AMP Rebellion

by Stephen Arseneault

  Frig tilted his head slightly and replied, “Could we not establish the same with a comm to the Suppressor Sir?”

  I responded, “If the Durians already have control I don’t want them to know that we might be on to them. If everything looks good we make that comm link. If anything looks out of whack, we go with the assumption that the Durians are already there. Let’s just hope McKinzey was the one initially in charge of this operation and that the Durians were new to the scene. If that is the case our people can still make a run for the Fasture.”

  Frig replied, “If we are moving our base Sir. Those automated docks will have to be destroyed. We will not be able to produce any more ships.”

  I nodded. “I know. McKinzey has screwed us in the worst way. Our whole operation is in jeopardy. I just hope we catch a break here. The survival of our freedom is going to be counting on it.”

  Several minutes later Frig spoke, “Sir, the scans show activity as normal around Jarhead. I am initiating another portal for a comm link. A connection has been established Sir.”

  I got on the comm. “This is Grange. I have an immediate order for evacuation of all ships. We expect the Durians to be closing on that position at any time. Anything that cannot be immediately moved should be destroyed. This is an emergency move and needs to happen right now! And patch me through to George, Rita and Gy.”

  Several seconds passed before the others answered. “This is George Don. What is happening?”

  I replied, “We are certain the Durians know of your position and will be there at almost any time. You need to destroy everything that can’t be moved and get out of there while you can. If the Durians arrive before you leave our whole operation is over. Don’t waste time packing or trying to salvage anything. If it can’t fly immediately, just burn it!”

  The comm link ended as the wormhole collapsed. I rubbed the sides of my head as I began to pace the deck. It would now be some time before I knew if the others would reach safety in the Fasture. Opening new comms while they were trying to flee would only slow things down. Coordinates to a rendezvous location in the Fasture had been passed during the comm. It would be days before I would know if the escape was a success.

  I stopped my pacing and spoke, “Frig. Can you open wormholes in a line heading away from the Suppressor going towards the Grid and perform scans? I want to know if the Durians are headed that way. Would there be enough time for the scan to catch them if they were passing nearby?”

  Frig replied, “Entering coordinates for a block of scans along a trajectory heading back towards the Grid. We should have the first scan results in 48 seconds Sir. I will need approximately 16 minutes to determine if the Durians are heading towards the Suppressor. But you do realize Sir, that if they are traveling in a cloaked condition, we will not be able to detect them. Just as we saw back at Dakamus, they can go dark whenever they desire.”

  I replied, “Just make it so Frig. I’m going to be on edge until I know everyone is out of there.”

  The waiting game was torture. I continued to pace as Frig verified that there were no signs of the Durians approaching Jarhead from the Grid. A new partial scan of the area revealed that 60% of our ships had departed.

  The great automated construction docks we had worked so hard to acquire and configure were now on their way towards the star in the Jarhead system. They would burn into oblivion before our enemies could put them to use against us. Once assembled, they had become too large to transport elsewhere.

  When the last of our ships had left the Jarhead system I turned to Frig. “Let’s head out to their location. If we need to talk with our team on the Grid we can do it from there with the wormhole. Since we are on the subject, have you had any time to try to expand the portal capacity? Can we make it larger?”

  Frig replied, “At this time it would require more power or a larger antenna array. I was thinking of possibly converting two of the empty cargo bays on the Suppressor for just such an experiment. One bay would be filled with generators while the other housed a massive antenna structure.”

  I responded, “Do we have any idea of the size of the hole we could produce? Can we fly a Hawk through it?”

  Frig shook his head, “I am sorry Sir. We are still far from a portal of that size. With our current understanding we may be able to fire a blaster from a Hawk or Defender through it, but that would be the limit. I am also not sure if sending raw power through it would actually work. It is possible that something that strong may cause the hole to collapse prematurely. The portal we are able to open now remains relatively unstable Sir.”

  I continued my pacing as I spoke, “If we are going to build this thing we also have the issue of payment for generators and antennae as well as keeping our operations going. Our cache of jewels is down on Jarhead in that hardened bunker. I’m not sure what kind of stash we have readily available on the Suppressor. Our credit store on Omrin has already been placed on hold pending claims filed by McKinzey against it. We are going to have to really grease some palms if we want any access to it.”

  Frig replied, “Agreed Sir. I believe that is something that George might be able to handle for us. One moment Sir…. The current scan of the system shows that all ships have departed for the Fasture nebula Sir. We should be in the clear.”

  I plopped down in a chair with a scowl on my face. “What do we do Frig? McKinzey has us in a bind. A few of us are free, but not enough to do much. I’m beginning to wonder if we need a million-man army to take the Grid back from that traitor.”

  Frig was quiet for several seconds. “We do have that army Sir. The Milgari… they have pledged to me repeatedly that they would forever be in my service should I require it.”

