Moore noted that he did not receive a copy, or an offer of a copy. He had a feeling that they were entering FUBAR territory. In not very much longer, the commodore might be seeing the situation from his angle. That would be unfortunate, because it would mean they’d failed.

Mandelbaum stared at her tablet for several minutes, poking and swiping at it at seemingly random intervals. Finally she looked up. “It would appear that Jennings’s evaluation is correct. And how in hell did he get these images before us? Surveil?”

“Sorry, ma’am. Don’t know. However, the message did mention larger optics. Big ship like that, lots of money, he might have room for a four-fifty Maksutov-Cassegrain. We’d never be able to touch that.”

“The takeaway, though, is that the bird has flown,” Moore said. Mandelbaum favored him with a murderous glare, and Moore wondered for a moment if he should get himself checked for radiation burns.

“Ready Room,” Mandelbaum said, curtly. Without waiting, she launched herself from her chair.

* * *

Moore settled himself comfortably and pulled up his workspace to skim the full vids. Mandelbaum pulled a coffee and gestured to him to help himself.

When he was seated again, she put her coffee down and said, “We seem to consistently underestimate this character.”

“Because we keeping thinking we’re dealing with Ivan Pritchard, a down-on-his-luck computer programmer turned miner. He’s just along for the ride. It’s the computer that comes with the nanites that’s the true antagonist.”

Mandelbaum nodded. “We keep our A.I.s strictly limited, so that humans make all the real decisions. We tend to think that it’ll always be that way. Perhaps that’s unrealistic.” She pressed the intercom button. “Signals.”

“Ma’am?”

“What’s the delay on communications with the Getting Ahead?”

“Twenty seconds, round trip, ma’am.”

Mandelbaum’s eyebrows rose, and Moore found himself impressed as well. The civilian ship had closed a significant fraction of the distance since they’d first been detected. Their top speed at turnover must have been astronomical.

Mandelbaum looked at him. “It’s not ideal for voice. Let’s try text.”

Moore nodded, and Mandelbaum pulled her tablet into position. She shared her screen with him, then began typing.

Concur with your analysis, Captain. Subject is in the wind. No info on chrome balls. Can you give details?

Mandelbaum hit send, then cradled her coffee. The answer came back in two minutes.

Balls likely contained nanite payloads for specific targets. See news, Merc Venus Mars. Five balls when we were here, three likely accounted for. Last two? Earth, Moon?

“Shit!”

Moore jumped at the expletive, and Mandelbaum gave him an apologetic look. She leaned over her tablet and typed out a response.

Conversion of Earth, Moon imminent? Ungood. Do you have a suggestion to rescue the situation?

This time, over three minutes passed before a response came in.