Confluence

CHAPTER SEVEN: EAN LAMBERT

Kari wang was in the middle of a ship check when Ean arrived with Bhaksir and Hana. Even so, she took time out to meet them at the shuttle bay.

“Touch my ship without my agreeing to what you are doing—without my knowing what you plan—and I will personally boot you off the ship.”

“Understood,” Ean said because there was nothing else she wanted to hear.

“Good.” Kari Wang turned to Bhaksir. “Keep him out of my way until I need him.”

Bhaksir looked dubiously at Ean. “Isn’t he supposed to work with you? I mean—”

She should have done what Radko would have done, which was say, “Yes, Captain,” then let Ean work anyway.

“I’ve an undercrewed ship; no one is battle trained. I don’t have the foggiest how many weapons I’ve got or how to use them. I don’t need Lambert in my way. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

Kari Wang headed back to the bridge, opening her comms as she went. “Mael, is level three secured?”

“All good,” Mael said.

Ean started after the captain.

Bhaksir hesitated. “Shouldn’t we wait till she calls us?”

“No.” Because no matter what she said, Kari Wang would expect them on the bridge soon. “Listen to the lines,” Ean said. Ship lines were a song of anticipation and calculation. “She says she’s worried.” Worry seemed to come with captaincy. “But she’s looking forward to it.”

The human lines were mostly calm—some nervous. Kari Wang had done a lot of training with these people in a very short time.

Ean sang softly to the lines as he followed the captain through the ship.

“Ready to fight,” the lines sang back, and Ean could taste the anticipation.

The alien ships were all warships. They would be used to fighting. Had that eagerness come from their prior crew or their current captain?

They reached the bridge. Kari Wang continued her checklist. She was nearly at the end, for Ean could hear the nerves and excitement.

Finally, “Dubicki?”

“Line eight is good.”

“Abascal?”

“Line seven is ready.”

“Lambert?”

“Here,” Ean said.

“Good.” She opened the comms—to Abram and to the other Eleven fleet ships. “This is the Eleven. Preparing to jump. Lambert.”

Ean started singing direct to the sevens, linking all the line sevens in the fleet, so that when they jumped through the void, they wouldn’t lose contact.

“Lambert. You have the coordinates.”

Yes, but how did he translate them to something the lines could understand? The captain usually keyed the coordinates on human machines. They didn’t have any way to set the jump on the Eleven.

He stopped singing. “We have a problem.”

The alien ships didn’t understand human references. In their practice runs, one of the human ships had always set the jump. He would have to bring one of the other fleet ships with them to set the coordinates.

He sang the comms open to the Wendell’s bridge. “Captain Wendell. I need you to come with us. I need you to set the jump.”

Captain Wendell never slept. Well, he must, but Ean seldom saw him away from his bridge. He was on the bridge now. Ean wondered if he used the lines to tell him when things were happening.

“Unarmed, into enemy territory.”

He shouldn’t have known where they were going.

“You’re not unarmed. You’ve six bombs. And we won’t be there long.”

“If we do this, I want a full complement of weapons on this ship afterward.”

It didn’t have the snap of the quick decisions Abram and Helmo made. Then, Wendell must have been planning how to get his weapons back. No doubt he’d worked out long ago all the possible ways he could do it, and this was one of them.

“I can’t promise that,” Ean said.

Kari Wang’s impatience was a wave battering at him. The Eleven joined in the chorus. “Battle.”

“Of course you can,” Wendell said. “You’re a level-twelve linesman.”

“We’ll lose our jump window soon,” Kari Wang said.

“I can’t promise weapons,” Ean said, again. “I’ll talk to Abram about it, but that’s all I can do.”

How could he explain to the Eleven where it had to jump? There would be a way to translate human coordinates into something the ship could understand. He just didn’t know what it was yet. It would be like line seven, explaining what it did, but it had taken them months to work out what it meant. He didn’t have months. He had minutes.

“A pity,” Wendell said. “What are the coordinates?”

“I haven’t promised any weapons.”

“I understand that.”

“We have two minutes left in the jump window,” Kari Wang said. She pushed the coordinates through to Wendell herself.

Ean started singing again. “Only the Eleven and the Wendell. The rest of you remain where you are.”

