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"I didn't tell you because I was afraid you would abort the mission and pull them back immediately, before they reached the Formic ship."
"You're right. I would have."
"Then I made the right decision to keep it from you," said Lem. "We had to know if this tactical approach would work. No one has reached the Formic ship until now. Every military that has approached it has been obliterated. Even nukes can't get within a thousand klicks of the thing. And if we can't touch it, we can't stop it. This entire war hinges on that single objective: Getting in that ship and cracking it wide open. That's why I kept the drone attack from you. Victor and Imala had to reach the ship. And if they die today, if all we learn from them is that there's a way to reach that ship, then that's knowledge worth dying for. Victor and Imala would agree with me."
She shook her head and was quiet a long moment, not looking at him. Finally she said, "So now what? We pull them out? Tell them to turn back?"
"No, we tell them nothing. They're at the ship. That's the first big hurdle. They actually might sabotage it. And if they do, my father will have no need to launch the drones. In the meantime, you will help me convince him to postpone his attack."
"How?"
We'll go to my father and tell him about Victor and Imala, show him they've reached the ship, and ask that he postpone."
"He won't listen," said Benyawe. "You know him as well as I do. He'll see Victor and Imala as unfortunate casualties and he'll launch anyway."
"Which is why you and I are going to prove to him that attacking the mothership with glasers is a dangerous idea."
"That won't take three days," said Benyawe. "That's an easy argument to make. I'll talk to him myself."
Lem shook his head. "It's not that simple. The glaser my father is using with the drones is not like the prototype you and Dublin developed. It's smaller, more compact. A different team of engineers has been developing it for over a year now based on your and Dublin's original designs. They started as soon as we sent word from the Kuiper Belt that the glaser was operational."
She looked affronted. "Why aren't Dublin and I consulting with these people? We spent six years designing the prototype. We know the tech better than anyone. We could point out flaws, suggest refinements, help them avoid the same mistakes we made."
"Because when you say 'flaws,' or 'refinements,' all my father hears is 'delays delays delays.' You're not consulting because you'd muck up his production schedule. You'd slow everything down."
"Yes, but going to market too soon, hurrying a glaser into production before it's ready, that's far more dangerous. This doesn't make sense, Lem. This isn't like your father. He's never reckless."
"My father is eager to end a war, Benyawe. The glasers are his answer, whether they're ready or not."
"They can't possibly be ready. A year isn't enough time. How could they have made the necessary modifications that fast without encountering glitches?"
"That's what you and I must prove."
"Fine. Take me to them. Dublin can come as well. We'll inspect them. If there's anything amiss, we'll detect it."
Lem shook his head. "Close, but no. I'm going to inspect the glaser, and you're going to stay here, watch a live feed from my camera, and tell me what I'm looking at. The glasers are being assembled in a manufacturing plant that isn't on the company map. High-level clearance. You don't have access. They'd frog-march you out of there before you got within a hundred meters of the place."
"You don't have clearance either."
"I'm the son of the CEO. Everyone knows my face. They'll assume I have clearance. And even if they are suspicious, even if they want to approach me and question my presence, they'll be too afraid of offending Father to say a word. I'll be fine."
"How will you get in the doors?"
Lem pulled a small proximity chip from his pocket. "With this." He slipped it into his wrist pad. "It will open every door in the company."
"I'm not going to ask where you got that or how much it cost."
"I bought it from one of Father's former security officers."
"Former?"
"He suddenly came into some money and decided to retire." Lem rebooted his wrist pad so it would recognize the chip. "Watch the feed and walk me through the inspection. I'm going there now." He turned and moved toward the exit.
"You should have told me about the drones sooner, Lem."
He didn't answer. He pushed open the door, deactivated his greaves, and leaped to his skimmer.
He flew out of the dome and headed east, putting the city behind him. Father built the company's tunnels outside of Imbrium in a wide intricate web far from the prying eyes of regulators. The plant where the drones were being prepped was down in the easternmost tunnels, where security was especially tight. Lem had visited it once before when he weaseled his way onto a tour the plant manager was giving Father. What Lem saw had impressed him: dozens of drones being armed with glasers, hundreds of assembly bots welding and cutting and drilling, an army of workers frantically trying to make Father's deadline. It was a clear testament to how determined Father was in his cause.
