Rescue Branch (Kinsella Universe)

by Gina Marie Wylie

  The second meeting was as different from the first as night and day. “Monday is fine,” the new French inquiry president told them. “President Sarkozy has asked me to share our own findings regarding the accident with you. They outline our case against Lieutenant Cooper.” He slid a substantial stack of paper towards Admiral Delgado. Admiral Kinsella intercepted it and started leafing through it.

  Admiral Delgado and the French team spent some time talking about procedures. After about a half hour, the French pled fatigue, and Admiral Delgado turned to Admiral Kinsella. “Do you have anything to add, Admiral Kinsella?”

  “I’m tempted to say nothing. But that’s the equivalent of stealing candy from a baby.” She tapped the French report. “I do not know if you showed this to a competent nuclear engineer -- certainly you didn’t show it to one not beholden to your government.

  “Trust me on this. Talk to your President. Get this report in front of someone who is willing to speak the truth. Because if you bring this in front of the inquiry Monday, I’ll see that France is crucified.”

  “Are you a competent nuclear engineer?” the man said, clearly angry.

  “I am a competent physicist. Do you think I recommended a naval nuclear reactor for Ad Astra without doing due diligence? Do you think I am ignorant of the technical questions that have been raised over the years about the nature and composition of nuclear fuels? About reactor and safety system designs? We can bring in technical experts from any country -- except perhaps France -- who will look at this report and condemn those who had any part of the decisions undertaken in this matter. The Russians, the Chinese, the Japanese, the Indians -- not noted American partisans. Their experts will look at this report and will be appalled and disgusted. They will all say the same thing: the is no way to be sure what happened to the French vessel Miracle at Orleans, but it was surely doomed, one way or another.”

  “And you’re positive?”

  “Sir, the laws of physics are just as reliable as the laws of motion. You loaded a naval nuclear reactor with MOX fuel, in the ratio of 75-25 94% HEU uranium to plutonium mixture. MOX is shorthand for ‘mixed oxide,’ a combination of uranium and plutonium.”

  Commander Jacobsen let out an expletive and Becky put her head on the table. This had been a final exam question in her reactor design theory class. It should have been inconceivable.

  Lieutenant Biederman spoke quietly. “I assume that was a bad choice.”

  Commander Jacobsen regarded him levelly. “It’s a fact of life. Uranium atoms fission and produce three high-speed neutrons... after they absorb one. That three for one production is why nuclear fission works. There is a multiplication factor for each isotope of a radioactive element. If it’s more than one, it’s a fissile or fissionable isotope. Fissile isotopes provide controllable energy -- fissionable elements have the potential to go bang.

  “To make a complicated story short, the most common plutonium isotope needs to absorb three neutrons before undergoing fission. It’s a fissile material -- it won’t go bang, without some help. It’s true naval nuclear reactors run with highly enriched uranium and they are designed to heavily tamp down the fission rate.

  “The thing is, reactors are designed with certain expected operational parameters. MOX fuel in a such a reactor would have caused control issues -- probably severe control issues.

  “Plutonium fission releases more heat, causing the water used for cooling to heat more than expected. In a pressurized water reactor like a naval reactor, extra heat isn’t good. And to get the plutonium to fission, you’d need extra neutrons -- you can do that with the proper design, but without the right design -- well, lets just say that highly enriched uranium doesn’t play well in an environment with extra neutrons running around. Too many neutrons could cause the reactor to go critical. There’s no way to tell what actually happened since the ship was lost... but that reactor, loaded like that, was an accident waiting to happen.”

  In the meeting Admiral Kinsella was making essentially the same explanation to Admiral Delgado and the French representatives. Admiral Delgado turned to the French. “Admiral Kinsella explained this to you. I’ll check her conclusions, but I’m sure she’s correct. I suggest you check as well, as Admiral Kinsella recommended. You may have a rough go of it Monday morning, otherwise.”

