The long view, p.15
The Long View, page 15
part #2 of The Long View Series
"Ivan-how can that be? Your alternates-"
"Just take my word for it-Graf Spee's not a command ship now. You'll have to go on broadcast and reassign all of Falconer, because-"
Tregare said, "Because what, Ivan? I don't understand. It's not clear-"
The sound, before Ivan spoke, might have been a laugh. "You know something, Tregare? If I'm not clear-well, that's just too fucking bad, isn't it? I've made my report and now 1 have to get back to Ilse if she's still alive-and the rest of it's up to you. Piet, he'll pass the orders to me."
"Ivan!" But the circuit was dead. Rissa looked to Tregare. "If she dies-"
He scowled. "Peace knows I value the woman and I'm sorry for your brother. But the way he's talking, just as well we do break up Falconer and get him out of the line of command. We don't have lime for how anybody feels about anything!"
"Do we not, Bran?"
She saw him shudder and relax. "All right-I wish we did. Now then-Kobolak, how long until we overtake? Do you know?"
"Of course-I'm monitoring continuous readout. A half hour, a little more. And you said you wanted a slow pass-this time we'll really get one."
"Yeah? How slow?"
"Could be as much as three minutes-five, total contact."
"That's slow enough to use the scouts. Get them out-each to stay with its own squadron."
tregare assigned four Falconer ships to the adjacent Malloy. "Kickem's short two, and peace knows what he'll try this time." The other three, Graf Spee included, went to Zelde M'tana's Parnell. Then, still on squadron circuit, he said, "Change of plan. Shift to orginal dish, centered on Renalle again. But with M'tana on Valkyrie commanding the outside
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squadrons. Because while everybody else makes the outside pass, same as before, I'm taking Renalle up the inside. And, Kickem-don't come through this time, or we might mistake each other for somebody else.''
"Why, I wouldn't dream of it, Tregare-you're too fast a shot."
When the circuit was closed, Rissa said, "Bernardez sounds most independent of late. Are you sure-?"
"You mean, like Peralta? No." He paused, features relaxed. "With Kickem-when he blows his ego out through his ears, all good-humored this way-it just means he's happy with himself."
"If you are certain ..."
"I am, Rissa. And another thing-he's not one to hunger after someone else's place. He enjoys making his own-and then making the most of it."
She thought, then smiled. "Yes. That fits what I have seen of Kickem."
"Just so he doesn't get any more expensive bright ideas..."
ozzie had lost ships; the cone looked ragged. Tregare's dish formation spread to contain it while Renalle stayed on center course. The cone had begun to turn sideways, but the angle, Rissa saw, was not prohibitive.
"Zelde," she said, "in a few moments we will be cut off. Your relays are in order?"
"It's all working-the new ships you assigned, and everything. We're ready-even the command circuit, though frankly I'm not sure Tregare made the right choice. Never thought I'd be doing such a thing."
"I am sure you and Jamie will handle the outside squadrons well."
"Well, the plan's clear enough-and don't worry-I won't take quite the chances I did last time. Damn near lost my ass."
"That would be a tragic loss, Zelde. And now-we meet the enemy."
slaughter, she thought-ahead, the UET ships still turning, their formation hanging quartered away from Tregare's at-
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tack. But as the range closed, first one and then more of the enemy swung to face the threat.
"Somebody realized what was happening," said Tregare. "And look! They're trying to close this end of the cone. But too late now, Ozzie! Another minute and Renalle's inside you!''
Rissa watched. Inconnu, the six other ships almost abreast, passed the tightening circle, exchanged a few shots-she saw no damage to either fleet.
"Up this side and rake 'em!" Tregare shouted, and Renalle veered left. Projector burst dotted the screen. Then, when they were nearly halfway along the cone, Rissa saw something appear alongside and flash ahead, its projectors in continuous fire.
"What the hell is that!" Tregare scowled at the screen. "It's not part of ours." He opened the broadcast circuit, motioning to Kobolak to hold course.
"You up there-who are you? Why aren't you on station?"
"No time, Tregare! Squadron Falconer, what's left of it- Graf Spee, Ivan Marchant commanding." And then, "Rissa? It's good-bye, I think. Sorry-but I told you Newhausen was mine!" His voice gentled. "And Ilse-she'll live long enough to see it."
"Ivan!" Rissa screamed it. "Pull back-go in with the rest of us. We can-"
Ionization scratched random sound over his voice before she heard, "-she's got to know he's dead-I owe her that. Ivan Marchant out."
Rissa called; her brother did not answer. She said, "Renalle! Close with Graf Spee! We go in together." Turning to Tregare, "If you wish, you may countermand."
He shook his head. "I'll go with your hunch."
"With my need, Tregare."
"That too. Now then-give me the circuit. I've got to change some orders."
He spoke only a few moments, as Renalle shot ahead. The squadron pulled free of the cone wall, out of projector range; a few turrets still spat flickers of glare, but futilely.
