Q-KB1

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 had the edge in tempo and preparation,

came forward. Squadrons bolted forward, and both sides began to fire.

At first the more experienced German/Czech pilots seemed to be holding

the enemy off, keeping his forces from linking up into an effective

attacking thrust. But the sheer numbers of the ships pouring out at

them (which they had no way of anticipating), and the equally

surprising effectiveness of the carrier's supporting fire, began slowly

but inexorably to turn the tide against them. Lasers and explosive

torpedoes flashed. Ships burst silently into flame, or broke apart, or

were disintegrated. The tortured voices that came to Brunner through

his ear-piece were soon more than he could bear. Almost he wished that

the gray goliath would turn its guns on them, that they might respond.

But it was a wasted hope. Though tantalizingly close, the aggressor

and all his forces were just out of range, and they knew it.

Brunner next became aware, to his dismay, that none of this seemed to

alarm either Dubcek or his executive officer. The commander watched,

but gave no order; and Masaryk continued to speak only to the captain

of the corresponding battleship.

He suddenly realized what this meant, but a part of his mind refused to

accept it. They were sacrificing their own carrier to set up and then

destroy the other. Strategically it was sound---weakening the enemy's

thrust, buying time for the reinforcements.

But what of the lives and humanity, the hundreds of men and women whom

Dubcek had just spoken to about courage and judgment? What about their

FAMILIES? Didn't he care? Didn't anyone care? And where was the God

that he had reluctantly begun to believe in?

At that moment all he knew was hatred and grief. For perhaps a minute

he ignored his instruments, glaring instead at Dubcek's back, silently

daring him to turn around.

Suddenly a ship burst apart directly in front of them, not more than

ten kilometers off. Out of the wreckage a tiny white projectile moved

toward them, and others of similar shape were sent flying in all

directions. To his horror Brunner recognized them as men. Too light

an object to trigger their shields, the writhing body came straight at

them, seeming to gather speed, and with a final orgasm of misery,

crashed against the glass.

With a dull thud it bounced off and back into the emptiness of Space,

leaving a wide splotch of blood on the glass at their commander's feet.

If Brunner hated him then, the emotion changed when the man finally

did turn around. There were no tears, but something in his face spoke

of a much deeper wound. His voice boomed across the room.

"If there is anyone here who does not yet know what war is, look with

your eyes!" His arm jerked toward the stain. "It is blood! Blood and

men dying."

As if cued by these words a blinding flash, followed in rapid

succession by several others, lit the room. The enemy carrier, finally

scoring a direct and unshielded hit, had sent its blackened counterpart

to infinity.

Oberheim (Voices): A Chronicle of War · 第 43 / 105 题