reason for it. So, so long, guys.”
Chapter 13
For many weeks the production of Ardan warships and missiles had been spiraling
upward.
Half a mountain range of solid rock had been converted into fabricated super-steel and
armament. Superdreadnoughts were popping into existence at the rate of hundreds per
minute. Missiles were rolling off the ends of assembly lines like half-pint tin cans out of
can-making machines.
The Strett warcraft, skeletons and missiles, would emerge into normal space anywhere
within a million miles of Ardvor. The Ardan missiles were powered for an acceleration of
one hundred gravities. That much the Kedy brains, molded solidly into teflon-lined,
massively braced steel spheres, could just withstand.
To be certain of breaking the Strett screens, an impact velocity of about six miles per
second was necessary. The time required to attain this velocity was about ten seconds,
and the flight distance something over thirty miles.
Since the Stretts could orient themselves in less than one second after emergence,
even this extremely tight packing of missiles-only sixty miles apart throughout the entire
emergence volume of space-would still give the Stretts the initiative by a time-ratio of
more than ten to one.
Such tight packing was of course impossible. It called for many billions of defenders
instead of the few millions it was possible for the Omans to produce in the time they
had. In fact, the average spacing was well over ten thousand miles when the invading
horde of Strett missiles emerged and struck.
How they struck!
There was nothing of finesse about that attack; nothing of skill or of tactics: nothing but
the sheer brute force of overwhelming superiority of numbers and of over-matching
power.
One instant all space was empty. The next instant it was full of invading missiles-a
superb exhibition of coordination and timing.
And the Kedy control, upon which the defenders had counted so heavily, proved
useless. For each Strett missile, within a fraction of a second of emergence, darted
toward the nearest Oman missile with an acceleration that made the one
hundred-gravity defenders seem to be standing still.
One to one, -missiles crashed into missiles and detonated. There were no solid or
liquid end-products. Each of those frightful weapons carried so many
megatons-equivalent of atomic concentrate that all nearby space blossomed into su-
peratomic blasts hundreds of times more violent than the fireballs of lithium-hydride
fusion bombs.
For a moment even Hilton was stunned; but only for a moment.
“Kelly!.” he barked. “Get your big stuff out there! Use the boosters!” He started for the
door at a full run. “That tears it-that really tears it! Scrap the plan. I’ll board the Sirius
and take the task-force to Strett. Bring your stuff along, Skipper, as soon as you’re
ready.”
Ardan superdreadnoughts in their massed thousands poured out through Ardvor’s
one-way screen. Each went instantly to work. Now the Kedy control system, doing what
it was designed to do, proved its full worth. For the weapons of the big battle-wagons
did not depend upon acceleration, but were driven at the speed of light; and Grand
Fleet Operations were planned and were carried out at the almost infinite velocity of
thought itself.
Or, rather, they were not planned at all. They were simply carried out, immediately and
without confusion.
For all the Kedys were one. Each Kedy element, without any lapse of time whatever for
consultation with any other, knew exactly where every other element was; exactly what
each was doing; and exactly what he himself should do to make the maximum
contribution to the common cause.
Nor was any time lost in relaying orders to crewmen within the ship. There were no
crewmen. Each Kedy element was the sole personnel of, and was integral with, his
vessel. Nor were there any wires or relays to impede and slow down communication.
Operational instructions, too, were transmitted and were acted upon with thought’s
transfinite speed. Thus, if decision and execution were not quite mathematically
simultaneous, they were separated by a period of time so infinitesimally small as to he
impossible of separation.
Wherever a Strett missile was, or wherever a Strett skeleton-ship appeared, an Oman
beam reached it, usually in much less than one second. Beam clung to
screen-caressingly, hungrily-absorbing its total energy and forming the first-stage
booster. Then, three microseconds later, that booster went off into a ragingly
incandescent, glaringly violent burst of fury so hellishly, so inconceivably hot that less
than a thousandth of its total output of energy was below the very top of the visible
spectrum!
If the previous display of atomic violence had been so spectacular and of such
magnitude as to defy understanding or description, what of this? When hundreds of
thousands of Kedys, each wielding world-wrecking powers as effortlessly and as deftly
and as precisely as thought, attacked and destroyed millions of those tremendously
powerful war fabrications of the Stretts! The only simple answer is that all nearby space
might very well have been torn out of the most radiant layers of S-Doradus itself.
Hilton made the hundred yards from office door to curb in just over twelve seconds.
Larry was waiting. The car literally burned a hole in the atmosphere as it screamed its
way to Ardane Field.
It landed with a thump. Heavy black streaks of synthetic rubber marked the pavement
as it came to a screeching, shrieking stop at the flagship’s main lock. And, in the instant
of closing that lock’s outer portal, all twenty-thousand-plus warships of the task force
took off as one at ten gravities. Took off, and in less than one minute went into
overdrive.
All personal haste was now over. Hilton went up into what he still thought of as the
“control room,” even though he knew that there were no controls, nor even any
instruments, anywhere aboard. He knew what he would find there. Fast as he had
acted, Temple had not had as far to go and she had got there first.
He could not have said, for the life of him, how he actually felt about this direct
defiance of his direct orders. He walked into the room, sat down beside her and took
her hand.
“I told you to stay home, Temple,” he said:
“I know you did. But I’m not only the assistant head of your Psychology Department. I’m
your wife, remember? ‘Until death do us part.’ And if there’s any way in the universe I
can manage it, death isn’t going to part us-at least, this one isn’t. If this is it, we’ll go
together.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He put his arm around her, held her close. “As a psych I wouldn’t
give a whoop. You’d be expendable. But as my wife, especially now that you’re
pregnant, you aren’t. You’re a lot more important to the future of our race than I am.”
She stiffened in the circle of his arm. “What’s that crack supposed to mean? Think I’d
ever accept a synthetic zombie imitation of you for my husband and go on living with it
just as though nothing had happened?”
Hilton started to say something, but Temple rushed heedlessly on: “Drat the race! No
matter how many children we ever have you were first and you’ll stay first, and if you
have to go I’ll go, too, so there! Besides, you know darn well that they can’t duplicate
whatever it is that makes you Jarvis Hilton.”
“Now wait a minute, Temple. The conversion . . .”
“Yes, the conversion,” she interrupted, triumphantly. “The thing I’m talking about is
immaterial-untouchable-they didn’t-couldn’t–do anything about it at all. Kedy, will you
please tell this big goofus that even though you have got Jarvis Hilton’s brain you aren’t
Jarvis Hilton and never can be?”
The atmosphere of the room vibrated in the frequencies of a deep bass laugh. “You
are trying to hold a completely untenable position, friend Hilton. Any attempt to convince
a mind of real power that falsity is truth is illogical. My advice is for you to surrender.”
That word hit Temple hard. “Not surrender, sweetheart. I’m not fighting you. I never
will.” She seized both of his hands; tears welled into her glorious eyes. “It’s just that I
simply couldn’t stand it to go on living without you!”
“I know, darling.” He got up and lifted her to her feet, so that she could come properly
into his arms. They stood there, silent and motionless, for minutes.
Temple finally released herself and, after feeling for a handkerchief she did not have,
wiped her eyes with a forefinger and then wiped the finger on her bare leg. She grinned
and turned to the Omans. “Prince, will you and Dark Lady please conjure us up a
steak-and-mushrooms supper? They should be in the pantry . . . since this Sirius was
designed for us.”
After supper the two sat companionably on a davenport. “One thing about this
business isn’t quite clear,” Temple said. “Why all this tearing rush? They haven’t got the
booster or anything like it, or they’d have used it. Surely it’ll take them a long time to go