by Dietmar Wehr
“Sit down, Koenig. We’ve got a lot to discuss.” Corrigan waited until Koenig was seated before continuing. “I know that you were on Excalibur’s Bridge during the attack and that you inquired about firing on the bogey. Not your fault that the Tong ship was travelling too fast for us to strike back. Instead of your raid causing them to pause and consider a negotiated end to hostilities, it seems to have had the opposite effect. As the bogey accelerated away, it transmitted a message for us. The Tong started this war to gain territory for temporary transfers of their population in order to give themselves time for a more permanent solution to the oncoming super-wave problem. When we destroyed their shipbuilding capacity, that had the effect of eliminating any possibility of saving most of their people. They won’t be able to build enough transport capacity in time to move everyone somewhere else, and they’re mad as hell. So mad in fact that they’re going to devote whatever short-term shipbuilding capacity they still have to constructing more ships like the one that just hit us. In terms of our strategic situation, this is the worst possible outcome. We now have an enemy who can strike us again and again, and instead of seeking territory, they now seem fixated on conducting the war as an exercise in punishment. When both sides run out of military targets, that only leaves civilian targets. How long will it be before they decide to launch orbital bombardment on our cities with nukes? God, what a mess.”
When Koenig was certain that Corrigan had finished speaking, he cleared his throat and said, “How bad did they hit Durendal, sir?”
Corrigan looked as though he didn’t really want to answer, but he did. “All four tech support personnel were killed. The ship was sliced open from the engine compartment almost all the way to the Bridge. It only has emergency power available, which is not enough to land it, and we don’t have the infrastructure to even begin to repair it in orbit. Her crew and CO will be re-assigned. That brings me to you and Excalibur. During your R&R, the Strategy Board came up with a preliminary short-term plan that called for Sting, Tizona and Curtana to take turns raiding Tong systems and doing picket duty at Point Able. Excalibur and Durendal were to be assigned the very difficult mission of stealing the atom-manipulation tech from the Xenophobes. You would have been given a temporary promotion to Task Force Leader in overall command of the mission. How you’d go about stealing that technology hadn’t been determined yet, but the thinking was that two Javelins with hull camo tech might be able to pull it off. Clearly Durendal won’t be available and pulling one of the other three off their picket/raid/rest cycle would put a heavy strain on the other two; although what good picketing Point Able will be now that we know the Tongs have their own stealthy ship is a debatable point. The bottom line is that the SB isn’t prepared to devote half of our remaining Javelins to the mission. If one ship tries and fails, then we have three Javelins left, and we may then send one of them to try to trade for the cloaking tech as a last resort. If we sent two and both were lost, then we’d be too weak to do anything except match the Tong in tit-for-tat raids. As soon as Excalibur has finished her refit, you’ll be given specific orders for that mission. Any questions?”
Corrigan was visibly surprised when Koenig immediately said, “Yes, sir. What about trading something we already have for the atom-manipulation tech?”
Corrigan sighed. “If it were up to me, I’d say go ahead and try it, but our civilian leadership has heard about the restraint that the Vergon have exercised with regards to the Xeno race, and they have instructed me and the SB that we should exercise the same restraint. They seem to feel that giving the Xenos gravity cannon or the hyperspace maneuvering tech would make them an even more dangerous potential enemy.”
“But pissing them off by stealing their atom-manipulation tech won’t?” asked Koenig.
“Apparently not,” said Corrigan in an exasperated tone. “They’re quite emphatic about it. We’re not to trade any technology that has military applications, including the hyperspace maneuvering tech. You’ll have one hand tied behind your back, Koenig. It’s a shitty deal, but that’s the hand you’ve been dealt. Any more questions?”
“Not right now, sir, but I may have some later.”
“Fair enough. If you do, come back and see me. For now, you’re dismissed.”
Koenig left the office is a hurry. He wanted to confer with Vasily as soon as possible. Maybe she would have an idea of how to accomplish this seemingly impossible quest.
Vasily was just as stumped as he was on how they could actually steal the technology without the Xenos being aware of it. Hacking into an alien computer was nice in theory but damned difficult in practice. That had been tried with both the Tong and the Jabs when they’d first been discovered, and the attempts had failed miserably. There were apparently lots of ways to build and program a computer, and unless you knew how it had been done for a target computer, anything you got back was likely to be just so much gibberish.
When Excalibur was finished her retrofit and declared operational again, Vasily supervised the recall of the crew and the replenishment of the ship’s inventory of consumables and spare parts. The ship would be carrying passengers too, all experts in various technical fields who would be needed to evaluate and understand whatever alien tech Koenig might be able to get access to. The ship was back in orbit and ready to go when Koenig arrived at the spaceport for the shuttle ride up. He was surprised to see a TOSF air-limo flying a flag with three stars sitting next to his shuttle. It had to be Corrigan, who was the only officer who wore three stars. As Koenig got out of his aircar, he saw one of Corrigan’s aides gesture for him to come over to the air-limo. As he got close, the aide spoke.