Underneath the song, he heard Wendell’s crisp directions. “Ship, prepare to enter the void.”

He had the usual forever in the void to check the lines. There were only two sets—the Eleven’s and the Wendell’s. That bit worked, at least. Both sets of lines were clean. Both sets anticipating what was to come.

He realized he’d forgotten to clear Wendell’s coming with Abram. He sent a hurried song back. “Wendell’s coming with us.”

Then they were back in normal space, with the chatter of the lines from the various ships in this sector, and Wendell and Kari Wang’s now-familiar relief at the safe passage through the void momentarily swamping the lines.

Kari Wang didn’t give Ean time to relax. “Find me a military ship close by.”

How was he supposed to pick a military ship from a nonmilitary one?

He sang to line five on the Eleven. He’d heard military ships before. They were nearly always busy, with information being passed through. They also contained plenty of weapons.

Kari Wang didn’t wait for an answer. She turned to her own crew. “What have we got?”

Her crew was singing, too, bringing up line-five traffic on each of the nearby ships, singing them down again when Kari Wang shook her head. Kari Wang herself was going through ships on the small human screens set around the captain’s chair.

Through the lines, Ean could hear Wendell’s crew doing the same. He sang the lines open from the Wendell to the Eleven, and vice versa. It was easier to do that than have to explain everything later.

For a while, there was no sound except the two ships’ checking off and discounting possible ships.

There had to be an easier way. Like asking. Ean raised his own voice and directed it out through line five. “Which of you have been in battle?”

He got the instant attention of fifty ships, probably more. He chose the strongest. “That one,” and pointed to it on the screen. He had no idea how far away it was.

Abascal sang the comms open.

The multiple messages going in and out made a jumble of sound. Ean concentrated on new messages, pushing them through.

“This is the GU Packard calling Weapons Supplies.”

“Go ahead, GU Packard.”

“We ordered fifty fusion warheads. You sent us heat-seeking missiles.”

“Get us a jump,” Kari Wang demanded, close to Ean’s ear. He hadn’t realized she’d moved.

He nodded. “Be ready to order a jump. Like you normally do,” and sang to the lines on the GU Packard, “We’re going to borrow your lines for a moment.” It was disorienting that he didn’t get an answer—he was used to the alien ships, which answered back—but the lines waited for him. He opened the lines to the gate station in this sector—all linesmen knew how to do that though he’d never had to request a jump before.

The clerk on duty sounded bored. “This is the Roscracia Sector Gate, what can we do for you?”

“This is the GU Packard.” Kari Wang made it crisp and military. “We require a jump to Aratoga sector 123.2143.23, effective immediately.”

“As you are aware, we are in a war situation here, and there might be a slight delay in obtaining codes. I’ll need to confirm your—”

“Just get me the jump and stop mucking around.”

Ean looked at Kari Wang. She looked back. The clerk put the line on hold—which didn’t stop Ean’s hearing it—and said, “Military. All the same. Must have it now. There’s a war on.” He took the line off hold. “Sending an identity check through now. Please reply with the correct response, or I will be unable to provide the jump.”

Ean sang the check on through the Eleven and back to the GU Packard. “Confirm it. It is correct. Send back the right code.”

For a moment, he didn’t think it would work. He changed his tune to include line eight. “Send the confirmation through.”

Something went back, and Ean held his breath until the clerk said, “Codes confirmed. Please wait while I set a jump for you.” His tone changed, to a monotonous cadence. “Please be aware that requesting an immediate jump incurs a surcharge of 200 percent. You must confirm this and accept the surcharge as part of the jump contract.” He said it like it was something he’d recited hundreds of times before.

“Accepted,” Kari Wang said.

“This acceptance must be confirmed by the officer in charge of your ship, the ship second, or the ship third.”

“I confirm as officer in charge.” Kari Wang wound her finger in front of Ean, as if wanting him to do something.

What did she want?

A signal came through then. “Please use a thumbprint and retina scan and return this as the authorizing officer.”

She held her comms up to scan her eyes, then pressed her thumb against the screen. “Sending confirmation through now.”

She sounded as if she’d done it a thousand times.

Kari Wang circled her finger at Ean again. This time he understood what she wanted. He sang the confirmation through. He didn’t route it via the other ship. All they wanted was confirmation that she was captain and that she was authorized to request this.

