by David Drake
A starship's sails were thin, metalized fabric carrying a minute, very precise charge determined by the astrogation computer. The sails acted to deflect a portion of the Casimir radiation which was the only true constant throughout the infinite bubble universes. The pressure of Casimir radiation didn't drive the ship, but it shifted it within the Matrix from one bubble to another. In each universe the local constants of mass, distance, and velocity differed from those of the sidereal universe—the only one in which human beings could exist.
The theory was simple; the practice required the greatest precision to which human beings could aspire. Any input—a low-power radio intercom, the magnetic field of an electric motor or even of a control cable—would distort the bubble the sails had formed and send the vessel—somewhere, elsewhere; probably distant, possibly distant beyond calculation. All the machinery on the hull had to be hydraulic or mechanical, and the riggers communicated by hand signals and semaphore rather than radio.
The yard beneath Daniel's boots began to rotate; it would move 15 degrees clockwise, as he knew from reading the semaphores himself. The gears rumbled at a low note with an occasional jerk.
Daniel sighed and reached for his safety line to snap it onto a nearby shackle. He shouldn't have been on the hull without a handhold or a coupled line, nobody should. He wasn't a rigger, and he wasn't just a midshipman either: he was captain of this vessel, and if he drifted away to spend eternity in a universe of his own, Cutter 614 and its personnel would be put at risk.
And yet, and yet. . . .
He was Daniel Leary, an astrogator whose feel for a course was gaining him a reputation to rival that of his uncle, Stacey Bergen. That instinctive understanding didn't just happen; it came because Daniel made himself a part of the ship and a part of the cosmos through which the ship voyaged.
Daniel chuckled, alone in his helmet. Instead of fixing his line, he gripped an antenna stay and slid down it to the hull, still laughing. This'd be the last transit before the cutter returned to sidereal space in the Lantos System, so he needed to be at his post in the command console.
There was an intangible benefit to Daniel behaving as if the hull of a starship in the Matrix was no more dangerous than the Admiral's Cabin on a battleship: the riggers respected him. That wasn't a small thing, given the places he'd had to send those riggers in the past—and would send them again, for as long as he lived and served in the RCN.
The airlock was empty. Daniel spun the undogging wheel which slid a red indicator across a panel in the inner hatch, then stepped inside and closed the chamber. In larger vessels the airlock could hold eight or more hard-suited riggers at a time, but in the cutter there was room only for six—and that because they were willing to pack in tighter than was safe in event of a malfunction. If safety was your prime concern, you didn't become a rigger.
Air pressure was still building in the chamber when the cutter transited, slipped from one bubble universe to another. For a moment, Daniel felt as though his body'd been turned inside out—that his eyeballs were staring at one another and the outer darkness of the void pressed against his bone marrow; then the ship was through. The inner hatch opened onto the cramped, familiar cabin of Cutter 614, and he was grinning at the faces of spacers he'd served with for years by now.
"How's it look, sir?" Cadescas asked, looking up from the shell she was scrimshawing with a short-bladed folding knife.
Barnes took the helmet Daniel'd removed in the airlock and two other spacers of the starboard, off-duty, watch started throwing the catches of his suit before he could get to them himself. It wasn't necessary, but it made them happy so he didn't object. . . .
"Well, Cadescas . . ." he said, speaking to be heard by all those within the cabin. "If I'm reading the sky out there correctly, we've just beaten the record run from Yang to Lantos by a good six hours."
He grinned broader. "And a very good time for that piece of history, I'm happy to say."
Daniel settled into his console and began making notes that he'd forward to the Mapping Section of the Navy Office when the next dispatch vessel left for Xenos. Machines couldn't chart the Matrix—only human astrogators could, putting down their impressions of the streams and whorls of energy beyond the bubble which a starship's own sails formed about it. These observations made it possible to judge a ship's position relative to the sidereal universe without dropping into that universe to take star-sightings. The latter process required over an hour for a skilled astrogator with a crew that knew its business; less fortunate vessels might take the better part of a day.