  Monday rolled around and the French “prosecutor” went over the information and data the Miracle at Orleans had sent in their final days. A Japanese power engineer testified that in his opinion the work had been hastily done, the reactor tests had shown great instabilities, and the ship should never have tried to use the reactor without an extensive engineering review to isolate and correct the problems. A half dozen examples of badly done work were offered up to demonstrate what was meant.

  A Chinese expert in nuclear propulsion was called and decried the possible ill effects of using MOX instead of the HEU fuel the reactor was designed for. Commander Jacobsen, when it was her turn, read into the record a number of items from the French investigation, among them, where the captain of the Miracle at Orleans requested permission to return on High Fan, because he wasn’t sure how stable the reactor was, and the decision, solely in the province of the French government to approve... and the granting of that permission... without any technical consultation.

  Accusations of mass murder were never uttered, and Becky’s testimony was fifteen minutes of summarizing her reports on the work she’d supervised. Chief Pettigrew was called and he confirmed the reports and the final result was that the Inquiry Board debated two hours and decided that the entire fault could safely be laid on Captain Reynard.

  Becky thought it was terribly unfair but everyone else told her to be content. Admiral Kinsella invited her to dinner on Friday evening and was even more emphatic.

  “You know my opinion on this. It is the duty of a responsible officer never to let an order like this be carried out. Reynard either didn’t object hard enough, or his crew didn’t. The order may not have even originated from Reynard, but the fact remains he ordered the return under High Fan with a dodgy reactor. His power crew had to have known it was a grave risk. As I said long ago -- they should have called for a tow, even if it meant having to pay an exorbitant fee.” She laughed nastily. “I had Admiral Delgado send the President of France our fee schedule for such things.

  “A full contributor to the Fleet would have received a tow gratis. The probationary members and those that have signed a letter of intent to join would have been charged a nominal amount. Even morons like the French would have been charged a fraction of what a commercial tow would have cost.”

  She grinned. “The latter is self-defense. A lot of the tows break down and we have to rescue them, and then we’re duty bound to rescue their tow as well.”

  She lifted a tea glass and toasted Becky. “And, I understand, you are coming to the awareness that there are a lot more things under the sun than you previously suspected.”

  “Yes, Steph.”

  “You’ll be going to Ceres Sunday, for a five day stay. Keep your eyes open and your ears to the ground. You’re not a spy, you are just an observer. Do what you’re told and nothing else. You’ve talked to the people at Psyche, at the Aft Trojans and you’re a little better acquainted on the economics of off-world installations.”

  “Yes, Steph. It’s a dimension I never thought about before, but even at my level of understanding, I realize how important the issues are.”

  Stephanie Kinsella reached down and pulled a book off the floor, one that Becky had had no idea was there.

  “I’ve long respected Eagle, from the first time he emailed me, asking for a freebie student license for a fan. I got to know him, and then I met Kat. Eagle is a genius; there is no good word to describe Kat. A polymath genius. A year ago she finished writing this book and had it published privately.”

  Admiral Kinsella grinned. “I was a little hyperbolic when I blurbed it -- I described her as the leading economist of our generation -- she is tha
t and on track to win the economics Nobel in a year or two. She has a chance, I believe.

  “I won’t regale you with the chicanery I used to score her a doctorate in Economics from Caltech -- but she used this book as the basis for her thesis. Read it. Pay attention to it. It’s a comparison between ‘colonial economics’ -- as practiced by the British in the US, Canada, Australia and India, and ‘colonial economics’ as the Federation is predicated on.

  “It’s a tour de force, describing the economic trajectory of human civilization over the next several hundred years if we follow the Federation’s path -- as opposed to the original path of the old world colonies. It’s already caused a storm of protest, the protests having in common the phrase, ‘we feel’ to preface the arguments against.

  “Economic modeling has been too long a voodoo science, with too many ‘fudge factors’ intrinsic to the logic, leading the model to predict economies that will perform according to the modeler’s preconceptions and that fail to predict given conditions at say, the turn of the century, actually any century, and don’t successfully predict any result other than the modeler’s favorite outcome.