  I chuckled as a picture rolled through my head of Frig leading a million Milgari into battle. “No, as good as that sounds it is not an option. These are our people on the Grid. If we turn it into a battleground, we are the ones who would lose. I don’t want to risk all those innocent Humans who probably don’t even know what it is they are caught up in. We need a way to neutralize the opposition without having to fight against our own. If we were to attack with Milgari forces we would be the ones branded as traitors.”

  Back in the Fasture I sat in my office with a view-screen in front of me. I perused the final terraforming pictures that had been uploaded to the Suppressor from Jarhead. We were only a year away from completion of the major earth moving projects where a massive tree planting campaign would begin.

  The immense storms that played mayhem with the planet’s surface had largely subsided. The weather was slowly changing to habitable seasonal patterns. The vast expanses of naturally irrigated crop fields lay ready for plantings, plantings that would no longer happen.

  We had abandoned our potential new home due to the threat of the Durians. Our giant, robotic terraforming platforms sat idle. Without the manpower required to guide them, we had been forced to bury them deep under Jarhead’s surface. Our vast underground bunkers of stolen jewels and other resources lay hidden from above, but unusable for our purposes.

  We were a fleet without a home. Our base was a giant converted ore hauler, our supplies were limited. I let out a long sigh as I looked at the images. Frig came through the door holding a bottle.

  I spoke, “What’s with the booze? Are we drowning in our sorrows today?”

  Frig sat, poured a glass of the Omrin whiskey and pushed it in front of me. “No need to drown Sir. Consider this a sort of celebration. I believe I may have a breakthrough with the wormhole generator Sir.”

  I sat up in my chair. “What kind of breakthrough are we talking about? Are we talking big or are we talking really big?”

  Frig poured a smaller glass of his own and held it up. “Think smaller Sir. Perhaps moderate by your desires, but substantial from where we are. I have been over the calculations numerous times. From two bays of this ship, one containing generators and the other antennae, I believe we can open a
25 centimeter diameter portal Sir, a portal large enough to pass this bottle through to someone on the other side.”

  I sat my glass down. “That is fantastic! We can now start up that booze smuggling operation with our people on the Grid! Soon, we will have everyone there drunk as a skunk and we can then just waltz right in!”

  Frig sat silent for several seconds. “I have to assume that a skunk is a Human rogue, or perhaps an animal from the Archives for that statement to make sense Sir. Sarcasm aside, what this means is that we can now transfer physical objects to wherever we desire.”

  I stood and waved my now half empty glass around as I walked my office. “OK. So, we can send supplies maybe? Unless you tell me that I can stroll through one of those portals I just don’t see the significance of it yet.”

  After gulping down his glass of whiskey Frig winced and replied, “You have to think in a bit more unconventional terms Sir. Imagine this… McKinzey walks into a room, surrounded by his bodyguards. His eyes are drawn to the corner of the room as a strange light appears and a small round window to elsewhere pops into existence. Those same eyes widen as one of Jeb’s hand grenades drops out of it onto the floor in front of him.”

  Frig hesitated for a moment. “Think of the portal as a tool Sir, a tool that can be used for almost any situation. We only need to determine what that use is. Perhaps if you finished your booze Sir, it would clear your mind.”

  Frig had put me in my place as usual. The remainder of the afternoon was spent talking about our potential uses for a 25 centimeter portal. With enough thought and planning the portal could prove invaluable. But there remained two enormous hurdles for us to still overcome. Where would we obtain the 40,000 generators needed to supply its power and where would we obtain the materials needed to construct the giant antennae? George would have much to do in the coming months.

  Chapter 7

  After landing at Omrin, George got to work with his manufacturing contacts. Factories on Omrin were capable of turning out 2,000 standard ion generators a month. It was a pace far below what was needed. I sat beside George at a table in the office of Goran Harm. He commanded the largest manufacturing facility on Omrin.

  George spoke, “Goran, we need the power equivalent of 40,000 standard generators. What are our options?”

  Goran replied, “Hmmm, 40,000. That is enough to power a city the size of our capital here. As always, I will not inquire as to your end use. Have you considered a base generator? I can show you the one we have here powering this factory. It will provide you with 212 times the power of a standard. While it is substantially more expensive than a standard, the cost per SGU (Standard Generation Unit) will be less due to the economies of scale.”

  George leaned on the table with his elbows. “What are your production capabilities for these?”

  Goran thought for a moment. “We only build one or two a month at present. That is all we have demand for. It is being constructed on our newest factory line. I believe we could ramp production up rather quickly to 24 base units per month with a signed contract and substantial down payment. Would eight months be a satisfactory timeframe for manufacturing?”

  George pulled back. “We have a need that is as soon as possible.”

  Goran’s assistant leaned in and whispered to his boss. Goran stood and spoke, “Come with me. I would like to show you some of our current research.”

  We followed Goran and his assistant down a long hallway that eventually led to his research facilities. We stood in a control room with a glass wall as a number of scientists milled about doing various tasks on the other side.

  Goran pressed a button on a mic. “Attention. I have a special guest with me today that I would like to demonstrate the ion pulse-flex generation experiment to. Please cease all activities and focus on this demonstration. If all goes well we may have a partner who will assist in turning this technology into a viable product.”

