Conquerors' Legacy

16

Lieutenant Williams alters direction toward the expedition headquarters ship and enters by the starboard midship hatch. Commander Cavanagh and Colonel Pemberton continue toward me. I analyze their expressions again, calculate a probability of 0.93 that there is no urgency in opening communications with them. I therefore wait until they reach the base of the fueler and Commander Cavanagh speaks.

"Got a job for you, Max. Some heavy-duty data extrapolation and chemical-design manipulation. Think you can handle it?"

I note that there is the same moderate level of tension in his voice that I perceived earlier in his expression. "It sounds most interesting, Commander. I'll do my best."

They enter the lift cage. I activate the mechanism, bringing it to the hatch 22.82 seconds later. After 27.44 seconds more they are both again in the control room. Commander Cavanagh spends 1.04 seconds examining the labels on the cards, then chooses one and inserts it into the transfer slot. "Okay, here's the first batch of data. Take a look."

The reader requires 0.23 second to collect all the data and reassemble it into standard format. 0.18 second into the process I note via the fueler's external cameras that Lieutenant Williams has reemerged from the expedition ship and has turned in the fueler's direction. I also note that he is carrying a card in his hand.

The reader finishes its formatting, and I spend an additional 0.04 second sorting and collating the data into my preferred arrangement. I then spend 2.66 seconds examining it. Most interesting to me is the data on the ultrasonic blast profiles of 20.88 minutes earlier, which I now recognize were produced by Lieutenant Williams and his colleagues. My external microphones had detected only limited fragments of the waveforms, which had in turn left me unable to properly analyze and identify them or their source. With this new data in my possession I now have a significantly refined understanding of the microphones' design limitations. "Interesting. Have you the active sensor data as well?"

"Right here."

Commander Cavanagh inserts the second card. As promised, it is the active sensor data from the experiments, recording the complete dynamics of the ceramic wall's structural failure. "What level of extrapolation do you wish, Commander?"

"For now, just look the data over and get a feel for the process. Lieutenant Williams will be bringing you the main challenge."

"I understand."

I perform a brief preliminary examination, studying both the macroscopic and microscopic effects, creating an active first-approximation stress-point map, producing a similar map of molecular energy levels within both the ceramic and the induced crystallization planes, calculating energy-transfer profiles between each of the ultrasound frequencies and the crystallization planes, and extrapolating possible new resonance frequencies based on this analysis.

The examination process requires 3.67 minutes, during which time I also lower the lift cage for Lieutenant Williams and bring him up. "I've performed an initial examination, Commander. Are you ready to provide further data and instructions?"

Lieutenant Williams's expression changes. From the algorithms I calculate a probability of 0.68 that he is not entirely happy. I calculate an additional probability of 0.92 that this emotion relates to the project I am currently working on. "Or should that question be directed toward Lieutenant Williams?"

Lieutenant Williams's lip twitches in a gesture I interpret as mild distaste. "I'm still not sure I like this. But here goes."

He inserts his card into the transfer slot. "I trust Commander Cavanagh has explained that everything we're giving you is privileged military information and not to be divulged to anyone but properly designated Peacekeeper personnel."

"I was not so informed, but I am now." I spend 0.04 second examining the relevant sections of Commonwealth law and Peacekeeper regulations. "I also understand the requirements and limitations your order places on me."

He nods, his expression altering slightly. "I hope so. All right. What I'm giving you now is everything Peacekeeper Command's got on Zhirrzh warship-hull material. The bottom-line questions are, one, can we use the same technique on them that we did on the wall over there; and two, how does the technique have to be modified."

Commander Cavanagh takes a step behind Lieutenant Williams toward the doorway. "And, three, how do we go about using ultrasound against the hulls in space."

Lieutenant Williams again nods. "Right."

Commander Cavanagh takes two more steps, the last one bringing him to a position directly in front of the doorway. "While you're working on that, Max, why don't you put some of the results of your first analysis on the displays. I'm sure Lieutenant Williams would find them interesting."

"Of course."

I choose the microscopic sensor data, the stress-point analysis, and the energy-transfer map and bring them up on three of the control room's displays. Synchronizing their timings, I begin to play them. The reader finishes collecting the incoming data from the card, and I spend 0.03 second again arranging it in a more convenient form.

