Ivan glanced at the monitor. Sure enough, he saw a dozen bright points of light leaving Earth’s environs, heading his way. The corona from the fusion drives would be far more visible from the rear, of course, but there was enough omnidirectional glow to register, if you were looking for it.

The Mad Astra was not, at the moment, maneuverable. Cannibalization of the ship to build the communications station involved periods of time where everything was in transition and nothing was operational. He’d have a working but much reduced version of the Astra in about twenty-six hours. Not soon enough to get out of range of the Navy.

Even if he could run, doing so would leave the slowly growing communications station alone and defenseless.

He ran some calculations. There didn’t seem to be a solution that ended with both himself and the comms station able to survive the upcoming visit. The Astra had no armaments, defensive or otherwise, and Ralph didn’t have any helpful suggestions.

Ivan found that last bit especially interesting. The computer that ran his emulation was vastly powerful, with an effectively infinite storage capacity. But even granting that it didn’t have all the knowledge of the Makers, it didn’t seem particularly resourceful. Maybe a sense of self-preservation was hard to inculcate in something that had no concept of self.

The Navy had radar. They’d see anything coming in plenty of time to dodge or shoot back. They had better legs than the Astra, at least the old version. The stripped-down version, maybe not so much. However, they’d be sure to take the time to blow up the station, so he would be back to square one.

Nuts.

Was there an advantage to delaying Ralph’s plan by letting the station be blown up? Not really. Communications with the Makers didn’t seem to be a danger point in and of itself. Ralph was the real danger. If the attempt to send a message was foiled, who knew what Ralph might try next? Good strategy dictated that Ivan keep all the players in their most comfortable grooves, where they’d be the most predictable and controllable.

Ivan sat back, an arm draped across a bare steel girder, and stared through the open wall frame into open space, pondering alternatives.

Danger.

From the Navy? Yeah, I’m working on it.

Are your people ever NOT fighting?

They believe we are a danger to them.

Their behavior is not rational.

Self-defense isn’t rational?

In the absence of all pertinent facts, yes.

That seemed a bit self-serving, but on the other hand that would also require a sense of self. Ivan wondered if Ralph was perhaps growing one. But that was for another conversation.

Options?