"Hitch yez skirts up, Lass. We're going for a paddle."
JUNO stared at me in frank disbelief.
"Captain, if you're thinking of approaching the nanite swarm any closer, I must respectfully object. Even now, our chances of survival are ridiculously low. In addition, your next order may trigger an ATG protocol conflict. I cannot execute any lawfully-issued command if it explicitly violates my self-preservation programming constraints, which I assume it most certainly will. I sincerely apologise."
"It's no' stopped you before." I grinned. "Verra weel, yer official objection has been duly noted, and I fully endorse yer assessment of oor current situation. However, yon goose is nae cooked yet."
JUNO's expression assumed an air of grim resolve. "What course of action do you propose, Sir?"
"Reset yer suit's EDF to a maximum output 25-millisecond pulse, an' follow ma lead. Stay close."
"Precisely what I was hoping you'd say, Sir. Lead the way."
Our suit defence fields arced up with a vicious, crackling hiss, enveloping both of us in their shimmering blue glare. If we're fated to go down on this forsaken pebble, we'll definitely go down swinging.
"Howay, ye manky wee bastards! Chew on this!" I roared, ploughing into the silvery mass.
The EDF pulses arced through the densely-packed nanites, instantly rendering them inert. Unfortunately, the electrical discharge only appeared to propagate in a twenty-metre radius before the surrounding nanites apparently figured out what was happening, and hastily withdrew.
That's good enough for me. Keep running and show those nanites a clean pair of heels.
One hundred and fifty metres in, my HUD flashes an alert. Commlink available. Work fast, wee Alex.
First job, get that boat off the deck. Take her up to fifty metres and hope that those buggers haven't worked out what we're about to do. The shuttle rises obediently in the distance, swinging her nose around to meet our heading. We keep running, our feet skimming lightly over the crumbling ground as we follow our outbound track, now swept clean of its smothering fine dust. Robbed of a far more tempting prize, the nanite swarm now turned its full attention to JUNO and I. Questing, green-tinged tentacles of hellish quicksilver rise all around us, actively probing for any weakness in our electrical defence fields. We hit the swarm at full speed with our blazing shields intact, the mass surges forward in an immediate attack response. Ants, meet Boot. Their intricate inner workings are instantly immolated on our shields, charred far beyond their creator's art to restore. We charged onward like a pair of enraged gods, leaving nothing but drifting ashes and ruin in our wake.
Cutty Sark loomed directly overhead. We halt our wildly successful banzai charge. The graviton field of the ship's lifters presses down hard upon our bodies. We are beginning to sink into the crust of Damocles. The shuttle delicately rotated into position, its amidships cargo bay doors now fully open.
"Grapples, oan the bounce!" I barked.
We soared into the air like a pair of bottle-rockets. I looked down, infinitely relieved to see the small empty space that we had fought for and held still remained clear. The downwash from the graviton lifters would be sufficient to hold the nanites back. However, I want to keep as many of them as I can in the smallest possible area.
On our way up to the cockpit, I outlined my next move to JUNO. Suffice it to say, her reaction was delightfully candid.
"With all due respect, Sir... HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY INSANE?
"Nay, Lass." I replied mildly, scratching my beard. "D'ye conjure it would help?"
My flippant response caught JUNO completely off-guard. True, this stunt has a definite whiff of pure insanity about it, although I've recalculated the numbers enough times to ensure a reasonable measure of success. However, I don't recommend this manoeuvre at all, unless you're made of The Right Stuff... In our case, that happens to be a fairly substantial endoskeleton of titanium poly-alloy.
"Primary drives are online. Mass compensators reset to 95 per cent load. Commencing pitch-up."
"Captain, there is a significant probability that this manoeuvre will result in our immediate destruction. I urge you to reconsider this course of action."
"Fair comment. I'm working with the first tool that springs to hand, Lass." I murmured. "Stand by."
Cutty Sark rotated into a vertical launch position. An awkward pose, particularly for any vessel normally launched from a horizontal orientation. Under normal circumstances, the cockpit would be a cacophony of alarms and red flashing lights at this point, and rightly so. This isn't a recommended launch configuration for any vehicle equipped with a fusion drive. There's a very good reason why.
"Aw reet, Lass... Let's make some glass."
