Chapter THIRTY-NINE

 SOLAR LEADERS ARRIVE FOR CONFERENCE
 TRANS-SOLAR NEWS SERVICE
 FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
 FLASH: SYSTEM-WIDE
 Filed at Solar Conference Site

The Leaders of the United Inner Planetary System (UIPS) and the Independent Nations of the Outer Region (INOR) are at the place they selected to resolve urgent Solar System problems of mutual concern. Here's how the arrangements worked out.

Consistent with the schedule, the INOR guests flashed their international identification and ship numbers to the Conference Control Center to report that they had formally arrived in response to President Camari's invitation.

Concurrently, at a signal from the UIPS President's ship Eagle, the station flashed an array of multicolored beacons. Docking berths along the Conference Site's rim opened and controllers transmitted "Ready" signals to the visiting flagships. Tugs, utilities, and emergency craft took their stations.

The UIPS Eagle nosed forward and matched its headings and moments to the Disk. Mass attractors took over, fine-tuned the alignment and drift, and gently drew the Eagle a third its length into the dock. Mooring beams grasped the vessel and it was transfixed. A red and white candy-striped umbilical snaked out from the dock and sealed against the Eagle's main portal.

Eagle, the host, had docked.

Turning to the guests, the "Ready" signals flashed again. Taking the lead, Planet Pluto's Revenge matched up and was drawn into its docking space. The others followed. The disk was transformed into a multi-spoke wheel spinning slowly against the backdrop of sun, planets, satellites, space colonies and stars.

The umbilicals' seals tested and secure, the Heads of State disembarked, each followed by an entourage of advisors, diplomats, strategists, economists, interplanetary law specialists, sociologists, philosophers, and others expert in the disciplines appropriate to the agenda.

The parties walked along separate corridors from their docking berth to an arched entry into the conference theater at the hub. The pseudo-gravity plates had been eased to a comfortable level for the inhabitants of the Outer Region. The representatives of Earth wore soft enhancer boots to compensate.

The central hall was huge, and the round table at its center wide enough to accommodate them all. Massive chairs were at the table, and behind each a row of smaller chairs to accommodate the lessors. A holoview tank, suspended halfway to the overhead, glowed softly. The walls were festooned with the emblems and insignia of all Nations in attendance.

Arriving under the arch, the Leaders paused. President Camari stepped away from his chair, his open arms an invitation to all to enter and join him at the table.

Entering and approaching the table, the Leaders turned to right and left to greet each other. Formality aside for the moment, they expressed their pleasure at seeing one another again, or in meeting for the first time. They came together at the table and formed small groups.

Camari and Narval took each other's measure as they worked their way forward. Camari, as host, paused at each knot or singular meeting to shake hands and express his pleasure to each Head of State for accepting his invitation. Politicians all, supreme diplomats of the Solar Community, they accommodated to the occasion and replied in kind.

Camari and Narval came face to face. Silence gripped the room.

"Greetings, President Narval," Camari said, "your presence at this conference will contribute much to its success."

"Greeting to you, President Camari. I feel certain that it will."

"I remind you, President Narval, these are indeed desperate times. Extraordinary measures are essential if we are to preserve our civilizations, perhaps our species. Separately or collectively, we must be prepared to take risks for our survival. Do you agree?"

"Not only do I agree, Mr. President, but I shall remind you of your words as we proceed through these deliberations."

"So be it."

Camari nodded and turned away. With everyone's eyes on him, he strode to his place at the table, spread his arms again wide in welcome, and sat.

Greetings over, the Solar System's leaders took their places at the great table. Their advisors entered and took seats behind them.

The first convocation for the survival of the entire Solar Community was under way.

Chapter FORTY

Captain Hyk strode the bridge impatiently.

"Point Icarus in ten minutes," he reported to Drummer and Brad as they entered the tight compartment. "The Jovians and Saturnians are coming up fast, and the Neptune-Uranus team is close behind. Orders?"

"You'll get yours with the rest, Har," Drummer's tone reflected his tension. He turned to Brad.

"Brad, I wish to address the Commanders of all Plutonian ships. Set up closed communications, please."

"Yes, sir."

Brad strode to the console he and Drummer had used to assess the fleet's status a short while before. He detached a microphone from the bulkhead nearby, keyed the computer, and spoke.

"Attention, all ship Commanders of the Plutonian Assault Force. Rig for secure 'Commanders Only' communications with Admiral Drummer. The Admiral will speak in one minute. Countdown — start now."

He handed the mike to Drummer. The first of many uncertain steps would now be taken.

Drummer glanced at the ship's chronometer, then at Captain Hyk.

Time.

