by Mike Hartman
“I hope everyone enjoyed their week off and has had time to recover from the shock of losing our dear friend Dr. Bowles.” She looked around the table. She had everyone’s complete attention.
“We will continue our little project along the same course we have been navigating up to this point. We’ve made great progress and I’m excited about the future prospects of our research.”
“Gabe, give me a report of where you stand.”
Gabe answered confidently, “The mechanical systems are essentially complete. We are still tweaking things here and there, but we’ve pretty much honed in on the appropriate design for the physical structure. Of the five prototype models, three of them have one design and the other two units have been altered just slightly. One has a slightly sharper curvature to the feet that allows it to get a better grip on hair follicles and the other has an experimental servo that seems to be giving us a smoother movement of the extremities. I plan to make a sixth prototype that incorporates both of these modifications into the same unit.”
“Thanks Gabe,” said Sally. “Jamie, how about you? Where do we stand concerning the electronics?”
Jamie was ready with his answer, “There is still a lot of room for experimentation with the circuits. I’ve installed a different microprocessor in each of the five prototypes. The one with the fastest processing speed delivers crisper information, but it tends to be hard on the batteries. It’s only good for about 45 minutes. Since it takes about 30 minutes to produce the nerve connection harness, this only leaves about 15 minutes for data collection. That’s assuming the tick is already placed on location on the host. If it had to travel any distance at all, the battery would likely die before we collected any data at all. The model with the longest battery life will last for about 90 minutes. Although this is substantially more time, it is still a very limiting factor. Also, this model has processor performance that pales in comparison.”
Sally moved on around the table. “How about you Jillian?”
Jillian answered, “We’ve had good results with our current testing. The reversinal responds quite nicely when modulated at 20 kilohertz. The nerve connection harness grows readily in about 30 minutes and the spinal tap has been spot on perfect in 97% of our tests. I am experimenting with various doping agents in attempt to improve the growth rate and accuracy. Our five volunteer chimpanzees are doing well. So far I haven’t observed any negative effects on them pertaining to the experiments.”
“Thanks Jillian.” Sally gave her a slight smile. “How about you Monica?”
Monica thought hard before she answered. “I’m not really sure how to answer,” she began. “We have reached the point where we can capture the vision of the host in clear, crisp detail. In that sense my programming is a success. However, I’m continually cleaning up the program to run more efficiently and require fewer lines of code. This plays directly into processing speed and battery life. I’m planning to start decoding data to capture audio next. I’m trying not to rush into this next step because I really think there is benefit to perfecting the program at this waypoint before moving on. By cutting out the fat now, we will open up new possibilities down the road.”
“Dan?” Sally prodded.
“Everything is running smooth from my end,” Dan was quick to respond. “Our sister companies are performing well. JLS Technologies is living up to its name. They live and breathe Just a Little Smaller. They have really pulled through in producing some of Gabe’s designs. The trick is subbing out the pieces of the project so nobody realizes what they are producing. So far, so good. Our people at Microtek have been phenomenal in manufacturing the microprocessors that Jamie has designed. They have also developed some pretty clever products for playing back the information collected by the tick.”
“What about you Ed?” Sally asked. “How do you see the project coming along?”
Ed responded with his usual air of importance. “I think the project is progressing nicely. As far as I’m concerned we are ready to begin testing on humans.”
There was a subdued reaction from everyone at the table. They had heard this line from Ed several times now and they were getting tired of dealing with his eagerness. They all knew the day would come when they would test the tick on humans, but nobody else at the table thought they were anywhere close to that point yet. Sally said, “What makes you think we are ready to begin testing on humans?”
“Well,” Ed went on, “We’ve had great successes in our testing with our friendly chimps. We know pretty much what to expect in our tests with them and we are receiving some pretty consistent results. It’s only logical that our next step will involve testing on humans. We are going to have to do it some time or another. Might as well be now.”
“Are you volunteering?” asked Sally with a raised eyebrow.
Ed looked a bit uncomfortable. “Err, no.” he said. “I was thinking we could conduct tests on someone a little more, how shall I say it, expendable. Perhaps a homeless person or a drug addict. It’s amazing what they will do for 20 bucks!”
“That hardly seems ethical,” said Dan. Where do we get the right to infringe upon another person’s rights like that?”
Jamie jumped in. “I’ve been wondering about that myself. Who do we intend to use this on when it is fully developed? There are a lot of ethical questions running through my mind. Who could we possibly sell this technology to? I can think of a million reasons someone would want to use this technology and they are all bad.”
Ed snapped back. “You can’t be thinking like that Jamie. Our job is to develop the technology, not to worry about its use. That is for someone else to worry about. You can bet your boots there will be plenty of government oversight once we go public with this. The ethics are for others to worry about. We need to test this thing on humans to speed along our development. Every day we wait just opens the door a little bit wider for our competitors to steal our ideas. We all know this is a game that involves a race to the finish.”
Sally could see the situation was slipping out of control. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. This isn’t the right time to be having this conversation. It’s our first day back and we need to get started on the right track. This conversation needs to be tabled for a later date.”
