The little alien looked at its screen again. “The first fly-by bombardment and missile launch targeting the trackways will take place in three point four-one hours from now. The missiles will impact between one and five minutes after the bombardment. The second wave of ships charged with carrying out the precision bombardment of the satellite links around the house will arrive between point five and one point zero hours later. We can’t be any more accurate with the timing due to the inherent variability of warp-engine crash-stops, especially that far into the gravity wells of a star and planet. So sorry. I trust that will afford you the time to do what you need to do.”
“Hmm. That will have to suffice, then, I suppose.” Veppers made an expansive gesture. “Don’t look so horrified, Bettlescroy! Onward and upward, don’t you agree? Can’t stand still; one has to embrace change, knock old stuff down to build bigger and better new stuff. Speculate to accumulate. All that sort of thing. I’m sure you have your own appropriate, culturally relevant clichés.”
The Legislator-Admiral shook its small, perfectly formed head.
“What a remarkable person you are, Veppers.”
“I know. I amaze myself sometimes.” He turned round as he heard the door behind him open. “Ah, Jasken; well done. Would you mind parcelling that stuff up to go, as a picnic? We’re off on our travels again.”
Twenty-seven
x
oLOU (Eccentric)
Child, greetings. I enclose a recording of certain recent proceedings involving a mind-state representation of one Space Marshal Vatueil and a Specialist Agencies Prompt Response Committee. Please take note and act accordingly.
∞
xGSV
oPS
Take a look at this. SAPRC local franchise stuff; seems Space Marshal V. our son of a bitch.
∞
xPS
oLOU (Eccentric)
There was me about to call you Unknown Craft and wave a message beam vaguely in your direction, but now a degree of signal/identity regularity appears to be infecting the locality and I’ve been informed you are, after all, some sort of proper Culture ship. Hi. Me? Oh, I’m mostly kicking the living-dead shit out of the biggest sorta-smatter outbreak you ever did see in all the whole wide wonderful galaxy. What exactly are you up to? Do call; we’re close enough – let’s talk.
~Hello. I made a possibly foolish promise to a human on a mission and must discharge that before I am able to help you with the smatter outbreak, if that is what you would wish me to do and are hinting at. I appreciate you are being kept busy and might be able to use some assistance. I am seeing a remarkable amount of weapon blink from where I am.
~Which would appear to be on a very tight loop centred round sunny Vebezua, indulging in a translight comet impression. Well, there you are. I’m sure you have your reasons. But thank you. I am, as you say, keeping busy.
~I would hope to join you within a few hours.∼Heck, no rush. Aren’t you the ship who took the image of Ms. Y’breq, few years ago?
~I am. Hence a feeling of responsibility for what has transpired.
~Decent of you. I have a presently soloing element carrying
the revented Ms. Y towards Sichult even as we chat. You weren’t thinking of trying to reunite her and the image at all, were you?