“Those scientists were alone here,” he growled. “They couldn’t even call for help. If only the damned Therons let us have more green priests, we’d have assigned one here for instant telink communication. Dr. Serizawa could have sent a message at the first sign of trouble. At least we would have known what was going on.”

Lanyan could not understand why Chairman Wenceslas didn’t simply have the King issue an ultimatum and conscript the services of as many green priests as they needed. How could primitive forest dwellers stand against a concerted EDF action if the Hansa decided to flex its muscles?

An EDF geological specialist looked up from his technical station. “The first scans have given us some information, sir. All the rubble displays the same degree of cooling. Therefore, the destruction occurred over a very short period of time—inconceivably short, in fact. My guess is that the four moons and our station were destroyed within hours of each other.”

“Hours!” The General felt a sinking sensation. “What could possibly demolish four whole moons in mere hours?” What are we up against?

The pilot looked over at Lanyan. “There’s no way any help could have arrived in time, General, even if Dr. Serizawa had access to telink. Top speed with the stardrive from the nearest EDF deployment would still require the better part of a week. Just no way we could have helped.”

“And then we would have lost a green priest, too,” Lanyan admitted. But still, dammit, we could have known what was happening! He hated having his hands tied by the arrogance of treetalkers on one hand and the speed of light on the other.

Right now, though, the very slowness and plodding predictability of standard EM transmissions gave him an opportunity. Serizawa’s emergency broadcast would have been beamed out in all directions, but it could only go so far—a very precise distance, in fact. Lanyan could get there in time to meet it head-on.

The reconnaissance outrigger whipped around Oncier, stealing a parade of images along the way. Then, like a hapless child at the end of a game of crack-the-whip, the vessel shot outward again, away from the newborn star.

“I need a fast analysis, Lieutenant,” the General said, narrowing his ice-blue eyes. “We’ve made our estimates of the precise time of the attack. Now calculate exactly how far an omnidirectional signal would travel in the time since. I want to grab that wave front before it can deteriorate further.”

At his technical station, the lieutenant crunched numbers through the fast computers until he had his answer. The General ordered his navigator-pilot to set their course. “Engage the stardrive.” Though he felt no dramatic acceleration, the outrigger rushed forward, blurring out of the regular space-time continuum, racing to catch up with electromagnetic waves that were already many weeks old.