I have been continuing to ping him. The speed-of-light time lag will hamper our efforts.”

“I know. Do it anyway.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

And the squadron continued to advance on Earth.

 

Koenig

The Godstream

Time Unknown

With the speed of thought, Koenig shifted to the USNA Midwest to find his home north of Columbus as he remembered it. Martawas there, seated on a sofa nano-grown from the floor. He reached for her with his mind . . .

. . . and found emptiness.

Her eyes were wide open but vacant. Empty. He tried probing her systems with his mind, but power levels were at zero and therewas no data flow within her computer AI brain. It was as though she’d been switched off.

“Marta! No!”

His scream was silent, but the emotions were a mingling of fire and ice. There was nothing there. Was she dead? Or simplypowered down?

God, was there a difference between the two in a robotic companAIon? He wanted to take her in his arms, but he found that he was as unsubstantial as a ghost, his arm passing uselessly through her body. He couldn’t feel her . . . couldn’t touch her. . .

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