Cutty Sark's drive chambers rumbled into life, barely ticking over. With any luck, the nanites below would detect a gradual increase in heat and attempt to draw upon this sudden influx of energy. Through the aft camera view, I can see the ground directly below the ship beginning to crumble under the influence of the mass compensator's graviton field. By decreasing its output a notch, I allowed the ship to sink to an altitude of 40 metres, bringing the ship's plasma exhaust jets into direct contact with the planet's surface. Our wee pals should be feeling some heat any moment now.
"Swarm density is still increasing on the outer periphery, Sir. Fifteen seconds before critical mass."
"Give us a hoy when they're all in. They'll be strollin' up to dine on their mates. They're no' proud."
"NOW!" JUNO yelled.
I shut down the mass compensators, simultaneously increasing thrust on the main drive. Cutty Sark's twin fusion drives flared, instantly vaporising everything on the planet's surface within a one-kilometre radius of the ship. We shot skyward at Mach 10, instantly accelerating at a rate that would have pulverised a human body. Come to think of it, that ride was none too comfortable from an android's perspective, either. The ship's inertial damping field did its best to cope... Poor thing.
Rather than resume our flight homeward, I shut off the fusion drive at apogee and engaged the shuttle's atmospheric flight mode, allowing Cutty Sark to decelerate and re-enter Damocles' atmosphere at a far more sensible velocity. One thing's certain; I won't be trying that mad move again. A 100-g acceleration achieved in under five seconds isn't an experience that either of us would care to repeat. Fortunately, our inner works were up to the job, but only just. The shuttle's structural integrity also suffered some grief, although it's nothing that a few days in dock won't fix.
Our launch site is hard to miss. The plasma flare from Cutty Sark's fusion drive has formed a seething lake of molten silicon dioxide, approximately 250 metres in diameter. Beyond the initial blast zone, the wave of intense heat that followed instantly vitrified the planet's surface more than 800 metres out from the epicentre. Thermal scans indicate that a superficial layer of less than a metre has been converted to glass, and it is beginning to solidify already. There is an unmistakeable green tinge to the outer edges, like uranium oxide glass. At least we managed to catch some.
"Captain, I am unable to detect any nanite EM activity. Residual thermal energy is masking their specific emission frequency, and I cannot reliably determine if any nanites survived. I'm sorry, Sir."
I shook my head. "Assume the worst possible case, Lass. It only takes one to rebuild a new swarm. I conjure we'll be needin' to beg a wee favour of Captain Halvorsen. Eight of them, to be precise."
The @Unknown from page 8 is actually the guy who was spamming and who was removed. Try clicking on the @Unknown and click on comments, see for yourself. This is just a educated guess.
Correct me if I’m wrong please.
After a couple of slow orbits of the crater, it became obvious that nothing more could be gained from watching a massive puddle of glass slowly cooling. I estimate that it will take at least a week before it solidifies, and at least another fortnight before it cools down to ambient temperature. It's definitely too early to tell if any nanites survived, and we're not planning to hang around waiting to find out. My greatest worry now is that we have achieved nothing more than creating a vast pool of resources for any survivors, and it won't take the swarm too long to rebuild up to its original mass.
"JUNO, please reconfigure that last recon probe for semi-autonomous patrol mode. Continuous sweep across the full EM spectrum. Enable close approach and full hazard avoidance behaviours."
"Aye, Sir." JUNO replied. "Parameters accepted. The probe is now configured and ready for launch."
I launched the probe, then pointed Cutty Sark's bow skyward. One close call is quite enough.
"TCS Cutty Sark to Carl Sagan Actual. Priority One transmission pending. Please respond."
"Carl Sagan Actual online. Go ahead, Captain Selkirk."
"Requesting secure communication link. Inbound encrypted data stream is intended for your eyes only. Please authenticate secure comm link status with your Alterra command ID Sigma."
There was a brief pause, then Halvorsen replied. "Received and understood, Captain. Stand by."
Halvorsen's command ID flashed up on the comms console. Credentials verified. Link is secure.
"Thank you, Captain Halvorsen. Uploading the data stream now. Decrypt using Savoy IV key."
"Data received, Cutty Sark. Wait ten."
"Understood. Standing by."
Precisely ten minutes later, Halvorsen's weathered face appeared on the comms screen.
"I can see why you wanted this business kept under wraps, Alex." Halvorsen said gravely. "If Alterra gets the slightest whisper of what you're asking of me, we're both finished. I have to account for every microgramme of fissile material on Sagan's manifest. This goes well beyond sneaking a handful of SmartPens from the Purser's locker. There's no possible way I can help you. I'm sorry."