“Thank you, Captain. Setting your jump now.”

The clerk whistled tunelessly as he set the codes. Kari Wang twitched as they waited. Wendell paced.

Ean tuned them out. He had lines to thank. “We appreciate you letting us borrow your lines.”

The human ship lines didn’t respond in words, but he thought they were pleased to be talking to other lines.

They were so weak compared to the lines on the Eleven and the Wendell. He could hear Wendell’s boots as the pacing got faster.

Grayson, Wendell’s second-in-command, was at the comms. He moved. Ean wouldn’t have interpreted it as anything, but Wendell did and stopped.

“Enemy ships have noticed us,” he said.

“Coordinates coming through,” the clerk said, seconds later, but it felt like hours. He pushed them down line five. “Thank you, Captain Kari Wang. Have a great trip.”

“Thank you,” Kari Wang said, and clicked off.

Ean kept the line open and sang the clerk’s comms open, so he could hear what came next. Sure enough, “Wasn’t that the GU Packard?” the clerk said. “Shouldn’t that have been Captain Packard?”

He punched in a code to the ship Ean had used. “Captain Packard, confirming the jump you recently requested.”

Kari Wang pushed the codes through to Wendell. “Lambert.”

Ean began singing to the sevens.

“Ship, prepare to jump,” Wendell said.

They entered the void.

In Aratogan space, all was quiet.

Somewhere, close to one of the weapons bays, Spacer Tinatin was talking to Spacer Qatar. “They didn’t want him on the Lancastrian Princess anymore, so they sent him to Confluence Station. But Confluence Station didn’t want him either, so now he’s here on the Eleven, until they can work out what to do with him.”

“You are full of it, Tinatin,” Qatar said.

On the Lancastrian Princess, Abram was back at his old desk in his and Michelle’s workroom, talking to Admiral Dirks, from Aratoga. Dirks must have been on Haladea III, for Ean couldn’t get any information other than what he could hear through line five.

“Now in Aratogan space. No ships close by.” Kari Wang used her human screens to tell her that. “Moving toward the battleground.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Abram looked toward Dirks’s screen. “We now have real-time communication with the Aratogan sector, Admiral. The comms is yours.”

“I could get used to this.” Dirks’s grin was a toothy baring of teeth. There was something about admirals. They showed more teeth than other soldiers. Maybe it was a seniority thing. He clicked on his comms, through to another admiral. A woman this time. “Brant. Dirks here.”

Ean sang the feed going to Abram’s screens onto one of Kari Wang’s screens. She nodded her thanks.

“This had better be important, Dirks. We’ve a situation at this end.”

“I know. We’re sending you reinforcements.”

“That’s going to be a lot of use. This battle will be over in six hours.”

Six hours. How did she know with such precision how long it would be?

Brant looked at the comms. “You’re in real time. You’re in the Aratogan sector?” She was animated suddenly. “What are you sending us? And how long will they be?” Ean heard her say quietly to someone, “Get Commodore Summers on the comms.”

“We’re two hours away,” Kari Wang said.

“Who in the lines are you?”

“Captain Kari Wang, ma’am. New Alliance governance fleet.”

Governance fleet? Ean had never heard of it. Neither, by her frown, had Brant.

“We are in the Aratogan sector and making at speed toward—”

“Kari Wang. The Eleven? You’re sending me one of the alien ships?”

“Affirmative,” Dirks said.

“Admiral Brant, Admiral Galenos here. Understand that this is a trial run. We are still testing the Eleven. Results might be unexpected.” A strong sound of Ean came through with that. “We ask that you give the ship space to do what it needs to do, and if Captain Kari Wang asks your people to do something, then they should do it. It will be for their safety. Sometimes our control is… erratic.”

“Give us access to that green field,” Brant said, “and I don’t care how erratic you are. Even the sight of the ship should scare them. Hell, it scares me and it’s on our side.”

“Command of the Eleven is yours, Admiral Brant.”

“Commodore Summers is the man in charge at the scene.” Brant switched in another line. “Are you there, Commodore?”

“Admiral.”

“Situation report.”