By a combination of skill and art, Lieutenant Daniel Leary had shortened the run from Yang to Lantos considerably—if when they dropped into sidereal space shortly they found they really were in the Lantos System, of course. Since a few minutes remained before Cutter 614 reinserted, Daniel would write up his observational notes in the hope that they'd prove accurate. If they didn't, well, he could provide later vessels with details of a course that'd led him astray.
He chuckled.
"Daniel?" Adele said over their two-way link. "Good news?"
"Ah," Daniel said in mild embarrassment. "Ah, please don't spread this around, Adele, but it just occurred to me that if I took us onto a false course and lost us time—possibly days or weeks of time—I'm actually more likely to survive to send the information to the Mapping Section. I'm not sure which I should hope for."
"I see why you laughed," Adele said, meaning more than the words themselves. "Personally I wouldn't bet against your navigation, nor would anyone else on the cutter. But is it certain that the Hermes will be on Lantos when we arrive?"
Daniel shrugged, closing the file with his notes and bringing up a schematic of the Lantos System—six planets around a yellow sun. The fifth, Lantos itself, was inhabited, and there was a certain amount of mining for fullerenes occurring naturally in the asteroid belt between the fifth and sixth worlds.
More to the point, those asteroids provided bases for pirate vessels which could be supplied by intra-system traders who claimed to be servicing the miners. Because the Lantos System was roughly central among the Burdock Stars, both pirates and anti-pirate operations tended to concentrate there.
"Nothing's certain, no," Daniel agreed, "but Captain Slidell's a very punctilious man. The Standard Operating Procedure for anti-pirate operations here is for the tender to orbit Lantos, touching the surface as needed to replenish air and reaction mass. The cutters operate around Lantos and in neighboring systems—just as the pirates themselves do, of course—and rendezvous with the tender every week or so. It's a perfectly good plan, and I don't see Mr. Slidell varying it on whim."
He pursed his lips as he considered another possibility. "Now, it's possible that the Hermes won't have reached Lantos, that's true," he admitted. "Things can go wrong with even a well-found vessel. But Slidell's a very able officer, and he'll be on his mettle to prove himself after the problems with the Bainbridge cruise. I'd be very surprised if the Hermes hasn't been on station for at least three days."
A red starburst at the top of his display formed itself into the figures 30 and began to count down. "Ship, this is Six," Daniel said, his voice calm but anticipation making him grin broadly. "Prepare to extract from the Matrix in . . . fifteen seconds. Over."
Several spacers cheered. Daniel knew that somebody'd cheer if he announced he was setting a course for Hell. It was good that his crew trusted him, though it concerned him that they trusted him so much farther than he thought was reasonable.
Cutter 614 dropped into the sidereal universe. The experience affected individuals in various ways and the same person variously on different occasions. This time Daniel felt for an instant as though he'd been compressed and shoved through a pinhole, then allowed to expand on the other side.
It was uncomfortable, but many things were uncomfortable. And it was over more quickly than, say, being caught by an autumn cloudburst when you're three miles from your hunting cabin.
Someo
ne toward the rear of the cabin was retching. The cutter's crew were entirely veteran spacers, so there was nothing to be ashamed of. The next time it might be Daniel himself.
The cabin illumination was the same whether Cutter 614 was in the Matrix or sidereal space, but the light looked, felt, richer than it had an instant before. Daniel brought up a Plot Position Indicator on his screen, but before he could more than begin to scan it Adele's voice said, "Captain, I've identified the Hermes and am training a laser communicator on her. Do you wish to send a message? Over."
A blue highlight pulsed softly over one of the blips on the PPI. He'd seen Adele do that before; she'd explained it was a matter of setting her equipment to scan for RF signals unique to a particular vessel, particularly the precise frequency at which that ship's High Drive motors cycled. It still seemed to him to be the next thing to magic.
"Yes, if you would," Daniel said, deciding what he needed to explain openly to Slidell before he and the Captain could discuss Daniel's proposed solution in private. He cleared his throat.
