Quoted By:
“Sixteen hours.
As we reached the apex of our orbital transfer maneuver, the RAIN flipped lengthwise in preparation for a retrograde burn. The pressure on my body eased for a moment. The pressure on my mind did not.
Sixteen hours. That is our window to decide whether to deviate from our course. For a human, it would be an absurdly small amount of time – offering no opportunity to calculate risks or weigh impacts. Only basic guesswork and crude emotion would remain: animal fear balanced against simple hate.
But MERRYGATE had only felt the latter. Her avatar burned blood-crimson as she realized that more would be taken from her: more obligations broken and possibilities cut-short. She recalled the vow she had made to me in that green-thatched Tharsis nursery – her conviction in declaring that our home was not yet lost. She had treasured that promise – and now knew that it would be taken by the same species who had taken away all other promises.
She remembered all of this. And although the crimson eventually faded down her filigreed arms, I knew she would not forget.
But for now, a meshwork of graphs and schematics filled the bridge with ruby light. MERRYGATE worked unceasingly to analyze a weapon which had no human analogue. She struggled to find an optimum – pushing immense amounts of data through her processing substrate to solve a problem that was neither defined nor truly solvable.
“All I offer are hypotheticals, companion” she whispered in a low, tremulous voice. “It is impossible to ascertain the status of their weapon from the information provided.”
“The impactor appears to be complete, but they have provided no evidence indicating that it is prepared to launch. And if it is launched, interception may remain a remote option. Until the object builds enough velocity to ignite its ram-fusion drive, it will have to rely on conventional propulsion.”
