Oberheim (Voices): A Chronicle of War by Christopher Leadem (best english books to read for beginners TXT) 📕

Dubcek's dark features bored in on him in the familiar expression—-down-thrust head and knitted brows, eyes looking up through them like a boxer's. It was a hard and intimidating face, though with a gleam of sharp and illusionless intelligence. Only Brunner seemed to suspect a deeper humanity beneath the facade, and he was far from certain.

"It is real, but not something to be feared. Real men will die this day, as all men must. It is the only way to stop them." At that moment the voice of the executive officer broke in on them.

10) B x N

"Colonel, enemy light cruiser 'red' engaging destroyer group B."

Dubcek nodded in acknowledgment. Brunner quickly adjusted and replaced his ear-piece, and the sounds of actual combat came to him for the first time. He heard: ships signaling one another, attacking, being attacked, some voices calm, others tense and on the verge of panic—-explosions and bursts of pain within bridge compartments, engineers crying damage reports, men dying and signals going blank. The older man heard them too, studied the projection without haste, made several marks on the glass. Again the voice of the exec:

"Destroyer group B has succumbed—-no surviving ships."

Brunner watched his commander's face, half expecting to see no change. But a change did come, if only for an instant: a cloud of pain and uncertainty flashed across it. The dark countenance grew darker still, and he muttered beneath his breath. "If he wants to trade, we'll trade."

P x B

"Advance robot battery 7," he said out loud. "Knock him out of the sky." The order was passed on, and several seconds later the blip that had been the enemy cruiser also vanished from the globe.

A yeoman entered, bringing news of the Coalition reinforcements. Dubcek acknowledged the message, gave one of his own, then turned to his young lieutenant as if in answer to his unspoken question. His eyes, like those of a bird of prey, had returned to their normal luster.

"We don't have to beat him, just hold him off till help arrives. That is why we are aligned defensively, ready to counter-punch, and take advantage of his mistakes." Both turned back to the projection, and to their own thoughts.

11) 0-0-0

Masaryk began to speak again, but Dubcek waved him off. "Here," he pointed. "He's moved his battle station behind the carrier, and brought the corresponding battleship to corridor five, trying to strengthen his position for a frontal assault."

Brunner hesitated, not wishing to overstep his bounds. "Does that surprise you?"

Dubcek almost smiled.

"No. He imagines he's being clever, showing me something I haven't seen. But I've played this game a few times before." To his exec: "Battleship A to corridor four." Masaryk nodded, and passed the order on. The main battle computer silently acknowledged the move.

Again Dubcek turned to his lieutenant. "In a battle of this scale, and fought under the controlled conditions imposed by the grids, preparation is paramount. But once the real fighting begins, the book goes out the window. You may see me do things you question. If so, do not assume that you are wrong. Decisions made in the heat of it are based mostly on instinct, and instincts can go astray. Don't override me, but if you see anything unusual in either my strategy or his, I want your comments as soon as there is time."

Brunner was having trouble adjusting to this new intimacy, however strained. "Colonel. Won't the computer do that?"

"To hell with the computer. This is no damned field exercise. I'll ask for your comments, and those of my staff because I want input, not analysis. You'll be dead wrong most of the time." The expression changed slightly. "I need your inexperience, to remind me of things I might forget."

Dubcek moved back toward the place where his exec stood leaning over the main ship's console, one hand on the back of the First Technician's chair, the other pointing to the vision screen before her. Both looked up as their commander approached.

"Major," he said to the woman. "Would you excuse us for a moment?"
Wessenberg rose, gave a quick bow and left them.

"Well," he said to Masaryk, who had been his second many times in the past. "What do you think of the way he has positioned himself?"

"He's done very well. If he does as well the rest of the way, we could catch it hot."

"Yes, but he won't. Everything up to this point has been done by the book—-his computer could have done the same. Once the main engagement starts, he'll find himself hard pressed to sweep us away. We have reinforcements coming in six hours. He does not."

"Do you take that for granted?"

"What do you think?" The commander glared and Masaryk, who knew him well, adopted a more deferential tone.

"No, sir."

"I'm sorry, Rolf. As always, you see what troubles me. It makes no sense. Why do they divide their forces, and simultaneously attack the Dutch colonies at Larkspur? Half their fleet tied up hundreds of parsecs away, the rest barely more than what we have here. They may walk through the Dutch outposts—-they have the hardware—-but they will have no such easy time here."

"Could they have made an alliance we don't know about? the greater part of their force yet to arrive?"

"Yes, but with who? And how will they come in time? Our Coalition reconnaissance nets are thick and constantly monitored, yet we've heard of no unaccounted for ships anywhere in the vicinity. He has walked into this as if he knows no fear, and that troubles me. The Belgians might attempt such a thing, but never the Swiss."

"But doesn't the fact that they show no fear prove they are capable of anything? Ambition and inexperience often lead to such blunders."

