This Day All Gods Die (54 page)

"I have her on targ," Mikka muttered in a worn growl.

"I can hit her whenever you want."

Ciro was her brother. She may have understood better than anyone what the mutagen Sorus Chatelaine had suffered and used could do.

But Min ignored the apprehension around her. She might have forgotten that fear existed. "Put it on the speakers," she told Cray quietly. "And keep me off that channel. I'm busy with Center. Ensign Hyland will speak for the ship."

Good God, Davies thought. She was serious. She was going to keep her word.

"Aye, Director," Cray answered. Her hands shook feverishly as she tapped keys; brought the speakers to life in a muted crackle of thrust static.

Morn took a deep breath; braced herself—

A man's voice carried firmly through the distortion.

"Punisher, this is Warden Dios." He spoke as if nothing could prevent him from being clear. "I'm aboard Calm Horizons. You already know that.

"Min? Dolph?"

Davies had never heard the UMCP director's voice before. Nevertheless the sound stirred Morn's memories of him.

He felt an odd thrill, as if he'd been touched by the call of a trumpet. Warden's power to inspire loyalty, dedication, and faith—

or Morn's ingrained response to it—

reached him across

the gap between his experience and hers.

In spite of everything, the director's convictions and commitments defined the UMCP for Davies; gave substance to the honorable work of being a cop. Something in his heart turned at the call of Warden's voice.

I think we should try to rescue him. Yes.

I still trust him.

Apart from Morn, he may have been the only one on the bridge who reacted in that way. Captain Ubikwe sank deeper into his g-seat; bowed his head as if he wanted to hide the shame of losing his command. Patrice attended to his duties, as focused and constricted as Mikka. Porson made a show of studying his sensors and readouts; but Bydell sat at the data station as if she were paralyzed by worry. Glessen clenched his fists and remained rigid, swearing to himself.

At the communications station, Min had resumed her exchange with Center as if she no longer cared what Warden might say. Davies envied her composure; her concentration.

He couldn't match them. His nerves rang as if he were stuck in a carillon.

With a stiff flinch of her shoulders, Morn toggled the command station pickup. "Director Dios—

" Her voice

caught. She grimaced in dismay at her weakness; swallowed to moisten her throat. "This is Morn Hyland. Aboard Punisher.

I'm in command."

For a moment Warden didn't react. Static filled his silence with ambiguity: he might have been hiding behind it. Then he pronounced carefully, "Did I hear you right? You're Ensign Morn Hyland? Off Starmaster?" His tone sharpened. "And you're in command?'

Apparently he hadn't discussed Punisher with Center. Or Hashi Lebwohl.

"Yes, sir." Morn lifted her head; squared her jaw. "My father was Captain Davies Hyland. But I don't think of myself as an 'ensign' now. I resigned my commission when I joined Captain's Fancy.

"I took command outside the Massif-5 system. Director Donner and Captain Ubikwe are here. No one's been hurt."

Grimly she finished, "But I make the decisions for this ship."

Her tone said, Don't try to give me orders. I don't take them anymore.

Again Warden answered with silence. He may have been shocked. When he replied, however, distortion and distance conveyed the impression that all his emotions had been locked away.

"Forgive me, Morn. I've had too many surprises recently.

It's difficult to absorb them all.

"I've just been informed that you did this once before.

Took over a ship you had no business commanding." He didn't explain; but Vestabule must have told him how she'd forced Enablement to return Davies, after Nick had traded her son away for gap drive components. "Obviously you're good at it."

Vestabule must have explained how she'd extorted Davies' return.

"I won't ask what you think you're doing," the UMCP

director went on. "We don't have time to go into it. But under the circumstances I can't take your word for it that Min and Dolph are safe."

"They haven't suffered anything worse than a few insults." To Davies Morn sounded as impersonal, as concealed, as Warden did. "You can confirm that if you want to. But you can't talk to Director Donner. She's busy. I've given her permission to serve as Acting UMCP Director in your absence. In exchange, she's ordered Captain Ubikwe not to interfere with me."

This time Warden didn't pause. "Can they hear me?"

"I'm using the bridge speakers, Director," Morn returned acerbically. "We can all hear you."

