Alarm of War, Book II: The Other Side of Fear (20 page)

          Hiram shook his head.  "No, sir, not yet.  But-"

          "I'm afraid your plan sounds a little far-fetched, Commander," Eder interrupted.

          Admiral Douthat held up her hand.  "Hold on, Jim, there's more.  Hear him out."

          "Your concerns are perfectly valid, Captain Eder," Hiram acknowledged.  "But the plan is a little different than that.  I propose that we bypass the Refuge/Victorian wormhole completely and go directly into Dominion space."

          The room fell silent, with Opinsky and Captain Eder exchanging puzzled looks, the Queen's eyebrows slowly rising higher onto her forehead and Emily cocking her head to the side as she thought through the ramifications of what Hiram just said.  Finally Sir Henry cleared his throat.

          "Commander Brill, I have worked with you just long enough to know that you are not crazy, but since what you have just suggested would seem impossible, I wonder if you could enlighten us as to just what the devil you mean."

          Hiram took a deep breath.  "What I mean, Sir Henry, is that I propose we open a new wormhole from here directly into Dominion space and send our task force through it to destroy Siegestor."

          "Oh for pity's sake," Eder said in exasperation. "That's impossible!"

          "Actually, no, it's not," Hiram said.  "With your permission, Admiral?" he asked Douthat.

          "Go ahead, Brill," she replied.  "Can't have a circus without the clowns."

          Hiram walked to the conference room door, opened it and spoke to someone outside.  Two people entered the room.  One was a thickly built man with a monk's shaved head; the other was a tall, regal looking woman dressed in a simple white robe that fell to her feet.  Her simple dress did nothing to hide the fact that she was someone used to authority and command.  Sir Henry stiffened and started to speak, but Queen Anne put a restraining hand on his arm.

          "I would like to introduce Abbot Cornelia of The Light and a member of her...diplomatic corps, Brother Jong," Hiram said.  "They can explain how a wormhole might be opened directly into Dominion space."

          Sir Henry looked as if he were sucking lemons.  "Your Majesty, The Light has no business here.  We are discussing sensitive matters critical to Victoria.  I don't know what Brill was thinking, but-"

          Queen Anne held up a hand and Sir Henry fell silent.  She gave Hiram a look of utter exasperation, then sighed.  "As it happens," she told Sir Henry, "Brother Jong and I are acquainted."  She turned to the Abbot.  "But I have not had the pleasure of meeting Abbot Cornelia."  She stepped forward and offered her hand.  Abbot Cornelia placed her palms together in front of her face and bowed, then extended her hand to take the Queen's.

          "I have heard much of you from my nephew," the Abbot said.

          "Your nephew?" Queen Anne mused aloud.  "Well, our Mr. Brill is full of surprises, isn't he?"

          The corner of Abbot Cornelia's mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile.  "Yes," she said dryly, "that was exactly my reaction when he sent Brother Jong to me with his proposal."

          "Things are moving rather quickly," Queen Anne said, "so please forgive my forwardness if I ask if you can actually confirm what Commander Brill has said, that The Light can somehow create a wormhole at will into Dominion space.  Is it true?"

          Abbot Cornelia shook her head, her face now grave.  "No, Your Majesty, we have no special powers.  The creation of wormholes is for God and God alone.”

Queen Anne’s face fell.  She sighed and nodded in resignation.

“But not all of God’s splendors are revealed to us at once, Majesty,” the Abbot continued.  “Sometimes we think we know all there is to know about a thing, even a large, complex phenomena such as wormholes, and yet we know almost nothing.  The universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to sharpen.”

Queen Anne’s eyes narrowed.  She had been raised in a royal household; she knew the rich vocabulary of obtuse diplomatic speech.  She bowed her head ever so slightly in acknowledgement of the Abbot’s point.  “Please, Abbot Cornelia, enlighten me.”

Cornelia smiled.  “As children we all learn about wormholes.   We know that Victoria stands in the middle of a great web of wormholes that connect it to Cape Breton, Sybil Head, the Sultenic Empire, the Dominion, Darwin, Gilead and, of course, to Refuge.  And we know of the additional wormholes linking the other Human Sectors.  All of us recognize the wormhole map, which has not changed in a millennium.

“But this is the secret The Light has protected for three hundred years:  The wormhole map is wrong.”

