make an excellent “poor man’s planetary defense satellite” if towed into position and made livable. Cale just shrugged. “Maybe, for later” was all he said.
They called a meeting with their three managers to discuss the possibilities. They supplied the managers with a complete list of the sixty-three vessels in the orbital scrap yard, and a summary of their survey. Not surprisingly, the managers decided to make their own survey, which took another two days, and differed considerably from Cale and Zant’s.
“You judge too much by appearances,” said the oldest of the three, who usually acted as spokesman for the group. He was a thin, gray-haired man whose name was Bhamaramputra, but who insisted they call him “Rama, like the planet.” “A number of these vessels could be made spaceworthy using parts from others.” He said flatly. “But you want armed vessels, warships, and that is quite different from simply getting them spaceworthy. Frames must be strengthened. Bulkheads reinforced. Battle comps and AI's must be installed, and life support systems armored and backed up. It is no small thing to make a warship.”
'They don't need to be real warships,' Zant protested. 'Mostly they'll be fighting unarmed freighters and a few minesweepers.'
'We have built minesweepers,' Rama replied. 'They are warships, and are designed like warships. They are lightly armed, it is true, but they have good shields and strong frames and hulls.'
'Well,' Cale put in, 'What do we do?'
'Forget ships,' Rama said. 'Assemble one large base ship, perhaps a Din-class, for each system. This ship does not fight; it serves as a base. Then use gunboats. Small vessels with much maneuverability and speed, but little armor. Mount a weapon on the centerline, so the pilot aims it by aiming the boat. Two or three such could easily overwhelm a minesweeper.'
Cale was disgusted. 'Where are we supposed to get boats?' he asked. 'I'm lucky we've got ships!'
Rama smiled gently. 'You already have many. This ship has sixteen.'
Zant got it first. 'The lifeboats! He's talking about the lifeboats!'
Cale thought about it. They'd used one of the lifeboats to survey the yard. As he remembered, it was not a particularly high-performance vessel. On the other hand, if you removed twenty stasis units, they might be quite a bit livelier. 'But this is the only liner,' he protested. 'On second thought,' he added, 'sixteen might be enough for two systems.'
Rama shook his head. 'You will need more. You must give the pilots shifts and rest times. That is the purpose of the base ship. And there will be losses. But it is no worry,' he added. 'All Alpha and Beta class ships carry lifeboats. Not so many as a liner, but a few.' He consulted his list of ships. 'I would estimate at least twenty-five boats available, and possibly thirty.'
'I don't know,' Cale said. 'What do you think, Zant?'
Zant had no doubts. 'I think Rama's a genius!' he replied. 'Lifeboats almost never get used; if they do, they're usually replaced. Strip out the lifeboat furniture to make it faster and more maneuverable, add a laser, and you've got an attack boat — a new attack boat. No worries about worn out parts failing, or stuff having been removed. We can round up dozens of various-sized lasers and quickfirers. And we can carry six or eight boats in a Din-class, maybe more.'
Cale was nodding, now, convinced. 'Do you think we can talk the pilots into it?'
Zant shrugged. 'If not, they're not the people we need!'
They used the lifeboat they'd already used to survey the yard. The Vishnu techs removed the twenty stasis units, as well as all the associated medical and other emergency equipment. They mounted a laser and fusactor from a corvette on the boat's centerline, and engraved a targeting grid on the viewport in front of the pilot.
Then Zant took the boat for a test drive. Of course, there was no shortage of derelicts for him to target, but he treated it like a rehearsal for combat. He spent over two hours looping far outside the orbit of Torlon, and then came driving back at max acceleration. As he approached the orbital yard, he began madly zigzagging, rolling, and looping, as though evading the fire of an enemy. Suddenly he dodged toward the hulk they had selected as his target, steadied for a moment, and then jerked away, looping far out while maneuvering madly. When he had completed his loop, he again boosted max toward the hulk, swinging past it at the last moment.
