Dreadnought

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by Thorarinn Gunnarsson


  “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 a
round 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.”

  “But the Dreadnought can use its own scanners effectively through this shield,” Daerran pointed out.

  “How can it?” Tarrel asked.

  “There seems to be only one way to make that work. The Dreadnought’s shield already pulses at a certain frequency. All shields do, since it is that wavefront pattern that deflects the bolts of cannon fire. At a high enough frequency and intensity, it will also break up active scanner beams. At an even more intense level, it has the same effect even on light. But the Dreadnought knows the frequency of its shield, and it knows the corresponding frequency for an achronic beam that will slip through the wave troughs. It is a shutter that opens and closes thousands of times every second. From the outside, it appears constantly closed. From the inside, constantly open. Does everyone follow me so far?”

  “From a distance,” Tarrel remarked drily, and several of the others seemed to agree with her.

  “If the secrets of the universe were easy, there would be no justification for experts,” Dalvaen explained. “Unfortunately, knowing all of this does not give us what we would like to have. Let me show you on the simulation what we have so far. This is an application of what Captain Tarrel did to get the only clear scanner reading of the Dreadnought we have so far. She hit it with so much energy that just enough of the proper frequency and intensity was bounced back by the Dreadnought’s shield. We have developed a special high-intensity achronic scanner pulse which we propose to call an impulse scanner. When the pulse strikes the surface of the shield, it is absorbed in the same manner. But at that same moment, achronic resonance causes a signal of proportionally smaller strength and frequency to be bounced back. ”

  He set the simulation into motion. The carrier sent two pulses, and a target responded deep within the system.

  “No scanner lock,” one of the Starwolf Commanders observed.

  “No, we do not receive a clear signal of the target,” Dalvaen said. “All we get is a ghost reflection of the shield itself. It is perfectly accurate to location, size and distance, but it still gives us no detail about anything within the shield. It cannot, since the signal never penetrated the shield. It was easy enough to guess how to do this, since the Dreadnought did it to the Kerridayen after failing to find her on normal scan. You can find those pulses in the Kerridayen’s records, but there was no reason for the ship’s computers to consider it relevant information at the time. ” “Unfortunately, there are three deficiencies with this system. The first is that it gives you no information about the target itself. Because the pulse generates its response by interacting with the shield, it cannot reach through the shield to the ship within. Secondly, you will only want to use the impulse scanner very sparingly. The interaction of the pulse with the shield can be detected. The Dreadnought will sometimes know that it is being scanned, and the side of the shield reacting to scan indicates the general direction of the source of the scan. You can see it, but it will know to begin looking for you.' The third problem is that there might not be a better way to do this, since the Dreadnought used the same system itself.”

  “You used the word ‘sometimes,’ ” Daerran observed. “Just how often does it become aware of the scan?”

  “Our simulation is designed to respond to impulse scan by returning scan,” the researcher explained. “The simulated Dreadnought returns scan only twenty-one percent of the time.

  However, we expect the real thing to be much more sensitive to scan by an unknown factor.”

  “Could it see through normal stealth intensity shields, or would it get the same ghost reflection?” Daerran asked.

  “The simulation tells us that it receives only the reflection,” Dalvaen answered. “Perhaps it does not yet know what a Starwolf carrier looks like.”

  “It knows already,” Daerran reminded him. “We lost our shields before it was over.”

  Fleet Commander Asandi nodded absently. “Very well, then. Yo
u have a working model. How soon can you design working hardware?”

  “We anticipate two hard days of work, if we let the computers do most of the general design for us,” Dalvaen said, having prepared his answer to that important question already. “The next question is, do we build a working model to scale and test it aboard a smaller ship, or do we go ahead with the fitting of a carrier?”

  Asandi considered that only briefly. “We test it on a carrier. If it works, we’re ahead that much. If not, we lose very little. How soon can construction and actual fitting of the device be completed?”

  “That depends entirely upon the ship,” the Kelvessan said, as if he already anticipated some problem with his answer. “This is a major refitting, requiring extensive opening of the hull around the nose and all through the ventral groove. We have to make major modifications to the scanner computers and rebuild the surveillance station on the bridge. We even have to go into the ship’s core computer, and you know what that involves. Expect four to five weeks on an existing carrier.”

  “Existing seems to be the relevant word,” Asandi observed. “We could manage the conversion in half the time on the Methryn. Her hull is still open at every important point, and she was built with a number of modifications that make her computer grid more versatile. We can tie the new systems directly into the network. The parts can be installed as quickly as they can be made, perhaps nine days, and another week to close the hull.” Asandi turned to one of the Starwolf Commanders. “Is the Methryn ready to fly, Commander Gelrayen?”

  “We were going to take our time closing up, perhaps another four weeks,” he replied. “By foregoing simulations and an extended trial run, we could do it. But I do not have to point out to you the disadvantages.”

  “We will discuss it,” Asandi said, then turned back to Dalvaen. “Prepare designs for the Methryn, the Kerridayen and one of the flight-ready ships in port. We’ll have a decision on which ship to refit first in a couple of hours at most. Could you join myself and the Commanders in my office in a (quarter of an hour?”

 

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