“We’ve ten enemy ships surrounding Asteroids 527 and 629,” Summers said. “Ships range from a two-hundred-crew Class Three warship to one-hundred-crew Class Five.” He put the data and maps on-screen as well. Ean pushed that through to the Eleven and to the Wendell. “These asteroids contain the offices and supply stores for the whole belt. If we lose them, we lose control of the asteroids. We’ve five Aratogan ships. With the exception of the ship I am on, all are smaller warships with less than a hundred crew. We have five battle cruisers two light-years away, but we can’t get jumps for them.”

“Sounds bad,” Brant said. “But you’re about to get reinforcements.”

“We’ll be glad of them.” Summers stumbled, then righted himself.

It took Kari Wang’s saying, “He’s under attack,” before Ean realized what had happened.

“They hit him?”

Kari Wang nodded.

Summers glanced over to where someone was giving orders, then looked back. “How many? What class? When will they be here?”

“One ship,” Brant said.

Ean didn’t need the image on Abram’s screen to see Summers wince.

But they didn’t have one ship, they had two. And one of them was effectively unarmed.

“Class—” Brant looked at Abram. “Does it have a class?”

“Eleven,” Abram said.

“Never heard of it,” Summers said. Then he did a double take, much like Brant had before. He looked from Abram to Dirks to Brant. “One of the alien ships?”

“Affirmative.”

“How long to get here?”

“One hundred and fifteen minutes,” Kari Wang said.

Ean tuned them out. He’d brought the Wendell along; he had to make sure Wendell and his crew were safe.

The conversation between the admirals, commodore, and captain was done. The Aratogans clicked off, leaving only the Eleven fleet ships online.

“Wendell,” Kari Wang said, “you should stay here. We’ll collect you on the way back.”

“No,” Ean said. “He should come inside the protective field.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Abram said. “Was Wendell’s coming along an accident? Or deliberate?”

He hadn’t gotten Ean’s message. Another thing they knew now. You couldn’t send messages while you were in the void.

“We couldn’t set the jump on the Eleven,” Kari Wang said.

“I can see that might be a problem. I wonder how the aliens did it.” Abram gave a wry smile. “Maybe you should have used one of the media ships, Ean.” Ean wasn’t sure if he was joking. “This could be an impressive show.”

“Wendell,” Ean said, for Wendell wasn’t making any attempt to move.

“Sure, I’ll come along,” Wendell said. “But I’m not going in close. Not even to ensure my protection. Not at the speeds we’re traveling.”

“It was safe when the Lancastrian Princess did it.”

“The Lancastrian Princess wasn’t traveling at full speed toward a battle. No thank you, Ean. I’d prefer to take my chances following behind.”

“Not to mention he’ll slow us down,” Kari Wang said. Which was true, for the alien ships could travel twice as fast as the Bose engines could drive human ships.

Admiral Brant called back. Commodore Summers not long after. Kari Wang and Mael were soon deep in tactical discussions.

“War is mostly waiting,” Bhaksir told Ean. “With occasional exciting moments. Hanging around you, it’s more exciting than normal.”

Ean liked life quiet. The lines, his crewmates on the Lancastrian Princess — especially Radko, wherever she was—and the alien ships. His preferred adventures were discovering new things about the lines.

He listened to the lines and kept out of Kari Wang’s way.

Ten minutes later, a ship jumped into space close enough for the Eleven to register the lines. Then another. Then a third. The three of them started to move toward the Wendell.

“Damn.” Kari Wang didn’t sound surprised. She called up Wendell. “You’ve three ships closing in on you.”

“We can see two of them. Where’s the third?”

Ships broadcast their location, but because communication within a sector was instantaneous, most ships ignored anything outside a known radius of their own ship unless they were specifically contacting another ship. Otherwise, they’d drown in the information overload.

Kari Wang gave coordinates.

Ean looked at the positions. Sure, the ships were thousands of kilometers apart—but that was normal for jumps. These three ships had arrived in close succession, and had arrived close to where the Eleven had jumped.

Now they were making for the nearest ship.

Ean had brought the Wendell into this battle and left him there. “We have to go back and rescue him.”

“We have a battle plan. Other ships are working to our timetable, have already started moving. What do you want me to do? Call them up, and say, ‘Sorry, we’ll be delayed’?”

Yes, he did. “We can’t leave one of our own fleet.”

