“Yes honey?” her mother asked.
“Where's the tablet?” she asked, sitting on her haunches. Not there.
“Um... I don't know. Did you check the seat cushions?” her mother called. Mairi checked, and didn't find it. She grunted in irritation as her mother came out of her room.
“Well dear, I don't know what you did with it. It'll turn up eventually,” Olga said. She adjusted glittering bangles on her wrists. She was wearing a red silk dress. She smiled.
“Nice,” Mairi said, wondering where her mother had gotten the credits for the thing. Slutty, definitely. She wondered what Harif would look like if she turned up in something liked that. Her mother adjusted her hair and then posed. “Nice mom. Going out?”
“Yes dear, don't wait up for me,” her mother said, picking up her purse. She strutted out of their quarters. Mairi watched her go, shaking her head.
Suspicious of her mother, she turned and used the wall screen to check her mother's account. What her mother didn't know was that it was a joint account since that was the only way Mairi could deposit an allowance into it. It was a pain in the ass using the tiny remote, but she managed to find the website and log in after a few minutes.
She flipped through the data, looking at the withdrawals and deposits. Then her eyes turned to the deposits. Since when? Her mother wasn't working... one recent deposit caught her eye and she swore. A deposit from a pawn shop for a tablet. “Damn her!” she threw the remote down in disgust. She swore, pacing for a good hour before she realized it wouldn't do her any good.
...*...*...*...*...
The next morning she found the tablet on the kitchen counter. She snorted. Her mother had either gotten the money to get it out of hock or she'd decided to conveniently 'find' the 'lost' tablet to keep Mairi from getting too interested in where it went. She'd lied to her, that was for sure. She was up to something, most likely something she didn't want Mairi to know or worry about. Uncle Edgar had had it out with her once over something like this back in Senka. Something about taking things that weren't hers, using them for collateral, and then using the money to gamble. If she won she paid the loan back and got the item back. More often though her mother lost. She then had to scramble to find a way to cover the debt or lose the item.
Whatever was going on Mairi vowed to have a 'chat' with her mother when she came home later that night. That was if she wasn't too tired from working. She grabbed an energy drink, a couple of power bars, a can of tuna and a fork and stuffed them into her pockets. She turned and left the apartment at a trot.
...*...*...*...*...
“To many chiefs, not enough Indians. And neither side know what the hell we're doing. Green all around and it shows. None of us have done this before,” Savo said in disgust. They were still having teething trouble with the Tribecca solar project. They were working on a shoe string budget, with no room for error. Fortunately the design was simple in robust, it was getting it all in place that was proving a challenge.
The basic design was a flat truss platform. The truss platform was two meters in depth, made up of triangles for rigid strength. On the side facing the sun solar panels were attached, arranged as close to each other as possible. It was all plug and play, even the ion RCS thruster packs to keep the panels oriented toward the sun. They would need to be periodically refueled, another expense they hadn't quite counted on.
Solar wind was already pressing against the structure, slowly pushing it out of its planned orbit like a giant solar sail. They were burning through fuel faster than they had planned and the project was only half complete. Savo had made a lot of comments about how if Irons had been on hand he would have thought of a way to fix the problem.
That had nettled Harif, who had thought he could fix the problem. Even Mairi was stumped, the only way she saw to fix it was just to add larger fuel tanks for the ion thrusters and make regular servicing runs. But the board wanted something simpler, a quick long term fix.
They were starting to learn there weren't quick fixes however, sometimes you just had to grin and bear it. Take for instance the problems with Tribecca's end. They had been chasing after the Yard Dogs, even threatening litigation if they fell behind. So far Petunia had kept to the schedule, burning through shift after shift to get the job done. But now they had received a call stating that the microwave ground station was falling behind and Tribecca was considering calling the entire project off. When news of that had reached the board they'd called an emergency meeting.
“We need Irons. We need John here, now. He knows how to get shit done,” Savo said again. He was fairly sure John would have done something, even if it meant donating something to get the project back on track.
Things were finally picking up but the station and the corporations were fighting back. Clio warned him that there had been ten cyber attacks on the security systems of the bay and warehouse since 9am that morning. It was only a matter of time before someone tried to hack the bar and their quarters too, If they didn't already. Harif and Jake were busy isolating the systems into protected servers. That would cut Clio and the Warners off though, at least for the next several days until they could engineer a back door for them to use.
“Well, we don't have him. We'll have to make do with what we've got.”
“Then we need someone like him.”
“His plan...”
“That's just it. We're not even following the damn plan! We're screwing around, exercises, various ideas, so called training,” he waved an impatient hand. “But not what we're supposed to be doing! Building the damn yard!”
“We've got to wait until we've got the funds. We can't go off half cocked.”
“No, we've got to get our finger out of our ass and do something. We've lost two people because we've been sitting around talking the big talk but not putting words to action. Time we do that. Try. Even if we fail, try. It may not look good but it's something.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Mairi,” he said turning to the girl. The girl blinked, startled. “Yeah you. I want you to run us some fuel and some asteroids.”
“You know that the station has a charge on all resources.”
“Tax you mean. I can't believe you let that slide.”