“The CSO would like a quick word with you, Commander.”
Koenig nodded and stepped into the open vehicle. Corrigan waited until he was seated.
“This is no last-minute pep talk,” said Corrigan. “Far from it. Officially this little chat never took place. If you tell anyone otherwise, I’ll deny it. Here’s your official orders.” Corrigan’s outstretched hand held a red datachip. Koenig took it. “It says exactly what I told you in my office. Get the atom-manipulation tech but not by trading other military tech to the Xenophobes. Now I’m going to give you some unofficial verbal orders, and you’ll understand why the need for secrecy. Get that technology any way you can, even if you have to trade another military tech for it. How you explain your success is up to you. My advice, for what it’s worth, would be to lie, but if you’re caught lying, your career in the TOSF is over. If you admit that you traded a piece of tech for it, your career will probably be over too. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to protect you. Unfortunately, there’s no upside to this for you, only downside. If you decide to follow your official orders, I’ll understand, but I’m hoping you can put the welfare of the human race above your own personal goals. Our backs are to the walls, Koenig. HQ’s TacComp only gives us a one third chance of not being nuked to the point of extinction if we don’t get that atom tech. That’s all I have to say. Don’t ask me any questions. You’re dismissed and good luck.”
Koenig’s stomach felt like it was tied in knots as he exited the vehicle. It was all on his shoulders. Confiding his unofficial orders to Vasily would only put her career in jeopardy. If he said nothing to her, she could honestly claim to have been kept in the dark about his intentions. Asking her to climb out on that limb with him just so he would feel better about what he might have to do was a pretty selfish act. No, this decision would be his and his alone. He checked the official orders on his way up to the ship and was gratified to see that except for the ‘do not trade’ prohibition, he had complete discretion on how to accomplish his mission. By the time the shuttle settled down on Excalibur’s hangar bay deck, Koenig had one possible strategy in mind. If he couldn’t trade military tech to the Xenophobes, maybe he could convince another race to do it for him. His orders said he wasn’t allowed to trade directly with them. It didn’t say no trade period. That was clearly the spirit in which the orders had been
written but the actual language used left a potential loophole if he interpreted his orders to the letter.
Vasily was waiting for him as he disembarked.
“Welcome aboard, Commander. Are those our orders?”
Koenig realized that he was still holding the red datachip. “They are. Is everyone aboard now?”
“Yes. The full crew is aboard, as are our six technical experts. You’re going to be the only person on board with living quarters all to yourself, sir. The ship is topped up with supplies. We’re ready to leave orbit when you give the word.”
“Very good, XO. Keonig to Astro.”
“Astro here.”
“Has Traffic Control given us clearance to leave orbit?”
“Affirmative, Commander.”
“Then take the ship out of orbit and head for a star system on the edge of known Xenophobe space. Do not jump until I give the okay. The XO and I have things to discuss in my quarters.”
“Acknowledged.”
Koenig checked to make sure that his gear would follow him to his quarters and then gestured for Vasily to do so as well. Once inside his quarters, he handed the datachip to Vasily.
“Here. Take a look while I get my gear sorted out.”
When she was done reading the orders, he left the rest of his unpacked gear where it was and headed over to the small conference table. It had a 3D holographic display that would be perfect for what he wanted to do.
“Koenig to Astro. Project a star map over my conference table that shows Xenophobe space, plus the areas controlled by the races that have either communications or cloaking technology. Show the com races in white and cloaking races in green.”
The space above the table seemed to swirl with tiny dots of light like fireflies that quickly formed a rigid formation. As he and Vasily watched, the star map zoomed out and changed colors.
“Good! Now add the extent of the super-wave.” A semi-transparent, slightly curving blue wall appeared on one side.
“Well, well, well! Look at that, XO. The super-wave seems to be very close to what the Vergon know about the Xenophobes! I’m willing to bet that they’re aware of what it can do, and I wonder if that’s what’s making them so aggressive. I also wonder if it might make them more willing to trade for tech instead of taking it.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they are more willing, but don’t our orders say we can’t trade military tech to them, Commander?”
“Yes, indeed, XO. That’s what our orders say. I’m ordered not to offer or accept an offer to trade either gravity cannon, hull camouflage, FTL communication or hyperspace maneuvering tech.” He leaned over the table and pointed to the white and green areas that were closest to the red that represented Xenophobe space. “But our orders don’t prohibit us from trying to arrange a three-way trade involving another race. Considering how close these two races are to the Xenos, I wonder if they might be willing to give the Xenos some tech if we give them something in return and if the Xenos are willing to share the atom tech with either us or them.”
He looked at Vasily and saw her frowning. “Their proximity to the Xenos is likely to make them even more reluctant to make the Xenos militarily stronger don’t you think, sir?”
