“Have we got any information on that?” Wilson asked Anna.
“Admiral,” Dimitri said, “with respect, this is not relevant right now. You have to focus on Hell’s Gateway and how it can be disabled. While the Primes retain the ability to open wormholes into Commonwealth space, they can drop flare bomb after flare bomb into any of our stars. We have just shown them we possess doomsday weapons; and we have enough evidence that they are conducting a pogrom against us. Their retaliatory strike will be swift and utterly lethal. You must stop them. The next hour will decide whether there will even be a Commonwealth for people to move through.”
Wilson nodded slowly as he began his feedback breathing exercise. He could feel his hands shaking in the unnatural silence. The refugees had been a classic displacement diversion. Truth was, he didn’t want to make the next round of decisions. This is too much to ask one person. I’m not ready. A little self-derisive guffaw slipped out of his lips, bringing him strange looks. Exactly how long does it take to prepare? I’ve had three hundred years, goddamnit.
“Anna, tell the Cairo and the Baghdad to fly directly to Hell’s Gateway. They are to use quantumbusters against the Prime facilities they find there. I want those force fields broken, and the gateway generators destroyed.”
“Yes, sir.” She began to relay instructions to Fleet Command.
He studied the tactical display. Now he’d gone and done it, committed himself to accepting the responsibility, the decisions and orders were actually quite logical and easy. His heart was beating away normally inside his chest again.
“How long?” Doi asked.
“It’ll take them three days to get there, which might be too long, but then again it might not. And if they can’t get close to Hell’s Gateway they can kick the shit out of that star with quantumbusters. That should cause some damage to the Primes stationed there.”
“I understand,” Doi said. She sounded defeated, as if it were all over.
Wilson didn’t want to look at her. If the Primes started firing flare bombs at other stars, then the Commonwealth was as good as dead already. They had three days to implement such an action. I’ve given them three days.
The tactical display was showing him quantumbusters detonating to extinguish the flare bombs already active. The flares and the explosions combined were sending lethal torrents of radiation toward the hapless Commonwealth planets.
“Warn the planetary authorities,” Wilson said. “Tell people to get under cover.”
“They’re already doing that,” Rafael said. “Wilson, I’m sorry, but this has to be done.”
“Yes.” He took a deep breath, reviewing the tactical display as it showed him the radiation gushing out from the quantumbuster explosions that would ultimately result in the deaths of millions of people. On his order.
“Bad day,” Nigel Sheldon murmured. “And getting worse.”
His expanded mentality slipped into the arrays governing CST wormhole generators on Wessex. Traffic in and out of the station had already shut down on his earlier order, leaving the wormholes empty. He disconnected eight of them from their remote gateways, and pulled their exits back into the Wessex system. Sensors above the Big15 world located the Prime wormholes for him. Over three thousand ships had already come through. The Primes had also fired a flare bomb into the local star. Tokyo had launched a quantumbuster to knock it out.
“We’re going to lose the planet’s entire bloody harvest,” Alan Hutchinson groaned. “The force fields will protect Narrabri, but the continents are completely exposed.”
“I know.”
The quantumbuster detonated.
“Jesus fucking wept.” Alan Hutchinson spat. Sensors revealed the full damage that Prime and human weapons inflicted on the tormented star. “That’s more than quadrupled the radiation emission. All they have to do is keep on firing flare bombs at us. The cure is as bad as the problem.”
“Hang on, Alan. I might be able to stop this.” Nigel was tracking the Charybdis through a directional TD channel created by the ship’s drive. The frigate was closing fast on one of the Prime wormholes, and there was no sign of it on any hysradar in the system. So let’s hope the Primes can’t see it, either. “Are you ready?” he asked Otis.
“Yes, Dad.”
“Here we go.” Nigel issued a stream of instructions into the wormhole generators he commanded. This time he didn’t need help from the SI. CST had upgraded the Wessex RIs to manipulate the open-ended wormholes in an aggressive mode.
MorningLightMountain watched the human starships launch their superbombs into the stars where it had planted corona-rupture machines. In every case, the massive explosion eliminated its machines. It had not expected such retaliation. If they had such weapons, why hadn’t they used them against the staging post or its own homeworld? Surely their ethics wouldn’t prevent them?