Adapt and Overcome (The Maxwell Saga) (32 page)

The battle computer’s AI system spoke up again as it continued its analysis of the newly-uploaded records. “Targets Alpha and Bravo restarted their
gravitic drives at one-tenth of the previous power levels on June 5 2848 at 14:24:49. Tracks of Targets Alpha and Bravo began to diverge before the drives were shut down after seven minutes and thirty seconds. Target Alpha’s track indicates an interception course with Rolla. Target Bravo’s track indicates an interception course with the asteroid mining project.” The Plot display was updated to reflect the new information. Both ships had been frighteningly close to entering Rolla’s star system at the time.

“That was
yesterday,
Sir!” The officer’s voice rose to a high-pitched squeak.

“Yes, it was.
By using only one-tenth power, they were trying to avoid detection. If we hadn’t had the system surveillance satellites in operation by now, they probably would have.”

Steve tried desperately to ignore the sudden red-hot wire that seemed to thread itself through his guts as he remembered that Abha was out at the mining project. He forced himself to focus.

The AI continued, “Minor gravitic drive activity detected at or near Target Alpha’s predicted position half an hour after main gravitic drive shutdown. Classified as small craft movement. Activity ceased after approximately six hours.”

Small craft
movement?
Steve wondered to himself.
What the hell would they be doing with their cutters or cargo shuttles while still outside Rolla’s star system? Could they have been transferring crews between ships? If so, why do that after their tracks diverged, instead of while they were moving together?

He shook his head. They’d have to figure that out later. “Lieutenant, sound General Quarters,” he snapped.

“B – but, Sir – I –”

“I’ll take the responsibility. Sound General Quarters
now!”

“A –
aye aye, Sir!”

The younger man flipped up a protective cover on his console and pressed a button. A harsh klaxon instantly began its
aah-OOO-gah!
clamor. Footsteps clattered down the passages outside, and the doors slammed open as senior personnel began to rush in to take over the consoles from the duty watch.

While he waited for the Duty Officer to arrive, Steve turned to his trainees. “All of
you, listen up! I need some information as quickly as possible. Get details of Target One’s and Target Two’s trajectories and speeds from the battle computer. Calculate their likely course and position as of right now, based on the information available to us. They’re coasting through space without using their drives, so we can’t track them by their emissions. On the other hand, they can’t change course or brake without creating emissions. That’d let us track them, and they know it, so they’ll probably stay on their present courses. We have to figure out an area of space through which each of them is likely to move, work out when they’re likely to reach it, then look for them there. I want a real-time rolling Plot display of where they were, or are, or will be at any time, including a margin of maximum error. Make it fast, people!”

There was a rapid chorus of “Aye aye, Sir!” from the trainees. They bent to their consoles, some of them consulting each other, others tapping in queries.

A Commander burst into the room, still buttoning his jacket, breathing hard. “What’s going on?” he demanded, striding towards the Watch Commander’s console.

The Junior Lieutenant sprang to attention. “Sir, Senior Lieutenant Maxwell says the battle computer’s detected Constandt de Bouff’s ships approaching. I don’t know what’s happening apart from that, Sir.”

“I ordered him to sound General Quarters, Sir,” Steve acknowledged crisply. In short, concise sentences he outlined how he’d just released the drive signatures of Constandt’s ships to the database, and ordered the battle computer to search for matching records. “De Bouff’s using an old but very effective tactic, Sir. Normal systems can detect a hyper-jump emergence signal up to three or four light-days away, but not further. He came out of hyper-jump four light-days from the planet, and he’s been coasting towards us ever since, so we wouldn’t be able to pick up his drive emissions. If it hadn’t been for the new satellites on the system boundary, we still wouldn’t have done so.

“
I’ve got my class setting up a rolling display of his ships’ likely locations, trajectories and speeds, Sir. It should be displayed in the Plot within a few minutes. Once we have that, we can predict the volumes of space through which they’re likely to be passing at any time, and direct our ships to search it with radar and lidar, then engage them.”

The Commander – his nametag read ‘Foster’ –
nodded. “I see.” He sat down in the Watch Commander’s chair. “While we’re waiting for that rolling display, there are some things we can do.” He keyed his intercom. “Command to Communications. One. Signal all our ships, wherever they are, to come to General Quarters at once and stand by for further orders. Encrypt that message – we don’t want our visitors knowing what’s going on. Two. Get me Commodore O’Fallon immediately. I don’t care where he is or what he’s doing – get him on the line and patch him through to me.”

“Communications to Command, aye aye, Sir.”

Foster glanced up at him. “Lieutenant Maxwell, you’re Fleet-qualified in Navigation and Tactics, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Stick around. We can use you.”

“Aye aye, Sir.”

The Plot came alive with a new display. The focus shortened to six light-hours from the planet, and two trajectories were displayed. One came in towards Rolla, and the other towards the asteroid mining project. The disembodied voice of the battle computer AI intoned, “Rolling position display available for Target Alpha and Target Bravo.” Additional icons flickered to life as the position of Rolla’s patrolling ships was displayed, as well as those of one destroyer and two patrol craft that were in parking orbits near the depot ship.

Steve was dimly aware of Commander Foster speaking into a handset, but ignored him
as he snapped, “Computer, calculate chances of interception by SPS vessels before Target Bravo reaches the asteroid mining project.”

The response was immediate. “No interception possible by SPS vessels before Target Bravo reaches the mining project. One local patrol craft is shown in a position from where it can intercept Target Bravo between five and ten million kilometers from the project.”

Steve opened his mouth to snap commands, but forced himself to remain silent. That was Commander Foster’s responsibility, and he was speaking with Commodore O’Fallon. Even as Steve turned to him, the Commander replaced the handset.

