Zach Hughes: Closed System

Corinne chose a modified V formation. Fromthat formation, firepower of all ships could beconcentrated. The Brenden came with stackedranks, the screen images showing a square madeup of little dots, the ships stacked line on lineabove each other, but with the ranks falling awayat staggered distances to make for differences in range for the opposing fleet.

Taratwo men manned the conventional weap­ons. Missiles would not be used. They were too expensive, and too easily countered with AMMs. Ina real action, the main purpose of using missileswas to divert the enemy's attention, to keep aportion of his computer capacity engaged, and tokeep men busy. In an exercise, missiles were simu­lated by computer, and the men at the AMM sta­tions would be engaged in sending out not actualkiller missiles but little electronic blips on a com­puter screen.

Two exercises were running simultaneously. Eachhalf of the fleet was doing its best to make enoughlaser and missile and projectile hits on the other half to keep from being tagged with the electronstream from a disrupter.

The results were overkill.

Pat had gone to stand near the young Dorch­lunter. Laser range and disrupter range were al­most equal, so that even as Pat saw the blinkings from the Brenden's fleet, the disrupter gunner wasspraying simulated death, taking out ship aftership in a display of swiftness and efficiency whichwas awesome. Only scattered laser hits registeredon Corinne's fleet, not enough to strain the screens.The swarm of simulated missiles were engaged bya swarm of simulated AMMs from Corinne's firecontrol; projectile weapons were never used, forthere was not time before multiple disrupter hitshad left the Brenden's fleet dead in space.

The action lasted less than five minutes. It took a quarter hour for the computers to gather and tabulate. Not one ship in either fleet had beenseriously damaged by conventional weapons. Every ship, in each fleet, had been killed, and killed againand again by the deadly, swift, emotionless gun­ners behind the disrupters.

The Brenden joined them on Corinne's flagship."Makes me almost feel sorry for the poor bas­tards," the Brenden gloated. "I'd say it'll take just about three engagements to have them yelling fornegotiations, and maybe two more after that forunconditional surrender."

"What if they change tactics?" Corinne asked.

The Brenden laughed. "Military thinking wasfrozen in place a thousand years ago."

"Still," Corinne said.

The big man mused. "All right, the day is young.Let's have another go at it. This time you changeto any tactic you care to use."

"I'm not very imaginative in that way," she said.She smiled, brightened. "And besides, you know me too well, so well you'd be able to figure outwhat I was going to do in advance. Let Pat direct the fleet."

"How about it, future brother-in-law?" the Bren­den asked.

Pat had been trying to think up some way oflessening the effectiveness of the disrupters. "Fine,"he said. "I have got a couple of ideas I want to tryout. The situation is that there have been at leasttwo engagements, in which all UP ships were de­stroyed without loss to...us." He started to say"you," amended it just in time.

"How much time do you need?" the Brendenasked.

"Give us an hour after we withdraw to maxi­mum detection distance," Pat said.

Pat gave his orders to the fleet communicationscontroller. Corinne's ships formed, started awayfrom Dorchlunt's sun.

"How good are your pilots?" Pat asked Corinne.

"Not as quick as you, but well trained. They canfollow orders," she said.

"Get me Brenden," Pat told the communicator,and when he heard the big, rowdy voice, "Brenden,I'm going to give orders to my boys on intershipchannel nine, in the open because we don't want to take the time to set up scramblers. Tell yourships to stay off that channel."

"Right," Brenden said.

"And no cheating," Corinne said, over Pat'sshoulder.

Brenden laughed. "If I cheated that would de­stroy the effectiveness of the exercise," he said.

Pat went to work, giving orders to the computer operator, and to the control officer. The Brenden'sfleet was just at detection distance, a distance whichcould be measured down to an accuracy of a fewfeet. He had already scouted that area of space, forBrenden had not moved from the site of the for­mer exercise, so it was perfectly safe to blink hisfleet.

It took a while to program all computers oneach individual ship, to set blink coordinates, to brief the pilots and crews on what Pat expected.

On the Brenden's flagship, men were tense, not knowing exactly what to expect. The dictator was pleased, because there was a feeling of real emer­gency in the air, just as there would have been hadthat fleet out there been UP. He figured he wasgetting a pretty smart brother-in-law, after all,and then suddenly alarms began to clang and theship's shield sizzled with multiple laser hits andthe computers began to sing out warnings of anincoming swarm of missiles from 360 degrees.

Brenden roared with pleasure. Pat had blinkedhis fleet, positioning his ships in a containingsphere, and Brenden's half of the fleet was beingattacked from all directions, the attacking ships so carefully positioned that misses did not strike afriendly ship but sizzled harmlessly through gaps in Pat's formation.

Brenden lost twenty ships before his cool, effi­cient gunners decimated Pat's fleet, leaving lessthan four hundred ships to blink, after an initialflurry of fire, back to safety. Brenden's fleet washit again, and again, by the waves of simulated missiles which were still registering on his com­puter screens, and then, with his losses at justunder one hundred ships, he sighed with relief andstarted to get on the communicator to congratu­late Pat. He didn't have a chance to speak.

They came back, the survivors, the flagship with Pat and Corinne aboard, in a wild melee of cork­screwing, hot-dog, individual attack, the pilots yell­ing in delight, experiencing a freedom of actionthey'd never known before, slamming into the midst of the Brenden's ships and taking a toll.

Gorben, at the disrupter aboard Brenden's flag­ship, also acting as coordinator for the fleet gun­ners, was giving calm, swift orders as he jerked hisweapon from target to target, taking out ship aftership, knowing that his own ship was disabled by enemy laser fire, but still alive and fighting, andthen there was quiet, all ships in the attackingfleet tagged by the disrupter beams, all their men dead.

"My God, boy," Brenden roared, when he was,once more, back aboard Corinne's flagship, "where'd you get such ideas? You took out almost two hun­dred of my ships. Some of them can be repaired,but the computer estimates that we lost over ahundred and fifty for good, along with about fif­teen hundred men."

"I just put myself in the position of a UP fleetcommander," Pat said, "and wondered what I'ddo if I'd lost a couple of fleets without doing anyreturn damage. They're not stupid, Brenden. They'lladapt."

"Well, thanks to you, we'll be more ready for surprises when the real thing starts," Corinne said.

"Pat," Brenden said, "I hereby appoint you, butonly temporarily, the official enemy. I want you tospend the time between now and day after tomor­row putting yourself in UP shoes. Think up somemore surprises for us."

"I'll do my best," Pat said.

"Well, let's gather up the scattered chicks andhead for home," Brenden said. "Oh, I want you onthe reviewing stand tomorrow with us, Pat." Pat nodded.

"You did well, darling," Corinne said, when theywere alone, back aboard the Skimmer on the padbehind the temple. He had told her that he didn'tthink it was a good idea for him to go to herapartment with her, that he wasn't sure his will­power would be strong enough a second time.