“You’re right,” I told her finally, “but that won’t help us if we’re already dead. My orders stand.”
Major Sarin turned back to the screen without a complaint. I eyed her. Sometimes, the quiet, effective people around you were easy to overlook. I thought I should pay more attention to Sarin if we ever got back to Earth. She was a fine officer, and probably deserved a command of her own if we made it home.
A few minutes later, our drones reached the array of missiles trailing us. They had to make direct hits at incredible velocities to knock them out. We were all tense. No one spoke as the two lines met on the board.
“Three hits,” Sarin said, “one-no, two more.”
I dared to take a breath as paths blinked and vanished from the board. At least the drones were working.
“Seven hits,” she said.
Was that a hint of excitement I heard in her voice? I glanced up and saw the birth of a smile there. Yes, she was feeling it. Gorski was grinning. Others were pressing in around us now. I saw Kwon, and wondered how he had gotten the word. After all these hours spent waiting, the fight was on.
“It’s working,” Gorski said.
I waved his words away. “Don’t jinx it.”
“Sorry.”
“Eleven hits now,” Major Sarin said. Some of the tension had gone out of her voice.
Lines died away on the boards. We still had five missiles coming, however, not to mention the four big ones the cruiser had added to the party.
The countdown reached fourteen, and halted. “Two misses confirmed,” Sarin said.
“What happened?” I asked.
Gorski shrugged. “Maybe they realized the others were getting hit and dodged. There was very little time to adjust at those speeds for either party. There was some luck involved.”
I grunted unhappily. I had to wonder if he’d just written our epitaph. I thought it would fit well on my own tombstone: There was some luck involved.
I turned to Kwon. “It’s time you made yourself useful,” I told him. “Take all our little automated turrets we set up against the Worms and affix them to our tail section. Set the brainboxes to ‘paranoid’ and maybe they will get a lucky hit when these missiles come in. They should be useful against the big bastards coming in from the cruiser, too.”
“Sir?” asked Gorski, “can I make a suggestion?”
“Do it.”
“Maybe we should put all the armament up front, and turn and face the incoming barrage. We’ve got a lot more armor up there, and we don’t want these missiles to knock out our engines.”
I thought about it. I didn’t like it, as it would slow us down and give up on the evasion idea. I watched as the enemy weapons clicked closer. Space combat seemed different to me now, it was slower and more deliberate. I missed the days of massing with a fleet of Nano ships on a surprised enemy. The pixels advanced again, and I came to a decision. “Here’s what we are going to do: we’ll keep running as long as we can. We’ll fire newly built drones as we run at the last two light missiles. You hear that? I want them launched the moment after we build them.”
“That will be tight, sir,” Gorski said.
“I know, Captain. Go babysit the factories. Get those drones out if you have to perform a cesarean on them.”
“Yes sir,” he said, getting up and heading for the exit.
“Kwon,” I said, turning to the hulking man. He frowned worriedly. I looked around, seeing his expression mirrored on a dozen faces. They had been celebrating when the first missiles were knocked out, but anyone who could count knew there were six more we hadn’t touched.
“We’ll turn around at the last minute,” I said. “That will give us maximum time to build counter measures, and we’ll still have a shot at the missiles that get through our drones.”
“Where do I put the turrets then?” Kwon asked.
“Forward. Cluster them around the nose of the cruiser. We’ll turn when the missiles get close enough to hit and whatever gets by we’ll have to ride out.”
After he had left, Major Sarin spoke up: “Those payloads are going to be a lot bigger than the mines we dumped on them. I’m not sure how many hits we can take.”
“I know,” I said, “but it’s the best we can do.”
I stared at the four big, red bastards that were bearing down on us from the cruiser. They were moving much slower than the smaller missiles had been. “We’ll use the drones on the lighter, faster missiles. These monsters we’ll have to take out with our laser turrets up front. Any analysis on this new weapon system? Why are they bigger and slower?”
“Nothing, Colonel,” Major Sarin said. “They are metallic, with more weight and less thrust. The only new data I have is they have jets on their nosecones, too.”
“Like a ship?”
“I guess.”
“How long do we have?” I asked.
Sarin hesitated, tapping. “Twenty-nine minutes,” she said. Then she turned her head toward the hatchway and gave an odd little squeak of alarm.
I’d never heard such a sound out of her. I followed her eyes and saw Marvin walking toward us. His four wiry legs churned. His camera panned and zoomed in on Sarin.
“What is that?” Sarin asked.
“That’s my dog, Marvin,” I said, “I built him, sort of…actually, he pretty much built himself.”
28
I spent some time asking Marvin what he thought of the tactical situation and what kind of presents the missiles were bringing us from the Macro cruiser. I thought maybe he’d seen this sort of thing before. He immediately started complaining.
“Visual input system is inadequate,” he said. He had elevated his single camera eye up to peek over the top of the table-like computer we’d set up. He panned back and forth, but I imagined the angle and the glare of the lights in the room made it impossible to see.
“Major Sarin will hook you up directly,” I said, waving her forward.
She picked up a cable that led to the screen’s external video feed and walked uncertainly closer to Marvin.
“He doesn’t bite,” I said.
She handed the cable to Marvin, fully-extending her arm so she didn’t have to get too close. Marvin tottered forward. He rested his camera on top of his brainbox and took the cable from her hand, connecting it to a silvery thread of nanites. The nanites adjusted themselves to feed the data and Marvin halted for a few moments, transfixed by the input.
“What did you give him access to?” I asked.
Major Sarin’s eyes widened. She tapped at her screen and canceled a connection point or two. I hoped it wasn’t too late. For all my talk of trusting Marvin, it was hard to believe in the good intentions of any machine yet. For all I knew, he was the Centaurs’ walking revenge.
“What are you doing Marvin?” I asked.
“Translating incomplete two-dimensional data into an estimated three-dimensional projection.”
“Marvin,” I said, hoping he was listening. “What do you think the cruiser fired at us?”
“Question imprecise.”
“What are the most likely payloads of the four largest incoming Macro missiles?” I asked, trying to be more precise.
“Macros,” Marvin said.
