by Ian Miller
"I'm not sure where the relevance lies," Natasha said slowly.
"Suppose there was a spy who told the enemy that Men-Kheper-Re would use the central pass?"
"He would congregate his troops there," Natasha replied, "but I still don't see the relevance. Why tell the enemy where we are? That only attracts them?"
"That's the point," Gaius replied. "In my particular example it would be a bad idea, because it is better to have no opposition for a quick attack on the home base. But suppose the enemy viewed our strategy in that light? They can't afford a quick strike on their home base."
"But we don't have the means to make it," Natasha protested.
"Yes, but after the attack on Miranda, and the orchestrated misinformation program, they don't know that. What they do know is that we have already raided their base, and we shouldn't have been able to do that. Marisa has given them details of our new motors, and I can tell you right now that they won't have the skill to analyse their performance. They're a battle group, not a research institute. In any case, even if they can analyse, they have insufficient specific detail. All they know is that here is something that is more or less possible, but their computers can't help them with the detailed performance because they don't have enough information, and they won't have the physics skills to go into uncharted waters." He paused, and added with a smile, "It's a real advantage that you went down a really odd route."
"I suppose," Natasha said softly, refusing to take the bait, "but of course they'll suspect a trap."
"But they can't be sure! When we left Miranda, their detectors would have observed the Earth ships come and collect the troops. The same Earth ships which left Earth such a short time before would have had to travel at near relativistic speed to get there."
"They might deduce that Ulsian technology might have given them false information," Natasha warned.
"So they might," Gaius said, "but remember they're only soldiers. No, I think they'll have to at least consider their intelligence is correct, and consider minimizing the chances of a lightning strike on their home base while their forces are away. Also, hopefully they'll buy into the chance to get more tantalum, because that would certainly help repair some of the functionality on their ships. "
"I still don't see why they don't ignore us and hit our home planet."
"Perhaps, but while they can do damage, they will also slowly lose ships. They have no manufacturing capacity, so either they remove our ability to fight, or they should negotiate. To remove our ability to fight, they also have to destroy the Ulsian ships, and either retake or destroy our two M'starn vessels. The odds are never going to be better, so they will come, and as soon as they can. Marisa's given the enemy the information on what we are going to do, and everything that they can verify is verifiable. If they can defeat us at that asteroid, Earth will be forced to sue for peace, and this will be the only time they will get all this information. Oddly enough, this is the only battle we can win, but it is also one of the very few that they can win that will lead to an effective victorious conclusion for them. Most of the other options lead to unending attrition and destruction. So they'll turn up, because they can't afford not to if Marisa's information is genuine."
"I hope you're right," Natasha said, "because if they don't believe it . . ."
"Even if they suspect it, what's their alternative? They can bypass us, kill a few million more, lose the odd ship, but that resolves nothing. Their problem is they can't manufacture, they can't replace their losses, and they can't win until our forces are defeated. To win, they have to defeat our massed forces, and remove them from the field. They're more likely to do that the fewer the ships they lose first, so they will not want to fight diversionary battles. They either have to resolve this issue with us by facing us in the field, or they have to go somewhere else."
"Could we talk them into going somewhere else?" Natasha asked slowly.
"I don't know," Gaius shrugged. "Their crews are all soldiers. They don't have engineers, technologists, etc. Think of the average battle crews you will send up. Suppose they were transported to a new planet, without any life form. Could they build a new civilization from scratch? I doubt it. No, the attractiveness of here is the existing infrastructure, and this is about the most advanced they can hope to meet with their strength and prevail. There's a certain inevitability to their staying and fighting. Their choice is not very attractive."
"Is there no negotiating option?"
"No!" Gaius almost shouted, then he added more calmly, "Not now! Look, I know this sounds bloodthirsty, but right now is the one time we can't open that option. This plan can only work once, because it depends critically on their believing we think we can win if they give us an opening. Since young Marisa has started the battle campaign, our entering negotiations right now would convince them we have no ability to attack Miranda again, in which case they can ignore our forces and make raids that will force our forces to retreat and defend Earth, or watch billions die. If they do that, we lose. You see that?"
"I guess so."
"You don't seem very convinced."
"Oh, I agree," Natasha said flatly. "It's just that all our efforts over the past hundred years have been devoted to convincing everybody that there's always a better way than fighting."
"That is quite true, but only as long as the strongest party recognizes the truth of it."
"It does seem such a pity it's come to this," Natasha sighed, then she added more firmly, "but it has, and that's that. Perhaps we should get around to discussing the allocation of commands?"
"Yes, we should," Gaius agreed. "I think I have a formula you will agree with."
"Yes?"
"I'm proposing the squadron commands should go to the young trainees, because the professionals simply haven't shone in training. The key disguised squadron goes to Van Lugt."
"Agreed."
"We know about Marisa. The fixed positions go to the Brazilians for the obvious security and language reasons."
"Agreed. There's not much choice there, because only the Brazilians are trained in the use of rail guns, and hopefully the M'starn are not fluent in their languages."