“So, welcome back everyone. Let’s get busy. We’ve all got work to do.” With that, Sally got up and walked out of the conference room.
Monica and Jillian stole a look at each other. How quickly Sally had changed since their conversation about ethics at her house last week. She seemed to have gained a confidence and a direction. This took them both off guard, but they kept quiet. Everyone made their way out of the conference room and headed off to work.
**********
Later that morning Monica and Jillian stole their way into Sally’s office and closed the door. Sally looked up from her desk expectantly, but didn’t say anything.
Jillian broke the silence. “We were a bit surprised at your newfound sense of confidence and direction. We were under the impression you were a bit confused about what we’re doing here and what direction we should be going. What gives?”
“Well,” answered Sally matter of factly. “I’m no longer confused. I’ve got the situation figured out and I now understand what we are doing and why we are doing it.”
Now it was Monica and Jillian who looked expectantly at Sally. When she didn’t say anything else Monica said, “And where did you gain this newfound clarity?”
Sally looked at them for a moment as if trying to figure out if she should say what was going through her mind. After a thoughtful moment she said, “A few days ago I received a visit from our client.”
Chapter 35
July, year 3.
The water was choppy and Mickey felt a bit ill. The tug boat chopped and rocked through the water in a rhythmic pattern that did not agree with his stomach. His nerves didn’t help the situati
on any. After more than two years of preparation and training, he was finally on his way to meet his submarine for the very first time. The Henry M. Jackson, SSBN 730 had left its homeport in Bangor, Washington seven days earlier. These first several days out were generally spent undergoing angles and dangles. Steep turns, deep dives, emergency drills...all of the various maneuvers to ensure the boat was ready for the next three months underwater. It was a form of a test drive. Rather than returning to port to pick up Mickey, the tug was delivering him to the sub which was just off the coast of Washington at the moment.
There was a thick fog as Mickey attempted to look out across the water. Visibility was poor and he wondered how the tug boat captain knew where he was going. Out of nowhere a coastguard cutter appeared behind the tug. One of the crew on the tug told him the cutter was there to make sure the tugboat was a legitimate vessel to be approaching the submarine. As he watched, another ship materialized out of the fog. He saw a man in the bow of the ship dressed in a flack jacket and helmet manning a 50 caliber machine gun. Mickey was beginning to get the idea this was serious stuff.
Then he saw it for the first time. Out of the haze the dark form of the submarine appeared riding sleek in the water. There were several men standing on the deck of the sub. They wore various colored vests and they were all attached to the boat with ropes clipped to harnesses. A diver stood by on the deck wearing a full dry suit just in case anyone fell overboard. He was also attached to the deck via a rope and harness. Mickey noticed a knife in a sheath attached to his ankle.
Neither the submarine nor the tug stopped. They both kept moving at about five knots in the same direction. The tug pulled up along the starboard side and matched the speed of the submarine.
Mickey had his sea-bag with him containing all his uniforms and personal items. He began to wonder how he was going to get from the tug to the submarine. He didn’t have to wonder for long.
A sailor attached a rope ladder to the sub and allowed it to drape over the side of the submarine’s hull. The sailor climbed down the ladder to the height of the tugboat and hooked an arm through one of the rope rungs. With the other arm he motioned for Mickey to come to him.
Mickey thought surely this must be a joke. Did this guy really think he was going to make a jump for it? As he pondered the situation, one of the crew from the tugboat picked up his sea-bag and tossed it across the gap to a sailor on the sub. The submarine was much steadier in the water due to its size. The tug, on the other hand, was bobbing up and down. Mickey judged when the tug was at just the right height and reached out for the man on the rope ladder. The man caught him and pulled him over to the ladder. The two of them climbed up on the deck of the sub and he was quickly ushered to a hatch with a vertical ladder leading down into the bowels of the submarine.
Mickey was thoroughly overwhelmed and disoriented as he reached the bottom of the ladder. The man standing in front of him introduced himself as the Chief of the Boat and assigned Mickey to a sailor standing along with them. The Chief of the Boat told Mickey, “Petty Officer Smith will show you to your rack and then give you a tour of the boat. Welcome aboard Petty Officer McCoskey.” With that the Chief turned and walked away down a narrow passageway.
“Call me Smitty,” said Petty Officer Smith as he took Mickey to the 2nd deck of the missile compartment. Walking down the aisle between the missile tubes, Mickey was in awe. These things were absolutely huge! He counted twelve large tubes on one side of the aisle and twelve on the other side. In between each set of missile tubes were racks tucked in the nooks outboard of the missile tubes. Rack was the term the navy used for beds. They really didn’t qualify as a bed anyway. Only 6 feet long and 2 ½ feet deep, they were more like a coffin. The racks were stacked three high and each had a set of curtains a person could pull shut to block out light from the outside and provide a little privacy. Mickey stowed his sea-bag in the rack and they set out on a tour of the boat.
Since they were standing there in the missile compartment smack dab in the middle of the 24 missile tubes, Mickey wanted to know all about them.
