by Ian Miller
Waiting for an asteroid to cool was boring. The heat had to be radiated away. Objects in space may be cold, but a vacuum has no heat capacity; there was no fluid to sweep away heat. Oh, for a large hose! Oh, for some water to put in a large hose!
The simple fact was he could do nothing to help. He had to wait, and he should find something to do. The crew was celebrating in the recreation area, but with Marisa down there he could not celebrate. She had to survive! After all they had been through, she simply could not die buried in molten rock. That would be so pointless. Just like the attack; the one ship that refused to surrender, the one commander who preferred to die and wreak this last blow; it had to be Marisa who suffered. The irony was the only persons on whom the blow really struck home were perhaps two of the four who were really responsible for the victory. Of course, if she did survive, he still had no idea how she would react to him.
It had never occurred to him to bring a book into battle, but that was just what he needed. A good book. Even a bad book! He began to pace around the flight deck. He knew the controls, he was totally familiar with the furniture, there was nothing of interest. Or was there? There was a panel to the rear of the controls on the starboard side; the same space on the port side was a storage area for personal effects. Harry examined the panel. In the end, he had to admit that a panel is a panel, and as panels went, this was boring. In frustration, he gave it a thump.
The panel swivelled, revealing that it was the cover to a small cupboard. Inside the cupboard were books, written in M'starn. Just what Harry needed! Not only that, they were boring. Probably service manuals. Suddenly Harry became extraordinarily excited. He had their service manuals! He began to thumb furiously through their contents pages; with the translator, he could read them! Then he saw a chapter he recognized; the inertial equivalence unit. He turned to the chapter. Since the translator now decided not to translate, it was unreadable, but there were some diagrams: wiring diagrams, diagrams of field guides, power requirements. He stared at the diagrams. Over the previous weeks he had translated as much of the technical characteristics of the ship that the translator would permit, so he was beginning to come to grips with quite a few technical terms. By deliberately fouling the heating system, he had learned their electrical terms, and he had similarly acquired knowledge of the mechanical terms of M'starn physics, by probing the translator with orbital questions. He would sit down and try to work out as much as he could.
The first question was to focus on what seemed to be the most accessible starting point. What could those particular coils, in that configuration possibly do? He knew enough of the M'starn writing to know their mathematical and physical symbols, so he could work out what went into the coils. What could come out? What were the field equations. That he could answer. He grabbed some paper, and began writing furiously. The answer made no sense. He entered from another position, and that made no sense. Another approach was needed.
What came out? Something along a strange looking cable that went to . . . To something in another manual! That was easily solved, since he had the M'starn name, and sure enough, there was a manual with that name, and a fairly thin one. He opened it, and found it was a diagrammatic representation of the ship, with a number of long metal objects running the length of the ship, above and below. These would be wave-guides, or maybe sources of a bipolar field. That he could tell. His thermos flask had no handle, and it would make a fair cylinder. All he needed was an inclined plane, which meant something long and flat, and something to support one end. He would roll the cylinder and measure the local accelerating factor in different parts of the ship. He knew there was a different acceleration at the edges of the ship, and this would give him the form of the function. Wave interference would give clearly different results from a field, because he could get some null spots. Twenty minutes later he was elated. He had clearly detected effects of wave interference. They were not large, but they were unambiguous. Back to the first manual!
He then decided to examine the testing procedures that measured energy flows. Wherever there were inexplicable energy losses was where something else was happening. Four hours later, every scrap of paper he could find was covered in tiny writing; everything was correct, large energy losses were found, but it all meant nothing.
It was then that Harry became aware of the radio. There was a signal from a somewhat distressed Marisa. To his horror, he realized that her shuttle was adjacent to his ship, and she was desperately trying to arouse attention so she could dock and come aboard.
He rushed to the docking bay and activated the controls. The small vessel was secured and the air lock was depressurized. He waited and waited, then the lights indicated that the outer door was closed. He pressurized the lock, then opened the inner door. As the frail looking figure stepped through Harry's heart suddenly started pounding. He was about to say something, then he realized she could not hear through the pressure suit. He closed the inner door and locked it, then he began to help Marisa out of her suit.
As she stepped free, he suddenly found himself tongue-tied. He tried to smile, but he knew he was so apprehensive it was probably a silly expression. He opened his arms, and suddenly found himself in a deep embrace. Their lips met with a ferocity that changed the reasons for Harry's beating heart.
"Thank God you're alive," Harry said, as he finally withdrew his lips. "I thought for a while . . ."
"I was beginning to wonder if I'd come to the right place," Marisa admonished him. "What happened? Did you go to sleep?"
"I found something," Harry replied excitedly. "Come and have a look."
"What could be so important on . . ."
"Come and see."
A puzzled Marisa followed Harry to the flight deck, where Harry, with a flourish, showed her the book.
"How exciting!" Marisa muttered drily, as she flipped through the pages of M'starn writing. "On a par with the Athens telephone directory."
"Marisa!" Harry said, as he gripped her arm. "This is the service manual for the M'starn inertial equivalence unit."
