“Yaargraukh.” Caine nodded at the Hkh’Rkh’s ceremonial sword, then at the console. “Smash. Now.”
The Hkh’Rkh didn’t stop to signal understanding: he drew the blade and drove it half a foot into the panel, splitting the metal and spraying shattered buttons and broken switches, which were promptly sucked out into space.
Then the console’s remaining lights went red—and with a shrill pneumatic scream, the automatic safety override slammed the hatch shut.
Chapter Fifty
MENTOR
Downing knew that standing stiffly with arms folded was not a receptive posture, but didn’t much care as he traded stares with Alnduul. He glanced quickly at Riordan, who was still slumped against the far wall, dark maroon stains around his nose, his eyes fletched with the blood-red lightning streaks of burst capillaries. Downing determined that the time for well-mannered, soft-spoken diplomacy was long past. “Alnduul, we require an update: do you have any more news on the event?”
Alnduul’s hands were folded and voice was tight. “The other delegations deny involvement of any kind. Except the Arat Kur: they still refuse to reply to any summons whatsoever. On the other hand, the Hkh’Rkh delegation has now accused your delegation of attempting to assassinate Yaargraukh.”
Opal looked up sharply. “They what?”
Visser turned a withering stare upon Alnduul. “This is not only preposterous, but a transparent attempt to manufacture an incident in order to—”
Downing heard where Visser was going, derailed her by interrupting. “Alnduul, have your technicians determined why our coupler’s doors failed?”
“No, but the chip that monitors the coupler’s functions registered a brief pulse of power in the circuit that triggers the explosive bolts. This was what caused them to discharge.”
“So there was an overload from some other system?”
Thandla answered before Alnduul could. “Mr. Downing, I do not think you understand the significance of what Alnduul has just told us. There is no way—there is no physical pathway—for a power surge to trigger the bolts. The bolts are physically isolated from all other systems until their arming switch is thrown. Furthermore, they are insulated from any other charge-bearing systems in order to prevent exactly this kind of failure.”
Alnduul nodded. “My technicians confirm that the bridging switch to the explosive bolts has not been moved since it was last checked by your technicians on Earth.”
“So an electric current just appeared in the circuits beyond the gap of the still-open bridging switch?”
“That is correct. And allow me to anticipate your next question: our station sensors would have detected any attempt to induce current in the line by projecting an electromagnetic or microwave flux at it. No such energy pulse was recorded.”
Downing nodded, felt cold sweat on his palms. There wasn’t any power surge in Alexandria either, but it was the same species of mysterious failure there, too. And probably the same with Nolan’s coronary controller . . .
Alnduul was continuing. “Since we cannot identify a system failure of any kind, I have asked the Third Arbiter to provisionally treat this event as an attempted assassination.”
“Thank you. Does this mean that the Third Arbiter has approved my request that our delegation should now be returned as two separate groups?” Eyes turned toward Downing; he ignored them.
“Yes, although there was considerable discussion about the political wisdom of acceding to that request. However, your colloquial axiom that one should never put all their eggs in one basket decided the matter. However, I must ask that the party returning to Earth in your own module makes the journey in cryosleep.”
“Of course, Alnduul. When will we be departing?”
“Twenty minutes: no more.”
Stunned stares went back and forth between the other members of the delegation.
“We shall be ready,” Downing promised.
“And we shall remain vigilant. I shall contact you soon again.” Alnduul’s image faded.
“Twenty minutes?” Hwang mused. “That’s not a lot of time.”
“That’s the idea,” replied Downing. “We don’t want to give the assassins enough time to have another go at us.”
Elena let out a long sigh. “A few hours ago, I wondered how long it would be before the Accord came apart.”
Trevor looked over at her. “And now?”
“Now I wonder how long it will be before we’re at war.”
Visser shook her head. “Nein, Elena: we already are.” She sent a sideways glance at Riordan. “What happened to Caine was the first shot, I think.”