Koenig smiled. “Well, first of all, when we’re in my quarters or on the Bridge and there are no other human crew around, you can drop the ‘sir’ and call me Wolfe, okay?” She nodded but said nothing, knowing that there was more. “Now as far as these two races are concerned, let’s find out what they don’t have. Astro. Remind me again what techs we have that the two closest races to the Xenos lack.”
“The race with the communications technology does not have gravity cannon, hull camouflage or hyperspace maneuvering. The race with the cloaking technology does not have gravity cannon, FTL communications or hyperspace maneuvering. They also do not have hull camouflage, but since their cloaking technology is superior to our hull camo technology, that does not appear to be a tradeable item.”
“And the Xenos?” asked Koenig.
“Data on their technology is limited. We can surmise that they do not have FTL communications, and the limited extent of their known conquests would imply that they do not yet have hyperspace maneuvering. There is no data on whether they have cloaking or gravity cannon technology.”
Koenig stood up straight and crossed his arms. “Okay, XO, I now want you to put on your Xenophobe alien hat and try to think like a highly aggressive race that has this super-wave coming at you from one side. If an alien race contacted you and offered one of either FTL communications, hyperspace maneuvering or cloaking technology in exchange for your atom manipulation tech, which one would you rather have?”
Vasily stared at the star map for what had to be at least 30 seconds. “If they…if I was faced with the problem of moving billions of individuals to some place safe from the super-wave, then the only thing better than being able to build ships quickly is being able to build ships quickly that can move around the spiral arm very fast, so I’d say the hyperspace maneuvering tech.”
Koenig nodded. “That’s a rational way to look at the super-wave problem. The challenge for us is that not all alien races think the same way we do. But since we have to make some assumptions in order to decide how to approach this mission, I’m willing to proceed on the basis that the Xenos would think the same way. The race with the communications tech, do we know what they call themselves by the way?”
“According to the Vergon, the phonetic pronunciation of their name is Zukalistofonix,” said the astro AI.
“I’ll never remember that,” muttered Koenig. Vasily suppressed the urge to giggle. “We’ll call them the Zukas. What about the closest cloaking race?”
“The Vergon did not establish direct communications with them and are not certain what they call themselves,” said the AI.
“Well, until we learn otherwise, let’s refer to them as the Cloak-’A’s to distinguish them from the other cloaking race which I guess will be the Cloak-’B’s. Now that we’ve got that straightened out, I’ll finish the thought that I started. The Zukas seem to be far enough away from the super-wave that they may not know about it yet. They’re also closer to us than the Cloak-’A’s. If the Vergon have already contacted them, we should be able to communicate with them by using the Vergon language as a common language. If we go to the Zukas first, tell them about the super-wave and about the Xenos atom tech, they might be willing to consider a three-way trade that doesn’t violate the strict interpretation of our orders.”
When Vasily didn’t respond right away, Koenig looked at her. “What are you thinking?”
Instead of replying immediately, she walked around the table while she continued to stare at the star map. “It’s hard to tell from this scale. but it looks to me as though the Cloak-’A’s are closer to the Zukas than the Xenos are. If the Zukas have made contact with the Cloak-’A’s…”
Koenig nodded his understanding and finished the sentence for her. “…then that has all kinds of interesting possibilities such as maybe a four-way trade. Yes, indeed, Karine. We’ll definitely keep those possibilities in mind. Do you concur with the idea of contacting the Zukas first?”
“Yes, s…yes, Wolfe.”
“Good! I’ll let you confer with Astro as to our first jump target while I finish unpacking. As soon as we know where we’re going and are lined up, the ship can jump. Thanks for your insights and comments, Karine.”
After she left, Koenig continued to look at the star map. “Zoom out by a factor of ten.”
The colored areas shrank, and individual stars were barely perceptible now. The curve of the oncoming super-wave was more pronounced.
“Zoom out again by the same factor.”
Now the colored areas were barely noticeable. Koenig shook his head in amazement at how big the galaxy was. Even at this scale, there was only a hint that what he was looking at was a minor offshoot of the larger Sagittarius Arm. The offshoot, called the Orion Spur, had the unique geometry
that it crossed the void between the Sagittarius Arm and the outer Perseus Arm. The super-wave was expanding into the Orion Spur on an acute angle. Races trying to outrun it would have to move along the Spur. Crossing the voids between spiral arms was impossible. Or was it? Could a ship with hyperspace maneuvering capability navigate a trip like that?
“Astro, how long would it take a ship to cross over to the Perseus Arm if it started with a pre-jump velocity of one half light?”
“From the point of view of an outside observer, the trip would take approximately forty-four point eight years. Due to the time dilation of high speed hyperspace transits, the occupants of the ship would experience a duration of thirteen point nine years.”
Koenig had expected the time frame to be measured in years but wasn’t expecting it to take that long. Humans had so far explored only a tiny fraction of the Orion Spur after almost a hundred years.
“Recalculate using point nine pre-jump velocity.”