I begin my analysis, starting with a chemical/structural comparison routine. As I do so, Commander Cavanagh quietly exits the room.

I continue both the presentation and the analysis, studying the faces of the two Peacekeeper officers still in the control room. The algorithms indicate Lieutenant Williams to be intensely absorbed in the presentation, the size of his pupils and his slow blink rate allowing me to calculate a probability of 0.96 that he has both a high degree of interest and an equally high degree of understanding of the material. I similarly compute a probability of 0.78 that Colonel Pemberton has a high degree of interest; however, I also calculate a probability of 0.64 that she has little actual comprehension.

I also compute a probability of 0.93 that neither has noticed Commander Cavanagh has left the control room. Examining the correlation between his actions and his suggestion that I display this data, I estimate a probability of 0.80 that this result was deliberately intended.

The stress-point and energy analyses conclude, and I replace them with false-color schematics created from the meson microscope study of the ceramic. I also continue with my analysis of the Zhirrzh hull-ceramic data, as well as following Commander Cavanagh's movements on my internal monitors as he retraces his path back to the hatchway.

I estimate a probability of 0.80 that he intends to leave the fueler, but that conclusion is proved erroneous. He opens the emergency locker beside the hatchway and extracts a survival pack. I recompute, estimating a probability of 0.60 that he is hungry and seeking a ration bar.

This conclusion is also proved erroneous. From the survival pack he withdraws a flechette pistol.

He conceals the flechette pistol beneath his tunic and returns the survival pack to the locker. He looks at the entryway camera, his expression changing. I compare algorithms, compute a probability of 0.67 that he knows I have observed his actions and is wondering what conclusions I am drawing. But he does not speak to me; he merely retraces his path back to the control room.

He reenters the room 68.54 seconds after leaving it. I watch the other two officers' expressions as he enters the doorway behind them, compute a probability of 0.85 that his absence has gone unnoticed by both of them. "Interesting stuff, Max. Anything yet on the actual hull material?"

I spend 0.45 second examining the results of my chemical/structural comparison and begin a first-approximation extrapolation of the catalytic/ultrasound technique. "I've done a comparison of the two ceramics, Commander. They are chemically similar, though with differences in certain admixture ratios."

Lieutenant Williams waves his right hand, his expression one of impatience. "We know all that. What we need to know is whether or not the catalytic/ultrasound method can be adapted to work against it."

"I understand that, Lieutenant. My analysis of that question is as yet incomplete."

Lieutenant Williams mutters something under his breath. I replay the sound, enhancing the volume, and discover it to be a vulgarity in common usage on Kalevala twenty years previously. "How long is it going to take?"

Commander Cavanagh moves around behind him, passing him and continuing on to a point at Colonel Pemberton's side. "Take it easy, Lieutenant. Max is a parasentient computer, not God."

"Right." Lieutenant Williams steps to the transfer slot and withdraws the card. "Unfortunately, I don't have time to sit around watching his gears spin—I've got work to do. Where are the cards I gave you?"

Commander Cavanagh hands him the two cards that he brought aboard. "I'll stick around and let you know when he's got some answers."

"Fine." Lieutenant Williams turns to look at Colonel Pemberton, lifting his eyebrows in a questioning gesture. "You coming, Colonel?"

For 0.73 second Colonel Pemberton looks at Commander Cavanagh, her head tilted 5.97 degrees off vertical to the right. "No, go on ahead. I'll stay here."

"Okay. See you later." Lieutenant Williams turns and leaves the control room.

Commander Cavanagh walks around the room to the number-two jump seat and pulls it out. "There's no particular reason you have to stay, you know."

Colonel Pemberton's face alters to an expression indicating thoughtfulness and a certain degree of distrust. "I like your company. Besides, you might get lonely." She looks around, simultaneously waving her right hand in a gesture that encompasses the control room and, by inference, the entire fueler. "Here in this big ship all alone."

I finish my extrapolation of the catalytic/ultrasound technique against the Zhirrzh hull material. "I have a preliminary result, Commander. I compute a probability of 0.92 that Lieutenant Williams's technique can be used successfully against Zhirrzh warship-hull material. It will actually require only minor modification."