He came back enthusiastic. 'She's not really as fast as she looks,' he said. 'But she'll pull almost 3G's if she's got the room to build the accel. All that mass we took out also makes her maneuver a lot better. As far as the attack itself, targeting was a dead cinch. It took no attention at all. I used the rescue ranging radar to make sure of a hit first time, every time. It's no Strengl, but for our purposes, it'll do.'
That reminded Cale. 'By the way,' he said, 'there's a Strengl in the ground yard. But it's missing its inertial drive.'
' What!' Zant cried. 'You forgot about a strokin' Strengl? How could anyone forget something like that?' He rounded on Rama. 'How about it? Have we got an ID that'll work in a Strengl?'
Rama shrugged. 'It is possible. However, please remember that the ship has been stored outside in a planetary atmosphere for an unknown length of time. It may be unusable.' He looked up at Torlon. 'The night side is approaching. Examination of the ship will have to wait until tomorrow. In the meantime, I assume we are to continue with the lifeboat conversions?'
'Oh, yeah,' Zant shot back. 'They're the best chance we've got right now. That is, unless Cale 'remembers' a few dozen more Strengl 's!'
Cale grinned. 'Sorry, all out. But we might also check for workboats, gigs, barges, and other assorted small craft. You never know what you might find in a scrap yard!'
The final tally was twenty-eight lifeboats, three workboats, four Captain's gigs, and even a gaudy admiral's barge. Two of the workboats were badly worn, but the third was cannibalized to repair them. They were to be assigned to mine placement duties. The four captain's gigs were actually better suited to their purposes than the lifeboats, as they were smaller, with higher-performance inertial drives. Beneath its gaudy gingerbread, the admiral's barge also proved to have a high performance inertial drive, and stripping out the nonessentials only enhanced its agility.
There was an argument about the Strengl. Rama pronounced it salvageable, and was certain a suitable inertial drive could be found. However, finding it on the ground and moving it to orbit for repair would be two different things. Rama decided that once they could get a Din-class in a condition to safely land and take off, the Strengl could be loaded aboard. However, moving the ship from the yard to the port apron would be a major project in itself.
Cale thought it was more trouble than it would be worth when completed, but Zant was determined. He bribed several of the Vishnu techs to work overtime on one of the Din-class ships slated to be base ships. then he and three Vishnu techs used a lifeboat to go down to the ground yard and find and repair Nabel's old but serviceable tow tractor, and jack up the Strengl in readiness to move it.
Finally Rama pronounced the Din-class ready to try landing and taking off. By this time, everyone, including Cale, wanted Zant to succeed with the fighter. When they went down to retrieve it, Cale and Dee formed a guard escort, with military-style blasters. An even dozen Vishnu techs had volunteered to assist in the project.
The Din-class, with the faded name Minetoo painted on her scratched antirad coating responded well to power and control. One of the Vishnu techs landed her smoothly and gently. Ferrying ships to and from orbit was routine for these workers.
If anyone were watching, Cale thought, it must have looked like an invasion. The huge cargo doors dropped, creating ramps, and the volunteers swarmed down the ramps enthusiastically. Cale was a bit concerned about the local residents, but none showed themselves.
Slowly, slowly the tow tractor moved the unwieldy spaceship through the yard, volunteers clearing the pathway ahead. They were moving slower than a funeral procession, and it took over three hours to reach the port apron and Minetoo.
The Vishnu techs were experts at moving ships. As they approached Minetoo, an 'I' beam Cale didn't even know existed on a Din-class extended itself, and a very heavy winch crawled out along it. When they reached the foot of the ramp, a hook dropped from the winch and one of the Vishnu techs climbed the outside of the Strengl and connected the hook to a concealed loop on the fighter.
The winch hummed, and the Strengl lifted seemingly effortlessly. A cable was hooked to a landing jack, and all the techs climbed into the Din-class's capacious hold and started pulling the fighter in, while Cale stood openmouthed. He couldn't believe that mere human muscle was moving such a large burden. Finally, the Strengl