  Goran turned to us and spoke, “Please have a seat. This will only take a short time to organize and show. I believe you may be pleased with what we may be able to offer.”

  I spoke, “May be able to offer? That sounds like you are only in the early stages of development.”

  Goran replied, “Yes. That would be a true statement. However, my engineers have the plans for this prototype in place and are eager to build a full size pulse-flex generator. I will say up front, there is a stability issue that we have yet to resolve, but our chief designer feels that once the generator is scaled up that will not be an issue.”

  George spoke, “What kind of capacity are we talking about for a single unit?”

  An engineer tapped on the glass and turned back towards a black square module of two meters in height.

  Goran raised his hand. “They are ready. Let us begin.”

  Goran gave a wave to a technician standing at a console and various knobs were pushed and buttons pressed. A noticeable vibration could be felt as the generator came online. Goran again raised his hand and the tech turned a knob. The vibration began to grow as the power indicator increased. At 50 SGUs the generator vibration was smooth and steady.

  Goran again raised his hand. The technician hesitated and once again turned the knob to the right. The vibrations increased as the power output moved up to 100 SGUs. I could almost feel my back teeth clattering against each other as the entire research facility shook.

  Goran then looked at the technician. “Mr. Harrif, please apply the pulse-flex signal.”

  The technician placed his finger just above a large red button. He appeared apprehensive.

  Goran spoke in a loud voice, “Mr. Harrif! Please apply the pulse-flex signal!”

  Harrif looked out through the glass towards a waiting engineer. The engineer gave a tepid nod to proceed. The red button was pressed and in an instant the power output of the experimental generator ramped up to more than 300 SGUs. Goran turned and smiled.

  He then spoke loudly over the increasing vibrational hum, “Our full scale generator should deliver almost 50 times the power of this prototype! Imagine 15,000 SGUs out of a generator the size of that room!”

  The vibrations continued to grow as the power meter read 14,856 SGUs. I looked over to a very nervous technician and then back at the generation unit. I began to wonder what held it in place.

  Goran spoke, “Gentlemen, let us return to the comfort of my office.”

  As I stood and turned towards the door the generator began to buck violently as one of the heavy bolts holding it to the floor gave way. The technicians began to scramble in an attempt to shut the unit down. Scientists and engineers ran for cover as the generator began to separate from its pad. Goran remained calm, escorting us from the room. As the door closed behind me there was a loud boom and the building shook.

  Goran spoke, “Please do not be concerned with the noise. We have had the same stability issue each time we applied the pulse-flex signal.”

  I replied, “That generator just tore loose from its moorings. You may have lost people back there!”

  Goran continued with his same calm voice, “Mr. Grange. We risk our lives every day, sometimes just by walking in the street, other times by what we consume. We have yet to lose a worker while conducting these pulse-flex experiments. Please do not concern yourself with our safety standards, we take them very seriously.”

  George placed his hand on my shoulder as we walked. “Don’t pay him any mind Goran. He doesn’t have much experience in the manufacturing world.”

  George turned towards me. “These are extreme power levels Don. They can be difficult to control.”

  After being seated in Goran’s office George spoke, “So, we will need at least three of these scaled up units. How long before they would be ready for pickup?”

  Goran eagerly squirmed in his chair. “There is the important aspect of finance to be discussed. We must negotiate a price.”

  George leaned towards Goran’s desk. “We want the Generators Goran. How
much do you want and when can we have them?”

  Goran patted his fingers together as he smiled. “We will have to acquire the materials first. Then there is the facility. We will….”

  George raised his voice, “Goran! Give me a price and a date! We need this technology immediately. I will sign whatever confidentiality agreements you want. We will even allow your engineers to come with us to monitor the generators use so that you can benefit from its further development. Give me some numbers!”

  Goran nodded. “Very well Sir. I will draw up the contracts immediately so that the process can begin. I believe we can have your generators ready in 45 days. Payment of course will have to be made in advance.”

  George settled back in his chair. “I will see to it that you receive a substantial enough forward of credits to construct the generators Goran. We will be expecting them in precisely 45 days.”

  Goran scribbled down a few notes and sent his assistant scurrying away with them.

  Goran spoke, “We will meet the deadline for the three generators. If you have any other needs, please do not hesitate to contact me directly.”

  With that our meeting ended. George moved quickly down the hall to the building’s lobby and hailed a local transport. Our next stop was to a large metals and commodity supply business. Frig’s antennas required a precise alloy mixture and manufacturing process. Moog Riovan, had the raw materials and the technological knowhow needed to construct the giant antennas. Moog’s office sat on a tall spire, overlooking his vast boneyards of scrap metal and raw materials.

  As we looked out of the office windows on Moog’s business empire, George spoke, “Moog, we have the need for a large number of very big antennae. I have the specifications here and would like to know when you can get started on their manufacture.”

  Moog held up his hands. “Whoa George, let’s chat for a bit. I’m sure business can wait for a few minutes.”