Jim 88

by J G Clements

  There were probably questions about this, but it was clear that Jack was not interested in trying to explain any further. Instead, he got right to the main point.

  “There is a war on in the galaxy, and for all we know, maybe in other galaxies. And it isn’t about competing over resources or living space. It seems just to be a war of genocide. The genocide is being committed against beings who live on ball worlds, like Earth.” He let that sink in. “They destroy the ball worlds by launching large meteors, usually from outside Oort clouds. So meteors get launched from a light year or two away, accelerated to very high speeds and aimed at planets. By the time the meteors penetrate into the inner system, they can be too close to deflect or destroy.” Taking a sip of coffee, he watched everyone while they absorbed those facts. “Remember that a meteor destroyed the dinosaurs. Imagine one moving much faster, and the damage would have been worse.”

  “But there are methods of trying to protect ball worlds. For starters, we plan to put up a large number of picket ships, and place them far enough from Earth to give us some time to react to them.” He knew what he was about to say next was going to be the hardest concept for them to absorb.

  “Most of you are thinking in terms of what, hundreds, of ships? You need to change your thinking. Space is large, and very empty. We have over a million ships ready to take over picket duties and to be manned by humans. Besides protecting Earth, and a couple of food worlds we have ready for you, we’ll also be protecting Raftcities and Foodcities. Both of these types of facilities will be located almost anywhere that folks want to put them. Probably the further from Earth, the better.” It wasn’t clear if anyone was still listening, especially after the million ship remark, so he backtracked.

  “The Crekie and six other races are at the forefront of this war. Earth with its population will probably be the eighth race to play a significant part. Each race has their own name, but I’ll be honest with you. Their names are unpronounceable, so we pretty much have slang names for each other. Before anyone here gets offended, their name for us would translate as ‘bags of water with sticks’.” There was some laughter from everyone so he plunged ahead. “Besides the Crekie, the three races you are likely to run into are the Beetles, the Ants, and the Squids. I’ll get you their formal names later, but they are fine with us using these.”

  Another sip and he continued. “I’ve never met any of the Squids, but they have a remarkable ability. They never lived on a planet with an atmosphere and are very comfortable in space. They are not good at traveling,” he didn’t point out cause they had really odd food requirements. “but are remarkable ship builders. There are entire solar systems that they have stripped to build ships. Millions of ships sit unmanned and ready for deployment, only waiting for crews. “ Warming up, he couldn’t help but toss in some details on how the squids do it. “They don’t weld a bunch of plates together the way this ship was built. What they do is heat a ball of metal to its melting point, then spin it to form a disc, then a cone. As I understand it, that’s how they make a lot of their ship parts, too. To them, a ship consists of a shell, the implosion drive, a fusion drive, and a living quarters. They custom make living quarters for each race and can also make combined habitats when ants, beetles, and hopefully humans, want to travel together.”

  Jack could tell they were having trouble with the idea of millions of ships, manufactured but sitting unmanned. He had been given an answer to that. “I know a lot you are having difficulty with the idea of so many ships being built. But let me help you there. Last year Earth manufactured over sixty-five million automobiles. And to the Squids, Earth cars have too many moving parts and are needlessly complex. I’ve been told that one of the reasons they are interested in helping Earth is because of that kind of industrial ability.” There was some murmuring as they digested that, so he plunged on.

  “The real take away here is that the number of ships are not the problem. Sentient minds that can operate them are what’s in short supply. If we want to put a picket around Earth, we’d like the picket to form an imaginary sphere as far out as Jupiter. That’s a sphere with a diameter of 100 million miles. If we assign each picket an area of 2 million by 2 million miles, we need about 1million ships.” Those words sat there, and everyone was in stunned silence. “If the meteor is coming in at even 10% the speed of light, we only have minutes to act once a picket detects it.”

  Phil, one of the fleet physicists was probably one of the few to follow this math. “But how do you deflect it in time?”

