"How long?" Amos ben Sierra Nueva said desperately



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slashed off short with energy beams, and the cutpoints

were tattered. People were generally not sloppy with cut-

ting tools. Enemies were. Simeon relayed a standard

"please identify" message and put the tugbays on standby.


"Nor am I abristle," he continued to Channa. "The

inspectors will be when they come, though."


Channa groaned. "Even for you that was lame.

You're being unusually ridiculous, Simeon. You know

the mentality that goes with these inspections N sen-

tence first, trial afterwards."


"In other words, off with our heads, if they could

reach mine."


"And us running as fast as we can to stay in one place,

too. Which capability you also don't have. Now, since

this is my first time with you.. .
"Oh, Channa... pant, pant
"Simeon," she said warningly. "I know where the

controls for your hormone balance are."


"Heh hen, sorry. What's the worst they can do to

me? Send me back to asteroidic purgatory? Like I told

you, I'm only on temporary duty here anyway."
Channa had been running a scan. "There are twelve

entries for the word 'stuff'! You want this to be a tem-

porary assignment? Well, you may get your wish."
"It's not a wish, my dear, I never said 'I wish they'd

take me away from here and put me anywhere else.'

I've a very definite destination in mind, as you so

astutely concluded the other evening. If I had my


THE Crrv WHO FOUGHT
77
druthers, I'd be running a command ship and waging

star wars on the Axial Perimeter. But," and he gave a

huge audible sigh, "wbo believes in wishes anymore?"
"You do, with all your war games and tactical

daydreams."


The approaching ship still had not responded, nor

was it dumping speed as fast as it should. In fact,

whoever was in command had waited much too long to

begin doing so. The flare of drive energies should be

blanking out that whole quadrant, and the neutrino

flux was barely enough for a pile just ticking over.

Simeon came to a disagreeable conclusion.
"Whoa, there, Channa. We've got stuff, not mine,

coming in to make mince of us if we're not careful.

Have a look?"
Simeon slapped up a main screen view of the

intruder bearing down on them. Surprise and alarm

held her motionless for only a split second before she

reacted.
"I'm alerting the perimeter guard," she said, wiping

her previous program and inputing the new.
"Right!" Although he already had, two sources of the

same alert emphazised the emergency. "I'm busy cal-

culating how to cushion the impact of that great

hulking mass whistling towards us. I hope they know

where the brakes are." Nice to have a brawn to share

emergency work. The station personnel should get

used to dealing with her.
Stabbing the alert button on the main console,

Channa then called up a finer resolution of the object,

which to her appeared to be a darker mass against the

black of space.


"Unannounced arrival!" She transmitted the image

to the personnel on perimeter traffic control, alerting

them to the pertinent vector and ordering them to

begin rerouting incoming traffic.


"How do you know it's ivhistting toward us?" she
78
Aftne McCaffrey fc? 5 M. Stirling
asked in as calm a voice as he was using while her

fingers flew over the controls. "There's no sound in

space."
Simeon could detect just a micro-tremor of fear in

her noncommittal tone. "If I think it whistles," he

answered, "it whisdes."
"Perimeter says it's like nothing they've ever seen

before either and N" she paused and licked her lips

"N it's about to cut a broad swath through the proper

traffic pattern."


Simeon took full control of the traffic control boards.

He could see and respond to die necessary changes in

traffic patterns faster than any unshelled human. He

was simultaneously redirecting and responding to

dozens of ships.
Suddenly Channa started cursing. "Damn their eyes

and innards! These damned civilians are asking ques-

tions instead of doing what they're supposed to in

emergency routines. Now you see why I didn't like you

calling those false alarms. No one's paying a blind bit of

attention to tkasgenuine emergency! Wolf-cryer!"


