“Those ships will die, Admiral,” said Chan, shaking her head. “Don't try it.”
And we really don't know if any of this is going to work, thought Yu. The odds were in their favor, but it wasn't a sure thing. Not at all.
“When will you be starting up the generators, Director?” asked the Emperor.
Yeah, and right now we're not making wormholes. That shouldn't be a disaster, but more were always needed, and this operation would cost them a half dozen or more. If things started to burn out, many more.
“The crystal matrix batteries are filled to capacity, your Majesty. All hundred trillion tons of them. We can't shove any more power into them until we drain some out.”
“Just make sure you keep everything running smoothly, Dr. Yu,” said Sondra McCullom, eyes narrowing.
Yu could tell that the pressure was on her. Everyone expected her to come through. After all, she was the expert here. Except that no one was an expert when it came to this. They were taking theories based on what had been observed from some very advanced aliens, and extrapolating what they could do.
“Yes, please,” said Sean, a pleading look on his face. No matter what happened here, no matter who else felt responsible, Sean would take the entire blame on his shoulders. When he had nothing to do with proposing the process, or making it work. It was enough that he had given the final okay. He was that kind of man, and that made one Dr. Lucille Yu feel very comfortable that Sean was in charge.
“We're picking up graviton fluctuations from the star,” called out Bednarczyk over the com.
“Those are a very close match for what we have seen before from this Caca weapon,” said Chan, leaning forward in her chair as she studied the sine wave that appeared in a holo to her front.
“Close?” asked an alarmed Sean.
“This is a different kind of star that the ones we have observed in the past. More energetic. But in theory everything should work.”
“We're estimating detonation in forty-two minutes,” came the voice of one of the stellar scientists observing the situation.
“What happened to my hour and some odd minutes?” shouted Bednarczyk, near panic in her voice.
“Different star..” stammered the stellar scientist.
“I know,” shouted Bednarczyk. “More energetic.”
“Perhaps we should think about bringing Admiral Bednarczyk and as many of her ships as we can squeeze through the wormhole,” said Countess Kawasaki, her own tone one of near panic.
“And I'm not abandoning any of the ships or people I brought here,” replied Beata. “So don't ask.”
Lucille could see the indecision on the face of the Emperor. If he gave a direct order the admiral would have to obey. Wouldn't she? If not, he could have her relieved and arrested. But would he do that?
“It will work, your Majesty,” said Chan, turning her own version of a pleading look at the Emperor. “All of my experts agree that this is a high probability of success.”
“Only high probability, Admiral?” asked Sean, looking as if the weight of the Galaxy was resting on his shoulders.
“Very high probability,” said Chan, shaking her head. “Nothing is certain. But I would say ninety-five percent is very good.”
Unless you're looking down the barrel of that gun, thought Yu. She kept her silence. There was nothing she could say here that would help. Her station was ready to perform its part in the act, and that was all she could do.
“Projectors are ready to go. Aligned and drawing power.”
Yu looked up at one of the screens that showed the projector. It was actually one of their micro-black hole production facilities. Twenty-four lasers, each as massive as a battleship, merging their beams to build the pressure to push a small amount of matter past an event horizon. Each massing multiple billions of tons, they made the micro holes that were used in other massive constructs to rip open the fabric of space and create wormholes. There was no need to use those other machines, since their ripping open small rents in space would serve no purpose here.
“Receivers are in place on this side,” called back the chief engineer, Admiral Chin. “All are aligned and ready to go. Except for our projectors.”
The viewer switched to show one of the nearly completed devices. Each was as large as the laser projectors. They had come through in sections more massive than a dozen battleships, pre-planned for quick construction on the other side. They were also experimental, though they had worked in small scale tests, using graviton beams to shift large asteroids around. They might need larger devices, and many more of them to move planets, but in theory it was possible.
The humans had known that a construct like the Supersystem, eight stable stars in perfect orbits around a black hole, could not have been a natural occurrence. Especially not with each sporting multiple planets in perfect stable orbits, many with life, the rest capable of easy terraforming. The ancients had used their own station to power devices much like these, to move planets and even stars around.
Still well beyond the capabilities of the Empire, but someday that might not be true.
“Detonation in twenty-nine minutes,” called out the chief stellar scientist.
“What the hell is happening to my margin,” called out Bednarczyk, her anxious face appearing in a holo.
“It seems the Cacas have made some improvements of their own,” called out one of the chief engineers.
“Wonderful,” shouted Bednarczyk, shaking her head. “Why didn't someone slap me before I agreed with this craziness.”
Yu knew the admiral was brave enough. She had read the reports of the machine front, and no coward could have fought and held those bastards at bay until Chan's plan had taken them out. But this was something different. If the devices didn't work, there was no action the admiral could take to survive, unless she ducked behind the planet and left the people to die.
