Well-Traveled Rhodes (Kinsella Universe Book 6)
Page 19
“I know you have no authority to do so, but if I were you, Captain Drake, I'd shanghai Ensign Rhodes and send her home. She belongs at Maunalua or the Rim Academy. She has no business out here.”
“Please, Commander!” Cindy said, pleading. “You say I belong there. If there is a placement test for those schools, where do you think I'd place? Off the bottom! Please don't do this!”
“Captain Hall?” Captain Drake asked.
“Me? You want me to put my oar in on this? Ensign Rhodes is right; she's not qualified to attend any of the Fleet academies. Tin Tin is right as well. Pixie is...” she sighed, “too dangerous for someone of her proven abilities.”
Captain Drake's face was frozen stone. “This is above my level of competence. Captain Hall is quite correct. Ensign Rhodes has made adequate progress in her preparation for her studies for Fleet Aloft certification. She has not, however, progressed far enough. She needs at least another year, perhaps more, of preparation.
“It would be easy to say, 'Lets keep her safe until then!' But really, how safe is safe? Not to mention, that I don't have the authority to do as you ask, Ensign Roeser. Nor, for that matter does Admiral Gull, although I will bring this matter up to him. The communication chain idea is... of extraordinary importance.”
“But, in this, I think I can safely say that Admiral Gull will bow to the wishes of Admiral Nagoya. Admiral Nagoya has attached great importance to the success of Pixie's mission and that of her follow up sisters. As I said, this is out of my competence.”
She slapped her hand on the conference table. “Now however, communication chains aside, there is the matter of Pixie's mission. We need to plan on how to give you and your crew, Captain Hall, the best possible chance of completing your mission.”
She stopped, seemingly listening. “Wait one.”
Captain Drake sat still, communing with the computer. Finally she spoke once again.
“I have requested the participation of another member of my ship's crew in this meeting. He will be here momentarily. Admiral Gull didn't want to hear about communications relays, but, he says, he's concerned about the idea of diverting Ensign Rhodes from the mission.”
She looked around. “He'll be here in twenty minutes, give or take however long he will need to recover from five and a half g's on the trip.”
Cindy frowned. Why would he need to ride at five and a half g's to discuss her participation? Captain Drake looked at her and Cindy finally put it together. Admiral Gull wasn't coming that quickly to discuss Cindy -- he was coming that quickly to discuss communications relays.
The door to the conference room opened and another man in Fleet Marine tiger-stripes entered. “You wanted to see me, Captain Drake?”
“I did, Master Gunny. I think you would have some important things to inform our planning for a particular mission; I'm sorry to say I didn't think about your participation sooner.
Captain Drake nodded to Master Gunny Hodges. “Master Gunny Will Hodges, this is Master Gunny Okimatzu, Force Recon.”
Gunny Hodges was on his feet instantly. “Gunny Okimatzu!”
“Gunny Hodges. Your fame precedes you.”
“As does yours.” Gunny Hodges turned to Captain Hall. “I saw the specs on our mission, Captain, and it never occurred to me to call in the expert on reconnaissance.”
“Please, be seated Gunny. Ensign Rhodes, please brief Gunny Okimatzu in on your mission. You may give him the full details.”
Cindy had no idea why Captain Drake wanted her to conduct the brief -- it was Captain Hall's, after all.
Still, she explained Pixie's mission without mentioning particulars. At the end of the brief, Captain Drake spoke up.
“Gunny, Ensign Rhodes quite properly left out one important fact from her brief. In fact, that detail is known to us as well, but you never had the need to know until now. Quite simply, if you run a fan at a level sufficient to detect other fans at a distance, your fan is detectable as well.”
Gunny Hodges spoke up. “Imagine a recon patrol, Gunny, that has to be in constant smoke signal communication with higher headquarters. Everywhere they go, the other side would know where they were.”
Gunny Okimatzu shook his head. “They wouldn't be in contact for long.”