          For a moment everyone in the room stared at her, no one – except Hiram, who had figured it out earlier – able to believe what they had just heard.  Finally, Sir Henry spluttered for a moment, his usual eloquence lost, then managed, "What nonsense is this?"

         “Not nonsense, Sir Henry, just science that you have not yet been exposed to,” Cornelia replied evenly.  “Members of The Light dedicate themselves to God in one of two ways; they become priests or they become scientists.  Our scientists devote themselves to exploring the many wonders God created for us.  One of our scientists spent her entire life studying wormholes, particularly how to detect them.  She was convinced that God made more of them than we know about.  She developed a new method for detecting wormholes and during the course of her survey, she found them.”

              “Wait a moment,” Sir Henry snapped.  “Are you seriously telling us that there is another wormhole in Human Space that we don’t know about?”

              Cornelia smiled gently, as if encouraging a particularly gifted child.  “Not one, Sir Henry, more than a dozen.”

              “Gods of Our Mothers!” someone breathed.

              It was left for Queen Anne to ask the critical question.  “Abbot Cornelia, are you telling us that there is a wormhole connection linking Refuge to the Dominion of Unified Citizenry?”

              The Abbot shook her head.  “No, Majesty, not one.  Two.”

Chapter 19

On Space Station Atlas,

In the Refuge Sector

Emily was awash in details.

She divided the task of building a gunboat wing into three subject areas: production, recruitment and tactical doctrine.

Production was easiest.  She turned over that task to Max Opinsky, Atlas’s Facilities Manager, and Captain David Lior (Retired).  They would oversee the programming necessary for the construction of the gunboats on Atlas and work with the Refuge manufacturing managers to start building them on the planet.  They would also work on inspecting the carriers and installing the latest electronics, AI and anti-missile weaponry.  After some debate back and forth, the decision was made to install the ‘Mildred’ model Artificial Intelligence into the carriers and the gunboats.  Mildred was slightly older than either Merlin or Gandalf, but was easier to install and was exceptionally stable.  Emily figured they would have enough headaches without having to worry about computer glitches in the core AI system.

Recruitment was going to be a headache.  She gave this task to Grant Skiffington and told him he had to find pilots, systems operators and weapons officers for one hundred gunboats.  And train them.  Skiffington left her office looking overwhelmed, but grimly determined.

The development of tactical doctrine was her own headache, and quite a headache it was.  She spent much of the first week studying carrier tactics, or trying to.  Victoria had never used carriers, so there was nothing helpful to be had there.  She downloaded the sensor display of the Dominion carrier assault on the
Lionheart
during the escape to Refuge and watched it closely a dozen times, finally concluding that while she was learning what
not
to do, she was not learning what she should be doing.

With some help from Gandalf, she learned that both the Sultenic Empire and Sybil Head had once had carrier-based attack craft, but neither had ever actually used them in battle.  The only tactical manuals she could find were rather vague.  The tactics discussed seemed to involve little more than launching the attack craft and hurling them at the enemy.  There was nothing about how the attack craft should execute their attack, nor anything on how to protect the carriers themselves.

She pondered this a moment, idly tapping her fingers on the table.  Where could she look?  The problem was that there had been virtually no space warfare since the settling of Victoria, only the occasional small unit clashes that relied on surprise as much as anything else, and virtually none of those battles had included carrier-based craft.

Then she snorted, more than a little embarrassed that she hadn’t thought of it earlier. 
Fine historian you are,
she thought ruefully.  “Gandalf!  Do you have historical records of military conflicts on Old Earth, with an emphasis on naval and air battles?”

“Why, yes, Commander,” the AI replied promptly. “My archives include fascinating articles on the Hittites defeating the Cypriots in 1210 BC, Old Earth Calendar; the defeat of the Sea Peoples by Ramses III in the battle of the Nile Delta in 1190 BC, Old Earth Calendar; the five year campaign of Alalia, in which the Carthaginians and Etruscans finally defeated the Greeks in 535 BC, Old Earth Calendar; the famous battle of Lade in 494 BC, Old Earth Calendar, in which the Persians-“

“Stop!” Emily yelled. 
Gods of Our Mothers, is that how I sound when I drink too much?
“Gandalf, I am looking for something a little more recent.”  With some carefully worded direction, she was able to learn that there was a lot more material on aircraft carriers from the wars on Earth, starting with the large-scale war they called ‘World War II.’   There were only three types of carrier-based assault craft, however: dive bombers, torpedo planes and fighters and they all had their particular constraints.  The dive bombers had to attack from a high position above the target while the torpedo planes had to come in just a few feet over the water and slowly fly straight at the target in order to properly line up the torpedo.  Both the bombs and the torpedoes were dumb weapons and could not be guided once released.  And the fighters served no other purpose than protecting the bombers and torpedo planes from enemy fighters.  All in all, primitive to the point of irrelevance. 

