Battle Station Read Online Free

figuring I could order Marvin to replay the speech later if I felt it necessary.
    Overall, things sounded worse than I’d hoped. They had no ships to return to their worlds. They’d been stuck in their satellites, due to their agreement with the Macros. It didn’t sound like they had a whole lot of weaponry, either. What they had was a large herd of willing Centaurs, anxious to die for the cause, to fight the good fight. That was pretty much it.
    Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I tuned out the Centaurs entirely. They were now onto the topic of clear, empty skies. Whenever one of them began singing that song, you were in for a long serenade. They clearly missed their open skies above all else. Being a claustrophobic race, they felt closed-in even while inside satellites that were many miles across.
    When the speech ended at last, I turned to Marvin. “Stop transmission,” I said, “but don’t close the channel. I want to talk to you first.”
    “Done.”
    “What’s this about them taking a long walk up to the satellites? Do you understand that? How could anyone walk to a satellite?”
    “I believe they are talking about the umbilicals.”
    I stared at him. “You mean those satellites are tethered to the planetary surfaces?”
    “They once were, yes. The Macros severed those ties as part of their agreement.”
    I nodded and leaned back in my chair. I recalled the Centaur satellites. I’d only been there for a short time, but I’d found them impressive. “A spiraling walk,” I said aloud. “As I recall, they had tubes which led to the top of their satellite. They used narrow, spiraling walkways that only a mountain goat could feel at home upon. That must be what they mean.”
    I had a very strange image form in my mind then: millions of Centaurs forced to walk up an endless spiraling tube all the way into orbit. These people didn’t have spaceships, or at least, they no longer had any. They’d gotten up into their floating cities by walking there, then the Macros had cut the cord on them, sealing them in the sky forever.
    “They said something about many of them falling,” I said thoughtfully. “Nasty.”
    Marvin didn’t make any comments. He studied me with about five cameras. Other cameras were taking in views from the observatory, which I now noticed he’d opened at some point. Extending a tentacle like a reeled out hose, he had a cluster of cameras at the tip of it. He was busy examining the views afforded by the glass-bottomed room. I couldn’t blame him for that. The Centaurs had left my mind wandering as well.
    “Open channel again,” I said.
    “Done.”
    “Centaurs of Eden,” I said. “We do not have enough ships to drive the Macros from your worlds. We do have enough to transport your bravest warriors down to the surface where they can run free, however. They will have to fight well, and every one of them will have to be armed with heavy laser packs. After the planets are free of the machines, we can help by transporting your population down to the surface. Does this plan suit your needs?”
    Eventually, the reply came back. Before it did, I’d made myself dinner and eaten it.
    “We accept your offer with equal measures of thanks and trepidation. How large are these transports? Will there be a sky to watch, during the flight? Will the walls be far enough from the herds to allow them to run at full gallop?”
    I snorted. “No, I’m afraid not. There will be only enough room for your bodies to stand quietly, shoulder-to-shoulder on the way down. But think, although this time might be difficult for you, it will be very brief. No more than a few minutes of crowding before you are free again on the surface of your natural worlds. Surely, your herds have the bravery and honor to withstand five minutes of discomfort!”
    The reply came back and seemed injured in tone. “It is not a matter of honor. It is not a matter of bravery, or discomfort. It is a matter of the mind.