The Gw'oth war fleet was not far behind Remembrance Remembrance-and they would keep gaining until Achilles managed to restart his ship's fusion reactors. The Gw'oth had matched normal-space velocity with Hearth before Louis warned them off. Best guess, they meant to use that velocity to threaten Kl'mo with kinetic-kill weapons. So the Gw'oth ships would not be slowing down, either.

"I think," Louis said, "that Alice, Achilles, and the Gw'oth warships will all arrive at about the same time."

"And us, too? That's what you're thinking."

"And us, too," Louis agreed. "If you will let Sigmund hire you and your ship."

Enzio leaned back in his crash couch, fingers interlaced behind his head, eyes closed in thought. He finally said, "We would have to be crazy."

Louis said nothing.

"And do what when we arrive?"

"Improvise," Louis said.

Achilles thought: Yet again, I can rely only on myself.

Two crew had been frightened to death. More, including Clotho, had lapsed into catatonia so deep that not even blasting the hull-breach alarm could animate them. They were in stasis, stacked in an out-of-the-way storeroom. Even among the crew back on duty, several exhibited insanity beyond the ability of autodocs to treat.

Louis Wu had much to answer for.

But first-although the planet-buster was crushed beyond repair-the Gw'oth must be defanged.

Louis waited in his cabin while the New Terrans, crowded into Addison Addison's relax room, debated. His future. And Alice's. And the fates of several worlds.

After far too long: a chime from his pocket computer. Louis grabbed it. It showed Enzio's comm ID. "Yes?"

"You got us out of a real mess, Louis. We decided we owe you." Enzio paused. "On Ausfaller's promise he'll pay us."

"You'll have it."

42.

"Apologies, Your Wisdom."

"Unavoidable," Sr'o said, neither knowing nor caring who had bumped her or who had spoken. She could not summon the energy to protest the unwanted honorific. When last she had counted two fivefolds swam laps with her. They jetted about for exercise, and to clear their minds, and in vain hopes of making themselves weary enough to sleep.

The melding chamber, as crammed as it was, remained the least crowded large space aboard Mighty Current Mighty Current. Through the transparent partitions she could see into the more congested control center and engine room. She would be back in the control center soon enough.

The colony was ever vigilant because Ol't'ro was certain an attack must come. They poured their resources into weapons because to do any less might doom them all. They kept Mighty Current Mighty Current hopping around Kl'mo system because any defense coordinated from inside the singularity was destined to fail. hopping around Kl'mo system because any defense coordinated from inside the singularity was destined to fail.

And they were stressed beyond endurance, waiting.

Drowsiness continued to elude Sr'o. With ripples of resignation (dorsal, yellow and green), she acknowledged that she could not sleep, and that once again a duty shift loomed.

Until then she would ponder the colony's ever more precarious ecosystem. All her interventions had been futile, the transplanted biota dwindling with each passing day. She saw no solution without new supplies from Jm'ho.

Yet they did not dare divert resources to seek healthy stocks. Ol't'ro calculated an assault was imminent, and decreed the colony must defend foremost against genocidal violence. Absolute rulers were absolutely mad. Before escaping, the Gw'otesht had watched Bm'o's descent into absolute power and self-absorption.

Sr'o found herself reduced to hoping the onslaught was imminent. Unless an attack came quickly-even if the colony survived it-there would be no colony left to seek resupply from the home world.

There was a three-way collision midchamber, and a tangle of tubacles. "Sorry," she said automatically. "My thoughts were elsewhere."

She did not doubt Ol't'ro-that would be too much like doubting herself-but the colony's options tormented her. Die slowly? Die quickly? Return to servitude? Ol't'ro insisted none of those would come to pass. The others would- The pulsating glare of an alarm lamp sliced through the ship. Intruder alert. Intruder alert. Sr'o jetted to the floor to peer into the control center. A second alarm began to blink. Sr'o jetted to the floor to peer into the control center. A second alarm began to blink. Hyperwave hail. Hyperwave hail.

The captain put the incoming call on speaker. The hail was in the New Terran language, English. "... Terran embassy ship Metternich Metternich. Repeat, this is the New Terran embassy ship Metternich Metternich. We come in peace and friendship. This is ..."

The tactical display presented hyperwave-radar data from the recently completed defensive array. A big blip, Sr'o thought, the ship significantly larger than hers. But humans were bigger than Gw'oth.

That the newcomer spoke English proved nothing. Citizens knew English. Anyone dealing with the New Terran traders learned English. It was trivially simple compared to any Gw'oth language.

If the ship did originate from the human world, they had taken pains to shed their normal-space velocity. Their course vector did not point to the inner solar system. Sr'o saw nothing immediately threatening.

"Metternich," the captain responded, "this is Kl'mo planetary defense. Maintain course and speed. Await further instructions."

"... peace and friendship. This is-" The recording stopped and a new voice began. Sr'o thought it was a human woman's voice. "Kl'mo planetary defense, we are pleased to find your colony still well. My name is Alice Jordan, and Sigmund Ausfaller sent me. I would like to speak to Ol't'ro."

The sixteen were already jetting to the melding chamber.

