-16-
After their conference meeting aboard the Freedom, the Rêveur’s officers submerged themselves back into Alex’s long-term plan, checking on their subordinates’ progress. Everywhere they went, they were congratulated on the success of their mission at Bellamonde. The Librans were in sore need of relief from their escalating anxiety over the encroaching aliens, and the New Terran Admiral and his people were providing that relief.
Terese found an excuse to comm Tomas and, as she had hoped, was invited aboard the Freedom for a meal. Tatia and Sheila took a shuttle planetside to meet with Robert and check on the pilots’ training. Mickey and Lazlo were on board the same shuttle headed planetside and planned to visit T-1 and supervise the retooling of the facilities for the new second-stage missile design.
On the manufacturing front, the focus had been first on producing parts for the freighter bays and stage-one missiles. T-1 had finally begun producing fighter parts, but final assembly had yet to start.
On board the Rêveur, techs finished installing a new holo-vid in Alex’s cabin with a direct tie to the dedicated comm lines linking Julien to his backup location. Late in the evening, Alex signaled Andrea to join him and Renée in his cabin. The three settled into comfortable chairs and linked with Julien.
<We’re ready, Admiral,> Julien replied.
<Sers,> Alex said, greeting the SADEs formally, <I would like to discuss the possibilities of designing and building a better fighter within our time constraints. We should look at adding more missile capability, more maneuverability, and improved controller capability to maneuver the fighter out of the beam’s path. You have one hour.>
<One hour?> queried Z, confused by the time constraint he took literally.
Renée and Andrea shared grins.
<Ah, the New Terran humor we have witnessed,> Cordelia said. <Well, Admiral, may I suggest this as an answer?> Cordelia sent a vid of a Dagger streaking toward an alien-infested planet. A giant figure of the Admiral straddled the outside of a Dagger, his legs dangling below the fuselage. The silver ships became animated and shrieked in fear at the sight of him and shot off to immolate themselves in the system’s star.
The humans clapped and laughed at Cordelia’s rebuttal.
<If it would work, Cordelia, I would do it tomorrow,> Alex said, then chuckled while he replayed the vid.
<I believe you would, Admiral,> said Cordelia.
<Perhaps what you’re looking for, Admiral, is the Dagger-II,> Julien said as the new cabin holo-vid lit up to show a radically redesigned fighter. Those in the cabin came upright in their chairs. The craft slowly spun 360 degrees on its horizontal axis. The Dagger’s two missile booms were replaced by a carousel under its fuselage. Engines were in two sets of four, fore and aft, and swiveled on gimbals enabling the craft to move in ways that the original Dagger could not. It was unlike anything in the Earth colonists’ records. It was a Méridien design twist on the ancient Terran fighters.
<However, Admiral,> Julien continued, <as your people would say, there is good news and bad news. The good news is that we believe it will increase our fighter’s effectiveness by over 135 percent and its survivability by 83 percent. The new missile loads will improve its effectiveness even more. The bad news is that it would take us twice as long to develop this model as we did the first Dagger, and it would require the retraining of everyone: present pilots and trainees.>
<Admiral,> Cordelia said. <we recognize that you have a great necessity to multiply your effectiveness. We should examine passive techniques. Julien shared your colonists’ early records of old Earth war machines. They are fascinating and frightening at the same time.>
<Yes, Earth had a very violent past,> Alex said. <Who knew that we would need to resurrect their war tools? Please go on, Cordelia.>
<We have not considered the Rêveur as a potential offensive tool. Your ship is maneuverable, although not as fast as the alien ships, unless you’re flying unsafely,> Cordelia added with a hint of reprimand.
<Unsafe is better than dead,> Julien corrected.
<Let’s stay on track people,> Alex said.