  “Kat’s book is going to be an important reference, I believe, for a long time to come. Take what you’ve already learned, take what you pick up from her book -- I’ve read it three times -- and match it with what you see at Ceres. I’d be interested to hear your observations on your return. I suspect Admiral Delgado would as well.”

  “I will, Steph.”

  “You’re unhappy with what I’m doing for you and Anna.”

  That threw Becky.

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  “All your life, you’ve been told nepotism is bad. Actually the classic definition is ‘favoritism shown to relatives’ and neither you nor Anna is a relative. Kindred spirits, perhaps, but not blood relatives.”

  “Like I said, I don’t know what to think. I’ve been told you help people who are competent -- and that’s all you do.”

  The admiral grinned. “I don’t know which of my fans said that... I suspect who, but I don’t know. There are a couple of good candidates. I call it nepotism. The military is famous for this -- you get an aide you like, and you look out for his or her career. You make sure they don’t get mishandled by the bureaucracy. Most flag officers have a couple like that, and usually one they particularly favor.

  “I’m catholic. Actually, a lapsed Methodist, but that doesn’t preclude me from being catholic with a small ‘c.’

  “There are not enough competent people in space. I encourage those that I identify, and yes, I go the extra mile for some. I freely admit that I’m hoping the practice continues for senior officers who mentor and help juniors deserving of it. It will be like a giant filter. The further in the future it continues, if it’s the able officers protected, they will predominate. If they predominate, the fewer clowns there will be to mess things up. Eventually -- no more clowns!”

  “Steph, can I speak freely?”

  “If you couldn’t we’d be admiral and lieutenant, not Steph and Becky.”

  “Isn’t that a little arrogant?”

  “Not really... at least not like I expect you mean. I’m not the one going to be picking more than a few officers -- that will fall to others. Odds are, they’d have done the same thing anyway. I wish to start a tradition of competence in the Fleet. I don’t think that’s arrogance. Captain Gilly thinks I’m more guilty of wishful thinking. Predicting conditions, five, ten, fifty, five hundred years down the line? I think that’s presumptuousness, not arrogance.

  “A couple of decades ago, Giuliani of New York sought to take the city back from the brink. He told the police to enforce even the most minor laws -- the laws against vandalism, littering -- anything that lowered the quality of life in the city. That worked, much to the surprise of nearly everyone. Presumption, Becky, is thinking you can turn a city around by enforcing vandalism laws. Busting litterers and getting the garbage men to do their jobs.

  “Pride, Becky -- giving people pride in what they’re doing -- that’s an enormous thing.

  “Nobody thinks survival in space is easy. There’s nothing wrong, at least in my opinion, in recognizing the people who do it well. You, Becky, you’re my favorite at the moment. You do it well. You stay cool, you stay focused, and you get the job done -- even if it’s no big in the great scheme of things. To you it’s important and you concentrate on getting it done right.

  “Captain Reynard complained about you several times; any of those complaints tended to absolve you in the recent unpleasantness. He complained that you relied too much on Chief Pettigrew, and only rarely conducted personal inspections.”

  “I reviewed all the data.”

  “I know that, you know that... everyone on God’s green Earth with an IQ of more than 80 knows you did. It was Chief Pettigrew’s duty to be Johnny-on-the-spot. He supervised data collection, and everyone agrees he did a splendid job. Your job was to supervise the work -- you did. If there was a problem, you were all over it, until it was fixed -- and then you double and triple checked until it was right. Reynard was pulling out his hair about your ‘intransigence.’

  “Even the French acknowledge that you did nothing more than supervise the support construction. You were hardly even there for a moment longer than necessary to check the work. The reactor was sealed when you left, just as it had been when it arrived. There was never a possibility the French accusations were anything but baloney sauce.

