This Day All Gods Die (72 page)

Center, Director Lebwohl can have a channel to Suka Bator when I say so. Not before. Tell him to start the instant I give the word.

The delay would infuriate him. Nevertheless she believed he would do his part. She'd learned a new respect for him when he'd resigned as acting director.

Stand by to relay targ priority changes, she ordered. All ships. All guns.

Rapid as automatic fire, she coded new commands. Dazed with exertion, Cray transmitted them for her.

The response was immediate.

Center on two. Are these priorities right, Director? She heard hints of hysteria. Are you serious?

She showed Center how serious she was. Do it, she snapped grimly. Then get me a channel to Calm Horizons.

Almost at once her PCR shot a burst of confusion into her ear.

Valor on four. Adventurous on one. Flash Attack on five.

Reconfirm targ priorities!

Center on three. Calm Horizons, Director? Please confirm.

She was still waiting for a transmission link to the Amnioni when the countdown in her head told her that the time had come for Morn to stop.

FEA. Len won't let you

tackle her yet. He's being too damn protective. But you'll get your chance when she's done.

After no more than a moment, several of the votes shot their hands into the air. Despite Holt's warning, Cleatus wanted to ask her, Why the hell do you need time? But he was too angry to wave his arm for permission to speak like a goddamn school kid.

For no apparent reason, Len indicated Silat. "Senior Member Punjat Silat," he announced formally to Hyland,

"Combined Asian Islands and Peninsulas."

Ponderous with superiority and heart trouble, Silat climbed to his feet. "Ensign Hyland," he offered sanctimo-niously, "I will not delay you by describing how profoundly I admire your resourcefulness and courage. However, we must be clear on essential matters.

"Why does Calm Horizons pursue you? Why are the Amnion willing to risk a war in order to stop you?"

Morn had her answer ready. Unfortunately Cleatus felt sure she would support Hannish's accusations.

"They know we have an antimutagen. They know we're willing to broadcast it. They want to silence us if they can.

"And they want Davies." The strain in her voice gave the impression that she held her arms locked over her chest.

"They were surprised by the results when he was force-grown."

In fatigue and ire she explained, "Simply turning a fetus into a physiologically mature organism isn't enough. The new child needs a mind. Something to take the place of years of development. With their own kind, they imprint the mind of the host on the offspring. I guess it works for them. But in the past it hasn't worked for human beings. When they tried it, they lost the host. Apparently having your mind copied makes you insane. I think it's a fear reaction.

"But I didn't go insane when my mind was copied. My zone implant protected me. I had the control with me.

"They knew I had an implant. They could tell. But I guess they never thought of using one that way. They don't understand how fear affects humans." She signed. "So now they think maybe they can use zone implants to let them copy human minds onto Amnion. Or Amnion minds onto humans.

And they want to study Davies to find out how successful the imprinting was."

Several of the sheep bleated aloud. Her explanation seemed more plausible than Hannish's bald statement earlier: it made the idea of Amnion that could pass as human look real. But Silat received the information as if it were only of academic interest. "Thank you, Ensign Hyland," he said impersonally as he sank into his chair. "A fascinating insight."

The smug bastard was probably planning his next mono-graph.

Damn it, Cleat, Holt insisted harshly, I want that kid!

He's perfect. I can make a deal—

As soon as I get the chance, Cleatus promised. After I've torn her apart, even these morons will vote to decharter.

His grip on his bowels was so tight it made his chest hurt.

More hands. Len had reduced the Council to a kindergar-ten class.

His choices made no sense. He recognized Vest Martingale as if he felt sorry for her tarnished constituency; announced her to the room pickups.

Martingale stood up. "Ensign Hyland, where is Captain Succorso now? Can we talk to him? His side of the story might shed some light."

Com-Mine was blamed everywhere for the passage of the Preempt Act. Martingale wanted to know what Succorso might say about Hashi Lebwohl and Milos Taverner.

"Captain Succorso is dead," Hyland answered flatly.

That was a blow to Martingale's desire for vindication.

"Dead?" she demanded. "What happened to him?"

