“Lieutenant Farmer is right,” Tin Tin said, “There is no way to get permission to do a human experiment with fan transitions that short.” He nodded at Cindy. “Okay, you aren't affected like the rest of us. Still, we're talking something on the order of a small nuclear weapon. A tenth of a percent leakage of a fire cracker isn't going to hurt. A tenth of a percent of a nuke would hurt. Even if Lieutenant Rhodes was unaffected, like as not the brass would have a cow at the risk.”
“And,” Lieutenant McVae went on, “there's the hardware downside. We were thinking that there was some sort of vibration that we couldn't normally detect that occasionally appears during fan transitions. We still haven't been able to duplicate it, but we have telemetry now on a couple of events where it's happened.
“No one has the least clue what triggers it, but there are times when a fan transition rings a ship's structure like some giant bell. There are all sorts of waveforms, and while some cancel out, some combine destructively.
“The best guess is that it has something to do with the length of time the ship has been under fan, what percentage of max power is being used -- there are a whole gamut of factors that make it difficult to characterize. Officially 'extremely short duration High Fan transitions are strongly discouraged.'”
“When Tam told me about that,” Cindy explained, “I thought maybe we should use an unmanned shuttle, with the controls on automatic, to seek out Master's Game.”
“Except a seeker head for a missile is a non-trivial task,” Tin Tin told them.
“Why?” Cindy asked. “If it goes left, the missile goes left... if it goes up, the missile goes up. What could be simpler?”
“Well, if you are perpetually following another ship's maneuvers, you'll never catch up,” Tin Tin told her. “And then there's the matter of distinguishing friend from foe. Once you start getting into the decision tree it expands too rapidly for simple analysis.”
“No wonder the missiles don't work!” Cindy said heatedly. “You're making it too complicated. You need sensors capable of making sure the missile is locked on the right target. The sensors need to be able to detect course changes and then predict where the target will be thereafter. If the missile detects any thing untoward -- like a possible friendly ship has been targeted, it asks a human 'What should I do?' and in the meantime goes to tracking and pursuit only, without being able to detonate or fire.”
“We think the reason that they use such large warheads,” Tin Tin went on, “is that they can't predict target paths very well either. So they use a bomb large enough to pretty much make the matter moot if they even get close.
“Let me show you something.”
A picture appeared on one of the wall screens. It was a ship with a very strange shape -- it looked like someone had taken a couple dozen gas cylinders and welded them together into a cube.
“This is a long range image of one of their ships,” Tin Tin explained. “As you can see, six is a favorite number among the aliens. There is an array of six by six tubes. Here is another picture.”
This time things were coming out of the tubes. “Those are enemy missiles. Aside from the fact that they can launch thirty-six at once, you'll note that the missiles themselves appear to be streamlined.
“While a sphere is the most compact use of space, it suffers from a lot of issues. A cylinder isn't a bad alternative -- you get the maximum benefit for volume, and if you need more volume you just make the missile longer.
“It should be noted that the Federation's missiles are shaped very similar to the enemy's -- it's the ships that are different.”
The picture rotated. “It's a little hard to see, but each end of the missile is rounded. The consensus analysis is that they can launch out of either end of one of those missile tubes -- although we've never observed it.”
“It was observed six times at the Big Battle,” Pixie interjected.
“I stand corrected. I need to get with you, Pixie, and find out what else we learned,” Tin Tin told the computer.
“It is our belief from measurements of the ships and missiles that each tube contains twenty-four missiles, although we've never seen them fire more than 700 shots from a ship.”
“Many fired 800 shots in the Big Battle,” Pixie reported.
Tin Tin growled. “Pixie, I'm an intelligence officer. I eat information for breakfast, lunch and dinner. You need to send me a report with all of the technical data that differs or enhances our knowledge base on our enemies.”
“Of course, Ensign,” Pixie said.
“And, copy Admiral Gull and Captain Drake,” Tin Tin added.