"So what?" Marisa replied. "We have the whole ship. We can take the whole thing to bits, if you want to."
"I'll bet we haven't," Harry responded. "I'll bet anything you like the Ulsians will either give it back, or they'll keep it for themselves."
"But we captured it!"
"But only with Gaius' help. And Marcellus'. No, we won't be allowed anywhere near that unit, just as we haven't been allowed so far. The Ulsians take this technology leak business very seriously."
"So what are you doing?"
"I'm trying to get a clue as to how it works, before we have to give it back," Harry grinned.
"Does this tell you?"
"No," Harry replied glumly. "What it does is list the part numbers to replace a defective part with if something fails, and the tests to isolate what is defective."
"So you can't work it out."
"Well, it does define energy flows," Harry said, "because you have to do certain tests to make sure everything is working, or alternatively, to find out what's wrong. You have to remember, if one of these units goes wrong, the consequences could be disastrous. Suppose it overloaded, and gave a downward acceleration of one hundred g instead of one? Or if it put differential forces on the hull? The ship could tear itself to pieces."
"So?"
"The tests isolate bits of the circuits, and that gives clues as to what they're supposed to do."
"And this helps?"
"In principle, it should be enough. In practice, I'm getting nowhere."
"Then let's keep going. Harry, explain to me everything you've done so far."
"Wouldn't you rather go and celebrate?"
"Harry, if you want to do this I want to help, and I'd better do that now."
"Marisa, you're welcome to help later. Let's . . ."
"Harry, if you're right about the Ulsians wanting to defend against a technology leak, you realize they won't let you off this ship with these manuals?"
>
"I can derive most of them again," Harry said, "and I rather fancy I can hide some pieces of paper."
"Harry, I'll bet you anything you like they won't let you take more than trivial amounts of paper. Only the really key parts can be written down."
"Then what are you suggesting?" Harry asked slowly.
"If you can explain what everything means, I can memorize it."
"Is your memory totally photographic?"
"No, it isn't quite," Marisa shook her head. "I have a lot of difficulty if I can't understand any of it. There's got to be a pattern, or a reason."
"Then it may be beyond you anyway," Harry muttered. "I can barely understand what I've done, let alone the M'starn stuff."
"Then try," Marisa urged. "Amongst other things, it might clarify your own mind. And don't forget, I've got a reasonable knowledge of physics."
"You don't mind missing the celebrations?"
"Harry, we're about to make history," Marisa smiled.
"You're that confident we'll solve it?"
"No," Marisa smiled, and kissed him lightly on the cheek, "but I bet you anything you like this'll be the first time in the history of human warfare that on the evening following total victory two of the most important commanders sat down and tried to solve a significantly new problem in theoretical physics."
"Marisa," Harry started.
"Yes?"
"About what's happened between us. I know you think . . ." Harry paused, then blurted, "I'm sorry if I hurt you." He paused, then added, "I'm not very good at explaining . . ."
"I know that," Marisa added quietly.
"You see, I always did love you . . ."
"I know that too."
"It was just that . . ."
"Harry," Marisa implored, "you don't have to explain anything. Now, tell me where you've got. I think you're right, and I really want to help you. We don't have much time, and we're both fairly tired, so let's concentrate while we still can."
Chapter 15
Celebrations were muted amongst the rest of the Earth fleet. Too many had lost friends, or feared they had lost friends. Many clung to the hope their friends would have been ejected to safety. Others feared this could not have happened, because of the suddenness of the ship's destruction. So the crews assembled at their rendezvous points, acquired drinks, and sat before the large screens.
On these, news was flashed at periodic intervals. First, all the ships and crews that reported at other rendezvous centres were noted, and this news was generally greeted with relief, although even amongst the larger ships that reported under their own power, the death toll was significant. Then there were the reports from the disabled ships. These ships were gradually being recovered, but as long as the crews could maintain life support, they were left, preference being given, not unnaturally, to those ships with life support problems.
Then the cries of relief became more frequent, as the names of those collected in life support pods were listed. Then came the more distressing lists of those who had died. Gradually the lists rolled in, and the price of the victory became known. It was a very high price indeed.
* * *
"Behold the conquering hero!" Natasha said with mock pomposity, then seeing Gaius' expression, became more serious. "Congratulations," she added. "That was very well done, and I sincerely mean it."
"Thanks," Gaius smiled wanly.
"What's wrong?" Natasha asked. "I would have thought you'd be –"
"Nothing's wrong," Gaius smiled. "Just memories!" He paused, and after seeing her expression, he added, "I know what happened today, and yet neither you nor I saw it."
"I'm not sure I understand," Natasha shook her head slightly.
"A few years ago, or tens of centuries ago for you, there was the risk of being wounded, the risk of dying, and those risks were right in front. The battle was all about, you were involved, you got exhausted, you got hurt, you could see your enemy, and when it was all over, everybody felt so good to be alive. Today I sat in a metal box, peering at tiny moving lights. There's no feel, nothing, but apart from the lack of medical facilities from my time, the danger here is much greater. It's hard to feel the triumph when you haven't seen the tragedy. And there was tragedy, for we have lost a very large number of our own men and women, and we have thoroughly crushed the remains of a very proud race, yet we have seen nothing of them, hence we feel nothing for them. It is just that I have seen many times what has happened to defeated foes, and I feel for them."
