Riss Series 3: The Riss Survival (14 page)

"No, sir. Only the Riss can fly the Mnemosyne. The people I'm suggesting all contributed to its success. Besides, I believe it would be beneficial for you to meet the elders."

* * *

It took a day to dismantle the warheads in twenty of the Bateleur's missiles and notify all the parties involved. Captain McKnight pronounced me certifiably insane but was good-natured about going along with what he thought would be an entertaining exercise. Plimson showed considerable patience waiting the extra day.

On the day of the exercise, I had the shuttle pilot circle the Mnemosyne so the Admirals could get a good look at the exterior. When they exited the shuttle, the first words out of Plimson's mouth were expected.

"Reese, that is the ugliest cruiser ... ship I've ever seen. That’s not a good start." The other two Admirals nodded. "You obviously kept to your promise not to use SAS technology."

"Sir, bear with me. I promise not to disappoint you." I knew that would be their first reaction, until they found out it was designed that way on purpose.

"Sirs, I would like you to meet Elder Ni'Shay, who is ... I spent the next few minutes introducing everyone and took them to the dining room, where Petty Officer Pillion had arranged for a light lunch using some of the clan's dishes and recipes. The conversations lasted longer than I had expected, because the Admirals were interested in Freeland and the clans, and the elders were willing to discuss every topic freely.

Eventually, I got everyone up and we toured the lower level, which was pretty standard until they realized the
Mnemosyne
had ten engines. That appeared to be another negative in Plimson's eyes. Next, I took them to the upper level. The admirals were impressed but weren't sure whether it was a good thing or not. At least they understood the reason behind it and agreed it would be necessary on a Riss ship, but weren't sure it made for a functional cruiser. Then we descended to the middle deck and we toured each ring. I left the Bridge for last.

"Wow, now that's a Bridge," Plimson said, looking around. "Are you going to explain what all these panels are for?"

"Afterward, sir. Now it's time for the exercise. Please take a seat and strap in, and keep an eye on one of those three monitors. They will keep you informed as to what is going on." I intentionally, took the captain’s seat without further comment.

"Commander Alena, open a line to Commander McKnight."

"Yes, Captain."

"Comm, open a line to the
Bateleur
," Alena said, and almost immediately McKnight's face appeared on the overhead monitor.

"Are you ready to play with the Bateleur, Captain Reese? How much of a head start do you need? Two hours enough?"

"That's very kind of you Captain McKnight. It's now thirteen hundred hours. Give us thirty minutes to start engines and leave the station. You're free to begin your attack anytime afterward."

"Are you sure? You'll hardly have cleared the station in thirty minutes. If you’re planning a sneak attack, it won't work. You'll be annihilated as soon as the exercise begins."

"Yes, thirty minutes. It's now thirteen hundred hours. You may begin at thirteen thirty hours. Captain Reese, out." I cut the connection and ignored the comments going on behind me. I had r-Melete, at a remote station recording the SV on the three designated overhead monitors. Alena, pointed to the monitors as I signed off.

* * *

I sent to Alena who was currently acting XO.

Mnemosyne
.>

<
Mnemosyne
, sealed.>

** Permission to detach
Mnemosyne
.** r-Galene's voice box sent.

"You are cleared,
Mnemosyne
."

<
Mnemosyne
detached.>

The ship began slowly moving away from the station. When we were a hundred kilometers away, I took over.

<,Half speed on engines one, three, five, seven, and ten,>

The Visual Tracking Hologram sprang to life in the middle of the Bridge.

A red blip appeared with SAS1 alongside, a blue blip with RM1, and three white ones with X1-3.

With everyone's attention riveted on the overhead monitors, the Bridge was so quiet you could hear individuals breathing.

I waited fifteen minutes, knowing it was pointless, but it was a good demonstration for the Admirals.

Bateleur
is moving away from us.>

Within seconds, a vector appeared on the Helm's overhead monitor.

Another fifteen minutes passed with no response from the Bateleur.

Bateleur
know we haven't left Freeland space.>

The Weapons monitor displayed a vector.

The ECM monitor changed to the Radar display.

The Radar monitor changed to the ECM display.

The Weapons monitor displayed the launch and time to impact.

The ECM monitor showed the launch and current position.

The ECM monitor showed the launch. Two minutes later, the monitor displayed the current position of the cloud of debris relative to the Mnemosyne and the Bateleur.

The exercise went on for another hour. The Bateleur fired all its twenty missiles with no hits. We fired fifteen, scoring eleven.

"Captain McKnight, we will accept your surrender."

"Where the hell are you, Captain Reese?"

"Five thousand klicks off your port."

The Radar monitor showed all systems active.

