Every Last Mother's Child
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Chapter 11: At Boeing Space Craft Works of Trena
The CEO had heard the announcement the other night by the Queen in disbelief. But soon came to believe it was true. Now sitting in his office he was pondering how his company could help. It went with out saying that the contracts he had sitting on his desk were most likely null and void. The contracts for ships to be delivered next year or later were a thing of the past. He was thinking of sending his people home; but the more and more he thought about it he knew that with the equipment and resources sitting in his shipyard , his shipyard could serve his people during the evacuation. He stood up and went to the window that looked out to one of the production floors, he saw one of the largest ground to orbit vessels ever built was being finished. A huge LC-10, called a Galaxy Lifter was being built for the Earth’s Imperial Armed Forces. It was designed to lift 400 hundred tons of men and equipment into orbit, or deliver them to a rough field landing site. He stood there looking at the immense landing craft and suddenly realized what his company could do for the people of Trena.
Although this line could produce only five of these birds a month, he knew with the right nudging, and the reallocation of resources, suspending work on luxury space craft, and smaller ships he could produce five immense landing craft a week from this facility maybe more. He turned to his desk and called, “Jonesy!”
“Yes Bob,” the air over his desk shimmered a bit and suddenly an image of a big breasted woman in a revealing teddy lounged across his desk. She looked bored and sounded sultry as she buffed her nails.
“How many LC10F’s do we have ready for delivery?” The CEO asked the image of his personal assistant AI.
“Fifteen,” The image changed from wearing a revealing teddy to a very conservative business suit sensing that her boss didn’t want to play. She also seemed to take the chair in front of his desk. Her voice became prim and proper as befitting a trusted personal assistant of a chief executive officer. “All of them have finished QA and have been flight tested. The expert systems on the birds are warm but not live. They could be delivered this minute.”
“If we converted the luxury line, and the fighter line to all LC10Fs how many could we crank out a week.” Bob asked.
“Maybe thirty,” The AI said, “That’s assuming we run three shifts a day and we have no union troubles.”
“What if we made them as civilian models?” He asked.
“We could maybe get another three. There isn’t that much different in the two versions just the expert system.” The AI said.
“Okay Jonesy,” the CEO said, “are you certain we can get 33 LC10F’s off our line a week. I find that hard to believe.”
“Well it won’t be this week.” Jonesy replied, “But give me a month to change the production flow, and resource allocations.”
“Well let’s see you put your money where your mouth is. Order that all ships on the ways finished. Any new ships started to be either LC10, or say LC 6 spacecraft. The crown will need a lot of heavy lift vehicles, but they’ll also need some lighter passenger only stuff to get us off world. Now get me the president of the TET yard.”
“Year sir,” the AI said.