I grinned conspiratorially.
"Och, I can supply the fissionables. Nae probs. What ah really need is tae borrow one of yer atom-jacks for a spell... A lad or lass that ye trust implicitly. Preferably one who doesn't quite see eye-to-eye with them daft wallies further up the ziggurat."
Halvorsen rubbed his chin speculatively. "Ja. I believe I might have the person you're looking for. Radka Zelenka. As long as you're not from Corporate, you and her will get along like a house on fire. She's bored out of her mind right now, and I'm sure she'd welcome a chance to blow something up."
"She sounds like a fair handful." I chuckled. "Rather like a certain lass o' ma ain acquaintance."
"Radka's a fine hand, provided she's kept busy." Halvorsen replied. "Since her particular skills haven't been in demand since we set up here, I've had her baby-sitting the Engineering department. There's not much else you can do with someone who builds customised rock-busters for a living."
"Verra weel, if you could brief her oan the particulars beforehand, we'll set up a workshop tae her exact specifications. Then it's just a matter of sending her planet-side during the next R&R rotation."
"One thing still puzzles me, Alex... You and your crew could easily build these devices. How could you possibly need Radka's help on any of this?"
I shrugged. "Any bampot can build a nuke. It may even go off as intended. We need eight of them. One point five megatons maximum yield for each device, verra heavy on the gamma output. Suffice to say, yon level of expertise is slightly beyond oor modest aspirations right now. Given the fragile nature of oor intended target, this job calls for a rare and most delicate touch. We need an artist."
I dont want to get too off topic or take up too much space between chapters, but the best science fiction blurs the line between reality and fiction, with enough supporting evidence that IS factual to make the tiny tweaks of fiction completely unnoticeable. I'd put Bugzapper up there with the greats, check out Arthur C. Clarke or Heinlein's work to see more examples. These were guys were able to postulate about technologies that didnt exist yet because of their firm understanding of what did exist. Clarke wrote things in the 30's and 40's that stand up to today's scrutiny rather well. Let's hope Bugzapper is the same XD.
I dont want to get too off topic or take up too much space between chapters, but the best science fiction blurs the line between reality and fiction, with enough supporting evidence that IS factual to make the tiny tweaks of fiction completely unnoticeable. I'd put Bugzapper up there with the greats, check out Arthur C. Clarke or Heinlein's work to see more examples. These were guys were able to postulate about technologies that didnt exist yet because of their firm understanding of what did exist. Clarke wrote things in the 30's and 40's that stand up to today's scrutiny rather well. Let's hope Bugzapper is the same XD.
Keep up the amazing work BZ!
My favorite is Jules Verne Nautilus from 20k Leagues Under the Sea. Prophetic in so many levels.
"Skull Island ATC to Cutty Sark. We have you on final approach vector. Welcome home, Captain."
"Thank you, Mister Savini. Please inform Héloise, IANTO and DIGBY of our imminent arrival."
"Aye, Sir." Enzo replied. "If you don't mind me asking, Sir... How was your checkout flight?"
"A bit of a doddle, actually. Thanks for asking." I replied casually. JUNO sighed, rolling her eyes.
"You haven't qualified yet, Captain Hotshot." She whispered, shaking her head in mock exasperation.
Later that evening, the crew gathered in Margaritaville for a richly-deserved unwinding session. With the next batch of shore-leave personnel due in less than 24 hours, I conjured we could we use a short break before returning to the daily grind. Besides, I have an ulterior motive for this jug-up.
Sensing a brief lull in the general uproar, I tapped my glass with a spoon, signalling for silence.
"Gentles all, pray attend for a moment. I have some information that I'd like to share with you."
I stood up, noting that most of the bar's patrons had turned attentively in my direction. Splendid.
"As you may already know, Borealis is almost ready for human occupation. If our current rate of progress remains constant, we should reach 95 per cent completion in one month's time. The ship's hull is already space-worthy, and primary engineering systems such as power, life support, shields and propulsion are installed and fully commissioned for service. A brilliant effort from all involved." I waited for the whooping and hollering to die down a little, raising my hand for silence once more.
