Free The Machinery of Light by David J. Williams Page B

from the look of the emissions now lacerating the vacuum, those shots are coming all the way from—
    “Earth,” says Haskell.
    The shit going on overhead is invisible to the naked eye. But no one uses those anymore anyway—it’s all enhanced vision and extended wavelengths now. The sky is almost caked with fire. Shots slam against L2’s dreadnaughts even as they return the favor.
    “The East is bouncing DE off our nearside mirrors,” says Haskell.
    “Of course,” says Carson. She’s propped up next to him in the cockpit. He’s injected her with something that makes it tough to feel her flesh. Everything’s gone all fuzzy. But her mind’s working on overdrive all the same.
    “We need to talk,” she says.
    L ynx isn’t one to miss an opportunity—his mind shoulders the pilots aside, seizes key software nodes in the cockpit, and sets the controls to send the corvette skimming past the nearest dreadnaught and straight at the converted colony ship that’s just beyond it. Both those ships have other shit to worry about right now—like the fact that they’re being shelled from the other side of the Earth-Moon system. Disorder hits the L2 fleet as it struggles to react to the new threat. The corvette plunges in toward the colony ship, which fills the screens as the pilots struggle desperately to regain control. Lynx hasn’t the slightest intention of letting them do so.
    C learing ten thousand meters,” says Spencer.
    “Roger that,” says Sarmax.
    The coast of Asia is passing beneath them. The vid-feeds show the chaos that’s gripped the Chinese cities across the last hour. The American attack has punctured the Eastern def-grids in multiple places and left the population centers helpless.
    “They’re still intact,” breathes Spencer.
    “Exactly,” says Sarmax.
    The logic’s plain enough. Why wipe out cities when you can tip them into anarchy instead? The electric grids are gone. The zone’s fucked. Spencer and Sarmax gaze on pure pandemonium in the streets of New Shanghai and all its brethren. The occasional DE blast from the American satellites overhead has only added to the madness.
    “Not gonna distract the East that much,” says Spencer.
    “But every little bit helps.”
    Meaning that every military resource the Coalition had in its megacities has been totally preoccupied. Meaning there’s been that much more that the East’s command structure has had to worry about. But now the tide is turning. The fleet that’s just over a minute into its ascent is spreading out around all sides of the
Hammer
, all ships careful not to stray within the fiery clouds of the behemoth’s exhaust. Yet Spencer can see that he hasn’t been thinking big enough all the same …
    “Fuck,” he says.
    “Hello,” says Sarmax.
    Off to the north:
Hammer of the Skies
has a twin. With its own fleet spread out around it. Combined, the carpet of Eurasian ships extends for several hundred klicks in all directions. An armada the likes of which the world has never seen—and Spencer can only imagine what it must look like from the American positions in low-orbit.
    B lotting out the fucking planet,” she mutters.
    “I see it,” he says.
    The camera-feeds they’re hacking into go out. Haskell can’t tell whether they got destroyed or whether she’s just lost zone-contact with what’s going on closer to the Earth. There’s enough shit going down that the answer could be both. Though the lunar portion of it still seems to be holding up. Congreve sprawls on the horizon, drifting ever closer. It looks almost serene from up here.
    Haskell’s mind is anything but. She turns toward Carson—is surprised to find she can move her neck far enough to do so. He glances at her while he works the craft’s controls.
    “Don’t say it,” he says.
    “How do you know what I’m about to say?”
    “Because you never could fool me.”
    “You’re saying you can read minds too?”
    “I’m saying we have a connection.”
    She