"At least it's better them than us!"
"Indeed it is," Gaius nodded.
"Then let's celebrate our victory!" Natasha beamed.
"Why not," Gaius nodded. "It's been a good day for us. You realize, of course," he added, "that that was the easy bit?"
"There aren't more M'starn?" Natasha almost recoiled.
"Not that I know of," Gaius laughed at her expression. "No, what I meant was that winning a battle is relatively easy. All it involves is killing and destroying, and generally speaking, there is usually a winner. The hard bit is to make it all worthwhile. War breeds poisons, and if these are left to fester, they spread and may erupt again in another orgy of death and destruction. Or they may creep throughout, generating hate and fear, greed and oppression. To the victor lies the responsibility of eradicating this poison. If it is not done properly, the war was in vain."
"You're not leaking a little Ulsian philosophy?" Natasha taunted.
"Roman truths," Gaius said. "Hard lessons. Remember Carthage?"
"A little brutal, though."
"Amputation is better than letting the poison fester."
"Better still is to neutralize the poison and save the limb," Natasha added. "I would hope the M'starn can be –"
"I would caution you that it is the poison within that gives you the most acute problem."
"Thank you," Natasha groaned. "That was one problem I was hoping to leave until tomorrow."
"Of course," Gaius smiled, and lightly embraced her. "Today's problems suffice for today, so let's make ourselves comfortable, and have the necessary chores done for us."
The M'starn who had surrendered fell into two classes: some had their own motive power, some did not. Those who did not had to be found and assisted back to a group, to be towed by the other M'starn back to Miranda. In some cases minor repairs could be made to enable mobility, and only the robots on the Livia and the Actium were capable of carrying out this type of rescue work.
The repairs to be carried out were only temporary, to allow the fusion motors to work. Then the ships would return to Miranda, where, by agreement, there would be a formal surrender. For the ships that remained intact, most of the damage to the motors was relatively minor in concept, although extremely serious in effect. The large coils towards the rear of the motors were the most exposed, and these had been hit frequently. Fortunately the central drive units had generally remained undamaged. The coils could be repaired or replaced; where the main drive units were damaged, the ship was effectively useless.
There had been some debate amongst the earth fleet about the wisdom of letting the M'starn return to Miranda, but Gaius pointed out that a large detachment of Terran soldiers would accompany them, and in any case, whatever other faults they had, the M'starn had always honoured their word following a surrender. The terms they would receive now would never be bettered, and they could never rebuild these ships in a battle worthy condition, particularly as the weapons systems on each ship were to be destroyed.
Because this task was essentially mechanical, Ekaterina and Marcellus were given the responsibility for executing it. Natasha had been transported onto the Actium, where she and Gaius now lay on divans, eating roast hare and salad supplemented by a fine Hungarian red wine. On seeing the bottle, Gaius immediately relabelled it 'Pannonian' in memories of many allegedly previous fine wines, of which he steadfastly refused to produce evidence. The bottle was nearly completed when a message came through from Chiron. The fourth wall of the triclinium produ
ced a three dimensional image of Lucilla, standing with hand raised.
"Greetings Gaius, greetings, Natasha," the image spoke. "I apologize for overriding your command, Gaius, but in an exchange of certain victory for most probable defeat, I had no choice.
"You may be wondering what happened to me. I have been wondering a bit myself, but as far as I can make out, this is the sequence. This large M'starn ship came towards us at a substantial fraction of light speed, and was on a collision course, and this was seen by the Romulus –"
"Which means another Ulsian computer battle analysis," Gaius muttered, almost sourly.
". . . as an unusual opportunity to try out something once done several million years ago. Seemingly it was impossible to evade damage, so the Romulus invented this convoluted way of saving itself.
"What it did was first to put me in stasis, standing up, actually, and held by the inertial lock, then it set up some sort of standing wave between the oncoming M'starn, and itself, and somehow transferred the entire kinetic energy of the enemy ship, and all the energy that the intermediate ship was capable of making, into a momentary rift in space somewhere on the wave. The rift closed at some opportune point when the M'starn ship was at a node and the Romulus at an antinode, with the overall result that the entire energy was transferred into a pulse inside the M'starn ship, which disintegrated, while the energy on the wave axis was transferred to the Romulus as kinetic energy, and it headed off in some unknown direction at about a third light speed. Eventually sufficient control was attained to transfer most of this energy to a massive iceberg in space, and the ship floated around this planetoid.
"I was held in stasis while Antonia repaired the life support systems, and some of the other important ship's functions, so when I was awoken, we were almost nowhere. Fortunately, Earth is a tremendous source of leaked electromagnetic radiation, so it was fairly easy to work out how to get back, but doing it was not so easy. While on the way to Chiron, my sensors detected signals indicating the location of an imminent battle. I slowed down, and drifted on, and eventually found myself on a path that, fortuitously, was to be very effective.