From now on, nobody has any secrets.

"Dolph?" Warden's distorted voice asked promptly.

"Are you all right?"

Captain Ubikwe opened his mouth to reply, then closed it.

Deliberately he looked at Morn for permission.

She glanced toward him over her shoulder and nodded.

"No, Director, I'm not all right." Dolph's deep tones thrummed with bitterness. "Nothing is all right. But I don't know what to do about that. I don't even know how we got into this mess. All I can tell you is that for the past few days we've been making decisions that seemed reasonable at the time."

"I'm sure they were," Warden responded as if he were promising a pardon. "I'm not worried about that. I'm just glad for a chance to hear your voice.

"Morn," he continued, "is Angus with you? Can he hear me?"

Angus cocked his head in surprise. The muscles at the corners of his jaw bunched.

Davies winced inwardly. For reasons he couldn't name, he feared hearing Warden invoke Angus' priority-codes. The resonance of loyalty and idealism in Warden's voice held him.

He was sick of coercion: he didn't want to hear Warden try it.

But if Morn felt the same way, she didn't show it. "Yes, Director." Her tone hinted at acid and blood. "Everyone from Trumpet who's still alive is here."

Warden didn't ask her who'd died. Apparently he wasn't interested. "Angus?" he asked. "It's good you made it this far. You've done well." He waited, obviously hoping for a reply. When Angus didn't give him one, he pursued, "Are you all right?"

Morn faced Angus gravely; gave him the same nod she'd given Dolph. Pain and need darkened her gaze.

Angus unclenched his jaw. "That depends," he growled,

"on what you order me to do."

Davies clenched his fist on Min's gun because he couldn't reach his sore heart and made a conscious effort not to hold his breath.

A sigh came from the speakers. Now Warden's voice hinted at weariness; the accustomed fatigue of loss. "I'm not going to do that. I'm sure Min already tried it. If Morn is in command there, I assume you've found a way around your priority-codes.

"We talked about that once," he added obscurely.

He must also have assumed that Nick was no longer a factor. An easy deduction: if Nick had retained control over Angus, the situation aboard Punisher would have been completely different.

Slowly Angus raised his hands to his face, rubbed at his sweat-grimed cheeks. "In that case," he retorted, "no, I'm not all right either. The fat man isn't as stupid as he looks. None of us are all right. The difference is, I'm the only one who knows what we're really doing here."

What we're—

? Davies gaped at Angus —

really doing?

What was he talking about?

"Which is?" Warden asked warily.

Angus didn't hesitate. As if he were passing sentence, he pronounced heavily, "We're waiting for you to keep at least one of your promises. I'm sure every one of us has a candidate in mind. Personally, I want to see you keep the one where you stop the crime you've done to me."

Morn's eyes widened involuntarily, and Davies caught his breath. Like her, he hadn't considered the possibility that Warden might have made promises to Angus as well.

Angus was right: in spite of his truculence and his refusals, he'd named the truth.

"I'm considering it," Warden drawled across the gap between the ships. "I haven't made a decision yet. I don't know enough about the situation."

"Well, while you're 'considering it,' " Angus retorted,

"let me tell you what we're considering.

"We want to know what kind of mutagen Vestabule gave you."

Warden sighed again. "Don't worry about it," he returned. "I have a suicide pill in my mouth. I'll bite it open if I have to." Firmly he added, "I'm not particularly eager to turn into an Amnioni."

Davies believed him. He was starting to feel capable of suicide himself. And the UMCP director's voice carried conviction, despite the intervening distortion. Morn had spent most of her life believing implicitly in Warden Dios. Now Davies felt that he simply could not doubt anything Warden said.

That made his own position harder to bear. It was easier when he was full of outrage.

Morn pulled her hands through her hair, resisting the persuasion of her memories; tugging at her scalp to remind herself that the cops were corrupt.

"Why are you telling us this, Director Dios?" she asked unsteadily. "What's your point? I've already said I don't consider myself a cop anymore. I'm not under your authority.

Whatever we decide to do isn't going to depend on whether or not you have a suicide pill."

"I recognize that," Warden replied at once. The pressure of his position aboard Calm Horizons seemed to urge him ahead. "But I want you to recognize who you're talking to.