"Great." Commander Cavanagh takes a deep breath. The low-level tension that has been in his face changes, altering into an expression of firm resolve. "Print out everything you've got onto some cards. The raw data, your analyses and extrapolations—everything."

He pauses 1.05 seconds, during which time his lips tighten together and then relax. "And then get the fueler prepped to fly."

I begin printing out onto the cards as ordered and activate the fueler's electronics self-test. I also examine Colonel Pemberton's face, finding a slight hardening of her expression but no oven surprise. "You going somewhere?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Without saying good-bye?"

Commander Cavanagh's mouth tightens for 0.24 second. "You've already said you're not going to let me leave anytime soon. That you don't even know how I can prove I'm safe for the Peacekeepers to use."

"And you think going AWOL is going to help your case?"

I finish writing onto the cards and eject them into the holder. Commander Cavanagh glances over, then returns his attention to Colonel Pemberton. "I don't have time to waste playing psych games, Colonel. We've got a way here—maybe—to hit back at the Zhirrzh. I intend to give it a try."

Colonel Pemberton's eyes narrow. "What about Peacekeeper Command?"

"What about them? They'll get their copy of the results—that's who the cards are for. Go ahead, take them."

Moving slowly, Colonel Pemberton steps to the holder and takes the cards, her expression and body language indicating caution. "Then what is all this supposed to prove? You're not planning to take this fueler up against a Zhirrzh warship, are you?"

An edge of amusement enters Commander Cavanagh's expression. "Hardly. I'm not trying to prove anything, either. Max, how long before we're ready to lift?"

I examine the progress of the preflight checklist. "All critical components have been checked and cleared. It'll take three minutes to pressurize the Icefire pumps once you authorize it."

Commander Cavanagh nods. "Pressurize the pumps."

Colonel Pemberton shakes her head slowly. "This isn't the way, Commander. All it'll do is wreck your career and make you a fugitive."

"My career is hardly the important issue here. Max, let me know when the pumps are pressurized."

"Yes, Commander."

Colonel Pemberton half reaches a hand out toward Commander Cavanagh. "Commander—Pheylan—listen to me." Her voice is soft and quietly pleading. I analyze her expression and tonal pattern, compute a probability of 0.87 that her concern is genuine. "I understand how much you want to get out of here, and I sympathize with you. But whatever it is you've got planned, believe me, it isn't going to accomplish anything."

Commander Cavanagh smiles. With the underlying tightness of his expression, the smile carries no significant degree of humor. "We'll find out."

For 3.66 seconds neither of them speak. I study Colonel Pemberton's expression, noting several changes of emotion that culminate in shocked understanding. "You're taking the information to your sister on Dorcas. Aren't you?"

Commander Cavanagh nods. His expression indicates mild surprise at her comment. "Very good, Colonel—full marks for inspired guesswork. It's almost time—better get moving. And be careful with those cards on your way out."

Colonel Pemberton doesn't move, but her expression and voice take on a degree of scorn. "So that's all this is? You think your sister is entitled to this information before anyone else in the Commonwealth gets it?"

A faint flush of blood flows briefly into Commander Cavanagh's cheeks. From his expression I calculate a probability of 0.92 that the flush is due to anger and not embarrassment. "Let me tell you something, Colonel Pemberton. I checked the records before I left Edo to come here. There's been one attack—one—on the Zhirrzh blockade ships around Dorcas. And that was over ten days ago. There haven't even been any surveillance ships sent into the system since then to find out what's going on there. The fact of the matter is that Peacekeeper Command's written them off."

He points to the cards in Colonel Pemberton's hand. "Maybe there's a chance they can use this technique. It's worth the risk of one life to give them that chance."

Colonel Pemberton draws herself up to her full height, adding 1.98 centimeters to her normal posture. "And if I refuse to let you?"

Commander Cavanagh reaches beneath his tunic and takes hold of the hidden flechette pistol. Midway through his action Colonel Pemberton's expression changes, and I calculate a probability of 0.83 that she has suddenly perceived the protrusion of the weapon beneath the material. She makes no move to interfere, however, as he draws the flechette pistol from concealment. "You don't have a choice, Colonel."

Colonel Pemberton nods toward the flechette pistol. Her expression indicates a mixture of caution and scorn, but not fear. "And you expect me to believe you'd really use that on me?"

