Critical Error: Book 3 of the Leaving Earth series

by Kaal Alexander Rosser

  There were other aspects as well. Like the internal research library which had sprung into being, and the new usage of previously ignored software for engaging in cross-departmental discussions.

  Bolt all of those things together and you had yourself a separate R&D Division. Pull R&D out of the other Divisions, and have them concentrate on application, operation, and maintenance. That way you have yourself a more streamlined business. One which might actually start turning a profit generally within the next five years instead of twenty. That was what he wanted. But to do that he would have to extend his reach. Like Hank had once accused him of, he would have to become the COO in essence, if not in name.

  Both families went to the airport to see Stew, Amy, and Clait on to the plane.

  For both children, it was the first time they had been into a really busy airport, and it was a little daunting. For the parents it was nerve-wracking. Several times each parent was convinced that their child had disappeared, only to feel a little hand tugging at a trouser leg wanting to know what that was.

  They went to a restaurant in the airport and paid the vastly inflated prices for mediocre food. At least it was relatively safe and quiet, and they could stay there until it was time to go through security and on to the gate.

  Ju wanted to know why he was staying home, while Clait was going on holiday. He had to be satisfied with being told that it was not his turn, and they would go for a holiday next time they had a chance. He was also enticed with Clait coming to stay with them for a while when they came home from the holiday.

  Ju gave Grum the strong impression that he could not have cared less if his parents were along for the holiday, and having Clait back was not enough compensation, so Grum determined that he would make an effort to do some extra things with his son while Stew and Amy were on their travels.

  Chapter 6

  WHEN Grum got into the office on the following Monday morning one of his least favourite emails was waiting for him. The subject read: "Fwd: Potential Security Breach of CLASSIFIED material", and that was weird. Not because of the email itself. These things happened occasionally, and usually turned out to be someone who had unthinkingly used their home computer to log on something non-sensitive, but followed a link to a secure area. It happened.

  No, the odd thing was that he had not been alerted directly, and it was in the CLASSIFIED category. That normally meant that the security office would be breathing down his neck. This was just a forwarded message directly from one of the security managers. He read the email:

  "Don't think it's really an issue, but… On holiday? Tut tut."

  That was followed by the usual blurb showing the when, where, and who of the access violation.

  It was Stew. He was using an authorised device, but doing so from out of the country, which immediately threw a warning.

  Grum replied to the email saying that he would talk to the offender about it. He got a message back saying that the office had a dozen more if he needed evidence.

  Grum did not need more evidence of this. Grum checked the file which had been accessed. Stew was checking on the latest UMBRA design updates. Pillock. He phoned Stew, although he had sworn to himself that he would not so this.

  'Hey, Grum. Can't do without me? It's just coming up for lunchtime, so I can spare some ti-'

  'Shut up, Stew,' interrupted Grum. 'You are on a family holiday and you're checking classified work documents from a sodding beach! Pack it in!'

  'But-'

  'No! Stew, you need the break and can easily catch up when you get back. I have already had snarky emails from the security office about this. Just stop working for a bit. I'm sure Amy and Clait would appreciate it. Oh, and if that doesn't hold you back, here's the stick. If I hear about more access of classified bloody material while you're on holiday, I'll revoke your access and have security remote fry your phone and computer. I don't even care if you have the laptop with you. I'll do it anyway. Got it?'

  'Yes, boss.' Stew's voice on the other end of the phone was sullen and held the edge of menace.

  'Don't you even think about disobeying me on this one, Stew. You are meant to be enjoying a holiday with your family and I'll deal with replacing a laptop far easier than a burnt-out mate who won't bloody quit!' Grum heard the sharp intake of breath.

  'OK, Grum. You've made your point. I really do have lunch coming, though. I should go be with my family.'

  'Good. And please enjoy the rest of your holiday!'

  'I'll do my best, Grum. Cheers.'

  'Cheers.' The line went dead. Harsh but fair. Had to be done, right? Now I can get on with all the other annoying things Monday morning usually has for me.

  The first of those things was realising that Kelvin really was not going to back down on giving Grum more than one day a week of Steve Branch's time. That meant that all the people he had ever handed admin work off to were not available.

  As well as running SyncDep – which Grum was nominally now doing – Stew had also handled some of the annoying day-to-day business of Core Power, kept himself in the loop on all the latest innovations in the business, and was a readily available brain for Grum to bounce ideas off.

  SyncDep itself probably would not be much of an extra burden. Stew was even better at delegation than Grum was himself, so the likelihood was that the department would keep ticking over without Stew at the helm, even if Grum did nothing.

  It was the rest of the stuff which Grum was not looking forward to dealing with.

  So, Grum, he asked himself, how exactly was Stew always available when you need a chat?

  That was a good question. There was rarely more than ten minutes between Grum needing to see Stew, and Stew being in his office. How did he do that? It was not the most important question, though. What he really needed to do to keep things going was to have all Stew's information channels routed to him for the time being. He suspected that was probably the only way to keep on top of everything that was going on.