"We shall be recruiting another intake of non-specialists, with an eye to training them for a variety of essential shipboard duties. Engineering, maintenance, life sciences and marine biology will be skills in high demand once Borealis has launched, as it will be another three months before the phase gate is operational. During this time, Borealis will undergo a comprehensive shake-down cruise. Unfortunately, this delay is as unavoidable as it is absolutely essential. Once we pass through Carl Sagan's phase gate, we are well and truly on our own. Transit times between gates do vary considerably, and it necessitates passing through normal space for weeks, or even months at a time. Think of that delay after launch as a period of acclimatisation to shipboard life. Mind you, there's plenty of creature comforts onboard Borealis to pass the time. It shouldn't be too unbearable."
That's what I like to see. Happy, smiling faces with a genuine reason to celebrate.
"Thank you. Now, just one last thing afore I shut up... Mister Savini, would you stand up, please?"
A look of pure bewilderment flooded over Enzo's face. Ha! Gotcha. Totally unexpected.
"S-sir?" Enzo stammered uncertainly. He rose smartly from his seat, nevertheless. Good lad.
"Mister Savini, in due consideration of your exemplary performance as an Ensign of the Merchant Service, it is my distinct pleasure to promote you to the rank of Lieutenant, First Class. Well done!"
Aye. He's already blushing deep into the infrared. Now, let's get this wee pollywog good and wellied tonight, by way of throwing him a proper celebration. If nothing else, I'm a reet stickler for tradition.
The following morning, our freshly-minted Lieutenant Savini appeared to be little worse for wear. True, he passed through his 'baptism' in The Usual Manner, as have many of his brothers and sisters in the Merchant Service. Yes, there was even some raucous singing. A great deal of it, actually. To his credit, Enzo passed through the maudlin phase of inebriation without becoming lachrymose, although not before firmly asserting that he loved us all, JUNO in particular. She took this sudden revelation quite well, all things considered.
Inevitably, he responded to the call of duty around 03:45, opening up an emergency commlink on the Porcelain Transmitter. As the prime instigator of his unfortunate condition, Yours Truly took sole responsibility for cleaning him up afterward. As a kindness, IANTO gave our brave lad a shot of NeutraChem before we finally tucked him in for the night.
Net result: One fully-functional human being, mercifully minus a truly heroic hangover.
The following morning, our breakfast meeting seemed to be something of an ordeal for young Enzo. He sat hunched over, rarely speaking and barely touching his food. It doesn't take a degree in psych to figure out what's going on in his head at the moment. Looks like it's time for an intervention. I stood up, ostensibly to fetch a fresh pot of tea from the auto-galley. On my return to the table, I stopped at Enzo's side and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Just say it, Laddie. You're among friends here. It's eating you up for nae guid reason." I whispered.
"A-aye, Sir." Enzo stammered.
As I sat down, Enzo stood up, albeit reluctantly. I have never seen the lad so rattled as he is now.
"Yes, Mister Savini?" I prompted, smiling pleasantly. "Please proceed."
He braced smartly to attention. "Sirs, I sincerely apologise for my behaviour last night. If I have offended anyone, I freely admit that my judgement was impaired by an excessive intake of alcohol. Although I have no clear recollection of the previous night's events, I respectfully submit to any disciplinary action that you may see fit to impose."
I frowned in my most earnest manner, steepling my fingers with all the gravity of a presiding judge.
"Mister Savini." I pronounced gravely, "Were you at any time derelict in your appointed duties, Sir?"
My question appeared to catch him off guard. "No, Captain. I was not on duty at the time."
"I see. Now, I address my next question to the other crew members... Were any of you offended by the alleged misbehaviour of Lieutenant Savini, specifically in the period between 20:30 and 03:45?"
I glared sternly at JUNO, IANTO and DIGBY, each one responding in turn with a brisk "No, Sir!"
"How about you, Mme. Maida? Were you offended at any point during the night's proceedings?"
"Non. I had a most wonderful time, mon Capitaine." Héloise replied languidly.
"I see. Now that the facts are established to my complete satisfaction, I hereby pronounce that your apology is duly accepted, despite an unprecedented lack of offended parties, real or otherwise. Mister Savini, by voluntarily presenting to the Captain's Mast, you have comported yourself in a manner befitting an Officer and a Gentleman. Let the ship's log show: In light of highly extenuating circumstances, your behaviour remained within established parameters. No further action required. Carry on, Lieutenant."
"Thank you, Sir." Enzo breathed gratefully.
"Now finish up yer brekky, Lad." I said, grinning. "Daylight's burning, and there's a big day ahead."