"We are Ol't'ro," they declared.

"Before we start," the one calling herself Alice Jordan said, "I bring a message from Sigmund. I am to tell you, 'Apology accepted.' "

The probability that the intruder was New Terran rose significantly. "We meant him no harm," Ol't'ro replied.

"You asked Sigmund for help. There is little New Terra can do without taking sides, and that we cannot do."

Take sides. Ol't'ro remembered humans' peculiar appearance, symmetrical only around one vertical plane. Sides: an odd term, but they understood. "Little you can do, but not nothing. What can you do?" What will will you do? you do?

"You and the other side may not need to fight. Perhaps a neutral party can help you find a middle ground."

Middle ground: more strangeness. The only middle grounds on Jm'ho were the nutrient-free wastelands far from any hydrothermal vents. Worthless. The middle "ground" between stars was void, likewise useless.

Alice prattled on for a while, all platitudes. It was pie in the sky, wishful thinking, pipe dreams, the wire talking. From Ol't'ro's long-ago sojourn with humans during the Pak War, they had an excellent grasp of English idiom, even though the antecedents often eluded them.

Not even Jeeves, Sigmund's artificial intelligence, had been able to explain every human expression. That That Jeeves had been killed in the Pak War. The death made Ol't'ro sad: an AI was as potentially immortal as a Gw'otesht. Someday, maybe they could meet another Jeeves. Jeeves had been killed in the Pak War. The death made Ol't'ro sad: an AI was as potentially immortal as a Gw'otesht. Someday, maybe they could meet another Jeeves.

"A compromise," Ol't'ro summarized eventually.

"Exactly."

"Explain the compromise between the side who would be free and the side who would enslave."

Alice was silent for a long while. "My bridge crew reports I am talking with a source moving at half light speed."

"A hyperwave relay," Ol't'ro lied.

The inevitable war fleet from Jm'ho would race out of hyperspace. Every time Ol't'ro did the calculation, their prediction was the same: the Tn'Tn'ho's ships would have matched velocities with the Fleet of Worlds. With that velocity they would make themselves less threatening to the Citizens-and they might even pretend to be Citizens themselves. With that velocity they would be very very threatening to the fragile colony Ol't'ro must defend. threatening to the fragile colony Ol't'ro must defend.

And so Mighty Current Mighty Current had accelerated to the Fleet's normal-space velocity. When, inexorably, the battle opened, when every instant would count, Ol't'ro would have no need to adjust for relativistic distortions. had accelerated to the Fleet's normal-space velocity. When, inexorably, the battle opened, when every instant would count, Ol't'ro would have no need to adjust for relativistic distortions.

If they had correctly divined the enemy's thoughts. they had correctly divined the enemy's thoughts.

Meanwhile, like its constellation of defensive probes, Mighty Current Mighty Current remained near the solar system with an unending series of hyperspace micro-jumps. remained near the solar system with an unending series of hyperspace micro-jumps.

"Very well," Alice said. "About how we might help. As a neutral party, we have our own perspective. We can be objective. We may recognize options the conflicting sides have not. We may-"

Ululating sound over the hyperwave channel. At the same instant, bright lights resumed strobing through the clear floor of the melding chamber: intruder alert intruder alert.

On the bridge, the captain redirected a portion of the hyperwave array at the disturbance. "A very large ship," he called. "Making half light speed northward directly toward Kl'mo."

It all happened at once.

Alice was already struggling to keep pace with Ol't'ro. Sigmund had warned her-about the commanding, resonant voice the Gw'otesht would adopt; the stunningly quick thoughts; the seemingly intuitive leaps whose thoughtful underpinnings she would only deduce later-but she had had to experience experience the ensemble mind to understand. To be properly humbled. She talked slowly, circuitously, verbosely, buying with her wordiness extra seconds for reflection. the ensemble mind to understand. To be properly humbled. She talked slowly, circuitously, verbosely, buying with her wordiness extra seconds for reflection.

How could she find a possibility Ol't'ro had not envisioned long before?

Metternich was only minutes out of hyperspace, the domain visible to its light-speed-bounded active sensors still limited. Every glance she could spare toward the tactical display revealed another one or two neutrino sources whizzing about at relativistic speeds. Neutrino emissions meant fusion reactors, but what devices did those reactors power? As she watched the display, frowning in concentration, one of the sources winked out. Elsewhere, seconds later, another appeared. was only minutes out of hyperspace, the domain visible to its light-speed-bounded active sensors still limited. Every glance she could spare toward the tactical display revealed another one or two neutrino sources whizzing about at relativistic speeds. Neutrino emissions meant fusion reactors, but what devices did those reactors power? As she watched the display, frowning in concentration, one of the sources winked out. Elsewhere, seconds later, another appeared.

Meanwhile, the hyperwave detector was alive with ripples. From the transient neutrino sources, hopping through hyperspace? From the hyperwave buoy Ol't'ro claimed? She did not understand boosting a relay to such high speed.

Meanwhile her earnest young aide, by his stance and facial expression and standing way way too close, signaled frantically for her attention. "What?" she barked. too close, signaled frantically for her attention. "What?" she barked.