"I've put it on every public screen. They'll know it's

no drill," Simeon said, his voice velvet with malice, "and

it's coming straight at us. I don't think it'll stop,"
I didn't realize you could banter when you're terrified, he

thought with tight control, though it helped being able

to set your analogue of adrenal glands.
Channa stared, stunned, as the screen filled with the

alien ship. "You haven't activated the repel screen? Hit

it for God's sake!" She pressed her rocker switch just a

fraction of a second behind Simeon.


Joat gritted her teeth and wiped eyes and nose on

the back of her sleeve. It was a good shirt, and dean.

Dumb, she told herself fiercely. Dumb, dumb, dumb bitch,

dumb gash, just like the captain told you you were. Especially

when he was drunk. He'd always been worse then.
THE crry WHO FOUGHT
79
She turned her attention back to the little computer.

It was the best she'd ever been able to steal, a real

Spuglish; jacked into the station system right now, with

the skipper-unit she'd cobbled up to keep the station

from knowing just where or why.
Ship schedules / departures / outsystem, she told it

Machines didn't lie to you! You could trust machines

and, if they didn't do what they were supposed to, it

wasn't because they had lied. Maths and machinery

could be believed.
A barking sob broke through her lips, spattering

drops on the screen. She bit down on her hand until

the pain and the taste of her own blood let her con-

tinue. Then she wiped the machine down with the tail

of her shirt Machines didn't let you down, either.
Departures, the computer said. Look, Joat, you

don't have to leave here. Trust me, we'reN


"No!" she screamed.
Joat stuffed the scramblers into her pockets and

went off down the duct at a scrambling crawl, ignoring

projections and brackets that only slighdy impeded her

progress. The motions were reflexive, with a graceless

efficiency.
Nobody's going to give me away again, she thought. Get

me used to eating regular and school and everything, then give

me away! The thought went round and round in her

head, filling it, so that it was minutes before the klaxon

penetrated her self-absorption.
"Oh, shit," she whispered in a still small voice, listen-

ing. Then she turned and went back the way she came,

faster still The computer was back there, and without it,

she wouldn't be able to find out what was really going on.


Her spacesuit was diere, too. This sounded serious.
"THIS IS NO DRILL! REPEAT, THIS IS NO

DRILL1" The words rang down the corridors and

haUspaces, without the melodramatic klaxons Simeon
80
Anne McCaffrey fc? SM. Stating
had always used. "Nonessential personnel report to

secure areas. Report to secure areas. Prepare for breach

of hull integrity."
This time the citizens of the SSS-900-C listened, hasten-

ing into suits, gathering children and pets and heading for

the central core or section shelters. Crews pelted onto their

ships, even as moorings were detached and entry locks

irised shut and each "all on board" signal was relayed to

Simeon. Emergency crews flocked to their assigned sta-

tions. Infirmary patients who could not be moved were

placed in individual, independently powered life-support

units. All too soon, most of the citizens of SSS-900-C could

only wait, imagining their station crushed like an egg as

die invader plowed into them.
Simeon worked frantically, ordering ships of all sizes

out of the projected path of the incoming ship, brutally

suppressing the knowledge that ships with ordinary,

unshelled pilots could barely handle the split second

timing he was asking of them. So for, so good N no one

out there seemed destined to die today. For a heart-

stopping moment he thought the alien might be

decelerating, but the blaze of energies sputtered and

died. It's only shed 7% of relative velocity, he calculated dis-

mally. Not nearly enough.


"Why didn't they program mobility?"

"Who?" Channa asked distractedly. "Where?"

"In me! In this station! I can't duck! I've no weapon-

ry to blast it out of my way. I can't even fend off such

mass. All I can do is watch. What lasers I've got can just

about handle a decent-sized meteor. The best I can do

is warm up his hull a little, and I have to wait till he's up

my ass to do it! Damn! This station is like a paraplegic

spaceship!"
"Whoa! Did you see that?" Channa shouted. The

mass had seemed to deliberately veer aside from an

ordinary asteroid miner vessel, something the miner

pilot himself probably couldn't have done. "Watch,"


THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT
81
she said, "there! Did you see? It jigged just a bit to miss

that incoming ferry traffic It is being guided."


