though.
The major drawback to the system is that, of course, anybody caught outside of his shell when the Anniversary hit 25 G's would be just so much strawberry jam. So the guiding and the fighting have to be done by the ship's tactical computer – which does most of it anyway, but it's nice to have a human overseer.
Another small problem is that if the ship gets damaged and the pressure drops, you'll explode like a dropped melon. If it's the internal pressure, you get crushed to death in a microsecond.
And it takes ten minutes, more or less, to get depressurized and another two or three to get untangled and dressed. So it's not exactly something you can hop out of and come up fighting.
The accelerating was over at 2038. A green light went on and I chinned the button to depressurize.
Marygay and I were getting dressed outside.
'How'd that happen?' I pointed to an angry purple welt that ran from the bottom of her right breast to her hipbone.
'That's the second time,' she said, mad. 'The first one was on my back – I think that shell doesn't fit right, gets creases.'
'Maybe you've lost weight.'
'Wise guy.' Our caloric intake had been rigorously monitored ever since we left Stargate the first time. You can't use a fighting suit unless it fits you like a second skin.
A wall speaker drowned out the rest of her comment. 'Attention all personnel. Attention. All army personnel echelon six and above and all navy personnel echelon four and above will report to the briefing room at 2130.'
It repeated the message twice. I went off to lie down for a few minutes while Marygay showed her bruise to the medic and the armorer. I didn't feel a bit jealous.
The Commodore began the briefing. 'There's not much to tell, and what there is is not good news.
'Six days ago, the Tauran vessel that is pursuing us released a drone missile. Its initial acceleration was on the order of 80 gravities.
'After blasting for approximately a day, its acceleration suddenly jumped to 148 gravities.' Collective gasp.
'Yesterday, it jumped to 203 gravities. I shouldn't need to remind anyone here that this is twice the accelerative capability of the enemy's drones in our last encounter.
'We launched a salvo of drones, four of them, intersecting what the computer predicted to be the four most probably future trajectories of the enemy drone. One of them paid off, while we were doing evasive maneuvers. We contacted and destroyed the Tauran weapon about ten million kilometers from here.'
That was practically next door. 'The only encouraging thing we learned from the encounter was from spectral analysis of the blast. It was no more powerful an explosion than ones we have observed in the past, so at least their progress in propulsion hasn't been matched by progress in explosives.
'This is the first manifestation of a very important effect that has heretofore been of interest only to theorists. Tell me, soldier.' He pointed at Negulesco. 'How long has it been since we first fought the Taurans, at Aleph?'
'That depends on your frame of reference, Commodore,' she answered dutifully. 'To me, it's been about eight months.'
'Exactly. You've lost about nine years, though, to time dilation, while we maneuvered between collapsar jumps. In an engineering sense, as we haven't done any important research and development aboard ship … that enemy vessel comes from our future!' He paused to let that sink in.
'As the war progresses, this can only become more and more pronounced. The Taurans don't have any cure for relativity, of course, so it will be to our benefit as often as to theirs.
'For the present, though, it is we who are operating with a handicap. As the Tauran pursuit vessel draws closer, this handicap will become more severe. They can simply outshoot us.
'We're going to have to do some fancy dodging. When we get within five hundred million kilometers of the enemy ship, everybody gets in his shell and we just have to trust the logistic computer. It will
The major drawback to the system is that, of course, anybody caught outside of his shell when the Anniversary hit 25 G's would be just so much strawberry jam. So the guiding and the fighting have to be done by the ship's tactical computer – which does most of it anyway, but it's nice to have a human overseer.
Another small problem is that if the ship gets damaged and the pressure drops, you'll explode like a dropped melon. If it's the internal pressure, you get crushed to death in a microsecond.
And it takes ten minutes, more or less, to get depressurized and another two or three to get untangled and dressed. So it's not exactly something you can hop out of and come up fighting.
The accelerating was over at 2038. A green light went on and I chinned the button to depressurize.
Marygay and I were getting dressed outside.
'How'd that happen?' I pointed to an angry purple welt that ran from the bottom of her right breast to her hipbone.
'That's the second time,' she said, mad. 'The first one was on my back – I think that shell doesn't fit right, gets creases.'
'Maybe you've lost weight.'
'Wise guy.' Our caloric intake had been rigorously monitored ever since we left Stargate the first time. You can't use a fighting suit unless it fits you like a second skin.
A wall speaker drowned out the rest of her comment. 'Attention all personnel. Attention. All army personnel echelon six and above and all navy personnel echelon four and above will report to the briefing room at 2130.'
It repeated the message twice. I went off to lie down for a few minutes while Marygay showed her bruise to the medic and the armorer. I didn't feel a bit jealous.
The Commodore began the briefing. 'There's not much to tell, and what there is is not good news.
'Six days ago, the Tauran vessel that is pursuing us released a drone missile. Its initial acceleration was on the order of 80 gravities.
'After blasting for approximately a day, its acceleration suddenly jumped to 148 gravities.' Collective gasp.
'Yesterday, it jumped to 203 gravities. I shouldn't need to remind anyone here that this is twice the accelerative capability of the enemy's drones in our last encounter.
'We launched a salvo of drones, four of them, intersecting what the computer predicted to be the four most probably future trajectories of the enemy drone. One of them paid off, while we were doing evasive maneuvers. We contacted and destroyed the Tauran weapon about ten million kilometers from here.'
That was practically next door. 'The only encouraging thing we learned from the encounter was from spectral analysis of the blast. It was no more powerful an explosion than ones we have observed in the past, so at least their progress in propulsion hasn't been matched by progress in explosives.
'This is the first manifestation of a very important effect that has heretofore been of interest only to theorists. Tell me, soldier.' He pointed at Negulesco. 'How long has it been since we first fought the Taurans, at Aleph?'
'That depends on your frame of reference, Commodore,' she answered dutifully. 'To me, it's been about eight months.'
'Exactly. You've lost about nine years, though, to time dilation, while we maneuvered between collapsar jumps. In an engineering sense, as we haven't done any important research and development aboard ship … that enemy vessel comes from our future!' He paused to let that sink in.
'As the war progresses, this can only become more and more pronounced. The Taurans don't have any cure for relativity, of course, so it will be to our benefit as often as to theirs.
'For the present, though, it is we who are operating with a handicap. As the Tauran pursuit vessel draws closer, this handicap will become more severe. They can simply outshoot us.
'We're going to have to do some fancy dodging. When we get within five hundred million kilometers of the enemy ship, everybody gets in his shell and we just have to trust the logistic computer. It will
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