Part 24 (1/2)
Strange. And disturbing. He tried to ignore the sensation, focusing his attention on the display and its meaning. The Conqueror had sent a single fighter to accompany the Venture's pilots . . . why? Because the new s.h.i.+p was technologi- cally superior, and would give Azea the advantage? Because it was still experimental, and needed to be tested in the context of a traditional battle?
The Conqueror: what role did it play in all this? He called up a list that Herek had compiled, an a.n.a.lysis of the enemy's hierarchy in each of the battles that had been lost. No pattern. Here the Destroyer had been in command, there it was the Venture . . . the Conqueror wasn't even listed in the command sequence. It was extremely active, though; he noted its presence in each of the crucial battles.
And stopped, chilled.
”Computer?” he asked softly.
He had programmed it to answer him aloud, in the manner of his House.
RESPONSIVE.
”Speculate. Odds of a starcommander being given authority over those with higher rank and/or greater seniority. Current Star Empire, War Border.”
There was a moment's pause as it chose its data.
.000012 + , it answered. UNLIKELY, BUT POSSIBLE.
”Data?”
PRECEDENT. ONE: PERIA LI UZUAN, a.s.sIGNED THE VENGEANCE 8194- 8240 A.E. TWO: TAEN ER KALLEDAS, a.s.sIGNED THE GUARDIAN 9056-.
9099 A.E. THREE: TABYA ZI OKROS (LATER EMPRESS), a.s.sIGNED THE.
DESTROYER-.
”Enough. Other data?”
CURRENT DIRECTOR TORZHA ER LITZ NOTED FOR NONTRADITIONAL.
ORIENTATION REGARDING STAR-CONTROL POLICY. SOURCES:.
a.n.a.lYSES, PRECEDENT, STATEMENT OF POLICY. REQUEST SPECIFICS?.
”No.” The feeling that had bothered him was growing more intense, but it was not enough to distract him. What if a single mind had masterminded Herek's recent defeats? That made the problem finite, thus correctable. He was on to something. ”Other data?”
SPONSORs.h.i.+P BINDING DIRECTOR ER LITZ AND STARCOMMANDER.
LYU MITETHE, a.s.sIGNED THE CONQUEROR. CLOSE PERSONAL INTEREST.
INCREASES ODDS OF FAVORITISM.
Sponsors.h.i.+p. It had no parallel in the Braxin system, so his understanding of it was limited. Unless one compared it to the Kaim'erate tradition of having an established member bring forth the name of an aspirant for consideration . . . yes, and in that case there was often favoritism. How much more so among the Azeans, who had no reason to fear a protege's treachery?
So there could well be one mind behind it all. One single mind: eccentric, unpredictable, capable of second-guessing the Talon-Commander with rare ac.u.men. And dangerous- very dangerous. There was a pattern in the very oddity of the engagements. In how often the enemy would initiate a confrontation in the open Void. In how this Starcommander seemed to know certain details of Herek's planning-details that should never have gotten out-and yet was unaware of others, as though a supreme effort of will might net him one or two secrets, but no more.
Here was a pattern that could be a.n.a.lyzed-an enemy that could be defeated.
He had rendered the problem finite, and thus were his goals defined. To understand the enemy, so that he might neutralize and destroy him. To restore Herek's reputation by giving him the key to victory. And to set his own mark upon the Border fleet, so that the name of Zatar became synonomous with triumph. That was the most important goal, which had brought him to the Border in the first place.
Circ.u.mstances were playing right into his glove.
It was while they were astrogating the long, empty stretch between Irya and Zeliash that Herek's optimism began to return to him. Perhaps that was because the Lord Commander made such a show of confidence; genuine or feigned, it was rea.s.suring. Perhaps the promise of battle was awakening the warrior in him, driving out his lethargy and the doubt that had accompanied it. Perhaps it was simply that the Braxana's presence was a constant reminder that the Holding had chosen to support him. Whatever the reason, as he slipped the contact band over his head and prepared to launch his senses into the Void, it was with a more positive att.i.tude than he had felt in many months.