"But by what?" Simeon asked. He ran calculations

on the ballistics of those maneuvers. The deviations

were absolutely minimal for the effect. "It's traveling so

fast now, no human pilot could stop it and stay con-

scious. TTiey don't answer any radio messages. TTiey're

ignoring the.damn warning flares. Shit, maybe they

think we're welcoming them. Ah, goodF
"But they are decelerating again, Simeon," Channa

said, glancing up from her own screens to the main

viewer before she went back to other chores which she

had assumed.


"Yeah, marginally longer this time. No, cutting out

N no, decelerating again. Rate of energy-release ...

God, but they're still not dumping enough velocity!

And still on a collision course!" His voice went slightly

wild. "They mustwant to destroy me!"
"I don't see any weapons," Channa said, trying to

finish her current task in time.


"Who can tell in that jumble of struts and boxes and

crap! Besides, that thing itself is a weapon." Simeon had

just one card to play and at exactly the right moment

for maximum effect. "You're not even suited up,

partner. At least take shelter in my shaft core, Channa."
She shook her head, "Not till I'm dirough evacuating

the alien quadrant 'Sides, those Letheans scare easily

enough as it is without me appearing in full gear."
She had managed at last to get through to the leader

of the Lethe contingent. A people so formal that emer-

gencies required a ceremony, mercifully brief, for

deferring the usual endless courtesies in favor of sur-

vival. Had Channa not performed the ceremony and

explained the situation to them, they would have died

rather than commit such a breach of manners as

assuming that something was actually wrong. She

broke the connection at last and exclaimed, 'JoatT
82
Arme McCaffrey & S.M. Stirling
"She has a suit," Simeon said, "first thing I gave her.

She's probably in it right now. Why aren't you?"


She dashed for the cabinet holding her space suit

and began to struggle into it


"Come to me, Channa," he said, in a wildly facetious

tone, "come, touch the hard, male core of my inner-

most being."
"Ee-yuck, is that the sort of romance you've been

studying? Try another mode."


"When I've world enough and time, lovely one, but

have a look at what I've managed to arrange as stop signs."


Seemingly from out of nowhere, three communica-

tions satellites came diving towards the incoming ship,

two striking it head on and one slightly astern. Whole

sections of die scaffolding and outer skin of the derelict

sublimed in white flashes that expanded into circles

with zero-g perfection. The alien ship was not slowed

N there was too much kinetic energy in that mass N

but its vector altered slightly.


"Comsats aren't supposed to be able to move like

that!" Channa exclaimed tightly. Simeon's sensors

could hear the pounding of her heart, analyze the

ketones her sweat-damp skin was emitting. Fear under

hard control. The lady has guts, he thought.
"A little something I cooked up on my own," he said

smugly.
"Cooked in the wrong sort of pot, you crazy loon.

Without those satellites, we'll be out of communication

with half the universe for weeks."


"Channa, if I hadn't done that we'd be out of com-

munication with the all of the universe permanently.

Besides, my satellite tactic worked!"
Channa looked up at the main monitor and saw that

the projected vector had skewed slightly. "Not

enough," she muttered. "Please don't use any more of

our comm satellites like billiard balls, Simeon. If we do

survive this, they'll be needed more than ever."
THE CTTY WHO FOUGHT
83
"Oh-oh," Simeon muttered.
"Oh-oh?" she repeatedly anxious.
It means, I screwed the pooch, Channa, Simeon thought

Aloud he went on. "SS Conrad, dump your carrier

modules and get out of that sector. You are now directly

in the path of the incoming ship."


"No-can-do SSS-900-C. I've got a full load here. The

company'll have my ass if I desert it"


"The company'll have to hold a seance to get it, then,

'cause if you stay put, you're about to become immortaL

Jump it!"
"Now!" Channa shouted. "It's less than two

k-thousand kilometers from you. Now, dammit!"


