Battle of the Ring

by Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  “Tral de lessan!” Velmeran exploded. “So you happen to be my half sister. Is that so bad?”

  “Bad?” Consherra regarded him in complete surprise. “Nothing could make me happier.”

  The entire group sat in silence for a long, expectant moment as Velmeran glanced from one to the other. At last he sighed heavily and sat back in his chair. “Now, if...”

  “You will ask Tryn and Schayressa about it, though?”

  “As soon as this is over,” Valthyrra promised, then turned to look at Velmeran, who sat with his arms crossed, staring at the ceiling. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  “I am going inside the Challenger and reprogram her so that she cannot shield effectively,” he said quickly, and waited. This time there was no question that he had everyone’s complete attention – everyone except Lenna, who was so impressed that she again propped up her head and closed her eyes. Valthyrra was speechless, and Consherra appeared likely to explode as soon as she could collect her wits and find her tongue. And yet Mayelna, the source of many past arguments, was not in the least bit surprised.

  “There is no way to destroy the Challenger from the outside,” he continued. “We have proven that. The only solution is to do something from the inside so that she can no longer assemble her complete power grid. Consherra, that is your department. What would you do if you had access to the Challenger’s primary programming?”

  Consherra was caught off guard by that question; whether he intended that particular result, it had the effect of putting out her fuse before she reached an explosive level. She was about the most gifted programmer in the fleet, with access to the secrets of Valthyrra’s construction. Certainly no one in the Union knew as much about advanced sentient systems.

  “Well, there are any number of bugs you can throw into the system,” she answered uncertainly. “Under the circumstances, the best would be to insert a loop that throws power sources back out of the grid as others come on line.”

  “But to do anything effective, you have to get free access to the Challenger’s basic programming,” Valthyrra protested. “You know yourself the types of safeguards they are going to have on that system. It probably takes hours to get inside even when you know the codes and passes.”

  “True,” Velmeran agreed. “But what if you could bypass the guards and go directly into the system? I can get instant control of the Challenger.”

  “Nice trick! How do you think...” Valthyrra’s voice faded suddenly, and her lenses assumed a distant stare. Then, as everyone watched expectantly, she began to recite.

  “There once was an entrepreneur

  Auditioning girls for his tour.

  One girl showed her stuff

  But it wasn’t enough.

  So he promptly proceeded to... to...”

  She seemed almost to blink, then turned her camera pod to look at Velmeran. “And so you get control of the Challenger. What then?”

  “Then I order her to open her programming from the inside,” he explained.

  “Simple enough,” Valthyrra agreed. “I should be ashamed of myself for always underestimating you.”

  “So you should.”

  “Where did you come up with that, anyway?”

  “Lenna.”

  “Yes, I recognize the material.” She turned to Mayelna. “Yes, he really can do it.”

  “I have already learned from experience that he can and will do what he says,” Mayelna replied. “So, you create a diversion, land on the Challenger’s hull, and enter through a convenient airlock. I suppose that you can force one without being detected?”

  “Easily,” he assured her.

  “Then you juggle her programming and get back out again?”

  “Preferably in a hurry,” Velmeran added. “We will have to arrange our timing so that Valthyrra will attack as soon as possible after the tampering. That way, even if they know what we did, they would not have time to correct the damage.”

  “Wait a moment,” Consherra interrupted. “You can bet that Marenna Challenger has the ability to review her own programming. That is how our own ships develop personalities; they are continually altering and expanding their personalities.”

  “Yes, but there must be a way to hide the alteration,” Velmeran insisted.

  “Of course. You can insert the alteration in an invisible loop. The information inside such a loop instructs her to be blind to the loop itself while incorporating the alterations into the master program. It is by no means foolproof. Once she realizes that she cannot raise the grid as she should, she will go back in to look for the problem. Still, there will be an interval between the time she recognizes the trouble and is able to correct it. That will be Valthyrra’s one chance to destroy her.”

  Velmeran nodded. “I knew that. I was hoping that you would be able to insert an invisible loop that she would find particularly difficult to detect and delete.”

  “Well, yes, I could,” Consherra agreed. Then she realized what he had in mind. “Now, wait a minute! That is not my line of work.”

  “We all have to start somewhere,” Velmeran said.

  “But how do you plan to get me there?” she protested weakly.

  “You can fly yourself there, like the rest of us. You keep a fighter of your own, and you have practiced with me often enough for me to know that you happen to be a very good pilot. I also know that you flew with the packs for several years before you transferred to helm.”

  “Yes, but I am needed here.” Consherra seized upon that thought as an excuse.

  Valthyrra regarded her closely. “Just who do you think is flying this ship right now? Your value is as second-in-command, not as an emergency flight computer, and just now your knowledge of sentient computer systems makes you invaluable to this mission.”

  There was a long moment of silence, during which there was an abrupt shift in viewpoints in this argument. Velmeran, who had been considering the requirements of this expedition only as its leader, suddenly remembered his earlier prophecy was likely to be the cause of his own death. He had forgotten that prediction mostly because it had ceased to be valid. But now it was back. Someone in this room, himself included, would not survive the assault on the Challenger, but he had no idea who. At least he could be certain of Consherra’s safety.