“This is war, Lambert.”

Another ship arrived. Then another. Gate Union intended to make sure of their kill.

War or not, Ean couldn’t leave Wendell there to face five ships. He opened his mouth to sing.

Kari Wang took out her blaster. “You jump us back to that ship, and you’re a dead man.”

Bhaksir jumped up hurriedly. “I can’t let you do that, Captain.”

Ean didn’t think Kari Wang would kill him, but she would knock him out, and he wouldn’t be any use to anyone then. He closed his mouth.

Maybe he should try singing Wendell home. Or… “Why don’t I swap? Like we did with Confluence Station? That won’t cause too much delay, and we know it works.”

“Last time we did that, we weren’t traveling at this speed,” but he could see she was considering it.

“The Eleven knows what to do. And it’s not like we’re doing anything dangerous.” He hoped. “We’re switching places.”

“Can you guarantee that?”

He wanted to lie. “No.”

She put her blaster away. “If you’d said yes, Lambert, we wouldn’t be thinking of this.”

If he couldn’t guarantee it, why was she thinking of it? “I will do my best to make it as safe as we can.”

“I’m not sure that’s the right approach with you.” Kari Wang turned to the screen. “So, Wendell, you’ve five ships headed toward you. I’m sure you’d like to fight your way out of it, but Lambert has a suggestion.”

“They’re not good odds this end,” Wendell admitted. “We only have six warheads. I’ll listen to any suggestions.”

His crew were already making plans. Ean could see them, calculating distances and trajectories.

“We’re thinking a swap, much like Lambert did with Confluence Station. We don’t want to swap too often, or I’ll lose too much trajectory.”

“Minimum number of swaps.” Wendell scratched his chin.

“Minimum number any sane person would do. I don’t want to die of fright doing it.”

Was she talking about him or about Wendell?

“Give me some calculations, Piers, and a safety margin.”

Wendell came up with three jumps to get all five ships. “We could do it in two, but you’ll be getting close to one of the ships.”

It meant a change in course, and Wendell had planned that so it looked as if he were trying to avoid one of the ships, which in fact took him into the path of another two.

“With luck, they’ll see what you do to the first two, and the rest will retreat to regroup,” Wendell said. “That’s what I would do.”

Provided everything worked as planned.

They watched the ships move closer to Wendell. Too close. What if the Wendell was destroyed before the Eleven swapped? Atmosphere on the Wendell was calm, ready for battle. Wendell paced around the bridge, slow and careful, as if he wanted to cover every centimeter of surface.

On the Eleven, there was a lot of nervous excitement. Kari Wang continued to drill her crew, treating it like a training exercise. Ean wasn’t sure if she believed it was, if it was to keep them calm, or if she thought they needed more training.

Two hours ago, Ean had been listening to Michelle tell them Emperor Yu had called Abram a traitor.

The Eleven drew closer to the battle. The Wendell grew closer to the warships.

“Shields up,” Wendell said, as the first ship fired. “Take evasive action as needed but keep heading toward those ships.”

Eventually, the two ships were as close as planned. The Wendell took some damage, but Wendell’s crew were good and the Gate Union ships wary, so damage was minimal.

Wendell stopped pacing. “We’re in range.”

Commodore Summers came online. “You are within range of our sensors, Eleven.”

“Good,” Kari Wang said. “Ean. Switch.”

Ean sang the request. “Switch places, with the Wendell, please. Like you did the other night with Confluence Station.”

“Preparing to enter the void,” Kari Wang said, but by the time she’d said it, they were out the other side.

“Captain Kari Wang?” Summers said.

“One moment,” Kari Wang said. “Status report?”

“We’re about to get shot,” Mael said.

“Thank you, Mael, that’s truly helpful.”

But Mael was already adding, “One ship at 234.23.33, one at 235.24.186.”

“No one in range here,” Wendell said. “But I see a lot of ships within ten to twenty minutes.”

“Ean. Turn on the field.”

Ean sang the protective field on.

“Mael, set a course between the two ships. I want the Eleven to pass within nine kilometers of the first, then be ready to swing around and do the same for the other.”

The enemy ship frantically fired side rockets to turn. It was too slow. The protective field triggered at just under ten kilometers and spread outward from the Eleven. This time, Ean was listening for the quick, deep dirge of line nine. The enemy ship disappeared, its lines with it.