"Ship commanders, Admiral Drummer here. Our allies are approaching in formation and they will link up with us in seven minutes at Point Icarus. We must greet them properly. I order the Plutonian formation to come about immediately from its head-on orientation to the Terminals and cluster to face our allies. Do it now. At Point Icarus I will address the combined fleet."

Drummer paused, then added, "I am turning over the details of this change in formation to my Chief of Combat Operations. Follow his instructions without hesitation."

Drummer handed the microphone to Brad and stepped back. Brad rattled off the revised orientations and positions, ship by ship listed in the Order of Battle. Both he and Drummer watched the effects in the observation pit's view tank.

As Brad spoke the close order of the original formation dissolved and opened. The maneuver was extremely complex, but within minutes the ships had come about in a ragged formation to face their oncoming allies.

Out of the corners of his eyes Brad observed Hyk input orders to the Dragon's guidance control and navigation centers. Hyk glared at Drummer as if the man was out of his mind. Brad expected the other Commanders to be equally perplexed and angered by the unexpected reorientation.

Drummer, by his order without prior notice and planning, had completely disrupted the Plutonian tactical formation. Valuable time would be spent to sort out the confusion and array for the assault.

##

Captain Yargoul, Commander of the Jovian Combined
Strike Team, stood on the bridge of the Battle
Cruiser Windstorm and scowled into his view tank.
The unconventional redeployment of the Plutonian
Assault Force amazed and appalled him.

"What in hell are they doing?" Yargoul pointed at the tank as his Executive stared aghast over his shoulder.

"Damned if I can tell, Captain Yargoul," replied his deputy. "This isn't called for in the rendezvous plan."

"I don't like it. Get nav on this right now and pass the word to our ships' Commanders. Assume a waiting formation ten thousand kay from the rendezvous. Get the Commanders of the Saturnian and Neptune-Uranus teams into a closed conference call with me. I'm going to suggest they do the same until we find out what this is all about."

"They smell the rat," Brad thought as he watched the oncoming fleets slowly alter their formations. He hastily left the command deck.

Walking swiftly along a passageway he passed Hodak at a workbench calibrating instruments as cover. Their eyes met and Brad moved on. Hodak switched off his test panels and headed toward a side passageway.

Myra, checking medical supplies in a wall cabinet, glanced at Hodak's features as he brushed by. His grunt caused her to close the cabinet and walk off. Kumiko and Adari would soon have the message.

##

The storage compartment was tiny, barely enough to hold them.

"Drummer will be talking to all ships' Commanders in the combined fleet in less than a minute," Brad told them. "I want to be there when he does so that I can deal with their reactions. Also, Hyk is a problem. I expect they'll all line up against us, including the Plutonian crews. The best we can hope for is a short delay while they argue among themselves. It's up to the five of us; six, really, if I can count on Drummer."

Brad looked from one tense face to the other.

"Hodak, your first job is Scarf. As soon as he hears Drummer he'll come charging up with his goons to take over the ship. Stop him."

"Kumiko, to the ship's fire controls. Do as much damage there as you can without being detected. I want as many as possible of the Dragon's long-range guns inoperative."

He turned to Myra.

"Suit up and head for the hangar deck where the two-place fighter-bombers are in position for launch. Tell the officer-in-charge I sent you to check combat readiness. I want three two-place jobs up front on catapults, fully charged and armed, hot and ready for launch. The officer on duty is sure to ask why it's you that's giving the orders. Just say that the fighters are going after the Terminals' minelayers and destroyers that just popped out through the force field's gate. Tell him I'm briefing the pilots personally and will send you along as my observer. He won't like it, but I doubt that he'll interfere."

"Got it."

"Remain on the flight deck, Myra. Move around and spot where each guard is stationed. When you see us coming, start to take them down. Pinpoint their positions to us as we come in so we can clean them all out fast. Confusion in the ranks works to our advantage."

Turning to Adari, he asked, "Did you put it together?"

"Yes."

"Come with me back to the bridge. I'll brief you on the way."

His look took them all in.

"Gather round — close."

Speaking rapidly, not wasting words, Brad shared information that Ram passed to him before his departure.

"A UIPS battle fleet should be loading about now into an expanded spunnel gateway off Luna. They'll be here shortly. If Drummer doesn't neutralize the INOR fleet, the job will be taken on by the UIPS. But they'll need time to re-group as they enter this arena. Our job is to keep the INOR fleet off balance until ours is ready.

"Everyone is to be suited-up and checked out for extended combat. Except for Myra, spread along the corridor as close to the Flight Deck hatch as you can without drawing attention. Keep a low profile and wait for my signal. I expect Drummer will be with me and we'll all go in together. Go now."