“No choice,” the councilor sighed. “I, we were outvoted.”
“Right. Well, we don't have to bring the stuff onto the station.”
“What?”
“That's right!” Mairi said standing up in excitement. “We don't do we? We can go and tank up on the startup base!”
“Okay...”
“We've got all that gear taking up space. Space we're paying for. I say we take it all and have Mairi here move it to the base. We'll stop having to pay space rent and taxes on it and we can put it to use right there. Unless of course you figure out some way of charging ourselves for fuel and metals,” he said, brown eyes looking disgustedly at the councilors.
“That's not fair. They are trying.”
“Trying yes, but not succeeding. You two have the experience we lack. So put it to use why dont'cha? We need it now more than ever. You know the pirates will come around sometime. We need to put what Irons left for us to good use.”
“All right.”
“And Tribecca?”
“We've got them by the short hairs. We've gotten our side done, and the contract is boiler clad, they can't get out of it even if they file for bankruptcy. If they try they pretty much turn over their company to us,” Clio said smiling. Savo whistled, brown eyes wide in appreciation. He didn't like it that Petunia was out there on her own doing the work but at least they were doing all they could to make sure it wasn't for nothing. “Something we learned from Zap and our latest investor scam,” Clio finished, nodding to Alice. They'd just had to deal with an investor chasing Gwen and Riff around. The Taurens had been threatened with losing their jobs on the station if they didn't sell. A sting operation had failed, but it had driven the schemers back into hiding like the cockroaches t
hey were.
Alice nodded back grimly. “But can we help them make this work?”
“Why should we?” Savo asked indifferently.
Alice shrugged, looking at him. “I dunno, I just don't like seeing someone fail if we can help stop it. They never did anything against us, and a little good will goes a long way right?”
“You're saying that if we tossed them something it might help them get it on track and maybe grease the wheels with expanding the project?”
“And it'll help our public image a bit. Do no evil. Can we do it? What is their problem I mean?”
“It's not financial,” Clio responded. “It's technical. They haven't gone into details but I believe if I'm reading their build schedule right they have fallen behind because 1 no one has experience doing this before, and 2 they are missing some critical parts to make it function. And oh, 3 political foot dragging. Zoning commissions blocking the transmission lines, lawsuits trying to halt or stall the project, all sorts of crap.”
Taylor tapped his chin, one of his mannerisms when he was thinking. Finally he grunted. “The first we can't do much about, they'll get the hang of it eventually. Microwave receivers aren't that complicated, it's just production that's a problem. Hell! All you really need is a field about the size of a football stadium with a bunch of metal stalks! The energy from the microwave transmission will be collected by the wires and metal stalks and then fed into the grid! Why do they have a problem with that?” he demanded. Clio just shrugged.
“I'm going to make a call then,” Taylor growled. “I'll see what I can do there. As far as the zoning... what about Governor Randall? Can we get him involved? He made that speech about helping out, the whole building energy infrastructure. This is right along that line.”
“I believe the power lines are a problem in both manufacturing and location. The shortest distance from their half finished transceiver and their grid passes over a school. Apparently a lot of parents aren't happy about having power lines over their kids heads. That area also has a lot of homes too.”
“Um...” Savo rubbed his brow. He didn't have any idea on what to do. He freely admitted he was out of his element.
“What about a superconductor line?” Rasha finally asked. She looked at Taylor. He frowned. Savo looked up and stared at them. “It's possible, and if they bury it that ends the conflict right?”
“Yes,” Taylor admitted.
“But no one can make the line!” Ralph said in disgust. “No one can make room temperature superconductors!”
“No one ground side,” Taylor said softly. His wife nodded. Both turned to the group. “No one but us.”
The others stared at them for a long moment. “We can do that?” Ralph finally asked, clearly surprised.
“Yes,” Rahsa admitted with a curt nod. “I can do it. The wire extruder will work nicely as long as we feed it the right materials.”
“Oh.”
“And I have the key codes to allow it to make the wiring they need,” Rasha finished.
“Oh.”
“Can we contact them? Offer that service?” Clio asked. Rasha looked at her husband. Taylor stared for a long moment and then shrugged slightly. Finally Rasha turned and nodded to the AI.
“What about farming the power out?” Alice asked. Clio frowned, she had planned to bring that point up.
“What do you mean?” Savo asked tiredly.
“The power. Remember the planet is turning. It's a ball,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “So?”
“So the transmission receiver will only receive power for a brief point of time. One of the things we're supposed to make is a relay satellite. Several actually,” Clio responded. “But they didn't want them or couldn't pay for them in the initial outlay so stuck to the direct approach,” she explained.
“Tribecca?”
“Yes.”
“The power is ours right?”
“Technically yes. Once it's in the receiver they sell it and give us a cut of the profit.”
“Okay, so...” Alice leaned back and cracked her knuckles. “This is just thinking out loud you understand, but what about other companies? I mean not necessarily in direct competition to Tribecca but say, in other grids? Other continents? If the power flow is consistent can't we, I dunno, beam it to different locations on the planet?” She made a fist with her right hand and had her left hand palm out. “Say my left hand is the solar farm, my right is the planet. Now, as the planet turns, the transmission could go to anywhere on the planet.”