“We can run faster than they can,” Tin Tin told him.
“And probably longer,” Captain Hall added.
“Oh, like that's a long term solution!”
Admiral Gull entered the compartment, looking a little peaked. Everyone bounced to their feet.
“If I had wanted you to stand, I'd have ordered it,” he said, slumping bonelessly into a chair. “For God's sake, let an old man get some rest!”
Cindy could see his eyes were alert and that his movements were crisp and decisive.
“Before we start, one topic not on the agenda is relays. Four months, Captain Drake. Four months left. If it works it will be the greatest navigation feat in the history of the Federation.”
Tin Tin Roeser whistled. “And I thought Captain Drake's idea of diverting one of Pixie’s assets was bold!”
Cindy leaned forward. “Admiral, I know I have no say in this but please... don't do it. Please don't send me home.”
“You are protected, Ensign, by your order authority, even if I wanted to divert you.
“While I quite agree with the characterization that you are too smart to expend uselessly, I also have to face the fact that the Federation, and the Fleet, are finally beginning to break out of the box we've been in for the last couple of hundred years.
“Ensign Rhodes isn't the only one able to think outside the box these days; you Rim Runners have had too many slaps in the face in the last two and a half years to be comfortable in our assumptions any more -- there is a concerted effort to go back to basics. And that's starting to bear fruit...”
“Five seconds,” Captain Drake said. “That's how long it took her to come up with the idea. An idea, I might add, that my AI hasn't come up with; for all that he did a good job predicting Ensign Rhodes' approach. I'm willing to bet, though, she did a better job on the fan detection issue.”
Gunny Hodges spoke up. “I was in her presence; I explained how fan detection worked. I noticed at once she was agitated; then she explained why she was agitated. It wasn't even five seconds. I'd say it was an instinctive arrangement of the knowledge she knew.”
Admiral Gull turned to Captain Drake. “In the final analysis, Captain, we have to consider the risk/reward ratio for the Federation. If Ensign Rhodes is of the value you say she is -- and I agree -- then she could be critical to the mission's success.
“Currently the Fleet has two primary goals: defending systems and exploring our enemy's astrography. While we have to be diligent in the extreme defending the remaining systems of the Federation, quite simply we will eventually lose the war if we can't find where our enemies live. Earth could survive the attack launched against it; Fleet World probably could; so could Adobe. Probably. None of the rest of the Federation could. If this is the result of eight or nine months construction on their part, we could be facing a situation where we'll start getting attacks like what Earth just took once or twice a year, against systems that couldn't possibly hope to defend against the onslaught.
“Our enemies can't be incurably stupid -- they started the war with massive strokes against systems, and when someone escaped they tried to do as much damage as possible to as many systems as possible, until we whittled them down to the point where they were more likely going to fail.
“But, with Fargo and her sister ships, even now under construction, we will be able to meet large fleets of our enemies with large fleets of our own. It will become a massive war of attrition in that case.
“Our only hope is to find more enemy systems, and then, when we're ready, start knocking them back.”
He nodded to Cindy. “Your own opinions on the conduct of the war, notwithstanding.”
“Admiral, I had a ring-side seat to watch the battle at Ear
th; I'll grant you I doubt if I understood a tenth of what I saw, but I saw enough to realize the error of my ways. I still believe that we aren't like them and that as humanity we can do better than wanton destruction. But now isn't that time; it's going to take a lot of careful thought, even more careful study, and then a lot more thought. But we can't let them hit us like that. We'll have to be able to stop them every time; they only need to succeed once.”
“Exactly right, Ensign. So, I'm sorry, Captain Drake. Ensign Rhodes assignment stands as is.”
The admiral grinned at them. “And, now as is the tradition in such councils of war, we'll start with our most junior member first. And, for the purposes of this exercise, I mean junior in terms of experience aloft. Ensign Rhodes, your thoughts if you please on how Pixie should be employed.”