“Commodore O’Fallon’s coming up to orbit in his gig,” he informed Steve. “He’s bringing the Prime Minister and Minister of Defense with him, as well as Colonel Houmayoun. They were all in a meeting when I spoke with the Commodore.”

“I understand, Sir.” Steve indicated the Plot. “None of our ships can intercept Target Bravo before she reaches the asteroid mining project. It’s going to be up to the two local patrol vessels and your four shuttles to fight her off.”

“What’s Target Bravo’s armament likely to be?”

“We don’t know for sure, Sir, but de Bouff senior had four laser cannon aboard
Blanco,
plus ten missiles, all outdated weapons with a powered range of about a million kilometers. Some had nuclear warheads. It’s likely Constandt has similar weapons aboard his ship – Target Alpha – at least, he’s unlikely to have been better armed than his father was. The weapons he took off their depot ship and installed aboard Target Bravo are probably much the same.”

“That’s still enough to far outrange the weapons aboard those small patrol craft or our shuttles at the mining project.”
Foster thought for a moment, then shook his head. “We have no choice. They’ve got to head her off, try to damage her, or at least throw a scare into her so she veers away from the mining ships. Do you concur?”

Steve sucked in a deep breath. The decision might condemn Abha to death… but the truth was obvious.
“Yes, Sir. There’s no alternative.”

“
You handle dealing with Target Bravo, Lieutenant. Issue the necessary orders under SysCon’s authority. While you do that, I’m going to figure out what we’ve got that can intercept Target Alpha, and how best to go about it.”

“Aye aye, Sir.”

Steve sat down in the secondary chair at the Watch Commander’s console and issued his requirements to the battle computer AI. It verified that it had understood his intentions, then translated them into an action order to the patrol forces at the asteroid mining site. Steve scanned the order rapidly, approved it, then keyed his intercom.

“Command to Communications. Transmit this operations order to the mining project, flash priority. Use tight-beam transmission rather than general broadcast, and encrypt it. Send it three times
to ensure clear reception.” He tapped at the console as he spoke, routing the signal to the communications operator.

“Communications to Command, aye aye, Sir.”

Steve looked at the Plot again, his stomach churning at the danger Abha was facing. She was right in the path of an oncoming enemy, and not very well equipped to defend herself and her comrades in arms. His warning signal would take thirty-nine minutes at light speed to reach the mining ship, plus however long she took to re-transmit it to her two patrol craft and the shuttles, wherever they were. It would be three-quarters of an hour before Abha knew what was going on. By then Target Bravo would be less than fifty million kilometers from her. If it was still coasting along at one-tenth of light speed – and it probably would be, because even an old, obsolete warship fire control system could direct laser cannon or missiles at that velocity – it would take less than half an hour to cover that distance. It would be on top of her in about one-and-a-quarter hours from now.

He shook his head.
I can’t do a damn thing to help her. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this helpless in my life!

Steve turned to Commander Foster. “Orders transmitted to the mining project, Sir. By the time
they receive them, they’ll have no more than half an hour to send out their patrols and try to pick up Target Bravo on radar as she approaches.”

The Commander nodded. “Good luck to them. They’re going to need it!” He gestured to the Plot. “Target Alpha is on a trajectory that looks like it directly intersects Rolla’s. He probably intends to attack our orbital installations and any ships nearby. Lieutenant-Commander Le Roux
is out on exercises with two of our patrol craft. They’re fifty light-minutes from the planet, positioned a few light-minutes to port of and above Alpha’s approach trajectory. I intend to order him to close on the trajectory line as fast as possible.” He entered commands, and a moving cylinder of light lit up, traveling slowly down Target Alpha’s trajectory line.

“That’s the enemy’s likely position, plus an allowance for margin of error. It’ll be touch-and-go whether he can get into radar range; he may have to send drones out ahead of his ships. I’ll authorize him to fire without waiting for further orders. Meanwhile, I’ll order the two patrol craft at the depot ship to get their crews aboard and head towards Alpha, to backstop the two already out there. I’ll order this destroyer,” indicating an icon off to one side of the Plot display, “to head for the mining project, to provide backup to local patrols. She can’t get there for almost two hours, given the time our signal will take to reach her, plus her travel time to the mining
site. Our other ships on patrol are all too far away to intercept Alpha or Bravo. I’ll order them to return to Rolla at full blast, but they won’t get here in time for the initial engagements. What do you think?”

Steve nodded. “You’ve done the best you can under the circumstances, Sir
, given the positions of our ships and the very limited time we have to work with. At least Target Alpha has further to go before reaching us than Target Bravo does to reach the mining project. We have almost an hour longer to intercept Alpha.”

“Thank Heaven for small mercies! I’ll get the signals off at once.”

There were a few minutes of hectic activity as the Communications console sent out the messages, and the Plot operator calculated and displayed the likely results of the movements of the ships concerned. They could see the engagement – if there was to be one – playing out in the display as the icons moved towards each other in simulated combat.

Foster sighed heavily. “Given light-speed delays, we won’t be able to issue any more orders or provide more input to those on the spot until this is over.
I’ll activate our local defenses and tell them to stand by.”

“
Yes, Sir. Commodore O’Fallon and the others will be here in less than an hour, I guess – just about the time things start to happen.”

Foster shook his head. “Yes, but we won’t know what’s happened for some time after that, given light speed delay. It’ll all be over one way or the other by the time we hear anything. Your wife’s out at the mining project, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’m sorry. I guess all you can do right now is
pray – if you’re a praying man, that is.”

“Normally I’m not, Sir, but at a time like this I’ll try anything!”