"A message from Sigmund just uploaded from a comm relay." He handed her a comp, and perhaps by accident started the message playing. "Sorry to add to your worries, Alice, but Achilles is probably headed your way and out for Gw'oth blood. He may not be too happy about humans, either. Louis says-"

Louis! She had worried since he dropped from sight. That had to wait. She tried to foresee Achilles' probable actions even as she kept speaking with Ol't'ro. "Very well," she said. "About how we might help. As a neutral party, we have our own perspective. We can be objective. We may recognize options the conflicting sides have not. We may-"

And a bridge alarm wailed. "Something big just dropped from hyperspace," the captain announced.

On Remembrance Remembrance's bridge, no longer crowded, Achilles focused on the mass pointer. A long blue line representing his destination groped hungrily at him. The longer he waited, the surer the doom of the Gw'oth world. Deploying fusion suppressors-in one cargo hold, Louis Wu's explosive device had fizzled-would be safer without any risk of local interference.

Curse that Louis Wu! Achilles needed badly to smash smash something. something.

But in the back of his mind, terror gibbered. Wait too too long and they would disappear into the singularity's hungry maw. The ultimate predator ... long and they would disappear into the singularity's hungry maw. The ultimate predator ...

Hecate stood, trembling, alone among the combat consoles. He kept glancing furtively at the mass pointer.

"We will be safe," Achilles sang impatiently.

"Yes, Excellency."

"Launch status?" Achilles prompted, more to occupy Hecate's thoughts than expecting anything to have changed.

"Missiles ready. The cargo-hold hatch is armed. The pressure curtain is active." A surveillance hologram changed as Hecate panned a security camera. "Excellency, Phoebe has fallen into catatonia. The others stand ready."

Just beyond that hatch, one button push away, lurked-nothing. Less than nothing. Oblivion. The wonder was not that Phoebe had collapsed, but that Hebe and Theia had not. But the hatch must be opened as quickly as possible, the probes set to thrust outward through the air-pressure curtain.

The long blue line nearly licked the mass pointer's transparent sphere. Achilles called, "Return to normal space in three ... two ... one ... now."

The stars returned. One shone far brighter than the rest: the sun that warmed their target. The sun at which Remembrance Remembrance raced at half light speed. With attitude thrusters, Achilles spun the ship so that his kinetic-kill weapons faced directly sunward. raced at half light speed. With attitude thrusters, Achilles spun the ship so that his kinetic-kill weapons faced directly sunward.

"Hatch open," Hecate reported. "Missiles report sensor lock."

"Launch."

"Missiles launched!" Hecate called.

On Achilles' instruments, two objects streaked away.

And an inexplicable number of neutrino sources seemed to be zipping about in all directions. Without waiting, Achilles plunged Remembrance Remembrance back to hyperspace before the ship crossed into the singularity. back to hyperspace before the ship crossed into the singularity.

From Hecate: a bleat of sheer terror. Then, silence.

Eyes closed, Achilles sidled to the combat center. By touch he found the ON/OFF ON/OFF switches and powered down the video displays. When he dared to open his eyes, Hecate still stared where the surveillance hologram of the cargo hold had been-without focus, lost in some infinite distance. Lost in the Blind Spot. switches and powered down the video displays. When he dared to open his eyes, Hecate still stared where the surveillance hologram of the cargo hold had been-without focus, lost in some infinite distance. Lost in the Blind Spot.

"Hecate," Achilles sang. No response. "Hecate," he repeated, much louder. Nothing. He raised a forehoof and gave Hecate a strong shove in the flank.

"Excellency." Hecate shuddered. "What have you done done?"

"Probably saved us," Achilles sang.

But not the crew in the cargo hold, its enormous hatch gaping into hyperspace. Only Phoebe, his eyes and ears and consciousness withdrawn into a tightly rolled ball of flesh, might survive.

Ng't'mo floated in their tiny chamber, melded and waiting. Waiting on the master of masters. Waiting to leave hyperspace. Waiting for sensors to come alive. Waiting for threat and conflict. Waiting for the deaths certain to come.

Whose deaths? That they must wait to learn.

"Surrender or die!" Bm'o shouted. His fleet was just out of hyperspace.

A moment later chaos erupted across the control center. How could a reply come so soon? Radio waves had only begun their light-speed trek into the inner solar system. Unless the reply came from outside the singularity, via a relay very close by.

"We will do neither," a familiar voice said. Ol't'ro. Ol't'ro. "Look around. We have an enemy in common." "Look around. We have an enemy in common."

And in his displays Bm'o saw another another vessel. It was huge, larger than all his ships combined. It must be a Citizen ship! Its normal-space velocity matched that of Bm'o's fleet. And inward from that monstrous ship- vessel. It was huge, larger than all his ships combined. It must be a Citizen ship! Its normal-space velocity matched that of Bm'o's fleet. And inward from that monstrous ship- Fusion flames drove missiles streaking toward the rebel world.

A wondrous puzzle!

Ng't'mo drank in the data sent to their cage from the ship's control center. The sun and planets. Neutrino sources racing at great speeds in all directions. And two large ships, not part of the master of masters' fleet. And missiles.