The silence between them had lingered.
She wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed. "I don't expect you to say anything, Mazer. I know you're not ready to say those words. But when you are, if that moment ever comes, say them to me in Maori."
Two weeks later he had left for China.
Bingwen was watching him. "You're thinking of her right now, aren't you?"
"I'm glad you got to speak with her, Bingwen. That makes me very happy. She's a very special person to me, and so are you. When my friends become friends, I'm happy."
Bingwen had smiled and was about to say something when a voice from the holotable filled the room.
"Greetings, gentlemen. My name is Lem Jukes. Thank you for returning our holo."
The man's head and torso appeared above the holotable. He gestured to his right and motioned others to join him in the holofield. "Victor, Imala, join me in here please. Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet Imala Bootstamp and Victor Delgado, the team that has infiltrated the Formic ship and who will lead this effort." Lem looked at something slightly to the left. "Thank you for setting up cameras on your end. We see you have everyone gathered."
Wit went through the introductions, leaving Mazer and Bingwen for the end.
"Thank you for connecting us, Bingwen," said Imala.
There was a time delay that took some getting used to. Wit and Lem kept talking over each other, realizing too late that they were doing it, and then they would stop and restart again. But soon they got into a rhythm. And once the Luna team began their presentation, things went much faster.
Lem showed them several vids from inside the Formic ship that featured the cargo bay, sleep chamber, garden, launch tubes, narrow passageways, and helm. Victor then described how he and Imala had reached the ship, and Lem went into detail about what resources he could offer in terms of weapons, suits, whatever the team needed.
"We're a large group," said Wit. "We obviously can't fit in the shuttle Victor and Imala used. How do you propose getting us to the ship?"
"Using the same principle," said Lem. "We put you in a ship, disguise it to look like flotsam drifting harmlessly through space, and you float right up to the hull of the mothership. However, since there are so many of you, we obviously can't put you all in a single shuttle. Even if we packed you in like sardines, the shuttle would be too big and too conspicuous. The Formics would notice it, even if you were moving slowly and weren't on a collision course."
"Loading all of us into single ship is a bad idea anyway," said Cocktail. "If something were to happen to the shuttle, the entire strike team would be lost. That's putting all of your eggs in a single basket."
"Agreed," said Lem. "It's safer to split you up. In fact, we propose putting each of you in your own individual vessel."
A schematic appeared in the holofield. It was a small tube-shaped ship with the outline of a prostrate man inside of it--not unlike a coffin or a sleep chamber. "We call them 'cocoons,'" said Lem. "Our engineers are building them now. As you can see, there's only enough room for a single passenger. And it's a tight squeeze. You won't be able to move much at all, but that's for your own safety. The smaller the cocoon, the less likely it will be tagged as a collision threat. We'll attach small electrodes to your muscles to keep them active as you drift."
"How many of these cocoons are you building?" asked Wit.
"Twelve," said Lem. "Victor will go in one, plus eleven from your party. But we recommend that all of you come to Luna. You'll need to train for a couple days to get used to maneuvering in a zero-G environment, and not everyone excels at that. We recommend that those who do well in zero-G constitute the strike team."
ZZ said, "If twelve identical pieces of wreckage float toward the ship, won't the Formics notice that?"
"They won't be identical," said Lem.
Random pieces of scrap metal began attaching themselves to the exterior of the cocoon in the holofield.
"Each cocoon will be uniquely disguised to look like wreckage. We'll use the same approach Victor and Imala did. Paint, scorch marks, torn metal, broken conduit, whatever we can scrounge up. Some of you will be flat. Some of you will be bent forward slightly. We're randomizing the shape, too. If you're lucky, you'll get a flat one."
Lem reached forward with his hands and rotated the schematic, giving them a better view of the small propulsion systems at the rear and sides of the vessel. "To further save on room, we're not including any flight controls or avionics. Instead, the cocoons will be remotely controlled. All you'll have to do is climb inside, and our drone pilots will do the rest."
"Even with those adjustments," said Deen. "Twelve pieces of flotsam doesn't seem very inconspicuous. It worked for Victor and Imala because they were one piece of scrap. Twelve is a lot more than one."
"Consider the size of the thing," said Mazer. "It's enormous. The cocoons could come from all sides and angles. And we could stagger their arrival over the period of a day or more so everyone isn't getting there at the same moment. In fact, depending on how we design the op and the individual objectives, arriving at different times is best anyway. The first wave infiltrates the ship. A second wave secures and holds the passageways. A third wave takes the cargo bay. Et cetera."
"That's the idea," said Lem. "And our shipbuilding crews intend to help in another way as well. Your twelve cocoons won't be the only pieces of wreckage approaching the ship. For the Formics to ignore you, you must blend in with the environment. But you can't be invisible if you're the only things in the environment. So we're making at least three hundred other remote-controlled projectiles to create a sea of wreckage around the Formic ship that we completely control. These mini floaters will be smaller than the cocoons in most instances, but collectively they'll create a haze of wreckage for you to drift through."
"Beyond that," said Victor, "the mini floaters will also allow us to test the sensitivity of the Formics' collision-avoidance system. In other words, if the Formics start firing at anything that twitches, regardless of how slow it's moving, we'll know we need to reevaluate our approach."
"When will these cocoons be ready?" asked Wit. "And for that matter, how quickly can you build three hundred remote-controlled projectiles?"
"We have an entire production line dedicated to this effort," said Lem. "It's the largest such facility of its kind in the world. I have a warehouse full of people who are working around the clock. My father is putting the weight and resources of his company behind this. Juke Limited is committed to ending this war. We've built a shield of ships between Earth and the Formic mothership. Now we're ready to end this once and for all. That is, if you'll join us."