Commander Cavanagh smiles again. Unlike the previous smile, this one has a degree of actual humor associated with it. "Of course I would. I'm a desperate man."

"I see." There is still no fear in Colonel Pemberton's voice. "What you really mean is that now that I've been physically threatened, I'm off the legal hot seat for letting you go?"

"Something like that. Max, what about those pumps?"

"Approximately one minute remaining, Commander."

"Just enough time for Colonel Pemberton to get to the ground. Good-bye, Colonel."

Another series of emotions passes across Colonel Pemberton's face. After 1.44 seconds she turns and walks to the command-room doorway. There she pauses 0.61 second, then turns back to face Commander Cavanagh. "For what it's worth, Commander, I admire your family loyalty. As a matter of fact, if you weren't willing to risk your career for your sister, I might consider it evidence of Zhirrzh tampering. Off the record, good luck; on the record, I'll see you at your court-martial."

Commander Cavanagh throws her a salute. "I hope so, Colonel."

Colonel Pemberton again turns, this time leaving the room. Commander Cavanagh waits 3.02 seconds, then returns the flechette pistol to its hiding place beneath his tunic. "Watch her, Max. Make sure she leaves, and that she doesn't mess with anything on her way out."

I am already monitoring Colonel Pemberton's movements. "Yes, Commander."

Commander Cavanagh stands up from his jump seat, opens the side access slits and pulls out the restraint straps, then sits down again. "And once she's down, make sure she gets far enough back from the ship to be safe. As soon as she is, get us out of here."

Colonel Pemberton reaches the hatch and enters the lift cage. I start it down the side of the fueler. "I must agree with the colonel, Commander, that this is an unreasonable risk for you to take. A surveillance ship from Edo could transmit the data via laser to the Dorcas Peacekeepers."

Commander Cavanagh begins strapping himself to the jump seat for lift. "Except that I can't trust Edo to necessarily follow through." He pauses 0.92 second. "Besides, even if Williams's technique flames out, you've got a supply of fuel aboard that they probably desperately need. That alone would make the trip worthwhile."

Colonel Pemberton reaches the ground. Leaving the lift cage, she heads at a brisk jog away from the fueler. I begin bringing the lift cage back up. "I understand."

"Good." Commander Cavanagh completes the strapping-in procedure. "I'm ready. Where's Colonel Pemberton?"

Colonel Pemberton is still moving away. The lift cage is in position, and I rotate it securely into its storage compartment. "She is fifty-two meters from the base of the fueler, moving northeast. Established unprotected safety distance is sixty meters."

"Let her get at least seventy—I don't want to take any chance of hurting her. Or anyone else, for that matter."

I scan the area with my external cameras. There is no one else nearby. "I trust you also understand that there is a significant probability that Melinda Cavanagh will not have survived the Zhirrzh attack."

Commander Cavanagh's jaw muscles tighten noticeably. The algorithms indicate dread. "I know that, Max. But she and Aric got me out of this place. I have to try to help them."

I spend 0.02 second considering this comment, then spend another 0.04 second reviewing the previous conversation. At no time was Aric Cavanagh's name even mentioned. "Where does Aric fit into this?"

Commander Cavanagh smiles, some of his dread masked behind forced humor. "Oh, come on, Max. Where else do you think he and Dad have disappeared to?"

I spend an additional 0.05 second examining this statement. Commander Cavanagh's inference is obvious, but I can detect no logical pathway to such a conclusion. "Are you suggesting they're also on Dorcas?"

"With Melinda in danger there? Where else would they go?"

"I presume the question is rhetorical. The conclusion is nevertheless extravagant conjecture."

Commander Cavanagh shakes his head, his expression indicating complete certainty. "I know my family, Max. They got me out from under the Zhirrzh; now they've gone to get Melinda out. I'll bet you my pension they're there."

"I don't gamble, Commander." I spend 0.06 second reviewing Peacekeeper regulations. "Besides which, if you're convicted at a court-martial, you'll no longer have a pension."

Commander Cavanagh's expression puckers oddly. "And they say parasentients don't have a sense of humor. Is Pemberton clear yet?"

Colonel Pemberton is 82.74 meters from the fueler. "Yes."