"Ivan-he's got to slow now," said Tregare. "I don't know if we can catch him, but maybe-"
They waited; slowly the distance closed. Then, ahead; "Tregare! Newhausen's ship, it must be, with three others
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around it. And Ivan-he intends to ram!"
"He-no, we can't reach him-peace help him, Rissa, maybe he has to. But we'll-"
"No! Look!" On the screen Graf Spee blew one guarding ship apart and closed on the protected one. The images blurred together; a burst of light obscured them, and then
-"Tregare! See-the other ship is gone but Graf Spee survives. How-?"
"Later, Rissa! The closed tip of the cone-not much room there. We-"
But as Renalle, moving too fast for such close quarters,
-entered that blind alley, the ships ahead parted and opened a way. And Tregare said, "I think we've won. Let's find out."
on squadron circuit he said, "All ships and scouts turn to close again, but don't be in a hurry." Then on broadcast, in clear; "To all surviving UET ships-Bran Tregare offers amnesty for surrender. If you don't I'll wipe you out. But we need you, to help round up our cripples-on both sides-and save lives the best we can. I think your commander's a pile of plasma by now-who's next in charge? Answer on open frequencies."
Answer came. "Vice-admiral Jarlson speaking. What do you mean by amnesty? if you satisfy me I can speak for the entire fleet."
Tregare laughed. "That's easy to say when I can't spot you. Fire a projector to identify yourself." He waited. Then, to Inconnu's right and below, came a flare. "All right, Jarlson. Amnesty means you stay alive and go to Earth under guard. There you get a chance to join me or go groundside, however it turns out."
"Your offer's not all that attractive.''
"Neither is death; you have your choice." Then; "Squadron circuit-prepare for another pass. Destroy any ship that doesn't kill its drive in token of surrender."
"Wait, Tregare!" Jarlson's voice came hoarse. "You've gutted us-have some mercy!"
"I thought that was what I was doing. Look, Jarlson-I don't have a lot of time. Either accept terms or we'll get on with the killing. And-for several reasons-right now I don't give much of a damn which you do."
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The pause was not long. "All UET ships! Acting in lieu of Admiral Newhausen I surrender all of us to Admiral Tregare under the terms of his amnesty. Any breach of this surrender will be a capital offense."
"You're right," said Tregare. "But that's my department now." Then; "Zelde, you're in command again-take charge of the surrender festivities, will you? Set the scouts to work -each side checking its own wrecked ships-to rescue survivors. You can help UET out if they need it, but make it clear that treachery gets no mercy."
"Sure, Tregare-we can handle it. But why not you?"
"We've got a ship to find. See you later."
alone, Inconnu searched Northward for Graf Spee-and found that ship near to drifting, its drive working feebly in deceleration. Rissa's calls brought no answer; when the two ships neared, she saw the reason. "Tregare-the antenna systems are melted to rubble."
"Yeah. Kobolak-close and match velocity to rendezvous. Near as you can get without actually rubbing noses." And to Rissa, "At that range, voice will get through anyway."
It did, Ivan answered. "My screen's shot, but that's you, isn't it, Rissa? Tregare?"
"Yes, Ivan. What happened? Is Ilse-?"
"Still alive-barely-and conscious. Our medics-out of action. Can you-?"
Tregare said, "Kobolak! Get a medic team on the scout and over to Graf Spee about five minutes ago. Ivan-if your equipment's damaged-okay to bring her aboard here? You come, too, if Graf Spee can do without you."
Ivan's laugh was shaky. "What Graf Spee needs just now is a drive tech, not me."
"We can fix that. Anders-you heard?"
"Right."
Rissa could wait no longer. "But, Ivan-what happened?"
"Tell you when I get there. Rissa-right now I need a drink."
head bandaged, tapped with tubes for blood and glucose, Ilse Krueger was not the healthiest-looking person Rissa had ever
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seen. But Ivan said, "She's coming back so well-I wouldn't have believed it."
Then, in the galley-not only wine but spirits supplementing the coffee-Tregare said, "All right, Ivan-tell it. What the hell did you do?"
Ivan tipped back a shotglass; his face was regaining normal color. "Well, I went in berserk, you know-our missile circuits were out, so ram and have done with it. Ilse was good as dead, I thought, but she'd five as long as Newhausen. So I brought her over where she could see the screen, and told her. She couldn't talk but she shook her head, just barely-and I thought, no, she shouldn't let death make her afraid, so I said it again. She started to fade out and I gave her a hype-shot-she had to be there to see it, you understand. Then she came awake and told me what to do."
Rissa interrupted. "She told you?"
"Ilse, awake and in good sense, still had command. She said ramming was stupid. So what we did-went in close enough to throw rocks, almost-then launched the scout on drone, with drive set to blow at collision-and fired ahead, max accel."
"Well," said Tregare, "you got Ozzie, all right."
"And the blast wrecked our drive, mostly-but not before it threw us out of there. And then I waited, and hoped-and then you called. And now Ilse-she'll live."
"Right." Tregare nodded. "And peace knows we're glad of that. Now then-the drive techs said they could cobble up controls and get the ship working?"