  “Inside the picket sphere, we have beam-ships. Beamers are big, and can shoot an enormous amount of energy within ten seconds of actuation. We station a lot of these around, hoping at least five ships can get a clear shot off. All it takes is a few seconds notice before they are ready to fire. The meteors are usually rocks, rocks sheathed in ice, and occasionally with a guidance system installed. We don’t know, but we think it’s a rail-gun type technology that accelerates them to such high velocities.”

  “Supply ships tend to circulate among the pickets, and change crews if it’s needed. The Crekie, however, are offering the ships free and clear to anyone who captains one for four years.” The buzz from the crowd made it clear that everyone saw the implications of that. Millions of humans owning space ships. Yeah, everyone liked that. What Jack didn’t tell them was that they could have smaller ‘family’ sized ships right now.

  Someone stood up, and it took a second for Jack to recognize him. It was Jim-88. He wasn’t rafted to the Earthfleet, but had loitered around since his radio broadcast a few days ago. Jack had been briefed that the Crekie were very interested in him, and he had been given specific orders to watch him and to cooperate with anything Jim suggested. Before he could say anything, it was Jack who offered courtesy “Yes Jim?” No one caught the fact that Jack already knew his name.

  “Sir, I understand the picket line approach but that’s entirely a defensive posture. What is the strategy for offense?” Twenty-eight heads turned from listening to Jim’s questions to looking at Jack, waiting for a reply. From Sue’s viewpoint, it looked liked Jack had a bad taste in his mouth.

  Hesitating to answer, Jack took a moment to sweep his gaze around the room, brushing against every person’s look of enquiry. When he thought it was time, he used his command presence. “We don’t have one. Or at least, we don’t have one that works.” He had expected either pandemonium or dead silence. Silence won, and it was Jim that seemed to hold the attention of everyone, some sort of de facto speaker for the fleet.

  “Sir, you said you were a submarine commander? That was not a defensive assignment, was it? In fact, you would be a picket’s worst nightmare?” That brought a laugh from several of the crew, and brought Jack an enormous amount of respect for his tactical thinking. Jack knew exactly where Jim was taking this conversation, and he now understood the Crekie’s interest in him. Jim would always be a couple steps ahead of everyone else.

  “Correct. A lot of you think of space warfare as dogfighting. High speed combat and close in?” A number of them were nodding, but Jim seemed to be shaking his head. Good for him. “Space combat is about to become more like submarine combat. Slow, stealthy, quiet. Whoever sees the other guy first is likely to live.” Another sip of his coffee, just to interject a hesitation into this briefing. “There have been almost no successful campaigns against the Swarm. We know little about them, we’ll most likely never capture one alive, and even their equipment doesn’t survive capturing. In fact, in the couple hundred years the Crekie have been fighting them, they have never found a group of more than a thousand of the Swarm. No home cities, no centers of commerce, nothing. They have been impossible to find. But for the last two centuries they have always found us.” Again, he found himself hesitating waiting to spring his big news.

  “It is my intent to change all that. Instead of the large, well manned fleet ships that have been used, we are looking at learning to be more stealthy. We are learning how to lurk, hoping to surpri
se the Swarm for a change.”

  There was some chatter now. Jack was pleased. Over two dozen very bright minds were trying to formulate strategies, and tactics. This group was bright enough to know the difference between them, too. He let them go, sort of an unannounced break. And while almost everyone was caucusing with someone else, Jim remained silent. Jack wanted his insight, but didn’t want to tip-off his interest in him. “Let’s take a twenty minute break, and I’ll fill you in on more details then.” Not waiting for consent, Jack strode over to get fresh coffee before the line formed, then pretending to wonder around, drifted over to Jim.

  No hesitation on Jim’s part. “Jack, have the population levels of the other races steadied, or are they going down?” Jack knew that was something that the other races would be just as happy to keep secret, but Jim’s logic had already jumped about six steps ahead of everyone else.

