"We can't afford the time. The Admiral is depending on us. The entire GA is depending on us."
"It has to be a simple— a simple…"
"A simple what, Ernesto?"
"I just had a thought. I don't think it could be— no, that can't be it."
"Tell us."
"You'll all laugh."
"We could all use a good laugh about now." She smiled and added, "So give us all a good laugh at your expense."
Commander Villanova made a wry face before saying, "Okay, I was just thinking about the Dakinium cradle."
"What about it?"
"Well, we have a lot of measuring equipment inside the hull by the cradle, and that equipment generates a bit of heat. I wondered if maybe the heat affected the Dakinium. You know, like in expansion and contraction. When we timed the release of the bomb, we didn't have any of that equipment by the cradle. Aw, the idea is nuts because everyone knows that nothing affects Dakinium."
Instead of laughing, everyone at the table was looking around at everyone else as they thought.
"The manufacturing tolerances are in microns, and the cradles are intended for use in the cold of space," DeWitt said. "A slight variance could possibly distort the cradle a minute amount and slow the ejection by eighteen nanoseconds. If the bomb hadn't released at all, the cradle would have been one of the first places we looked. But since it only dropped eighteen nanoseconds late, we didn't look at that possibility. What does everyone think?"
"I think we should take a serious look at it," one of the technicians said, "but maybe we should get some sleep first. I've been awake for over forty-two hours, and I'm not sure I could perform a proper test right now, Captain."
Captain DeWitt chuckled. "I'm not sure I could do any better right now. Okay, everyone, let's call it a night, or a morning, or whatever it is. We start again in ten hours."
Twelve hours later, all of the measuring equipment had been removed from the test cradle, and the bulkhead entrance from the interior area of the ship to the hull was sealed to ensure the interior environment wouldn't have an effect on the cradle and thus the release of the bomb.
At 1100 hours, the two ships were positioned for another test. Captain DeWitt gave the go-ahead and the test was performed as before.
When DeWitt asked for the result, Villanova said, "The dummy bomb dropped, Captain, but the signal is garbled so we haven't identified its location yet."
"What do you mean the signal is garbled? Garbled how?"
"The signal is extremely weak and intermittent. Captain Wilder suggests we backtrack to see if we can locate it."
"Permission granted."
"Aye, Captain. We'll report back when we locate it."
About ninety minutes later, Villanova reported, "Uh— we've found it, Captain."
DeWitt and her entire team aboard the Ohio were crowded into the conference room they had been using for their work area.
"Where is it?" DeWitt asked. "How close are we to the target?"
"You're never going to believe this, ma'am. It's in the cargo container that we were targeting."
"In it?" DeWitt said excitedly with unrestrained delight. "You mean it landed inside the cargo container?"
"Uh— not exactly. You'll have to see this to believe it. I have an image ready to send. Here it is."
The image that appeared on the large bulkhead monitor showed just the front half of the dummy bomb. It appeared to be sitting on a metal deck.
"What happened to the rest of it?" DeWitt asked. "I can only see the front half. It appears to be sitting on a cargo bay deck."
"Uh— no ma'am. I'm in an EVA suit inside the cargo container. The dummy bomb is stuck in a sidewall. If I go outside the container, I can show you the back half."
Captain DeWitt chuckled, and then started to laugh out loud. It was infectious and her team was soon laughing as well.
"Commander," DeWitt said when she got her laughing under control, "I want you to have an engineer cut the dummy out of that sidewall, leaving half a meter of intact sidewall all around the dummy. Then patch the hole so we can perform another test run."
"Aye, Captain. I'll report back when we've finished and we're back aboard the Tigris."
"DeWitt, out."
"Villanova, out."
Six hours later, the two small ships were ready for the third test. Excitement was high to see if they could duplicate the incredible results of the second test. This time, the signal was loud and clear, but it wasn't coming from inside the container. Immediately after the test, the new dummy was discovered to be four hundred seventy-two kilometers from the container. The excitement they had felt after the second test evaporated as they learned the result.
"Okay, everyone," Captain DeWitt announced to her teams, "it's not close enough to declare it successful, but it's close enough to offer encouragement that we're still in the ballgame. We have seven more dummy bombs loaded into the Tigris' cradles. We're going to perform seven more bombing runs nonstop. Between runs we'll locate the dummy that was just dropped, but we're not going to retrieve the dummies until we've completed all seven tests. Then the engineering teams will evaluate each drop in the conference room aboard the Ohio. Okay, let's get set up for bombing run four."
The seven additional tests produced varying results. The worst was over ten thousand kilometers from the target, and the best of the seven was just six meters from the container. While the Tigris recovered the nine dummy bombs, the engineers assembled to review all the collected data from each run.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Three
~ December 12th, 2287 ~
"I thought you might want to see the result of our second test, Admiral," Captain DeWitt said as Jenetta entered the hangar on South Island. The small base had been home to the Weapons Research and Development people for a number of months.