Cindy had no intentions of punting like she'd done the first time she had an opportunity to speak at a council of war.
“We've talked about this aboard Pixie, at least the first steps. We need to parameterize detection. That is, we need to send a ship out and turn down the fans, and then send another after it, to see at what point they are no longer detectable -- and whether or not the first ship can detect the second. It is possible that there is a gradual drop off of detectability; we couldn't decide if that was going to be useful or not.
“The second thing we've tried to think about is our actual mission parameters. The original plan was to sit silent, watching ships go by, and plotting their courses. We're sure that's not going to work; we no longer approach a system directly, not until we get close. I would think aliens who've known how fan detection works for longer than we have, would be careful as well.”
“First and Second Rome didn't detect any such caution,” Admiral Gull commented.
“Once they realize we're there, they may do something,” Cindy shot back. “We need to be prepared for that. In any case, I don't think sitting still is going to work; they will quickly locate us, and then come for us. Anytime we detect a ship heading directly for us, we're going to have to go to High Fan ourselves and outrun the pursuit.
“We have, we think, some advantages over them -- our ships appear slightly faster and our detectors appear to work at a greater distance. I was thinking that we could run 'slices' through their territory. Go out to one side of where we think they are, and run a course through to the other side. Even if they detect us, we should be able to outdistance them at some point, stop, wait until the pursuit passes, reorient and take another cut.
“It would be time consuming, but, I think, relatively safe.”
The admiral nodded. “Is that it, Ensign?”
“Yes, sir. We know it's just a start, but it's what we've come up with.”
“Captain Hall? Any comments?”
“We're going to have a very low intrinsic velocity -- almost none. We are going to have to be able to reorient as quickly as possible.”
“You do realize,” Captain Drake interjected, “that more likely than not, what will be coming for you won't be a ship -- well, a ship might be coming too, but they're going to use some of their High Fan homing missiles against you?”
“Aye, Captain. That's one of the reasons we want a low intrinsic. It's our feeling that whatever comes after us, at least at first, will have a much higher intrinsic and won't be as agile. We want to be able to drop from High Fan, pile on a couple of G's and go right back to High Fan.” She gestured at Cindy.
“Ensign Rhodes is one of the fortunate sods who aren’t much affected by fan transitions.”
“Gunny Okimatzu, I'm not surprised to find you slumming with these people. Have you anything to offer?” Admiral Gull said.
“No offense to my esteemed colleagues from the Fleet, but if I saw a ship flying a course cutting through our space, the first thing I'd think of to myself is 'Oh! It's a trap!' On the other hand, you have to think that if they believe someone is fishing in their pond, that they won't have any choice -- they have to go after it. If it was up to me, Admiral sir, now and again I'd have some buddies hiding in the bushes at the destination end of a course.”
He then literally curled up his lip. “I can see the philosophy behind giving this ship one Blue and four missiles. Oh, the laser can recharge in a minute, and the ship can fire all four missiles at once. The idea is to convince the crew to run, not fight. But no offense, I wouldn't be caught dead in a ship that size with such a pitiful defense. This had to be a dirty-foot BuShips design from someone who has never, ever, been in a bar fight.”
“I don't know if we can justify the time it would take to modify the vehicle,” Admiral Gull replied.
“Why spend any time on it at all?” Captain Drake came right back. “We're finishing about three defense modules a day. Those modules have eight blues and twenty-four blue missiles each. They have two fusion generators and enough fuel to run them for a week of nearly continuous firing. We have magazine modules with twenty-four additional missiles that can be quickly reloaded. It would take a day, maybe less, to add two defensive modules and another day to integrate some magazines. A good part of that could be done by yard dogs aloft, while Pixie's crew were parameterizing things.”
Admiral Gull nodded. “I have to say, the armament doesn't match the importance of the mission. See to it, Captain Drake. Try to have zero impact on the mission's timeline.”
