The City Who Fought by Anne McCaffrey, S. M. Stirling
Authors: Anne McCaffrey, S. M. Stirling
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Social Science, Sociology, Space warfare, Urban, Science fiction; American, Space ships
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current task in time.
"Who can tell in that jumble of struts and boxes and crap! Besides, that thing itself is a weapon." Simeon had just one card to play and at exactly the right moment for maximum effect. "You're not even suited up, partner. At least take shelter in my shaft core, Channa."
She shook her head, "Not till I'm through evacuating the alien quadrant. 'Sides, those Letheans scare easily enough as it is without me appearing in full gear."
She had managed at last to get through to the leader of the Lethe contingent. A people so formal that emergencies required a ceremony, mercifully brief, for deferring the usual endless courtesies in favor of survival. Had Channa not performed the ceremony and explained the situation to them, they would have died rather than commit such a breach of manners as assuming that something was actually wrong. She broke the connection at last and exclaimed, "Joat!"
"She has a suit," Simeon said, "first thing I gave her. She's probably in it right now. Why aren't you?"
She dashed for the cabinet holding her space suit and began to struggle into it.
"Come to me, Channa," he said, in a wildly facetious tone, "come, touch the hard, male core of my innermost being."
"Ee-yuck, is that the sort of romance you've been studying? Try another mode."
"When I've world enough and time, lovely one, but have a look at what I've managed to arrange as stop signs."
Seemingly from out of nowhere, three communications satellites came diving towards the incoming ship, two striking it head on and one slightly astern. Whole sections of the scaffolding and outer skin of the derelict sublimed in white flashes that expanded into circles with zero-g perfection. The alien ship was not slowed—there was too much kinetic energy in that mass—but its vector altered slightly.
"Comsats aren't supposed to be able to move like that!" Channa exclaimed tightly. Simeon's sensors could hear the pounding of her heart, analyze the ketones her sweat-damp skin was emitting. Fear under hard control. The lady has guts, he thought.
"A little something I cooked up on my own," he said smugly.
"Cooked in the wrong sort of pot, you crazy loon. Without those satellites, we'll be out of communication with half the universe for weeks."
"Channa, if I hadn't done that we'd be out of communication with the all of the universe permanently.
Besides, my satellite tactic worked!"
Channa looked up at the main monitor and saw that the projected vector had skewed slightly. "Not enough," she muttered. "Please don't use any more of our comm satellites like billiard balls, Simeon. If we do survive this, they'll be needed more than ever."
"Oh-oh," Simeon muttered.
"Oh-oh?" she repeated anxiously.
It means, I screwed the pooch, Channa, Simeon thought. Aloud he went on. " SS Conrad , dump your carrier modules and get out of that sector. You are now directly in the path of the incoming ship."
"No-can-do SSS-900-C. I've got a full load here. The company'll have my ass if I desert it."
"The company'll have to hold a seance to get it, then, 'cause if you stay put, you're about to become immortal. Jump it!"
"Now!" Channa shouted. "It's less than two k-thousand kilometers from you. Now, dammit!"
"No shit!" the pilot shouted and disconnected the "cab," the crew quarters and control section of the ship, from the much larger freight storage sections.
They watched the tiny cab move with agonizing slowness across the seemingly endless bow of the strange ship.
"Down on station horizon," Simeon instructed, "ninety-degrees, straight down."
"Down? You want me to stop? With that bastard coming right for me! Are you crazy?"
"It's your only chance, buddy. She's shallow on the bottom but, by Ghu, is she wide! Show me what kind of pilot you are! Not what kind of smear you'll make."
Obediently, the little ship flared energy, applying thrust at right-angles to its previous vector. Its path shifted, slowly at first and then with growing speed like a
"Who can tell in that jumble of struts and boxes and crap! Besides, that thing itself is a weapon." Simeon had just one card to play and at exactly the right moment for maximum effect. "You're not even suited up, partner. At least take shelter in my shaft core, Channa."
She shook her head, "Not till I'm through evacuating the alien quadrant. 'Sides, those Letheans scare easily enough as it is without me appearing in full gear."
She had managed at last to get through to the leader of the Lethe contingent. A people so formal that emergencies required a ceremony, mercifully brief, for deferring the usual endless courtesies in favor of survival. Had Channa not performed the ceremony and explained the situation to them, they would have died rather than commit such a breach of manners as assuming that something was actually wrong. She broke the connection at last and exclaimed, "Joat!"
"She has a suit," Simeon said, "first thing I gave her. She's probably in it right now. Why aren't you?"
She dashed for the cabinet holding her space suit and began to struggle into it.
"Come to me, Channa," he said, in a wildly facetious tone, "come, touch the hard, male core of my innermost being."
"Ee-yuck, is that the sort of romance you've been studying? Try another mode."
"When I've world enough and time, lovely one, but have a look at what I've managed to arrange as stop signs."
Seemingly from out of nowhere, three communications satellites came diving towards the incoming ship, two striking it head on and one slightly astern. Whole sections of the scaffolding and outer skin of the derelict sublimed in white flashes that expanded into circles with zero-g perfection. The alien ship was not slowed—there was too much kinetic energy in that mass—but its vector altered slightly.
"Comsats aren't supposed to be able to move like that!" Channa exclaimed tightly. Simeon's sensors could hear the pounding of her heart, analyze the ketones her sweat-damp skin was emitting. Fear under hard control. The lady has guts, he thought.
"A little something I cooked up on my own," he said smugly.
"Cooked in the wrong sort of pot, you crazy loon. Without those satellites, we'll be out of communication with half the universe for weeks."
"Channa, if I hadn't done that we'd be out of communication with the all of the universe permanently.
Besides, my satellite tactic worked!"
Channa looked up at the main monitor and saw that the projected vector had skewed slightly. "Not enough," she muttered. "Please don't use any more of our comm satellites like billiard balls, Simeon. If we do survive this, they'll be needed more than ever."
"Oh-oh," Simeon muttered.
"Oh-oh?" she repeated anxiously.
It means, I screwed the pooch, Channa, Simeon thought. Aloud he went on. " SS Conrad , dump your carrier modules and get out of that sector. You are now directly in the path of the incoming ship."
"No-can-do SSS-900-C. I've got a full load here. The company'll have my ass if I desert it."
"The company'll have to hold a seance to get it, then, 'cause if you stay put, you're about to become immortal. Jump it!"
"Now!" Channa shouted. "It's less than two k-thousand kilometers from you. Now, dammit!"
"No shit!" the pilot shouted and disconnected the "cab," the crew quarters and control section of the ship, from the much larger freight storage sections.
They watched the tiny cab move with agonizing slowness across the seemingly endless bow of the strange ship.
"Down on station horizon," Simeon instructed, "ninety-degrees, straight down."
"Down? You want me to stop? With that bastard coming right for me! Are you crazy?"
"It's your only chance, buddy. She's shallow on the bottom but, by Ghu, is she wide! Show me what kind of pilot you are! Not what kind of smear you'll make."
Obediently, the little ship flared energy, applying thrust at right-angles to its previous vector. Its path shifted, slowly at first and then with growing speed like a
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