by S. H. Jucha
“So you think it’s the bully on the block.”
“Either a bully or willing to sacrifice itself, which seems highly unlikely.”
“Well, bullies are all about aggression, which means they might not have bothered with defenses.”
Alex looked at her intently, her idea connecting with one that had been lurking in the back of his mind. “What was your impression when you first saw that ship in the vids?” he challenged her.
Tatia replayed the images in her mind. “I see an anomaly—something that shouldn’t exist as a single entity.”
“Yes, that was my thought. I think where there’s one, there’s many.”
“But how does that help you? If you’re right, it makes your chance of surviving an encounter even worse.”
“That just means I have to get this right,” Alex replied. “I’m thinking that if they are the bully on the block, they depend on that beam weapon. In addition, I think that silver ship has to go home to a bigger ship or some place called home. It didn’t come from a void.”
“And this is leading you where?” Tatia asked, feeling as if she was losing the thread of the conversation.
“We swamp its beam weapon with second-stage missiles, launching so many warheads at it that it can’t possibly get them all.”
“You’re betting an awful lot on your assumptions, Captain.”
“What is the alternative, Major? Doing nothing?”
Tatia had to admit he had a point. She’d always preferred to stack the odds in her favor, maximizing her chance of success. Right now, she didn’t envy him. He was taking a passenger ship populated by only a handful of survivors back to a world where one or more alien ships probably awaited them. How did you stack the odds in your favor, under those circumstances?
“All right, so you overwhelm the alien ship with your missiles,” Tatia asked, resuming her pacing. “But is their hull like our hulls, the Rêveur’s hull, or something entirely different?”
“We would have to find out,” Alex replied. “Though, I can’t see it hanging around while we sample it.”
“Yes, Captain, we sample it!” Julien exclaimed.
“Welcome to the conversation, Julien,” Alex replied with a touch of sarcasm.
“Your pardon, Captain, but I believe Major Tachenko’s sneakiness has merit.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” she said dubiously.
“In this case, Major, that’s exactly what we need.” Julien replied. “You’ve indicated we face a superior foe, and the key to success is discovering their weakness and using it against them. To accomplish this, we will need several missile types, the last of which would be warheads.”
“Explain,” Alex requested.
Tatia would have stayed to hear the answer, but just then the bridge access way opened to reveal Alain. Most New Terrans couldn’t tell the twins apart, but the difference was obvious to her, and he was just the Méridien she was hoping to see. She signaled for him to stay silent with a finger to her lips, motioning to Alex, who was deep in discussion with Julien. Then she strolled up to him, a smile on her face, linked an arm through his, and guided him back out.
As the access way closed, Alex wore his own smile. Tatia tried to keep her relationship with Alain low-key, but everyone was aware of the liaison. And more than one New Terran-Méridien pair circled each other, which gave him another idea…but one mountain at a time.
* * *
The following morning, Renée and Terese strode to the bridge. According to Julien, the Captain had been there throughout the night. They came through the access way and staggered to a halt. Alex was striding around the bridge in conversation with Julien, his arms waving about energetically. The vid screens displayed hundreds of colored dots with streaks of light indicating their flight paths, consuming nearly every centimeter of their surfaces.
Alex stopped his pacing, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. He stood that way for several moments then said, “Okay, Julien, cancel scenario one-thirty-three and one-thirty-five. Keep scenario one-thirty-four. That’s our best case for series-2. Combine it with scenario ninety-two, for series-1. Display it.”
Julien sent a quick comm to Renée.
Renée signaled Terese and the two women quietly backed to the rear of the bridge and settled into observer seats accessed from the bulkhead.
The screens blanked. Then the central screen displayed two ships approaching one another. Two icons launched from the ship labeled the Rêveur and streaked off toward the second ship. Lines of trajectory emanated from the two icons, aimed at the smaller ship. The view magnified, spilling the images onto the other screens. Soon, the myriad trajectory lines overwhelmed the casual viewer’s ability to understand the martial dance.
“Outcome,” Alex requested, his voice strained as he stared at the screen.
“Probability of alien destruction is forty-two percent. Probability of fighter destruction is ninety-eight percent.”
Alex’s anger boiled out in a stream of expletives, which the two women didn’t receive in translation.
Terese hid a smile while Renée frowned.
Alex stalked over to the command chair and slumped into it. He remained there for a while—one hand drumming a slow cadence against the side of the chair, the other cradling his head. Suddenly, he launched into a standing position and ordered another scenario. The screens continued to blaze and then clear again as Alex ran more and more scenarios.
The extent of his frustration was evident. Tendons and blood vessels stood out on his thick neck and his fists were balled. He stopped his pacing and stared at the overhead as if seeking inspiration, letting out a groan of exasperation. When his anger finally dissipated, his exhaustion was evident.
“It looks like we must have an intelligence transfer, even though it will take up missile slots. Remember the earlier scenario I discarded, calling it… um?”