"Member Martingale—

" The woman sounded tired of

trying to account for herself. "When we left Deaner Beckmann's lab, we were under attack by Amnion surrogates and mercenaries. Captain Thermopyle used a singularity grenade to turn the battle. But Captain Succorso and Sib Mackern had left the ship to attempt an EVA ambush. As far as I know, they both died in the black hole."

"Wait a minute," Martingale shot back. "Captain Succorso left the ship? After you made him prisoner?"

Cleatus hoped devoutly that Hyland would admit she'd had Succorso murdered.

No such luck. "The ambush was his idea," she retorted.

"He thought he could damage one of the ships we were fighting, an Amnion surrogate. And he had as much to lose as we did. We let him try." For a moment her voice seemed to ache in the gap between her pickup and the Council's speakers.

"Sib Mackern went along to make sure he didn't turn on us."

Martingale bit her lip in disappointment. "Thank you, Ensign Hyland." She sat down heavily.

Another flurry of hands. The sheep seemed to thrive on being treated like children.

Len surprised Cleatus by nodding to Igensard. "Special Counsel Maxim Igensard," he told Hyland, "in proxy for Eastern Union Senior Member Sen Abdullah."

Igensard jumped up so fast he almost tripped himself.

The misguided idiot probably wanted to redeem his credibility.

"Ensign Hyland," he began as if he meant to sneer but had forgotten how, "you've had time to study the situation.

You've talked to Director Donner." They'd had plenty of opportunity to decide on a story. "You said—

I assume you were

telling the truth—

the transmission you received from Punisher included two sets of contradictory instructions. In retrospect, how do you account for that?"

He must have struck a nerve. Morn snapped, "Special Counsel, I've come too far to waste my time lying to you."

But she didn't refuse to answer his question.

"The orders that gave Captain Thermopyle's codes to Nick Succorso were perfectly clear. Anybody who received that transmission would have understood them." Including, presumably, Donner herself. And Punisher. "But the programming which caused Captain Thermopyle to reveal his codes to us was encrypted. It was written in a kind of embedded machine language none of us recognized.

"We asked Director Donner if she had anything to do with it. She states that UMCPHQ's transmission was relayed exactly as the cruiser received it. Punisher's communications log confirms this.

"The transmission was coded from Warden Dios. He wrote it."

Oh, hell, Cleatus groaned in disappointment. She knew.

The damn woman had figured out what must have happened.

Why wasn't she dead, where she belonged?

As if she had the right to make such statements, she pronounced, "I believe that when Director Dios issued his plain instructions he was carrying out someone else's orders. Or he wanted to mislead someone he feared. The encrypted instructions represent his true intentions. He meant to foil whoever wished Nick Succorso to have control of Angus.

"As far as I know," she finished in a spatter of static,

"the only man in human space who can give orders to the director of the UMCP—

or threaten him—

is Holt Fasner."

Of course. Another accusation. But Cleatus didn't bother to comment on it. He knew in his guts there was worse to come.

Igensard made a desperate effort to recover his earlier righteousness. "You're speculating, Ensign Hyland," he countered. "You can't prove any of that."

"True." She was sure of herself; so sure that she didn't falter for a second. "But I can tell you this, Special Counsel.

"Captain Thermopyle has told me—

and Director Donner

has confirmed—

that DA wrote his programming explicitly to prevent him from rescuing me. I was considered dangerous because I could testify that he was framed. But I couldn't do any harm as long as I was with Nick Succorso. If he didn't kill me, someone else would. Unless Captain Thermopyle interfered.

"So why am I alive?"

She paused as if she wanted to be sure all the votes were listening. Then she said, "I'm alive because Captain Thermopyle was given new orders. Just before he was released from UMCPHQ, Warden Dios switched his datacore. His new programming included instruction-sets which required him to save me."

The bastard! Holt rasped in Cleatus' ear. So that's how he did it. I knew she must have had help.

Fiercely Hyland concluded, "The Warden Dios who wants me alive is not the same man who handed Captain Thermopyle's priority-codes to Nick Succorso. Nick would have cheerfully killed me. As soon as he could think of a way to do it with enough pain and degradation.