  “Actually, Consherra is right,” he said quickly. “There is no reason for her to go. I can modify the Challenger’s programming as easily as she could.”

  “Oh, of course,” Valthyrra agreed, supporting him enthusiastically for some reason of her own. “I doubt that her abilities would make that much difference.”

  Consherra, however, had been considering the matter herself, and she had realized that this might be her only opportunity to accompany Velmeran on one of his special tactics missions. “Now wait just a moment. No one can hide that loop as well as I can, and the success of the mission depends on it.”

  That was followed by a moment of complete silence. This abrupt and complete reversal of positions left everyone speechless with confusion and surprise. Even Lenna appeared to be fully awake for the first time.

  “Meran, I have to share the risks like everyone else on this ship,” she continued. “It happens that there is a task to be done that I can do better than anyone else.”

  Velmeran frowned and looked up at Valthyrra. Her camera pod made a helpless shrugging motion. “She is right, as much as I hate to admit it.”

  Velmeran knew that himself, although he found it almost impossible to agree. He shivered imperceptively at the memory, more vivid than it had been these past two years, of the horror of waiting for Dveyella to die while he had been unable to help her. At last he nodded slowly, then looked over at Baress. “Will you come with us?”

  “I would be delighted.”

  “What about me, Captain?” Tregloran asked anxiously.

  “Oh, I had something in mind when I asked you here,” Velmeran said, smiling. “I need for you, Trel, and Marlena to stay with the ships and gua
rd our way out. Our suit communication will not penetrate the quartzite shielding on the hull, so I need a good telepath on the outside to relay any messages.”

  “And me,” Lenna added with determination.

  “You?” Velmeran looked at her questioningly. “Just what do you think you can do for us?”

  “Any number of things,” she declared. “For one thing, I can put on a Union junior officer’s uniform and walk around that big ship just about anywhere I want to go. That’s why you hired me, remember. I’m your spy. And saboteur.”

  Velmeran considered that for a moment and nodded thoughtfully; he knew exactly what she had in mind. “I believe you might just be useful after all. If you are not previously occupied – and able to stay awake – I would be honored if you would accompany us.”

  Lenna smiled mischievously. “I already knew that you would be needing me.”

  “And I knew when I called you here that you were planning to go,” Velmeran added. “So this is where we stand. Baress, Consherra, and I will go inside the fortress to do the program tampering. Lenna will go along to do whatever she can. I have been looking at Schayressa’s scan, so I know where we can enter. It involves a walk – in straight-line distances – of just over five kilometers. Since our direct communication will be cut off, we had better make arrangements now. As soon as we go in, Valthyrra will allow the Challenger to pass and fall in some distance behind. We can use transports in formation to clear a corridor that resembles her own. At our signal she will close for the attack, forcing the Challenger out of the ring and into open space.”

  “And just how do I force her out?” Valthyrra asked.

  “She is going to go willingly,” he assured her. “When she sees an undamaged Methryn coming at her from behind, she is going to run to open space where she can fight more effectively.”

  The camera pod nodded thoughtfully. “You are probably right. But how do you land seven fighters on her hull undetected?”

  “In a mass of general confusion. To put it simply, we need a diversion.”

  “Oh? What kind of a diversion?”

  “Oh, I had something in mind,” Velmeran said as he leaned back in his chair. “If nothing else works, we can always throw rocks.”

  “Are you sure that you feel up to it?” Velmeran asked, pausing at the door as he followed the others out. Valthyrra regarded him quizzically. “Do I feel up to it?”

  “Well, you are getting a little old.”

  “Old?” She lifted her camera pod threateningly. “I, for one, do not consider eighteen thousand to be old at all, not compared to how long I expect to last. Nor do I believe that Donalt Trace or any other two-armed primate can build a better machine than I am, and I intend to prove it.”

  “Just checking,” Velmeran said, and disappeared out the door.

  “I like that!” Valthyrra remarked to herself as she stared for a moment, then turned to Mayelna. “Surely he has no complaint about my performance.”

  Mayelna stared in disbelief. “Are you serious? He was just playing with you. When were you ever not ready for a fight?”

  “I guess so,” she agreed weakly, then turned to Consherra. “And what of yourself? What could possibly possess you to insist upon going?”

  “As I recall, you and Velmeran did all the insisting,” Consherra replied defensively. “Then, once you convinced me of the necessity, you abruptly changed your minds.”

  “I had momentarily forgotten one important matter,” the ship reminded her. “As you seem to have forgotten altogether. How can you possibly go? Can you still fit inside your armor?”

  Consherra glanced apprehensively at Mayelna, and could tell by the Commander’s expression that she was well aware of what the ship was implying. She had the sudden urge to tamper with Valthyrra’s programming; this was embarrassing enough as it was.

  “Yes, I can still fit inside my armor,” she insisted, turning back to the glaring camera pod. “I am still just a month along, with five months yet to go. This is something I must do.”

  “And what about the safety of your child?” Valthyrra countered.

