The Gripping Hand

"You're shooting with no warning!" someone said. Re

Blaine said, "We wouldn't be telling them anything they don't know, Ms. Trujillo. The best time to hit the Motie ships is during Jump shock, when their automated systems are shut down. If we wait until they've recovered enough to communicate, we might not be able to catch them at all. The rules of engagement acknowledge that."

"A question, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Suppose they wanted to negotiate. To surrender?"

"They may well try to," Blaine said. "But how could we know? They ca

Mercer nodded thoughtfully. "Proceed, Lieutenant."

Re

"Motie breakout attempts have ranged from the simple to ingenious," Blaine said.

The screen showed a kaleidoscope of actions. Single ships; armadas of ships; cluster ships that came apart like grenades and scattered; ships that came out at enormous velocity, tearing meteor trails through orange-hot gas.

"Now, this one was a beauty," Chris Blaine said with what had to be pride. They watched an iceball two kilometers across emerge from the invisible Alderson point. "Four days after I joined the Crazy Eddie Squadron, at the noon watch. The squadron chased after it. The comet-head left a comet-trail of itself as it plunged through the rarefied star-stuff. It dwindled, evaporated, exposing black beads: ships in Langston Field bubbles that raced off in random directions to be chased down by squadron ships.

"Of course we can't send all our ships against any single attempt," Blaine said. "There always has to be a reserve. Since there's no possible way the information could get back to the Mote, I suppose it's safe to say that sometimes that reserve has gotten critically thin."

Chris sounds better, surer. This part he knows, Re

"Given his training, he damned well ought to be," Ruth replied. The presentation continued. There were clips of the men amusing themselves on long watches. Then more battle scenes.

"Lately the Moties have a new trick," Blaine said. "They're sending what we've termed ‘token ships.' These are unma

It didn't. They saw an absurd stick-figure of a ship pop into existence at low velocity and immediately begin to melt.

Mercer cleared his throat. "Commander, do you have any theories on why they would send such things?"

"No, Your Highness. They come one at a time; no Field, they're easy to shoot down. No attempt to send messages. If they wanted us off guard, why send anything at all? It's as if they want us to be alert. We've speculated that they may want to locate the Alderson point more precisely-at their end, in Mote system-but they know that well enough to send ships through at point one percent of lightspeed. We can't do that."

"Hah," Re

"Yes, of course," Buckman said. He stood up. "Sir Kevin is right."

"Jacob-" Bury said. His voice was surprisingly strong.

"Oh. Um. Yes, of course. Cal-Your Highness, should I explain?"

Mercer was nodding gloomily. No surprises here. "Please do, Dr. Buckman."

"They're not trying to locate the Alderson point, they're proving that it's still there."

"Still there?" Jack Cargill sounded shocked. "Excuse me, Dr. Buckman, but why the devil shouldn't it be there?'

"Because it will move when the protostar collapses," Buckman said. "Re

They listened as Kevin Re

"I see," Bishop Hardy said. "I think I understand. But as the least technical person on the Commission, perhaps I should summarize and the experts can tell me if I've left anything out."

"Please," Mercer said.

"We are now convinced that the Moties deceived us about their stellar observations, particularly regarding the protostar. They convinced Dr. Buckman that the protostar will not ignite for from centuries to mille

"Yes," Buckman said. His voice was grim. "I have to give young Arnoff credit. He was right."

"When it ignites," Hardy said, "the Eleventh Fleet will be guarding an entry point that no longer exists."

"Well, may not, and will have moved a considerable distance in any case," Buckman said. "I've been working on the geometry, but with much of the data suspect it's hard to be exact. Everything depends on the violence of the collapse and the brightness of the new star."

"Yes," Hardy said. "In any event, their first warning would be when the Jump point in Murcheson's Eye moves. Meanwhile, we expect at least one more unguarded Alderson point leading from the Mote into normal space rather than to the inside of a star. And since Alderson Path events happen nearly instantaneously, all this will happen before any light from the protostar reaches us-or reaches the Mote. And therefore you have concluded that the Moties are hurling these cheap probes, these tokens, through periodically to see if the old Point has moved."

"Precisely," Buckman said.

There was a long, low whistle from the skipper of Agamemnon.

"Your pardon, Highness."

"Not at all, Commander Balasingham, I nearly did the same myself," Mercer said. "The situation appears serious indeed. One question. The Navy has ways to determine the location, and thus presumably the existence, of Alderson points without sending ships through them. Don't we?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Commander Balasingham said. He nervously stroked his thick mustache.

"So why the tokens?"

"Disturbances?" Re

"Sir Kevin?"

"Back when I was a navigator, finding an Alderson point was one of the trickiest things we could do. It's never easy, and it's impossible during heavy sunspot activity or during a battle, because Alderson events are very responsive to thermonuclear fluxes."

"You think there may be thermonuclear bombs going off in the Mote system?"

"It wouldn't surprise me, sir."

"Nor me," Bishop Hardy said.

Joyce Mel-Ling Trujillo had sat quietly during all this. Now she came to her feet. "May I ask..."

"Please," Mercer said.

"You're suggesting that the Moties are about to get out."

Re

"But that's-" She looked at Bury, who was staring ahead with unseeing eyes, his breathing carefully controlled. "Shouldn't we do something?"

Everyone spoke at once. And Bury's eyes flicked up at her. Rage and despair, and a sudden twitch of a mad smile.

Mercer tapped on the table with his gavel. "Of course Ms. Trujillo is correct," he said. "We should do something. The question is what? And I'm not certain that subject needs debate in a public meeting."

"Why not? Who doesn't belong here?" Trujillo demanded.