By Blood Alone Read Online Free PDF Page A

hour, three minutes, and two seconds.”
    Jepp grabbed an armful of tie-downs and hurried to secure his prize. The sinners had increased their speed! “Take the P in among the asteroids. Maybe we can lose them.”
    “Order refused,” Henry said crisply. “The odds of this vessel surviving such a course of action fall well below my acceptable minimums.”
    Jepp thought about the random manner in which the closely packed asteroids bounced off each other, knew the computer was correct, but refused to surrender his find. The solution? Place himself in the loving hands of God. “Revelations 1:8 ... ‘I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord...’ ”
    The navcomp processed the override, found a match, and fired the ship’s drives. The human had decided to destroy both the ship and himself. That being the case, the AI contacted the onboard autochef and cancelled Jepp’s dinner.
     
    The scout ship watched its meal grow warmer and start to move. Additional acceleration would result in excessive fuel consumption—but seemed warranted, given the circumstances. More power was applied, the vessel surged forward, and the distance continued to close.
    Jepp secured a final tie-down, cycled through a lock, and entered the control area. Half-empty ration paks were scattered about, dirty clothes hung from equipment racks, and tools littered the deck.
    He opened the helmet but kept the suit on-a sensible precaution when blundering through asteroid belts.
    A plastic crucifix poked up and out of the debris that covered the console. He touched it for luck, dropped into the command chair, and ran an eye over the screens. “Blast! The Philistines have gained on us!”
    Henry checked his memory mod for “Philistines,” discovered that the human had assumed certain things about those on the other ship, and realized that “gained on us” was the operant part of the sentence. “That is correct ... they have gained on us.”
    “Well, do something, damn you!”
    “I am presently guiding the ship through the asteroids. Would you like to take the controls?”
    Jepp looked up at the main viewscreen. Sunlight glided across a pockmarked chunk of rock and was lost in the blackness beyond. The Pelican slid past, paused while a house-sized boulder drifted by, and continued its journey. One slip, one mistake, and the whole thing was over. “No, but do what you can.”
    “Of course,” Henry replied evenly. “I’ll do what I can.”
    The next hour passed with excruciating slowness as the Pelican pushed its way into the belt ... and the other vessel started to slow.
    Still, time was on his side, or so Jepp had assumed. Suddenly that advantage, like the easy profit, was snatched away. Harsh, actinic light strobed across the slowly tumbling spacescape, and the human sat bolt upright in his chair. “What in heaven’s name was that?”
    “That was an exploding asteroid,” the navcomp replied cheerfully. “The most direct route between two points is a straight line. That being the case, our pursuers decided to remove obstacles rather than go around them. A rather unconventional use of weaponry, but effective nonetheless.”

    “Shut the hell up,” Jepp said sourly. “How long before the idolators reach us?”
    “About ten minutes,” Henry replied calmly, “give or take a second or two.”
     
    The scout ship waited for its bow cannons to recycle, fired, and moved through the newly created opening. The feast, which continued to waste precious resources, would soon be ingested. Millions of nano were notified and brought on-line. They began to seethe with barely contained energy. Once the meal was brought aboard, it would be their task to digest it.
    Rock fragments sparkled as they hit the ship’s screens, were reduced to their component atoms, and drifted away.
     
    There were fewer asteroids now—a fact that allowed Jepp to see his pursuer for the first time. It filled the main screen. He fell through the pit of