"Damn. I could hit you with lasers, you're so close. My compliments, Captain. I'm glad you're on our side. You owe me a tour of the Mnemosyne," McKnight said and cut the connection.

I turned my seat towards my guests. "Questions?"

"... Reese. I was sure you had disappointed me this time. This ship is ugly and the upper level is a waste of space, although I understand the reason. But this ... I don't know what I expected. I guess I thought a smaller version of a Ra ... clan cruiser. I guess my decision to let you build the Mnemosyne makes me a genius—again." He nodded as if agreeing with himself.

"So what kind of mysterious missiles are Dragonflies, Dusters, and Demons?" Stenberg asked, leaning forward in his chair.

"Duster is a missile loaded with chaff and phosphorus material, which when it explodes puts a curtain of deflective and hot material between us and our enemy. They are basically blind—"

"So are you," Plimson said, frowning.

"True. However, Dragonflies are missiles that fly either above, below, or to the side of the cloud. They provide eyes for us and the Demons, which are retarded missiles. They have very limited electronics and only a small motor which allows them to make minor corrections based on the Dragonfly's calculations."

"Did I understand correctly? The Bateleur couldn't find us, unless your sensors and engines were active?" Admiral Wattson asked.

"Yes, Admiral. The ship looks ugly because of the material it's coated with and the angles of the metal underneath. But it's that combination that makes it difficult to detect with normal sensors. Cutting all but a few of the small engines adds to the stealth of the Mnemosyne, while allowing us maneuverability.

"What happened when you said the Weapons board was down?"

"Each panel contains the boards for all the functions; therefore, if one breaks, another panel can switch functions with the malfunctioning panel. Because they communicate via Streaming Vid, one Riss can be updated quickly and substitute for any other."

Well, Reese, I always thought I'd like to be on a Riss ship. This has been a rare experience. The Riss were truly meant for space." Admiral Plimson walked around the room, inspecting each station.

"Actually, what you saw was in slow motion. Half of what you saw on the monitors was said for your benefit to help you understand what was happening. I would say normally it would have taken one-tenth the time." The discussion went on for hours. In the end, Plimson scheduled another meeting after dinner.

* * *

"Reese, my initial reaction was to declare the Mnemosyne a SAS secret, station a fleet on Freeland, and allow no one to leave the planet. But after several cups of kaffa and a hundred deep breaths, I decided I needed more information," Plimson said, and then turned to Pavao. "It's my understanding that Reese has kept you and Corbitt involved in the Riss project."

"Yes, sir. We have been involved in each phase of the Mnemosyne development and part of every decision and test. A complete set of reference manuals, specifications, and software has been archived. In addition, Captain Corbitt and I, with help from Captain Reese, have conducted a preliminary analysis of the applicability of implementing each of the Mnemosyne's innovations on a Hunter and Light cruiser."

"Sir, may I add that no one except the Riss could operate the Mnemosyne, even with the software, since it requires an understanding of Symath. A mathematical system the Riss has shared only with the SAS."

"Thank you, Reese. That does relieve my mind somewhat and shows me you, Pavao, and Corbitt have been thinking about the future. At the risk of my career, what's next, Captain Reese?" He smiled.

"Sir, there are several unresolved question surrounding me and the Riss, which the Mnemosyne may help to resolve. Or, at least, provide a foundation for discussion."

"And they are?"

"The Riss' status. They are already by Treaty considered a separate Nation, although they reside on a SAS planet. I would like a separate Treaty acknowledging the SAS and Riss as allies, supporting each other in war and peace." I stopped to take a sip a kaffa. My mouth felt so dry I could hardly swallow. "As part of that agreement, I would like the SAS to provide a contingent of Scorpions and Sharks, as well as an Intelligence group on each Riss cruiser. I've already talked to Vice Admiral Munoz. All three groups would function like the Scorpions do today on SAS ships. They are there to support the ship and its mission, but do not report to the ship's Captain."

"Munoz agreed?" Wattson asked.

"Yes, sir." I nodded to Wattson. "I would like to see Freeland the major manufacturing facility for Mnemosyne technology and related work. I think they have earned it. Not only in the design and construction of the Mnemosyne but also in the Intel they are providing on the JPU and UFN." I took sip of kaffa, then another as everyone was staring at me.

A relaxing ripple of laughter flowed through me.

"Last, my status. I believe it needs to be clarified and not only for my benefit."

"Reese, you've done it again. You've given me a raging headache, and you've given me another one of those I'm a fool or a genius decisions that depend on how it turns out. Worse, it's one I can't avoid without shirking my responsibilities." He sat, not saying another word, hands steepled under his lips, and eyes looking down at the table. Finally, he looked up. "None of you can make this decision for me, but I would like to hear your thoughts."