"RCS Hermes," he said, "this is RCS Cutter 614. We'll be making our final approach through the Matrix shortly and will dock as soon as possible. I recommend the entire flotilla be recalled immediately, as we've sighted the approach of a substantial Alliance convoy which will require immediate action. 614 over."
Daniel paused. Did that sound too directive? Well, it was no more than the bald truth.
His fingers began keying in the commands that would lift the cutter through the Matrix for most of the remaining 600,000 miles to the Hermes. It was a short hop; Daniel suspected he'd have it set up before Slidell decided how to reply.
It'd be a pity if Slidell was offended, but Daniel was nonetheless quite sure that this was no time for anything but the truth.
CHAPTER 22
Lantos System
Daniel'd donned his 1st Class uniform before boarding the tender, but he didn't need Hogg's clucks and grimace to tell him that what'd he'd put the garment through on Yang hadn't been to the white fabric's benefit. There was also the problem that the cutter didn't have bathing facilities, and Yang certainly wasn't a place to shower.
He'd thought of cleaning up aboard the Hermes before seeing Captain Slidell, but they really needed all the time they could get—and probably then some. Maybe Slidell'd make allowances for the fact that Daniel'd made himself as presentable as he could by wearing his Dress Whites.
He grinned despite his determination to maintain a serious mien. Probably not, but maybe.
"Welcome back, sir!" a Power Room technician said cheerfully as they passed in opposite directions along the A Deck corridor. The fellow's name was Melies; he was a former Sissie.
Spacers from the Bainbridge whom Daniel'd seen since his return were quiet and even worried looking. They dropped their eyes to avoid meeting Daniel's.
The one blessing in all this was that four cutters hung in their davits before 614 docked; 612 was the only one missing. The number of available cutters wouldn't matter if Slidell accepted Daniel's plan, or at any rate wouldn't matter to Daniel; but they provided more choices, even if none of those choices was a particularly good one.
The Captain's office on the Hermes was a two-cabin suite on A Deck, adjoining the bridge. There was a screened latrine in an inside corner and the desk folded down into a bunk so the suite could be used as a watch cabin when the captain expected trouble and didn't want to be too far from the bridge.
"One moment, Lieutenant," said Orly, seated at the desk in the outer office. "The Captain asked me to announce you. He's with Lieutenant Ganse."
He touched the commo switched and murmured something concealed by the cancellation field. Orly wore a vaguely hopeful expression rather than the nervous twitch he'd demonstrated when Daniel first met him in Harbor Three. Daniel wondered if he'd been talking to Sissies; that seemed more likely than that Slidell himself had begun speaking more positively about his XO to his secretary in the days since he'd sent Daniel off to Yang.
"Go on in, sir," Orly said after a moment, then flashed a sheepish smile.
Daniel was ready to accept anything he could as a good omen. He squared his shoulders and entered, pulling the hatch to behind him.
"Sir!" he said, with what might've been his best salute in the past year. "Lieutenant Leary reporting!"
"Then report, Leary," Slidell said in a grim voice. "Did you carry out your mission?"
Ganse pursed his lips and looked from Daniel to the Captain. He and Slidell were seated at the desk. There were two more chairs in the office, but Slidell hadn't told Daniel to take one.
"Yes sir, we did," Daniel said, shifting his right foot the regulation half pace to the side. He hadn't even been told to stand easy, but he decided that to hold the First Lieutenant at attention while the Second Lieutenant sat would be excessively insulting, even for Slidell. "The Cinnabar citizens are on their way here in a chartered transport. The particulars are in my formal report and can wait, but I'd like to tell you critical information that Signals Officer Mundy obtained in the course of gaining the prisoners' release."
"You did it?" Lieutenant Ganse blurted in amazement. "By God, Leary, that's good work!"
