As it turned out, Lake had been giving the Starwolves detailed reports of those attacks, probably under the assumption that they had been making their own observations. And since they had, Captain Tarrel was able to read both sets of reports. Either the Starwolves saw more, or they wrote much better reports.
Things had gone generally from bad to much worse. After the fight with the Kerridayen, the Dreadnought had disappeared completely for several days before appearing halfway across Union space and beginning a new pattern of attack. This new pattern was much more difficult to predict; the Dreadnought now appeared to be making a large and apparently random change of location after every three attacks. Having met Starwolves once, it seemed to have decided to make itself a little harder to find, and it was apparently not quite as stupid as Trendaessa Kerridayen had expected. Captain Tarrel agreed with the Starwolves’ own assumption that the single greatest factor in the Dreadnought’s change of tactics was because the Union had been anticipating its movements and evacuating the traffic from the systems in its path.
She meant to make an issue of her belief in her message to Sector Commander Lake. One thing that she could not see in these reports, but anticipated just the same, was the pettiness of the Sector Families. The Starwolves were unable to stop the Dreadnought or turn its attacks, at least not fast enough for the Trade Companies and their masters who were losing property and profits to this menace, and no doubt chaffing under the terms of the truce. She was the only one able to see what the Starwolves were actually doing, and she had to keep the Union pacified by reporting that they were indeed doing their best. Her concern was really not so much for the Union; the Sector Families and Company tyrants could chew their misfortune raw and without salt for all that she was concerned. But she did not want their grumbling to discourage the Starwolves, who had every reason to let the Dreadnought eat the Union alive.
As far as that went, there remained a part of her that was still cynical enough to find it hard to believe that the Starwolves were willing to put themselves to such trouble for their ancient enemies, even admitting that the Union was in as much danger as they believed. She could agree that they had never wanted the collapse of Terran civilization, or they would have destroyed the Union themselves long ago. But she also suspected that they wanted to find some way to defeat the Dreadnought while the fighting could be done in Union space. The Republic apparently held only a bare handful of worlds, their only support, and the Dreadnought could run through them in a matter of days as matters stood now. Tarrel could see that her primary importance was as the grease that would keep the axle and the wheel from squeaking, and the duties and powers granted to her in diplomatic charter suggested that Sector Commander Lake had convinced the Union High Council to use her in that very capacity.
She composed her initial report and sent it out, then she allowed herself to be escorted to her apartment in the visitor’s quarters of the government section of the station. She thought that the Republic must entertain visitors no more often than once in a thousand years, so she was glad to see that someone had been sent up to clean the place first. There was certainly no reason for complaint with these rich and spacious lodgings, except that she was not used to being treated like an esteemed dignitary; she was reminded of Victor Lake’s apartments in the Vinthra Military complex.
Lt. Commander Pesca had been installed in the adjoining chamber reserved for the aide or valet, a promotion to another position in which he might prove his incompetence. He popped out of his own room as soon as he heard her come in.
“Captain, I’ve discovered the most amazing thing!” he declared, running over with enthusiasm. “I think that it might be some kind of big conspiracy. When they were bringing me here, I saw real people in this station. Humans. You know, like us.” “Since when did you pass the entrance requirements?” she asked peevishly, in no mood for foolishness. She was trying to make some determination about procuring food. “I became aware of that odd fact some hours ago. For that matter, I already know that there is no conspiracy, and that there are in fact more humans here than Starwolves.”
“Well, what are they doing here?” he protested. “This is Starwolf space!”
“This is the Republic.”
“But there is no Republic.”
“Starwolf space is the Republic. Don’t they teach you children anything in the Sector Academy these days?” She opened a cabinet and found a bar, but nothing she wanted. “Do they feed us around this place?”
“You can call for catering on the wall com,” Pesca suggested helpfully. “They put up a menu on the monitor. The number is fifteen thirty-seven.”
Trust Wally to know all the important things. She went over to the unit on the wall by the main door and put in the number he had given her, and she was rewarded with a menu. “How goes the linguistics?”
“Frustrating,” he answered dismally. “They never will speak their own language.”
“You might as well give that a rest for now,” Tarrel said. “Terran is the official language of the Republic, or at least the station. I’ve spent my morning speaking Diplomacy. It’s just like Terran, except that you sound like an educated ass and you get a headache from trying to figure out what you’ve said, much less what the other guy said. But that’s easy compared to the language used by scientists. Just one question, Mister Linguist. What do you suppose a chicken would be?”
“A small bird from old Terra, as I recall. Khoran hens replaced them in popularity long ago.”
Tarrel looked amused. “We really are in the Republic, aren’t we?”
“What do chickens have to do with all of this?” Pesca asked.
“They seem to be on the menu.”
When Kelvessan put their minds to it, they were enormously clever little problem-solvers. They had a computer simulation ready for demonstration only twelve hours later. Dalvaen, the director of the research team, explained that putting together the theories was a great deal easier than finding ways to implement those theories. At least this group was neither as large nor as formal as their first meeting had been. Fleet Commander Asandi collected Captain Tarrel and escorted her to the demonstration. Other members of the military staff and the Commanders of the carriers presently in port were also there, but that was about it other than the researchers.
“Do you trust these simulations completely?” Tarrel asked. “You really don’t have a lot of information on which to base your models.”
“It might seem that way,” Dalvaen agreed. “However, we can infer how that shield works very exactly from the information we do have, because there is only one practical model which fits those clues. I would say that our model is accurate to within ninety-five percent, probably better. What we lack is the time to learn how to re-create the technology which projects that shield, or find the additional information we need to learn how to defeat it.”
“Then, in military terms, we would say that the probability that your model is accurate is so high that it would not justify the time needed to obtain additional information and proofs.”
Dalvaen finally seemed to understand her approach to looking at the problem. “Let me put it this way. The information that we have was obtained the hard way by yourself and by the Kerridayen. We will now exploit that information into advantages that will allow us to obtain more information about our enemy, which in turn will give us new advantages. Taking this in a series of steps, we will eventually be stronger than it is.”
Tarrel nodded. “In other words, there are no quick answers: We have to do this the hard way from start to finish. Please, proceed.”
Dalvaen indicated the main monitor. “For the purposes of this simulation, we have encapsulated the projection of a Union battleship, expanded in size to a length of nearly twelve kilometers, within a shield exactly like the one we believe the Dreadnought possesses. That ship is moving through the simulated star system you see on this monitor, presently unseen either visually or by scan. Our point of view on this monitor is that of the main screens aboard a carrier fitted with enhanced scanners. At the moment, we are trying to locate our Dreadnought with ordinary scanners. As you can see, we have no contacts.”
He turned to a second monitor. “Let me show you something here. This is what we believe happens when light or scanner beams contact the Dreadnought’s shield. The beam is not immediately neutralized at the point of contact, but captured within a layer of the shield where it travels like waves on the surface of calm water. The shield captures the beam and holds it until it can be absorbed.”
“But the Dreadnought can use its own scanners effectively through this shield,” Daerran pointed out.
“How can it?” Tarrel asked.
“There seems to be only one way to make that work. The Dreadnought’s shield already pulses at a certain frequency. All shields do, since it is that wavefront pattern that deflects the bolts of cannon fire. At a high enough
