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Authors: Thorarinn Gunnarsson

BOOK: Dreadnought
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“If
you will excuse me for interrupting, it seems to me that your discussion has
reached the point that it would proceed best in your laboratories,” Asandi said
at last. “Have you in fact reached some consensus upon just what direction your
investigations should take?”

“We
believe that we have some idea of how to modify our scanners to see through
stealth-intensity shielding,” Dalvaen, the Kelvessen research leader, answered.
“We could have solved this problem long ago, except that there was never any
need. Only our own carriers have the ability to cloak themselves; even our
fighters cannot. As long as the Union never developed shielding technology to
that level, there was never any need.” “Then you can modify our present
scanners?”

Dalvaen
was hesitant to answer precisely. “We have a very sound idea that we are ready
to prove through advanced computer simulations. If it passes the computer
models, then we can attempt testing at scale. But I have no idea yet just how
much modification of our present scanners this will involve. My suspicions are
that these adaptations will be of a radical nature, requiring actual refitting
of the carrier.”

“Then
we should let your people get to work immediately and discover just how much
this will involve,” Asandi said. “I will have appropriations cleared for
anything you might require. But what about the question of weapons?”

The
Kelvessan sat back in his chair, seemingly a gesture of defeat on his part.
“Unfortunately, that is going to require some very serious thought before we
can propose any answers. I am curious about modifying our cannons to operate
more like the Dreadnought’s own discharge beams. That shield might then be
unable to simply deflect away the energy of our cannons, and we could overload
the shield. We also want to look into the possibility of designing auxiliary
shield projectors that could be carried within the holding bays and would step
up the ship’s own shielding capabilities to a level comparable to that of the
Dreadnought, modified to deflect its discharge beams the way that our present
shields deflect regular cannon bolts. Being able to look inside the
Dreadnought’s shields might tell us what we need to know. But I am afraid that
we do not have any quick answers to this problem.”

Asandi
nodded. “I will send a message to the Union telling them to expect this matter
to take some time. For us, it is time to get to work.”

The
meeting was adjourned, and Captain Tarrel was left to wonder what she was to do
now. Commander Daerran had told her.that she would no longer stay aboard the
Kerridayen, since the damaged carrier would not be going out again for several
weeks. But she did not yet know if they proposed to send her out again as an
advisor aboard some other ship or if she was to stay there at the station until
the Starwolves were ready to try their new weapons in battle, and she doubted
that such a test would be coming anytime soon.

As
she hesitated, Fleet Commander Asandi walked over to join her. “I was wondering
if you would prefer to send that message to Sector Commander Lake yourself. Or
perhaps I should first ask if you are satisfied that we are doing enough?” “It
sounds to me as if you really are doing your best,” she assured him. “In as far
as I was able to understand any of it, that is.”

Asandi
smiled fondly. “The Kelvessan really are such dear people. They tend to forget
that mere humans like ourselves are not as quick as they are, either in mind or
body. If you wish, you might be more satisfied with their progress when they
have something to show from their computer simulations. I have to admit that I
probably don’t understand any better than you just what they have in mind.”

“Do
you suppose that I could look at their computer models as soon as they have
something to show?” Tarrel asked as they stepped out into the corridor to
return to the tram.

“Yes,
certainly,” he agreed without the slightest hesitation. “Then you would prefer
to wait and send your message as soon as you are sure that we are on to
something concrete?”

“No,
I should have a look at my new orders and send a reply at once,” she said.
“I’ve been out of touch a long time, and I should be reporting in. I can send a
more detailed report later. I suppose that I’ll be sending a long-range
achronic message through your own equipment?”

“We
have a carrier standing by at the Vinthra Military complex that can receive and
relay long-range messages. That might not seem very private, at least not for a
diplomat, but it is the best we can do since your own achronic transceivers
have a limited range.”

“That
should be just fine, really,” Tarrel insisted. “I want Sector Commander Lake to
send me a detailed report of every attack by the Dreadnought since its battle
with the Kerridayen, unless they’ve been sending you that information already.”

As
it turned out, Lake had been giving the Starwolves detailed reports of those
attacks, probably under the assumption that they had been making their own
observations. And since they had, Captain Tarrel was able to read both sets of
reports. Either the Starwolves saw more, or they wrote much better reports.

Things
had gone generally from bad to much worse. After the fight with the Kerridayen,
the Dreadnought had disappeared completely for several days before appearing
halfway across Union space and beginning a new pattern of attack. This new
pattern was much more difficult to predict; the Dreadnought now appeared to be
making a large and apparently random change of location after every three
attacks. Having met Starwolves once, it seemed to have decided to make itself a
little harder to find, and it was apparently not quite as stupid as Trendaessa
Kerridayen had expected. Captain Tarrel agreed with the Starwolves’ own
assumption that the single greatest factor in the Dreadnought’s change of
tactics was because the Union had been anticipating its movements and
evacuating the traffic from the systems in its path.

She
meant to make an issue of her belief in her message to Sector Commander Lake.
One thing that she could not see in these reports, but anticipated just the
same, was the pettiness of the Sector Families. The Starwolves were unable to
stop the Dreadnought or turn its attacks, at least not fast enough for the
Trade Companies and their masters who were losing property and profits to this
menace, and no doubt chaffing under the terms of the truce. She was the only
one able to see what the Starwolves were actually doing, and she had to keep
the Union pacified by reporting that they were indeed doing their best. Her
concern was really not so much for the Union; the Sector Families and Company
tyrants could chew their misfortune raw and without salt for all that she was
concerned. But she did not want their grumbling to discourage the Starwolves,
who had every reason to let the Dreadnought eat the Union alive.

