Pipra and Abby arrived about the time the Navy folks had served themselves from a coffee urn and plate of sandwiches that magically showed up. The two production people headed straight for the coffee.
“Would you mind if we brought the Colonials in on this? Consumer goods may, possibly, take it in the neck.”
“That will slow us down,” Sandy said. “What with you already up to speed.”
“Not really,” Abby said. “While y’all were talking, we were all kind of listening in.”
Sandy found herself over a barrel. She couldn’t argue against what they’d done, but, she did not like being put over this barrel. And, damn it, security mattered!
She scowled at Penny’s neck. “Mimzy, I ought to slap you in the brig and feed you on stale bread and water.”
“Actually,” Abby drawled, “it was Mata Hari who brought the others into the conversation. She is, after all, a spy by nature.”
“But of course,” Abby’s computer answered, actually sounding French for the first time since Sandy had met it. Her. Whatever.
The main screen in Sandy’s day quarters opened up, showing the conference table at Government House. In her own quarters, the main conference table reoriented itself to be end-to-end with the other table, turning the meeting into one big conference.
Sandy settled down at the head of the table with her Navy types at either elbow. Abby and Pipra took the chairs next to the screen, putting themselves between the Navy and the Colonials. Ada, the First Minister sat at the head of the other table surrounded by her own key staff. There were some very dour looks on their faces.
Ada started the meeting. “We know what you discovered from that captured alien cruiser. We have no basis to disagree with any of your conclusions. They concern defense, and they are yours to make. We understand the need to both deploy a quick reaction force near each jump and to defend the jump against any intruders. Our only concern is the cost and how much it will disrupt our budding economy. Economies when you toss in the birds.”
Ada paused to take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “I expect that we will also bear the burden of informing the birds that there may be some delay in delivering their rent payments.”
Now it was Sandy’s turn to nod. “We understand your concerns. You understand our concerns. Hopefully, we can figure out a way to maximize the benefit and minimize the down sides of our situation. However, we must adjust to the changing threat picture.”
“Before you two start arguing over the why and wherefore,” Abby put in, “please let me show you what we have in mind and how much it will cost.”
A holograph of a cylinder appeared, floating above the table. A second one floated over the Colonial conference table.
“All of Nelly’s kids have been working non-stop on this puppy, even my niece’s Dada got dragooned into this project,” Abby said. “This is a rough sketch, but we think we’ve got most of the basics here.”
The cylinder expanded to cover most of the table. It was easy to see twelve piers scattered in three groups of four. Two battlecruisers were moored to each pier. The station rotated along its long axis and spun slowly around its middle, letting everyone get a good look at it from every angle.”
“The bow, or the stern, depending on where we’re going, is the most interesting part,” Mata Hari said. The long cylinder compressed until only one end of the station was in view.
“We lengthened the station by about a kilometer,” the computer said. “This end will contain the armament, and be pointed at the jump at all times. However, it also contains the plasma reactors needed to generate the electricity that the three beam cannons and two hundred and forty 22-inch lasers will need. If we set the engines up on the other end, that plasma would have to be contained in long superconducting electro-magnetic conduits to get the plasma to the other end of the ship. We consider that too risky.”
Seven kilometers or better of super-heated plasma conduits didn’t sound like a good idea to Sandy either.
“Instead, using the miracle of Smart Metal, and the near a million tons of the stuff we can salvage from the three the beam ships for each fortress, we propose to create the necessary rocket engines at the end closest to the reactors. Once we have the station in place, we’ll create station-keeping jets and use the Smart Metal in the engines to provide a thin coating along the outside of the station. That coating will serve to seal any leaks as well as provide a secondary radiator to transfer heat from the lasers out into space. Please note, we also have major radiators forward, closer to the lasers, to also cool them.”
Sandy eyed the large ‘wings’ spreading out at the front of the station. “Won’t they be a hazard to navigation? They look awful close to the forward piers.”
“They won’t be when the radiators are withdrawn,” Mimzy said, and the ‘wings’ folded up to a quarter of their size.
“It would take a blind ship driver to hit them when they’re that small,” Amber observed.
“The beam cannons will be located in a triangle about a thousand meters from the center of the station,” Mata Hari continued. “That should give enough gravity for the workers supporting them. The two hundred and forty lasers are spaced evenly around the 4.7-kilometer circumference of the station in what we’re referring to as the gun deck.”
“That’s double the spacing the lasers have on a battlecruiser,” Mimzy said. “Battlecruisers also have a top and bottom gun deck, with six or four to each deck, fore and aft. In theory, we could add a second gun deck with another two hundred and forty lasers, as well as half the spacing and double the number again.”