“Maybe the admiral should move her fleet behind Pleisia,” said Lucille, her eyes roaming the room and seeing approval in some, disapproval in others. “At least she could save her people.”
There was no way a nova could burn through a large rocky planet like that. If it were a supernova the whole world would be turned to vapor and blown out of the system. Only this event was not that powerful. She made eye contact with the Emperor and saw the indecision in his eyes.
“Your call, Admiral,” said Sean after some seconds of hesitation. “If you want to bail, I'll support your decision.”
Now that decision was in Bednarczyk's court, and Yu could see the shifting emotions that denoted her own unsoundness with her ability to reach the right one.
“We have four of the projectors ready to go, ma'am,” said the voice of Admiral Chin, his face appearing on another floating holo. “Or we will have in another ten minutes. And I think we can get the other two up and running before we are hit.”
“Then we'll stay the course,” announced Bednarczyk, her jaw firming. “Just give us the power we need when we need it.”
The tension in the room had ratcheted up considerably. Everyone had come in knowing that this might be a near thing. But all had had faith in Chan and her miracles. No one had thought that some of the variable might shift. This just proved that even the best of them could be wrong.
Chapter Seven
Know when to speak - for many times it brings danger, to give the best advice to kings. Robert Herrick
“Detonation in nine minutes,” called out the officer that was their equivalent of chief scientist.
“So, the estimates were off,” stated Admiral Trostara, staring at a sine wave that indicated the graviton emissions of the star.
And those brave crew are already dead, though Mrastaran, unable to say a word. The particle density around the star had to be so high that any shielding would be useless. The machinery of the ships, antimatter reactors, graviton projectors, would continue functioning up the the final flare. Then those vessels would be carried away as plasma. According to the old religion, th
e souls of the males who had made the ultimate sacrifice would also be carried away to paradise, where there was plenty of food, and males could fight to their heart's delight without fear of injuries. Even though Mrastaran still adhered to the principles of the faith, he had lost all belief in the supernatural or an afterlife centuries before.
Of course, on the plus side, the missiles the humans had fired would never reach their targets. They would be caught in the expanding waves, photon and particle, and swept away.
“The improvements seemed to work,” continued the chief of staff.
And we're working with a different kind of star than any that have been detonated in the past, thought the Great Admiral. Well, he had to think that the humans knew what he was doing, and had their own estimates based on past experience. And now they would be caught off guard as well.
“When will our first missiles arrive?”
“Estimating first attack in one hour and twelve minutes,” called out the tactical officer.
So those were all a waste, thought the admiral. Anything forging into that particle wave would be destroyed. If not from the wave itself, then from the breaching antimatter warheads.
“And when will we have another launch available?”
“Just over three hours after you call for it, my Lord,” replied that tactical officer.
Mrastaran huffed out a breath of frustration. He knew the humans could call on missile streams in an instant. They had accelerator tubes that kept the missiles moving for long periods, and could get fire on demand. Unfortunately, his people had no such, though they were working on the development of such a system. Instead, they launched in normal space and built up speed over many hours. Once the missiles were started toward a wormhole they were committed. If he didn't want them, the missiles could be directed to veer off. And then, after hours spent catching them, they would have to have their crystal matrix batteries recharged. Not a satisfactory state of affairs, but all he had to work with.
“Order another couple of waves, targeting the planet.”
If he was correct, the outgoing missiles of those next volleys would hit the particle wave after it had already spread to the point where the small bodies of missiles could survive. Especially if they kept their seeker heads covered, a Ca'cadasan innovation, until they had passed through the worse of it. He still didn't know what the human commander had planned, but he didn't think she had just put her neck on a chopping block for him to cut.
* * *
“Detonation in five minutes,” called out the voice of a scientist over the com.
Beata didn't know who that was. She didn't recognize the voice, and there were so many people involved in this back at the Donut, she couldn't possibly know all of them.
“What's our progress, Chin?”
“Number five should be up and running in three minutes. Number six is going to take, longer.”
How much longer? She wanted to shout that question, but the engineer knew what was at stake as well as she did. His people would be working at their fastest rate. Which meant they still had to check their work as they went, lest they miss some important steps on the way.
“How is our ship spread?” she asked Janssen.
The man was still at his station, and hadn't moved in minutes. If not for the occasional nodding of his head she could imagine him dead. If not for the tension of the moment she could think him asleep.
“All are in optimal position for coverage of the four projectors, ma'am.”
Which meant there would be none for coverage of the fifth projector, or the sixth. She was willing to put ships in place to cover that fifth unit, but not the sixth, unless things changed a lot in the next two or three minutes.
“Put them in a five unit spread.”
“Yes, ma'am,” shouted Janssen over the noise of spinning turbos that was filling the ship.
The ships started to shift slightly. Thousands of capital ships from three different governments, all slotting into place. The projectors were aligned and ready. Everything was as ready as they could make it. Now, it only had to work.
