The Voyage of the Star Wolf (11 page)

Korie took a breath. “Okay, HARLIE. Let's try a hard one. What about lying to the crew to preserve their morale? Suppose—just suppose—a situation has occurred where the crew's confidence and self-esteem would be seriously, perhaps irreparably, damaged by knowledge of the truth. Would you conceal that truth?”

HARLIE hesitated.

For effect
? Korie wondered.
Or for real
?

“I can postulate several circumstances where such a mistruth might be appropriate,” said HARLIE. “Let me approach it this way. If I saw the need for such a concealment of fact, I would first insist on discussing the matter with the commanding officer of the vessel. I would prefer not to lie, but I would do as the captain or acting-captain required.”

Korie started to relax.

HARLIE continued, “Let me also say this. I am aware of the fact that human beings are basically irrational animals; that your emotions drive your actions much more than you like to believe. Therefore, it behooves a being such as myself to consider human emotions as an important part of the behavioral equation. If it were appropriate to conceal a fact to protect the morale of the crew, I could understand the need for such an action. However, let me also note the danger involved to one's own personal credibility. Should the lie be discovered and correctly attributed, it could significantly impair one's ability to command the respect of his or her shipmates. Are we talking about a particular lie or a hypothetical lie, Mr. Korie?”

“Uh—yes.”

“I see.”

Do you
? wondered Korie.

“Let me note one additional problem. As you know, I maintain the autolog for the entire vessel. I can, on command, seal off parts of that log from casual inquiry. In fact, certain aspects of the log are automatically sealed as a matter of routine. In the situation you are postulating, should a commanding officer request the concealment of certain facts from his or her crew, this could also require the non-routine sealing of additional parts of the log. The more record-locking requested, the more the log would become non-retrievable, except to higher authority. While this situation is not unusual in certain high-security operations, in a vessel such as this, the mere existence of such locked records would be a subject of some discussion among the crew and would possibly lead to speculation and suspicion, even if there were no true cause for same. Our battle log, of course, has been sealed; that is routine. I would suggest
that any commanding officer consider very carefully the practice of locking his crew out of the records of their own ship. Or, to put it another way, ‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!'”

“I recognize that,” said Leen. “That's from Shakespeare.
A Midsummer Night's Dream
. Puck says it.”

“Sorry, Mr. Leen,” said HARLIE. “That line is actually a quote from Sir Walter Scott.
Marmion
, Stanza 17. I believe you're actually thinking of Puck's line from Act III, Scene ii, Stanza 115: ‘Lord, what fools these mortals be!' However, an earlier version of the same line can also be found in the Epistles written by Lucius Annaeus Seneca, who lived from 8
B.C.
to 65
A.D.
The Seneca quote omits the reference to a lord.”

“The things you learn in space,” Korie said dryly.

Leen grunted. “Not a lot of tactical value in Shakespeare—or Scott. Or whoever.”

Korie allowed himself a grin. “Well, the data library seems to be unimpaired. That is useful knowledge.” He relaxed and said, “HARLIE, I think you've made your point. I'm going to certify you. You're back on duty as of this moment.”

“Thank you, Mr. Korie. Thank you, Mr. Leen.”

“Y'know,” said Hodel. “We're gonna start suffering from the effects of prolonged free fall.”

“There's a treadmill and a centrifuge in cargo-2,” said Korie, not even looking up from the holographic display. “Use them.” He tapped a control screen in front of him. “HARLIE, show me your best guess out to a hundred and fifty light hours.”

The display rippled, shifted, expanded. “There is definitely an object eleven light hours aft of us. It might be debris,” said HARLIE. “It might be a derelict. As soon as we open the scanning lens, I'll be able to give you a more precise answer.”

“Anything else?”

“No, Mr. Korie.”

Hodel and Li floated up to the display then. “Chief, we're waiting for you,” Korie said.

Chief Leen's voice replied, “Stand by. I'm still locking down.”

“Thank you.”

Hodel spun around in his chair to face the display. Li drifted across from his own station, and anchored himself close by. Two other crewmembers positioned themselves nearby in case they were needed.

If you turned a gravity field inside out, you got a gravity cage. If you used a pinpoint black hole to create a gravity cage, you got a hyperstate nodule. When the event horizon of the hyperstate nodule was congruent to the event horizon of the singularity, you had a hyperstate scanning lens.

By itself, a scanning lens was so small as to be almost undetectable; but it was still sensitive enough to respond to the fluctuations of other hyperstate bubbles in its vicinity. The larger they were, or the faster they were moving, the more detectable they would be. Conversely, the larger a hyperstate envelope was, the more receptive it was to the disturbance caused by even a pinpoint field. There was a very real danger in opening a scanning lens that a ship might give itself away to a vessel with a much larger eye. Like the
Dragon Lord
.

A larger lens can always see farther than a small one—and the
Dragon Lord
had the largest lens of all.

A hyperstate nodule also had other applications.