“My wife the engineer,” Ralph said, smiling proudly.
“Shut it,” Alice growled. “I read the brief and history files. So what?”
“So the rest of us overlooked it,” Taylor responded. “Even us old hands,” he said sheepishly. “Good catch.”
“I want it noted I was going to bring this up,” Clio said. Savo snorted.
“Okay, so can you farm it out to others? Or can we make the relay satellite on our own dime and charge them for its use?”
Taylor rubbed his chin again and then turned to Clio. She nodded. “I'm already looking into it,” she said. Taylor nodded.
“Good for me then,” Savo said. “What's next?” he asked.
Chapter 8
Additional rock material was brought in, Mairi managed to bring in 2-3 tons of material every shift. She usually worked a double and then took a shift off to recuperate. Fuel wasn't an issue, they owned the rights to the gas giant refinery the admiral had built. Most of the time they sold the deuterium, helium 3, hydrogen, and other gases to the station since the station provided the automated tugs to haul the gas from the refinery. But they had the right to it... even if they had to pay the damn station for 'storage fees'.
Since the Tribecca project was on hold they turned their attention to the yard and their own supply chain. The yard could go like that, it was a long term project so they could drop and pick the project up at anytime. After a week of mining and refining they finished their first Major project.
A robotic tug had been created, a no frills version of the bitch but without a spherical hab module for an organic pilot. It was designed to be partnered with the Bitch, echoing her every move or remote controlled from the bitch. Mairi called it Romeo. She used the two tugs to push their first asteroid to where they wanted the yard to be constructed. Then she relocated some of their equipment to the surface of the rock along with Petunia and her apprentices. She taxied them to and from the rock daily until the equipment was up and processing the rock.
With a hands on supply of material the molecular furnaces swung into action. For the first several days the rocks needed to be broken up by hand, but after a couple tons of material they had a grizzly box and sets of grinders to do that chore. Soon all they had to do was keep the grizzly box fed. The material was ground up by the grinding cylinders and then passed up a chute to the molecular furnaces. The furnaces broke them down and separated the component molecules and then shunted them into a series of bags.
After the first week of getting the teething problems sorted out, they started on the next phase.
...*...*...*...*...
Governor Randall's office was already aware of the situation, or so the staffer informed Taylor when he finally managed to talk to someone. The time lag involved was a bit maddening for someone built into a computer network but he managed to hold onto his temper. The staffer thanked him for his concern and then hung up. Angry he shot the Governor an e-mail detailing the conversation. He tagged it with his name and Id... and then stopped it from going out when he noted it had his station council address. That was a big no no, mixing his council job with the Yard Dogs. He logged into the Dog server and then copied and pasted the contents of the e-mail to a write file and then opened a new e-mail using his Yard Dog account. He sent it off and then sighed.
...*...*...*...*...
Another dozen people were hired, two were veteran spacers with their own suits but the rest were all greenhorns. Non
e had certification, and of course none had a suit. They weren't even sure they could 'hack the black' another problem. Ralph proposed they start additional screening instead of 'taking in every tom dick and harry who wants a job.' Savo and the others reluctantly agreed.
Clio informed them they needed workers compensation insurance, as well as a pension and medical and life insurance. “You all know how dangerous space can be. We have to be prepared for it.”
Petunia laughed bitterly. All eyes turned to her. “I'm the expert on that remember? Yes, I know how dangerous it is. Ralph is right, we need better screening. We at least need testing, and training for any greenhorns we want to keep. I'd say put them in a dark room and see if they freak.”
Savo looked thoughtful. “Not a bad idea. I think John did something similar a few times. Or so he said.”
“We'd have to have them sign a release before hand,” Clio warned. “If they suffered any trauma they would have grounds to sue.”
“So? Do it. Write up a form or download one or whatever. They have to sign one before going out right? It's only smart to have one on hand for training too. No matter how much we try to make it safe something could happen.”
“Yeah someone could stub their toe in the dark,” Ralph muttered darkly.
“No, I'm more worried about someone going nuts. Or saying they went nuts and suing us. That'd suck,” Savo said.
Ralph nodded slowly, jaw set in a grim line. “Yeah, good point.” He turned to the AI. “Let's do it.” Slowly the others nodded in agreement.
...*...*...*...*...
Kennet stared at the report, angry that things had slipped so far out of his control. Why? How? That girl, that was the answer of course. But why wasn't Yan helping him?
His thoughts turned inward as he tried to wrestle with his self doubt. He was eager to prove himself to Yan, prove that he was up for bigger and more important things but right now he knew he needed his mentor. Yan however was oblivious to his entrees he just... it mortified him to see the grand old man like this. They'd triumphed after all! They'd driven the barbarian from their midst, driven him from the system! Together they could control this system's economy... perhaps the sector's! And yet... and yet for some reason Yan seemed to regret that. He'd said one thing, something along the lines of even in victory one can taste the ashes of utter defeat before he'd dismissed Kennet from his presence.
13 Degrees of Separation Page 27
