“Are we not done here?” I pulled myself up to my full height and glowered. If these were my final moments, I would face them as a captain. “Or are you going to kill me now? Are you going to wipe out the whole of humankind because we don’t measure up to your criteria?”

Nine eyes blinked at me. I stood resolute in their glare.

The moment stretched.

We do not kill the unworthy.

“Well, good—”

To do so would be to reveal our existence to the enemy.

The words carried such overtones of sadness I felt my anger dissipate. The bear turned and began to shuffle back towards the roiling light at the centre of the domed chamber.

I put out a hand. “Wait!”

The creature paused. Its head craned around, peering back over its massive shoulder.

“What enemy?” I asked.

The bear worked its jaws. A low rumble came from deep within its chest.

The enemy of life.

Fifty-Eight: Trouble Dog

FIFTY-EIGHT

TROUBLE DOG

I limped through the whistling emptiness of the higher dimensions. My core systems were supposed to be hardened against the consequences of nuclear blasts, but close proximity to the electromagnetic pulses from Fenrir’s torpedoes had fried multiple minor circuits, and even caused a couple of small electrical fires. My starboard hull plates were scorched and buckled, and I had already expended the majority of my ammunition. I had no torpedoes and my defence cannons were more than half empty.

As soon as I had entered the void, I had begun to intercept high-priority signals from the Adalwolf.

“Fenrir,” he now sent in a code known only to our pack. “Fenrir, are you there? What’s happening?” He sounded impatient. I let him stew for a few moments, and then opened a channel. I needed to stall for time.

“She’s dead.”

I kept my avatar as it had been: the dishevelled woman in the trench coat, hair slick with rain. In contrast, he had replaced his human aspect with the yellow eyes and dripping muzzle of a snarling wolf. For several seconds, he merely gaped at me. Then, when he had composed himself, he asked, “And how did she die?”

I allowed myself a smile. “Does it matter?”

“What became of the weapon?”

“Hopefully, it burned to ash. When Fenrir fell, she took it into the sun with her. Even if it survived, you’ll never find it.”

The wolf bore its fangs. “You killed our sister.”

“She started it.”

“And now you think you can take me on?”

We both knew that with my damaged armour and depleted stocks of ammunition I wouldn’t have a cat in hell’s chance if I went up against a fully armed and operational Carnivore.

“If I have to.”

Adalwolf shook his head contemptuously. “You’re insane.”