“Me too,” Captain Hall added. “For that matter, send it to everyone in the crew. The more we know going into this, the better chance we're going to have.”
Pixie spoke up again. “I have been running simulations with various combinations of extremely short fan transition times and my ability to detect the results. The data I have is intractable against the standard detection models. That is, I cannot be sure of the results.
“I know you want to keep this secret, Cindy, but there are rules and regulations about this sort of thing. I would recommend sharing it with Master's Game. That computer will not reveal it unless it is necessary.”
Captain Hall grimaced. “Do it then.”
“Transmitting, Captain.”
They talked for a few more minutes, but the discussion had pretty much petered out and people were thinking about getting some sleep.
Then all hell broke lose. Captain Hall sat up as if she'd had a needle jabbed in her bottom.
Suddenly the familiar voice of Master's Game sounded in Cindy's head. It was obviously in the middle of a conversation with Captain Drake.
“Captain Drake, I've conferenced Captain Hall and Lieutenant Rhodes. Admiral Gull has requested a two minute biological break before he'll be available.
“Captain, this concerns the training exercise; it was not my intention of going behind your back.”
Captain Drake was clearly angry. “And the fact that your CPU usage is over 90%? That's happened now, what, twice? And never for this long.”
Captain Drake audibly squeaked. “You're flogging the base computers as well? Half the computers on Adobe? What is the nature of this problem?”
“An intractable problem so far,” Master's Game sounded almost cheerful. “In another three minutes I'll wave the computorial white flag -- I don't think there is an answer with the available data and models.”
Admiral Gull interjected. “I'm getting screams from the base, a half dozen Fleet Aloft ship commanders and from the planetary President -- someone told him there was an attack underway.”
“There is no attack,” Master's Game said firmly. “A new lieutenant commander, concerned about the CPU usage speculated to a friend that it might presage an attack. Rumors travel very nearly at latch-frame velocities, admiral. I've filed the report for your attention -- in my opinion that commander needs a purple rocket.”
“At least,” the admiral observed. “Why am I awake?”
“Lieutenant Rhodes has made an interesting speculation. I can't compute the answer from any of the standard models, nor have I had any success with a number of other approaches. The speculation is in regards to possible tactics during the exercise and I've embargoed it, as per standard practice.”
“Why am I awake?” the admiral repeated.
“Admiral, it is my opinion that this matter needs to be resolved as soon as possible. I recommend that we advance the exercise commencement date to tomorrow. There are a couple of logistical requirements as well, that I will speak privately to you about, Admiral.”
There was a moment's pause. “Captain Hall, you will have the additional logistical requirements. I am augmenting you with a Master Pilot and his wife.”
“Admiral... more crew?”
“Captain, I will judge you as much on the success of your mission as how well you do adapting to your two new crew members. Now, I'm headed back for dreamla
nd.”
“And my concerns?” Captain Drake spoke for the first time in a while.
“Remain your concerns,” Admiral Gull told her. “If I'm not going to get my itch scratched about this, you aren't. The exercise is to commence at 0500 Zulu tomorrow.”
Captain Drake's voice was frosty. “And if I have to rush preparations, on whose head will a mistake fall?”
Admiral Gull laughed on the circuit. “Why, mistakes are always blamed on the commander who gave the orders, Captain Drake. Endeavor to persevere. Good night, one and all. Don't do anything to mess up the rest of my good night's sleep!”
Captain Hall looked distracted for a minute, and then Captain Drake spoke. “Well, CPU use is normal once again. I too will trip the light fantastic.”
Captain Hall smiled at Cindy. “I have told Pixie to note any ship departures before our own. You, Lieutenant Rhodes, are to be notified when you wake if it appears to be a normal departure. If the departure looks unusual, Pixie will wake you up -- but me too.”
Pixie actually sounded like she was chuckling. “I won't have to wake either of you. An undetected cruiser out in the Oort belt just lit off her fans and scooted away at 90% of max power. I am told that the mission is classified and that we don't have the need to know. The ship's course is seventy-five degrees away from the exercise area.”
