There were others in the hall, farther on. He snapped an order at them, cleared
them out, not blaming them… there were others besides Konstantins who had loved
ones scattered about the station, children in school and nurseries, people in
hospital. Some ran ahead of them, refusing orders. A station security agent
shouted out another order to halt; ignored, laid a hand on his pistol.
“Let them go,” Damon snapped. “Let be.”
“Sir.” The policeman’s face relaxed from a grimace of panic. “Sir, I’m not
getting anything over com.”
“Keep that gun holstered. You learn those reflexes from the troops? Stand your
post. Calm people down. Help them where you can. There’s a scramble going on.
Could even be drill. Ease up.”
“Sir.”
They walked on, toward the emergency ramp, in the quiet hall… not running; a
Konstantin could not run, spread panic. He walked, trying to hold off panic in
himself. “No time,” Josh said under his breath. “By the time the alert gets
here, the ships are on us. If Mazian’s been caught at dock…”
“Got militia and two carriers out from station,” Damon said, and remembered all
at once who Josh was. He caught his breath, gave him a desperate look, met a
face as worried as his own. “Come on,” he said.
They reached the emergency ramp, heard shouting, loud as they opened the doors.
Runners were headed in down it from other levels. “Slow down!” Damon yelled at
those who passed him, and they did, several turns, but a few became many, and
suddenly there were more coming up, the noise increasing, more running… the
transport system jammed everywhere and all the levels pouring into the spiral
well. “Take it easy,” Damon shouted, grabbed shoulders physically and tried to
slow it, but the rush accelerated, bodies jamming in, men, women, and children,
impossible now even to get out of it. The doors were full of people trying to go
down.
“The docks!” he heard shouted. It spread like fire, with the red light of alarm
burning in the overhead, the assumption that had been seething in Pell since the
troops came—that someday it would come, that the station was under attack, that
evacuation was underway. The mass pressed down, and there was no stopping it.
ii Norway; 1105
cfx/knight/189-8989-6877 easyeasyeasy/scorpiontwelve/zerozerozero/ endit
Signy keyed back acknowledgment and turned to Graff with a wide sweep of her
hand. “Hit it!” Graff relayed, and go sounded throughout the ship. Warnings
flared, spreading to dockside. Troops outside finished stripping the umbilicals.
“We can’t take them,” Signy said when Di Janz fretted in com. It sat ill with
her to abandon men. “They’re all right.”
“Umbilicals clear,” Graff shouted across, off com. It was a go-when-ready from
Europe, which had left its troops, already moving out. Pacific was moving.
Tibet’s rider was still heading in behind the wave of the original message,
signaling with its presence what Tibet had already sent; and what was happening
on the fringes of Pell System was as old as the light-bound signal that came
reporting it, ships inbound, more than an hour ago. The lights on Norway’s main
board flicked green, a steady ripple of them, and Signy released clamp and set
Norway free, with the troops who had made it aboard still hastening for
security. Norway moved null for a moment under the gentle puffs of directionals
and undocking vents, continued the roll of her frame and cut in main thrust with
a margin that skimmed Australia’s clearance and probably set off alarms all over
Pell. They acquired hard G, the inner cylinder under combat synch, rolling to
compensate stresses: weight bore down, eased, slammed down again.
They came to heading, with a clutter of merchanters in lower plane; Europe and
Pacific ahead of them, Australia breaking clear behind. Atlantic would be moving
any second; India’s Keu was on-station and headed for his ship; Africa’s Porey
was downworld. Africa would move out under its lieutenant’s command and
rendezvous with Porey shuttling up from Downbelow, running tailguard at best.
The inevitable was on them. That rider was some minutes behind Tibet’s message,
insurance. Its message was reaching them now; and a chatter of further
transmission from Tibet itself, and North Pole’s voice added itself, along with