The Eleven and its crew sang with triumph.

A whole ship, gone in seconds.

Ean didn’t join the singing.

The green field spread out inexorably farther. Two hundred kilometers farther, then it stopped, held for thirty counts, then began to recede. All the while, the Eleven moved closer to the second ship.

Through line five on the second ship, Ean heard the captain requesting a jump. He held his breath. Abram always had a jump ready. Please let these people have a jump ready.

Mael counted off the distance on one of the human screens. “Two hundred eighty kilometers. Two hundred seventy kilometers. Two hundred sixty kilometers.”

The clerk assigning jumps sounded the same as the one in the Roscracian sector. “Please be aware requesting an immediate jump incurs a surcharge of 200 percent. You must—”

“Confirmed and accepted as officer in charge,” the captain said. “Now send me the jump, or you’ll kill us all.”

“Please use a thumbprint and retina scan to confirm that you are the authorizing officer.”

“One hundred thirty,” Mael said. “One hundred twenty.”

The ship disappeared.

“One hundred ten. Ship has jumped.”

“Captain, please use a thumbprint and retina scan to confirm you are the authorizing officer,” the clerk at the other end of the now-empty line five repeated.

Ean blew on his hands, which were icy.

“They jumped cold.” Kari Wang shivered. “Ean, swap us back.”

Ean dutifully switched the two ships and breathed deep as he listened to the celebration around him. He should have insisted they trust the lines to jump them safely into Aratogan space. Then the first ship wouldn’t have been sent into the void, and the second wouldn’t have taken that desperate jump.

Now they were stuck in the void forever. Ean had been in it long enough to know how horrible that was, and based on the condition of the original crew of the Eleven — stuck in stasis like the crew of the Balao — the aliens must hate it as much as he did.

“Why did you send them into the void?” He used the sound for line nine because he didn’t know how to differentiate between the line that took them into the void and the void itself.

“Void?” line one on the Eleven replied. “Not the void. We sent them.” What came through was the heavy strength of line six.

“You used the void to flick them into line six?”

“Not line six. This.”

The second time around, Ean heard subtle changes in the sound. It was fainter, deeper, heavier. Stationary. He’d heard the sound on the Eleven back near Haladea III. He’d never been sure what it was.

“Quick. Kind.”

Bose Engines were mostly energy. Was the Eleven telling him it had flicked the first enemy ship into a massive energy source? Like a sun?

Summers was relieved to see the Eleven back. “I wasn’t sure what happened there,” he said.

“Some Gate Union ships tailing us.” Kari Wang glanced over to Ean, looked as if she would say something, then didn’t. “There are another three ships. We might need to jump again to eliminate them.”

Summers nodded. “You will be back in time though?”

“Yes. Currently on track to arrive in ten minutes,” Kari Wang said. “Any changes to our plan?”

He looked bemused at that, as if wondering why she asked. “Negative.”

That plan had been agreed to and valid five minutes ago. In that five minutes, they’d destroyed a ship full of people and lines, and forced another to jump cold.

And no one but them had noticed. Ean shivered. He’d never get warm again.

Kari Wang let her crew celebrate for another five minutes, then called them back to their tasks. She glanced at Ean occasionally but said nothing, although she did look at Bhaksir once, and incline her head toward Ean.

Bhaksir came over and sat beside Ean. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Ean said. “Missing Radko, actually.”

He didn’t know why he’d said it, but Radko’s absence was an ache that wouldn’t go away. He’d have given anything to have her nearby, even if she was making him do laps on the Lancastrian Princess when his throat was burning, and he couldn’t breathe. His throat was burning now, too, and he hoped Bhaksir wouldn’t ask him any more questions. He wasn’t sure he could answer.

“Me too, Ean. Me too,” Bhaksir said.

Wendell watched the boards carefully. “The third ship’s definitely slowing. So are the ones chasing us.”

Two minutes later, all three jumped out, one after the other, at intervals of half a minute.

“That’s one problem out of the way,” Kari Wang said. “I wish the ships around here would do that.” She looked at Ean. “Do I need to state the obvious? No shield here, or we’ll annihilate ships on our own side.”

She hadn’t needed to state it, but Ean said, “Understood.”