As
far as that went, there remained a part of her that was still cynical enough to
find it hard to believe that the Starwolves were willing to put themselves to
such trouble for their ancient enemies, even admitting that the Union was in as
much danger as they believed. She could agree that they had never wanted the
collapse of Terran civilization, or they would have destroyed the Union
themselves long ago. But she also suspected that they wanted to find some way
to defeat the Dreadnought while the fighting could be done in Union space. The
Republic apparently held only a bare handful of worlds, their only support, and
the Dreadnought could run through them in a matter of days as matters stood
now. Tarrel could see that her primary importance was as the grease that would
keep the axle and the wheel from squeaking, and the duties and powers granted
to her in diplomatic charter suggested that Sector Commander Lake had convinced
the Union High Council to use her in that very capacity.

She
composed her initial report and sent it out, then she allowed herself to be
escorted to her apartment in the visitor’s quarters of the government section
of the station. She thought that the Republic must entertain visitors no more
often than once in a thousand years, so she was glad to see that someone had
been sent up to clean the place first. There was certainly no reason for
complaint with these rich and spacious lodgings, except that she was not used
to being treated like an esteemed dignitary; she was reminded of Victor Lake’s
apartments in the Vinthra Military complex.

Lt.
Commander Pesca had been installed in the adjoining chamber reserved for the
aide or valet, a promotion to another position in which he might prove his
incompetence. He popped out of his own room as soon as he heard her come in.

“Captain,
I’ve discovered the most amazing thing!” he declared, running over with
enthusiasm. “I think that it might be some kind of big conspiracy. When they
were bringing me here, I saw real people in this station. Humans. You know,
like us.” “Since when did you pass the entrance requirements?” she asked
peevishly, in no mood for foolishness. She was trying to make some
determination about procuring food. “I became aware of that odd fact some hours
ago. For that matter, I already know that there is no conspiracy, and that
there are in fact more humans here than Starwolves.”

“Well,
what are they doing here?” he protested. “This is Starwolf space!”

“This
is the Republic.”

“But
there is no Republic.”

“Starwolf
space is the Republic. Don’t they teach you children anything in the Sector
Academy these days?” She opened a cabinet and found a bar, but nothing she
wanted. “Do they feed us around this place?”

“You
can call for catering on the wall com,” Pesca suggested helpfully. “They put up
a menu on the monitor. The number is fifteen thirty-seven.”

Trust
Wally to know all the important things. She went over to the unit on the wall
by the main door and put in the number he had given her, and she was rewarded
with a menu. “How goes the linguistics?”

“Frustrating,”
he answered dismally. “They never will speak their own language.”

“You
might as well give that a rest for now,” Tarrel said. “Terran is the official
language of the Republic, or at least the station. I’ve spent my morning
speaking Diplomacy. It’s just like Terran, except that you sound like an
educated ass and you get a headache from trying to figure out what you’ve said,
much less what the other guy said. But that’s easy compared to the language
used by scientists. Just one question, Mister Linguist. What do you suppose a
chicken would be?”

“A
small bird from old Terra, as I recall. Khoran hens replaced them in popularity
long ago.”

Tarrel
looked amused. “We really are in the Republic, aren’t we?”

“What
do chickens have to do with all of this?” Pesca asked.

“They
seem to be on the menu.”

 

When
Kelvessan put their minds to it, they were enormously clever little
problem-solvers. They had a computer simulation ready for demonstration only
twelve hours later. Dalvaen, the director of the research team, explained that
putting together the theories was a great deal easier than finding ways to
implement those theories. At least this group was neither as large nor as
formal as their first meeting had been. Fleet Commander Asandi collected
Captain Tarrel and escorted her to the demonstration. Other members of the military
staff and the Commanders of the carriers presently in port were also there, but
that was about it other than the researchers.

“Do
you trust these simulations completely?” Tarrel asked. “You really don’t have a
lot of information on which to base your models.”

“It
might seem that way,” Dalvaen agreed. “However, we can infer how that shield
works very exactly from the information we do have, because there is only one
practical model which fits those clues. I would say that our model is accurate
to within ninety-five percent, probably better. What we lack is the time to
learn how to re-create the technology which projects that shield, or find the
additional information we need to learn how to defeat it.”

“Then,
in military terms, we would say that the probability that your model is
accurate is so high that it would not justify the time needed to obtain
additional information and proofs.”

Dalvaen
finally seemed to understand her approach to looking at the problem. “Let me
put it this way. The information that we have was obtained the hard way by
yourself and by the Kerridayen. We will now exploit that information into
advantages that will allow us to obtain more information about our enemy, which
in turn will give us new advantages. Taking this in a series of steps, we will
eventually be stronger than it is.”

Tarrel
nodded. “In other words, there are no quick answers: We have to do this the
hard way from start to finish. Please, proceed.”

Dalvaen
indicated the main monitor. “For the purposes of this simulation, we have
encapsulated the projection of a Union battleship, expanded in size to a length
of nearly twelve kilometers, within a shield exactly like the one we believe
the Dreadnought possesses. That ship is moving through the simulated star
system you see on this monitor, presently unseen either visually or by scan.
Our point of view on this monitor is that of the main screens aboard a carrier
fitted with enhanced scanners. At the moment, we are trying to locate our
Dreadnought with ordinary scanners. As you can see, we have no contacts.”

He
turned to a second monitor. “Let me show you something here. This is what we
believe happens when light or scanner beams contact the Dreadnought’s shield.
The beam is not immediately neutralized at the point of contact, but captured
within a layer of the shield where it travels like waves on the surface of calm
water. The shield captures the beam and holds it until it can be absorbed.”

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