"And now I'll let him tell you more about what he does and how he does it."

Almost no one spoke, anywhere in the fleet. Inwardly Soong fidgeted. Because Charley had told him almost nothing about what he'd say. "One of my differences," he'd explained, "is that I function best when playing by ear."

Now Charley broke the silence, in a voice that was not in the least robotic. One might almost have called it merry. "I am Charley Gordon. I am thirty-three years old, and for most of those years I've been war gaming. It's as if I was born for it.

"My response to almost anything is an action. An action! Me, who lives in a box! I act electronically, via whatever mechanisms I'm connected with. Including my vocator, with which I'm speaking to you now, and by whatever artificial intelligence or other server I'm connected with. In this case shipsmind, especially its battlecomp function.

"As battle master I have certain innate and very important advantages. For example, I absorb books and other data sources like a sponge absorbs water. And none of it leaks out or evaporates. Instead it integrates, unifies, forms a coherent system. Where it harmonizes according to natural laws I can only sense, but use intuitively. Use in ways analogous to the ways I communicate with War House in real time, even though Kunming is hyperspace months away."

Soong had gotten used to talking with Charley Gordon; now he was listening to him with different ears, crew ears. Great Tao! he thought. He's charismatic! How did I miss that? He positively radiates intelligence and assurance! This will work better than I'd hoped.

"Some of what I tell you may sound strange," Charley went on. "But most of you have had technical training and games experience, so you will understand. If not at once, then when you've seen it in action.

"Equally important… " He paused. "Let me put it this way. Things happen in sequences. A cause results in an effect, which causes another effect. Et cetera. The causes may include a human decision, a weather incident, an argument, leaky plumbing… almost anything. Such cause/effect sequences I call vectors, and vectors often intersect, and interact.

"For example: Some geophysical incident-say a tidal wave resulting from a volcanic eruption-destroys a village in the Sulu Archipelago. As one result, a surviving villager migrates to Zamboanga, where he meets a stranger at a mosque. They talk, and decide to become robbers together. Ambushing a well-dressed man, they steal a message plaque he'd carried in a body wallet. The message is in a Tamil dialect which neither knows, but… " He paused. "One thing leads to another, and before long, one robber is dead at the hands of Han smugglers, and our ex-villager is hiding among pilgrims en route to Mecca."

His listeners could hear the calm and smiling competence in Charley's voice. "A vector in progress, you see. Now we Provos are on a vector which will soon intersect the vector of the Wyzhnyny armada. And when those vectors intersect, they will result in a spray of new vectors.

"My greatest advantage as battle master is, I am able to sense the relevant vectors-and their probabilistic futures. Some vectors remain fixed over long periods of time: a planet in its orbit, a comet in its orbit. Eventually they may intersect, but very probably they will not. It would be useful to know in advance.

"Many other vectors are very erratic, like a spoiled child unrestrained in a toy store. Even those I can often foresee with some confidence. And while I do these things intuitively, I know them consciously."

The admiral listened intently. Charley had never brought up these things to him, though by hindsight they'd been apparent in his gaming.

"Mostly," Charley continued, "I can't project them very far. Many intersect with too many other effective vectors. Human and alien choices, and of course chaos functions, can cause vectors to change, and give rise to new vectors. But I am generally a few steps ahead of events, and that is a very important advantage.

"Beyond that, I coordinate factors and data very very well. Not as precisely as a shipsmind, but on a higher level. For what is termed `intuition' in an artificial intelligence is simply the use of stochastic processes to extrapolate beyond or around areas of weak or ambiguous data. Human intuition can go well beyond that."

Soong listened while Charley wrapped up his talk. Among other things, the savant knew when to stop. When he was done, the admiral added a few closing comments, then ended the session. It seemed to him they'd pulled it off. Or Charley had. Over the next day or so he'd know absolutely, one way or the other, by fleet performance.

Meanwhile Altai's shipsmind had uploaded the contents of its upgraded battlecomp to the rest of the fleet. And when the all-hands session was over, the admiral called for a command conference on the closed command frequency. A few hours later, the force was ready to begin simulation drills.

The simdrills went so well that three days later the force began "steel drills." In these the battle groups moved physically in space while Altai's battlecomp threw sequences of enemy responses at them. From his battle command station on the bridge, Charley rattled off rapid shorthand instructions to shipsmind, instructions forwarded by radio to the rest of the force, which fought as separate but coordinated battle groups.

In F-space, maneuvers were as limited as ever; one thing Charley couldn't do was cancel inertia. But by anticipating "enemy responses," he permitted individual battle groups to transit from F-space to warpspace with minimal losses. And his control and coordination of beam fire and torpedo attacks against enemy movements was deadly.

It was all pretend, of course, but the Provo crews had gained a large degree of optimism, and an enthusiasm that made the whole venture exciting. Even the "losses" of Provo warships did not greatly cool them. They were, they told each other, going to teach the Wyzhnyny the cost of bringing war to human space.

Alvaro Soong was not as optimistic. The drills had been as realistic as possible, short of shooting at each other. But it was still a limited reality, because Wyzhnyny weaponry, tactics, nerve-even the number of their warships-was unknown.

Which was, he reminded himself, the main reason he'd been sent there, he and his Provos. At the least, he needed to maintain engagement long enough to forward a definitive picture of Wyzhnyny battle capacities to War House. To inflict substantive damage would be a bonus.

A Time of Truth

The armada had emerged from hyperspace so often in this galaxy, it had become routine, and no longer drew Quanshuk to the bridge or to his feet. He watched from the AG couch in his quarters.

"… five, four, three, two, one… "

Stars exploded onto the screen, but their beauty no longer lifted him. Even the question-would one of its planets be habitable?-had long since become routine. The armada emerged every shipsday or two-at every star whose isogravs suggested any possibility of a habitable planet. Usually staying only long enough to discover there wasn't one. Sometimes five minutes was enough. Sometimes they sent a Survey ship for a closer look. When one seemed clearly habitable, they stayed several days, and left with a sense of accomplishment. But after so many, even that was routine now.

This emergence came during shipsnight, and Quanshuk closed his eyes again. The bridge would call him if…

His comm yammered, and he jerked wide awake. "This is the admiral," he answered.