Kari Wang opened her comms to the whole ship. “Positions.”

Line one echoed with the wave of anticipation and nerves.

“Abascal, Dhalmans. Ready on the weapons?”

“Ready, Captain,” from two different parts of the ship.

Ean moved over to Mael. “Which ones are friends; which ones are foe?”

Mael sang the IDs for the enemy first. “Here, here, here, and here. Enemy.”

Ean sang them back to the ship. “Enemy. And the Aratogans?”

Mael sang their IDs.

Ean sang them back to the Eleven as well. “Friends.”

He hoped the lines could distinguish between the terms.

After which, they waited some more. War seemed to be one long wait, with tiny bits of action between.

On the Lancastrian Princess, Abram was making tea for himself and Michelle. Captain Helmo wandered the decks, stopping occasionally to talk to crew. The lines were melancholy. They were melancholy on the Wendell as well. Captain Wendell was sitting—a rare still moment for him—staring at the screens as if he expected the enemy ships to jump out of the void again. Ean didn’t think he thought that at all.

The only ship that had any real life was the Galactic News ship, where the engineer who’d been so animated two nights previously was animated again.

“I tell you, Coop. We’re getting live news again. This time from the Aratogan sector.”

And, of course, from Spacer Tinatin on the Eleven. “… Lady Lyan, and no one is happy about it because it means she’s trying to make Lancia back into the power it used to be back in the Alliance.”

That news was only two hours old. Where was she getting it from?

“Combat ship coming into range,” Kari Wang said, crisp and clear, making Ean jump.

The whole ship seemed to brighten.

“Abascal, Dhalmans. Are you ready?”

“Ready, Captain.”

“We’re ready too,” Tinatin said to Qatar.

“We’re on the wrong side of the ship for fighting.”

“But we’re still ready.”

“Ready,” the ship echoed.

“Fire on my command. Three, two, one, fire.”

Line eight sang. Two twangs, and seconds later—it felt like hours—Abascal said, “Missile gone.” Dhalmans said the same, almost on top of her.

Did the other ship realize they had fired? Ean sang gently to the lines on the other ship to find out.

Yes, and they were firing rockets now, moving away. But the Eleven had fired first.

“They’re taking evasive action,” he said. “And they fired at us.”

“Calliope. Fire jets eighty-seven and eighty-eight. Five seconds on half thrust.”

Calliope sang instructions to the ship, and the ship responded instantly.

The Eleven’s missiles hit the enemy ship then. It bucked against the force.

“Fire again, on my command. Three, two, one, fire.” Two more missiles headed toward the ship. The enemy ship’s own sudden, evasive acceleration turned it into their path. The ship lines jangled and stayed jangling.

Ean clasped his fingers together, saw Kari Wang glance at them, and crossed his arms instead.

“Weapons ready,” Abascal said, and Dhalmans, almost on top of her again. “Ready.”

“Ready,” line eight echoed.

Ready to pound other lines into oblivion. Then, that was what battles were for, and this was a warship.

“Missile will pass fifty meters from port side,” Mael said. “And two vessels have broken away from the main fight, making toward us. Staying within two hundred kilometers of Aratogan ships.”

“Acknowledged,” Kari Wang said.

“Ready,” line eight sang again. A persistent tune under everything that was happening on the bridge.

“Line eight is ready,” Ean said. “Ready to do what?”

The answer that came back was quiet and blue and smelled like hot blood.

“Not your green field.” They’d kill everyone within a two-hundred-kilometer radius, friend and foe.

“Not the automatic defense system. The…” Quiet, blue, hot blood.

“Ready to what?” Kari Wang asked.

Use? Do? “The thing.”

“That’s really helpful, Lambert. I need more information.” She opened the comms. “Those of you not at active stations, see if you can work out what Lambert’s talking about.”

“It’s line eight,” Ean said.

What questions would Radko ask?

Is it a weapon? How do you use it?

“How does it work?”

In line eight’s song, the tune twisted and turned into a hot, blue ball.

“I think it’s a weapon,” Ean said. “Can you fire at a specific ship?”

“Of course.”

“The GU Salvan has fired,” Mael said. “Two missiles, coming this way.”

