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machine that has been programmed to terminate all the organic life it encounters."
"So what's it got against us?"
"That's a dumb question," someone else pointed out. "Maybe you're not organic intelligence, Boz."
The first questioner flushed pink.
"Thank you," said Dr. Epsleigh. "We've been running an historical search for information in the
computers. Objects like that machine orbiting Kirsi were known when we sought refuge in this
planetary system four centuries ago. They were just part of the oppressive civilization our
ancestors fled. Our people wanted to be left alone to their own devices. It was assumed that the
vastness of the Galaxy would protect them from discovery by either the machines or the rest of
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humanity." Dr. Epsleigh paused. "Obviously the machines were better trackers or perhaps this is
just a chance encounter. We don't know."
"Is there room for negotiation?" That was Tanzin.
Dr Epsleigh's humorless smile appeared again. "Apparently not. In the past the machines negotiated
only when it was part of a larger strategy against their human targets. The attack on Kirsi was
without warning. The machine has not attempted to communicate with any human in the system. Nor
has it responded to our overtures. It is merely pounding away at Kirsi with single-minded
ferocity. We think it picked that world simply because Kirsi was closer to its entrance point into
this system." Dr. Epsleigh's jaw visibly tightened; the tension was reflected in her voice. "It's
not merely trying to defeat our neighbors. The machine is annihilating them. "We're witness to a
massacre."
"And we're next?" said Morgan.
"All of Almira," said Dr. Epsleigh. "That's what we anticipate, yes."
"So what's the plan?" Amaranth's voice boomed out.
Holt glanced aside at Morgan, her hair almost glowing in the hall's artificial glare. His job had
been to send back fee dividends to North Terrea, the village that had invested in him and his
ship. Until only a short time ago, his life had centered around adventure, peril, and profit. Now
a new factor had intervened. It seemed there suddenly was another facet of life to consider,
Morgan. Maybe it was only a crush he'd never find out if it would work or not unless he explored
the possibilities. But instead they'd both fly out with the rest to Kirsi. The machine would kill
him. Or her.
Or the both of them. It was depressing.
Dr. Epsleigh interrupted his reverie. "We don't know what the defensive capabilities of the
machine are. The few ships that investigated from Kirsi didn't even get close enough to test its
screens. You'll be more careful. We think you've got considerably more speed and mobility than the
machine. The strategy will be to slip a few fighters through the machine's protective screens
while the other ships are skirmishing. We're jury-rigging some heavier weapons than standard
issue."
"Um," said a pilot off to the left. "What you're saying is, you hope some of us can find points of
vulnerability on that critter?"
"We're continuing to gather intelligence about the machine," said Dr. Epsleigh. "If a miracle
answer comes up, believe me, you'll be the first to know."
"It's borking suicide." Amaranth's voice carried throughout the hall.
"Probably." Dr. Epsleigh's smile heated from grim to wry. "But it's the only borking chance we've
got."
"Why even bother with quintuple bonuses," someone muttered. "No one'll be around to spend 'em
other than the machine."
"How can that boojum-thing just want to wipe us all out?" came an overly loud musing from the back
of the room.
"Aren't you forgetting us and the 'Reen?" Holt said angrily, also loud. His neighbors stared at
him.
"We didn't kill 'em all," said Bogdan mildly.
"Might as well have. For four hundred years, we took their land whenever it suited us. They died
when they got in our way."
"Not in my way," protested Bogdan. "I've never done anything to those stinking badgers."
"Nor for them," said Holt.
"Shut up," said Tanzin. "Squabble later. When the machine bombards Almira, I'm sure it won't
distinguish between human and 'Reen." She raised her voice back in the direction of Dr. Epsleigh.
"So what happens next?"
"We're outfitting the fighters. It will take some hours. You'll be leaving in successive waves.
The ready rooms are prepared. I suggest you all get whatever sleep or food or other relaxation you
can manage. I'll post specific departure rosters when I can. Questions?"
There were questions, but nothing startling. Holt drew his courage together and turned toward
Morgan. "Buy you a caf?" She nodded.
"Buy as all a caf," said Taazin, "but get a head start now. We'll meet you later."
Unwelcome satellite, the machine continued to circle Kirsi.
Dust.
Steam.
Death.
Oblivion.
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