Thousands of immotile groups had considered what defense could be used against the kind of relativistic attack the humans had used at Anshun. The complex machinery that would modify its wormhole generators was already under construction. MorningLightMountain prioritized its completion, and began transferring the first components to the staging post. It also began to assemble its new fleet of warships. When the navy starships arrived, weakening the Commonwealth defenses, it would begin its second expansion stage into Commonwealth space, invading a further forty-eight worlds.

Patricia Kantil and Daniel Alster left the Senate Hall together and shared the express to Kerensk. McClain Gilbert was waiting at the gateway station to escort them. The three of them took a navy shuttle over to Babuyan Atoll, a twenty-minute flight.

“Even after all the preparatory work we’ve done, I can’t believe we’ve reached this stage,” Patricia said. “I don’t mind telling you, the President is very anxious about this.”

“We all are,” Mac said. “This could well be the turning point.”

“Does the Admiral think we have enough ships?” Daniel asked.

“He’ll tell you himself,” Mac said. He gestured at the thick windows set into the cabin’s ceiling. “As you can see, we haven’t been slacking.”

Space around the High Angel was getting crowded. There were now three free-flying ports linked back to Kerensk, delivering passengers and small cargo pods to the shuttles that flew them on to the new navy facilities as well as the archipelago’s industrial stations. The nine warship assembly platforms were much larger than the original models used to construct the first generation of scoutships. Each one had five giant malmetal fabrication spheres arranged around a central gateway section that had a wormhole leading back to Kerensk. Hull sections and components were now conveyed directly to the advanced cybernetic systems that would put them together.

A malmetal ball on platform four was open, revealing one of the new Moscow-class warships as it prepared to disengage. The London was a hundred fifty meters long, its rust-red hull a double sphere, with the forward globe smaller than the rear, and seven rapier-blade thermal radiators protruding from its waist. There was no allusion to aerodynamics this time; the Moscow-class was designed purely as a weapons-delivery ship.

“They look imposing,” Patricia said.

“There’s enough weaponry in one of those to destroy every planet in Earth’s solar system, including Jupiter,” Mac told her. “For once, we have the firepower advantage.”

“I hope you’ve got fail-safes to prevent unauthorized launches,” Daniel said.

Mac gave him a funny look. “The Douvoir missiles have tripartite arming codes. Three members of the crew have to authorize a launch.”

“What if a ship is damaged, and you’ve only got two crew left?” Patricia asked.

“Not going to happen,” Mac assured her. “Anything powerful enough to get through the force field which shields a Moscow-class ship will destroy the entire ship.”

“Ah, I see.” Patricia turned back to the massive alien starship that the shuttle was approaching.

Admiral Kime gave his guests a warm welcome as they arrived in his office at the top of Pentagon II. It was night in Babuyan Atoll, leaving the vast crystal dome clear. Icalanise was a slender cadmium-yellow crescent sinking toward the parkland rim. The rest of space visible overhead was packed with the bright silver shapes of the archipelago, whose research labs and shimmering macrohubs were now complemented by all the new navy stations and platforms. Hundreds of shuttles swarmed between them, their ion rockets creating tenuous electric-blue nebula streaks across the void.

After greeting both Kime and Columbia, Patricia sat beside Oscar. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a wan smile. “Sorry for not getting up. Gravity makes me feel very weak and dizzy right now.”

“Please, don’t apologize.”

“The annoying thing is, I stuck to the exercise schedule we were given, and took all the biogenics. It doesn’t make the slightest difference. Damn, I hate freefall.”

“The President asked me to convey her personal thanks to you and your crew. Discovering the opening to Hell’s Gateway is the vital element which could turn this whole campaign around.”

“Just doing our job,” Oscar mumbled.

Mac came up behind his old friend. “Modesty is also a by-product of freefall exposure. Don’t worry, he’ll be cured by the time we reach the medal-giving ceremony. Do you think the Vice President will award Oscar personally?” he asked with a straight face.

Patricia laughed. “Now I think about it, our good Vice President Bicklu wasn’t his usual joyful self in cabinet when your name was mentioned.”

Oscar managed to smile at that.

Wilson called everyone to order. Dimitri Leopoldovich, who had been talking quietly to Rafael, took a seat next to Anna, while Mac sat on the other side of Daniel. Technically this was the Navy Strategic Review Council, but Wilson thought of it as simply a meeting between his best advisors and the Executive, as represented by Patricia and Daniel. Its job was to come up with policy to forward to the War Cabinet.

“We’ll open with the obvious,” Wilson said. “The location of Hell’s Gateway.” A hologram portal on his desk projected a simple star map. The star system where Oscar had detected the giant wormhole was about three hundred light-years beyond Elan.

“You’ve all seen the sensor log,” Oscar said. “There is no mistake; it’s them.”

“Low possibility,” Dimitri said, “but we have to consider if this is a decoy.”

“An enormously expensive one,” Mac said. “We know the Primes don’t have economics the way we do, but in terms of resources it would be a considerable investment in machinery to duplicate Hell’s Gateway. And for what purpose? At best it would gain them a couple of months’ respite.”

“Or they’ve built a second giant wormhole,” Dimitri said cheerfully. “More than one? We know they are quadralactric; it would be prudent to assume the worst.”

“You always do,” Patricia said in a low voice.

Dimitri’s pale face lifted in a regretful smile. “My job.”

“Are you suggesting we postpone the attack?” Rafael asked.

“No, sir. What I, and the Strategic Studies Institute, are recommending is that the scout flights should continue. In fact, we ought to take another flyby of Dyson Alpha. That would tell us for sure if there are any more giant wormholes operating there.”

“Risky,” Wilson said.

“The same risk as attacking Hell’s Gateway,” Dimitri countered. “Whatever defenses the Primes have developed, you can be sure they won’t be restricted to their home system. Hell’s Gateway is vital to them. It will be defended with the best they’ve got.”

“We’ll certainly fly reconnaissance missions afterward,” Wilson said. “We need as much intelligence about their intent as we can gather.”

“Intent is their one continuing unknown,” Dimitri said. “As Captain Gilbert said, their economic model doesn’t follow any we understand. However you look at it, invading the Commonwealth is simply not cost-effective. Our conclusion is that they are mounting some kind of religious crusade against us.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Daniel said.

“Excuse me, sir, but it is not. Obviously we don’t even know if they have gods or religion, but the fundamental principle stands. They are not doing this out of logic, therefore a degree of fanaticism is involved. Crusades are the human equivalent, whether they have religion or ideology as their starting point. We have had a great many during our history.”

“Is this relevant to considering our assault strategy on Hell’s Gateway?” Patricia asked.