"Yes. Let us hope that is it." He unconsciously turned toward Brunner with a wistful glance. "Still. . .this could be our last battle."

Masaryk looked up at him, stunned.

"Peace, my friend. I only meant that the times are changing, and we must prepare the young."

As Dubcek walked away, and gestured the technician back to her post, it suddenly occurred to Masaryk that in all their years together, he had never before called him friend.

Almost the instant Major Wessenberg sat down, she saw a movement so incredulous that at first she thought something must be wrong with the equipment. Not waiting for the exec:

"Colonel. He's brought his second cruiser straight at us."

Dubcek hurried back, stood on the other side of her, checking the screen. He turned back to Brunner, who said "Correct," in a voice suddenly full of optimism.

"By God, he is a fool. Light cruiser A, engage." Masaryk relayed the message, and the Czech/East German light weapons ship advanced.

B x B

"Now he's put his foot in it."

13) Q x B

"Enemy carrier to corridor one—-light cruiser knocked out. Carrier fighters and torpedo ships releasing."

"Of course; he's got no choice. All forward guns at the ready.
Battleship A to column four."

As the Exec relayed these orders and the gunnery shields were rolled back, along with the steel plates that covered the huge battle room 'window,' those in the large, arcing chamber were given their first direct view of the battle among the stars. The massive Bel-Swiss carrier, of German States construction, loomed long and gray at its distance, fighters and missile ships hovering below it, but made no attempt to come closer, within the range of their guns. It had been brought forward without adequate support. Far to the right their own battle cruiser could be seen moving into place, along with the stationary first destroyer group and robot-repulse ships, all perfectly positioned. And they knew also that their own carrier, every measure the equal of the enemy's, was not far off, ready to be brought into play at a moment's notice.

The twenty-odd officers and staff within the battle room, to that point largely somber and dutiful, trying to suppress anxiety and inner doubt, seemed to come suddenly to life. They attended their posts with greater enthusiasm, and unconsciously began to speak louder and faster, through the headsets and to each other. For the real fighting had begun; it was no longer left to dark imagining. They were doing it, with the clear and early advantage going to their own forces. Their commanding officer, a staid veteran who had been here before, grew in their eyes to something almost more than human, while the enemy's commanders had begun to show signs of impatience and inexperience. The oncoming fleet, which before had loomed so ominous, became mere ships once more, made of the same metal, and no greater than their own.

Dubcek seemed to sense this, and though he did not want to lower their confidence in him—-this confidence, and the increased efficiency it brought, were a major reason for all that he did—-he knew it was far too soon to be jubilant. Before giving his next order, he spoke to them directly.

"Communications. Give me an open channel to all vessels." In a louder voice. "I want the rest of you to listen to this also." The channel was opened, and his voice subtly amplified within the chamber.

"This is your commander speaking. Do not be premature in your enthusiasm. Our enemy has overextended himself and diminished his force without apparent gain, but that is all. While his actions may seem foolish, we do not know all the reasons they were taken. I have learned in my many years that things are not always as they first appear. If you believe everything you see, or must see confirmation of all you believe is happening, you will be misled. I have faith in your courage and your judgment. We still have a long way to go." Without further speech he moved away and stood by Brunner's tactical projection globe. The room became quieter, the faces more serious.

"Your observations, lieutenant."

"May I ask a question first?"

"Ask it."

"Do you suspect he has reinforcements coming? If not, I see no logical pattern to his later development. Why did he not move straight ahead with his robot batteries, try to weaken our forward wall?"

"War is seldom logical, Brunner, but it is a valid point. As for reinforcements, I wish I knew. I don't see how; but I must remember it is possible."

Masaryk's voice. "Enemy robot ship coming straight ahead, corridor two." Brunner suppressed an urge to look out through the wide portal.

Dubcek pointed to the globe, again made several marks on the glass.
"You see. Now he's done it, but a step too late. Carry on." He
strode back to the command station, nodding sternly to his second.
"Bring our carrier to corridor three. Engage his if he's willing."

Several minutes later the huge outline of the German/Czech carrier ship became visible, though still at a distance, as it took up its position beside and slightly ahead of them. The engagement, if it took place, would happen right before their eyes.

The fighters and larger torpedo ships of both vessels continued to stream out of launching chutes spread across their undersides, forming up into squadrons, attack groups and flotillas. The starboard guns of the Mongoose were activated, and Masaryk could be heard giving instructions to the captain of the second battle cruiser.

Brunner looked up to see Dubcek standing before the foot-thick plate glass of the battle room portal, headset on and hands clasped tightly behind his back, the one held by the other opening and closing sporadically. The huge 'window' began at his feet, rising and arching high above his head. For a moment Brunner's eyes lost their focus, and the aging commander seemed to stand among the stars: between two giants and their swarming offspring, trying to orchestrate, or at least influence, a battle between angry gods and their armies, wholly unaware, and indifferent to his presence.

The Belgian-Swiss carrier, which