“So, it's not a problem?” Cindy asked.
“Lieutenant, the course is seventy-five point zero, zero, zero, zero degrees from the exercise area. The odds of that being a coincidence are virtually zero. They will go a half light year out, change course, and be in the exercise area about six hours ahead of us,” Pixie reported.
“We knew they were going to try something,” Tin Tin said. “Now we know it's a cruiser.”
“One last thing, Lieutenant Rhodes,” Captain Hall told Cindy. “The pilot and his wife will report aboard at 2330. Please greet them at the dock... he'll be bringing the second shuttle you requested.”
Captain Hall coughed. “And, Lieutenant Rhodes, you're going to lose your status as the youngest person aboard. She's fourteen.”
Cindy was startled. “A fourteen year old girl is married?”
Tam nudged Cindy hard. “Don't say anything else, Lieutenant! Please! Don't be like that lieutenant you met back on Rome!”
Cindy's jaw snapped shut, and her comment left unspoken. She'd had several examples in her tenure in the Fleet where you didn't want to speak unless you knew what you were talking about.
Suddenly Captain Hall clapped her hands. “This is better and better! Lieutenant Rhodes and Lieutenant Farmer, you may room together if that is your desire. Lieutenant Farmer, you are likely to recognize a familiar face with our new pilot. Consider his situation before you say anything you'll regret.”
The captain laughed. “And now, I'll join the stream of those who think a bit of sleep before we head off on our somewhat earlier than expected exercise tomorrow will be useful.”
She vanished, along with Ensign Roeser. Everyone else had long since vanished.
“XO, please, could we talk?” Tam asked Cindy.
“Yes, we can room together. I'm not sure I can sleep any more without someone snoring in the compartment.”
“Please...”
Tam got up and Cindy followed her.
They reached Cindy's compartment, and Cindy led the way inside. “What is it, Tam?”
“You are a dirty-foot. You don't understand life on the Rim. You have to go carefully about some things.”
“Like?”
“Lieutenant Shannon married his wife when she was twelve.”
“On Earth, they wouldn't be married -- he'd be in jail,” Cindy said darkly.
“And no doubt you agree,” Tam said.
“Think about something first. All of what you've heard about Rim Runners -- certificates, attitudes -- all of it... it's about professional competence, sure. But it is also about personal responsibility. On the Rim, if you step up and say, 'I'm an adult, treat me like one' people will, so long as you behave like an adult. That includes making adult choices -- like who to sleep with and who to marry.
“You and I aren't going to sleep together -- just sleep in the same compartment. Bob and Sarah Shannon share something I dream about at times -- but I've never found. They are two people acting as one; they share their lives in a way you can't understand and that I don't.
“If someone says 'I'm an adult, treat me like one,' you have to have a reason to say no. You, Cindy, benefit as much from that Rim Runner attitude as anyone. You stood up to Admiral Nagoya and told him you disagreed with him.”
“And was arrested and forcibly enlisted. I could have been shot.”
“Do you understand that the reason you didn't get shot was because he agrees with you? He doesn't have a clue how to do what you want -- but it's something he wants as well. The way to solve that sort of problem is to let someone else have a go at it.
“So here you are... I'm sure that in your own mind you are as adult as anyone.”
Cindy flushed. “Yes.”
“Then please, be patient with Bob and Sarah Shannon. Stop, think and listen to what they have to say.”
“Who are they to you?” Cindy asked.
“He was there, that day when I sat for my bridge watchkeeping exam. He did the worst of all of them! Gosh, he only finished in the top one percent! And ahead of me!
“As bad as BuPers was with me -- they were worse on him. They dumped on his wife as well. That really irritates Rim Runners, Cindy. Every time he got dumped on, a Rim Runner would notice and do something nice for him or for his wife.
“You are going to need to temper your attitudes to someone her age. You of all people should have less trouble with that than most.”
