It is the nature of all things to move toward chaos. Disorder. Entropy. Energy may be spent to instill order, but ultimately chaos prevails.* And ultimately, again, order prevails - everything is evenly distributed. Order crumbles to chaos, which crumbles to order.
*There are multiple truths to this statement. First, the work done to instill order generates heat, which moves particles faster, melts solids, boils liquids, accelerates activity: chaos increases. Second, the use of fuel to perform the work of instilling order generally splits the fuel molecule into more molecules (gasoline is combusted into multiple molecules of CO2, a single molecule of glucose combines with six molecules of oxygen to form six molecules of CO2 and six of H2O, etc). Third, once energy ceases being spent on instilling order, chaos resumes its advance; and fuel is finite in quantity.
Friday, May 27, 2016
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Truth and Beauty 12-6
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One level up, Jack was also sitting at his table, but in his case it was due to the greater spread of space it offered, compared to his desk. Roth was now only a day or so from the Achilles system, where he would have to submit copies of all of her logs and her statement of condition, itself containing condensed reports from each of his line and warrant officers. When Roth had approached the Neva system, Jack had used his computer for the laborious task of fitting everything together (any disagreement between the reports was liable to mire him in years of meetings and correspondence), but the screen was really too small for him to see everything at once, and he was now attempting the process in hard copy.
“No wonder so many captains are bitter, crotchety old men and women,” he said, laying down the master’s records of coolant consumed and rubbing his eyes again. He surveyed the piles of paper, trying to recall which held Roth’s receipts from her last port of call. Perhaps the carpenter could make him color-coded, labeled paperweights, as he remembered one of his previous captains having.
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Thursday, May 12, 2016
Truth and Beauty 12-5
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There were no injuries.
More correctly, there were no injuries that reached the sick berth, though when Katya made her rounds of Roth’s first-aid kits at the end of the week she had several bandages and one or two cold packs to replace. Roth’s skipper made a brief note in her log (Three bells first watch, engaged French Juno class frigate @ approx. post 27.34º02’16”. Fired 12 rounds, driving off same. Received 1 broadside; no casualties or damage.), while the midshipmen made rather more dramatic descriptions in their personal journals (kept against the time when they were to be evaluated against possible promotions to lieutenants), some reaching several pages in length.
Stephen, on the way to his own dinner several days later, heard Barus’s voice float out through the open door of the starboard midshipman’s berth, describing the encounter as if the midshipman had personally held off the entire French fleet. Stephen was lingering in the hall out of a curiosity to hear how far the midshipman would stretch the truth, and how far his mess mates would allow him to stretch it, when he realized that he had unconsciously used the term mess mates.
“I am becoming a space-faring creature,” he observed to himself with some complacency, and he entered the wardroom at last.
Inside, he found seven of his own mess mates, joined quickly by an eighth, the purser, stepping from his cabin and wiping his forehead. This left Mister Veidt’s as the only empty seat; presumably he was up on the bridge. Stephen and the others took their accustomed places, and Mister Greenstreet said his formulaic grace.
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Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Truth and Beauty 12-4
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Roth’s guns went off for a last time, and Jack watched the bolts reach across the gulf to the now visibly retreating enemy. Both bolts reached this time, but there was no cascade of lightning as the shields collapsed, no flare as one of the engines was struck square-on, no million-to-one shot that destroyed the Frenchman, scattering her into dozens or thousands of pieces. Just the dancing splash of the plasma against the shields, and the continued dimming of the engines as the enemy retreated ever further away. He stared after the ship, not sure if he was disappointed or relieved, not sure if he should be disappointed or relieved.
A throat cleared, and turning, Jack saw the master. “Mister Henreid?”
The master cleared his throat again. “Shall we stand down from quarters, then, sir?” Behind Mister Henreid, Jack saw the officers and crew in smiles and relief.
Jack smiled back. Yes, he could afford that. He had bluffed the enemy and won. And he had a sense that, having won this bluff, his men were more solidly behind him than they had been before: he had shown his mettle, it appeared. He turned to the radar operator. “How far off is she?”
“Approaching forty clicks sir, and still accelerating.”
“Keep tabs on her, and save all our data on her to a file for the Admiralty. Label it with today’s date and send me a copy. And yes, let us stand down from quarters. Mister Greenstreet, I believe it is your watch?”
“Yes, sir,”
“Very good. I shall be in my quarters. I am to be notified of any changes. Have the carpenter sound the well, of course, though I doubt he’ll find anything, and check with sick bay regarding any injuries.”
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Sunday, May 1, 2016
Truth and Beauty 12-3
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Stephen picked himself up gingerly. Nothing seemed to be broken, but one knee hurt in a way that suggested a bruise in the making. Ignoring his tipped-over chair, he limped into the hallway, from where he could see into the waiting room where Katya still sat. “Yes, sir?”
“I think we were shot.”
“Yes, sir, but the shields absorbed it.”
Stephen considered this. Yes, he had heard of shielding. “Do you suppose there are wounded?”
“I’ll let you know if they come, sir.”
Stephen couldn’t decide if he was being overly concerned, or Katya was overly blasé. “Ah,” he said. “Well. In that case.”
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