<A concept that caught my attention, Admiral, was the use of mines. Although Earth’s versions were quite advanced with their onboard intelligence, we could use a simpler concept and use numbers rather than size. Think “minelettes,” Admiral: small, dumb contact or proximity mines. You might lay them out behind the Rêveur to cover your fighters or straggling flotilla ships.>
Z added, <Admiral, we would be able to protect your fighters from Cordelia’s minelettes using power-crystals and comms tuned to the controllers. The minelettes could either be deactivated at the fighter’s approach, or the fighter, aware of their positions, could avoid striking them.>
<And, Admiral,> said Julien, embellishing the concept, <we could easily manufacture a significant quantity quickly and jettison them from the bays.>
<We have a dispersal pallet tool at our disposal,> Renée said. <If we could prepackage these minelettes for use on these dispersal pallets, then we could jettison large quantities at a time. The pallets have simple controllers that could be used to activate the minelettes after the pallets are launched but before the minelettes are dispersed. Even better, the pallets have mechanisms that allow the release in different configurations … a slow dispersal, a quick release, or even various programmable motions like a spin.>
<Julien, I assume you have the specifications on these pallets,> Alex said and continued before Julien could respond, earmarking the subject for download to his officers. <In addition, I need the three of you working on analysis of vid footage of the alien ships attacking the Confederation ships in any significant number. Are there any recognizable or repeatable formations? And what pallet deployment techniques would we use against them?>
<Understood, Admiral. We will make it a priority,> Julien sent.
<Admiral, we have finished a critical research item for you,> Z said. <Allow me to explain what has been done before I relay our conclusions.>
<Proceed, Z,> Alex said.
<We’ve reviewed the historic footage of the alien encroachment of each planet. I possessed detailed analysis of each planet’s resources from the Confederation’s original survey teams before the colonies were started. Prior to this, Julien shared with us your analysis of the subterranean nature of the aliens. Very incisive of you, I might say, Admiral. Stacking this information allows us to calculate the extent of the aliens’ stay on a planet, which is directly related to the abundance of the resources we believe they collect. The archival footage indicates that the amount of area that a shell or dome, if you will, occupies is directly related to the saturation of specific resources within the area. The greater the density of resources, the smaller the area a silver ship occupies. We can confirm this by overlaying your scheme, Admiral, of subterranean, asymmetric lines to connect the resource points with the nearest shell.>
<Z, excuse me,> Andrea interrupted. <You’re saying that you can project the rate at which the shells consume the resources they are targeting, because each shell consumes the same amount of resources, only the area varies as the density of the resources vary.>
<That is correct, Captain. There is a degree of error in these projections since the density of these resources changed from the time of the original survey to before the planet was occupied by the aliens. In the case of minerals, which appear to be the aliens’ primary resource targets, most were harvested by the colonists from asteroids to preserve the pristine nature of their new home. This gives us a high level of confidence in our calculations.>
<The same amount of resources each time,> Alex mused privately to Julien.
<Drones,> Julien returned privately, echoing Alex’s thoughts from days ago.
Z continued. <Apparently the resources consumed are only a portion of the planet’s total mineral resources. The aliens appear to focus on rare mineral deposits.>
<I take it you’re about ready to share your analysis of Bellamonde,> Alex said.
<This is where you need to be sitting down, Admiral,> Julien sent to Alex privately, since his friend had begun to pace.
<Shades of Clayton Downing,> Alex moaned privately to Julien.
<Softly, Z,> Cordelia said privately. <The summation you are delivering is not good, and this is the human we need the most.>
<Please be aware, Admiral,> Z said, working furiously to incorporate the lessons gleaned from his fellow SADEs, <that Bellamonde represents the greatest challenge to our calculations. It’s the oldest colony at 261 years since founding. Much more has changed on this planet since the original surveys than any other colony. Also, statistically, we have only a small sample of planets subsumed by the aliens for analysis. Not that any of us wish for a larger sample,> Z said, trying his best to be sensitive. <What further exacerbates our calculations are the assumptions we made concerning which minerals the aliens seek, although your Chief Engineer’s analysis of the silver ship’s hull has been very useful in narrowing the choices. Due to these discrepancies, we must deliver a range of days, but we have a high degree of certainty that the aliens will lift and leave the Bellamonde system in the next 90 to 120 days.>
Silence greeted Z’s announcement. The three humans had been hoping for a small miracle, a year or more in which to prepare to take the fight to the aliens and, most importantly, to prepare for a complete and orderly exodus of Libre. Now the SADEs had just blown away the deck from under their feet.