Carrier tactics in later Earth history – the Cold War era between two of the super powers – had more elaborate tactics for defending the carriers themselves from either missile or submarine attack.  Emily read countless articles on aircraft carrier vulnerability or, as some argued, invulnerability.  She read about outer screens and inner screens, cruise missiles and ballistic missiles, anti-submarine tactics and defenses against swarming fast attack craft. 

But the most important lesson Emily could discern from those articles was this: The first line of defense for the carriers lay in not being discovered in the first place.  The first combatant to locate the enemy had an enormous advantage.  Sensor capabilities during the Cold War were fairly rudimentary, she learned, so staying hidden was still possible and much preferable over the option of having to knock down incoming enemy missiles.

“Some things don’t change much,” she muttered to herself.

But by the end of the week, she reached several stark conclusions.  First, the simple fact was that the heavy gunboat was a different assault craft than anything Victoria had ever used.  Second, warfare in space was simply different than naval warfare on an ocean, despite some superficial similarities.  Third, the interaction of three things dictated the tactics used in carrier battles: the sophistication of the available sensors; the characteristics of the aircraft; and the details of the weapons systems.  Superiority in any of those three items could give you a huge advantage, but even then a successful outcome was not guaranteed.

After mulling it over while drinking yet another mug of tea, she decided that it would be up to her and her team to develop basic doctrine for three basic situations: how to use the carriers in conjunction with the Fleet warships; how to use the carriers on their own; and how to best use the actual gunboats in the attack.  Admiral Douthat had given her the bridge crew from the
New Zealand.
Master Chief Gibson would be helpful in pulling things together, but she suspected that Alex Rudd and Toby Partridge would be the ones to provide the imagination and input she needed.  And yet, neither one of them were carrier experts by any stretch of the imagination.

She called Hiram.  “Who should I talk to about carrier strategic and tactical doctrine?” she asked, explaining the three situations she was trying to cover.

Hiram, as usual, did not seem fazed by getting this type of question out of the blue.

“Well, you mean other than Captain Lior?” he asked in reply.

“Refuge used the gunboats by themselves, which is part of what I want, but I also need to know how to use the carriers in conjunction with regular Fleet warships, like destroyers and cruisers.  Anyone you can think of?”

Hiram shook his head.  “Carrier experts are sort of short on the ground, Em,” he told her.  “I’ll look around, but I think Lior will be your best bet.  Either he might have something or he can send you to someone who does.”

Next she called Lori Romano, the AI boffin who was working to duplicate the Dominion teleportation craft.  “I need some technical help soonest,” she explained.  “I know they’ve got you working on a bunch of things, but I want to know if you have time.”

There was a moment of silence, long enough to make Emily wonder if she’d lost the connection.  “Specialist Romano?”

Romano cleared her throat nervously.  “Sorry, Commander, but I am working on a project that is taking up all of my time.”

Emily wondered if she could steal Romano away.  “Who are you reporting to, Romano?  My project has a high priority and I may try to get you reassigned.”

Another pause.  “Commander, I am, well, I am not at liberty to tell you who I am working for or the nature of the project,” Romano said nervously.

Emily’s eyebrows shot up.  That was interesting, particularly since Admiral Douthat had given the heavy gunboat wing the highest priority.  “Well, Romano, if you can’t tell me who you are working for, perhaps you can tell me who I should speak to in order to find out if I can get access to your mysterious boss?”

Emily could almost hear Romano’s heartbeat increase.  “Um…um...I’m really not sure, Commander, but maybe, I guess…the Queen?”

Emily took a deep breath.  Had to be Hiram Brill and his planned raid on Siegestor.  Had to be.  “Okay, Romano, I need one hundred and twenty training stations created for the new heavy gunboat crews, but someone is going to have to do some fancy computer work to determine the flight characteristics because the damn things don’t actually exist yet.  Who do you recommend to take on this project if you’re too busy?”