Before he could lose himself in the talon's contact network the door slid open. It was Zatar. Herek tipped the contact band back on his head, out of its proper alignment. And waited.
The Braxana looked around the room, at the dozens of men who were carefully not watching him, and nodded. ”How is our contact network?”
”Good; not without holes, as you see,” he indicated the screen, ”but it is extensive.”
Zatar studied the display, nodding as he did so. A wars.h.i.+p's scanners could only accomplish so much; in order to detect fine detail at great distances, it was necessary to send out a portable scanner bound in relay to the mothers.h.i.+p. Thus a hundred scouts, perhaps more, were presently combing the Void for data, each of them forwarding their readings back to the Sentira for coordination and display. The trouble was that such a widefaring network as this one was, by definition, thin. There were areas of darkness which no scanner could reach- holes in the net, they called it-and these were dangerous weaknesses. The contact periphery, however, was solid, and extended far into the Void on all sides of the mothers.h.i.+p. That was what Zatar wanted. That was what would keep them from being surprised again.
”The Dar'mat should be in position by now.”
Herek nodded. ”Hand in glove so far. Do you mind if I take a look?” He indicated the contact band.
Zatar motioned for him to proceed.
He settled the band back in place about his head, felt the click of its sensors as they locked into position over the implants within his skull. Now: he relaxed, letting the inner vision come. A normal man was limited to flatscreens and starmaps if he wanted to view the Void. The flatscreen, of course, was two- dimensional, therefore of limited value in battle. The starmap was better, but a man was still limited by the senses he used in viewing it. You could only be on one side of a starmap at a time-even if you stood in the middle of the display, you could only see in one direction without turning. Man had no eyes in the back of his head . . . until science created them.
It had taken him years to adapt to the band, long zhents of hypno-treatment designed to teach him an alternate mode of vision, while keeping it distinct from his regular sight. It gave him an advantage no unaugmented man could equal.
Now, as he looked out into the darkness, he saw s.h.i.+ps on all sides of him. He was their center, their focus, their guardian. There was nothing they could do that he would not see, no data coming in through their scanners that he would not share.
Nor would there be a delay while he translated flatmaps into starfields in his mind; science and the strength of his will had made that unnecessary.
Carefully he looked over the network, dictating orders which would close up too large a hole here, extend the periphery there. Balance was crucial, as both Commanders knew. And this was more than mere exercise. Though their next objective was a day's flight in the distance, this was the time when their risk was the greatest-the time when the Conqueror usually chose to strike. If Zatar was right, they could expect action soon-if not an attack, at least a scouts.h.i.+p. For which reason the swords.h.i.+ps were already out, ready to move at a moment's notice.
Almost in answer to his train of thought, a signal came speeding in over the network. AZEAN SCOUTs.h.i.+P, it said. IDENT CON419:FA12. TRANSMITTING VECTOR COORDINATES.
”Lock onto it,” he ordered.
The Master of Armaments determined its course, set up a firing sequence that would intercept it. And was ready to fire when the scouts.h.i.+p disappeared, swallowed up by a long stretch of scanner-darkness.
”Ar!” Herek's hand hit the console in frustration. ”Proceed with attack,” he instructed his men. ”Determine all possible course adjustments, points of exit.
Get them covered.”
There was a hand on his shoulder.
”What?”
Zatar's eyes were fixed on the central display. ”That isn't a scouts.h.i.+p,” he muttered.
He understood at once. ”Sezal's fighter. . . .”
”It has to be taken.We have to have that s.h.i.+p.”
He shook his head; taking a fighter alive was a next-to-impossible task, all the more so when it could easily outrun its attackers. ”Not possible. We'll get it when it's back in range; that's the best I can do.”
Zatar's hand on his shoulder tightened. ”The secret of that s.h.i.+p is worth more than a single battle.”