“Your expressions were a child’s musings and too stupid a concept to take credit for,” said Julien, his amusement evident.
“Yeah, that one,” Alex barked a laugh. “We have to guarantee the fighter controllers can pick up enough data from the small amount of nanites we’ll be able to deliver. So we need the relay. If we take my child’s musing, which was…?”
“Scenario forty-eight, Captain, the comm buoys.”
“Right, so assume each fighter has two comm buoys to deploy to transfer the nanites-1 intelligence off the hull to the fighters’ controllers. Then, in the remaining missile slots, use four nanites-1 missiles, two nanites-2 missiles, and four warhead missiles. Employ both fighters in the attack. Combine the new parameters and display.”
Again the screens filled with a blinding set of trajectory lines then froze at the apex of the fight. “Probability of alien destruction is sixty-eight percent. Probability of fighter destruction is eighty-one percent.”
Julien thought a break was long overdue, but he chose to forgo the suggestion. Alex appeared to be reaching an answer, and his biorhythms were quieting as he retreated from the tension that had been building throughout the night.
“Time for some radical thinking,” he mumbled, leaning over the bridge consoles, his arms bracing himself while he thought. “What parameters most severely limit our probability of success? And, if those parameters are within our reach, would they give us a ninety percent probability of success against the alien ship?”
“What fighter survival probability do you wish me to use, Captain?” Julien inquired.
Alex rubbed his face with his hands. “No parameter, at this time,” he said finally.
For a moment, there was quiet on the bridge while the screens went blank. “All scenarios are limited by one common factor, Captain. We have insufficient fighter and missile resources to ensure a win against a single silver ship.”
“Assume three then four fight
ers. Same missile loads for each additional fighter. Run the scenario.”
After the blaze of screens froze again, indicating the end of the three-fighter scenario, Julien announced, “The desired outcome can’t be achieved with three fighters. I’m running a four-fighter scenario now.” The screens blanked again and lit again with the display of points and lines. “Probability of alien destruction with four fighters, given our assumptions, is ninety-three percent. Congratulations, Captain.”
“And the fighter’s stats?”
“Probability of fighter destruction is forty-one percent.”
“Display the scenario on the holo-vid.” Alex walked around and through the holo-vid display, examining the action in minute detail. He had Julien rock the timeline back and forth for nearly a half hour. When he was finished, he rubbed his face with his hands. “Yes, Julien, this is a good start, but we can do better, much better.”
The women watched as Alex lowered himself into a command chair, leaned back and covered his eyes to ease the glare of the lights. Terese signaled Renée with Julien’s medical update of Alex. She indicated several parameters for Ser to note: low blood sugar, severe adrenalin drain, low cellular ATP levels, and several more negative indicators. Renée signaled her then Terese rose and left the bridge.
Renée approached Alex and touched his shoulder. “Captain…Alex…”
He swiveled his head to regard Renée, a soft smile on his lips. “I think we have the last piece of the puzzle.”
“As I knew you would, Captain. But now you need to rest. And Julien should have his power-crystal recharged or replaced. The two of you would need an inexhaustible supply of energy if you continue on at this rate.”
Alex climbed to his feet as the holo-vid and screens winked out. “Sorry, Julien, I didn’t mean to drain your lifeline.”
“I’ve been honored to play my part, Captain.”
“Rather than wait for a recharge, please have Claude swap out your power-crystals. I want a refined solution, with the Rêveur loading four fighters. Keep a shuttle on board, if you can.”
“I’ll be ready when you are, Captain.”
“You’re a good man, Julien,” Alex said as he and Renée left the bridge.
Created one hundred sixteen years ago, having served his wards and citizens faithfully for every tick of that time, Julien experienced one of his proudest moments.
* * *
Renée accompanied Alex the short distance back to his cabin. He walked straight to the sleeping quarters and sat heavily on the bed. “We’re going to have a chance, Ser.” And with that he closed his eyes and fell back onto the bed, exhausted.
She had rarely heard her honorific from Alex’s lips. As a House daughter, she’d expected the term of respect from him when they first met. And his insistence on calling her by her first name—an honor only allowed family—had annoyed her. Over time, though, it had become familiar…then valued. Now she wondered if something had changed between them without her realizing it.
Terese joined them as Renée had requested and pressed a hypo with a mild soporific to Alex’s neck. He barely twitched in response to the injection and was soon unconscious. Together, the two women worked to remove his ship boots. They heard him mumble something unintelligible.
As they sought to remove his uniform jacket, Terese sighed.
When they finished, Terese slipped out of the cabin. Renée stayed by the bed and commed Julien for an update. He’d already ordered the replacement power-crystals from Claude and sent an order to TS-2. The station manager had promised to redirect the delivery of two power-crystals destined for an electrical company. Once Renée was satisfied that the Captain’s orders were being fulfilled, she stopped to regard his sleeping form.