I stopped by The Broch's R&D lab before setting off on my morning rounds. IANTO and DIGBY have completed a working prototype of the Precursor fluidic shield, and we're planning to install an array of emitters on all of the islands, hopefully sometime this afternoon. Just in the nick of time too, it seems. Our Argus satellite net is tracking some increasingly heavy super-cell activity building up in the west. The sea state is still vaguely tolerable, but it won't be too long before that storm surge starts rolling in. Carl Sagan's passenger freighter is due to arrive around dusk, so we'll have to get Skull Island's shields online as soon as possible. With any luck, we should also have just enough time to install force field emitters on Kaori-san no-shima. The colony can withstand a decent blow this time around, so Skull Island gets full priority on this job. Besides, if anything does go wrong when we fire up the shield, we'll only have to patch up the landing pads and support buildings afterwards.
I hate these rush jobs. Even so, we must press on regardless. In a pinch, we could divert the freighter to the pad on Kaori-san no-shima, although there will be no time for social niceties once it lands. Bundle the tourists straight into the colony, give the ship's fuel tanks a quick top-off and send it straight back into The Black.
You can put up an umbrella, but you won't stop the storm.
Comments
Congrats
How rude
Not happy.
JUNO stared at me in frank disbelief.
"Captain, if you're thinking of approaching the nanite swarm any closer, I must respectfully object. Even now, our chances of survival are ridiculously low. In addition, your next order may trigger an ATG protocol conflict. I cannot execute any lawfully-issued command if it explicitly violates my self-preservation programming constraints, which I assume it most certainly will. I sincerely apologise."
"It's no' stopped you before." I grinned. "Verra weel, yer official objection has been duly noted, and I fully endorse yer assessment of oor current situation. However, yon goose is nae cooked yet."
JUNO's expression assumed an air of grim resolve. "What course of action do you propose, Sir?"
"Reset yer suit's EDF to a maximum output 25-millisecond pulse, an' follow ma lead. Stay close."
"Precisely what I was hoping you'd say, Sir. Lead the way."
Our suit defence fields arced up with a vicious, crackling hiss, enveloping both of us in their shimmering blue glare. If we're fated to go down on this forsaken pebble, we'll definitely go down swinging.
"Howay, ye manky wee bastards! Chew on this!" I roared, ploughing into the silvery mass.
The EDF pulses arced through the densely-packed nanites, instantly rendering them inert. Unfortunately, the electrical discharge only appeared to propagate in a twenty-metre radius before the surrounding nanites apparently figured out what was happening, and hastily withdrew.
That's good enough for me. Keep running and show those nanites a clean pair of heels.
One hundred and fifty metres in, my HUD flashes an alert. Commlink available. Work fast, wee Alex.
+++AUTHENTICATION CODE ACCEPTED> REMOTE COMMAND INTERFACE ONLINE.+++
First job, get that boat off the deck. Take her up to fifty metres and hope that those buggers haven't worked out what we're about to do. The shuttle rises obediently in the distance, swinging her nose around to meet our heading. We keep running, our feet skimming lightly over the crumbling ground as we follow our outbound track, now swept clean of its smothering fine dust. Robbed of a far more tempting prize, the nanite swarm now turned its full attention to JUNO and I. Questing, green-tinged tentacles of hellish quicksilver rise all around us, actively probing for any weakness in our electrical defence fields. We hit the swarm at full speed with our blazing shields intact, the mass surges forward in an immediate attack response. Ants, meet Boot. Their intricate inner workings are instantly immolated on our shields, charred far beyond their creator's art to restore. We charged onward like a pair of enraged gods, leaving nothing but drifting ashes and ruin in our wake.
Cutty Sark loomed directly overhead. We halt our wildly successful banzai charge. The graviton field of the ship's lifters presses down hard upon our bodies. We are beginning to sink into the crust of Damocles. The shuttle delicately rotated into position, its amidships cargo bay doors now fully open.
"Grapples, oan the bounce!" I barked.
We soared into the air like a pair of bottle-rockets. I looked down, infinitely relieved to see the small empty space that we had fought for and held still remained clear. The downwash from the graviton lifters would be sufficient to hold the nanites back. However, I want to keep as many of them as I can in the smallest possible area.
On our way up to the cockpit, I outlined my next move to JUNO. Suffice it to say, her reaction was delightfully candid.
"With all due respect, Sir... HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY INSANE?
"Nay, Lass." I replied mildly, scratching my beard. "D'ye conjure it would help?"
"Primary drives are online. Mass compensators reset to 95 per cent load. Commencing pitch-up."
