The Universe — or Nothing by Meyer Moldeven (summer reads .txt) 📖

UIPS will be forced to retreat. Our tactics will, at times, include diversions, as we must keep both INOR governments and the UIPS off-balance. They must be kept guessing — not certain — where I will move next."

"How do you expect them to react to such provocation?"

"There is little likelihood the UIPS will gamble with the future of our solar civilization by retreating from Slingshot; they cannot risk the system-wide demoralization and desolation that would follow. I intend to play on their fears and on public pressures to attain my ends. That's where threats come in; we must use them regularly, but with cunning and consistency. UIPS perception of danger to Slingshot, compounded by the enormous distances from their military centers, will compel them to be reasonable. If our tactics are convincing the UIPS will have no alternatives. They will accede to my demands."

"What if they resist?"

Narval's pudgy fists resumed their cadenced pounding.

"Let them," he snarled, "I will be ready; I will go further and challenge them. They will be compelled to come to me, and I command the high ground. I will defeat them, and move on quickly to my ultimate objective."

"And what is that?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Yes, President Narval, but I must be certain." Drummer's face was pale. "My ears want to hear what my mind has been forced to conclude."

"Very well, Drummer, hear this. Planet Pluto is strategically situated at this time to be the single, most influential force in human affairs. I will use that influence to consolidate my military control over INOR. When I have that I will confront the UIPS and beat them down. I, Narval, will dominate the Solar System."

Narval's ultimate objective was clear and set.
Drummer knew better than to dissuade him.

Having confided in Drummer, Narval waxed garrulous.

"I have debts to pay," he said, "and I shall get much pleasure in making good on them. Many insults and humiliations need to be returned to former colleagues on Callisto. And there are others, in tank towns throughout the Outer Region and in the UIPS. They will feel my wrath."

"Is vengeance all there is to it?"

Narval caught himself.

"No, no, of course not," he said, hurriedly. "I shall govern. I shall be wise and magnanimous. Magnanimous, that is, to those who support me, and," clenching his fists again, "merciless to those who oppose me or seek to undermine my will."

"Considering Planet Pluto's distance from the centers of social and industrial activity," Drummer interjected, "and our planet's far-ranging orbit, this could be a difficult location from which to govern the Solar System."

"I've thought of that, Drummer. I shall move to Luna and rule from there. In stages, we can adjust to its gravity. Once Slingshot goes operational, this planet will revert to an outpost, for most of its orbit beyond the solar rim. It was never meant to be more. To me, Planet Pluto has always been just another stepping stone."

A broad grin rippled across Narval's features. Drummer, somber-faced, returned Narval's gaze and saw his eyes shrink into lumpy flesh.

"Drummer, my plans include a position of great power and prestige for you."

"Indeed?"

"A new elite and a new hierarchy will be created when I take control. I will want a council of advisors, commanders and administrators for internal affairs, constabulary and military forces, security, intelligence, and a vast bureaucracy to manage the affairs of government for an entire system of planets, satellites, and thousands of artificial colonies. Much will need to be done, and you will be in the forefront."

"You honor me."

"I expect faithful service, Drummer."

"I shall do my best."

"Good. Now, as to Brad Curtin."

Narval leaned back and entwined his fingers across his abdomen.

"I had him here a short time ago and questioned him under a psychic probe. He withstood the inquiry. The probe did not disclose any inconsistencies to my questions; therefore, I can only conclude he is what he claims to be. What is your opinion?"

"My talks with Brad and his companions led me to that conclusion."

"So be it then."

Narval's attention seemed to wander. He reached for a document on the desk, and he perused it as if his mind was elsewhere.

"Drummer," he said, raising his eyes, "I want you to give Brad a special assignment, and report to me periodically how it is progressing. Keep Brad's group together, but watch them, and report to me immediately of any suspicious activities. I've also ordered Scarf to keep an eye on Brad and his crew."

"Scarf? To what purpose?"

"I have plans for Brad, if he does well."

"What is the task?"

Narval locked eyes with Drummer.

"Tell Brad to prepare plans and evaluate our military capabilities to penetrate the protective shield around the Logistics Depot, to capture it and use it as hostage."

"Good God! Take the depot as hostage? For what purpose?"

"The reason you will give Brad is that INOR will hold it hostage for a greater share in decisions on the disposition of Slingshot-generated assets."

"That isn't the real reason, is it?"

"No. The objective is diversionary."

"And the real objective?"

"You will be told when it is time."

Chapter TWENTY-THREE

The Sentinels slouched in chairs, or sat on the floor, backs against the walls of the small workroom. Their faces reflected fatigue.

"About fleet capabilities for sustained combat," Brad said. "I need a 'how goes it' on the status of your evaluations. Give me a quick rundown and a documented report by the end of the day. Myra, you first."

Myra spoke from where she sat on a chair tilted against the wall.

"I had training facilities and systems, emergency medical support, and general administrative backup. What I saw was guys and gals floundering around, leaning on each other, and making excuses. The training programs are antiquated; many aren't even remotely tied in with the equipment installed on ships of the line. Equipment operators are learning by hit-or-miss, and they miss much too often. Can't blame them for low effectiveness because the procedures are hazardous to their health. If we don't improve the situation fast, the crews will deteriorate to where they won't be worth a damn when the going gets even a mite rough."

Myra paused, tipped her chair forward, crossed her arms, and gave Brad a hard look.

