Planet of trechery, p.21
Planet Of Trechery, page 21
The robot came at him with impersonal determination, and Pias had to keep backing away, circling around the room in and out of tight corners, trying to maneuver for better position. But there was no better position, not in these narrow spaces. Even under peaceful conditions, ship's engineers had difficulty maneuvering themselves through the cramped confines of the drive room to check on or repair any component of the ship. Pias looked for a good place to stand and found none. He dared not even swing his wrench until he could be assured of a solid blow; with the robot's amazing reflexes it could easily wrest the weapon away from him given any chance at all.
This should be Jules's fight, one small detached part of him thought. He's the physical one. I'm the one who likes to think his way out of things.
The robot kept coming, quick as lightning, relentless as the sea.
In backing up, Pias bumped his left elbow hard against the protruding knob of a small hatch labeled "Contaminant Flush." Luckily the wrench was in his other hand, or he would have dropped it as he yowled with pain. The robot only smiled and kept advancing-but in the middle of the pain, the flash of an idea occurred to Pias.
It would be too late to try it right now; the positions were wrong. He backed up again, continuing around another circuit of the room, trying to maneuver his opponent into exactly the configuration he wanted. He only prayed he would have enough strength in his right arm to make it work.
As they reached the Contaminant Flush hatch again, Pias planted his feet firmly and refused to back away any farther. The robot smiled, seeing this as a positive sign that the fight would soon be over, and rushed forward even faster. Its eyes watched the wrench in Pias's right hand, confident that was the only danger it faced.
As the machine came toward him, Pias reached out with his left hand and pulled open the hatch cover for the Contaminant Flush chute. The robot, seeing this sudden move, tried to slow down to avoid running into the open cover that was now between itself and its target-and in that instant, Pias swung his wrench downward at the robot's head with all the strength his body possessed.
The robot reached up quickly, grabbing the handle of the wrench before it could reach its head and gripping it tightly to yank it out of Pias's grasp. Pias continued his downward momentum so hard that his feet actually left the ground. So strong was the follow-through that it pulled the robot off its feet and banged it against the side of the open hatch. Before it could recover, Pias pushed it toward the opening and shoved it into the chute, swinging the hatch shut behind it and locking it with a decided clang that rang through the room.
The chute was meant as an emergency disposal tube for anything within the spaceship that became contaminated by radiation from the drive. Before the robot could react and fight its way out, Pias pressed the button at the side of the hatch. With a silent whoosh of air, the robot was ejected from the tube and out of the ship into the dark depths of space beyond the hull.
Pias leaned against the wall and found himself collapsing into a sitting position on the floor. His arms and legs were trembling with the aftershock, and it took a moment for him to steady them. That, he decided, was entirely too close.
The job was not finished though, he knew. The robot did not need to breathe, and had not been "killed" simply by being ejected into space. It was helpless for the moment, hanging in the void with no means of getting back to the ship, but it was still functioning and potentially dangerous. He would have to take care of that.
As soon as his legs were steady enough to stand on, he climbed back to his feet and returned up the ladder to the control room. He checked the gunnery screen, and soon had the robot lined up in his sights. The scout ship was equipped with short-range spaceblasters, 'and Pias made ample use of them. The robot was a very small target for the aiming computer to zero in on, but four shots were sufficient to blow the robot apart.
That done, Pias turned on the subcom once more and beamed a message back to the pirate base. "Yes?" Yvette answered cautiously.
"I got it," Pias said, and went on to describe in detail his fight with the robot.
Yvette was beside herself with joy. "I knew you could do it. I'm proud of you, my brave, clever husband. That means that all four of Lady A's robots we know about are destroyed."
"Leaving perhaps many more that we don't know about," Pias cautioned, trying to keep a sense of proportion. "It also leaves you alone at the pirate base and me alone out here. Neither of us can pilot a spaceship, so we're totally at the Universe's mercy. Tell me, what was the robot's plan in getting me out here'?"
Yvette explained what she and Fortier had learned, that the area where Pias's ship was currently floating was booby-trapped, waiting to destroy the Navy ships that blundered into it.
"We've already told the fleet to come on in," Pias said. "They may be on their way here this instant."
Yvette's face was grim. "They'll have to be stopped if we're going to save the fleet and send them on to reinforce Earth." "Don't worry," Pias said. "You've done your job by warning me about the robot, and Fortier is doing his by warning the near-Earth bases. Now it's time for me to do mine by warning the fleet. Never fear, my love, I'll think of something."
But as his wife's image faded from the screen, he had to admit to himself that he'd projected more confidence than he truly felt. He made a quick try to raise the fleet by subcom, but there was no response. As he'd feared, the ships had already gone into subspace on their way to this rendezvous point. They would be unable to receive subcom calls again until they materialized here-at which time it would be far too late.
Pias sat for several minutes staring at the complex assemblage of dials, meters, buttons, knobs, switches and blinking red, green, blue and amber lights that comprised the instrument panel. He'd seen other people maneuver those controls, but they were a total mystery to him. That one over there looked as though it might activate the engines; this set here probably put the ship into subspace; and those switches at the top seemed to be the directional jets. There were others whose functions he couldn't even guess at. And of course, the ship was not equipped with an instruction manual.