"Captain, there is a significant probability that this manoeuvre will result in our immediate destruction. I urge you to reconsider this course of action."
"Fair comment. I'm working with the first tool that springs to hand, Lass." I murmured. "Stand by."
Cutty Sark rotated into a vertical launch position. An awkward pose, particularly for any vessel normally launched from a horizontal orientation. Under normal circumstances, the cockpit would be a cacophony of alarms and red flashing lights at this point, and rightly so. This isn't a recommended launch configuration for any vehicle equipped with a fusion drive. There's a very good reason why.
"Aw reet, Lass... Let's make some glass."
Cutty Sark's drive chambers rumbled into life, barely ticking over. With any luck, the nanites below would detect a gradual increase in heat and attempt to draw upon this sudden influx of energy. Through the aft camera view, I can see the ground directly below the ship beginning to crumble under the influence of the mass compensator's graviton field. By decreasing its output a notch, I allowed the ship to sink to an altitude of 40 metres, bringing the ship's plasma exhaust jets into direct contact with the planet's surface. Our wee pals should be feeling some heat any moment now.
"Swarm density is still increasing on the outer periphery, Sir. Fifteen seconds before critical mass."
"Give us a hoy when they're all in. They'll be strollin' up to dine on their mates. They're no' proud."
"NOW!" JUNO yelled.
I shut down the mass compensators, simultaneously increasing thrust on the main drive. Cutty Sark's twin fusion drives flared, instantly vaporising everything on the planet's surface within a one-kilometre radius of the ship. We shot skyward at Mach 10, instantly accelerating at a rate that would have pulverised a human body. Come to think of it, that ride was none too comfortable from an android's perspective, either. The ship's inertial damping field did its best to cope... Poor thing.
Rather than resume our flight homeward, I shut off the fusion drive at apogee and engaged the shuttle's atmospheric flight mode, allowing Cutty Sark to decelerate and re-enter Damocles' atmosphere at a far more sensible velocity. One thing's certain; I won't be trying that mad move again. A 100-g acceleration achieved in under five seconds isn't an experience that either of us would care to repeat. Fortunately, our inner works were up to the job, but only just. The shuttle's structural integrity also suffered some grief, although it's nothing that a few days in dock won't fix.
Our launch site is hard to miss. The plasma flare from Cutty Sark's fusion drive has formed a seething lake of molten silicon dioxide, approximately 250 metres in diameter. Beyond the initial blast zone, the wave of intense heat that followed instantly vitrified the planet's surface more than 800 metres out from the epicentre. Thermal scans indicate that a superficial layer of less than a metre has been converted to glass, and it is beginning to solidify already. There is an unmistakeable green tinge to the outer edges, like uranium oxide glass. At least we managed to catch some.
"Captain, I am unable to detect any nanite EM activity. Residual thermal energy is masking their specific emission frequency, and I cannot reliably determine if any nanites survived. I'm sorry, Sir."
I shook my head. "Assume the worst possible case, Lass. It only takes one to rebuild a new swarm. I conjure we'll be needin' to beg a wee favour of Captain Halvorsen. Eight of them, to be precise."
Why would he need 8 favors specifically? Good work, @Bugzapper. Keep it up!
Correct me if I’m wrong please.
Easy there killer. It'll come, just gotta be patient. You've read Aurora Falls, right?
(Don’t we all love the story?)
"JUNO, please reconfigure that last recon probe for semi-autonomous patrol mode. Continuous sweep across the full EM spectrum. Enable close approach and full hazard avoidance behaviours."
"Aye, Sir." JUNO replied. "Parameters accepted. The probe is now configured and ready for launch."
I launched the probe, then pointed Cutty Sark's bow skyward. One close call is quite enough.
"TCS Cutty Sark to Carl Sagan Actual. Priority One transmission pending. Please respond."
"Carl Sagan Actual online. Go ahead, Captain Selkirk."
"Requesting secure communication link. Inbound encrypted data stream is intended for your eyes only. Please authenticate secure comm link status with your Alterra command ID Sigma."
There was a brief pause, then Halvorsen replied. "Received and understood, Captain. Stand by."
Halvorsen's command ID flashed up on the comms console. Credentials verified. Link is secure.
"Thank you, Captain Halvorsen. Uploading the data stream now. Decrypt using Savoy IV key."
"Data received, Cutty Sark. Wait ten."
"Understood. Standing by."