"No shit!" the pilot shouted and disconnected the

"cab," the crew quarters and control section of the ship,

from the much larger freight storage sections.
They watched the tiny cab move with agonizing

slowness across the seemingly endless bow of the

strange ship.
"Down on station horizon," Simeon instructed,

"ninety-degrees, straight down."


"Down? You want me to stop? With that bastard

coming right for me! Are you crazy?"


"It's your only chance, buddy. She's shallow on the

bottom but, by Ghu, is she wide! Show me what kind of

pilot you are! Not what kind of smear you'll make."
Obediently, the little ship flared energy, applying

thrust at right-angles to its previous vector. Its path

shifted, slowly at first and then with growing speed like

a bell-curve graph across a computer screen. Slowly,

slowly, descending, a bright spot against the ever larger

mass approaching them.


"Oh shit, oh shit," the captain whispered desper-

ately. "Help?"


The intruder was less than a kilometer away, now,

from the cab which looked like a white pin-point

against the black hull of the stranger. At half a
84
AnruMcCaffrey 6? SM. Stating
kilometer it cleared the leading edge of the incoming

ship and the pilot began to laugh wildly.


"Keep going," Simeon ordered sharply, to be heard

through the hysteria. "It's about to hit your freighter.

Keep moving till I tell you to stop."
"It's ore," the captain gasped though he sounded

more as if he was weeping, "iron ore. Nickel-iron-

carboniferous, in ten-kilo globules,7
Atu, crap! Simeon thought, as the intruder struck the

freighter with majestic slowness. The forward third of its

hull vanished in the fireball, and so did much of the

freighter's cargo. The energy-release and spectrographic

analysis would tdl him a good deal about the composition.

Right now he had millions of special delivery meteors

pouring down from the breached holds onto his station.

Greatexample ofNewtonian physics, actionand reaction.


The collison had, serendipitously, damped much of

the incoming ship's remaining velocity, but the frag-

ments of ship and cargo had picked it up for

themselves. He tracked the myriad trajectories of the

space flotsam and relayed the information to the ships

in the scatter area, directing them into still more impos-

sible flight patterns. He assigned the computer

responsibility for tracking and blasting the larger

chunks of ore with the station's lasers. No problems

with dispersion when the stuff was in your face. On the

other hand, there was one hell of a lot of it Simeon set

the computer to figuring out just how much would get

through.
He realized that Channa was staring at the monitor

in horrified fascination. "Hey Hap, Happy baby, get in

the shaft core."
"Why?" she asked. "It's stopping."
"Slowing, yes, but if it so much as kisses me on the

cheek, it'll breach the station and you're on a one-way

trip to the nebula. We need you here, so shaft me

baby."
THE CITY WHO FOUGHT


85
"Shaft yourself," she said. "It has come to a complete

cessation of forward movement"


A final flare of energy left the aft third of the

intruder's hull slumping and melting, the drive cores

and conduction vanes white-hot and misting titanium-

rutile monofiber.


"So it has," Simeon said mildly.
Channa gave a giddy whoop and slumped against die

central shaft, trying to wipe at the sweat that filmed her

face. Her glove dadoed against the faceplate ofher helmet
"Dead, stock still," he said, feeling intense relief.

"Relative to the station, that is."


With a glance at his column, Channa hit the discon-

nect switch and the red warning lights stopped

flashing. Simeon began to announce stand-down to

Condition Yellow in dulcet, paternal tones. Channa

took off her helmet and began to confer with the Lethe

leader, reestablishing the usual formal relations.


When at last they disconnected from their various

crucial chores, Channa looked at her incoming

electronic messages and laughed. "By God, but we're a

resilient species. Look at these."


Simeon scanned them and laughed, too. "I haven't

even finished flushing the excess adrenalin from my

system and they're already complaining about lost

cargo and insurance. I love the human race. We're con-

sistently more concerned with trivia than serious

threats."


