From Griffin’s high bridge, Clemantine watched victory take shape in the form of a hundred-meter rift blown open on Dragon’s hull. A terrible rupture, though only a fraction of the length of the massive ship.
Proof at last: The Pyrrhic Defense was underway!
A pulse of effluent geysered out of the rift, and then another, and another, each pulse emerging hot in infrared, but quickly cooling in a rapidly dispersing cloud that reflected the light of the hull cells—cells that flashed their rage and a stark order to Griffin to:
To Clemantine’s surprise, Griffin’s cells respected this hold-fire order. Forgoing internal debate, they went quiet: waiting, watching, wanting to understand the mechanism of what they perceived as Dragon’s approaching victory.
After several seconds, the terrible rift ceased to pulse, though effluent still streamed from it, adding to the density of the cloud so that the light of the hull cells was reflected only on its surface. From Clemantine’s perspective, it took on the shape of a sickle moon.
She readied the philosopher cells, visualizing for them a parasite within Dragon that would need to be obliterated when it emerged. The cells pondered this. They drew parallels with their experience of releasing the proto-ships, and they prepared to shunt power to the gun.
On Dragon’s high bridge, Clemantine undertook a similar preparation. She engaged the philosopher cells, interpreting for them the raging conflict within the body of the ship, visualizing the presence of a parasite and the explosives being used to sever its anchoring tendrils and to force open a rift that would let it be expelled.
A brutal cognitive debate ensued across the field as the cells considered the merits of this explanation. Skeins of opinion vied to declare its probability or improbability, simulations ran that measured its potential for success. Throughout it, Clemantine used her many voices to force and reinforce a consensus that accepted the internal violence as a new, innovative, and powerful Chenzeme strategy that would restore the ship’s integrity.
From this point, the field of philosopher cells introduced an additional concept, reaching a swift consensus before Clemantine understood what they intended. It became clear to her only when the next submind brought her an external view of the ship, captured by the outrider Artemis.
Dragon’s hull was contorting, bending into an immense arc beneath the site of the rift, an action that tore the rift wider.
As if timed to that movement, a final, massive round of explosives went off deep within the ship’s tissue.
Griffin’s telescopes provided a detailed image of an astonishing sight. Dragon’s immense hull was flexing, bending in a shallow arc that tore the rift wide open. Tissue churned out: chunks and sheets and frozen clouds of matter.
Clemantine watched from the library, she watched from the bridge, her two aspects synchronized by a continuous stream of subminds. Alarm hit them both as she realized Dragon was rolling, turning slowly on its long axis as if to move the rift clear of the debris—and as it did, the rift disappeared from her line of sight.
– reacquire target area! –
The philosopher cells simultaneously called for the same action:
Steerage jets fired, but Griffin was massive. Momentum built slowly. The ship had hardly begun to move when dark channels ripped open on Dragon’s hull, radiating outward from the hidden rift, each one releasing new clouds of debris.
Then, over the horizon of Dragon’s hull, Clemantine glimpsed the tapered cylinder of the entity’s containment capsule, its white ceramic surface reflecting the hull cells’ gleam. Writhing white snakes trailed from it, ripped out of the freshly opened channels. These were the tendrils that had infiltrated the interior of the ship, their frantic whipping motion suggesting bio-mechanical spasms.
– KILL IT –
The surface of the capsule went black—a matte black that made it disappear in the visible range, although it still blazed with heat in the infrared.
The gun deployed, the lens aligned—and then the capsule slipped out of sight behind Dragon, pushed by the white fire of steerage jets that it should not have possessed.
In the library, Clemantine exploded in frustration: “Corruption take us!”
On the high bridge she coolly instructed the cells:
– reacquire target –
The tendrils ripped free of Dragon, tearing deep channels in the hull, destroying long swaths of philosopher cells and isolating blocks of them. Clemantine lost many of her links to the cell field. She used the surviving connections to issue a new directive: – kill it –
The remaining cells united in consensus:
She did not try to instruct them on the means. They knew better than she did.
Under the direction of the philosopher cells, Dragon’s hull began to straighten, while it rolled and rotated through three dimensions, striving to bring the containment capsule within range of its gun. The lens swiveled, seeking its target, but it was capable of only a narrow range of motion.