  “I am aware of the risk, and I accept it,” Consherra replied firmly. “You know that little short of my own death will do my child any harm.”

  “Velmeran would not want you to take this risk.”

  Consherra drew herself up sternly. “Velmeran is my mate and the father of my child. I know that he would not approve, but the decision remains my own. Baressa is pregnant by the same father, and yet not even he questions her right to take part in this. In fact, he left her in command of the packs in his absence.”

  “Enough, Val,” Mayelna interrupted when the ship was prepared to protest yet again. “She is right on two important points. She is needed, and it is her decision. Nor is Velmeran to be told of... her condition. He has enough to think about just now, and that would be too much of a distraction.”

  “Very well,” Valthyrra agreed reluctantly.

  Consherra turned to Mayelna and smiled self-consciously. “I am sorry, Commander.”

  “Sorry about what?” Mayelna demanded gently. “Dear girl, I can die happy now.”

  “But, commander...”

  “No, girl, stop worrying about it,” Mayelna said firmly. She began to rise but decided that she should not; this came as more of a surprise than she wanted anyone to know. “Listen, I know what this means to you, and I know how happy this is going to make him. That is all that really matters. If my approval is that important to you, then understand that I could not be more pleased. And you can bet that old chips-for-brains is excited, or she would not be so overprotective. Now, you go get ready.”

  “Yes, Commander,” Consherra agreed eagerly, obviously pleased, although her cautious retreat from the room suggested that she was still afraid that she had done something wrong. She turned and hurried down the corridor.

  “So, she got your little boy in trouble,” Valthyrra remarked, amused. “I see the problem now. If you people did not have such a guilty conscience about neglecting your duty, I might have the crew I was built for.”

  Knowing that she had at least an hour, Lenna hurried to her cabin and hastily climbed into her armor. She had already set aside what she would need, putting the Union officer’s uniform that Valthyrra had made for her in a pressure-resistant bag along with a modest supply of emergency makeup and her old Union service pistol. She preferred the more powerful Starwolf guns, but the aging jack-snapper was part of her disguise. Collecting her supplies, she went directly to the landing bay, where their fighters had just been brought out, and tucked the bag into the small storage compartment in her own ship. Then she climbed inside the cockpit, closed the canopy, and promptly fell asleep.

  Such was her condition when the others arrived a little over an hour later. They halted in front of the first fighter while Velmeran mounted the steps of the boarding platform and rapped sharply on the closed canopy.

  “Wake up, Lenna!” he ordered, although she could not have heard him inside the sealed cockpit.

  After a moment the latches snapped open and the canopy rose slowly to reveal Lenna, yawning hugely. Velmeran reached in and lifted her easily from the seat, standing her on the edge of the platform. Still yawning, she led the way down the steps to join the others. Baress handed her a large rifle and a belt that held several small, thick metal disks. She looked at the items curiously.

  “The Challenger is virtually uninhabited,” Velmeran began. “She has about one regular crewmember to every cubic kilometer of interior space, and the Kalfethki are confined to a small area. Unfortunately, there are sixteen automatons to every cubic kilometer, and no handgun is going to dent their armor. That rifle has an armor-piercing carrier beam and enough of a charge to wreck the inside of any sentry, and it is also the only thing that can kill a Kalfethki quickly. The heat charges are just as effective against sentries, but you have to get one against the hull of the machine for it to do any good.”

  “I know how it works,
” Lenna assured him. “Tregloran explained it to me.”

  “He did?” Velmeran looked questioningly at Tregloran, who pretended ignorance.

  All the various weapons were handed out to the members of the assault force, and they hurried to their ships to stow their equipment. Velmeran helped Consherra with her own, since she handled the weapons with such unease that they might have been fierce, alien creatures and likely to bite. Climbing into the cockpit, however, she betrayed her complete familiarity with the fighter.

  “I will get you back safely,” he assured her as he helped her fasten her straps.

  She looked at him with open astonishment. “I am not concerned about myself. I know that you will be taking all the chances, so I want you to watch out for yourself. Just remember that the winning of this battle does not win the war. We need you alive for more important matters.”

  Velmeran smiled. “Now you sound like my mother.”

  “Oh?” she asked skeptically, and smiled. “When we come back, I have something to say that should convince you otherwise.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he remarked, and kissed her quickly.

  He left a crewmember to assist her in securing the cockpit, gathering the weapons he had left beneath the fighter and hurrying to his own ship. He knew that he was wasting too much time. Valthyrra had already begun her evasive maneuvers, and would soon be complaining that he was likely to ruin all their careful planning with his procrastination. The ship had long since ceased to be concerned for his safety, at least as far as he could tell. Mayelna did quite enough worrying for the two of them, so he was not surprised to find her waiting beside his fighter.

  “I came to see you off,” she said, almost apologetically. “I do not suppose that I need to remind you to be careful.”

  “That idea has already occurred to me,” he assured her as he transferred his weapons to his lower hands and keyed the hidden latch to his fighter’s cargo compartment. “Would it be pointless of me to ask you not to worry?”

  “No way,” she said. “How is Consherra?”