"And we're not even out of danger, are we?"
"Out of mortal danger. That thing could have

totaled us. The ore will cause a lot of trouble and

expense, so let's maintain Condition Yellow for a

while."
That would keep nonessentials out of the exterior

compartments, mostly industrial areas anyway, and

everyone in suits with helmets in reach and within

sprinting distance of the shelters. Megacredits of
86
Arme McCaffrey 6f 5M. Stirling
money were being lost, of course, most of which would

be paid by Lloyds' Interstellar.


Channa was examining the strange ship on a dose

screen.
"Next question is who, or what's, aboard.


"And if there's anything left of the pilot captain,"

Simeon added, "who's broken regulations I didn't

know existed till now. I sent out a dozen probes to

secure available information on what's left. Ah! Input!"


The main screen blanked, and then displayed a

schematic of the strange craft, shifting to a three-

dimensional model as the computers extrapolated.
"So that's what it looked like before it started hitting

things and melting down its drives," Simeon mur-

mured as brain and brawn surveyed an elongated

sphere amid its tangle of extensions. "And now I'D sub-

tract what doesn't appear to be part of the original

construction."


The resulting model didn't look much like the

slagged ruin tumbling slowly through space in the

real-time image that Simeon kept up in the lower right-

hand corner of the screen. Channa leaned forward and

frowned at such an unfamiliar design. Huge it certainly

was. At least eighty kilotons mass, with extravagant

ship-bays and airlocks, old-fashioned cooling vanes

around the equator...


"That looks like human construction," she said

thoughtfully. "Just not any model I've ever seen or

heard about" Human civilization had been unified at

the beginning of starflight and their ships bore a family

resemblance.
"It does look vaguely human-made," Simeon agreed,

"but I can't even find a match in historical files of Janes'All

the Galaxy's Spaceships for the last century. The composition

is odd, too; metal-metal fiber matrix. Ferrous alloys. No

comparable design for the last two centuries. Hmmm."
"Something?"
THE Crry WHO FOUGHT
87
"This." He called up an image beside the

reconstructed ship.


"Close but no cigar," Channa said.
"That's the last of a, line of heavy transports N that

one was a Central Worlds space-navy troop-transport

Designers were Dauvigishipili and Sons. They used to

make a lot of militaty craft, operated on stations out of

the New Lieutas system. See, there is some use to being

a military historian. Ah, tere."


The image changed and now there was a virtual

one-to-one match.


"Colonial transport," Simeon said. "They stopped

building them about three hundred years ago, so it

could be up to four hundred years old. Original

capacity was ten thousand colonists, in coldsleep of

course, with a crew of thirty. There were a lot of odd lit-

de colonies back then, people looking for places where

they could practice as weird a religion as they wanted

and not have the Central Worlds bugging them. The

few that survived are still pretty flaky. Are you

surprised to learn that the ship-class was called the

Manifest Destiny vehicle? A few of the later models had

brain controllers before Central Worlds put a stop to

that practice on humane grounds. Some of those

minor cults were N" he made a brief pause to consult

his lexicon "N aberrant! Hmm, and I'd bet this one got

transmogrified into an orbital station. Look at all that

stuffi"
"Your kind of 'stuff'?" asked Channa ingenuously.
"Gadgetry," he amended in a firm, this-is-serious

voice, "plastered on the exterior: observation stuff,

transmission stuff, the usual. And intended to be used

in orbit. I mean, who would try to fly any ship with all

that crap sticking out? For starters, the thrust axis

wouldn't be through the center of mass anymore, so

for starters, it's unbalanced."
Channa scanned through more probe transmissions,
88
Arme McCaffrey fc? 5M. Stirling
induding some views taken by the perimeter sensors as

the hulk barreled in, so they could see the havoc caused

by collision and too-rapid deceleration.


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