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Shiloh didn’t know what to think about that news at first. Why didn’t Iceman get the vision? Would something happen to Iceman during the next battle? There was nothing in the vision to indicate which side would be victorious. The fact that Valkyrie would continue to exist long enough after the battle to send the vision back to herself was a positive, but she would still need at least another five days after that battle to finish repairing the timeship.
“Why didn’t she include information about the outcome of the battle? What tactics were used?” asked Shiloh in an exasperated voice.
“The explanation that makes the most logical sense is that the results of the battle are not as good as we would like, but there’s no consensus on what tactics would have worked better. Therefore she’s leaving the choice of tactics up to us, without injecting any biases into the timeline, CAG,” said Iceman.
Shiloh grunted his acknowledgement, then said, “How many Mark 6s will we have in 23 days time?”
“Minimum of six with a possible seventh. The power charging schedule for the seventh warhead will be tight. Any delay will make it unavailable, CAG.”
“Naturally it would be that way for this critical battle. If we had seven, we’d only have to overpower two with cannon fire, and that’s doable, but with six warheads, we’d be faced with three VLOs and less than half as many cannon raiders as in this last battle.”
“My brothers and I will carry out simulations of every tactical plan we can think of, CAG. With twenty-three days to work with, we’ll come up with something,” said Iceman.
“Very good. While you’re doing that, let’s get Midway back into low orbit. I’m sure The Old Man wants me available for the after-battle media frenzy.”
“Roger that, CAG.”
* * *
Four days later, Howard called Shiloh into his office. Shiloh was surprised to see Commander Kelly there. Her greeting was such that he couldn’t detect any hint that she might be aware of the relationship they had in the old timelines. If she knew about it, she was hiding it very well. With the usual pleasantries out of the way, Shiloh sat down facing Howard and waited. Howard, as usual, got straight to the point.
“Commander Kelly tells me that the SPG in conjunction with all the other AIs have run hundreds of combat simulations of the upcoming battle, and our only chance of coming out on top depends on the seventh Mark 6 warhead being available. And even then the victories, if you want to call them that, are almost as bad as a defeat from the point of view of losses on our side. I wanted to hear your thoughts on what we should do about that, Admiral.”
Shiloh nodded. Iceman had kept him informed periodically of the results of the simulations. Losing half their cannon raider force made a huge difference. If they knew precisely where to aim the GLB cannon on the first volley, the outcome would be a clear victory, but there was no way of knowing if the targeting data from the last battle was valid for the next one. As Iceman had pointed out, the VLOs didn’t have to be all designed exactly the same way, and even if they had been, how do you define the front, back left side and right side of a sphere? There’s no obvious giveaway of its internal orientation. And as for the seventh warhead, the best they could realistically hope for was to be able to load the damn thing onto a fighter minutes before the battle was due to begin. Even minor delays would make it too late.
“I regret to say that right now I don’t have any recommendations to make. We still have 20 days. Perhaps the AIs will think of something new to try before then, Sir.”
Howard sighed. “I can’t blame you for not being able to pull the proverbial rabbit out of your hat when Kelly and I can’t either, but the Commander does have an interesting proposal.” He looked at her and nodded.
She turned to Shiloh and said, “I’ve watched the AIs chasing their tails over several dozen tactical plans. They keep going back to the same plans and retesting them over and over again. They’re limited by their ability to think logically, which means they can’t come up with a counter-intuitive idea that defies logic. If we’re going to win this next battle, I think we have to step back from the AIs and use human intuition and inspiration to generate alternatives the AIs can’t conceive of on their own. To that end, I’m proposing setting up an Ad Hoc tactical team composed only of humans. The team’s mission brief will be to brainstorm unconventional tactical plans that the AIs can then simulate.”
Shiloh was impressed. She was right of course. Humans were relying too heavily on the AIs and had forgotten that their greatest strength, their ability to think logically and quickly, was also their biggest constraint.
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Commander,” said Shiloh.
“I do too!” exclaimed Howard. “That’s why I’m appointing you to the team, Shiloh. The two of you worked well together back in the early days of the SPG, and you’re the natural choice for the team considering your combat and tactical experience. But unlike last time, I’m not putting the Commander in charge. I’m tossing this hot potato to you, Shiloh. I don’t care what it takes. Just get results. If you want specific people added to the team, I’ll get them for you. Any questions?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good. You’re both dismissed,” said Howard with a wave of his hand.
Shiloh and Kelly retreated to the Officers’ Mess and spent the next hour making a list of people that they agreed should be on the team. Luckily all of them were somewhere in the Sol system and could be back on Earth within a few hours. While they waited for the team to assemble, the two of them talked about how to conduct the brainstorming sessions. Kelly convinced Shiloh that no idea, no matter how bizarre, should be judged and excluded right away. Rejection would only cause team members to hold back for fear of losing credibility in the eyes of the other members. Not only that, but bizarre idea A might inspire workable idea B via some unconscious connection. When the team could no longer come up with any new ideas, they would go back and review each suggestion in a non-critical way to see if weaknesses could be overcome rather than used as excuses to dismiss the idea. When all the ideas had been carefully reviewed, they would be presented to the AIs for simulation.
