“What happened?”

“The artifact responded.”

Hiroshigi was silent for a moment. “I see.”

Sobran was giving away nothing the Keiretsu admiral wouldn’t be able to find out for himself in short order. Besides, the Federals and the Keis weren’t at war. Both fleets had been hastily assembled and sent screaming through tachyspace toward Earth in hopes of securing eventual commercial advantage, not conquest. Hopefully things wouldn’t get out of hand. Sobran intended to do his utmost to ensure they would not, and he was confident Hiroshigi felt the same way.

His counterpart conversed with someone out of view, then readdressed a pickup. “I am informed that the amount of energy expended was far beyond that needed to interdict a mere four ships.”

“No kidding. Tell that to the artifact.”

“We have heard that the artifact communicates with five elderly humans it has taken on board. I must confess that originally this was thought to be part of some elaborate Federal ploy. In light of recent discoveries this clearly is not so.”

“We thought the same of you.”

“What of this mysterious five?”

“We’ve had no contact with the artifact yet.” Sobran smiled dourly. “The nature of its sole response to date leaves me feeling kind of apprehensive. You could move in and try to contact it. We know that the Chakans did. I’d be happy to give you their former coordinates.”

“Thank you.” Hiroshigi smiled thinly. “We will maintain our present position while we consider how best to proceed.”

Sobran’s battle engineer gestured for him to bend over, out of pickup range. “We have a third fleet approaching, sir. Much smaller. Ten to twenty vessels maximum. From the nature of their scanning we believe them to be Candombleans.”

The admiral nodded absently. No doubt the Eeck would soon arrive in strength, as would the Victoria League and anyone else with a ship or two to spare. They didn’t worry him. Hiroshigi was the one who mattered here.

“We intend to do the same,” Sobran informed his opposite number as he straightened in his chair. “Thus far the artifact has only reacted defensively, but we have no idea of what its actual capabilities may be. Until the Chakans arrived no one even knew it was armed. Given the extent of the demonstration we witnessed, I don’t want to be the one to test its limits.”

“Nor I,” Hiroshigi admitted.

“Therefore, I propose temporary cooperation: sharing of data, prior notification of movements, and so on. It might prevent an anxious moment.”

Hiroshigi consulted briefly off-pickup, nodded when he reappeared. “It is agreed.”

“Good. The appearance of the FFF and the Keiretsu working together should be enough to forestall any hasty maneuvers on the part of other league forces. No one wants to provoke this thing.”

“Excuse me, sir.” His battle engineer had been listening intently to the broadcast unit fitted to her right ear. “We have a problem.”

Sobran frowned irritably and excused himself from Hiroshigi’s view. “What?”

The battle engineer hesitated. “It seems that all the entertainment systems on board have self-activated and are broadcasting twentieth-century music at maximum volume.”

The admiral was not pleased. “Is that any reason for interrupting an upper-level interfleet conference?”

“It’s not just the flagship, sir. The same thing is happening on every other ship in the fleet.”

Sobran blinked. “Interesting coincidence.”

“That’s not all, sir. All automatic clothes washing and cleaning facilities have been activated, even though I’m told nearly all are empty.”

Before the admiral could reply a junior engineer appeared at the base of the command chair. “Sir, we have a life-support problem. All centrally controlled toilets are flushing repeatedly and we can’t get Biocon to stop it. If it continues, ship recycling systems will be severely extended.”

“Admiral Sobran?”

He turned back to the screen. Hiroshigi’s expression had not changed. “Sorry. We have some on-board glitches.”

“Ah, you too?” The Keiretsu commander had developed a slight tic above his left eye. “Ours commenced the instant we emerged from tachyspace. Our engineers are very puzzled. The AI-related problems that have been troubling everyone, you know.”

“I certainly do.” Another junior engineer had arrived, out of breath and anxious. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to excuse me again, Hiro.”

The Kei nodded accommodatingly. “I understand.” He turned away. “It appears I also have interruptions to deal with.”

Sobran leaned over and sighed heavily. “What is it this time? Food preparation? Someone’s battle visor playing erovids? Chemical synthesization turning out candy instead of medicinals?”

“No, sir. It’s the shuttles.”

“What about the shuttles?”

“They’re launching, sir! Not only from the flagship but from every vessel in the fleet. And we can’t stop them.”

Sobran considered. There were two dozen of the small, self-contained craft aboard, able to transport personnel between ships or from orbit to surface, or to evacuate the crew in case of battle damage or other emergency. And each one of them had an AI interface.

“Shut ’em down.”

“We can’t, sir. We tried, but as you know they’re all independently powered and guided. Standard safety redundancy factor.” She took a deep breath. “The Lincoln and the Red Cloud have already lost all their shuttle capacity.” She went quiet for a moment, listening to her earpiece. “There go two more of our own.”

“Where?” Sobran demanded to know, wondering just when it was that he’d lost control and exactly what the hell was going on. “Where are they going?” Everyone within earshot had turned from their console or station to listen and stare.

“Toward the artifact, sir,” the junior engineer finally divulged. “They’re all roaring pell-mell toward the artifact. And they’re doing something else.”

“What else? What more could they do?” Sobran had unpleasant visions of trying to conduct an operation with an evacuation capacity of zero.

“I’m not sure, sir. Just a moment …” She listened again, then gazed up at him. “They’re broadcasting, sir. Slightly different language, but similar in content. Apparently they’re praying.”

The admiral straightened in his chair. Deep in thought, he turned back toward his pickup, his eyes returning to the vid. Hiroshigi was barely visible as he bobbed in and out of view. Apparently he was yelling at someone below the pickup’s effective range. After a few moments of this disorganized activity the vid simply went blank. No formal tendering of dissolution, no friendly farewells, no diplomatic goodbyes; nothing. It was very un-Kei.

“Sir,” said his chief battle engineer, “Scanning reports that shuttles are beginning to leave the Keiretsu fleet as well.”

Sobran nodded his acknowledgment of the information. “I’ve heard about this. Now let’s look at it.” He touched a control in the arm of his chair.

The vid was replaced by a holomag that showed both battle fleets drifting in space between the Homeworld and its moon. Dozens, hundreds, of tiny orange lights were fleeing from the two groupings of brighter green and blue lights that represented the two fleets, like fleas abandoning a pair of sleeping dogs. The orange pinpoints were converging on the large red blip that marked the location of the artifact. A number had begun to orbit it.

Sobran sighed resignedly. “Keep trying to stop the dispersal. Do anything you can. Oh, and see to it that the toilets are fixed. If we have an emergency and can’t leave, at least we can be comfortable in the can.”

XV

“GO away!”

“I beg your pardon?” As the one seated nearest the drifting, flaring Autothor, Shimoda beat a hasty retreat across the green sands. His companions stopped what they’d been doing and looked up anxiously.