##

Drummer's voice was heard throughout the combined fleet. His tone was grave.

"This is Admiral Drummer. My words are, first, for Commanders of this combined fleet. Beyond that, I speak to all ships' crews and troops who make up this task force, and for all men and women within reach of my voice, whatever your nationality or whomever your leader.

"We are confronted with a dilemma. The mission assigned to this fleet is to capture the Slingshot Terminals. Slingshot and all that it represents will then become hostage to the negotiations now taking place between INOR and the United Inner Planetary System.

"If denying the UIPS access to their Terminals for a brief period was the real objective, I would have no qualms in moving forward. But the orders given to me by President Narval go much further, and I must share them with you so that you will understand what we face."

Captain Hyk's eyes narrowed and he took steps toward Drummer. Brad, standing silently behind Hyk, covered the distance to the door he had closed when he returned to the command deck. He shoved the locking dog closed. Turning back his hand brushed his sidearm, releasing the safety. Hyk halted several paces from Drummer, who ignored him.

"With heavy heart, I must now inform you that President Narval has a deeper strategy," Drummer continued, "one that presents a clear and present danger to all nations and peoples of INOR, and perhaps to the entire Solar Community. I state it as simply as I can: Narval's strategy is betrayal."

The way back had closed; Drummer plunged ahead.

"Here are the orders given to me by our President. Judge their purpose and their honor for yourselves. First, to capture and hold the Terminals. As soon as the Terminals are taken and secured, I am under orders to subvert all ships' Commanders of our allies so that they swear allegiance only to Narval. Those who refuse, under psychic probe verification, are to be killed on the spot.

"If this is done, Narval will have consolidated enough military power to dominate the entire Outer Region. When his position is firm, his strategy is to use Slingshot to force the UIPS to its knees, and establish himself as ruler over the entire Solar System. These are the real objectives of President Narval of Planet Pluto. If we follow his orders, have no doubt that he will attain his diabolic objectives.

"I refuse to comply with those orders. I urge all Commanders of INOR ships and forces to return to their home stations and report to their Heads of State who are now attending the Solar Convocation. Establish boards of inquiry, or conduct such investigations as you feel appropriate. But do not proceed with this adventure concocted in the mind of a madman. It means disaster for us all.

"I am now opening this channel for replies from the Senior Commanders of the combined fleet."

Chapter FORTY-ONE

Captain Yargoul's face, inflamed with rage, flashed on the screen.

"By what right do you take this on yourself,
Drummer?" he exploded.

"I choose to be a free man, Captain Yargoul, and have spoken as one."

"I don't believe President Narval gave you orders to turn us against our own Governments." Yargoul's eyes glittered his suspicion. "What's your game, Drummer?"

"Those were indeed the orders given to me by Narval. As for my 'game', as you put it, it is, first, to take Planet Pluto out from under tyranny; and second, to bring reason to the negotiations now taking place between INOR and the UIPS. You cannot help me with the first, but you and all honorable citizens of the INOR federation share in the obligation to help with the second. With whom do you stand, Captain Yargoul?"

"I stand against you, Drummer, and I charge you with treason against your Government and disloyalty to our cause. You are not fit to lead this fleet. As ranking officer next in line I now challenge your right to act as Supreme Commander of this Combined Fleet. I hereby replace you in that capacity and assume command." His voice rang with the power of his new authority.

"Captain Hyk, take Admiral Drummer into custody.
If he resists, shoot him."

Drummer switched off the communications console and turned to face Hyk.

"And you, Har, you're a Plutonian and should understand, better than most where the real treachery lies. You've seen Narval's psychic probes placed on board and must have suspected what they and Scarf's troops aboard must mean. Think, man. Tell me I can count on you."

"I'm an officer in the service of President Narval," Hyk growled, "and I remain loyal to him. I accept that Captain Yargoul has replaced you as Supreme Commander of the Combined Fleet. The Plutonian forces in this combined fleet now come under my command. Drummer; I place you under arrest. If you resist I won't hesitate to shoot you down where you are."

Hyk drew his weapon and aimed it at Drummer.

"Easy does it, Har."

Brad spoke from where he stood off to the side. Hyk shifted his focus and saw the weapon raised in Brad's grip. Reacting instinctively, he crouched and swung toward Brad, the nozzle of his gun flaring. A tight beam laced across Hyk's chest, and he crumpled to the deck. Brad slipped his gun back into its sheath.

Captain Yargoul's commanding voice blasted from the ship's loudspeakers, addressing the fleet.

"All ships' Commanders. You've heard and witnessed Admiral Drummer's treasonous statements. I am compelled, by circumstances, to assume command of the Combined Fleet. You will follow my orders; I order that any commander or crew-member who refuses to recognize my authority is to be disarmed, and imprisoned. Those who resist will be shot immediately.

