Lem walked away. It was old Father now, immovable, pigheaded, loud and blustery. And he was wrong. Lem saw that now, more clearly than ever. Initially he had worried solely about the economic risks of a drone attack. Now he worried about the real danger of it. The image of Earth disappearing into dust resurfaced in his mind, and it left him feeling sick.
He took the skimmer to the facility where Victor and Imala were working. He found them both kneeling by their ship welding a piece onto it, their faces covered in blast masks. Lem was shocked at the sight of the ship. They had completely transformed it. It looked like a piece of wreckage, down to the ship’s markings on the hull and scorch marks from laser fire. Wires and conduit and structural beams stuck out everywhere. Had he not known what it was he would have dismissed it as junk.
“How soon can you be ready with this?” he asked.
Victor and Imala faced him and raised their blast masks. “We’re moving as quickly as we can here.”
“How soon? Two hours? Two days?”
Victor and Imala stood. Victor brushed the dust and fibers off his shirt. “Dublin and Benyawe are finishing up the decoy with the thrusters. We’ve got a few more hours on our end. Then we can do a test flight.”
“Scrap the test flight,” said Lem. “There’s no time. We launch in a few hours, the instant it’s done.”
Victor and Imala exchanged glances. “All right,” said Victor. “Why the sudden panicked urgency?”
“The Formics have begun gassing cities,” said Lem. “We need to move now.”
Victor removed his blast mask and studied the ship, gauging how much work remained. “Give us two hours,” he said.
Lem nodded and left them to it. He hadn’t lied exactly. The Formics were gassing cities, and that was reason enough. But it wasn’t the real reason, not the main reason. Father had to be stopped. He couldn’t launch the drones. And the only way to prevent him from doing so was for Lem to do the job first, to remove the need for drones. He would get Victor inside, have Victor destroy the helm, and then the ship would be crippled and theirs for the taking. Father could keep his little drones with their glaser death sticks docked in that warehouse of his.
But what were the chances that Victor would actually reach the helm? And if he did reach the helm, what were the chances that he would successfully detonate the bomb? Or even reach the bloody ship to begin with? It was more likely that the Formics would blast them before they even got there. Well, that was the risk they were taking, wasn’t it?
He stepped into an empty office, set up his holopad, put his face into the field, and made the call. A moment later Simona’s face appeared, and as he expected she didn’t look pleased.
“Have you been wearing that scowl since I saw you last?” asked Lem. “That can’t be good for the lines of the face.”
“What do you want?”
“You know I’m right about the drones, Simona. Father is playing with a weapon he doesn’t understand.”
“If you’re calling me to make me pick sides, Lem, you’re wasting my time.”
“You answered the holo, and you knew it was me. That means deep inside you know I’m right.”
“It means I’m a civil human being who answers holos, even from obnoxious jackasses.”
“This bickering, Simona. It’s unhealthy.”
“What do you want, Lem?”
“Information.”
“And you think I’ll give it to you?”
“Father certainly won’t.”
“Then I won’t either.”
“When does Father plan on launching his drones?”
“Why should I tell you that?”
“I may have a way to disable the Formic ship,” said Lem.
She paused. “I’m listening.”
“But I need to know when Father plans to launch his drones. I need my people in and out before Father makes his move. He can’t attack while my people are in there.”
“How do you plan to get people inside? No ship can get close to it. It blasts anything that approaches.”
“You’re right. My tactic will probably fail, so it doesn’t hurt for you to tell me how much time I have.”
Simona said nothing.
“I can get the information elsewhere, Simona. It wouldn’t be difficult. But I’m coming to you because you’re the most reliable and accurate source of information.”
Simona remained quiet, considering.
“You heard my father. Thousands of people are dying every day. I’m ready to move now. We are set to launch. I’m ready to stop those deaths right now. But I can’t unless you give me information.”
She sighed. “Bullick says the fleet of drones won’t be ready for at least five days.”
Lem breathed out. “Thank you.”
“So are you going to tell me how you’re getting people inside?”
“I’ll give you the whole rousing narrative some other time.” He retracted his face from the field and ended the transmission.
Five days. That was more than enough time for Victor to drift to the ship, do his business, and get out. Or so they had calculated. Victor had estimated three days and thought it might be as much as four, but no more than that. Then again, anything could go wrong.