"I was impressed when I saw the numbers," Jenetta said as she stared at the dummy bomb that was still embedded in the section of cargo container removed from the target, "but seeing this is even more impressive."
"Unfortunately, it was just one of ten tests."
"But you also placed one just six meters from the container. Either of these two tests would have destroyed a targeted ship."
"Yes, but the results weren't consistent. We must do better than one in five."
"Still, it's impressive, Barbara. And with no other attack option open to us, it at least offers an opportunity to destroy enemy ships without sacrificing our people. Have you developed any ideas on how to improve the kill ratio?"
"We've studied the telemetry data until we can quote it in our sleep. It appears that everything works perfectly up to the point where the signal to release the bomb is sent. Having the first ship identify the target and send the release signal to a second ship appears to provide deadly accuracy, but the release is where the process seems to break down. With the first test, we were just eighteen nanoseconds off, and the bomb missed the target by fifty-two thousand, eight hundred fifty kilometers. We discovered the problem was the result of a minute expansion of the Dakinium cradle."
"Yes, that surprised me when I read the report. I'd always thought Dakinium was unaffected by heat or cold."
"Well, we are talking about just a micron of change. But it was enough to make a difference, and where you're talking nanoseconds, it doesn't take much. After reviewing the test data, we've decided that minute differences in bomb casing and cradles might be responsible. When we designed the bomb, we needed a way to eject it from the ship, so we used the principle of a ship's thruster to push it out. To ensure that the ship's Transverse Wave envelope was never in danger of failing due to a gap in Dakinium coverage, we built the thruster chamber into the bomb housing rather than into the cradle. The principal is sound, but the execution is imperfect. We're going to try increasing the air pressure in the thruster chamber to more forcibly eject the bomb. Rather than just pushing it out so it can pass beyond the Transverse Wave encapsulating the ship, we're going t
o launch it from the cradle in the hope that we can achieve a more consistent ejection release. We're also going to try using a special lubricating gel to create a better seal around the casing. We need to precisely control the pressure in the cradle to control the precise timing of the ejection."
"It sounds like a solid plan."
"We hope so. We're going out tomorrow to perform another series of tests."
"Barbara, as I look at this dummy bomb stuck inside a sidewall, I can't help but wonder how a real bomb will react to reintegration inside a deck or bulkhead once the Transverse Wave effect is lost."
"That's difficult to answer, Admiral, due to the many factors involved. We have discussed it at length since this test. We've been waiting anxiously to cut this dummy bomb apart to see how the casing material integrated with the composite material of the container's walls but have held off until you could view it. It seems to us that the physical properties of the bomb material around the point where it merged with the container material could be altered sufficiently enough to render the bomb inert. But we may never know until we can actually test the bombs on real ships. But first we need to get to a point where we can place the bombs where they need to be placed."
Jenetta simply nodded. "Barbara, you've done an incredible job so far and I know that if anyone can solve the problems, it's you and your team. I'm grateful that we have such intelligent and dedicated people on our side in this conflict."
"Thank you. Admiral."
"Good luck. I look forward to hearing the results of your next tests."
* * *
By the time Foster had awakened on the morning after assuming Strauss's identity, the body of the real Strauss had been reduced to mere bones in a bubbling liquid of dissolved flesh and soft tissue. Foster had then tossed a second small packet of chemicals into the tub to neutralize the further effects of the first packet. As the color of the liquid changed, an indication that the acidity had been reduced to a safe level, Foster carefully flushed the tub and bones clean of any residual chemicals. The skull and bones then went into a small case he had brought for that very purpose and were locked in a closet where the cleaning staff would be unable to access the case.
It was an entire week before the new Strauss felt confident enough to carry the case out of the building and place it into a locker at a shuttleport. It would remain there until he could shake his security staff long enough to take the bones to where they would be ground up and mixed with the bones and byproducts of animals used as filler in the making of pet food.
Days later, when Strauss was finally able to dispose of the evidence, he took the case to the processing center and witnessed the entire procedure through to completion. It cost him a thousand credits, but it was well worth it.
Despite intensive efforts to surreptitiously learn Strauss's daily routines prior to confronting and killing the man, situations had arisen which could have raised suspicions that all was not right and proper, but Foster's long years as a senior Raider official helped immensely in carrying him through.
Foster's first session as the chairperson of the Lower Council had gone very smoothly. He had the minutes from the previous meeting and his office computer contained the names, photos, and histories of the other members, including private little notes Strauss had made regarding unusual personality traits and emotional preoccupations. But Strauss's duties and responsibilities in the Raider organization were wide and varied, and the daily interpersonal relationships were the most difficult because so much of that interaction took place behind closed doors. But Foster had prevailed, and by the end of the first month he was performing in the role as if he had been doing it for years.
"Today's meeting will come to order," Chairman Gladsworth said, pounding the decorative gravel once. The other members stopped talking among themselves and gave the chairman their full attention. "We have a visitor today who is not authorized to hear Upper Council business, so we shall dispense with the reading of the minutes. I again welcome the chairperson of the Lower Council, Arthur Stephen Strauss. You have the floor, Mr. Chairman."
