Kris Longknife's Successor

by Mike Shepherd

  Sandy was only a few hours from a huge confab with the leaders of the cat world. They were bringing up not only the political factions in their different national governments, but also their masters of industry and finance. The proposal being laid out for all the parties would impact nearly a tenth of their gross planetary product. A lot of cats were interested in what would happen here.

  Sandy had added Smart MetalTM to Kiel station so that they could create a huge conference room with a large number of break-out rooms. President Almar suggested that she should expect to devote an entire week to these two treaties.

  Then the aliens kicked over the whole damn hornet’s nest.

  “We’ve got alien activity,” her duty officer said through Suzie.

  Sandy scowled at her most formal dress uniform, and slipped her feet into her dress shoes. In a moment, she was in flag plot.

  Admiral Drago had gotten there before her. He was also in formal dress for tonight’s dinner and negotiations.

  “You aren’t going to like this,” he said, through thin lips.

  “What?”

  He pointed at a system that was flashing. Aliens had entered it. Entered it despite it being on the third ring of pickets!

  “What the hell?” was Sandy’s immediate reaction to what she saw.

  “Suzie. You tell Penny and Mimzy to get their asses over here. Now! Better yet, ten minutes ago!”

  “Yes, Admiral, we’re almost there,” Penny’s voice quickly answered from the commlink on her wrist.

  “Correct me, Admiral Drago, didn’t our supercomputers tell us we only had to worry about two systems the aliens could steal a march on?

  “Our computers surely did.”

  Sandy suddenly had a second question. “Suzie. You knew about this double jump before I got here, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, Admiral.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Sandy snapped.

  “Mimzy taught me that there were some things you humans prefer to learn from other humans, especially if you will learn soon enough and it won’t have any material impact on the decision-making process.”

  “Mimzy did, huh?”

  “She said that her mother had found that Kris Longknife was agreeable to this.”

  “We will be revisiting this when we have a spare moment. In the meantime, I want to know immediately when all hell breaks loose.”

  “I shall endeavor to see that you are immediately informed when all hell breaks loose,” Suzie answered evenly.

  Leaving Sandy wondering what a computer would consider ‘all hell breaking loose,’ but there was no time to haggle over it at the moment.

  About that time, out of breath but present, Penny galloped into Flag plot.

  “Yes, Admiral?”

  “I thought I was assured that only two of the systems three rings out could be jumped into from outside our perimeter.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Penny said.

  “Mimzy?”

  “Those assessments were based on assumptions that appear to no longer be correct,” the computer answered.

  “Explain yourself,” Sandy snapped.

  “To make a long jump, you have to put a high velocity on your ship. If you’ve got a lot of energy on your ship, you need high gee deceleration to slow down before you go zipping through the next jump above the speed limit and go hurtling past the next system you want to be in.”

  “And?”

  “Alien battleships have never been able to maintain a two-gee acceleration or deceleration. I assumed that we’d be dealing with less than a two-gee deceleration and therefore, that system could not be jumped into.”

  Sandy eyed the readout next to the flashing system. “Forty-five battleships jumped into that system in fifteen minutes. We can’t range them, but they must have hit the other side of that jump with a whole of a lot of velocity.”

  “Yes, ma’am. They will have to decelerate at 2.3 gees all the time they are crossing the system to slow down enough to make the next jump work for them.”

  “Two point three gees,” Sandy echoed.

  Admiral Drago had been stroking his chin in thought. “Either they’re ready to accept heavy attrition from ships falling out or blowing up due to engineering casualties, or the damn bastards have managed to increase the quality control on their reactors.”

  “It looks like either one or the other, doesn’t it?” Sandy said.

  “Yep. Don’t you hate it when the enemy ups their game while you’re busy upping yours?”

  “I would rather they didn’t,” Sandy admitted. “How soon can you get away from the pier, Bert? I’d prefer to give you an independent command and hold Admiral Nottingham back here with me. He doesn’t have a lot of fighting experience.”

  “We are ready, now, Admiral. However, there is one minor problem. All the atomic devices I have are from the smaller powers, and I am told they may not be as good as those manufactured by other countries. They may also not explode with the same, shall we say, enthusiasm.”

  “So, I need to steal you some more atomics, huh?”

  “Please, dear admiral.”

  Sandy eyed the man. “I thought a colonial girl had her hooks in you?”

  “Sad to say, distance did not make her heart grow fonder, but pardon me, I wasn’t intending to say anything more than that I would be very grateful for the bombs.”

  “Penny? Mimzy? Do either of you have anything to add to my challenges?”

  “I have worked the intercept for Admiral Drago,” Mimzy said, sounding a bit contrite. “Even at 3.5 gees, he will not be able to intercept them at the jump into the system three rings out. A more pleasant two-gee voyage should get you to the jump they’ll use to enter the second system.”

  “Thank you, Mimzy,” Bert said.

  “With me,” Sandy said, curtly.