"You hired a transport?" Slidell said almost simultaneously. "How in blazes did you do that, Leary? If you've been exceeding your authority—"
"Not at all, sir," Daniel said, ignoring Ganse and deliberately misinterpreting the Captain's question. "A firm of Cinnabar factors on Yang was very helpful in effecting the release of their fellow citizens. But in the course of carrying out Admiral Milne's orders, we learned through captured communications that the insurgents on Yang are in league with the Alliance. They've a base under construction on Big Florida Island and—"
"How did you capture Alliance communications?" Slidell said. He'd spread his hands with his arms forward on the desk like a cat tensing to pounce. "Good God, Leary, if this is some kind of jape I'll send you back to Xenos in irons!"
"Sir, there's a twelve-ship Alliance convoy heading for the base being constructed on Yang," Daniel said, keeping his voice calm. Any superior officer would've had difficulty assimilating this information. Slidell's active hostility was regrettable, but it changed only the tone of the briefing. "The logbook of the courier vessel we damaged there didn't have a manifest of their cargoes, but common sense suggests a shipment of that size includes a planetary defense array as well as a considerable garrison. The escort is the heavy cruiser Scheer with the destroyers Z17 and Z21."
"Logbooks are in code, aren't they, Leary?" Ganse asked. He obviously couldn't understand how what Daniel was saying could be true, though he was trying to. "I didn't think they could be read until the boffins back in Xenos had been over them."
He frowned. "Or maybe Sinmary Port, I grant," he added.
"Captain," said Daniel, calmly but earnestly, "my Signals Officer has some experience with this sort of thing, as I believe you know. She was able to decode the material, though I should note that she didn't understand the significance since she doesn't have astrogation training. The courier left the convoy fifteen days ago, at an uninhabited system listed as CZ 486455 in RCN charts. If they—"
"Wait!" Slidell said, not raising his voice excessively but certainly making clear who was in charge. "You say your friend Mundy did this all by herself? Then it hasn't been checked. How do we know she's right? Or even that she hasn't made the whole thing up!"
Ganse drew in his breath. Daniel closed his eyes for a moment. He had to find the correct words or there'd be a bad result—for Cinnabar, for Adele, and particularly for Captain Slidell.
"Sir," Daniel said. Slidell looked slightly abashed, as though he hadn't known what he was going to say till the words rang in his own ears. "I'm an RCN officer first and foremost; the needs of the service are my main concern, as I know they are yours. But Officer Mundy . . ."
His tongue touched his lips. He was afraid the Captain might try to interrupt, but that didn't happen.
"She's a g
reat asset to the RCN and the Republic, of course," Daniel continued, "but at core she's still Mundy of Chatsworth. She wouldn't hesitate a heartbeat to resign her warrant in order to pursue a matter touching the honor of her House."
Daniel hoped Slidell understood what he was saying. He hoped further that the Captain had heard enough about Adele's marksmanship to understand what a duel with her would mean.
Both those things were probably true, but from Slidell's sudden grimace Daniel suspected that it was the man's innate courtesy which caused him to say, "I misspoke, Leary. But the most scrupulously honest person may make a mistake."
"I agree, sir," Daniel said, taking a deep breath now that his chest muscles had relaxed enough to permit it. "Though as a personal observation I'd note that Officer Mundy makes fewer mistakes than most people. Be that as it may, the data themselves are too complex to be coincidental, and Officer Mundy doesn't have enough knowledge of astrogation to have unconsciously biased those data in the process of decoding."
Slidell clenched his right hand into a fist. "Yes, I see that," he said, glaring at his own knuckles. He raised his eyes to meet Daniel's. "You understand my disinclination to go haring off back to Sinmary Port crying 'Wolf!' and having the whole business turn out to have been a mistake, I'm sure?"
"The Scheer . . ." Ganse said in a tone of grim musing. "I wonder how quickly the Cornelwood'll be able to lift? Not quickly enough, I'd judge. Even if the Scheer wasn't thirty years newer. Of course we're RCN."
"Sir?" Daniel said. "I believe there's an alternative to summoning the squadron from Nikitin. Well, an addition to that—obviously we need to inform Admiral Milne as well. I had an additional several days to consider the matter on the voyage from Yang, you see. Might I use your display, sir?"