"The target stands: we will move on the Slingshot Terminals and take them. I order the fleet to array itself for the assault. Unfortunately, Drummer has sabotaged our rendezvous, and we must reconstitute the assault formation. My chief navigator will issue sector orientation and vectors to each ship in the fleet so that we can form up for combat operations. Follow his orders without question."

As Yargoul spoke Brad released the clip securing the door and yanked it open. Adari rushed in and darted to the communications console, drawing a comm capsule from her tunic. She slipped the capsule into the computer slot, slapped switches and pressed keys. She looked at Brad. He nodded. Adari pressed the final key. A light flashed red; the message on the capsule went out to the fleet.

A deep voice issued from the ship's speakers: "This is Captain Yargoul's chief navigator," it began. "Here are the formation positions for each ship in our Order of Battle. Use as your reference Annex X-ray to the Slingshot Assault Plan. Comply immediately upon receipt of your ship's new coordinates. Jovian Battle Cruiser Boulder and destroyer screen to Sector Alpha, coordinates R784-212-426; Saturnian Battle Cruiser Encounter and destroyer screen to Sector Gamma, coordinates R784-856-275; Plutonian Battle Cruisers Dragon and Tiger and screen to Sector Beta, coordinates…"

Adari grinned at Drummer who was staring at her.

"Lucked out," she said. "Yargoul brought his chief navigator along to Brad's planning meeting off Neptune. His voice was on our tapes, and easy to synthesize. Even Yargoul himself won't know the difference. The capsule is transmitting orders to each ship of the fleet to move to new coordinates in a three-dimensional tract. This redeployment will get them so screwed up it'll take 'em a while to even figure out which way is sunside."

"But how did you know events would develop just this way?"

Adari winked; tapped her temple with her forefinger.

"Just put myself in their place, and figured the options," she said and turned to Brad.

"Do you have all the data on where you've sent them?" Brad asked.

Adari patted her pocket and nodded.

"Figured we'd need the information. Run a copy for each fighter. Meet us on the flight deck."

Drummer snatched up Hyk's weapon as he followed
Adari who raced out of the bridge compartment.
Brad motioned Drummer to join Adari.

Brad followed and pulled the door closed behind him. He drew his sidearm, narrowed the beam to its minimum and its power to maximum. He directed the beam into the space between the door and the frame. Within seconds the door had fused shut. The Dragon's bridge, at least for the moment, was isolated.

##

Hodak crouched behind a massive generator at the bend of an L-shaped corridor. The rapid-fire beam rifle in his hands was energized and safety off. The passageway had a single entry to the bay in which Scarf and his troops were quartered. Hodak had a free field of fire. He did not expect a long wait.

Drummer's appeal to the fleet commanders cut into the talk and laughter rolling down the corridor. Drummer's opening words brought complete silence. Long before it ended Hodak heard shouts and curses from the bay. Scarf's heavy voice rose above the clamor, giving orders. Hodak drew breath, raised and leveled the weapon. He hoped Scarf would come out first; that would simplify his job.

Scarf did not. Instead, armed troops spilled from the bay, crowding the passageway. Scarf followed, his coarse features congested.

"There's five of 'em, plus Drummer," he shouted. "Search the ship. You know who they are. Shoot 'em on sight. I want them dead."

Hodak tried to draw a bead on Scarf but troopers blocked the line of fire. Several started in his direction. He cut a swath through them, searching for Scarf.

The first streaks of concentrated energy wrought havoc in the forward ranks. The stench of burning flesh came at him with a rush, and the corridor reverberated with howls and screeches of agony. Unaware of what they were up against, the troops milled about in confusion. They clawed at each other in panic to get back into the bay and out of the line of fire. Scarf was somewhere in the struggle.

The tiny receiver in Hodak's ear came alive.

"Sentinels. Flight deck. Now."

Hodak directed a final lengthy barrage of rifle bursts at the entry. Molten metal and sparks bounced off the frames in all directions, followed by screams and shrieks from inside the compartment.

"Unfinished business," Hodak muttered as he turned and raced off.

Chapter FORTY-TWO

The watch was changing on the flight deck. Up ahead Brad saw three guards and two technicians entering to take their posts; moments later an equal number came out and disappeared down a companionway. Ship's crew strolled the passageways and on business in and out of maintenance shops, or engrossed in discussions with companions about Drummer's appeal.

Few noticed Brad or his companions; those who did gave them a passing glance and moved on. The ship was preparing for action, and armed, suited-up crews were to be expected.