"Yes-two days, maybe three."
"All right. We'll be longer, getting UET's ships-our new ships-under control, and searching for the missing ones. Let's head back and get started."
Now both fleets-Tregare's squadrons surrounding their defeated foes-used thrust to slow their Northward motion. As yet the two groups stayed apart. Then, after dinner of the day Inconnu rejoined his fleet, Tregare said, "It's time to tell everybody how we're going to work the changeovers. Let's go to Control."
On the way Rissa said, "You have planned it, how to handle the UET persons?"
"I think so."He told her.
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"I would not have thought of that. It is harsh, but will save much time."
In Control, Tregare arranged for general broadcast and for acknowledgment from all ships. When he was satisfied, he said, "Tregare speaking, to every ship and person here. Record this; everybody has to know it."
He waited, then said, "You UET people have my amnesty for all past actions. There's no grudge that you fought me; that was your job. But from now on, any act against me means death. Behave yourselves and you keep alive-at Earth you can join me or leave space. A lot of my people here came to me that same way."
He sipped coffee. "But for now, until I have the chance to check you out, I can't leave a UET officer on an armed ship. So you'll be moved to the decoys, and my own people will officer every ship that has weapons."
He frowned. "I know damned well, some of you out there still think you can beat the surrender. I'll tell you why you can't."
He consulted his notepad. "Here's how it works. One of my scouts comes to your ship and takes aboard your officers, leaving a few of my people in their place. They'll board you unarmed, take control, including ship's weapons-and you'll give them all personal arms, to lock up. You won't do anything cute like trying to take them hostage-because at any sign of ship personnel acting against me, that ship is dead."
Faint with distance, a voice said, "You'd kill your own?"
"Think about it. I could send armed parties in power suits, board each ship in force and search it, face you down with guns. Sure I could-but it'd take me months. This way we'll be done with it in about a week, by the time we're headed back toward Earth pretty well." He grinned. "There's just one thing."
He waited nearly a minute. "Don't let anybody sell you the stupid idea that Tregare doesn't mean exactly what he says. Because if you do, you're dead. Which doesn't bother me a lot, except that I'd hate to lose my people-and the ship-along with you. But you'd best believe, I'd do it. Don't try me out."
Another voice. "Terrell Ragan here. Channel K. Patch me into the broadcast?"
Hain Deverel threw a switch, looked up and nodded.
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Tregare said, "You're on it. You have something to add?"
"Yes." Then, "This is for the UET people. I'm Captain Terrell Ragan; I commanded the Trujillo in the NY66 fleet to Stronghold. When we got there it was Tregare's planet; we landed and he took us without a shot. We had the choice- join him and mean it, under truth field, or go to detention. I joined and was glad of the chance-and I've never regretted it."
"Acting commander Jarlson here! You mean-when you returned to Earth, and all this time, you've been Tregare's man?"
"That's right. And that's why I wangled outpost patrol when he was due to arrive."
"But-on Earth, how did you get away with it?"
"Trade secret," said Tregare. "Which reminds me-anybody out there that's on my side but don't think you could prove it, under truth field-don't worry. You'll ride the decoys, I'm afraid, but once groundside we'll get to you as soon as we can-and you'll check out all right. Until then, keep your string loose."
He laughed. "Sorry-that's a Hidden World term. Just keep cover and relax."
Jarlson's voice. "Tregare, you're a madman! Do you think you can take Earth?"
"Peace and population, man-what the hell you think 1 came for? And right now, what's to stop me?"
From Jarlson came no answer.
the work continued. A scout located Parnell's missing cripple, drive jury-rigged, limping back to rejoin the fleet. No one found trace of the ship vanished from Gowdy's squadron. On Squadron circuit Tregare said, "It's been a rough five days- six?-I've lost track."
On split screen he viewed his Top Hats. Ilse, still aboard Inconnu, was replaced in the picture by UET's Jarlson. Ivan had protested but Tregare said, "We have to coordinate some of the information with him. It's not as if we're telling him anything he can't find out."
Now he said, "Time for an overall summary. Squadrons, record for transmission to all ships. All right-out of thirty-five ships we lost ten-three destroyed, two missing, five crip-
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pled too bad to salvage-and we're going back with two that aren't in shape to fight. That one of yours, Zelde, and Graf Spec. And we lost six of our twenty-five scouts, on that second pass.
"That's roughly thirty percent losses. We're lucky, though -we lost people in less than half that proportion. The rescue operation was damned good, is why."
Zelde M'tana said, "What's the figures for UET? From where I'm sitting, I can't get a count."
Instead of answering, Tregare said, "Jarlson-you got here with forty-two ships. How many were armed? And how many of each kind took off from Earth?"
The UET man said, "We started with sixty, thirty-eight armed. In your surprise mutinies-I assume you set those up, somehow-we lost eight armed and ten of the others, either Escaped clean or went dead on us. So we met you with thirty armed and twelve decoys. Is that what you wanted to know?"