"I'm afraid that's the basis of this troop deployment," Gaius shrugged. "Just about everything's allocated on the basis of no other choice. As a further example, I wish to put Lansfeld in command of the first M'starn ship, and Winters in charge of the second. They're the only ones left who've flown solo commands in them. What do you think?"
"It's all right, I suppose," Natasha said, sourly.
"What would you have rather had me do?"
"Well, to be honest, I thought you might have given me one of those ships," Natasha said. "I'm still a better pilot than either of them, and I've also flown solo . . ."
"Oh," Gaius replied with a smile. "So that's why you've been upset. You thought I was going to put you in some sort of protective cocoon?"
"It did cross my mind," Natasha said quietly. "What with Vipsania, your sister –"
"To be honest," Gaius smiled wanly, "you cannot imagine what this's doing to me. However, there is something that only you can do, so whatever I think is irrelevant. Come with me. We're about to dock, and I'll show you what I have in mind."
Natasha was puzzled, but she followed him, and found herself going through an Ulsian docking bay.
"Come to the bridge," Gaius said, and led the way.
She followed, and when they arrived, she saw a bland female figure before her.
"Hello, Natasha," the figure said. "I am your Companion. When you are ready, please name me. When you wish, visualize an appearance that pleases you, and that shall be my appearance. If I am too short, or too big, that can be corrected."
"Gaius, I . . ." she started, in a voice laden with disappointment.
"I don't understand," Gaius shook his head in dismay. "I thought this would be the best I could give you."
"Natasha," the Companion interrupted, "you do know where you are?"
"This is
the Actium isn't it?"
"No," Gaius said, and suddenly a smile crossed his face. "Oh, I see. You thought I was wanting you to co-pilot?"
"Then where . . ?"
"This ship also needs a name," the Companion said. "Once it was the Livia ."
"The Livia!" Natasha exclaimed in astonishment, "but how could it be repaired so quickly?"
"All the pieces of the ship were present, and the essentials, such as the computers, the drives, and the phasing systems were unharmed," Gaius replied. "Since the memory banks still contained the phase matrix for the entire ship, the inertial fields could carry out most of the repairs. Paradoxically, although the structural damage seemed very severe, because all the bits were there that was easy to repair. Of course, all Vipsania's decorations were dephased. In principle, as far as the parts that you can get to are concerned, this is a new ship."
"It shall remain the Livia," Natasha said quietly, "but you," she added, turning to the Companion, "I shall name you Ekaterina, but I'll call you Katya."
"Nothing like confusing your poor Companion from the very beginning," Gaius grinned.
"You should know," the Companion retorted, "you've done it often enough," then she turned to Natasha and smiled, "I am Ekaterina, but you will call me Katya. Come with me, Natasha. I must teach you all about your ship. You have much to learn, and not much time to learn it in."
Chapter 12
Seek and ye shall find. And to think once upon a time . . . only last year! . . . well, I sought and I found, and look at the bloody mess I've got myself into! Had anyone told me this would happen, I wonder whether I would have torn up those photos?
"Fellow soldiers," Gaius began, "welcome! I now wish to describe to you our battle plans. Very shortly we can expect the enemy to attack. Unfortunately they choose the time; hopefully, we have chosen the place." He paused, to study the effect of his words.
They're almost eager! Clearly they don't understand the problem. And that's rich coming from me. I'm the youngest here, but apart from Gaius, I'm the most experienced! I wonder how many of them know anything about Roman battle tactics?
Gaius then launched into a detailed deployment, listing who was in each squad, and what position they should take up initially. Natasha was on the stand, seated behind him. Once, she would have been angry that it was him, not her, giving this speech, setting these plans, but she had finally come to realize that Gaius indeed was the better commander. She had mentioned it to him over the meal the previous night, and he had laughed, stroked her nose, and pointed out that the only reason he was better was that he had had far more experience. "If it annoys you," he had said wistfully, "remember this. Shortly this situation will be resolved. Then you will have all the experience, and I shall be what the troops now call me, an irrelevant fossil. Let me have my last moment of use."
They still haven't cottoned on. The Roman army worked on the principle that the least experienced took the initial brunt, with the more experienced coming in to force the victory, or to salvage what they could. Not that there's much to salvage from this. There won't be any more chances. It's these guys who take the initial thrusts, and it's these guys who'll take the bulk of the casualties. Not that Gaius has any option. If there's to be a victory, these men, together with Marisa's men, have to destroy at least half of the enemy fleet. Nothing less would suffice.
Gaius went on to explain why the battle had to be fought there; the Earth ships were too slow to take the battle to the enemy, so the battle had to be brought to them. By selecting the place, they could, in effect, set up a fixed ambush, and put to use the one advantage the Earth had, a greater manufacturing base. "The M'starn have the technology edge," Gaius said, "so we must make the best use of our economic edge."
"Sir," one young pilot stood up. "It's all very well saying . . ." Some guards moved to interrupt the man, but to Natasha's surprise, Gaius signalled them away, and indicated the pilot should be allowed to say his piece. The young man went on, "It's all very well saying they have a technology advantage, but if we're outclassed in weapons, in speed, why can't we have your technology?" There were murmurings of support.
He thinks he's got an answer to that, obviously.