"I'm here telling you my story because Warden Dios made that possible."

Panting, Holt explained, He's been planning this ever since he sent Thermopyle to Billingate—

no, ever since he let

Succorso take that fucking woman off Com-Mine. By God, he started to betray me months ago!

Cleatus shook his head in dismay, appalled by the realization that Dios was so dangerous; so much more dangerous than he'd ever imagined. Even when the bastard was stuck aboard Calm Horizons, he worked through puppets like Hyland to ruin—

Igensard looked helplessly at Cleatus; but Cleatus offered him no assistance. If he couldn't think of a way to attack Hyland's assertions, that was his problem. His ambitions meant nothing to the FEA.

"None of this makes sense, Ensign," Igensard protested weakly. He was too distraught to notice that he was simply feeding her the questions she wanted; helping her score her points. "Dios has been the UMCP director for years. Why has he started countermanding his own orders now?"

"Maybe," the woman retorted at once, "this is his first real chance to show you that Holt Fasner isn't fit to be responsible for the UMCP."

Gray failure tinged Igensard's face as he slumped down into his seat.

Fit? Holt snarled into Cleatus' ear. His fury seethed like Fane's guts. She doesn't think I'm fit? If I get my hands on her, I'll teach her a thing or two about fit.

At the moment Cleatus could think of nothing he wanted in life except to help Holt crucify Hyland. The votes had been right on the edge of enacting his, Cleatus', proposal. Now he would have to start the whole process again.

Gritting his teeth to curb his exasperation, he lifted his hand like a good little boy.

Len ignored him. Goading him—

The effete twit may

have wished to provoke an eruption so he could carry out his threat to have Cleatus removed. Ing was stupidly eager to obey.

Cleatus contained his indignation as Len recognized Sixten Vertigus. At once Vertigus levered his old bones upright.

"It's an honor, Captain." Interference marred Hyland's transmission, but she sounded sincere. "I wish we could have met under other circumstances."

Inanely Vertigus flapped a hand she couldn't see. "The honor's mine, Ensign." His voice wobbled. "You're a valiant woman." With a visible effort he tightened his grip on himself until he was able to speak more steadily. "I wish I could tell you everything you've done will be worth what it cost. But none of us are sure how this mess is going to turn out."

He looked at Hannish as if he were talking to her as well as to Hyland.

"Director Hannish has told us Punisher's command module is towing Trumpet to Calm Horizons. What's going on.

Ensign? Director Dios must have reached some kind of agreement with the Amnion. We need to know what it is."

For the first time Morn hesitated. When she answered, her tone had lost some of its certainty.

"We're responding to Calm Horizons' demands."

Apparently she wasn't sure how much she could afford to let the votes know.

Her caution brought Cleatus to the edge of his seat. Instinct told him that she was about to give him the opening he needed.

Vertigus frowned. He didn't know how to take Hyland's response. "I assume you've been in contact with Director Dios."

"We've talked to him, yes," Hyland said distantly.

"Is he all right?"

Again she hesitated. "He sounds all right."

Static surrounded her words like an aura. What she said—

or what she meant—

was embedded in it. Nevertheless Cleatus thought he heard hints of distress through the distortion.

Vertigus missed them. Or he believed that what he wanted to know was more important. Instead of probing her hesitation, he rephrased his question.

"What did he tell you to do?"

"He didn't tell us to do anything." Her discomfort made her impatient; cryptic. "He relayed Calm Horizons' demands.

Now we're responding to them."

Vertigus scrubbed his face with both hands like a man trying to wake himself up. "Forgive me, Ensign. You aren't being clear. Or I'm being stupid." Bingo. "Do you mean to say Director Dios did not reach an agreement with the Amnion?"

Hyland sighed. "That's right."

"But if he didn't," the old fool protested, "who did?

Somebody must have. Isn't your command module on the way to Calm Horizons? With Trumpet?"

An instant of silence from the transmission conveyed the impression that Hyland tapped depleted reserves; summoned the last of her strength. Then she said harshly, "I did, Captain."