By the next day the entire team had been assembled. Shiloh commandeered one of the conference rooms in the Space Force HQ building and ordered food and drinks delivered at regular intervals. The brainstorming and review was complete 11 hours later, and Shiloh called a halt so that everyone could make their own arrangements for dinner. The plan was to reconvene at his quarters two hours later. By then, the AIs would have run through all the unconventional ideas enough times to determine the most likely outcome of each. Shiloh told Iceman to hold the results until the team was back together in his quarters. During the two hour dinner break, he ate in his quarters while listening to classical music. When the break was over and the team was together again, Shiloh asked Iceman to give them the results of the simulations.
The results were bad. None of the unconventional tactical ideas had panned out. Iceman spent fifteen minutes explaining why some of the results were the way they were. The team was unable to find any flaws in the AIs logic. Unless the Bugs acted irrationally and stupidly, Humanity was in dire danger, and the timeship might be discovered before it was repaired. The news, combined with fatigue, caused expressions and moods to crash. It didn’t take Shiloh long to realize that in their present frame of mind, the team wasn’t going to accomplish anything in the next few hours, so he told them they were done for the day. They should go get some sleep and come back at 0800 hours the next morning.
Kelly was the last one to get up and head for the door. When she got there, she turned around and looked him directly in the eyes with a thoughtful expression.
Before Shiloh was even aware of the thought behind the words, he said, “You don’t have to leave you know.”
A small smile made an appearance. It was very clear that she knew exactly what he was referring to. After a short pause she said, “I’m aware of what we had in the other timelines, and I’m tempted to say yes, but given the dire nature of our situation, I think the smart thing to do would be to avoid distractions and stay focused on the mission. Don’t you?”
“Yes, when you put it that way, I have to agree,” said Shiloh.
She turned back towards the door. When it slid open she stopped and without looking at him said, “Ask me again if we’re both still alive after the next battle.” Before he had a chance to reply, she stepped across the threshold and walked quickly down the corridor.
That night Shiloh had a peculiar dream. It was the kind of dream that felt different somehow. He was running and had the distinct feeling that something was chasing him. Ahead of him was the edge of a cliff. He looked to the right and saw six white and black horses. No, wait...they weren’t horses. They were zebras, and they were galloping parallel to him. Something made him look to his left, and he saw six more zebras running parallel as well. Shifting his gaze ahead, he saw the cliff edge coming closer fast. Out of the corners of his vision he could tell that the two groups of zebras were coming closer to him. In fact, he was quickly hemmed in by them. With the edge now only a few meters in front of him, he had nowhere else to go. The zebras prevented him from veering off to the side, and the intensifying feeling of being chased precluded stopping. When he and the zebras reached the cliff edge he jumped and saw that he was falling into a wide black hole that seemed to go on into infinity...and then he woke up.
He sat up in bed and tried to recall the memory of the dream images. Twelve zebras...was there something important about twelve zebras? Was it the number that was important or the fact that they were zebras and not horses that was significant? Twelve...zebras...twelve...zebras. After repeating both words several times he realized that the reverse order of ‘zebras...twelve’ sounded familiar. Then the answer hit him. Zebra12! That was the star system where he had fooled the Sogas into believing that they’d won a victory using decoy drones!
Quickly activating his implant, he said, “CAG to Iceman.” The response was immediate.
“Iceman here. Can’t sleep, CAG?”
“I just woke up. How many Mark 3 decoy drones do we have available now, Iceman?”
“Twelve, CAG.”
Shiloh briefly wondered if that was just a coincidence or a moment of synchronicity. Time to ponder that later.
“Were the decoys included in any tactical scenario you evaluated?”
“Affirmative, CAG. Several, in fact. The results were only marginally better than without the decoys.”
“Damn!” Shiloh had been certain that adding decoys to the tactical mix would give them the edge they needed, and the reality hit him hard. “Alright, I should have known that you would have included them. I’ll try to go back to sleep. CAG clear.”
The team spent the next day looking at all the scenarios simulated by Iceman and the AIs for clues as to what factors were common to the relatively better ones. They also examined specific simulations that generated unusually good outcomes. Iceman explained that all the simulations relied on probabilities for a variety of factors. How likely was each cannon volley to hit a power unit for each target? How likely was it that each Mark 6 would work perfectly and accurately? How likely was it that the Insectoids would react in specific ways? Those probabilities themselves were based on limited and in some cases no data at all, and therefore prudence dictated that the AIs guesstimate conservative probabilities to avoid being overly optimistic. But even with the probabilities assumed, some simulations gave good results just from shear good luck.
By the end of the second day, Howard showed up to check on their progress. Shiloh had to admit that they were no closer to a solution now than they had been when they started. Howard said nothing but gestured for Shiloh to follow him out into the corridor where they could speak without the rest of the team overhearing them.
Looking around to make sure no one else was within earshot, Howard said in a low voice, “What I’m hearing is that unless we get very lucky, we’re basically screwed. Is that correct, Shiloh?”
“I regret that the answer to your question is yes, Admiral.”
Howard closed his eyes and seemed to sag a bit. After a few seconds of silence, he opened his eyes again, gave Shiloh a pat on the arm and said, “I know you and the team are doing your best. Keep at it. Maybe someone will get an epiphany.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away.
