In the space of two hours, I have received two of the most welcome communications of my entire career as a Unit of the Line: My commander has made known her intention to fight for my repair and continued service under her command and the attempt to exterminate the Tersae has failed. I am pleased that I have contributed to their preservation, for it is my profound belief the Tersae will be critical to long-term human interests. Very few Bolos of any vintage can claim such an accomplishment.
My commander is closeted with Rustenberg's survivors, drawing up lists of items to be freighted in by military courier, when I receive a priority signal from General McIntyre.
"Shall I relay this call to Captain DiMario's comm link, General?"
"No, ask her to come up to your command compartment, please."
"Understood, General. Advising Captain DiMario now."
I hail my commander and relay the message, surmising that General McIntyre intends to impart information of a sensitive nature, although not classified, since the call has not come through on security scramble. Alessandra appears at a run and climbs up hastily.
"DiMario here."
"Colonel Weyman, are you there?"
"Here, sir."
"Very good. Captain, Colonel, a shuttle from the Darknight has investigated that massive explosion on lunar body thirteen. The enemy has destroyed a sizeable base of operations, leaving a glowing hole big enough to house several hundred full-time personnel and their equipment for a long-term stay. The good news is, we've spooked them into running. The bad news is, there's so much debris flying loose in this star system, I doubt we'll spot their ship heading out for hyper-L jump, presuming they didn't all simply suicide.
"My hunch is, they've evacuated with every scrap of information they could transport out. Since we can't know for sure what the enemy intends, I'm creating a Thule Defense Force for long-term patrol of this planet. The force will consist of four Bolos, one for each continent, and the destroyer CSS Vengeance. Sector has cleared this plan for immediate implementation. Colonel Weyman, I want you to serve as commander of the Defense Force. Captain Blaine of the Vengeance will be assigned as Naval support under your direct command. Captain DiMario, because of the pivotal role you and your Bolo played in this affair, I'm posting you and Unit SPQ/R-561 to long-term duty as part of the Defense Force. And based on your reports, Captain, the surviving Tersae will need serious military protection from the colonists."
"Thank you, sir," Alessandra says. "Senator and I are grateful for the chance to serve." It pleases me immeasurably to hear my commander say this, for there is no greater pleasure a Bolo can know, but to serve. Unless, perhaps, it is to earn the friendship of a worthy commander in the course of that service.
"Yes, and that brings up another point. On your recommendation, Captain DiMario, and yours, Colonel Weyman—and in consideration of outstanding performance under difficult circumstances—I've ordered a full refit for Unit SPQ/R-561, to be carried out by Corps-level psychotronic engineers. They'll be here as soon as a team can ship out from Sector Command. Colonel Weyman, I'll let you hand-pick the rest of your command. It's a big planet, Colonel, and there's a lot of unknown space around it. Keep this world safe, Colonel, and keep that saganium flowing."
"Yes, sir. Given the hostility of the surviving colonists, I plan to establish a Tersae reserve. One that remains strictly off-limits to any human personnel except the Thule Research Expedition and authorized Concordiat and military officials. At least until hostilities have cooled down one hell of a lot more than they are now. I'll arrange a meeting of the research team and the Defense Force officers within twenty-four hours, to establish the restricted zone. I'll need technicians and engineers to gather and analyze every scrap of technology the Ones Above left behind."
"Whatever you need, Colonel, you've got it. These damned things have scared me spitless—and that doesn't happen easily, Colonel, not easily at all."
"I'm not going to sleep real well at night myself, General. I'll be going over this planet with an extremely fine-toothed comb."
"That's well in hand then. If you would, Colonel, please give Chilaili a message for me."
There is a brief pause, then the Defense Force commander says, "General, I can patch Chilaili into our conversation at any time. She's still wearing the receiver we used to penetrate Icewing Clan's nest site."
"You're quite right, Colonel. That would be more appropriate. Put her on, please."
A short delay ensues, lasting six point zero two seconds, then the voice of humanity's newest ally whispers across the vast distances separating us. "I am Chilaili," she says, "master katori of Icewing Clan. My friend John Weyman has told me you are the viho, the war leader, for the human clans."
"That's right, Chilaili. I'm called General McIntyre. When I leave, Lieutenant Colonel John Weyman will become the war leader for the human clans of this world."
"Then I must thank you, viho General McIntyre, and Yiska, who is viho to Icewing Clan, asks that I thank you for him as well. Icewing Clan owes humans a debt beyond our ability to pay."
General McIntyre's voice is surprisingly gentle. "Help us understand the creatures who slaughtered your people and ordered the slaughter of mine, and all debts will be paid in full."
"Yes, we will give that help, gladly. And there is one more thing I must say to you, viho General McIntyre."
"Yes, Chilaili?"
"When you find them, in their hidden homes amongst the stars . . . you must kill them. After what humans have done here, they will not rest until they have destroyed you. All of you, on every world you call your own."
A deathly stillness falls in the wake of Chilaili's words.
They have the ominous ring of prophecy.