“Commander, I’d recommend Bill Satore,” Romano said, relief evident in her voice.  “He’s really good and could get a prototype training module up and running in no time.  But Commander, why don’t you just fly one of the gunboats rather than guess at what they can do?”

Emily sighed.  Sometimes she felt like she was running through molasses.  “Romano, like I said, the problem is we don’t have one yet.  If I had one, then I could fly it, but-“

“Begging your pardon, Commander,” Romano interrupted, “but I’m looking at five of them.”

Emily closed her eyes. 
Gods of Our Mothers, give me strength.
  “Pray tell, Romano, where are you just now?”

“Shipyard Two, Ma’am, Quadrant Three.”

“Thank you, Romano.”  She cut the connection and called Max Opinsky.  When he came on the line, she asked, “Max, this is Emily.  Is there something you should tell me?”

* * * *

The five freshly manufactured heavy gunboats sat along the wall near the gigantic bay doors.  Opinsky and Lior, beaming like school boys, stood beside her.  The gunboats looked unfinished, but Emily realized that was because there were no weapon modules attached to them.  She looked at the slender, tear-drop craft, no more than eighty feet long, and was reminded of a sheep dog that had just had its winter coat shorn off.  Since the craft would be guided solely by sensors, there was nothing more than a small porthole for people to look out of.  Only one engine had been slotted into its rear quarters, giving it a slightly lopsided appearance.  The cabin area in the front was tiny; three people working together in there would be crowded and cramped.

All in all, she thought, it didn’t look like much.

“Aren’t they magnificent?” Lior shouted, throwing his arms out wide.  “By the One God, they are beautiful!  Just look at them!”

By the end of the third week, they had five test pilots flying the gunboats twelve hours a day and had a pretty good handle on the craft’s flight characteristics.  The good news was that even with one engine, it accelerated crisply and turned on a dime.  With two engines, it accelerated so quickly that the pilot blacked out from the g-forces and Mildred had to bring the ship home.  When the gunboat was loaded with four missiles, there was a slight degradation in handling, but it wasn’t very noticeable.  The bad news was other than the test pilots, they still had no crews at all.

They received live missiles in week four and test fired them at some wrecked freighters and destroyers.  The missiles made very satisfactory holes in the targets.  Then they focused on the laser mounts.  The original plan called for a fixed mount, but that meant that in order to fire on a target, you had to aim the bow of the ship at the target.  “It’s too limiting,” Grant Skiffington insisted to Lior and Opinsky.  “One of the strengths of the new gunboats is their maneuverability.  If you can’t shoot the lasers at an angle, you force the pilot to give up that maneuverability.  You make him predictable.  ‘Predictable’ rhymes with ‘dead.’” 

Lior and Opinsky exchanged a glance, then went off and came back three days later with a forward laser mount that could swivel to cover an arc of 180 degrees.  With some computer aided targeting from Mildred, the gunboat could approach at high speed, lock the laser on target, then change direction to avoid the counter-fire and still shoot its ten-inch laser as it swept by.

Grant nodded.  “I like it,” he told the retired Refuge captain and the scruffy Facilities Manager.  “Now put a laser on the back with the same type of mount so we can fire on targets even as we run away.”

* * * *

Specialist 4 Bill Satore came in shyly and introduced himself to Emily.  He saluted formally, but in a way that suggested he was much more a technical specialist than he was a soldier.  He had broad shoulders, startling blue eyes, strong white teeth, wavy blond hair and a very square cleft chin.  From appearances alone he looked like a recruitment poster for an Old Earth fighter pilot, but when he opened his mouth he was pure geek.  Emily, aware there was more than a little bit of geek in her DNA as well, carefully hid her smile.

“Ma’am, Lori Romano told me you needed someone to build a training program for the new gunboats you’re building.  I’m here to help you if I can,” he said.  He was having trouble meeting her eyes and kept looking at the corner of her desk instead.

Emily nodded.  “The heavy gunboats are brand new, Specialist Satore.  We have to train more than one hundred crews and we have very little time to do it in.  We need the actual training stations designed for a crew of three: pilot, Systems specialist and gunner.  And we need software to make it work.  I’m not expecting you to design the training sessions, just the training stations themselves.  You’ll work with Lt. Commander Skiffington, Refuge Captain Lior and Max Opinsky.  They’ll rely on you for the technical design of the simulators and for the software to make them work.”