"I'll think of something," he said to himself under his breath. "But it had better be good and it had better be fast!"
Chapter 18
The Coronation Day Incursion
While the eyes of the Galaxy were focused on the events at Bloodstar Hall, the Empire's fate was actually being contested in space many kilometers away. Lord Admiral Benevenuto, though he'd been expecting the attack tomorrow rather than today, nonetheless had all his forces on the alert, ready for signs of trouble-and, while he would have liked to attend the Coronation himself, he stayed at his post on Luna Base to handle anything that might come up.
Thus, when the pirate fleet dropped out of subspace into the solar system, he was not exactly surprised by its appearance. What did startle him, though, was its size. The attackers were two thousand strong, nearly double the numbers that the information from SOTE-supposedly obtained under nitrobarb-had led anyone to suspect. "Bozhe moi"' exclaimed the admiral under his breath. "It's a regular armada!"
He had known that his forces would be outnumbered, but not this badly. The reinforcements that were scheduled to arrive from the faraway bases wouldn't be here until tomorrow--and even they would be barely sufficient to counter this much larger force he was facing.
His first order of business was to mobilize the forces of Earth. Luna Base was suddenly so alive with bells and sirens that the whole moon seemed to ring with the alarms. Many of these warning signals had never rung before except during drills-but, as the admiral's voice was now informing everyone on the base, this was no drill. War had come to the Empire, on a scale not seen since the infamous Dukes' Revolt shortly after the Empire's foundation.
Men and women scrambled madly to their battle stations. Security had kept a tight lid on the knowledge of this attack, and none of them had been expecting anything out of the ordinary. Many of them, off duty, had been watching the Coronation themselves. Now some were confused and many were frightened by the startling turn of events, but-in tribute to their training and dedication-they carried on despite their confusion and their fear.
Within five minutes of the enemy fleet's appearance, the advance ships of the Empire's forces lifted off the moon on an intercept course. Other ships under Earth's command, in orbital positions around the solar system. began converging on a given spot where the defenders intended to engage their adversaries in the coming battle-a spot well above the ecliptic plane and as far from Earth itself as could be managed.
The attackers had the advantage of numbers, which also gave them a choice of the attack formation they would use. As their fleet sailed relentlessly toward the Earth, the ships clustered together in a large ball, with the smaller ships around the perimeter and the bigger guns in toward the center.
Odd, thought Benevenuto. That's a defensive formation, a formation you use when you're outnumbered and under attack in open space. It doesn't make sense here. They've got so many little ships clustered about that they don't even have room to fire off the big ones.
Arguments were flying fast and furious through the War Room at Luna Base as the board of admirals sat around the conference table and watched the three-dimensional representations floating within the screens. Standard procedure when the enemy clustered that way was to form the defending ships into a loose-knit globe around the center, firing in from all angles and pouring as much energy as possible into the cluster's heart. Several admirals argued that the Navy should be doing just that, but Benevenuto demurred. "Let's stay spread out for now." he said. "We'll see if they make their move."
At Bloodstar Hall, there was a scheduled break in the ceremony during which the Empress was to have a small snack and refresh herself. She was informed of the attack at this time, but merely nodded gravely and said, "The Navy will do its job. Meanwhile, the ceremony will continue as planned.
Edna also took this opportunity to change her outfit, so that when she returned to the dais she was wearing a more modern long silver gown, heavily jeweled. Over this she wore her robe of state, and her crown atop her head. Liu appeared beside her, now wearing a white robe and purple mantle. She presented him with a real sword now, symbol of his role as her defender, and the two sat side by side through the proceedings.
Even if her personal presence could have made a difference in the battle. Edna would not have called a halt in the coronation ceremony that was laboriously grinding its way through the afternoon. Her facial expressions were kept under rigid control all the way as the speeches and the formula recitations droned on. She would accept a noble's oath of fealty with the graciousness of a born ruler, give that person a half-smile of personal warmth, and then sit back to await the coming of the next. Most monarchs called the Coronation the longest day of their lives, and Edna could easily understand why. The extra tension in her case only made it worse.
She was determined, though, to go through with every last word and gesture of it. We are all born with our various duties in life, she thought during a lull in the ritual. The men and women of my Navy are doing theirs this minute; should they expect that I would do any less than mine'
The hours dragged by, too, in the War Room as the two fleets slowly narrowed the gap between them. The pirate armada continued to fly in its tight cluster formation, contrary to all rules of custom and logic. Three-quarters of the high command voted to englobe. To silence them, Benevenuto had simulations run in the war games computer. The result of each simulation was the same: the computer also said to englobe.
