Mission to Minerva

It was necessary to search the ship physically because another result that had been feared was also confirmed. During the wait, nothing further had been heard from ZORAC, and no response could be evoked from it either from the lander or upon entering the Shapieron. In the same way as had happened with the system in the probe, the riot of desynchronization had scrambled ZORAC's internal processes to the point where it ceased functioning coherently. But the network that formed ZORAC was far more complex than the probe's equipment, and the energy concentration at the core of the disruption induced by starship power was more intense than anything the probe had come through. After analyzing the logs and records, Shilohin's scientists a

That was why ZORAC had requested authorization by the Commander before proceeding.

ZORAC had known.

Rodgar Jassilane, the Shapieron's engineering chief, restored the cha

A Lambian was calling something about an armored column on the move toward the Agracon. Somewhere else, an infantry regiment had declared for the king. In the middle of it all, Hunt and the officer watching him stood to one side, seemingly forgotten. The atmosphere in the communications room was tense. Nothing more had been heard from the Jevlenese. But from the bits that Hunt could pick up, Freskel-Gar was having other problems. The regular forces and the nation appeared to be rallying to Perasmon. Although Freskel-Gar was visibly under strain, whether he would try to brazen it out using the prisoners as bargaining chips, or concede now and make things easier was unclear. It could go either way.

And then a voice that Hunt recognized as deep, Ganymean guttural articulating a mixture of Jevlenese and broken Lambian came through above the hubbub from the console where he had talked briefly with Garuth. "No. Not Prince or Lambian. Victor Hunt, talk with." ZORAC was evidently unavailable. Freskel-Gar moved across, followed by his aides. The voice came again from behind the group of figures. "Victor Hunt, only. Talk with Earth human. Was there before." Freskel-Gar looked back and nodded to the officer to bring Hunt over. As the company parted to let Hunt in, Hunt saw that a screen was co

"What did that Giant mean, 'Earth human'?" he muttered. "How can you be from Earth?"

"More to this than you could dream," Hunt replied. "Best for you to end now. Believe." It was pure bravado. Hunt had run out of everything else. Freskel-Gar interrogated him silently with a long, penetrating look, and then motioned for him to continue.

"Garuth," Hunt said, facing the screen.

"Vic. We win, as you guess. Watch how. You see now." Garuth's features were replaced by a view of the Shapieron riding in space, surrounded by Broghuilio's five craft. Garuth's comments continued as a voiceover. "See from lander, where we are. ZORAC expands bubble." The scene became chaotic as ships began vanishing, multiplying, shifting from place to place. Freskel-Gar took a pace forward to stand beside Hunt, peering in bemusement.

"I don't understand. What's happening?" he demanded. Even though it had been he who put the idea to Garuth, Hunt was too astounded himself at seeing it actually happening to be capable of saying anything.

Then the Shapieron was on its own; a voice shouted something in Ganymean; and nothing further changed… except that after a few seconds it became evident that the image had stopped juddering and was stable again. "Back in ship now," Garuth's voice informed. "Broghuilio, Jevlenese, all gone. For good. But Perasmon plane…" Garuth made hand motions in the air as he sought for words.

Freskel-Gar was looking pale and tight-faced. He seemed to have gotten the message. "Translator computer is down," Hunt told him. "Bring back other Giant here. Easier talk, yes?" Too numbed to argue, Freskel-Gar just nodded to the officer, who hurried away. Hunt made the best of his opportunity to pile things on.

"It's over, Highness. You saw. Five ships, many years ahead of all that Minerva has. But all gone." He snapped a finger and thumb in the air. "Like so. Was nothing. You can't win against Giants. Wylott knows. Perasmon lives. Harzin lives. So now you have all Minerva to fight, too. Not possible. Smart thing is end now. Best answer. I tried to tell before. Now obvious."

Frenua Showm was brought in. By means of signs and bits of Jevlenese, Hunt conveyed the situation. Showm gasped at the news, took a few seconds to absorb it and adjust, and then, radiating exhilaration, turned to Garuth on the screen. From bits of the exchange between the two Ganymeans, Hunt followed Garuth saying that ZORAC had been trying… something to do with the Cerians… but Garuth didn't know because ZORAC was… it sounded like "finished." Hunt broke in to tell Showm that the flight had been diverted and two leaders were fine. The remark about ZORAC was alarming, but he had no time to dwell on it. Showm passed the news to Garuth, and it was his turn to be incredulous. Some indecipherable Ganymean exclamations and expressions followed, and the two aliens began emitting snorting noises accompanied by peculiar shaking movements. Only Hunt out of all those in the room had seen a Ganymean laugh before. But there could be no mistaking it.

Neither Freskel-Gar nor any of his staff were making any attempt to interrupt now. The realization of the inevitable seemed to permeate the room, as voices died and one by one the figures all around ceased tasks they now realized were futile.

The final report came from a station on the far side of the central map table. Infantry and armor were taking up positions around the Agracon and had sealed off all access. The commander of the Prince's Own defending units inside was requesting orders. A column was also heading toward Dorjon. Total silence fell. All eyes were fixed on Freskel-Gar. He looked from Hunt, to Showm, to Garuth watching from the screen, and over the expressionless faces surrounding him. As Hunt had said, it was over.

"Tell him to stand down," Freskel-Gar said.

Outside in the anteroom, where she had been told to remain in case she was needed again, Laisha was still recovering from the shock. A few minutes before, the colonel who had taken the light-ski