Fortune's Stroke

He pointed at the cargo ship nestled among the Malwa galleys. They were less than two miles away. He was smiling, not like a man, but like a wolf smiles, seeing a fat and crippled caribou.

"That, my friends, is not a subordinate's ship. That is the best Link could do, replacing Great Lady Holi's luxury barge in Kausambi."

The smile vanished completely. Nothing was left, beyond pure ferocity.

"I own that monster, now. Finally."

* * *

Belisarius' quiet, seething rage brought hidden, half-conscious thoughts to the surface. For the first time, Aide realized Belisarius' full intentions. Sooner, perhaps, than Belisarius did himself.

No! he cried. You must not! It will kill you!

Belisarius started. There had been sheer panic in that crystalline voice.

What is wrong, Aide? Forcefully: We're not going to have this argument again. I've led charges in battle, often enough.

That was different! You were fighting men, not a cyborg. Men who wanted to live, as much as you. Life means nothing to Link—not even its own!

Long minutes followed, while Belisarius waged a fierce argument with Aide. His companions, from experience, understood the meaning of his silence and his unfocused eyes. But, as the minutes passed, they grew concerned—none more so than Antonina. Not since they first encountered Aide, and he transported Belisarius into a vision of future horror, had she seen her husband spend so much time in that peculiar trance.

When he finally emerged, his face was bleak. Bleak, but bitterly determined.

Belisarius pointed to the Malwa cargo ship in which, if he was correct, Link was waiting. The ship was not more than a mile distant, now. Already, kshatriyas were erecting rocket troughs on the deck.

"There is something you should know. Aide just explained it to me. There is a reason the new gods choose women as the vessels for Link. Great Lady Holi, today. If she dies, Link will be transferred into the person—the body, I should say—of her niece, Sati. She is probably still in Kausambi. If Sati dies, there will be another girl, in that same line. Somewhere in Kausambi also, in all likelihood."

He paused, groping for a way to translate Aide's concepts. The effort was hopeless. Words like "genetics" and "mitochondrial DNA" would mean nothing to his companions. He barely understood them himself.

He waved his hand. "Never mind the specifics. Link is part machine, part human. The machine part, the core of it, is somewhere in India. Probably in Kausambi also. Its consciousness is passed, upon her death, from one woman to her successor. The new Link, once it's—`activated,' let's call it—has all the memories of the old one, up till the time she last—" Again, he groped for words. "Communicated with the machine."

He paused. Maurice, eagerly, filled the void. "You know what that means?" he demanded. The chiliarch gripped the rail fiercely, glaring at the enemy ship. "What it means," he hissed, "is that if we kill that old bitch, the Malwa will be thrown into complete confusion. The new Link—what's her name? Sati?—won't know what's happened since Holi left. That's been a year and a half, now! It'll take her months—months—to get things reorganized."

He turned from the rail, eager—eager. "God, General, that's perfect! We need that time, ourselves. Sure, we won this battle. But our troops are exhausted, too. We need to refit, and hook back up with Agathius and the Persians, and send another mission to Majarashtra, and—"

He stumbled to a halt. Maurice, finally, saw the other side of the thing.

Antonina had understood at once. Her face was pale.

"You can't board that ship! Link will commit suicide! It has no reason not to. It's not human, it's just a—a vessel. A tool." She almost gasped. "It'll want to! The last thing it can afford is to be captured."

All of them, now, understood the implication. So why not take its enemy with it?

"It'll have that ship rigged," muttered Maurice. "Doing it right now, probably. Ready to blow it up once you're aboard."

Antonina ignored him. She was pale, pale. She knew that expression on Belisarius' face. Knew it all the better because it was so rare.

"I don't give a damn," he snarled. "I've been fighting that monster for four years. I'm tired of tactics and strategy. I'm just going to kill it."

Protest began to erupt, until a new voice spoke.

"Of course we will!" boomed Ousanas. "Nothing to it!"

All eyes fixed upon him. The aqabe tsentsen grinned. "Under other circumstances, of course, the deed would be insane. Foolish, suicidal!" He shrugged. "But you forget—you have me!" He began prancing around, lunging with his spear. "Terrible! A demon!"