Brad signaled a pause. Adari, in flight gear as the others were, joined them and stood with Kumiko laughing and talking through open visi-plates. Hodak, against a bulkhead, held a maintenance manual, slowly flipping pages, apparently reading. Brad and Drummer moved short distances along the corridor, seemingly in thoughtful conversation. The scene reflected routine.

The traffic thinned momentarily. Brad looked quickly along the corridor and motioned. They converged toward the companionway leading to the flight deck.

Brad entered first, followed by Hodak, Adari, Drummer and Kumiko. Inside, Kumiko swung the hatch shut and dogged it.

Myra, pressed into a corner against the far bulkhead by the Chief of the Flight Deck, smiled up at him, eyes wide. Big and chunky, he talked fast, trying to convince her of something that he obviously believed was good for both of them.

Seeing Brad appear at the head of the companionway, Myra pushed the hulk away with one hand and drew her weapon with the other. Before he knew what was happening, the fleshy man with the high hopes was flat on the deck, out of it.

Stooping and pointing, Myra circled toward Brad.

"Two, there, rifles." In another direction. "One, on the catwalk, rifle." Over her shoulder. "Two in the control room, sidearms, but they may have rifles stashed close by. Fighters on the cats, ready to go but still on control room switches."

Brad snapped out orders.

"Hodak and Kumiko, control room. Switch the fighters to self-launch. Adari, the guy on the catwalk. Myra and Drummer, suit up and into the first ship."

Hodak and Kumiko charged into the control room before Brad finished speaking. Red and orange flashes and a clatter erupted through the doorway, followed by silence. Hodak and Kumiko tore out, bent low, splitting to right and left. They carried rifles raised into firing position.

Adari, eyes and gun elevated, skirted the fighters.

"What the hell's goin' on down there?" The shout came from a guard on a balcony above. "Who're you guys?"

That's all it took. Shots followed each other closely. The guard fell slowly in the ship's light pseudo-gravity.

Hodak ran to join Brad. Kumiko headed for the fighters to switch the catapults' activators to internal controls, arm and charge the guns, and insert into each ship's computer the capsules Adari had passed to her.

A guard darted by Brad and took cover behind a line of massive consoles. A succession of rifle blasts cracked through the air close above Brad. Crouching, he raised his weapon and fired. The guards would be difficult to get at.

"Down, Brad, flat."

Hodak's hoarse whisper carried from two meters behind Brad. As he ducked a soft swishing sound sliced above his head. Glints of light sparkled from a curved, shiny object. Seconds later, the boomerang returned, wetly red.

"Go, Brad."

Hodak wiped and collapsed the boomerang and slipped it into a sheath along the thigh of his space suit.

Motioning Hodak forward to climb into the nearest fighter, Brad followed. The others, already in place, were racing through their checklists.

Brad began his preflight as he switched his comm to 'on'.

"Myra, Drummer, do you read?"

"Loud and clear."

"Adari-Kumiko?"

"Right."

"Kumiko, did you fix our inter-ship comm the way
Zolan told you to?"

"Fixed. They'll have to search and analyze dozens of scramble channels to find and fix on ours. We have a private and moving channel."

"OK. Check suits. Batten down and seal up. Now hear this."

Brad stroked control panel keys, switches and levers as he talked.

"Call signs: Hodak and I are One; Adari and Kumiko, you're Two, and Myra and Drummer, Three. The job is to keep 'em confused and stumbling over each other for as long as we can, and hope for the best. The capsule Adari slipped into your computer has the coordinates and formation we hope they've assumed. By now they're well into the faked redeployment. We're dealing in seconds, minutes if we're lucky.

"The deployment we triggered concentrates them in three sectors: Alpha, Beta, Gamma. Hodak and I will take Alpha, Adari and Kumiko, you've got Beta; Myra and Drummer to Gamma. Your sector coordinates are in the capsule; use standard locks to interface the coordinates with your ship's flight controls. Go for command decks, weapons control centers, thrusters or other vitals where disabling is money. Try for battle cruisers, but don't ignore other targets of opportunity. Keep your explosive decompressors and laser-quads at max. Talk as you work so we all know what's happening. Go."

The signals from Brad's control panel had their effect. The rushing sound of escaping air told them the huge portal was opening. Within seconds the battlefield stretched before them.

Brad hit the catapult release. The ship lunged forward. As it cleared the flight deck, Brad maxed the thrusters. Hodak glanced back over his shoulder.

"Two and Three are clear," he announced.

The three fighters skewed sharply toward their assigned sectors.

"Two talking. Battle Cruiser Intruder coming up. Range: 2500 K. Destroyer screen not tight enough. Ex-decomp at max. Range: 2000 — 1000 — 400. Three second burst. On target, but about 50 meters aft the bridge. Gotta go around for another try, dammit.