“That’s almost a thousand lasers,” Sandy said, half in awe, half marveling at what kind of hell that would be when it fired.
“Problems with that large a battery are many,” Mata Hari said. “The heat, the number of reactors and the staffing requirements would make for some very interesting designs.”
“Also, that would delay completion of the stations,” Mimzy put in. “Right now, we’re producing two hundred and forty 22-inch lasers for the twelve battlecruisers the yards make each month. We can go to double shifts for a month and produce the four hundred and eighty you will need for two stations, one for Alpha, the other for Beta jump. To get the maximum near thousand laser batteries would take four months. Can we wait that long?”
“Can we add them later?” Ben Benson asked.
“But of course,” Mata Hari said, accent in full force, then she dropped it. “This end of the station will be made using Smart Metal salvaged from the beam ships. However, moving the lasers into place will be a delicate process. There is also the matter of gun crew support.”
“On our battlecruiser,” Amber said, “we have ten people at battle stations for each laser. Two hundred and forty guns means two thousand, four hundred gunners over and above the beam weapon crew and the reactor personnel.”
“Can I call for a reality check here?” Admiral Benson asked.
“What do you have in mind?” Sandy asked.
“I think we need to look at our personnel needs,” Benson said. “We’ve got about two hundred and fifty ships here in orbit, not counting the fleet Admiral Drago’s got in the cat’s sky. About a quarter of the fleet is laid up in reserve, but that still means we’ve got seventy thousand crew slots. Double that if the ship has its blue or gold crew downside for crew rest or farming. My yards and base force will add another fifty to a hundred thousand. That’s who we have to choose from, but at least we have a reserve force we can call on to man the reserve fleet or plus up the battle fleet if things get terminal.”
He paused to let that settle in. Then he waved at the holograph of the station.
“We’ll need ten thousand sailors just to crew twenty-four battlecruisers. By the time you add in crew for the blast cannons, the lasers and juice the reactors, you’ll be adding four or five thousand more. That will need about three thousand personnel to support them and maintain the station. Two repair ships will boost that by fifteen hundred. You’re looking at thirteen, fourteen thousand at each jump point. All of them two to three days away depending on your boost. We’ll need a seven or eight percent growth in manpower just to cover this new manpower requirement.”
“All this at a time when we’ll be cutting back on what we can offer the birds and reducing the mechanization of the Colonial economy that might free up more of us,” Ada put in, talking for the first time.”
“The problem is duly noted,” Sandy said, cutting off that line of discussion. “Pipra, how are we going to make these two monsters and what will we have to forgo to get them?”
“Abby?”
But the buck didn’t stop there. “Mata Hari?”
“We propose to construct the stations in orbit behind Canopus and Portsmouth Stations. About a million of the three million tons of structure for the fort will be salvaged Smart Metal from the three beam ships. Another 250,000 tons will be Smart Metal from battlecruisers that aren’t going to be built this month. That leaves us with a requirement for a million and three-quarter tons of structure. We intend to draw that from present production. It will be a blend of steel, aluminum, titanium, and carbon fiber composites.”
Mimzy took over the conversation. “That will lead to a ninety percent reduction in consumer goods for at least thirty days. All defense efforts will be absorbed for the month we’ll take to build these fortresses. Capital investment will be reduced by eighty percent as metal is directed to the station from fabrication of manufacturing fabs.”
“Ouch,” said Ada from dirtside. “For one month the consumer side gets nothing! We can’t live with that.”
“Actually,” Abby said, “you won’t notice any difference for a month. We got about a month’s worth of consumer goods in the pipeline. We’ll run out of stuff about the time the stations start their slow trudge out to the jump points. The ten percent you’re going to keep should give you three more days in the pipeline. We can start back up fast and move things through the delivery system as fast as we can. There may be a delay for some commodities, but not for more than a week or so.”
“You think so?” Ada said, dubiously.
“You can study the same project management reports I get,” Kris Longknife’s former maid replied.
“This will be close,” Sandy said.
“This will be close,” Pipra agreed. “Some folks will have to stay topside to work double shifts, so there won’t be a lot of taking vacations at dirtside farms, ranches, and stuff. Admiral, Kris Longknife had been trying to avoid crash production projects like these. They result in delayed maintenance for machines and burning human factors like morale, tempers, and good will. Are these forts worth the price we’ll pay to churn them out so fast? Can you face your workforce and tell them that their sacrifice is going to make us all safer?”
Sandy nodded. It was interesting how everything came down to the human factors. Where do we find enough human, or bird, fingers to push the buttons, and how much do we demand from the people who make all of this possible?