  Nuclear power options were probably going to be the slowest, so he should do those first. Much of that work was being dealt with at the federal and state government level, though, so he might be able to get an update on that without chewing into the loan time he had for Steve. On the other hand, perhaps he should save all the federal and state government work until "Steve day".

  Too many maybes. Figure it out!

  Until he had an up-to-date state of play on all the programmes, he was not going to be able to make sensible decisions, so: get status updates.

  Some of the department heads might be a little surprised to be asked for an update, but it was what he needed. He almost sent out a blanket email to all the department heads asking for the status of the active projects. Bad plan. He could get that from SyncDep. What he wanted were the projects that were the highest Divisional priority, which were the ones he was involved with personally.

  Fission got a request for the latest update on the best prospects for fifth generation designs, the status of fourth generation test sites and build plans, and what measures were being taken to incorporate fourth generation concepts into third generation technology. From Solar he wanted the latest on build plans and industry links for expanding arrays. Vann got an email directly, asking what the status of UMBRA was, currently, and finally he called Ben to see how things were going down in Nevada.

  A useful disposition of an hour. Or so he thought. From some of the slightly indignant responses, he gathered that daily progress and status reports went to SyncDep. And if he really wanted up to the minute information, he could always join the appropriate chatroom. The message back from Vann was even less polite, but it did contain a link to the chatroom which apparently had all the relevant information pinned in links off it.

  At least it was nice to chat to Ben, he thought a little sourly.

  So, going to see SyncDep and the information sources there, really was the best plan.

  He probably did not need to walk down to Stew's office, but in the circumstance
s, it would be best to find out how things actually ran by being there. So he went to SyncDep.

  SyncDep, he discovered, was a noisy place. He was fairly sure it had not been as noisy as this a few years ago, when — he belatedly realised — was the last time he had actually gone to Stew's office. Time flies.

  The department itself was arranged in the shape of half an oval with a surrounding box of walls covered with screens. Each desk had a couple of smaller screens and a headset and a good view of the wall screens on their side of the room. Bisecting the half-oval was a fairly broad walkway at the end of which was Stew's office. And it was noisy.

  People were chatting, getting up, and walking about. Though not — Grum noticed — without purpose. It was not aimless wandering. There was always a definite objective. Be that the little kitchen area off to one side, someone's desk, or Stew's office. Grum watched, shocked as someone walked up to Stew's office door, gave a single perfunctory knock and walked in. He started in that direction quickly. The same person came out a few seconds later, almost running into Grum.

  'Er. Hello, sir. Can I help?'

  'You just went in here?' asked Grum. It was a dumb question. He had just seen the man walk out of the office after walking in. No wonder the guy was looking at him blankly. 'I mean, do you normally just go into this office?'

  'Several times a day, sir, normally. If I might enquire…?'

  'No matter. Who is in there?'

  'The duty manager, sir… If-'

  'But isn't that Stew's office?'

  'Oh, Mr Leslie doesn't really keep an office, sir. He's usually out doing… Er, just out, sir.'

  Grum chuckled. 'Out wherever I've sent him, or in my office, right? OK. I'm sorry. Please forgive me, it has been a while since I was here and it has changed a bit.'

  The office door opened and a very calm woman stood there. 'Is there anything we can help you with, sir?'

  'There certainly is.' Grum turned to the man whom he had just harassed. 'Sorry once again. I promise that I was just surprised. This used to be Stew's office, you see, and with him away…'

  'Nothing to worry about, sir. I quite understand.'

  You don't, thought Grum, but I will. He turned back to the woman in the doorway. 'I'm sorry to you, too. I'm Grum.'

  'Steff Winsor. Excuse me, sir.' She stepped aside from the door to let someone come in, and then a few seconds later, leave.

  'What happened, there?'

  'Priority update, probably.'

  Just call me Jon Snow, because I know nothing. 'Ms Winsor. I wonder if you could tell me about this department that I am technically head of for the next month?'

  That won him a smile. 'Certainly, Mr Hewson, do come in, and it's Steff.'

  'Then it's Grum, and I don't mind if I do.'

  Grum sat in a chair and then watched as Steff closed the door, but it immediately opened again. The intruder — a young woman this time — walked up to one of the screens and zapped it with her phone. The figures changed, but Grum did not know what they had been, so he could not tell what they should be, now. 'Priority update?'

  'From Sophia? Probably not.' Steff glanced at the screen, and Grum saw her blink in rapid mental calculation. 'Medical delivery status.'

  Grum was seriously impressed. Not just with Steff's display, but with the whole setup.

  'This is how Stew stays up to date?'

  'No, Grum. This is how I and the other duty managers stay up to date. Stew has the same app routed to his phone, but he tends to do personal visits, unless you send for him.'

  'He tours the whole company?'

  'At least once per week,' agreed Steff.

  'I can't do that!'

  'I don't think that anyone is expecting you to. Stew did let everyone know that he would be away for a month. To be honest, I suspect that several people will be glad not to have the weekly visit.' She pulled a piece of paper from her top pocket. 'Those are the ones which Stew has asked that we pop in on a couple of times while he is away.'