* * *
Sean was flipping his attention from the face of Lucille Yu, to the viewer looking in on the Pleisia system, to the control room glimpsed through the window. He really couldn't tell if everything was going according to plan at Pleisia, though the ships and projectors all seemed to be in place, as far as he could tell. Yu looked worried, and he couldn't blame her, since he was worried as well. The control room, that vast chamber the size of two soccer pitches, was swarming with activity. Hundreds of technicians monitoring their boards, Scores of supervisors moving from place to place, stopping at some for quick conversation. Of course computers would be handling everything. The people were there to monitor every detail, ready to shift power through auxiliary circuits, or shut it down altogether. If their slow organic reflexes could act in time.
“Photon wave will hit in one minute,” called out a voice.
“Shunt power, now,” yelled Yu, clenching her fists.
A shudder passed through the station as relays the size of battleships opened and power was bled from the trillions of tons of crystal matrix batteries. Other than antimatter the most powerful energy storage system devised, the massive banks could power three or four wormhole generations before they were drained. For this process they would project energy for several minutes before draining completely.
“Power is moving through the wormhole, ma'am. Everything is within predicted limits.”
The Emperor looked at the take of one of the viewers that was showing a laser projector. It was really a chamber used to create the black holes used to make wormholes. Twenty-four massive lasers that normally pushed inward to compress matter beyond an event horizon, the constructs were pealed open so that all the beams could fire ahead. They had been modified as a last resort weapon to defend the station, capable of blasting through a hundred battleships in an instant. The energy they were pulsing was invisible except for periodic flashes as something, dust or debris, entered the beam.
“Energy is impacting the projectors on the other side, ma'am. Everything within the norms.”
And what the hell is the norm for this? thought the young Emperor, clenching his teeth. Nothing like this had ever been done. It would either succeed or not. Worse case? Many of the vital systems of the Donut fried or melted, and they were looking at a couple of months to start producing wormholes again. The Empire could survive that, but it would cause some strain at the fronts. Of greater consequence was a failure that gutted the capital ship strength of all the fleets on the second front. That would cause a collapse on that front, then a greater pressure on his front. He closed his eyes for a moment and said a quick prayer.
“Start the power up process,” ordered Lucille, tension in her voice.
Another screen showed the curvature of the station, the inky blackness of the black hole underneath. A light halo ringed the hole, bent by the gravitational force. A smaller ring, if such a word could be used, was locked in a close orbit around the hole, its massive grabber units keeping it in place. There was spares for that ring, but so far in the operation of the Donut none had been pulled in. Huge tugs, larger than a super heavy battleship, waited to grab things that might be in danger of falling in. Sometimes they even did some good.
The whole thing look so small, since there were no objects in the view that a human mind could use to assign scale. Everything was too big, massive. And then the power up process started and the screen stepped down its brilliance so that humans could actually watch.
Through the centuries there had been many theories of other forms of energy, but after millennia humans had been forced to admit that there was only the fundamental forms they had always known. Photons, or light; electrons, or electricity; and kinetic, the momentum of fast moving particles. Add to that Gravitons, the messenger particle of gravity, and you had all of the forms of energy that humankind could manipulate. That had proven enough to give them mastery of
space. Now electrons streamed from the station to the inner ring. Brilliant arcs, hundreds of them, each as powerful as the simultaneous lightning strikes on a Jupiter sized world, cranked out by thousands of multi billion ton dynamos that had been installed in the station over the last fifty years. Some were older tech, but all were sufficiently efficient for the process.
The energy started to flow into the crystal matrix batteries, replenishing them as fast as they were draining. Normally the huge dynamos only ran for a minute or less, allowing them to cool before the next run. This time they would be asked to shoulder a much longer run. Just one of the potential crash points.
Electricity was beamed from the batteries to hundreds of close orbiting satellites, then beamed as microwaves to the laser projectors sending power through the wormhole gates. The beams were as centered as could be. The slightest deviation could cause a burn through of the frame of the gate, and it would collapse out of existence.
Sean stared in fascination as the station did something it was not supposed to do. There were massive energies out there, any one of them strong enough to take out a battle fleet. And until now confined to this system.
“We're getting some energy spikes in the older generators,” called out a voice over the com. “So far not enough to worry about.”
“Keep a close eye on them.” shouted back Yu. “You know what to do if you get overheating.”
“What's going on?” asked Sean, his own anxiety spiking.
“Nothing to worry about, yet,” said Yu, pasting and insincere smile on her face. “Some of the older units don't have the ability to handle overheating like the newer generators. We had been planning on upgrading them, but the opportunity never presented itself. We should have enough redundancy in the system to handle this.”
Should have, thought Sean. The station had been called on to do so much. They had never been able to slack off wormhole production for any system upgrades. Only now did they have enough wormholes that they could afford the shutdown, and there was still no time for upgrades.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 16: The Shield. Page 8
