Resolution (105 page)

Tom lost concentration, slipped back to his physical surroundings and the feel of hard stone pressed against his back, the constricting cables that supported him but cut off blood flow.

Enemy fighters were drawing close.

A wave of blackness washed over Tom -
Anomaly -
but then he raised his head and squinted at the sky, and knew it was only his own weakness, the incipient coma trying to take hold of him.

Then a squadron of dart-shaped flyers swooped in from the left, and each one carried the sigil of the Strontium Dragons -
Zhao-ji, my old friend -
and the air rippled as Axolon brought his own defences to bear and graser fire streamed in all directions and an explosion blew out a hole from the terraformer, below Tom, and the vibration was a giant fist punching through his back.

Black flames, somewhere overhead.

Tom’s head lolled
- fight it -
and he pushed it back up, forced his eyes to open.

Dark Fire.

It was manifesting itself on the stone sphere’s surface above Tom, the air darkening and wavering and clearing once more, and the beings who crouched there now were different: black and bronze but human-sized and wingless, their metallic talons digging into stone while they hung and swivelled their horned, wedge-shaped heads and focused on Tom.

‘So ... kill me.’ Saliva gathered, dry and sticky, at the edge of Tom’s mouth. He tried to spit. ‘You’re too ... late.’

Tom closed his eyes.

And Saw:

What he had never hoped to see: a Pilot’s ship in action. For as the Enemy missiles rise through the atmosphere, Janis deVries’s great silver-gold ship shimmers from existence.

Then reappears far below the spinpoint field, light stabbing out in all directions and the missiles vaporizing with no true explosion, transformed into dust.

And then, high in orbit above the world, a new apparition.

Ten thousand Pilots’ ships spring into existence: a myriad polished bronze and silver vessels spreading their delta wings above Nulapeiron.

An entire fleet of Pilots.

Something sliced through the skin of Tom’s shoulder. His mouth opened but he could not breathe as the deadly being reversed the swing, aiming for his eye—

NO.

—and arched its back, screaming as a white beam pierced its torso, and then it was toppling from the sphere over the long drop to ground.

Adam Gervicort’s commandos were rappelling down from the terraformer’s apex, firing heavy grasers as they came.

Tom? Are you—?

Still here.

But the dark beings were returning fire of their own, spewing graser beams from encrusted growths on their bodies, and all was crackling fire and confusion above Tom.

They know who you are. You’re a target now.

Good. That’s what we want.

While farther out, Enemy fighters were trying to reach Axolon Array, but Zhao-ji’s flyers were laying down heavy fire and Axolon’s own defences were deflecting the main attack: a holding action he could not sustain.

We don’t need to win.

It
was a question of distracting the Enemy while the real solution materialized far above the world, in space.

Just survive for a few minutes longer.

And Tom Saw:

The Pilot ships spread out now, tossing out sparkling motes to reinforce the number of shield devices, replicas of Avernon’s design. They hover above the spinpoint field where millions of tiny spots of light shine: the ongoing sign of something strange and powerful surrounding the world.

Then those ten thousand ships use their fine-honed control systems, designed to navigate in a fractal universe where a microscopic divergence from an intended position can result in a near-infinite difference in result, to manipulate the orbiting devices into the configuration they were designed for.

‘Now…’

A soft white glow suffuses the spinpoint field.

Surrounds Nulapeiron with light.

Pain jerked Tom back into place as two more beings crawled down the convex stone towards him. One had spat graser fire close to Tom’s face, searing skin, but now their mouths opened in what could only be blood lust as they came for him with talons extended.

Then one of the commandos was in their midst—

Adam!

—and it was Tom’s former servitor who now fought like a berserker, hanging from a smartrope and firing his graser at close range so that one dark being’s guts exploded through its lower back and it was done for. But a talon raked as it fell away into the void, and Adam’s graser went spinning with it.

The other being turned its attention to Tom.

Eemur? Tell Elva that I
—

Then a shape came hurtling downwards as a freed rope whipped back.

Fate, no!

And Adam’s hands hooked under the Enemy creature’s mandible and momentum dragged its talons free from the stone surface and then they were hanging in the air. For a moment Adam’s gaze met Tom’s.

Then he and the struggling being were falling.

Down into the void.

No, Adam.

Dwindling specks.

No...

Gone.

Tom hung his head.

It’s only Axolon.

Ignore him.

The voice boomed, vibrated, shook him into momentary wakefulness.

The sky was shining.

A glow ...

Shining a pure, beautiful white.

It gave Tom the strength to See.

Above the world, the encompassing field blazes, surrounding Nulapeiron with light, while ten thousand mu-space vessels move farther into space and hang there, regarding the marvel they have wrought.

May have wrought. Things are not certain yet.