  'I could, perhaps do those…'

  'We can handle it, Grum. We have special instructions about several of the programmes, by the way. Certain updates and changes which should be routed directly to you.'

  'So I really don't have to do anything about running SyncDep?'

  'Not unless you insist, of course.'

  'Thank you, no. I'm sure that it will work far better without my interfering. One thing, though. I would like, if Stew has not already left instructions to this effect, to have information on the levels of interaction and co-operation between departments across the company. Relative figures would be fine. Just so that I can get an overview on the state of play regarding the effectiveness of communications across the company.'

  'That would be a report on our own effectiveness, wouldn't it, sir?'

  Ah, I'm "sir" again. Whoops. 'It's not a SyncDep performance report, Steff!' Grum chuckled. 'I'm really more interested in the current level of spontaneous interaction, regardless of SyncDep's intervention. Things like research sharing, inter-departmental chatrooms or discussion boards, deliberate use of the consultancy service to facilitate multi-stakeholder projects, all that kind of thing. I'm trying to get a picture of where the communications channels are freest, and where they are less so. Some departments possibly have reason for not involving themselves in that kind of exchange, but others not so much. Now, I know that this is SyncDep's raison d'etre, but I'm not looking to do anything except know the status for while Stew's away, OK?'

  'OK, Grum. Thank you for clarifying. I'll get you that information. How frequently would you like it updated?'

  'Snapshot once a week?'

  'Certainly.'

  'Great. I'll leave you to it. I'm sure that I have caused something of a bottleneck in the flow of information, myself. Cheerio.'

  Grum left the office, and there were, indeed, several people who left their seats immediately to converge on Steff's domain.

  By the end of the week Grum had a complete picture of how things stood. It turned out that Steve Branch was one of those people who was updating SyncDep daily with progress reports, so Grum did not really need more than a day of his time.

  Even so, it had been a hard week in getting the information sorted in his brain's framework, and he would be glad to relax at the weekend.

  He and Vann had promised Ju that they would go to see dinosaurs at a park in New Jersey on Saturday. Grum had promised himself that he would take Ju to start learning to swim over the next few Sundays.

  Chapter 7

  KELVIN'S email left no room for doubt about the future of nuclear power stations in the state of Nevada. There just would not be one. No matter how friendly Kelvin was with the Lieutenant Governor, it seemed, the state government was not going to budge. In a way Grum was glad of that. There was no real need to have nuclear power in Nevada, the slack could be entirely met by renewables. The state government was entirely supportive of those initiatives from USSMC which promised a large boost to the electricity generation capacity by solar photovoltaics. They had offered some incentives of their own in the form of direct investment in the supporting infrastructure, and positive endorsement of the programmes.

  Nevada as a whole still got the majority of its power generation from natural gas, whether imported of locally produced, but by Grum's calculations they could tip the renewables over the edge and in to the lead for the first time. That would be something to crow about, and he made a note to talk to Steve Branch about it.

  What that did mean was that the other states would become more important in terms of the fourth and fifth gen testing. He brought up the EIA file for the states with active nuclear programmes. What he needed was to find the states which had nuclear power from Independent Power Producers which were active a preferably growing.

  In no particular order, he thought the best prospects were Ohio, New York, New Jersey, New Hampshire, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. That gave quite a few options for both fourth and fifth gen test builds. Then the
re were other countries to consider. Leaving aside those places where religion or politics of one form or another precluded active participation, there were still a number of active programmes in which USSMC could involve themselves. That would be a trickier prospect, though. Most of the board was still shy of sharing intellectual property, clinging to the belief — and Grum had to consider it a belief, as it had no supporting evidence — that ideas were important regardless of execution. USSMC had a mountain of patents which they could never execute on, but which were nevertheless considered assets. The system was so hopelessly broken that preventing progress was actually considered to be a positive. Still… If he could show the board that sharing research on fission could bring about the larger goal of a functioning Moon Base, and open up the exploration plans, he might be able to do it. Give up the hypothetical gains — no matter how huge the paperwork says it could be in the next hundred years — for tangible gains in the next five-to-ten. It had to be a winner.

  Grum had stopped focusing on the screen in front of him as he hypothesised, looking instead at his own thoughts as they scrolled across his brain. So the knock at the door made him jump.

  It was Hank, and Grum waved him in.

  'Day dreaming about your eventual rise to glory?' said Hank as he walked in and shut the door.

  'Trying to figure out how the various nuclear power programmes fit together.'

  Hank glanced at the data on the screen and winced. 'Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that.'

  'OK. What's on your mind?'

  'You're really going to test nuclear power station designs?'

  'Yes. You know that.'

  'On Earth?'

  'I don't have another planet to test on!'

  'Well, not a planet…'

  'You mean do the initial research on the moon?'

  'Why not?'

  'Don't get me wrong, Hank, I'd love nothing more than to ship all the nuclear research and all the powerstations to the moon, or to Mars, but it can't happen that way.'