Kari Wang checked her boards. “Calliope. Fire jets eighty-seven and eighty-eight. Five seconds on full thrust.”

“Can you fire at that one?” Ean made the sound for the GU Salvan.

For a moment, they were in the void. Line eight released something, then they were out again.

“Lambert. Do that again without my permission, and I will kill you personally.”

A bright blue ball of flame engulfed the GU Salvan. The metallic smell of hot blood swamped Ean momentarily. The lines on the GU Salvan went dead.

Ean put a hand to his mouth. Lives and lines, so easily wiped out.

“And what did you do, anyway?” Kari Wang asked.

The three single eights started cheering.

“GU Salvan has been neutralized,” one of them—Boleslav—said.

“How do you know this?” Kari Wang demanded.

“Didn’t you see it, ma’am?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“There are no lines left alive on that ship,” Ean said.

“Another missile leaving the GU Salvan,” Mael said. “And another. No, scratch that. Lifepods exiting.”

At least something had come out of it alive.

Ean watched the exiting pods while Kari Wang turned her attention to the next ship Summers had assigned her. “Can we do it again?”

She had to stand right in front of him before he realized she was talking to him.

“Can you?” Ean asked line eight.

“Time. Wait.”

“Not yet, I think.”

“Let me know when it can.”

Ean nodded and went back to watching escaping pods.

The sounds of war went on around him. The Eleven destroyed another ship, and damaged two more. It was hit twice, neither time badly.

“Ready,” line eight said finally.

Ean took a deep breath.

One of the Gate Union ships disappeared. It had jumped. Then another, and another. In five minutes they were all gone, scattered no doubt over the galaxy to whatever jumps they’d been assigned.

Ean blew out his breath.

Summers was all smiles over the comms. “Thank you, Captain. Your presence here routed the enemy. It was good to see you in action. Most impressive.”

“We’re still learning the ins and outs of the ship,” Kari Wang said. “Once we know it, then you’ll see impressive.”

The lines sang with pleasure. “You will.”

Kari Wang patted the console, then called up the Wendell. “If we’re to jump together, I’d prefer to be closer. We know how much space we have to clear.”

A lot, because Abram didn’t like the ships too close together. But at least Kari Wang was prepared to jump home cold. Although, really, when you had instantaneous communication between two sectors, and feeds from ships in the other sector, how dangerous was it? The jump took a millisecond, and you knew what was there.

Even so, Ean was going to make good and sure the jump was a safe one.

Afterward, while the Eleven made for its rendezvous with the Wendell, Kari Wang walked around the ship.

“Walk with me,” she said to Ean.

He wanted to sit and think, but he could tell from the lines that she’d insist if he didn’t. He trailed her out, and Bhaksir trailed him.

Kari Wang stopped and talked to some of her crew close by. “Well done,” she said. They talked some moments, then moved on. As they moved off Ean noticed she listed slightly to the left. So the fight hadn’t been as easy as it looked. He was glad about that.

“You should sit down,” he said.

“I need to check my crew,” she said. “Was this your first fight?”

“No.” He’d been in a battle before, back when he’d been with Orsaya on the shuttle, escaping from Markan. Kari Wang wouldn’t be satisfied with a no. She’d keep on at him until she got to the root of what she thought was the problem. All Ean wanted was to forget what had happened. “Today was… it was so easy to destroy a ship full of people. Normal people like you and me. And they didn’t have a chance. We just—”

Either ship—the one they had destroyed with the green protective field or the one they had destroyed with the hot blue ball that no one but the eights had been able to see—and the Eleven was as bloodthirsty as its crew. But then, ship sentience came in part from its crew, so a warship would think that was right.

“It makes you wonder what damage the aliens did to each other,” Kari Wang said.

They knew what damage they did. Some ships looked as if they’d been bitten in two; on other ships, the lines were so bad Ean still hadn’t fixed them properly.

“That weapon I couldn’t see. Does every ship have that?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask later.” When he could work out a way to formulate the question. Maybe he should approach each ship and ask it if it had one. “There is so much we don’t know.”

Kari Wang stopped to talk to more crew. Ean waited, quiet beside her.

After they resumed their walk, she said, “You did well today.”

“Thank you.”

“And it’s comforting to know that our leading linesman isn’t going to opt for the kill every time if he can help it.”