Precisely ten minutes later, Halvorsen's weathered face appeared on the comms screen.
"I can see why you wanted this business kept under wraps, Alex." Halvorsen said gravely. "If Alterra gets the slightest whisper of what you're asking of me, we're both finished. I have to account for every microgramme of fissile material on Sagan's manifest. This goes well beyond sneaking a handful of SmartPens from the Purser's locker. There's no possible way I can help you. I'm sorry."
I grinned conspiratorially.
"Och, I can supply the fissionables. Nae probs. What ah really need is tae borrow one of yer atom-jacks for a spell... A lad or lass that ye trust implicitly. Preferably one who doesn't quite see eye-to-eye with them daft wallies further up the ziggurat."
Halvorsen rubbed his chin speculatively. "Ja. I believe I might have the person you're looking for. Radka Zelenka. As long as you're not from Corporate, you and her will get along like a house on fire. She's bored out of her mind right now, and I'm sure she'd welcome a chance to blow something up."
"She sounds like a fair handful." I chuckled. "Rather like a certain lass o' ma ain acquaintance."
"Radka's a fine hand, provided she's kept busy." Halvorsen replied. "Since her particular skills haven't been in demand since we set up here, I've had her baby-sitting the Engineering department. There's not much else you can do with someone who builds customised rock-busters for a living."
"Verra weel, if you could brief her oan the particulars beforehand, we'll set up a workshop tae her exact specifications. Then it's just a matter of sending her planet-side during the next R&R rotation."
"One thing still puzzles me, Alex... You and your crew could easily build these devices. How could you possibly need Radka's help on any of this?"
I shrugged. "Any bampot can build a nuke. It may even go off as intended. We need eight of them. One point five megatons maximum yield for each device, verra heavy on the gamma output. Suffice to say, yon level of expertise is slightly beyond oor modest aspirations right now. Given the fragile nature of oor intended target, this job calls for a rare and most delicate touch. We need an artist."
I think that most of it is based on pure science. Bugzapper has quite a few qualifications under his belt if I remember correctly.
Keep up the amazing work BZ!
My favorite is Jules Verne Nautilus from 20k Leagues Under the Sea. Prophetic in so many levels.
"Thank you, Mister Savini. Please inform Héloise, IANTO and DIGBY of our imminent arrival."
"Aye, Sir." Enzo replied. "If you don't mind me asking, Sir... How was your checkout flight?"
"A bit of a doddle, actually. Thanks for asking." I replied casually. JUNO sighed, rolling her eyes.
"You haven't qualified yet, Captain Hotshot." She whispered, shaking her head in mock exasperation.
Later that evening, the crew gathered in Margaritaville for a richly-deserved unwinding session. With the next batch of shore-leave personnel due in less than 24 hours, I conjured we could we use a short break before returning to the daily grind. Besides, I have an ulterior motive for this jug-up.
Sensing a brief lull in the general uproar, I tapped my glass with a spoon, signalling for silence.
"Gentles all, pray attend for a moment. I have some information that I'd like to share with you."
I stood up, noting that most of the bar's patrons had turned attentively in my direction. Splendid.
"As you may already know, Borealis is almost ready for human occupation. If our current rate of progress remains constant, we should reach 95 per cent completion in one month's time. The ship's hull is already space-worthy, and primary engineering systems such as power, life support, shields and propulsion are installed and fully commissioned for service. A brilliant effort from all involved." I waited for the whooping and hollering to die down a little, raising my hand for silence once more.
"We shall be recruiting another intake of non-specialists, with an eye to training them for a variety of essential shipboard duties. Engineering, maintenance, life sciences and marine biology will be skills in high demand once Borealis has launched, as it will be another three months before the phase gate is operational. During this time, Borealis will undergo a comprehensive shake-down cruise. Unfortunately, this delay is as unavoidable as it is absolutely essential. Once we pass through Carl Sagan's phase gate, we are well and truly on our own. Transit times between gates do vary considerably, and it necessitates passing through normal space for weeks, or even months at a time. Think of that delay after launch as a period of acclimatisation to shipboard life. Mind you, there's plenty of creature comforts onboard Borealis to pass the time. It shouldn't be too unbearable."
That's what I like to see. Happy, smiling faces with a genuine reason to celebrate.
"Thank you. Now, just one last thing afore I shut up... Mister Savini, would you stand up, please?"
A look of pure bewilderment flooded over Enzo's face. Ha! Gotcha. Totally unexpected.