I'm not some Amnion pawn you can afford to ignore. I'm Warden Dios, and I'm trying to do my job."

By an exertion of self-discipline so severe that it appeared to make her shiver, Min kept her attention fixed on her PCR

and pickup; on Center.

Do my job, Davies nodded helplessly. Save Suka Bator.

UMCPHQ. A few million lives. How could he argue with that? How could he hold back from offering to sacrifice himself? Didn't he think those lives were worth what he would have to pay for them?

But Morn wasn't swayed. "I'm sorry, Director Dios. I'm afraid I just don't understand." She may have meant, Which promise are you trying to keep? "Why are you aboard that ship? How can you do your job if you're a hostage?

"What makes you think negotiating with the Amnion won't cost us more than we can possibly afford?"

Her words may have stung Warden. "You don't need to understand it, Morn," he responded with unexpected vehemence. "What you need to understand is that the Amnion are going to destroy Suka Bator, UMCPHQ, your ship, and anything else they can aim their guns at if we don't give them what they want.

"And after that what's left of us will be at war with forbidden space. All-out war. Wholesale slaughter. My God, Morn," he finished brutally, "we're talking about enough blood to drown a planet. Try understanding that."

She covered the misery on her face with her hands.

"Don't drag it out, Director," she breathed. "Tell us what it means. So we'll know what we're up against."

"All right," Warden consented grimly. "I'll put it in plain language for you.

"The Amnion consider Davies Hyland their rightful property. They want him returned to Calm Horizons. In addition, as compensation for an act of war committed against Thanatos Minor, they want Angus Thermopyle, Vector Shaheed, and you. If the four of you don't come here and surrender yourselves, the defensive is going to open fire."

His words restored the full force of Davies' dilemma.

Calm Horizons wanted him.

In subtle ways the terms of his decision had shifted. The visceral throb of loyalty he felt whenever Warden spoke seemed to alter the valence of the emergency. Involuntarily he forgot Warden's crimes. Yet his fear remained, appalling and paralyzing him. The demands of the Amnion pressed him toward a gap he didn't know how to cross.

Without realizing that he'd moved, he found himself standing in front of Min Donner as if she held the clue he needed; the hint which would unlock him from his impasse.

The truth—

She hardly glanced at him, however. Although she seemed to hear everything that was said around her, she concentrated like a hawk on the pickup at her throat and the PCR

in her ear.

Angus started to say something; but Morn silenced him with a cutting gesture. She faced a dilemma of her own: distinct from her son's, but no less arduous.

"What about you, Director Dios?" she asked thickly.

"What do you want?"

The speakers crackled. "You've said more than once that you don't consider yourself bound to take my orders." Warden spoke slowly, precisely, as if he were suppressing a vast need.

"If you did, I would order you to comply. Since you don't, I'm trying to persuade you." Harsh with coercion, he added,

"If you refuse, I'll instruct Director Donner to take command away from you and force you to comply."

Then he went on more gently, "I don't mind paying for my own mistakes, Morn. God knows I deserve to bear the brunt of this. And you know that's true. You've learned everything you need about Intertech's mutagen immunity drug. By now you've probably heard that Angus was framed so we could pass the Preempt Act. If you have, you can figure out that we sold you to Nick so you couldn't tell anyone Angus was innocent. And the final responsibility for Calm Horizons is mine. I chose Milos Taverner to go with Angus to Billingate."

On the record Warden Dibs admitted his crimes.

"I'm dead no matter what happens, Morn. If being a hostage, or asking you to give yourselves up, is part of the price I have to pay, I'll do it. But I simply cannot let millions of innocent people be killed just because I've failed in my duty."

Min paused; turned to see how Morn would respond.

From under his dark brows, Captain Ubikwe studied Morn piercingly. Most of the duty officers neglected their boards while they waited for her answer. Even Mikka raised her head from the targ keys and readouts; looked at Morn with her face full of exhaustion and mute, baffled longing.

Angus muttered curses under his breath. Ciro gave no sign that he understood anything except his own peculiar secrets. He sat with his head back and his eye's half closed, murmuring softly to himself. But Vector listened with pain in his eyes and lines of loss around his mouth.