Quanshuk's brief battle high dissolved into shock. With an almost insolent dispassion, shipsmind informed him that the encounter had lasted thirty-four seconds, and presented him with a fleet losses report. Four battleships and eleven cruisers… Enemy losses, one battleship and three cruisers… The admiral stared blankly.
Then the next wave hit, as unexpectedly as the first. Alarm horns squalled. The Meadowlands was jarred by another salvo of torpedos. Again the lights flickered, and for a moment the bridge was lit only by the monitors, before the lights came back at half strength. This new wave accelerated impossibly, in randomized zigzags despite their momentum, while their bright war beams reached far forward. The admiral and bridge crew could do little but watch the monitors. Again the attackers' fire coordination was excellent. And far ahead, what seemed to be the first wave had emerged again from warpspace, sweeping through the still-mustering Fourth Battle Wing.
The second wave disappeared more quickly than the first. Then the reemerged first wave winked out again. Quanshuk sat dazed but upright, waiting for shipsmind to report losses. Even as the numbers appeared, shipsvoice reported new incursions, elsewhere within the armada. The admiral hardly reacted, leaving the battle to shipsmind.
Ophelia Kennah guided Charley Gordon off the bridge and into the corridor, Alvaro Soong following. With F-space and the Wyzhnyny left behind, shipsmind, along with Soong's operations officer and the ship's captain, could tend shop very nicely. Soong would stay with Charley until the savant had settled down. Then, if Charley was in shape to channel, he'd report to War House.
In the corridor, Charley couldn't restrain himself. "Oh, Admiral," he said, "it was… marvelous! I am absolutely wired! Wired!" He paused just a second. "You do know the term, sir? It dates from the first drug era, before the Troubles, and means intensely exhilarated. I have never felt like this before!" He laughed. "Did you hear that, Admiral? Laughter from a bottle! I'm like Ebenezer Scrooge, after awakening on Christmas morning! Like a drunken man! Isn't that remarkable? Even though I was just instrumental in destroying the biological housings of thousands of souls, sending them back to central casting, so to speak. And feel no guilt! No guilt at all! Isn't that remarkable? Oh! I'm even repeating myself! I don't usually do that. Do I, dear Ophelia? I don't think I do.
"And, Admiral, do you know why I feel no guilt? Because it is part of the great dance. Part of the great learning. And because… We may have just saved the human species! The vectors are distinctly encouraging now!" His voice lowered conspiratorially. "They are. We have not won yet, but we have crossed a watershed, believe me."
Charley fell silent then, and it seemed to Soong he should reply, at least acknowledge Charley's words. "I believe you, Charley," he found himself saying. "You did marvelously well."
They were at Charley's door before the savant spoke again. He was no longer wired. "How many enemy ships did we destroy, Admiral?" he asked.
"I don't recall. A lot more than we lost." Soong opened the door for Kennah, who guided Charley into their suite.
"Admiral, I am suddenly very tired," Charley said. "I'm not sure I can channel just now."
"That's fine, Charley. Take a nap. As long as you'd like. War House knows in general how the fighting went. I'll have one of the point ships let them know that you were the battle master, and that you need to rest now. I'll debrief to them later."
"Thank you, sir." Charley almost slurred the words. "Ophelia, dear, I think two hours will do. Two hours."
"Fine, Charley. Two hours."
Charley's sensor lights dimmed out.
"He's asleep now, Admiral," she said quietly. "I'll call you. Or if there is a need, you call me."
She paused, tipping her head to one side, then added: "I would not worry, Admiral, about Charley's stamina. I have never seen him unable to continue channeling. It is after he finishes that he-sometimes sags. I believe he could have conducted the battle as long as necessary, but once he disconnects, he must rest."
Soong nodded. "Thank you, Kennah," he said, then left. She'd looked and sounded tired herself. I wonder, he thought, if she doesn't somehow lend energy to Charley when he needs it.
Afterward, Alvaro Soong himself felt emotionally drained, and lay down intending to nap. But found himself reviewing, instead, sorting material for his debrief. His Provos' losses had been heaviest during the brief moments of shield decay, before strange-space could be generated. All told he'd lost five battleships out of twenty-five, twelve cruisers out of seventy-five, nine corvettes out of fifty. And only eleven maces out of sixty, despite high-risk assignments; they were hard to hit, and those with layered shields, hard to kill. War House would make something of that.
He also had good figures on Wyzhnyny losses, give or take a very few. Fourteen battleships, forty-two ships seemingly equivalent to cruisers, and thirty-seven others he'd lumped in his mind as miscellaneous. Proportionately his own losses had been far heavier than the Wyzhnyny's. But by the time he reached rendezvous, in the fringe of the Dinebikeyah System, the new battle units waiting to join him would more than make up his losses. Much more.
The Wyzhnyny, by contrast, would get no replacements. Well, in a sense they would, because most of their warfleet hadn't actually been engaged in this fight. Call them on-site reserves; not potential future reinforcements like his own.
At any rate, his Provos, including Charley, had carried out their mission: they'd learned a lot about the Wyzhnyny and done "substantive damage." The flip side of that being, the Wyzhnyny had learned a lot about his Provos. He'd hardly catch them so unprepared again.
Tomorrow he and Charley would start work on how Charley might control a fleet several times as large as he'd managed today. With a sigh, Soong sat up. He really should nap on the battle experience, before debriefing to War House. Which meant stilling the thoughts that swirled in his consciousness. Buzzing sickbay, he arranged for a potent sleeping pill, then buzzed Ophelia Kennah. Let Charley sleep as long as he needed, he told her. A few extra hours shouldn't seriously dislocate War House.
Chapter 46
Wyzhnyny Addendum
Grand Admiral Quanshuk had gathered himself sufficiently to lead Rear Admiral Tualurog and Chief Scholar Qonits to his quarters. As always, his orderly had made the bed, cleared and washed the counter, put things away… Only his desk was as it had been, the orderly being forbidden to touch it.
The three high-ranking Wyzhnyny stepped inside. Quanshuk closed the door behind them, then went to his desk and triggered the recording system, before stepping to his small bar. "Admiral Tualurog, what is your pleasure?"
The rear admiral named it, a product unadorned with flavorings. A fighting man's taste. Quanshuk poured two of them, the second for himself, then looked at Qonits. "The usual?"
"If you please, Grand Admiral."
Quanshuk poured him a non-alcoholic beverage. "We have finally met resistance," he said, "and I did not much care for it. They stung us sorely. But we have learned from it." He drummed clawed fingertips on the bartop.
Tualurog grunted. "The humans are cowards, afraid to stand and fight."
"It served them well," Qonits said offhandedly. "In ancient times our ancestors used hit-and-run attacks. It enabled them to survive, and eventually prevail."