“Something like.”
This complicated?”
“Pretty much.”
“How do you keep it straight?”
Gilligan considered. Although the dragon riders were skilled fliers and sometimes fought in wing or multi-wing strength they apparently seldom coordinated more than a squadron attack at once. More, the idea of closely coordinating forces which were out of sight of each other was completely alien to them.
“Practice is part of it, of course,” Gilligan said, “but scheduling is more of it. One of the things we’ve found is that scheduling is a force multiplier. It lets us put maximum effort on the target at the right times.”
The other looked interested and said nothing.
“So the first thing we do is draft an ATO, that’s an air tasking order, that coordinates the entire operation. That comes down from the very top with basic assignments, timetable and such. Then each lower echelon fleshes it out so it all works together.”
“Could you draft this—ATO—for this operation?” Martinus asked.
Traditional role for grounded pilots, he thought to himself, pushing paper.
“Sure, but it’d take time. Normally we’ve got software to help us.”
Off in the corner a tall blond woman in a wizard’s robe was listening intently. Mick vaguely recognized her as someone he’d seen hanging around with Bal-Simba.
“Basically it’s a matter of deciding what you want to do when and working backwards.”
“It sounds complicated.”
“Used to take a whole room full of staff officers to do it. Now we have specialized software, but before that we used to do it on spreadsheets.”
The other nodded. “It would take something the size of a sheet to write all of this down.”
“No, it’s a piece of software, a program. But you don’t have those here do you?” He thought for a minute. “You know, I’ll bet Jerry and his friends could turn one out in no time.”
“The Mighty are all busy at their own tasks,” the other grunted.
“Forgive me, My Lords.” Mick turned and saw the blond woman had joined them. “I could not help overhearing and I think perhaps we can convince the wizards to give you what you want.” She turned toward Mick. “You are the Great Gilligan, are you not?”
It took Mick a second to recognize how his rank had transmuted. “That’s major. Actually I’m retired. Call me Mick.”
The woman waved it off as if it were of no moment. “Very well, Mick I am Arianne, Bal-Simba’s assistant. I wonder if perhaps you could help me.”
TWENTY-THREE – ENTER THE DWARVES
Arianne growled in frustration and tossed her pen aside.
Trouble?” Bal-Simba asked mildly, looking up from his own work.
This plan of Gilligan’s makes my head hurt.”
“And mine as well,” the big wizard agreed. “
“Tis said that simple plans work best. But here we must have complexity if we are to attain our goal.” He gestured at the glowing letters. “So…”
This is far more complex than anything we have ever attempted and it must all work perfectly.”
Bal-Simba nodded. “Complex indeed. But then we face a situation of unprecedented complexity. Indeed, I cannot see how matters could become more complicated.”
He was about to go on, but Brian came dashing into the room. Then he remembered his lessons, pulled himself up short, squared his shoulders and pulled his tunic straight.
“Excuse me, My Lord, but the seneschal says there are a hundred dwarves here to see you.”
Arianne cocked an eyebrow at the big wizard, who shook his head and rose from his seat. “Foretelling the future was never my strong point,” he said, and sighed.
Either Brian had understated the case or Wulfram miscounted. There were actually 128 dwarves waiting in the great hall of the Wizards’ Keep. All adult males, since women and children never left the dwarven holds. All of them armored in knee-length bymies of chain or heavy leather, all of them wearing steel caps and all of them with their traditional dwarfish battle axes strapped to their backs. Since their round shields of iron-rimmed oak were slung over the axes and since the axes were tied fast to their baldrics by peace bonds, it was obvious this was not a war party. Just what it was, Bal-Simba and the other wizards weren’t sure. Dwarves seldom left their delvings and never in human memory had so many been seen at the Wizards’ Keep.