"Back at 900 — 500. Incoming laser-quads. 300. Two second burst and breaking port. What do you see, Adari?"

"Made it this time, kiddo. Bridge collapsed. But move this baby's tail. I can almost feel their heat."

"Three to One. Skip to Channel C for a sec and you'll hear Scarf. They must have cleared the Dragon's bridge. He's giving orders to the P-fleet to line up for a hit at the Terminals. Looks like he wants a kind word from his boss. I'm heading back to the Dragon.

"Dragon coming up. Range: 1700 K. Spotted us.
Have incoming. You didn't down all their guns, Kumiko.
Lousy shooters, though. At 1400 — 700 — 300.
Decomp on sustained — Five second burst. Passing
over. What's the word, Myra?"

"Their stern sucked a lemon. Totaled. Hold it. Fighter catapulted off the flight deck. It's closing with a Dragon screen destroyer. Get back to 'Channel C', it may be Scarf talking."

He was.

"Major Scarf to Destroyer Viper. I'm coming aboard and taking command of the Planet Pluto Assault Force. Notify all Plutonian units to be ready to attack the Terminals and inflict maximum damage. Those orders come directly from President Narval. I'll lay out the attack formation as soon as I'm aboard."

"Two to One. Hear that? The fighter has matched up and I see Scarf in transfer."

A momentary silence.

"Comin' round the bend and linin' up. They see us and know we ain't their lovers. Destroyer had to stabilize to bring Scarf aboard; now they're hustlin'. I'll give 'em the nose decomps, as we slip under. 500 kay — 350 — decomps on — goin' under."

"Blowout — they're gone. Hey, Hodak, takes care of your buddy."

"He was no buddy of mine. OK, Two. Move it, Brad."

Brad searched for the Windstorm, Yargoul's battle cruiser, now the combined fleet's flagship. Two and Three had scored hits in the tight field, significantly diminishing the fleet's capabilities. If the Windstorm could be taken out, or even damaged, the enemy fleet's command-and-control would be seriously degraded.

Two destroyers converged on Brad from 11 and 1 o'clock. Brad switched to their channel.

Brad reacted instinctively. His feet slammed footpads as his arms and hands yanked and twisted the other controls. The sensitive fighter corkscrewed and hurtled away just as laser-quad beams from both destroyers crossed where he had been a fraction of a second before. Jiggling reversers and thrusters, he space-skidded into a tight half circle and dived under the closest ship. Killer beams tracked him but the arc couldn't catch up.

Passing under, Hodak cut loose with his laser-quads, raking laterally across the destroyer's underside. At the close range the damage was devastating. The destroyer split apart along the shock line with a silent, flaming explosion.

Brad spun the ship about and fired the bow explosive decompressor at the other destroyer. The destroyer crumpled into a twisted mass of metal.

Veering off, Brad searched his instruments for signs of battle cruisers. Hoping for a lead, he flipped the switch to Channel C and caught the tail end of a transmission: "…enemy formation is now changing course to close with us. They are centered on coordinates H010 and V210. Distance: 5 point 2 million kilometers, closing fast. Tracking, and will report. This is Lieutenant Asto, Commander of Titan Patroller Group. Out."

Brad felt a surge of elation. Drummer reached across the intervening space and pounded his shoulder. Was it possible? The next voice on Channel C dispelled his doubts.

"This is Fleet Commander Yargoul to all Commanders of the INOR Combined Fleet. UIPS battle fleet has just emerged from behind a comm screen sunside of Planet Pluto. The screen was erected to keep the Logistics Depot and the Slingshot work site from communicating with their government during this operation. Unfortunately, it also kept us from messages dispatched by our own headquarters. The UIPS fleet is still out of range, but closing fast. All INOR ships accelerate transition into battle formations and stations. Point for convergence is coordinate H010-V210. Attention: Commander of Plutonian Destroyer Group Two. Have one of your squadrons remain in this sector and to take out the interceptors that have been harassing our fleet and then catch up with us. Out."

Chapter FORTY-THREE

"One to Two and Three."

Brad quickly briefed the Sentinels on the transmissions. It brought a grunt from Hodak, a sigh of relief from Myra, a squeal of delight from Kumiko, and a sarcastic "Well, it's about time," from Adari.

"Brad." It was Drummer's voice.

"Yes?"

"This conversation confirms feelings I've had since we joined forces against Narval, but I'd like to ask the question nevertheless."

"No need to, Drummer. I was going to tell you at the first opportunity after you made your appeal to the ships' Commanders. Your feelings were right: we're all members of a UIPS team sent to Planet Pluto to keep Narval, and anyone else, from interfering with Slingshot. Our job is far from finished."