“We call this the Sherwood Forrest,” said Smitty. He started feeding him information. “Each of our 24 trident missiles cost $30 million dollars. They are 44 feet long, 83 inches in diameter, and weigh a whopping 130,000 pounds each! We can attack targets as far away as 4,600 miles. We launch while submerged at periscope depth and the three stage solid propellant engines quickly accelerate the missile to 18,000 mph shooting it into space 200 miles above the earth’s surface. Each missile carries up to eight nuclear warheads that can be programmed to attack eight individual targets. Each of those eight warheads packs a punch to the tune of 3.8 megatons of explosive power!”
“Holy crap!” said Mickey.
Smitty went on, “There are 14 Ohio Class SSBN’s in the fleet and between them we house 50% of the United States’ nuclear arsenal. Our job is to deter other countries from launching a nuclear attack on the United States. We can’t stop them from launching an attack, but they can rest assured that 50% of the United States nuclear firepower will survive their attack and promptly annihilate their country as payback.”
They headed up to the control room. Because Mickey was new, he was allowed to watch as they prepared to dive. While he looked on, the Chief of the Watch raised the periscope. As it came up through the deck from below, the chief folded down the handles and peered through the lens saying, “Officer of the Deck, the number 1 periscope is fully raised.”
“Very well Chief of the Watch,” responded the Officer of the Deck.
The captain gave the order, “Submerge the ship. Proceed to one-eight-zero feet.”
The order was repeated by the Dive Officer, “Submerge the ship. Proceed to one-eight-zero feet, aye sir.”
A sailor spoke into the ships 1MC, the general announcement system that transmits throughout the boat. He said, “Dive, dive.” He then pressed a button on the control console that sounded the dive alarm twice. Again he announced over the 1MC, “Dive, dive.” Manipulating a few controls on his console he announced to the control room, “All vents open.”
With the vents opened, 2,300 gallons of seawater entered the ballast tanks causing the submarine to lose buoyancy and dive.
As the submarine began to submerge another watch-stander called out the depth as it changed, “three-nine, four-O, four-one, four-two, four-three.” This continued on until a short time later he said, “six-zero feet sir.” The pace picked up, “six-one, six-two, six-three.”
The water had now reached the top of the mast. “Seven-zero feet sir.” The pace continued to pick up, “seven-two, seven-four, seven-six.”
The sub had now slipped completely below the surface and the pressure on its hull began to increase rapidly. For every 100 feet the submarine descended, the pressure exerted by the seawater increased by three times atmospheric pressure.
Smitty had Mickey follow him forward to the sonar room. There were four men sitting at consoles wearing headphones and looking at waterfall arrays. Behind them a chief stood monitoring their status.
One of the sonar operators began speaking and pushing buttons. He said, “I have a contact bearing three-five-three, designate Sierra five, first confirmation submerged contact.”
Another man said into his sound-powered phones, “Con, Sonar, Contact bearing three-five-three, submerged contact.”
Smitty introduced Mickey to the Chief monitoring the sonar operators. The chief said, “Basically what you have here is a display screen we call a waterfall array. Every dot or blip on the screen represents some type of sound in the ocean. From this information we can identify contacts. After tracking one of these contacts we can calculate its course, speed, and range. Anything we might need to shoot a weapon or to track it accurately. We can also identify the class of any surface ship or submarine by the sound of its propellers. If another ship comes too close, we will go on immediate alert.”
Smitty took Mickey forward one more compartment to see the radio room. Again he met the man in charge of the radio room and got a briefing on what their function was.
As he was looking around the radio room an announcement came over the 1MC, “Quick quiet, quick quiet.”
Smitty quickly guided Mickey out of the radio room and took him to the berthing area in the missile compartment where his rack was located. As they proceeded to the berthing area, Mickey saw people scurrying in all directions flipping switches and turning off unnecessary equipment so only the essential systems remained running. Arriving in the berthing compartment on the 02 level in the missile compartment Smitty told Mickey, “Get in your rack and stay there until I come get you. Don’t make any noise.” With that Petty Officer Smith left to take care of his duties.
Two and a half hours later the 1MC announced, “Secure from quick quiet.” About five minutes after the announcement, Smitty returned to retrieve Mickey and finish showing him around the boat.
Smitty showed him the head. “There are some important things you need to know about the crappers in the head,” he said. “When we flush the crapper, it goes into the CHT tank. At opportune times we use pumps to pump the shit overboard. Because we don’t like to pump overboard any more often than necessary, we limit how much shit we put in the tanks in the first place. So learn to live by this rule: If it’s yellow, let it be mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down. We don’t flush when we just take a piss.”
Mickey thought this must really stink after awhile, but he could play along.
“Another thing,” said Smitty. “Half the time the CHT pump doesn’t work. The backup method to empty the tank overboard is to pressurize the tank. If you flush the commode when the tank is pressurized, it will force shit back up through the crapper at high pressure and you will get an instant shit shower! You’ve been warned.”
