“Even greater power.” She’d explained about the Tsungarial Disk and the coming culmination of the confliction over the Hells.
Now, stricken with a feeling of responsibility for all this, the Me, I’m Counting had decided to complete the mission Yime and the Bodhisattva had undertaken. It would take her wherever she wanted to go in pursuit of Lededje Y’breq. The Mind of the Bodhisattva would come too, as a part of the Me, I’m Counting. Rather than waste time trying to rendezvous with another ship the two Minds had determined to salvage all they could from the wreck of the Bodhisattva and junk the rest. The boxy ship-drone from the Bodhisattva floated by Yime’s other elbow, ready to help if she wobbled in its direction.
“In the circumstances, and at the moment,” the drone said, “it is anyway preferable to be contemplating an incursion into the Sichultian Enablement within a warship rather than a humble General Contact Unit.” It came forward a little and dipped, as though peeking round Yime to the humanoid avatar. “Our friend here will have the undying gratitude of the Quietus Section for its action.”
“Don’t exalt me overmuch,” the avatar rumbled. “I am still a warship after a fashion, but an old and avowedly eccentric one. Compared to the thing Ms. Y’breq seemingly finds herself on, I am small beer indeed.”
“Ah, yes, the picket ship,” Yime said. “It must be nearly there by now.”
“Very nearly,” Himerance told her. “Hours out from Enablement space, and the Tsungarial Disk, if that’s where it’s headed.”
“Just in time for the smatter outbreak,” the ship’s drone said. “That is almost too convenient. I do hope we had nothing to do with that.”
“‘We’ being the Culture, Restoria, or SC?” Yime asked, wobbling a little as she reached the limit of the lounge area and turned. Avatar and drone both helped steady her.
“Good question,” the drone said. It seemed content to judge the question without hazarding an answer.
“And what about the Bulbitian?” she asked.
The drone said nothing. After a moment, the avatar said, “A Fast Picket, the No One Knows What The Dead Think, paid a call on the Bulbitian some eight hours ago, respectfully asking for an explanation for what happened to the Bodhisattva and your-self. The Bulbitian denied all knowledge not only of any attack on you, but also of your visit. Worryingly, it also denies that there ever was a Culture Restoria or Numina mission aboard it. In fact it claims to have been completely without any alien visitors for as long as it can remember.
“The Fast Picket begged to differ and requested leave to contact the Culture personnel it knew had been on the Bulbitian as recently as a couple of days earlier. When that was refused it asked to be allowed to send a representative aboard to check. That too was rejected. No signals had emanated from the Bulbitian since very shortly after the attack on the Bodhisattva and no signals from the Fast Picket elicited any response at all.”
They’re all going to be dead; Yime thought. I know it. I brought death to them.
“The No One Knows What The Dead Think then departed the Bulbitian’s atmospheric envelope,” Himerance continued, “but left behind a small high-stealth drone-ship which attempted to access the Bulbitian directly without permission, using smaller drones, knife and scout missiles, eDust and so on. All were destroyed. An attempt by the Fast Picket to Displace sensory apparatus directly into the Bulbitian met with no more success and resulted in an attack on the Fast Picket by the Bulbitian.
“Forewarned, and – having been a warship, the GOU Obliterating Angel, in its earlier incarnation – more martially capable than the Bodhisattva, the Fast Picket was undamaged by the Bulbitian’s attack and retired to a safe distance to keep watch on the entity and await the arrival of the Equator-class GSV Pelagian, which is five days away. A Continent class with SC links is also strongly believed to be en route, though it’s keeping its arrival time quiet.
“Other species/civs who had personnel aboard the Bulbitian also report no contact or sign of their people and, like us, suspect that the entity has killed them.”
Yime stopped, looked at Himerance, then at the skeletal assembly of components which was the Bodhisattva’s drone, and – with the vessel’s Mind – one of the few bits of the ship it had been worthwhile salvaging from the near-total wreck. “So they’re all dead?” she asked, her voice hollow. She thought of the elegantly elderly Ms. Fal Dvelner and the terribly earnest, multiply-reincarnated Mr. Nopri.
“Very likely,” the drone told her. “I’m sorry.”