"I knew this would come sooner or later," Gaius nodded. "The short answer is, even if you were told how to do it, it wouldn't do you any good. Your manufacturing capacity just isn't up to it. For motive power, you want the Ulsian main drives? Well, let me indicate to you how they work. I can tell you a little, because you know a bit about quarks."
Hello! Things are getting interesting. The question is, how much does Gaius know himself? My guess is, very little in detail, but maybe enough to give away the odd clue to something!
"But before I do, stop and think. Suppose you were all placed on a desert island on which some primitive war was going on. You decide that air power would put an end to this fight, and you all know something about the necessary physics and chemistry. Now, do you really think you could teach them enough to build, say, a Spitfire? Or even a Sopwith Camel? A tank? A howitzer and shells?"
A bow and arrow would strain the mechanical skills of some of these turkeys!
Gaius paused, and looked around the stunned faces. "Well, I'm in the same position. I may be the most educated Roman soldier ever, but I'm still just a soldier. I'm not a space ship manufacturer, and the same goes for every local Ulsian. Quite frankly, even if we wanted to show you, there's no way you could get such ships built. Now, I can see you don't believe me, so I'll try to give you some idea of the problem.
"Consider the quark/gluon association as a bag of energy, without an acceptable charge for an isolated entity. Now, a proton, say, is made up of three quarks, each having wave functions with particular coordinate constraints. When the protons and neutrons form nuclei, availability and selection rules determine which quarks are associated. As an example, the up quark rules make beryllium eight unstable and carbon twelve stable.
"To make this drive work, strings must be oriented in the desired direction. For you, what you call the Uncertainty Principle will probably prevent you getting this far, and you need to make fundamental progress in understanding this before you can glimpse what to do."
Come off it, mate! Even if you could, the sheer effort of orienting every quark would mean you'd never get any reasonable power level, always assuming this whatever it is could be oriented anyway. Always assuming the quark is actually a thing in the normal sense. That's a bloody live and kicking prawn!
"Then, by means outside your physics,
and yours too, sport!
"the end of the quark string is effectively cut, allowing the energy constrained to escape, which, of course, also means that all the matter associated with that string is also annihilated. Of course, this does not leave an acceptable entity behind,
Or an acceptable story right now!
"and so within the time of uncertainty for the new entities' existence, they must be rotated to get a fresh quark string aligned with the same direction, that string cut, and the process repeated and repeated until an acceptable entity remains. If this is not done, the unstable entity will decompose anyway, but not to give a useful momentum vector. Indeed, if the precision required is missed in any significant way, the motors annihilate the ship.
Actually, mate, it's easy! The nuclei have spin, and you have a one-dimensional unidirectional inertial field. As soon as the wretched quark ends hit the field, one end gets teleported away! Ha! Ha! Ha! What an idea! I bet Gaius has no idea how the bloody thing works. I'll put that to him, and watch his face! After the battle, of course. Otherwise he'd probably promote me to the ultra suicide squad!
"Now, given it takes Ulsian engineers, after millions of years experience, and through using the most sophisticated robot cascades imaginable, eighteen months to build such a motor to the required tolerances, and one in four still does not pass the quality assurance programme, and remember that a failure means the total annihilation of the ship's crew, would you have really want
ed me to have offered such a motor for your engineers to build?"
That part is almost certainly true, and the answer is an unequivocal no! With some of the shoddy Corporate manufacturing, I'll be very pleased to stay in my M'starn ship, thank you.
Gaius smiled slightly as he saw the stunned expressions.
Pleased with himself, isn't he? Wonder how pleased he'll be with my loony scheme? Actually, when you come to think of it, it's not so outright loony after all. What do you need? A focussed coherent inertial field. But we know that's done. Break the constraint on an axis, and half the matter jets out the back. Reflect the first half, and pow! You don't align anything; you wait for whatever it is you need to come into alignment, then it happens automatically. Like a standing wave. If you can use half the field, you've got something happening to half the stuff!
"But there's more than that, though. Suppose we opened the door, and allowed Ulsian technology to Earth, what do you think would happen? Never again would an Earth engineer work, your scientists would become redundant, and less obviously, your entertainment industries and general culture would collapse. When your art and literature collapses, you feel inferior, and before long, you are inferior. You have drifted into a form of slavery far more pernicious than any other, the self-imposed slavery.
"The real question is, why are you fighting this war? It is possible you could be better off to surrender than to follow the self-imposed path to total degradation. The M'starn would impose physical slavery, and kill large numbers of you, but the rest would retain hope; they would struggle for their liberation. With the self-imposed slavery, there is no way out, there is nothing to struggle against, for the enemy is within you and he is the worst of all enemies.
"Now, consider the alternative. You fight and win with your own equipment. Your scientists and engineers can celebrate in this victory, knowing it was partly theirs. Your writers will wax over these times for years, your culture will have pride. That will be your real victory. And you can do it; your weapons can destroy the enemy, and with the new drive you have developed, you can manoeuvre successfully, at least in the set piece battles that we are trying to fight. So why seek something you don't need, which will poison your future forever and ever, irretrievably?