Strauss rose to his feet and looked at the assembled members. It was hard to believe that these were the founders of the Raider organization. As he looked around the table, all he saw were eight of the most drop-dead-gorgeous females he'd ever seen assembled in one room. All were stylishly coiffed and wearing expensive fashions that showed off their new bodies to maximum advantage. Strauss had been through that phase and was aware of the internal conflicts each was feeling as they dealt with suddenly finding themselves incredibly desirable after enduring the gradual diminishment of sexual appeal that lasted for decades. Each appeared to be no more than twenty-five years of age, showing that they had availed themselves of the DNA Manipulation process and the Age Regression process. He assumed they had also been administered the Age Prolongation process. The only real question was whether or not they wished to return to a male form. That was another dilemma Strauss had endured.
"Good morning. It's my unpleasant duty to report that the last of the four Upper Council members who suffered health problems related to their metamorphoses has passed away. Arrangements for funeral services are being made, and when complete, the UC secretary will notify each member should you wish to attend. On a more important note, the doctors continue to assure me that no sign of the problems suffered by the others has been observed in any of your physiologies.
"Thank you for allowing me to address you today."
* * *
"Today's tests will be conducted as if this were a real battle, Captains," Captain DeWitt said to Commanders Katherine Jameson and Dillon Wilder. Commander Jameson was in the conference room aboard the scout-destroyer Ohio, while Commander Wilder was participating via teleconference. "There will be ten drops of dummy bombs. We will run continuously, never stopping or dropping the envelopes. Once the Ohio helmsman assumes helm control of the Tigris, it should not be interrupted until the exercise is complete."
"I lose control of my ship until the entire test is complete?" Commander Wilder asked.
"Yes, because that’s the way it will be in battle for the ships performing as bombers. The lead ship will maintain helm control until the action is over. I do understand your concern about losing control of your ship, but you are only losing helm control, and only for a short time. Most space battles last under an hour, and I believe the power of this weapon will shorten that considerably. Additionally, in the event that a problem does occur, such as a communication malfunction with the lead ship, the bomber can break the connection with the lead ship and assume full control over its helm at any time. For that matter, either captain can break the connection at any time."
"Will you be at the tactical station today?" Commander Jameson asked.
"No, I'll be down here, monitoring the information coming from the shuttles performing the triangulation duties. Your tactical people are well trained and know what has to be done now. The only difference today is that after dropping a dummy bomb, the Ohio helmsman will complete a wide three-sixty to return to the original starting position and then attack the shipping container again until all ten runs have been completed. At that time we'll begin a review of the bombing effort and retrieve the dummy bombs.
"Any other questions?"
Both Commander Jameson and Commander Wilder shook their heads.
"Fine. I'll alert you when the ordnance people and the shuttle crews are ready. Dismissed."
When the Ohio's Captain said, "Tac, prepare to commence the run," the tactical officer engaged the system that locked the helm of the Ohio to the helm of the Tigris. Both ships had already moved into position, built their Transverse Wave envelopes, and issued system commands that would permit their helms to be unified under the control of the lead ship.
"Helms unification active," the Ohio tac officer said as the computers confirmed readiness. "The Tigris confirms."
"Helm, commence the run," Commander Jameson said.
In the Ohio conferenc
e room, Captain DeWitt and her senior team members watched real-time images of both ship's bridges provided by the bridge log cameras. Development of the new weapon system had seemed to progress slowly, but it was actually advancing at breakneck speed compared to the development of other such weapon systems in the past. The urgency was owed to the fact that Space Command knew an invasion was imminent, in fact already having occurred although the invaders hadn't yet begun their push through Region Two. Space Command needed this weapon system to be available and dependable before that happened.
"Attack run one commencing," Commander Ernesto Villanova said as the ships surged forward. Since they were moving FTL, there was no sensation of movement.
As the Ohio completed the run and began to turn for the second run, Commander Villanova received a message via his CT. "Villanova out," he said to cancel the carrier, then, "The first dummy dropped two meters before the target container."
"Two meters?" DeWitt said excitedly. "I'll take that every time."
Villanova smiled and said, "Let's not get too excited. It's just the first run. If the next one drops that close, then I'll get excited."
At the completion of the second run, Villanova announced, "The second dummy dropped twelve meters after the container."
"Twelve?" DeWitt echoed. "It's not two, but I consider anything within a radius of fifteen meters as a kill. Our destroyers have a beam of fifty-six meters, so a radius of fifteen would be sufficient to kill any of them. This small ship only has a beam of sixteen meters, but if you were to attack it longitudinally, a fifteen-meter radius would destroy it every time because its length is one hundred fifteen meters."
"From the estimates I've heard of the enemy ship sizes," Villanova said, "all we need is a drop radius of twenty meters to guarantee a kill when attacking from any direction."
"Yes, but let's keep to a higher standard for now. Fifteen meters should be our goal."
After the third run, the shuttles performing the triangulation reported that the dummy dropped just three meters from the target.
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