“Because it's so close to mine?”
“Because she has a master pilot certificate -- which you don't. Bob Shannon is every bit as sensitive to fan transitions as I am -- as most of us are. Sarah Shannon is the one who doesn't feel it.”
“So, it's okay for someone older to take advantage of someone that young,” Cindy said, her mood still dark.
“Take advantage? Rumor has it she was the one chasing him. Her parents were conned into coming out to the Rim with promises of good paying work -- but they were never told it was in vacuum on an asteroid habitat. There was a big stink about it, just before the war started. One in ten, Cindy. That's the percentage of dirty-feet who are killed in their first three years in space. As a volunteer -- well, that's how our ancestors got out here after all.
“But they were lied to about it -- that's beyond the beyond. If it happened today, people would have been shot. In any case, she was an orphan: both of her parents were killed and a few weeks later her older brother.”
“One in ten?” Cindy said, and then started. “That includes me, doesn't it?”
“Yes.” The single word hung naked in the air between them, leaving Cindy twisting and turning in a hurricane of emotions.
Cindy saw Tam's lips move, but couldn't hear anything.
“Cindy, I desperately want to be your friend. You are in a bad position; they've put you in a job where you've had no training or experience in what's required -- and neither has our captain.
“I swear to you that I'm not trying to get you in trouble or embarrass you -- although that last was my original intent. I am going to speak a simple declarative sentence. Listen carefully and then repeat it. When I say it, it has all the relevance of a cockroach fart -- when you say it, it will have relevance.
“You will upset some people. You will certainly get yourself and our captain in trouble. Others may get purple rockets as well. It's not just your job, Cindy -- it's your duty.”
“And this sentence?”
“Repeat after me: 'Pixie, on my authority as the XO of this vessel, initiate a no-notice ship-wide catastrophic environmental failure exercise in two minutes from my mark.'” She grinned at Cindy. “And then say 'Mark.'”
“A drill, eh?”
/>
“Exactly.”
“We haven't had any drills like that.”
“Cindy, you haven't had any drills period.”
“And that's bad?”
“Cindy, a lot of people think well of you and Captain Hall. You are going to test that.”
Cindy swallowed and repeated the request for the drill. “Now what?”
“We wait two minutes,” Tam said, being a bit cryptic.
“And then I'll find out?”
“And then you'll find out. Cindy, I swear, I'm not doing this to hurt you in any way. Yes, I was going to show you the natural superiority of a Rim Runner when it comes to survival in space emergencies. Please, please, do your best.”
“You sound like you think I'm going to screw up.”
“Odds are, you will.”
There was no warning, no hint of what was about to happen. Suddenly the air in the compartment fogged up, and there were huge gusts of air buffeting Cindy.
“Shuttle lock failure in the shuttle bay!” Pixie intoned. “Ship-wide environmental failure! Crew secure yourselves, then do so to your mates and finally report to your damage control stations!”
Something Captain Hall had said about when she'd been in Dragon and her compartment had depressurized. The fog was the warning about what was happening. A lot of people hadn't reacted quickly enough and had died. Her ears popped, finally galvanizing her into action.
A bubble! She needed a bubble! Cindy reached out a hand and found the seat of one of the bridge positions next to her, and ran her hand down it, until she found the compartment with a bubble. She put it on quickly, and then pulled the gauntlets on.
She stood back up. The roaring of the air had faded to nothing and the fog was starting to clear.
In her ears she heard Tam laugh. “Okay, not bad. Please note what Pixie said when calling the alert: she described the problem and what we should do. Never, ever use the words 'No Drill' on a practice drill. You state the nature of the problem, what the crew actions should be doing and leave it at that.”
Someone was cursing on the bubble comm link; Cindy thought it was Chief Shinzu. Then Captain Hall confirmed it. “Master Chief, say a few more of those for me. I am so totally screwed.”
Well-Traveled Rhodes (Kinsella Universe Book 6) Page 24