Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [120]
After disembarking in the open bay of one of the giant rammers, Tasia glanced around. The walls and decks looked unfinished, like mere stage props. These ships had no need for amenities or refinements. As long as the components were fused together properly, as long as the engines could provide the necessary thrust in the final moments, and as long as the hull was thick enough, the rammers would fulfill their purpose.
“It’s a battleship, not a spa,” Tasia reminded herself aloud.
“We can have all the amenities we want once we get back home,” said Darby Vinh. “I’m already looking forward to a steam bath in a sealed chamber.”
“We’re all looking forward to you taking a bath, Vinh,” teased Erin Eld. The other volunteers chuckled, but it was a halfhearted sound. The six dunsels made their way to the command bridge to receive detailed briefings.
Around the bridge and up and down the corridors, numerous Soldier compies marched to their stations, silently following their programming.
When the volunteers had settled down and turned their attention to the briefing, a line commander projected blueprints and explained the workings of the rammers. “EDF certification crews have completed their inspections, and forty-seven of our sixty rammers are deemed ready for deployment. By tomorrow the last thirteen should be certified and online. Soldier compies will service all systems in the unpressurized areas—which is most of the ship. You six will be in charge of ten rammers each, which you will guide from a special control deck. Only one rammer in ten is equipped with life support on the bridge, so be sure you get aboard the right ship.” He didn’t seem to be making a joke.
“In particular, take note of the evacuation systems built into each of the six vessels that will carry a human commander. We’ve set it up so you can all survive.”
As the other dunsels reassured themselves about the precautions, Tasia shook her head. “I know you’re attempting to give us a fighting chance, but considering that we’re all obviously expendable, how much faith does the EDF expect us to have in its escape plan?”
The briefing instructor frowned at her. “Your attitude is unhelpful, Commander Tamblyn. We have made every effort to ensure that the systems operate properly.”
“In theory,” Tasia said.
“I have full confidence in our theories.”
“We’ll test them and let you know, sir,” Tasia said, forcing a smile. “I’ve been spoiling to kill drogues for years. I’m ready to go.”
Chapter 57—BRANSON ROBERTS
After rescuing Orli Covitz and old Hud Steinman, the Blind Faith raced away from Corribus at top speed. Adrenaline surged through BeBob’s bloodstream like the ekti circulating in his Ildiran stardrive. He still couldn’t get over the holocaust he had seen. The burgeoning human colony had been wiped out, blasted, burned, vaporized.
Klikiss robots? Soldier compies? EDF ships?
In flight, the two refugees used the Faith ’s onboard facilities to clean up. Although BeBob gave them food from his standard mealpax—anything tasted good after roast furry crickets, they said—and dug up baggy but comfortable new clothes, the pair still looked battered and disheveled, Orli especially. The girl’s eyes had a haunted, hollow look as she sat clutching a cup of thin cocoa.
“Don’t worry, missy.” BeBob patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll find someone to take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself, but I’ve got to have at least half a chance.” The defiance in her voice was very small. “Those robots didn’t give anyone a break. If they’d known I was hiding up in that cliff wall, I’d be dead too.”
“I’ll get you back to Earth. The EDF needs to know what happened. You’ve got to tell them everything, even if it’s hard on you. What if those robots attack other colonies?”
“They probably will.” Orli’s shoulders trembled.
BeBob’s seamed face formed a paternal,