  “Barely. None of them have returned to the population levels they were at before they were attacked. Even the Ants, who didn’t lose their ball world have not expanded their numbers. The Squids are in decline mostly due to…food difficulties…and the Beetles are less than half of what they were. They were hit less than two hundred years ago. They don’t seem to do well in raftcities. They seem to like ground under their feet, and an ultraviolet-laced sky above them.” Jack smiled at this, hoping to break some of the thoughts that Jim was putting together. If Jim was sidetracked, he hid it well.

  “So you stopped the tactics they were using, and asked them to build enormous quantities of picket ships, and I imagine, some sort of”, it was Jim’s turned to smile, “stealthy long-range ships?” Jack nodded. Exactly so. After another second Jim continued, “I’m not cut out to Captain a picket ship. I think I’d be more the stealthy type. But giving the picket ships to their Captains. That’s brilliant. The human race might do very well on a thousand planets or raftcities, making it all the harder to wipe us out.”

  “If we can get enough of you off this planet and scattered around space, yes.”

  “Food is the problem?”

  “Possibly. Food worlds are nice if you have a population nearby. We can produce a lot of synthetic stuff, stuff that had nothing to do with growing under a sun, but do you really want to never see fresh produce or beef again?”

  Jim sort of grimaced. “What do you think we’ve been eating up here? Does anyone in the fleet look over-weight to you? And it’s been tough enough that even the romantic liaisons up here are provisional. No one wants to commit, not knowing if we’d make it much less trying to raise a child here.” Jim considered his own comments. “I can’t imagine raising a child up here, one that would never run in a field or lay out under a blue sky. I like space. As a place to work. But it’s not home to me.”

  To be an effective military commander, you had to be optimistic, forward looking and Jack was no exception. “All the better to protect Earth while we take the battle to them.”

  The meeting reconvened, and while Jack filled everyone in on the background and history of fleet efforts, he noticed that Jim’s mind was somewhere far away.

  Chapter 8. On Board the Oddjob.

  Ceres Report: The water vapor I produced when the reactor was down still concerns me. It condensed on all the surfaces which means all the wiring it wet. Fortunately, when the panels had been built, I had them painted with a good layer of shellac. Hopefully, it’ll help keep the water from corroding the electricals. If it doesn’t, this will be a short trip to nowhere.

  Over the next several days, Oddjob was home to everyone from the McKinsie Fleet. Jack gave them the run of the ship and the crew was instructed to show and teach them everything they wanted to know. The McKinsie fleet Captains didn’t yet realize it, but they were doing a hands-on aptitude test and a personality profile. One of Jack’s tasks was to see where they would all fit in. Some might be a big help in the Picket ships, some on the Beamers, and hopefully, some on Jack’s new mission to take the war to the Swarm.

  Several of the McKinsie fleet were on the Bridge, looking at the equipment. Jack noticed that Sue and Jennifer seemed to use each other to figure stuff out, bounce ideas off of each other. While he was watching the two girls, Jim got his attention and asked Jack if he’d like to take an excursion on his own ship, as a courtesy. No one pointed out that Jack could just as easily have brought Jim’s ship into his cargo bay, intact. Instead, to the surprise of everyone, Jack accepted. Then, getting out of his command chair and standing next to it, he saluted Sue. Announcing loud enough for the entire Bridge crew to hear, “Captain, you have the Bridge.” Holding the salute, he waited.

  Sue’s jaw momentarily hit the floor. But not to be out maneuvered, she returned the salute, “I have the Bridge. Aye.” Though all the McKinsie fleet seemed stunned, the crew of the Oddjob seemed very comfortable. Though smugness could be hard to read on their faces.

  As the two men prepared to leave, Jim asked if a couple of the McKinsie fleet members could give them a hand suiting up. It had the intended effect of removing all the McKinsie fleet crew from the Bridge, leaving Sue to struggle with her new position. But as Jennifer tried to file past the command chair, Sue as surreptitiously as possible, grabbed her wrist to get her to stay. Jack, waiting behind to be the last one off the Bridge caught Jennifer’s eye. He gave her a broad smile and a wink, then closed the bulkhead door.