“Ensign Roeser, do you have anything to add?”
“Thank you on the weapons, sir. As the gunny said, the intent is clear... but I've read the reports that Rome produced after their two deployments, and after the Big Battle. The way to beat these aliens is bring everything you've got to the table -- and then it's not a sure thing. You need every advantage you can get.”
“And your mission planning, Mr. Roeser?”
“Ensign Rhodes described our best efforts.” He paused and glanced at Cindy. “Admiral, Gunny Hodges is an Ozark; a great many of the Ozarks carry a belt knife and they whittle. She was watching the gunny start on a block of wood that he was going to carve into an eagle. The idea of the cuts around the edges -- that's her work, sir.” He cleared his throat. “I know that it's important that officers like Ensign Rhodes survive and that we should protect them. But not at all costs.
“She's growing, Admiral. Day by day, she's growing. Her math is a rusty bucket with a great many holes, but each day her fundamental understanding of the Fleet and our mission becomes more solid -- and she is uncommonly able to extract relationships that no one else -- or few others -- would catch. I'm selfish, sir. I want to come home after this mission. I want to resume my interrupted career in Fleet Aloft... and I personally take a great deal of satisfaction and comfort knowing that Ensign Rhodes has my back.”
“She understands fundamental relationships, eh?” the admiral said, smiling. “That's good. Captain Hall, you have a ship to run. I do believe the right person to supervise the yard changes would be your XO.”
He looked around. “I can't help but think that in our own way, out on the Rim, the Fleet has gotten education wrong. This reminds me of the days when hand-held calculators first came into use. The first models were expensive, and mainly the province of engineers and scientists. They replaced the 'slipstick' -- the slide rule -- in a year.
“The price steadily ratcheted down, until thirty years later simple calculators were given away. Educators, concerned that kids would learn to push buttons and not know how to add two and two without the machine, insisted on teaching the old way. Well, the fact is, that the math is great and wonderful, and adds a level of understanding to the universe that people who know it wouldn't otherwise have --- but is it necessary to know more than which buttons to push to get an answer?
“Ship's computers have advanced a long ways; they can compute most things in a millisecond that would take humans days or weeks to figure. Don't get me wrong, I think people should still learn the math -- but only as the spirit moves them. Maybe it's time we concentrated on understanding the broader concepts and not worry so much about the
fiddling details.”
He paused again. “Maybe we need three levels of watch certification... not the current two. First we require fundamental understanding of the components of a job, then we require understanding of the specifics... including in-depth math. Perhaps we should split the last level of certification in half -- understanding the specifics, but leave the math for an advanced certificate.”
He chuckled. “I've had to sweat the math since I was a little tyke.”
He pointed at Captain Drake. “You get with BuShips and get them moving. Tell them this has priority over anything else; have whoever they give the job to get with Ensign Rhodes to coordinate things. Then get with Captain Hall and work out a preliminary training schedule.”
“Aye, aye, Admiral,” the two captains chorused.
“Sir, may I have a word?” Cindy asked.
“Of course, Ensign.”
“In the papers we sent you I have a report that I wrote on the inadequacies of my schooling. Captain Hall counseled me that all of my teachers shouldn’t be shot; I’m not sure if I agree. Something needs to be done about education on a fundamental level.”
“I’ll read it, Ensign. Just now, you need to focus on this job.”
Chapter 10 -- BuShips
Cindy straightened up, trying to work out the kinks in her back. She had spent two hours trying to learn everything she could about the design and construction of Pixie -- and it hadn't been much. True, there was a considerable fraction of the information that, six months before she wouldn't have understood -- but there was an equally large fraction that was still over her head.
Pixie whispered in her head that the BuShips officer was about to arrive and so Cindy turned to face the hatch to the compartment. It was a measure of how far she'd come that she was prepared to put up with any dirty-foot Portie foolishness that would come her way.