“Don’t forget happiness,” Hellbane said.
Bakshi nodded. “Query search: How can I make myself happy again? Query search: What’s the relationship between food and happiness?” He paused. “Query search: What makes kittens so damned cute?” He exhaled sharply. “If all that doesn’t get me targeted by Kawaii ads, nothing will.”
“Hopefully soon enough to help us,” Roz said. She looked at Micah. “There’s your blockade. Now tell us . . . what exactly is Icelus planning to transmit?”
“We’re thinking spores. Copies of the virus that can infect the other stations, working independently toward a common goal.”
“Shit,” Hellbane muttered. “That’s fucked.”
“Whatever it’s planning won’t be good for humanity,” Roz said. “That much is certain.”
“Got one!” Bakshi announced, startling all of them. Then he scowled. “God help us, this ad’s got dancing chihuahuas.”
“Just get the code,” Sisi said.
“Duh.” He sighed heavily. “I hear there’s a special circle of hell for people who disseminate dancing chihuahuas.”
“If Icelus did send out spores,” Roz said, “they’d all share its sentience.”
Hellbane nodded. “And its hatred of mankind.”
“That’s probably why it didn’t set up shop on Harmony before this,” Micah said. “It didn’t want to risk its presence being detected before it was ready for an all-out blitz.”
Roz was about to respond when an image appeared on the room’s vid screen: a sleek silver ship framed by a field of stars. “Countdown’s starting.” She glanced at Bakshi. “How is that ad coming?”
“Pressuring me is good,” he muttered. “Doesn’t distract me at all.”
Numbers appeared in the lower right-hand corner of the screen. 100. 99. 98.
Four of them gathered around the vidscreen, watching in silence as the numbers changed. After 60, a thin black line appeared along the belly of the ship. Gradually it widened, the shell parting like insect wings. Slowly, so slowly. You would never know from watching the image that the ship was hurtling through deep space at incredible speeds. The cambots kept perfect pace with it, giving it the illusion of motionlessness.
“There!” Bakshi announced. “On its way. And just in time. Channels are already being reassigned, no doubt to accommodate that.” He looked at the screen. “Now we just pray we were fast enough to make a difference.”
Half the galaxy was supposedly watching this. Is their feed still clear? Micah wondered. Or was it faltering little by little as the cybersphere filled with dancing chihuahuas, thousands upon thousands of them, crowding out all other transmissions? Or would the feed black out suddenly, the signal extinguished when Harmony’s overloaded system shut down to save itself?
Everything was riding on that question.
The belly of the harvester was fully open now, revealing smaller ships nested inside. Each one carried within it precious cargo of mass and banked energy: things that couldn’t be generated in deep space, only imported. This was the lifeblood of the outworlds.
5. 4. 3. 2. 1.
The swallows were released.
They fell free from the mothership, spread their wings, and took up position around her. The tissue-thin wings were solar collectors, and had no purpose in deep space, but they made for a glorious spectacle. Soon the sky was full of silver bird-ships that glittered like stars as they reflected the harvester’s exterior lights. Some were uncluttered, their cargo hidden inside their hulls, while others clutched treasures to their bellies. Yet others dragged massive objects behind them. It was the wealth of countless worlds, broken up into manageable portions so it could be delivered more easily to Harmony’s receiving station. The mothership itself would never stop.
Micah was startled out of his reverie by a com notification. He engaged the audio feed on his headset and heard Ru’s voice.
You watching the deployment?
“It’s on the screen now.”
Roz and Sisi looked over to see who he was talking to. He pointed to the com control on his headset.
Do you see the cambot that we spotted earlier? It’s in the same position as before, right up against the harvester? Easy to miss.
He walked closer to the image and peered at it. “Yeah, I see it. It’s the only one without wings.”
That’s because it’s not a cambot. It matches the sparrows—except for the missing wings—but it’s made of different material. The same kind of material Hydra used to construct its flyways. And according to my scanners, it doesn’t have enough mass to be full of cargo.
The look on Micah’s face must have alerted the others to the fact that something interesting was going on. Roz mouthed, What is it?
“Can I put you on speaker?” he asked Ru.
Who’s with you?
“Four partners in crime. All trusted. No one else.”
Go ahead.
A quick visualized command engaged the external speaker on his headset. “All right. They’re listening now.”
It also doesn’t have any doors, Micah. No mooring hatch, no airlock, no sign of any way for a person to get in or out, or even for cargo to be unloaded. It clearly wasn’t designed for human use. And look at the design. Perfect for getting close to Harmony without being noticed.
“Any clue what’s inside?”
Sorry, no. It’s sealed up tight.
“Any transmissions?”
None that I’ve detected yet. I’m watching.”
“That may be because of us,” Roz said. “We shut down the channel it needed to use. It’s probably waiting for it to open again.”
“Which it will soon enough,” Bakshi warned. He was looking at his workscreen, and his expression was not encouraging. “Security’s analyzing the assault. It won’t be long before it figures out what’s causing the problem, and either removes or circumvents it.”
“At which point,” Hellbane said, “whatever this wingless bird came to share with the outworlds is going to be sent. And we can’t do fuck-all to stop it.”
“We can if we take control of that ship,” Sisi said quietly.
Micah looked at her. “Can you hack into its navigation?”
“Not from here. Too much interference. I’d have to be closer.”
“Translation: we’ll need a ship.” Hellbane looked pointedly at Micah.