"If we wait too much longer," one admiral insisted, "they'll break through our lines and we won't be able to englobe." Benevenuto stood firm in his decision. The pirates' cluster was not an efficient attack formation. It was a feint, it had to be. He knew, as surely as he drew breath, that englobing would be a tactical mistake of the worst order. Resolutely he kept his ships aligned on a plane perpendicular to the cluster's course, a wall that was always between the invaders and the Earth. In the computer simulation, they watched the lights representing the pirate armada approach the wall formed by Earth's Navy. Soon the two forces would be within firing range and the battle would begin in earnest. The Empire ships on the wall near the point of contact would be able to fire at the cluster, but those farther away would be out of range and ineffective. The cluster, like a demolition ball, would punch right through the plane of defense and keep on going.
"Commence firing as soon as the cluster is within range," Benevenuto ordered. "And tell the defense to retreat, keeping a constant firing distance between our wall and their cluster. Any ships in the center damaged or destroyed are to be replaced by vessels from the periphery-but we stay, at all times, between Earth and the invading force."
"Retreat is suicide!" Admiral Carswell cried. "We want to keep their ships as far from Earth as possible. We must englobe and attack now."
"May I remind you that we're outnumbered, Admiral?" Benevenuto said calmly. "In our present formation, all of our ships are between Earth and the enemy; if we were to englobe, the majority of our ships would be on other sides, leaving only token resistance in the enemy's path. That cluster is not an attack formation. They're only using it to draw us into a globe so they can make their real move. Gentlemen and ladies, we will not be drawn. We will force them to make their move first, even if it means strategic withdrawal."
The two fleets were now within firing range, and the simulation on the screen showed that a fight was definitely taking place. It was still at a low level because only a few ships were involved on either side. For the pirates, only their ships in the outer layer of the cluster on the side facing the wall had any chance of hitting anything; and for the Navy, only those ships at the contact point of the wall could fire back at the attackers. Slowly the wall was pressed backwards toward the Earth as the pirate cluster, with its superior numbers, pushed forward trying to break through the line of defense.
On Earth, the sun was setting on the western coast of North America as the formal acceptance ceremony at Bloodstar Hall was drawing to a close. After the last oath of fealty was given and acknowledged, it was customary for the new ruler to give a speech. Edna had had a long one all prepared, but the situation now seemed to require her presence elsewhere. She abandoned her prepared text and instead made a few off-the-cuff remarks. She thanked all who had attended and all who wished her and the Empire well. She praised her father for the wisdom and the peace that characterized his reign, and made a solemn promise to do all within her power to continue in his course. She concluded by asking for everyone's courage and support during the Empire's current crisis-a request that startled her Galaxy-wide audience, since most people hadn't known there was a crisis. They were soon to learn otherwise.
The official ceremonies concluded, Edna swept out of Bloodstar Hall, trailing majesty behind her like the train of her gown. Traditionally she should have taken the same horse drawn coach back to the Imperial Palace where the Coronation Dinner and Ball were to be held. Edna, however, had paid enough compromise to tradition today, and had no patience for more while there was a war on. She and her father instead boarded the official copter and sped back to the palace, where Edna announced that the celebrations were postponed for a week during the emergency.
Once back in the palace, Edna and her father went directly to the Council Chamber, where a direct link-up with Luna Base was already waiting for them. While Benevenuto and his staff kept abreast of developments, a senior aide filled the new Empress in on everything that had happened so far. The arguments for and against englobement were summarized, and Edna listened gravely. Her father sat down beside her, out of camera range, and squeezed her hand to give her confidence. The decisions were all hers to make, now, but he let her know he was there to lend his opinion if needed.
When the situation had been summarized, Edna called Benevenuto over to the line to talk personally. "Are you sure this cluster of theirs is just a feint?" she asked her Lord of the Admiralty.
"They can't attack Earth in that formation," Benevenuto replied. "All their big firepower is in the center; they haven't enough artillery on the-surface of their sphere to do much damage. They're just trying to entice us into committing ourselves before making their move."
"The bulk of the advice seems to be in favor of englobement.
Benevenuto drew himself up proudly. "I can only go by the accumulated instincts of forty years in the Navy. I'd stake my reputation on that opinion."
"You are staking your reputation," Edna said coolly, "and a whole lot more, besides. The Empire itself may be riding on this battle."
"All the more reason, Your Majesty, to act the way I know is right."
"I'll pray for both of us, Admiral. Carry on."
The Empress broke the connection and turned to look at her father. The look of imperious command she had affected for her officers' sake was gone now, replaced by one of indecision. "Did I do the right thing?" she asked.
"Time will tell you better than I can," William Stanley said, putting an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. "But I didn't appoint Cesare Benevenuto Lord of the Admiralty just because I liked his mustache. When you know someone's an expert, you trust him in his field of expertise." He smiled. "If it's any consolation, I would have done the same thing you just did."
At Luna Base, Lord Admiral Benevenuto was unaware of this vote of Imperial confidence. As minutes dragged into an hour, and then two, his problems only increased. The pirate cluster was coming closer and closer to Earth's orbit, and his wall of defense was retreating at an equal pace. The enemy had made no move to disperse its cluster. More and more of the admirals were crying for englobement. Computer simulations were saying that englobement was the only strategy, and that its implementation was urgent.
