"They aren't using Hellspinners, Lupo."

"They're not stupid. Hellspinners cause weak spots coming out." The course the Guardship had to run was a test to destruction, a tube of ships and gun platforms. The farther it advanced into the tube, the more fire it would take.

Tregesser said, "Those fighters are like bugs on the inside of a light globe." Then, "Hey! They're launching."

It was called a bubble-through launch though neither Provik nor Tregesser had heard of the tactic. It was used only by Guardships with little or no concern for living crew: I Primagenia, III Victrix, IV Trajana, XII Fulminata, others gone extremely strange. Losses in a bubble-through were heavy.

Fighters came out with their own screens maxed, osmotically. The gaps they exited never opened bigger than fighter and screen. The Guardship risked little. But fighter screens were of a lesser grade, and the ships they protected were easy targets for a moment. If they did not get through fast and start dodging, they were dead.

A lot got dead this launch.

But then the survivors were everywhere, making life miserable for the attackers, forcing them behind their own screens.

"They're as crazy as your damned suicide squadrons," Lupo said.

"It was a good move for them. It worked. Look. Magnum launch."

A cloud of fighters had begun boiling off the Guardship now. Heavier riders and gunships followed. XII Fulminata was deploying everything. Soon it looked like a wad of wire mesh.

"Magnum launch indeed," Lupo said. "You'd better send in the Po-Ticra before the heavy secondaries get maneuvering room."

There were Outsiders who would respond only to Simon Tregesser, apparently unable to understand that Provik spoke with his voice. Lupo thought that a bad way to do business. If Simon checked out, those personal alliances became void.

This battle meant more to Simon than he would admit. He did not have to capture a Guardship to profit. Destroying one should quicken a flood of Outsider support.

They wanted to shatter Canon Rim, of course. Simon, dancing on a tightwire, hoped it would not go that far. He just wanted a lot more for him.

Lupo wondered if the Outsiders would let House Tregesser gain a Guardship. Alien and stupid were not synonyms.

He issued orders, made adjustments, examined data. "Simon. The numbers say they can't win. They can't even turn around. Start your call for surrender."

"What's that? We did it? Did you say we did it?"

"I said we're going to do it. Unless something happens. These crazy Outsiders could screw it up."

"Eh? Ha-ha!" The mad laughter rolled. Then Tregesser began booming his brief ultimatum.

The Guardship did not reply.

XII Fulminata's screen began to show signs of distress. Lupo noticed, too, that the Guardship had begun to accelerate. That made no sense. Unless they had decided to rip straight through the end space.

Cold chills.

Death's glance had passed your way, they said, when that creepy cold brushed your back.

Nova fire.

"What was that, Lupo? Lupo! What's happening?"

"You know damned well what it was, Simon. Another goddamned Guardship just broke off the Web." He looked around. They had a positive ID. "This is VII Gemina and they're into a magnum launch already."

More creepy chills. This time they lingered. He had caught Death's eye.

"What are we going to do, Lupo?"

"You're going to leave me the hell alone while I figure out what." First, pull the fighters off XII Fulminata. They were not contributing much. Launch the reserve. Shift the fire of the more remote gun platforms to the new target. Have Simon throw Po-Ticra suiciders at any gap in XII Fulminata's screen. XII Fulminata could stop them only with massed Hellspinners. Most would miss and rip more holes in the Guardship's screen.

He executed as he thought, shifting from fighting for victory to fighting for survival.

The adjustments looked good. The numbers were iffy, but there was a chance....

Nova light.

"Are they sending the whole damned fleet?"

"Lupo!"

Provik tapped his wrist. "Family, we have to run for it. Get ready." He watched till the ID came up. XXVIII Fretensis.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he had been expecting a third Guardship.

— 47 —

WarAvocat's anger dwindled only because he had no time to indulge it. The moment duty failed to distract him, the rage returned.

The Deified Makarska Vis would pay.

Their conflict was the talk of the Guardship. Sympathy ran heavily in his favor. It was certain he would be reelected Dictat if he stood, and almost as certain that the Deified Makarska Vis would bow before a motion of censure from the Deified.

"Ready on all launch stations, WarAvocat."

He surveyed WarCentral. VII Gemina was ready.

He had never felt so uncertain.

What did this crop of villains have? They always had something they thought gave them an edge. He dreaded the day when they were right.

"We have broken away."

"Commence launch. Riders recheck your launch sequence."

"Heavy fire ahead. No incoming."

Verbal redundancy informed OpsCrew and ServCrew what VII Gemina and WarCrew were doing.

Tens of thousands of ears listened. Even the least member of WarCrew was awake and on station somewhere.

"Holy shit," someone said. "Look at that."

"That" was the sort of firestorm about which WarAvocats had nightmares.

The trap was obvious. And good. It was a sock into which momentum would carry the Guardship deeper and deeper while enemy fire grew more intense. XII Fulminata could not be seen. That Guardship was the focus of enough violence to fuel a small sun.

"We're starting to take fire."

WarAvocat told the WarCentral duty WatchMaster, "Someone has been getting ready for a long time. There's no way out except through the other end. We can't even turn back because XXVIII Fretensis is coming in behind us."

"Can we handle it, sir?"

"We'll find out. Maybe I should have allowed XXVIII Fretensis second honors."

Data accumulated. The picture was not good. XII Fulminata had lost half its riders. The rest were damned unless recovered by VII Gemina or XXVIII Fretensis. XII Fulminata's screen could take no more strain, yet it faced worse fire ahead.

"WarAvocat." WatchMaster pointed.

A swarm of fighters had broken away from XII Fulminata, headed for VII Gemina. Other viewscreens showed hordes of fresh fighters pouring out of remote chunks of rock. The enemy was committing reserves.

The nearest gun platforms, already under fire from VII Gemina, began shifting to the incoming target.

"They're quick," WarAvocat said. "Bet they've decided to forget capturing XII Fulminata and try for us. Comm. Anything from XII Fulminata?

"No, sir."

"That stubborn bastard." WarAvocat examined the latest. VII Gemina would have all its secondaries away before it had to hide behind its shield. If it had to.

"Sir, their screens are as good as ours," WatchMaster said.

"Damn!" So they were. XII Fulminata's secondaries had not been able to silence a single heavy weapon.

VII Gemina plowed through wreckage left by XII Fulminata. "Must have done a bubble launch. The crazy bastards."

"Don't look like they had much choice."

"Probably didn't."

Screens threw up schematics of enemy vessels amongst the wreckage. Few were not of nonhuman manufacture. Probe delivered data on species spotted in the wreckage. Few were recognized by Gemina.

They overhauled an enemy cripple of ridership size. A dozen Hellspinners whipped out. Three made contact, devoured half the vessel. WarAvocat nudged course slightly to pass a gun platform closely enough to use Hellspinners.