Modulate the field and it could be used as a faster-than-light signaling device. Expand it so that it enveloped a starship, and you had a nearly impenetrable shield. Beam weapons and shock waves from nuclear devices simply curved back upon themselves. Manipulate a hyperstate field, put enough stress on it, and it will
move
. Put
enough
stress on a hyperstate field and it will achieve a faster-than-light velocity.

The essential part of the hyperstate technology was the intense gravitational catastrophe known as a black hole. The problem was that black holes, in and of themselves, were easily detectable by the simplest of G-wave devices. That was the price of the technology.

Or, as they taught it at the Academy: “There is no such thing as a free launch.”

Chief Leen's voice came to Korie then. Korie thought he sounded tired, but his determination was clearly audible. “The singularity is at go. The Hole Gang is at go,” he said. “Any time you're ready. Let's do it.”

“Thank you,” Korie said. “HARLIE?” he asked.

“I see no reason not to proceed.”

“Hodel?”

The helmsman nodded. Behind him, Li also agreed.

“All right,” said Korie. He looked from one to the other. “Initiate the field. Open the scanning lens.”

Korie thought he heard a grunt of satisfaction from the engine room, but he couldn't be sure. Even though HARLIE monitored and directed all conversations, the communications net still sometimes played tricks on the mind.

Hodel was watching the panel in front of him. “Field is stable and confirmed,” he said. “HARLIE is now scanning.”

Korie turned his attention to the display. The large globular field showed only a few vague areas of interference. Possibly debris, possibly something more. Now that the scanning lens was open, they might have a better idea.

“I'm starting to get a picture,” said HARLIE.

The display began to focus. The vagueness eleven light hours aft of the
LS-1187
sharpened quickly.

“I believe we're looking at a derelict liberty ship,” said HARLIE. “A vessel very much like our own. I can detect no signs of activity.”

“Could they be lurking, like us?”

“Yes, that's a possibility. I can only report what I see.”

“Do they have a scanning lens open?”

“No,” said HARLIE. “As near as I can tell, they are totally inactive.”

“Can they see us?”

“If they are using passive G-scanners, they should be able to pick up our hyperstate disturbance, yes.”

“HARLIE—” Korie had a sudden thought. “Could they be a Morthan cruiser? Lurking?”

HARLIE paused, considering the possibility. “I can't rule it out. The Morthans appear to have a sophisticated repertoire of strategy and tactics. I doubt that we have seen the full range of their military behavior demonstrated.”

“He doesn't know,” said Hodel.

“He's got a lot of ways to say it too,” said Korie. He frowned, staring at the display.

“Close the lens?” asked Hodel.

“Whoever he is, he's got to have seen us by now. And he's got to know that we know he's there. If he's one of ours, then our failure to attack should demonstrate to him that we're an Alliance ship. On the other hand, if he's one of
theirs
, our failure to attack . . .proves we're a target.” Korie made a decision. “No. Let's assume he's either dead or playing dead. We opened the lens to see if it was safe to proceed. We know now that it is.” Korie nodded to Hodel. “Set a course for the rift wall.”

“Subluminal?”

Korie nodded. “That's right.”

“Anyplace in particular?”

“Indulge yourself. It doesn't matter. It's only till we clear this area.” Korie glanced back to the display. “HARLIE?”

“Yes, Mr. Korie?”

“Can you maintain a fix on that other ship just using the passive scanners?”

“Oh, yes. Now that we have the precise readings from the lens, I can extrapolate more accurately from the cruder data.”

“All right. You can close the—”

“Excuse me,” interrupted HARLIE. “Something is happening.” On the display, the derelict vessel suddenly blossomed to life.

“They're alive! They were hiding like us,” said Hodel.

“—and now they've gone hyper. Goddammit!” Korie snapped. “HARLIE, close the lens.
Now
!”

“Morthan?” asked Li, pulling himself back to the weapons station.

“No, I don't think so—” said Hodel. “That looks like a liberty signature.”

“They're not closing on us,” said Korie. “They're bolting.”

They watched the display in silence. The tiny hyperstate ripple stabilized quickly, then began creeping out toward the edge of the scan.

“Stupid!” swore Korie. “They've gone to max power. They'll be visible for days. Weeks!”

“We scared them—” Hodel whispered it. The thought was terrifying. “They thought we were Morthans.”

“How could they be so stupid?” Korie wanted to pound the display; he caught himself before he did. In free fall, that would have sent him tumbling across the Operations deck.

“Watch them, HARLIE, for as long as you can.”

“Should I reopen the lens?”

“No!”

For long moments, the ripple crawled sideways across the display. Three times HARLIE expanded the range.

“Maybe they'll make it . . .?” Hodel said, hopefully.

“It's a long way to go.”

“But—maybe the Morthans are gone—”

“You want to bet your life on it?”

“Uh—” Hodel didn't answer.

“I
don't
,” finished Korie.

Leen came up from the engine room then and anchored himself at the far end of the display. He held on with both hands and stared into the glowing field. His expression was tight with anxiety.

Korie looked to him. “Chief?”

Leen said, “If they make it—”

“You think the odds are better for us? They're worse. If there are any Morthans in visibility range, they're all headed this way now.”