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.