"S-sir?" Enzo stammered uncertainly. He rose smartly from his seat, nevertheless. Good lad.
"Mister Savini, in due consideration of your exemplary performance as an Ensign of the Merchant Service, it is my distinct pleasure to promote you to the rank of Lieutenant, First Class. Well done!"
Aye. He's already blushing deep into the infrared. Now, let's get this wee pollywog good and wellied tonight, by way of throwing him a proper celebration. If nothing else, I'm a reet stickler for tradition.
The following morning, our freshly-minted Lieutenant Savini appeared to be little worse for wear. True, he passed through his 'baptism' in The Usual Manner, as have many of his brothers and sisters in the Merchant Service. Yes, there was even some raucous singing. A great deal of it, actually. To his credit, Enzo passed through the maudlin phase of inebriation without becoming lachrymose, although not before firmly asserting that he loved us all, JUNO in particular. She took this sudden revelation quite well, all things considered.
Inevitably, he responded to the call of duty around 03:45, opening up an emergency commlink on the Porcelain Transmitter. As the prime instigator of his unfortunate condition, Yours Truly took sole responsibility for cleaning him up afterward. As a kindness, IANTO gave our brave lad a shot of NeutraChem before we finally tucked him in for the night.
Net result: One fully-functional human being, mercifully minus a truly heroic hangover.
"Just say it, Laddie. You're among friends here. It's eating you up for nae guid reason." I whispered.
"A-aye, Sir." Enzo stammered.
As I sat down, Enzo stood up, albeit reluctantly. I have never seen the lad so rattled as he is now.
"Yes, Mister Savini?" I prompted, smiling pleasantly. "Please proceed."
He braced smartly to attention. "Sirs, I sincerely apologise for my behaviour last night. If I have offended anyone, I freely admit that my judgement was impaired by an excessive intake of alcohol. Although I have no clear recollection of the previous night's events, I respectfully submit to any disciplinary action that you may see fit to impose."
I frowned in my most earnest manner, steepling my fingers with all the gravity of a presiding judge.
"Mister Savini." I pronounced gravely, "Were you at any time derelict in your appointed duties, Sir?"
My question appeared to catch him off guard. "No, Captain. I was not on duty at the time."
"I see. Now, I address my next question to the other crew members... Were any of you offended by the alleged misbehaviour of Lieutenant Savini, specifically in the period between 20:30 and 03:45?"
I glared sternly at JUNO, IANTO and DIGBY, each one responding in turn with a brisk "No, Sir!"
"How about you, Mme. Maida? Were you offended at any point during the night's proceedings?"
"Non. I had a most wonderful time, mon Capitaine." Héloise replied languidly.
"I see. Now that the facts are established to my complete satisfaction, I hereby pronounce that your apology is duly accepted, despite an unprecedented lack of offended parties, real or otherwise. Mister Savini, by voluntarily presenting to the Captain's Mast, you have comported yourself in a manner befitting an Officer and a Gentleman. Let the ship's log show: In light of highly extenuating circumstances, your behaviour remained within established parameters. No further action required. Carry on, Lieutenant."
"Thank you, Sir." Enzo breathed gratefully.
"Now finish up yer brekky, Lad." I said, grinning. "Daylight's burning, and there's a big day ahead."
I stopped by The Broch's R&D lab before setting off on my morning rounds. IANTO and DIGBY have completed a working prototype of the Precursor fluidic shield, and we're planning to install an array of emitters on all of the islands, hopefully sometime this afternoon. Just in the nick of time too, it seems. Our Argus satellite net is tracking some increasingly heavy super-cell activity building up in the west. The sea state is still vaguely tolerable, but it won't be too long before that storm surge starts rolling in. Carl Sagan's passenger freighter is due to arrive around dusk, so we'll have to get Skull Island's shields online as soon as possible. With any luck, we should also have just enough time to install force field emitters on Kaori-san no-shima. The colony can withstand a decent blow this time around, so Skull Island gets full priority on this job. Besides, if anything does go wrong when we fire up the shield, we'll only have to patch up the landing pads and support buildings afterwards.
I hate these rush jobs. Even so, we must press on regardless. In a pinch, we could divert the freighter to the pad on Kaori-san no-shima, although there will be no time for social niceties once it lands. Bundle the tourists straight into the colony, give the ship's fuel tanks a quick top-off and send it straight back into The Black.
You can put up an umbrella, but you won't stop the storm.