Clemantine watched it close in, anticipating the surge of power… until a new sensation drew her attention. Six lateral lines composed Dragon’s gravitational sensor. They were evenly spaced around the hull and ran from bow to stern. At least one line had survived the expulsion of the capsule, because it alerted her to the presence of a newly activated propulsion reef, one so close she saw the disturbance it produced moving like a wave through the debris field.
In the library, Naresh identified the cause: “Lezuri must have equipped his capsule with a reef! He’s converted it into a starship!”
A tiny ship, just forty meters long.
The little ship paralleled Dragon, accelerating so swiftly it would pass beyond the bow in seconds, putting itself in front of the gun.
No. That was too good to be true. Clemantine could not believe Lezuri would make such a blatant mistake. Something, some factor still unknown to her, would allow the little ship a chance to escape.
The philosopher cells did not share her doubt. Their consensus was absolute:
It swept past the bow. The lens locked on to its target. Then…
Nothing.
No surge of power from the reef. No destructive rush of energy.
Confusion and fury erupted among the cells as the little ship gained velocity, racing away.
Clemantine introduced a new argument to the surviving cells:
– pursue it –
Consensus was immediate, but again, the reef did not respond.
Why not? It might be weakened, but it was not destroyed. The gravitational sensor registered its latent influence like a subtle vibration in her mind… but that was all. She had no awareness of the reef’s condition, no feedback from it at all. That implied that every connection between the reef and the cell field had been torn loose—or maybe destroyed on purpose by the entity.
A submind took this conclusion to the library. From there, she accessed the radio. She had to contact Griffin, tell her other self to go in pursuit.
But the radio did not respond.
Kona saw what she was trying to do and shook his head. “It’s out.”
As Dragon writhed, Griffin shifted position, seeking a clear shot, but Clemantine could not find the containment capsule. Somehow, it kept itself shielded behind Dragon’s mass.
A new factor entered her awareness: The gravitational sensor had detected a slight perturbation, separate from those generated by the coursers. The cells sought to discern its source, their attention focused in the direction of Dragon.
When she shared this news with her Apparatchiks in the library, the Engineer said, “It’s the containment capsule. It has to be.”
A dark laugh from the Pilot. “Even if it has a reef, so what? It can’t outrun two coursers. It can’t escape our guns.”
The source of the perturbations was already receding.
On the high bridge, Clemantine proposed an action:
– pursue it –
The cells complied, triggering a surge of activity in the reef. Griffin leaped forward. But Clemantine still could not locate the little ship.
Surely it had moved beyond Dragon’s bow by now? That would make it an easy target, yet Dragon did not shoot.
“Dragon is damaged,” the Engineer concluded, his somber gaze on Clemantine. “It’s up to you.”
She could not shoot what she could not see. Griffin’s gravitational sensor let her track the newly activated reef, but that gave her only an estimate of Lezuri’s position—enough to know he was moving out fast and hard.
Resolving to match that pace, she imposed her will on the cell field:
– pursue it. faster –
In the library, the Pilot objected. “The risk of collision—!”
“I understand it, but our target is small and dark and cooling fast. I don’t want to risk losing it in the void.”
“Radar,” the Engineer said.
“Try it,” Clemantine agreed. “But I think Lezuri will anticipate that and shape-shift his hull to a fully stealthed mode.”
She tried to contact Dragon again by radio, but got no answer.
As she neared the larger courser, its cells—what was left of them—flashed a message of triumphant identity:
Within that declaration, a sense of gloating victory over an embedded enemy successfully ejected, and a firm assertion that it retained the strength to self-repair.
Griffin’s cell field responded with what Clemantine interpreted as a warning:
The implication: that Dragon must recover or be consumed.
She swept past the larger courser, taking a good look as she did, horrified at the extent of damage, longing to know if anyone was still alive within that torn hull.
She could not help them, not yet, but she could hunt the entity.
“Okay,” she said to the Engineer. “Dragon’s behind us. The field is clear. Have you got anything?”
“No, you were right,” he conceded. “No radar returns at all.”
“Then lock it down,” she told him. “We’re going stealth too. I’m taking the hull cells dark. We’re going to track his reef and I don’t want him to see us coming.”