  She hadn’t joined the Navy expecting a placid life. Not really. Still, it would be nice if she could have a nice quiet banquet and pleasant negotiation session just once in her Navy career.

  23

  Down three near-palatial stairways and around a passageway, Penny led Admirals Santiago and Drago. They strode along at a fast pace, with sailors and officers getting out of their way.

  “Would you like to take a shortcut?” Penny asked.

  “If it won’t take too long.” Sandy knew some shortcuts that were a long way from short.

  “It won’t,” Penny said, trying to swallow a grin.

  Ten paces ahead of Sandy, the bulkhead wavered. In a second, it split and began to flow apart. In little more than the blink of an eye, Sandy found herself walking toward a very impressive arched entryway.

  Penny fell back, and Sandy led the way into a banquet hall. Quite a few of the people seated at tables were staring at her entrance. Others, their back to her, were turning in their seats, having missed the more spectacular aspects of her entry.

  The head table was off to her left; Sandy headed for it. There was a vacant chair between Prime Minister Gerrot and President Almar. Sandy aimed for it. Two other vacant chairs were farther down the table. Penny and Bert chose them.

  “I’m sorry I am late,” Sandy said.

  “We were wondering when you would arrive,” Madame Gerrot said.

  “Is there a problem with the hostile aliens?” President Almar asked.

  “As a matter of fact, yes there is. Should I brief you and then the rest or would it be quicker to just do it all at once?”

  The President and the Prime Minister eyed the other leaders seated at the head table. Sandy didn’t need to read cat body language. Any politician would be balancing the desire to be first to know against the potential error of keeping their new allies in the dark.

  The threat from the aliens likely tipped the scales.

  The President lifted a silver spoon and tapped her water goblet. A clear tone rang out. A room that was quiet became totally silent.

  “Grand Admiral Santiago has told me that there are new developments among the enemy aliens.
She has asked to brief us all. We here at the head table believe that our time is well spent listening to her.”

  There were soft assents around the room, but it quickly returned to silence.

  Sandy stood up. “We have a problem,” she said. “Penny, would you produce a star chart of the local sector for all to see? Show the two aliens we have told them about.”

  A moment later, a holographic star chart floated above the heads of the diners. Some failed to suppress their surprise.

  “I have told you of the first incursion,” Sandy said. A pair of stars began to flash, while a dotted line led to the cat’s system. “The fleet sent out to engage the aliens should be meeting that force very soon.”

  Immediately, a second pair of flashing systems showed where the second attack force was making its way toward Sasquan. “That force will also be engaged. Now, there is a third force.”

  A third star began flashing. It was four jumps away.

  “Each of these attack forces are different. The first is a combined force of slow battleships and fast cruisers. The second force is a fast force of large frigates and smaller cruisers. This third force is still being reported on. The first twenty-nine, however, are battleships.”

  Sandy paused to let the cats absorb all she’d dumped in their furry laps.

  “I have yet to dispatch a fleet to engage this third incursion. I intend to send Admiral Drago here,” she nodded at the admiral who half-stood. “He and his fleet have been your protector since I arrived. He is prepared to sail in harm’s way, but he has raised a concern.”

  Sandy paused for dramatic affect.

  “We dispatched four hundred of the five hundred atomic devices you gave us with the other two forces. We have only one hundred left for Admiral Drago’s fleet. During the time he has been waiting to sail, his crews have stripped the warheads down and found that the quality control during the construction of these hundred was less stringent than on the first four hundred. He fears that if he has to use them, they may explode with small yields, or fail to explode at all.”

  When Sandy paused for a breath, President Almar asked, “Can you tell us where those shoddy weapons are from?”

  There were murmurs in the room. No doubt, this was intelligence critical to many, both for those who produced the bombs and their neighbors who feared they might be used on them.

  “I do not have that information, and doubt if it is available. Let me say that any city that suffered an attack from one of these bombs would be much the worse for the experience. Now, I need for Admiral Drago to sail as quickly as possible. I need for him to sail with a very large supply of atomics. Likely double the size of the other forces I have dispatched. I fear he is headed for the greatest fight.”

  There were murmurs of agreement from the generals in leather harnesses and the admirals in their jackets of different cuts and different shades of blue.

  Sandy turned to the President and then the Prime Minister. To each, she raised a quizzical eyebrow. No doubt the facial expression was lost on the cats, but the need was clear.

  “I will release a hundred and ten of the largest devices from our stockpile,” President Almar said.

  “I will also provide a hundred and ten of our largest,” the Prime Minister said.

  The other four of the lesser powers quickly agreed to give up seventy of their best.

  Admiral Drago stood. “I thank you very much, both in the name of my fighting crews and in your own name. With those devices, we will be much better able to put up a fight in your defense. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get longboats down to your armories to retrieve your gifts and get us on our way.”

  “Admiral Drago,” President Almar said, “You know many of our military officers from your time among us. If we were to nominate some of them to go with you, would you take them?”

