Human-Centauri escorted Holsteader's and Krammer's vessels to the Human-Centauri/CN Leonis hyper hole, and Harlbjorg's and Carter's vessels to the Human-Centauri/Sirius hyper hole, without incident or aggression. At least the Human-Centaurians could be counted on to keep their word. Sirius, however, had no such qualms; doubtlessly its comminucation relays would refuse to forward his messages to Sol as soon as they found out that Sol was now officially their enemy. He didn't like the situation one bit.
"Has he announced it yet?" he asked his pilot.
"Announced what?" the man's hardened jaw line turned to Carter.
"Our sanctions. Has Harlbjorg announced to Sirius that Sol is taking military action against them yet?"
"He told 'em that before we even got through the hole."
"Ulch." Carter put a hand over his eyes. Then, he snapped his fingers and brightened up. "No, wait, that's good! They know we've broken off diplomatic relations with them, but their Human-Centauri gate guard didn't fire on us. They're going to let us through!"
"Or they just hadn't made up their minds to attack us yet."
Carter's heart sank.
"The news has had time to reach some of the nearer outposts, too. I've been radar-sweeping the space in that direction for spacecraft movements ever since we got here. We'll know if they mean to make a move on us by the time the latest echoes get back."
Carter turned away and put his hands behind his back. Being ambushed wasn't his idea of a good time. "Can't you make this crate go any faster?"
"This ain't a combat vessel," the pilot replied. "We can't pull more than about one g without burning out the fusers or knocking down the furniture. And besides, we're gonna be going pretty darned fast when we hit our hyper hole as it is."
"But not faster than a fighter," Carter worried.
"And not faster than a missile, either."
Carter cringed, then turned to one of his aides. "Is our missile ready yet?"
The aide snapped to attention. "All loaded up in the E-mag launcher, ambassador. It's set to transmit as soon as it crosses into Sol space."
"Good. Then send it. If we don't make it back, Sol's got to know what happened."
"Right." The aide disappeared into the next room.
"I sure hope it makes it if we don't," Carter muttered.
A hum and a whoosh echoed through the ship. A brief, tiny streak of light in the front window caught Carter's eye. The missile carrying his announcement of five-way war was on its way.
The pilot checked his radar. "The missile's on course, all right. It's going about . . . eight five zero mils, relative."
"Uh, eight five zero whats?"
"Mils. Milli-c's. Eight hundred fifty one-thousandths of the speed of light, relative to us."
Carter whistled. "Whew. That ought to outrun anything they've got."
"Except a laser."
"Er, except a laser, of course."
"Or a particle beam."
"My, you're the shining optimist, aren't you?"
The pilot turned to face Carter directly. "You're the one who got us into this war."
"Hey," Carter protested, "This isn't a war. We've received no news of a formal declaration of war from Sol. We're engaged in sanctions with aggressor nations to protect our interests and ensure lasting peace."
"Diplomats," the pilot snorted as he turned back to his displays. "You'd sell people's children into slavery and then find a way to sugar-coat it."
The Pentagon War is continued in chapter 6.
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