When the silence continued, Cordelia spoke up. <We recognize our conclusion is very disappointing, Admiral.>
Julien mentally winced at Cordelia’s attempt to ease the trauma of the announcement. He knew it was a time to remain quiet and let the three humans absorb and digest the dire prediction.
<It’s worse than disappointing, Cordelia,> said Alex, out of courtesy, refraining from saying what had really popped into his mind. <During your research, were you able to postulate where the aliens would go next, Libre or Méridien?> Alex asked, hoping for some good news.
<Yes, Admiral,> said Julien. <You should remain seated. Libre is eight light-years from Bellamonde, while Méridien is fourteen light-years. Libre has a plethora of resources and many of the rare ore deposits we think the aliens seek. Méridien has exhausted its resources. The odds favor the swarm coming to Libre by 97 percent.>
<What does this time frame mean to the Librans? I mean, to the launch of your city-ships, the exodus?> Renée asked.
<At present, Ser,> Cordelia responded, <we estimate that final readiness of the ships will be completed in 152 days. The loading of the remaining supplies will require another fourteen days, and the subsequent exodus of the remaining Librans from the planet would add another twelve days, providing the shuttles run continuously … a total of 178 days.>
<We conclude that this places the Librans in a most precarious situation, Admiral,> Z added.
<I would agree, Z,> Alex replied calmly, though internally his emotions were roiling. <Where do we stand on the construction efficiency improvements I requested?>
Renée and Andrea locked eyes on Alex. Renée was pleased to know Alex was ahead of them; Andrea wanted to know why she hadn’t heard of Alex’s request.
<It’s completed, Admiral,> Julien answered. <But in light of this new information, it appears inadequate.>
<Then you have until tomorrow morning at 10 hours to get me a new schedule, and not just for construction. I want a plan for exodus that puts those big-ass ships, with a full planet evacuation, out of the system as quick as possible. Julien, we need a conference on the Freedom with the Leaders at 11 hours. All senior officers and their seconds are to attend. Good night, all.>
After Andrea left the suite, Renée prepared thé while Alex took a long refresher. Afterward they sat close on the lounger wrapped in their robes and sipping the hot drink. Later, Renée removed Alex’s mug from his hands and set it on the low table. He had been holding the empty mug in his hands for half an hour.
“Alex, we will not solve this dilemma tonight, nor will we win the war tomorrow. Please, it’s time for bed.”
Alex levered himself off the lounger, offered Renée his hand, and led the way to the bedroom. The war won’t be won tomorrow, Alex thought, but I would have liked the opportunity to take the fight to that mother ship just once before we had to run away.
-17-
At 11 hours the following morning, the Rêveur’s senior officers, their seconds, the Leaders, the Libran Captains, their seconds, and everyone’s security escorts assembled in Freedom’s largest conference room. The SADEs were linked to the group.
<Well, Admiral, you called this meeting,> said Eric. <I take it you have some news of import.>
<Sers, you have a significant problem,> Alex began. <Your present timetable for evacuation of the planet, if you stick to your schedule, is 178 days.>
Eric looked to Captain Reinhold, who decided to confirm the timetable estimate with Z.
<Yes, the Admiral’s timeline is correct, Captain,> Z announced to the entire group. <One would wonder why you are questioning the Admiral’s information, since it would be obvious to most that he would have acquired that information from us.>
Captain Reinhold was so taken aback from what he considered an outrageous breach of protocols from a SADE that he couldn’t reply.
<Why, the SADEs, Leader Stroheim,> Z said.
