"It would seem, Colonel, that you're onto something," she said. "And that, people, leaves us with a little problem."
Silence answered her, and she turned back to Onslow.
"You say we're closing the differential on them, Captain. How long before we can bring them into MDM range?"
"Normally, we'd have the range in about-" he glanced at his memo comp "-thirty-two hours, but their gradient's a bitch. Their translation curve is flattening, but so is ours. We've never seen a Kanga multi-dee run at this output, so I can't predict when their gradient will max out. It looks like we still have the edge, but we're into emergency over-boost now."
He did not add that no one ever used emergency over-boost, even on acceptance trials, and certainly not with drives in need of overhaul. Such demands on the multi-dee generators tremendously multiplied the chance of setting up a disastrous harmonic between them and the normal-space drive which actually moved the ship.
"Assuming we stay coherent," he went on, "I'd guesstimate that we should be able to range on them dimensionally in about two hundred hours."
"And at that time we'll be where, dimensionally speaking?"
"Well up into the eta band, Ma'am. And-" he frowned "-as far as I know, no one's ever used MDMs above the delta band. Gunnery isn't sure what effect that will have on the weapons."
"It looks like we're going to find out." Santander forced herself to speak calmly. "If Colonel Leonovna is right-and I think she is-they're headed for a Takeshita Translation. I know no one's ever tested the theory, but we have to assume that's what they're doing. If so, we know where they're headed. The question is when. Comments?"
"I'm no dimensional physicist, Ma'am," Colonel Leonovna said after a moment, "but as I understand it, that's a function of too many variables for us to predict. The mass of the vessel, the gradient curve and subjective velocity during translation, the deformation of the multi-dee ..." She raised her hands, palms up. "All we can say is that if Takeshita's First Hypothesis is right, they'll flip backward in time when they hit the wall and go on translating backward until they hit Sol's Frankel Limit."
"You're overlooking a few points, Milla," Miyagi said. "Like his Second Hypothesis, whether or not time is mutable, or whether or not anyone can survive a Takeshita Translation in the first place." His tone was argumentative, but he was punching keys on his console as he spoke.
"True," Commodore Santander said, "but we have to assume they can do it unless we stop them. We can't afford to be wrong-not about this one."
"Agreed, Ma'am." Miyagi nodded. "And Colonel Leonovna's pretty much right about the problems, but we can make a few approximations. We know the mass of an Ogre, and they'll have to balance their multi-dee deformation to match the mass-power curve of the Trollheims' multi-dees and n-drives... ." He tapped keys quickly, and the others sat silent to let him work undisturbed. It took several minutes, but he finally looked up with a grim expression.
"Commodore, it's approximate as hell, but it looks like they'll hit the Frankel Limit something on the order of 40,000 years in the past. Could be closer to 90,000 if they lose the Trollheims."
"They won't." Colonel Leonovna shook her head. "Kangas are sure-thing players," she said softly. "They'll want to be sure Homo sapiens is around."
"Of course," Commodore Santander murmured. She sat wrapped in her thoughts for a few moments, then shook herself.
"Captain Onslow, pass the word to the other skippers, please. If Defender goes acoherent, whoever's left has to know this is for all the marbles. Breaking off the pursuit is not an option."
"Yes, Ma'am," Onslow said quietly.
"Very well. I think you can stand the crews down from action stations until we reach effective MDM range, but keep your scanner sections closed up in case they try a surprise launch down-gradient."
"Agreed, Ma'am."
"Nick-" she turned to Miyagi "-warm up the simulator. As soon as the Captain has everybody tucked in, we'll start working on tactics." She smiled without a trace of humor. "We're not exactly the War College, but we're all humanity has at the moment.
"Colonel." She met Leonovna's blue eyes levelly. "I hope we won't have anything for you to do, but if we do, it'll be one hell of a dogfight. Inform the squadron commanders on the other ships, then get with your planning officers. Work out the best balance you can between antishipping and antifighter ordnance loads. Then make sure every interceptor is one hundred percent. We can't afford any hangar queens."
"Understood, Ma'am."
"All right, people," Santander sighed, rising from her chair. "Carry on. And if you find yourself with any spare time-" she managed a wan smile "-spend it reminding God whose side He's on."
CHAPTER TWO
Battle Division Ninety-Two, Terran Navy, closed steadily on its foes. They had crossed the beta, gamma, delta, epsilon, and most of the zeta band without loss, but engineers hunched anxiously over their panels as the eta wall approached. The Kangas had already cracked that wall ... and lost two cruisers doing it. The implications were not lost on BatDiv Ninety-Two.
The commodore sat doing the only thing she could do-projecting a confidence she was far from feeling. She knew her officers knew she was pretending, but their part of the game required them to pretend they believed her anyway. The thought amused her, despite her tension, and she smiled.
"Coming up on the wall, Commodore," Miyagi said softly, and she nodded watching BatDiv Ninety-Two's meticulous formation on her plot. For a unit which had considered itself well behind the front lines, they were doing her proud.
"Update the next drone," she said.
"Aye, aye, Ma'am."
This far out dimensionally it would take weeks for a message drone to reach the nearest fleet base (assuming it made it at all), but at least someone might know what had become of BatDiv Ninety-Two if it never turned up again. And, she was forced to admit, even if they succeeded in stopping the Kangas, the odds were that none of them would ever see Terra again. Her crews were equally aware of it, she thought, and that only made her prouder of them.
"Eta wall in ninety seconds, Ma'am."
"Launch the drone," she ordered.
Commodore Santander gripped the arms of her command chair and set her teeth. Breaking the wall was always rough, but at this speed and gradient, each wall had been progressively worse, and this time promised to be-
The universe went mad. Defender's mighty bulk whipsawed impossibly, writhing in dreadful stress. Bright, searing motes spangled Santander's vision, and her heart spasmed sharply. The shock was lethal, impossible to endure ... and over so quickly the mind scarcely had time to note it.
She shook herself doggedly, sagging about her bones, and sensed the same reaction from her bridge crew. Then she focused on her plot once more, and a spasm worse than translation squeezed her heart.
"Ma'am," Miyagi said hoarsely, "Protector's-"
"I see it, Nick." She closed her eyes in grief. Three million tons of ship and nine thousand people-gone in an instant. And she'd thought Defender's drive was in worse shape than Protector's... .
"Launch from Bandit Three!" her tracking officer reported suddenly. "Multiple launch!"
"Target?" Santander demanded sharply.
"Tracking on Sentinel, Ma'am. Scan shows eight incoming."
Eight! That was a full load for a Trollheim's stern battery! Heavy fire, yet not heavy enough to be automatically decisive at this range-which sounded more like a Kanga's idea than a Troll's ... thank God.
"Deploy decoys," she ordered. "Stand by to interdict."
"Aye, aye, Ma'am."
Both remaining dreadnoughts vomited decoys. Each massed well under a hundred tons, with a drive of strictly limited life, but while they lasted their scan images exactly matched that of the ship which had launched them.