  Bert’s lips disappeared as his mouth formed a tight, studied frown. With a sigh he said, “If you will nominate whom you please from the six nations providing us with weapons, I will determine how many we can take along and then apply a lottery.”

  The cats nodded, and Sandy gained new respect for Admiral Drago. If there were individuals that he did not want to take aboard, no doubt, the number would be cut and the offending cat would draw a losing number. Smart.

  Drago now trotted from the room, and the food servers, mostly Marines earning extra pay, began to bring around the trays of food. Sandy decided to stay with the cats for a while. It would be an hour or more before she knew what Drago would face. If more ships were still arriving in three hours, she’d likely have to adjust her forces further.

  The conversation was muted. No one seemed to know exactly what topics were appropriate at the moment. The cats avoided bringing up the incoming intruders. Sandy didn’t want to say anything that would make a mess of the careful negotiations yet to come.

  It was the Prime Minister who broached a subject both could agree to discuss.

  “Have your people had much experience introducing your high tech to new and, if I may say so, deliberately less advanced cultures?”

  “I would think,” Sandy said, “that there is nothing less advanced about your culture. I have no doubts that many of the aspects of your culture are the best suited for your society. I think the more appropriate subject that we both can be concerned about is the problem that introduces different means of production into an economic environment that is unprepared.”

  “Yes. Yes, I think that is what I really meant to say,” the Prime Minister answered.

  “How often has the interjection of such advanced means of production made a wreck of a planet’s economy?” President Almar asked.

  “We haven’t had the problem for a while,” Sandy said. “The birds on Alwa are not at all sure they wanted our plants on their planet. They are content to have them on their moon and there are no factories dirtside. They work for us there and get products made on the moon. I think we both are committed to not sullying their planet with industrial production.”

  “Hmm,” said the Prime Minister, “there are some among us who would be glad to see the pollution from our smoke stacks moved off-planet. That’s been something talked about, but we never figured it would happen in even the lifetimes of our great-grand cubs. Now, maybe it can happen.”

  “That brings us to an idea that we have been discussing,” the President said. “It might shorten the time we need to begin warship construction to little more than a year. We are thinking of establishing a magic metal fabrication foundry on a small island two hundred miles off the coast of my country. We would ship the raw materials there, and you could send down longboats to get them and deliver the product to the moon to expand your fabrication base there.”

  “It would make the startup go a bit slower,” the Prime Minister said, “but it would assure that the pressure to siphon off some of the metal into the local economy could be better controlled.”

  “Then, we could use a lot of your citizens to expand the fabs and work them,” Sandy said. “We could have some of your local plants begin the construction of battle lasers. I doubt there is much that can be transferred there that you haven’t already received.”

  “We have been thinking that way,” the President said. “Five years is about the furthest we can forecast at present.”

  “It’s rare anyone can,” Sandy said. “The trick is to rework your forecast every year. That way you advance into the unknown one year at a time with your eyes no more than five years out.”

  “Good. I’m glad to see we’re in agreement.”

  “You’ll have to work the details out with Amanda and Jacques,” Sandy was quick to point out. “I’m not able to see all the risks involved with something like this.” Sandy glanced at her wrist unit. “I’ve been away from my flag plot for an hour. I really must get back.”

  “But of course, of course,” the Prime Minister said, and all at the head table stood when Sandy did. With a profusion of ‘thank you’s’ and ‘you’re welcomes’
, Sandy stepped away from the table. The archway she’d entered by had flattened out back into a bulkhead. Now it opened again.

  Sandy marched through it, then headed down the passageway, but she couldn’t help but look back to watch as the archway smoothed out into just bulkhead again.

  “Magic metal, indeed,” she muttered to herself as she picked up her pace.

  24

  Sandy found that both Velder and Ashigara were intently eyeing the latest information to arrive from the latest breach in their outer perimeter. The count now stood at one hundred and ninety-nine.

  “All of them are battleships.”

  “Are they coming through faster?” Sandy asked.

  “About forty every fifteen minutes.”

  “Do we understand anything new about these ships?”

  The two other Navy officers shook their head. “They all have one hundred reactors. They seem to represent a new type, possibly a bit stronger than we’ve known, but we don’t have enough hard data to make any better than a guess.”

  It was frustrating to Sandy, to be faced by a growing threat, but not able to gauge it any better than this.

  Fifteen minutes later, there were another forty large alien battleships in the system for a total of two hundred and thirty-nine. Sandy tried not to let that spook her, but clearly, this battle force was at least fifty percent larger than the one Admiral Miyoshi faced.

  An hour later, the count of battleships was up to three hundred and sixty, and the first frigate type warship had made its appearance.

  Sandy now had a serious problem to tackle.

  The other two forces were roughly three hundred and sixty ships. In one case, they were a mixed force. In the other, they were lighter.

  How large a force should she dispatch with Admiral Drago to fight this new force?

  Even if this third force had only sixty or ninety frigates, was it already too large for just one fleet? How small a force could she get by with if one of her detachments was blown away or maneuvered out of position and she had to defend a jump into this system?