Drummer lapsed into silence.

"Shouldn't we give our side a rundown on what's happening?" Myra asked.

"To do that we'd have to use unsecured channels,"
Brad replied.

"As soon as we do that we're in the open. Yargoul will get a fix on us, and pick us off with their long-range particle beamers. Right now we're specks in a crowded and still disorganized field, and that's our only protection. These fighters are Plutonian, and that's part of our cover."

"Well, look," Adari sounded frustrated. "We've been carrying the ball for quite a spell. Our folks are here and ready to take over. We know where they're at; let's give 'em our report in person. Then, maybe, I can wash my hair. I feel a mess."

"This fleet still has a helluva lot of firepower left." Hodak's voice was grim and brusque. "We're right among 'em. We're 'point' for our side."

"You're right," Brad said. "Our job has changed: we're eyes and ears for our people, even while we're running interference. It's not over for us until the fleets are within range of each other, and then we'd damn well better be out of the way."

He paused to scan the arena, and added: "I'll break into 'clear' in two minutes to give our people a sitrep. Don't waste time on the INOR squadron they're leaving behind to get us off their back. Head for the UIPS fleet in two minutes. Hold outside of their perimeter until I find out what they need from us. If you run into Yargoul's fleet along the way, shoot first."

"Three to One. Comin' up on a cruiser. The protective screen on this one is tightenin' up and it'll be a hard nut to crack. Got me a tail-end charlie minesweeper. I'll give it a try. At 1300 kay — 800 — 400. Two seconds burst right up the thrusters. Gone. They've marked us. We got laser-quads incoming. Into e-e-e-v-a-a-sive. Man, this baby's got speed. Out of it. OK, One and Three. They're organized again and sure as hell know we're jabbin' at 'em. Ain't gonna be easy to get outta here."

"Two here. I hear you, Three. Got a couple of destroyers off my starboard bow. Coming around for a nose job. We're marked. Got incoming, lots of it. At 1200 — 800 — 300. Two sec…"

Silence.

"One to Two. Come in."

Silence.

A guttural howl of anguish tore through Brad's earphone. Myra.

"I'm heading over, Brad," she screamed, her voice hoarse and breaking.

Brad didn't stop her, nor did he want to.

The battle cruiser Windstorm, surrounded by its destroyer screen, was in sight. Brad weighed his chances on getting close enough for an effective shot.

Studying the scene, Brad did not, at first, see the gray sphere separate from the Windstorm and plunge ahead. Hodak did, paled, and pointed wordlessly. Brad stared at the sphere. His heart pounded.

The Windstorm had launched a guided fusion warhead.
The target was obvious.

Brad knew the warhead's capabilities from the Neptune briefings. The Windstorm carried a K12, a fifteen meter-diameter warhead capable of destroying a natural minor satellite or a large populated colony. The bomb's mass was such that a heavy cruiser could carry no more than one. One was all that would be needed to decide the battle. The fireball had a two thousand-kay radius, and the piggybacked neutronic dispenser, once the cloud was released by the detonation, would inflict radiation death throughout tens of thousands of kay in all directions.

The UIPS fleet faced annihilation, as did Slingshot.

Brad reacted instinctively. He jerked his ship around and pumped max thrust after the speeding warhead.

A second later his mind snapped back from its momentary panic.

"One to Three." He recounted the facts. "If Two has survivors get them on board, or lash them to the sides, or whatever makes sense. Then catch up with us at max and give us a hand.

"These warheads are coated against detection in the old stealth style. I've got to warn our fleet what's coming so they can go evasive as much as they can. Our fleet's break from course or formation will mess up any tactics they have in mind. They won't have time to form up even if they do escape the blast and radiation zones. Firing at the warhead won't help, even at close range. It's wrapped in so many layers of armor even particle-beamers can't penetrate, so I don't know what our explosive decompressors and laser-quads can do. But we've got to try."

##

Two was a twisted, gray mass in a slow tumble when Three drew close. Myra reduced power in her ship's magnetic beams and directed them at the wreck until it stabilized. She maneuvered until the ships touched. The beams held.

Myra pushed the canopy clear, climbed out, and crawled forward. She grasped a jagged projection on the wreck, swung aboard, and stared into what had been the control pit. She turned away and returned to her ship without looking at Drummer. Laser quads left little organic residue.

##

Brad switched to standard communications channels and keyed in his identity. In a moment they were switched to a channel closed to outsiders.

"Sentinel One to UIPS Fleet Comm Center.
Acknowledge."

The reply was swift.

"UIPS Comm to Sentinel One. We read."

