A section of his grid expanded into his virtual vision, showing him the Guardians’ train starting its journey across Narrabri station.
“They’ll be through in two minutes,” he told Justine, who was sitting next to him, chewing on a peppermint settler tab.
“Will you shut the gateway after that?”
“Completely. I’m recoding the management routines so that I’m the only person who can activate it. When that’s done I’m going to start firing half of my security operation. This was a total fucking catastrophe.”
“No more than the rest of this war,” she said equitably. “Who knows when the subversion software was loaded in? It could have been sitting in the arrays for decades waiting for today. The Starflyer really thinks and plans ahead. I just hope Bradley Johansson’s counterstrike is up to the task.”
“At least he has a plan,” Nigel said wearily. “I suppose I’d better send a starship to Far Away to provide backup. Oh, hell…”
“What now?” Justine asked.
“According to Johansson, the Starflyer’s going to take off and fly back to Dyson Beta, or somewhere it can link up with its own type.”
“Yes.”
“But it didn’t know we could build FTL starships when it started this conspiracy. We can catch the Marie Celeste at any time in the next six hundred years if it goes back to Dyson Beta at sublight speed.”
“Ah, you’re thinking it modified the Marie Celeste for FTL.”
“At least. I’m just hoping Alster didn’t give it the details of our new hyperdrive. We really would be up shit creek. No.” He shook his head. “We only just built the prototype drive ourselves two weeks ago, and there’s been no transport to Far Away for longer than that. If the Marie Celeste is FTL now, it’ll be using our original continuous wormhole generator.”
Mellanie and Hoshe entered the auditorium; they’d both been to see off Wilson’s team, staying with them while they suited up and caught their transport out to the Guardians’ train.
“Are you angry with me?” Mellanie asked Nigel.
“For what?”
“I was being a bit of a brat when I asked you to open the wormhole.”
“I just wish you’d asked earlier; we might have caught the Starflyer with its pants down.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a demure kiss. Both of them automatically looked over at where Dudley and the Bose motile were standing. Dudley was emphatically not looking in their direction. “Will you open it to get them back?” Mellanie asked.
“Not the main wormhole, no, it’s being converted to time travel, remember. If Wilson and Cat’s Claws do come back from Far Away, we can probably use the exploration division wormhole to retrieve them. I haven’t really thought any of this through. There’s also the question of the Commonwealth’s connection to Far Away as well. Which is going to be difficult and very expensive to renew, especially if the Commonwealth is paying for forty-seven new worlds at the same time. We might just reduce the connection to starship flights, or leave them as an Isolated world.”
“They wouldn’t care,” Mellanie said. “Morton could build himself his empire there. It’s that kind of planet.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t go with them.”
“Really? It’s simple enough. I don’t have a death wish.”
Nigel grinned. “How’s Paula?” he asked Hoshe.
“Not happy. I really don’t think it was a good idea forcing her to go.”
“She’ll survive.” His virtual vision showed him the Guardians’ Ables ND47 turning onto the Boongate line. Cars and small vans were popping through the gateway, where CST security was busy rounding them up. Sensors showed him a force field strengthening around the train. He opened a link to Wilson. “Good luck. I’m going to send a starship to Far Away to support you. It should be there in a week or so.”
“Thanks,” Wilson said. “See you when we get back.”
“Boldly they rode and well,” Adam muttered as the engine lined up on the Boongate gateway. A four-by-four Toyota pickup sped out of the glowing haze that capped the entrance. A CST security division helicopter buzzed over it. “Into the jaws of death.” His virtual hand twisted the power feed, and they began to pick up speed. The force field extended, sweeping out across the rails ahead. “Into the mouth of hell.” Now they didn’t need to be stealthy, he deployed the weapons from their disguised casings. The gold glow from the gateway shone in through the cab windows. Adam smiled in welcome at the placid light; this far above the ground, isolated, running smooth, it was as though he were gliding into the sunset. “Rode the six hundred.”
The Ables ND47 went through the gateway at close to a hundred kilometers an hour. The gold haze tore away from the front of the engine revealing the twilit landscape of the station yard. A big Audi Luxnat ten-seater was trying to turn onto the track. The train smacked into it, shredding the bodywork to splinters of carbon. Adam winced in guilt. Hope the Investigator didn’t see that.