“Yes, sir,” the three responded.
“Questions?”
“No, sir,” Van Krief responded after a moment. “I don’t know what to ask, sir.”
“Knowing that there are questions, but not what they are, is the beginning of wisdom, young lady,” Edmund said, aware that he was being pompous. “And in any case, we’re both in the same boat. I know that there are questions to be asked, but until I get the information I need to evaluate the situation, I don’t know what they are. And, yes, that bothers me as much as it does you. More.”
“Sir,” Destrang said. “We have standard intelligence briefings, just like everyone else. According to them, we have five dragon-carriers to the enemy’s five. And our dragons have trained in bombing techniques, whereas the enemy has not. I’m not sure that there is any question that we can take out the enemy fleet. But you seem concerned.” He paused, and frowned. “Is there any intelligence that you have that suggests the enemy may be more formidable than he appears?”
“I can’t answer that question, Ensign,” the general sighed. “But… do you think that you should depend upon the enemy’s stupidity? They have known about our capability for nearly a year and a half. They have built dragon-carriers in that time. I find it unlikely that they have not developed the capacity for bombing, whether there is intel or not. And if they have, I think that moving to intercept them when they are clearly courting battle is unwise. Does that answer the question?”
“Yes, sir,” Destrang nodded. “Can I ask what you would do, sir?”
Edmund frowned and shrugged. “I tend to keep my plans close to my vest, Ensign, but in this case, since it’s hypothetical… I would probably retreat the main fleet and break off a small task force. Use the mer and delphinos to keep the position of their main fleet fixed and move for sea-room. At some point, they are going to need fleet replenishment. The Briton Isles are still a basket caseÑthere are still elements holding out in the northern and western hillsÑso they are going to have to replenish at some point and get that replenishment from Ropasa. When they move to replenish, have the task force, task forces if there are enough detachable light units, attack the convoys. At some point, they are going to have to head back to base. When they have turned, moreover, it’s likely that they are on low rations. Unfed wyvern are dangerous wyvern. They cannot fly as far, are harder to handle in the air, and if it goes on long enough they start attacking the crew. It is when they turn for home that I’d pounce. Especially since I had light units at their back. It might even make sense to have a carrier out there, lying doggo and hopefully unnoticed by their orca scouts. It would be demoralizing in the extreme to be hit by a full dragon-strike just as they thought they were safe.”
“Indirect approach, sir,” Van Krief said, nodding. Then she looked at the captain quizzically.
“But, sir, we have the steam hammer,” she pointed out. “Why not crush them while we can?”
“No,” Herzer replied, “we think we have the steam hammer. There is a whole world of difference between the two, Ensign. Piling on when you think you’re grabbing a house cat and finding out you’ve got your hands on a house lion, is a recipe for hurt.”
Herzer was uncomfortably aware of the ensign sitting opposite him. The countryside outside the coach was boring in the extreme, a patchwork of plowed fields and uncleared timber with very occasional small towns. And the coach lurched as it moved down the Via Apallia. The pre-Fall road had been constructed and maintained by reenactors and in keeping with the continued social distaste for “real” roads was constructed in the Roman manner with paving stones. It was incredibly smooth compared to most of the burgeoning post-Fall road network. And the coach was well sprung, on good metal leaf springs, with the new vulcanized rubber tires. But it still rocked and occasionally lurched uncomfortably. Looking sideways in it was painful after a time. And the landscape across from him was a hell of a lot better than the landscape outside. The ensign had the tip of her tongue sticking out ever so slightly as she reread Slim’s autobiography of the Myanmar campaign. And she set off her undress blues quite fetchingly. Herzer had just started to fantasize about uses that the tongue could be put to when he realized he needed to think about something else and closed his eyes.
Unfortunately the future held too many uncertainties to think about clearly. With the New Destiny combat fleet at sea, the invasion fleet it was meant to protect could not be far behind. Paul Bowman, the leader of New Destiny, the man who had planned the coup against the Council of Key-holders that had started the civil war, considered himself to be the good guy. Since it was clear that the Freedom Alliance resistance to his plans was evil, any action taken by him was clearly on the side of the angels. Which was why he had announced that if the UFS could not see the light, it would be forced to by a reign of terror.
Celine Reinshafen, another of the council members who had sided with Paul, was not nearly so high-minded. When Duke Edmund had been living the life of a feudal baron and crafting swords and armor, she had been creating genetic monsters that pushed the envelope of the pre-Fall biological protocols. Since the start of the war, she had apparently gone into overdrive and they had already faced several of her monstrosities. The Changed humans that made up the backbone of the New Destiny hordes were but one example; brutal, strong and remarkably durable, they made fearsome soldiers in the assault. When they had first been faced by Blood Lords, they were named “orcs” on sight. Not so disciplined at holding a shield-wall, especially in the face of a flight of arrows from UFS longbowmen or assaulting Blood Lords, they were still a damned tough enemy.
But she was rumored to have created others. The ixchitl, pre-Fall, had not had poisonous nematocysts, so that was probably one of her little “tweaks.” And she had managed to infiltrate a few others into the UFS. One of them, a horrible giant humanoid beast that was inhumanly strong, quick and deadly, had woven a web of terror through Washan until it was run to ground and destroyed by a group of citizens. It had chosen to immolate itself when the manor it was using as a base was burned to the ground. They still weren’t clear on what it had been or how she had created it. And there had been others. Would be more.
He wondered what changes she might have made to the dragons on the New Destiny side. Firebreath came to mind. It had been impermissible under Council rules prior to the Fall but many of the rules had been struck down when the Council split. Not the prohibitions against explosives, which prevented them from using guns or internal combustion engines, or even high-pressure steam engines for that matter, nor the uniform protocols against self-replicating microorganisms or nannites. Both had been implemented with near unanimity by previous Councils and only a unanimous Council, impossible in these days, could waive them.
But firebreath she could do, with enough power. She might be able to draw it from the bodies of the dragons themselves; that was how the orcs were created. But the best material for firebreath would be jellied gasoline, and while it was producible by biological organisms, the Change was complicated and dangerous. Not to mention learning to use it.
He opened his eyes and looked into eyes of china blue, at which the ensign across from him flushed.
“Penny for your thoughts, Ensign,” Herzer said with a faint smile.
She flushed again and looked away for a moment, then looked back with a slight frown creasing her brow.