"Sentinel One. Flash Immediate. Must talk to Fleet
Commander. Fleet in extreme and immediate danger.
Now, partner, now."

"Selvin here."

"Sentinel One. Enemy Battle Cruiser Windstorm has launched a K12 fusion warhead. I do not question the warhead's vector; expect that its mass attractors and proximity fuses are set to your fleet's coordinates.

"I am overtaking the warhead and will try to neutralize. Forcing a change in warhead direction with my ship is not possible; the warhead's mass and guidance system exceeds by far any pressure my fighter can exert. Suggest you consider evasive action; will advise further if neutralization accomplished."

The warning had been given. There was no time for talk. The warhead was less than a hundred meters ahead, and closing.

Drummer tapped Brad on the shoulder and pointed.
Two was coming up.

Cold sweat drenched Brad's forehead and drained into his eyes. He blinked, shook his head to clear his vision, and increased airflow in his suit.

"Brad," Myra's voice, fast. "Can we detonate it with our guns from here? At this extremely close range the concentrations of laser-quads and explosive decompress energy by both of us at a single point might disable some part of the warhead or set it off."

"It would take too much time to cut through. I've got another idea. If it doesn't work, we won't have enough time to try anything else. Hodak, take the controls and get the ship as close to the bomb as you can, go for less than a meter from the warhead's surface. Hold and orbit slowly, nose close to the warhead so that I can scope the surface. I'll tell you when to stop. Myra, keep close above in my line-of-sight. Hodak, strap on your tool kit."

Hodak maneuvered the ship close and set a pattern that covered the sphere methodically. Brad opened the canopy, and directed the ship's beacon at the bland, gray surface. Seconds passed; the bomb's gray coating was unbroken. Or was it?

"Stop," Brad ordered.

He pointed to a barely visible circular crack half a meter across.

"Myra. Get closer. Use your attractors to stabilize and hold position. Give me a hand, Hodak."

Brad climbed over the side. The light gravity-enhancer soles of his space boots provided barely enough adherence to the warhead's surface. Sliding, he made his way to the finely marked circle, Hodak close behind.

"Access to the calibration cavity," Brad said as he stooped, shed his outer glove, and felt around the mating edge. "The bomb has to have a place to insert fuse and trajectory data and fine tune the initial settings. The well is closed with a plug as thick as the armor, and it's rotated into place. The plug's outer coating is the same composition as on the rest of the casing. Cut a radial slot along the edge of the cover. We'll push to rotate the cover counter-clockwise; it'll take both of us to work it loose."

"Why not cut out the entire plug?"

"Too much time. The shell is too thick."

Hodak grunted, withdrew a cutting tool from his kit and after much effort formed a shallow, slanted groove in the well cover. A heavy metal pry bar came next. Squatting, he forced the flat end into the notch and pushed. The energy to push forced his body in the opposite direction.

"Closer, Myra."

At arm's length, and the ship immobilized by its mags, Hodak braced his back against the fuselage and tried again. He felt the bar bottom in the notch.

Brad squatted beside Hodak and, using the fighter's mass to steady themselves, they pushed. The pressure scraped the plug's surface, but remain fast. They made a fresh cut, braced themselves, and pushed, sweat pouring from their faces. Very slowly, the plug gave way, eventually the surface rose slightly above the warhead's surface. More cuts, and a finger hold. The plug rose a bit more. It seemed minutes before their hands could grasp it firmly.

They unscrewed the plug. It drifted away.

"When Ram had our skulls crammed with all that raw data I thought this was garbage we'd never have to use," Brad said. "I think a lot differently now. Myra, hold the mags tight and be ready to break away as soon as I give you the word."

Lying on his side directly above the opening he inserted his arm and shoulder into the well as far as he could. Inside the cavity he located knobs and keypads by touch. At random, Brad twirled the knobs, pressed the keys, and opened and closed switches. After a brief wait, he tore several wire connections loose.

"Working in the dark like this has disadvantages," he grunted.

Withdrawing his arm he slipped his outer glove back on. Hastily they climbed back aboard their fighter.

"Go! Myra. Go!"

Both craft whirled away.

"The warhead's computer assessed and integrated my random inputs," Brad said. "The solution should change its flight path or, for all we know, reset the switches for the proximity fuses so that our ships' mass and proximity sets the bomb off. Let's get as far away as we can before it all comes together and whatever's going to happen happens."

The two fighters headed toward the UIPS fleet. Barely beyond the fatal radiation zone the now distant warhead detonated. The fireball looked as huge as the Sun from Venus.

Brad opened the communications channel.

"Sentinel One to UIPS Fleet Comm Center. We're approaching in two Plutonian fighters from the direction of the blast. Be ready to receive; we're coming in. Acknowledge."