She watched Alex continue to mumble and twitch in his sleep. “Relax, Alex,” she said and laid a hand on his bare arm. Soon his limbs stopped twitching and his mumbling ceased. He took a deep, shuddering breath. She looked at her hand on his arm and his now quiet form. Succumbing to impulse, she pulled his arm away from his body to make room and lay down on her side next to him, scarcely contacting him, watching his chest rise and fall. Hoping the soporific would prevent him from waking, she wriggled up against him, resting her head on his shoulder and laying an arm across his chest. She felt his arm reflexively tuck her close to him, then his breathing deepened and he passed into a deep slumber.
Hours passed before Renée stirred. There was a moment of panic when she realized where she was, but it was quickly banished. She rested her head back on his chest and relaxed, enjoying a few more moments of quiet with him. His heart beat was strong—the same deep sound that had lulled her to sleep. Finally, with regret, she eased out of bed and tiptoed from the cabin.
Julien detected Renée’s return to consciousness and signaled Étienne to abandon his post at the Captain’s door, where he and Alain had stood to ensure their privacy. He restored her comm access and released her message queue. Terese was signaled as well.
As Renée walked to her quarters, she passed Terese, who was headed to the Captain’s quarters with hypos full of electrolytes and nutrients. Terese’s nod was polite, but her smile was tinged with mischief.
-24-
Nine hours after falling into bed, Alex abruptly came to and sat up. To his surprise, his jacket and boots were missing, and he couldn’t remember removing them. He found them stowed in his wardrobe and hurried to use the refresher and dress, anxious to return to the bridge for another planning session with Julien. However, two things puzzled him. Why did he feel like he’d recently eaten a full meal? And what were those intense dreams of Renée about?
Alex strode onto the bridge calling out, “All charged up, Julien?”
“New power-crystals have been installed, Captain. Spares were ordered and are scheduled to arrive with Major Tachenko in two days.”
“Excellent, so how do we stand on our weapons scenario?”
Julien triggered the holo-vid display and went through the attack scenario with four fighters step by step.
Alex was pleased to see that Julien had made several improvements. For one, he’d simplified the missile’s design to allow interchangeable second stages. Also, each primary stage could now deliver more stage-2 nanites, which would be fired ticks apart. It would minimize the possibility that a single beam might destroy them all at once. And he’d refined the buoy design so they could fit within the missile housing’s second stage. Finally, he had co-opted a controller and telemetry scanner to guide the missile heads at the silver ship.
“You’ve been busy, Julien,” Alex marveled. “If you were standing here, I’d hug you.”
“Sentiment accepted as intended, Captain.”
“We have one critical item to work on later, Julien. Since we can’t see the beams of the silver ship, we have to find a means of detecting them. Otherwise, our fighters don’t stand a chance. Okay, so what’s the big picture? How do we accommodate this strategy?”
“Two more fighters will require an additional thirty-four days to build and test. The design and manufacture of the munitions, if expedited, will occupy all TS facilities for twenty-eight days with no production for New Terran use. The greatest challenge is that we must add an additional bay to the Rêveur.”
The holo-vid displayed a translucent Rêveur, allowing Alex to see the ship’s bulkhead frames. Julien highlighted a section of port side compartments and cut them from the ship. Then
he cloned the starboard landing bay, rotated it to form a port landing bay, and slotted it into the opening.
“Two bays will also give us additional protection in the event of a strike on one of the bays. Two fighters will reside in each bay. You will notice I’ve removed the shuttles to make room for each bay’s missile silos and reaction mass tanks for our fighters.”
Alex walked around the model, placing his hand into the view, spreading his fingers to enlarge it, as he had learned to do. “Okay, I like it and the time delay is something I can sell to our people.” Alex heard his words our people to describe the Méridiens and wondered when he might make that slip in front of New Terrans. “But we have to keep one shuttle. It’s a necessity.”
“And I’ve considered that, Captain. I was wondering what your intentions were for your ship after the retrofit.”
“Well, I anticipated Joaquin would complete the retrofit after we left. Due to its Méridien technology, I can’t sell it, except to the government. If they want it for Barren Island, I’ll have them put the proceeds in my account, and if we don’t…um, return, my parents will get the creds.”
“Please view this image, Captain.” He played a historic vid on the central screen. A huge-winged craft was accelerating down a runway for liftoff. Its four engines hung below extensive wings located amidships. Attached to its dorsal hull, centrally located, was a smaller craft. “They called this piggy-backing,” Julien explained. “Although the reference to a Terran animal consumed for protein escapes me.”
“And you’re thinking of piggy-backing the Outward Bound on the Rêveur?”
“Yes, Captain, although I haven’t solved the problem of the added mass reducing our maneuverability by over twenty-two percent.”
“Let me think on that. But the first problem is that my ship is not a shuttle.”
“No, Captain, it’s not. Here’s my solution,” and the holo-vid changed view. “With the circumstances of our return to Méridien unknown, it seems to me more prudent to have a shuttle capable of greater range and passenger capacity. And some offensive capability would not be unwarranted.”