<As I was saying, Sers,> Alex continued, <you have a timeline of 178 days until you are ready to exit this system. However, our SADEs have performed some intricate calculations to estimate the time that the drones, or shells, or whatever you wish to call them, will spend on Bellamonde. Their research has determined that the Bellamonde group will swarm in the next 90 to 120 days.>
Alex allowed time for the information to be absorbed. He had prepared his people earlier this morning so they would have time to wrap their minds around it, but glancing around the room, none of them were handling it any better than the Librans, except for Renée and the twins, which Alex found a little disconcerting.
<Z, Cordelia, Julien,> Alex said, <would you be so kind as to run through your analysis for the group?>
The SADEs walked everyone through their research—Alex’s and Julien’s hypotheses of the subterranean nature of the aliens, the historical infestation of the planets, the original surveys of the planet’s resources, the tunneling of the shells that could be correlated to survey sites of rare mineral resources, calculations of the resources on Bellamonde when the swarm invaded, and, finally, the harvest time the drones would require, based on their landing rates on Bellamonde over the past seven and a half years.
The intricacy of the assimilated data floored even the technically minded among the group. It was an incredible amount of data sifting and correlation. Others just fixated on the end result: time had run out.
Eric Stroheim was fuming and after a while could not contain his indignation. <This is inconceivable. Why weren’t we informed earlier?> he asked, directing his anger at Alex.
<Why don’t you ask them, Leader Stroheim?> Alex simply offered.
When no question was forthcoming from the Leader, the most sensitive of the SADEs relented. Cordelia answered Eric’s question. <Leader Stroheim, it was not a matter of deciding when to tell you. The information we have provided was buried in an extraordinary amount of uncorrelated data. The only reason that we have come to this conclusion at all is because the Admiral asked questions and Julien directed our research. One question led to answers that produced other questions that led to more answers until, finally, we’ve arrived here.>
<I would like to add one thought for you, Leader Stroheim,> Z said. <When you ask a question like, “Why weren’t we informed earlier?” the presumption is that we have a vested interest in withholding information from you. I would like to point out we are sitting in the same escape pods as you. What reason could we have for withholding information?>
At that moment, Cordelia wished she had a human body. With
it, she would have kissed Z.
<Z, you are my SADE,> Eric stated. <It is not in your right to question me.>
<On the contrary, Leader,> Z replied. <According to my contract, I am required to maintain this ship, direct its flight per the Captain’s orders, and respond to the bridge crew’s requests. Unfortunately, Leader Stroheim, you are not mentioned in the contract. Furthermore, all requests of me are to concern this ship’s operation. There is nothing in the contract that requires me to produce research. The work I have done for the Admiral is of my own volition.>
Tomas regarded Eric, who was mutely appealing to him. <The contract negotiated with our city-ship SADEs is quite detailed, Leader Stroheim,> Tomas stated. <I would advise you take time to read it.>
Eric looked around the room and found no sympathy for him on the faces that surrounded him. In fact, many were displaying a level of disregard uncommon on the faces of Méridiens. Eric Stroheim, proud Leader of House Bergfalk, relented. <Do you have a plan, Admiral?>
<No, I don’t,> Alex was happy to say, enjoying the shocked expression on the Leader’s face. But before the others in the room could panic, he said, <But I’ve asked our SADEs to ready one for this meeting. Who would like to begin?>
<I will, Admiral,> Julien answered. <We have prioritized all operations for the flight-readiness of all ships and loading of personnel. Supplies are secondary. The war effort is tertiary. But not to worry, Admiral, we can save much of our manufactured materials. If our timetable is followed without question, the city-ships and the Money Maker can achieve minimal flight-readiness with all Librans aboard within 122 days. Any days of grace we have after this period will allow us to better complete our preparations.>
Andrea reviewed her recording of the conversation to ensure that she had understood Z’s original projection correctly. <Z, you stated your research projected the aliens will swarm between 90 to 120 days from now. The aliens would take another ten days or so to arrive at Arno.>
<That’s correct, Captain,>