Part 23 (2/2)

”I remember,” whispered Darlene. ”Swelk had hidden a pocket computer on the bridge. That's how she determined what the plotters were up to.”

”Right.” Kyle tried to recall everything he'd learned or surmised about Krulchukor computing. What he

called Swelk's computer was more-it was also a communications device. All such computers on the Consensus were wirelessly networked. The Krulchukor magnetic sense was indifferent to radio frequencies, just as human eyes were indifferent to ultraviolet light. And with inner and outer airlocks doors open, the s.h.i.+p's wireless network must now extend onto the airfield. They were near enough for the device hidden on the bridge to network with the unit Swelk had dropped-a unit still set to translate to English.

”Before I am done, you and your disgusting freaks will experience death on a scale beyond your wildest imaginings.”

”Congratulations, by the way,”

Swelk felt the captain's scrutiny. She was covered with burns, oozing fluids from countless sc.r.a.pes and burns. ”For what?”

”For a successful escape. For surviving this long.” Grelben seemed indifferent to the state of the alarm panel, where lights were increasingly switching from crisis purple to an even more ominous Off. Panels and consoles around the bridge sprayed sparks. He coughed, choked by smoke, fire suppressant, and unknowable fumes. ”For the cleverness of your bilat friends.”

”System integrity at risk. Redundant equipment failures. Safety shutdown of reactor in three-cubed seconds.” The ceiling speakers crackled and hissed.”I could override the shutdown. It would turn this side of the continent into a large hole.””No! Do not do that. You must not do that!””Why not?” Grelben whistled in amus.e.m.e.nt at her. ”This s.h.i.+p was everything to me. Look at it now.”

”The humans should not suffer for what I have done. I brought us here.” Her thoughts raced, even as she felt her body succ.u.mbing to the heat and toxic gases and injuries. ”If you want someone to blame, it should be me.” She had been so proud of herself for spotting Earth's broadcasts. She had done everything in her power to convince him to bring the Consensus here. That Grelben had agreed for his own dishonorable reasons did not mitigate her responsibility. The depth of her presumption stunned her. How arrogant it had been to undertake a personal exploration of Earth rather than report her findings to the authorities on Krulchuk. Pride blinds the eyes, her old nurse liked to say. Swelk's pride had caused all this.

”Safety shutdown of reactor in two three-squared seconds.”

”I blame you. You do not need to doubt that.” A rumble deep in the s.h.i.+p made his words hard to hear. ”What say you? Would you like to go out with a bang?””Captain, please let the reactor shut down safely.” Her hearts pounded in fear, in guilt, in dismay. The ma.s.s murder Grelben envisioned was, like Rualf's stage-managed war, almost too large to grasp. One way or another, she knew she was dying, and another extinction also clutched at her. ”Let the crew escape. I lived here-all it takes is standard bioconverters. They can live here, too. You can live here.”

”Safety shutdown of reactor in three-squared seconds.”

”A captain without his s.h.i.+p? I do not think so.” He clenched all the digits of an extremity in violent negation. ”Nor will, I think, sane Krulirim follow your example.”

She had to keep him talking. A few more seconds, and the shutdown would be complete. Amid so many

crashed systems, the reactor could not possibly be reactivated, to become once more a threat. ”Let that . . .” A wave of smoke erupted onto the bridge, gagging her. She hacked and coughed, unable to speak. Would she fail, in the end, simply from an inability to get out the words? With a violent rasp, she spit out the pitiful remainder of her argument. ” . . . be their decision.”

”Safety shutdown of reactor in three seconds . . . two . . . one.”

”Get out of here,” coughed Grelben.

”Reactor shut down. Plasma has been vented.”

* * * Swelk groped through smoke-obscured corridors as fire crackled within the walls. Had her feeble words in the end swayed the captain? Whatever the reason for his forbearance, she was grateful. But she could not forget his taunt: Nor will, I think, sane Krulirim follow your example.

Could she not avoid the guilt of the whole crew's death? Revenge of the Subconscious flashed into her mind. Was she not the monster? She lived apart from her people-of necessity, she always told herself, but was that entirely true? Did she relish her uniqueness? There was no denying that her personal actions had brought a s.h.i.+pload of her kind here. Brought them to a world of bilats, who-however justifiably-were now slaughtering the Krulirim. She had to convince the s.h.i.+p's survivors to escape with her.

Swelk turned from her path toward the zoo hold to save her people.

* * * Grelben tripped and fell over a body in the almost impenetrable smoke, the impact knocking the wind from him. Inhaling reflexively, his lungs filled with noxious fumes. He retched repeatedly crawling through the murk for an emergency respirator.

Limbs weak and shaking, he regained a secure position on his command seat. He removed the breather from his mouth. ”Status comm.” His rasping voice was no longer understandable. ”Status . . . comm,” he repeated with exaggerated enunciation. The hologram that formed was too attenuated by smoke to be read. ”Flat . . . screen . . . mode.” He leaned toward the display, bending a sensor stalk until it almost touched the flat surface. Comm remained, in theory, operational. He could send a message with any antenna he did not mind losing in seconds to the flames gripping the hull. ”Command . . . file . . . 'Clean . . . Slate.' ”

Sucking oxygen again from the respirator, he recalled with amus.e.m.e.nt Swelk scuttling to what she considered safety. The mutant believed she had dissuaded him. Well, in a way, she had. She had convinced him that the quick death of a fusion explosion, for her and those who had abetted her, was too kind. So there had been no need to keep the reactor hot while he finished his other business. ”File . . . open.” A deep breath from the respirator. ”Send . . . file.”

”Help me up.” Kyle's unaided attempts at verticality were feeble. ”Hurry.”

Blake grabbed his outstretched arm and tugged. ”You should be seeing a doctor. From our minimal acquaintance, though, I sense you're not big on taking advice.”

Kyle ignored him. ”Dar, help me out to the s.h.i.+p.”

”Sergeant,” bellowed Blake. He waved to a woman in a Humvee. ”Drive my friends.”

Darlene helped him into the low-slung truck, and seconds later, out again. They joined the soldiers who

surrounded the wreckage, and the fire crews who had contained the blaze. They made no attempt to douse the s.h.i.+p itself. Kyle could not find fault with their decision not to endanger whatever firefighting mechanisms were built into the vessel. ”This is too reminiscent of the night I met Swelk. Her death in the flames of the very s.h.i.+p she had successfully escaped . . . it's so awful. I can't help but picture Rualf laughing mockingly.”

”Convincing the captain to let the reactor shut down . . . she saved our lives, the lives of untold millions.

She really is a hero.”

”I know.”

He could no more stand still here, baking in the intense heat of the fire, than he'd been able to sit and watch from across the concrete ap.r.o.n. He started limping around the s.h.i.+p; Darlene followed in silence.

There was a second open airlock. Through heat s.h.i.+mmers and smoke he saw motion within. Survivors?

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