  Over the next several hours, a crewman stood next to Sue, and in a quiet voice explained most of the equipment. Jennifer realized that it was the same crewman who made the humorous comments when they had first boarded. But in this case, he was all business.

  The two men, crowded on Jim’s ship, managed to maneuver away from the Fleet without hitting anything. “When we brought the iceberg in, we figured we fixed the fuel problem. We now have plenty of water for steaming around.” Turning to look at Jack, “Where do you want to go? We can rise up to a higher orbit, say to synchronous altitude? Anyplace in particular you want to hover over? Jack was at the controls, with Jim standing next to him to show him how things worked. Jim was embarrassed at how primitive his systems were, but Jack seemed totally impressed. “Captain..Jim…you can fix anything that breaks here, all by yourself?”

  “Pretty much so. The design criteria was simple first, simple second, then clever third. In this case, we’ll pump water through the reactor, making it super-heated steam, then plasma. The hotter it is the more velocity and the more thrust we have. When the reactor isn’t needed for thrust, we use electrolysis to split the water into hydrogen and oxygen. Then you have a conventional chemical rocket. The non-nuclear fleet ships use that for propulsion so we try to make as much as possible. The iceberg is going to make a lot of our travel a whole lot easier.” He paused to think this over. “You know, if we planned it, we could leave in a few days for the moon. Any interest?”

  “I’d like that, I really would. But I think in a few days we are leaving for someplace else.” He waited, gathering his thoughts. “Jim, I need some advice. I don’t want to insult you or the McKinsie fleet, but do you think I could get you all to…temporarily….abandon your fleet and ride along with the Oddjob and few other ships later this week? I could use your help, all of you, and I really want you to see something.” He turned around to make eye-contact. “Unpleasant things. But stuff you need to know to make good decisions.”

  Jim understood the seriousness of this. “Gonna let Sue drive?”

  “Actually, I would. Except if I had to over-ride her decisions, it would embarrass her. So, she is strictly second in command this trip. I drive.” Then as an afterthought. “Besides, we might run into some Swarmers. And I’d rather an experienced pilot in the chair if that happens.”

  Jim looked at him for a second, then had to ask. “That stunt you pulled…giving Sue command in your absence. What was that all about?”

  “No stunt. I think Sue can handle it. Wonder why I don’t really have a second-in-command?” Jack could see on Jim’s face that he had already arrived at an answer…and a correct
one at that.

  “We’re so desperate for leadership that a second-in-command gets promoted pretty quick to their own ship, right?”

  Jack didn’t say a thing, just a nod to Jim. But he was again amazed at Jim’s deductive reasoning.

  They fell silent after that, seemingly by mutual agreement. Within the hour, they reached the synchronous orbit, and Jim turned on the bright flood lights that substituted for radar on his ship.“Radar was too complex, so only a half-dozen of the ships have it. Instead, we use a bright light that we can flash like a strobe. Then we keep comparing images, and look for anything that is there when the light is on but not when it’s off. Just subtract one electronic image from the other. Anything left is close enough for the searchlight to illuminate it. I’d say an effective range of twenty miles, maybe much further if we had better optics and some other improvements. It won’t give us much notice of a fast bogey, but nothing slow is going to bump into us.”

  “Can you filter wavelengths? Go monochromatic?”

  “Don’t have the stuff. If we filter the light, we just subtract a lot of the beam intensity. If we had some massive LED array that only did a single wavelength, you’d be all set.” Jim hesitated a second, then used this discussion to press a point. “You said at the briefing that each picket ship needs to watch a two-million by two-million square mile window for incoming meteors, right?” Not waiting for an answer, he went on. “Even if an incoming meteor was one square mile in size, you’d need a camera with over four TRILLION mega pixels, wouldn’t you? And if the meteor was much smaller, you’d need even higher resolution. Can you get that kind of optics?”