"I mean it, Brad. What's more, the medical backup for combat support is atrocious. If we incur casualties, the injured won't have much to depend on, and if the troops have no faith in their medics, their morale will drop, and I mean fast. There goes your combat capability. For example, medical supplies haven't been checked and updated for years, if they were ever checked at all. They don't know what they've got or where.

"The system needs a complete overhaul. I spot-checked the software and links on training, medical, and administrative systems, and found them to be full of gaps and obsolete links and citations. My report, Brad, is that these areas need one hell of a lot of work to get them up to even minimum standards."

Myra tipped her chair back until her head and shoulders touched the wall and she closed her eyes. Her exhaustion was unmistakable.

"Document your findings, Myra," Brad said. "I want specific recommendations to deal with each deficiency that you find, the name of the person accountable, and a list of the supplies, equipment and skills to clear the problem."

Turning to the others, he added, "That goes for everyone; there isn't much to work with, so be realistic. If you report a problem, tell me how to fix it. If the shortages can't be filled, we might have to take from one ship or facility to fix others. Clear?"

Silence.

"OK, you're next, Zolan. What's the story on communications?"

"The equipment is generally good. It all came from the Inner Region, and not very long ago. Part of what we have was taken in the raids on UIPS ships; the rest is original equipment installed here during the Slingshot build-up. Most of the space-to-space systems are fully operational; there are some weaknesses in space-to-surface links."

"That part can be handled."

Zolan paused to nod at Myra.

"There's a 'but', though, and here's where I tie in with Myra's findings on training. We've got a good supply of comm spares, but not enough skills to do the work. The comm folks can operate the equipment, no sweat there. The problem is that although much of the gear is self-repairing through built-in robotics, when the robies themselves need fixing, no one knows how. Chain reaction; it won't take long for subsystems to break down as the pressure of sustained ops builds. Barely enough maintenance robots on each ship and station to keep the equipment working. The number of out-of-commission robots is increasing steadily, and no one seems to know what to do about it. In time, this could easily lead to wide gaps in communications capabilities."

"Do you know what to do about it?" Brad asked.

"Yes."

"Lay it out in your report. That's one area where we can't afford any screw-ups. Adari, let's hear it on ship's navigation systems and surface nav-aids."

"Well, Brad," Adari grinned, "I had a nice summary all arranged in my mind, but I won't waste time by repeating what Zolan and Myra reported. Comm maintenance also applies to nav, as does training and data. The equipment is good, but only because it's fairly new and is robotically self-maintained. But nav robotics have no backups. Generally, when maintenance robies need fixing the work's done by human specialists or other specialized robies. They're not on board. Eventually, this fleet is going to be in a sad predicament: nav equipment will go down with no way to get 'em back on line."

"How are you on fixing nav robots, Adari," Brad smiled.

"I get by."

"Put that in your report, too." Brad turned to
Kumiko and nodded.

"Guns, power packs, tracking and fire-control systems in fair shape. Ordnance controllers and gunners are a breed apart, especially when they're taking care of their own, and even when working conditions are tight. They normally do most of their own maintenance. The guns are modern, and there's a good supply of ready-to-install chargers. Ship commanders exercise their gun crews frequently, and many have been on the raids, so they have ops experience that the UIPS Space Force lacks. As far as armaments go, this fleet will be a powerful adversary in any confrontation."

"Sounds encouraging," Brad said wryly. "When you prepare your report, just tell it like it is. A bit of good news would be welcome." Motioning to Hodak, he added with a tight grin, "Last, but not least, what's the situation on structures, facilities, energy sources, and general logistical support."

Hodak, leaning against the wall, rubbed his bald spot and frowned.

"I ain't happy at all," he said. "As I told you on the Dragon, maintenance training of ships' crews is sloppy, and standards are either just not there or obsolete. We're working on the ops and logistical support checklists but they're still far from compatible with facilities and installed systems. These guys operate by the seat-of-their-pants. What's more, ship's structural and power plant robies are down for maintenance half the time and spare parts are a mess. That also applies to surface shops and equipment.

"When ships are taken out of the line for repair, the process is too damn long, mostly because of the marginal and nonstandard support equipment. We got a real problem here, Brad. The sooner we get on it the better."

Brad leveled a finger at Hodak.

"I want you to include in your report a way to update direct support from surface shops. If we're going to do ourselves any good on this rim rock one thing we can't afford is a fleet that can't stand up to a confrontation with the Inner Region. I'm not about to be hauled back to that tin can Guardian Station to face escape charges. I don't think any of us want that."

Adari and Hodak nodded; the rest sat motionless.
All looked somber.

Brad stood. "That's all for now. I'm going to give an oral report to Narval as soon as I can arrange to see him. He needs to issue a heads up with a whip in his hands. Meanwhile, you all have jobs to do. Be where I can reach you."

##

Narval and Drummer turned away from the view tank in which they had observed Brad and heard his words and those of his cohorts.

"Well, what do you think?" Narval bit into a fingernail.

"They raise valid issues, President Narval. If we are to challenge the UIPS military we certainly can't do it with an inferior force. I think we should listen carefully to what Brad suggests, and then, considering your objectives, adopt those ideas that will assist you in attaining them."

"I will listen to Brad, Drummer," Narval said. "Then, I will tell him to report the details of his findings to you. I want you both to do what's necessary to bring our