  “We’ll likely never know the truth of it -- whether Reynard was so anxious to get home in a hurry, or whether he was told by someone senior in the government to stop the PR bleed and get home as fast as possible. Reynard isn’t talking, and no one in the government is going to own up to giving the order that killed a couple of hundred of their own people.

  “Concentrate on one thing, Becky. Doing your best. That’s all I ask; that’s all anyone asks. I’m very sure you and Anna fit together like fingers in a glove. You can make each other very happy, very complete. Being competent is something you both excel at -- there is nothing wrong with using some of that competence to make a relationship work.”

  Chapter 10 -- Sighted Ceres Sinking

  Sunday morning Becky was aboard another shuttle, this time not travelling with just a pilot. There was her shadow, who was a pleasant enough person, plus five other young officers who were to “observe.”

  “Aren’t you excited, Lieutenant?” Lieutenant Abbott asked.

  “A little scared, not so much excited,” she admitted.

  “Scared? You?”

  “We are going to the most dangerous habitat in the system. They average two fatalities every week. We’ll be sleeping aboard the shuttle... don’t even think about accepting the hospitality of the habitat.”

  He swallowed. Becky lifted her voice.

  “Has anyone studied Ceres?” she asked the others, ensigns and junior lieutenants. There was a chorus of “No, sirs!”

  “Don’t ever do this again. Tomorrow I’ll schedule a two-hour lunch. For the first hour we’ll eat, the second hour will be an exam on Ceres. If you don’t pass -- you’ll be relieved.”

  There was an intake of breath. “Look, it sounds like I’m being a bad ass. I am. Do you understand that Ceres is the most dangerous habitat in the solar system? You don’t have the least idea what to expect. Don’t ever go this unprepared again, unless it’s a ‘no notice’ exercise or drill. Then ask around and see what others know.

  “Ceres was colonized by India. They haven’t joined the Federation, nor have they signed a letter of intent. Officially, we’re to help them. Unofficially, we’re to help them as much as possible, as the feeling is that they might change their mind about their intentions if given a good reason -- like bringing down that ruinous death toll.

  “There are more than a billion people on the Indian subcontinent. They look upon people as a ‘renewable resource.’ If they lose some, eh? So what? There’s a billion more waiting back home, and a
thousand times more than are lost are born every few minutes.

  “They have a tradition of learning and scholarship; however their leadership is corrupt and rotten with patronage. The crew of the Miracle at Orleans was killed by either a captain in a hurry to get home -- the hell with the risk -- or a politician who didn’t understand the risks. A very senior officer once told me that you are being paid for your judgment. Don’t let yourself -- and others -- be wasted by a stupid order from a moron. So what if you’re cashiered? You’ll be alive. So will your brother officers and the enlisted men and women you are responsible for.

  “Yeah, you don’t want to be cavalier about it. You want to use your best judgment. I can’t tell you that if you buck a senior officer, or, God forbid, a politician, that you’ll come out okay. They are paid for their best judgment as well. It’s all about judgment.

  “And right now you are demonstrating its lack. Ignorance in space is the biggest killer. Tattoo that on your palms. Sear it into your psyches. Learning is everything. You can’t stop learning and you can’t learn too much. You can’t practice too much. You can’t pay too much attention to details.

  “There’s a lot to learn. You might think I’m a guru about this -- the guy who is in charge at the Aft Trojans has been there for more than two years. He figures he has another year or so before he’ll stop waking up each morning surprised he’s alive. I’m willing to bet that he stays careful even after that, though!”

  She looked around. “Ceres is just barely sizeable enough to be called a minor planet. There’s been a debate for a couple of decades now about ‘What’s a planet?’ The consensus is that if it’s a body naturally rounded, or a least close, it’s a minor planet. I’m sure an astrophysicist has a quick answer to why most asteroids are potato-shaped -- but most asteroids are potato-shaped. The last I heard, astrophysicists haven’t a clue how come so many bodies in the solar system are heavily coated with water.

  “I’m as sure as I can be that Ceres was settled because it has a 100 plus kilometer deep, world-girdling ocean of common H2O water.