“Do you think we should go slower?” she asked Ben.
He shrugged. “We’ll need time to train up enough gunners and support people.”
Sandy turned to Pipra. “How long if we built the stations out of the defense side?”
“If we made both fortresses out of Smart Metal,” Abby answered for her boss, “assuming present production levels, we estimate six months to produce a million and a half tons of the stuff, plus the million tons from the beam ships. That would give you one fortress in six months, the next one at the end of a year. During that time, there would be no new battlecruisers.”
That produced a groan from Benson and the fleet commanders.
“We might be able to squeeze some extra Smart Metal into production, but we need feed stock from the asteroid mines,” Mata Hari answered, a bit defensively. “That is a full production line that can’t be pumped up overnight.”
Sandy ran a worried hand through her hair. Her scalp felt like it was in a vice. Here she was with her first major decision. Her industrial base was balanced on the edge of a very sharp knife. The Alwa system needed protection. At the same time, she could only demand so much of her human resources before they started to crumble from too much work and not enough time to recuperate. Did this warrant a maximum effort from her people. A maximum sacrifice from yards, production and the entire planet’s consumers?
Sandy thought on it for several very long minutes. Around her, the room was silent. At the other end of the screen, the Colonials were also quiet. She alone could make the call that would send them all down a path that could lead to a disaster. One possible disaster lay at the end of one path. Another disaster waited for them at the end of the other path.
Of course, if they got lucky, there could be no disaster at the end of either path.
How lucky do you feel?
When Sandy did speak, she chose her words slowly.
“The enemy has come up with a new twist. We can respond to it and let them know that it won’t work, or we can wait, let them push us some more, and see where that leads.”
Sandy paused to let those ideas roll around in civilian skulls. “It’s never good to let the enemy seize the initiative. We want them responding to us, not the other way around. They’ve got aggressive kids chomping at the bit to take our scalps. We just got a batch of theirs. That is one ship that will carry no tale of tweaking our tail back home.
“If they mess with us again, we want to add their scalps to our collection, not let a belligerent bunch of kids get bragging rights before their elders. We bled enough to cower those oldsters. I want those kids dead, dead, dead. I want two forts guarding our jump points with at least two squadrons on ready alert. And I want this done in a month.”
Sandy turned to Pipra. “Yes, I’ll visit the workforce of your two shifts and tell them what they’re doing will make Alwa System safe in years to come. That the work they’re doing will mean we face less threats both now and ten years from now.”
“I’ll change the work schedule,” Pipra said, “and I’ll set up a schedule for you to come visit our lunch rooms, ma’am.”
“Ada,” Sandy said. “Can you get the word out to the birds and Colonials that we’ve got a maximum defensive effort this month that will be tying up all means of production?”
The First Minister nodded. “Will it take more than a month?”
“Do you know anything big that ever came in on time and under budget?” one of her staff grumbled loud enough for all to hear.
“We will keep you appraised of how matters are progressing,” Sandy said. “Mimzy, can you provide the Colonial government with a full project plan and update it when you update it for me?”
“Aye, aye, Admiral. Who will be your project manager?”
“Ben?” Sandy asked.
“I figured this would land in my lap. Abby, Penny, I’m going to need just about all the time Nelly’s kids can give me.”
“Understood,” Abby and Penny said together.
“Then I think this meeting is over,” Sandy said, standing. In only a moment, her day quarters were empty. Only Amber stayed behind.
“Tough call,” the commander of Alwa’s battle fleet said.
“Are they all like this?” Sandy asked.
“The ones that ended up on Kris Longknife’s desk always were. Now it’s your desk they land on.”
“Are we overreacting to some brats that got their hands on daddy’s car and took it out for a spin? It could be just a random action on someone’s part,” Sandy said.
“Maybe this is, but you know, they aren’t going to be the only punks to insist on taking a swing at us. If it’s not this wolf pack, it will be another one. It’s better to knock them down when they come up than let a few get away and get the rest of the packs thinking they can try us.”
Sandy nodded. “Okay, the defense is needed. How will our troops and workers take to having us change everything? This is bound to be about as disruptive as it can get.”
Amber shrugged. “Hard to tell. One thing bothers me. We’ve never built any major structure in space. Even the reactors we ship from the moon to either Alwa or the yards are built on the moon and lifted from there. We’ll have to build two huge structures out of several kinds of material. Do we have space riggers?”
“I have no idea,” Sandy answered.
“You still going to the alien home world?”
“Not for a month, at least,” Sandy answered.
“The best laid plans,” Amber said.
“Yeah. What can you expect on Alwa station?”