Then Blackstone was blinking at new images on the map-module, a flock of images. “What am I seeing?” he shouted.
The targeting officer swiveled around. The bridge’s red glow made his sharp features seem devilish. “Sir, those are missiles.”
“What’s propelling them?” Blackstone asked. “Where’s their exhaust?”
“High velocity moves them, sir. They must have been fired… weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t anyone spot it until now?” Blackstone asked.
“The Bangladesh,” General Fromm said.
Blackstone glared at Fromm. How could the stout Earth General sound so calm? The man’s fleshy features were smooth. His voice was unruffled. Blackstone envied and hated Fromm.
“The Bangladesh,” Fromm repeated. “The Highborn must have fired the missiles from the Sun, or had them gain velocity there. That’s what we did with the Bangladesh. It appears they’ve stolen our method and turned it against us.”
“The missiles are headed for the PC-Fields,” the targeting officer said.
Blackstone slammed an open hand against the map-module as a cold wave of logic quelled his raging heart. He saw the Highborn plan, or this part of it, at least. They would blast a hole through the prismatic-crystal field and only then fire their hated heavy lasers. But he had a reaction team, a squadron of battlewagons. If they could move in time—
“Communications, get me the Fidel Castro. And hurry!” Blackstone added, his voice having the power of a lash.
The Thutmosis III had passed Mars by ten million kilometers. That no enemy missiles burned at high gravities after them showed the Praetor and his crew that the premen had failed to spot the giant stealth-ship. A sense of calm filled the vessel. The great danger was over. Now every resource and effort was bent on one task, using the teleoptic scopes to locate everything behind Mars and behind the prismatic-crystal fields. There were obvious gaps in their knowledge, the areas hidden by Mars for one. What they already knew was vital.
The Praetor watched the enemy through his VR-goggles. Excitement caused him to rise from his chair. SU battleships and… missile-ships engaged their engines.
“Are their ships using full burn?” the Praetor asked.
Computers analyzed the intensity of the various ship exhausts and they analyzed the brightness of the expelled propellants.
“They’re using emergency speeds,” a Highborn answered. “They must have spotted our incoming missiles. The computer gives it an eighty-seven percent probability that they’re sending those ships around their own PC-Fields so they can try to laser our missiles.”
The Praetor gave a sharp, sardonic bark. That was the danger of creating a prismatic-crystal field too soon in a battle. It stopped the enemy from hitting your ships, but it also stopped you from firing lasers at the enemy.
“Ready the lightguide system,” the Praetor ordered. “Then relay our information to the Grand Admiral.”
The Grand Admiral had long ago shot probes in a lateral direction. Otherwise, Social Unity’s PC-Fields would have blocked a lightguide message beam as effectively as it would a battle-beam. Now, the Thutmosis III’s lightguide laser would hit the communication probe, which would relay the message to the Julius Caesar.
The Praetor sat down, although he kept his spine stiff and his pose that of a conqueror. The premen moved predictably. They were such simple creatures, really. How they could ever hope to win against their genetic superiors was beyond him. It was like a child groping to fight an adult. They so yearned to ape Highborn combat efficiency. Inevitably, utter failure was the result.
The Praetor let out his breath as the message was beamed to the Julius Caesar’s probe. If the premen had good equipment, they might spot the lightguide beam, but fail to crack its contents. That meant the premen could theoretically spot the Thutmosis III. It was unlikely, however, as the lightguide beam had been sent in a short burst. If the pathetic premen hadn’t spotted them yet, it was unlikely they would when they had so many other things to worry about.
The Praetor was correct concerning the SU Battlefleet. Every ship, every piece of detection equipment was aimed toward the Doom Stars and the stellar voids in that general direction. It was a massive volume of space. That the Thutmosis III’s stealth-missiles and drones had only been spotted now was not incredible or surprising. A cold dark object fashioned to give almost no radar signature was a maddeningly difficult thing to find. Radar and teleoptic technicians were trained to search for any telltale clue, but until very near, the stealth-missiles simply hadn’t given those clues.
Almost everyone in the SU Battlefleet concentrated on the Doom Stars and on the fast-approaching missiles and drones. But the radar and teleoptic technicians on the Phobos moon scanned in the opposite direction. Phobos was presently on the other side of Mars as the Battlefleet and thus couldn’t track the Doom Stars. The commander of Phobos didn’t expect to find anything. The commander merely wanted his crews busy because busy people had less time to think themselves into useless nervousness.
One radar specialist, a Corporal Bess O’Connor, noticed a blip on her screen, a flash and then nothing. She ran a diagnostic on it and keyed for a computer suggestion. The computer flashed a single message: lightguide beam.
Even though a lightguide beam out there seemed impossible, Corporal Bess O’Connor logged the blip at the computer’s suggestion and passed it along the chain of command. Others in teleoptics received it and that caused a flurry of excitement. Teleoptics backtracked and used percentage probability analyzers. As they did so, they caught a flash of the second lightguide beam sent from the Thutmosis III.
That created an emergency and triggered several command decisions. First, even though the black-ops enemy vessel moved at extreme speeds away from Mars, the Phobos commander ordered a missile launch. Several minutes later, huge hunter-seeker missiles lofted from Phobos and charged into the void after the last known location of the enemy. With them lofted several specialized missiles whose sole purpose was to find and fixate upon this craft and relay the information to the deadly killer missiles. The second command involved three cargo ships. Those three cargo ships engaged emergency thrusters, hurrying into position. Once there, they would begin spraying a fine mist of aerosol gels. That mist was meant to blind the stealth enemy from observing anything more of military importance around Mars.
Grand Admiral Cassius closed his eyes, quietly exuding in his brilliance. He loved chess. He loved any competitive game but especially enjoyed those that involved long-term strategy and careful moves. The moves that now brought him this joy had been planned nearly a year ago.
He had received the Praetor’s lightguide messages, which had given them the precise locations of everything they on the Doom Stars couldn’t see because of the prismatic-crystal fields. Now the desperate premen used battleships to kill the Thutmosis III’s missiles. It was the obvious thing to do. The better strategy would have been to let the missiles hit the PC-Fields as the enemy fleet raced to get behind Mars. Nevertheless, Cassius had given the present action a seventy percent probability. Running for cover behind Mars would have meant leaving the moons to heavy laser attacks. It was only reasonable that the premen would have stocked the moons with weaponry, hoping to use the moons as heavy platforms. What it truly did was leave the moons hostage to the Doom Stars and force the enemy commander to shield them. No prismatic-crystal field guarded Deimos yet. Cassius was certain it was in order to try to fool him into thinking Deimos was harmless. Unfortunately for the premen, he wasn’t fooled in the slightest.