“I'd stand aside if I were you,” said Steersman, again in a cold, almost inhuman voice.
They stood aside without a word.
Waves emanated from the robot's hands and they crushed the computer. The monitor went black.
The robot left the room without a word and Steersman turned to follow. Pausing, then turned back and said, “as you were!” He looked around the room. “Nice work!”
The uninvited guests then left without a sound, the same way they had arrived, and the car that had been waiting outside the Pineda house disappeared.
Arch fell back into his armchair.
Patricia was surveying the dark corridor through a crack in the slightly opened door and Jeff was nervously pacing around.
A heavy silence filled the room.
Someone was shuffling along the corridor, getting closer.
Mrs Pineda appeared in the door way. ”Do you want some Catalan cream?” she asked.
“No, thanks, Mrs Pineda,” Pat replied politely.
“Mom, have they gone?” asked Arch.
“They? Gone? Who?” She looked at the three of them, confused.
“The robot and the …,” he stared back at her, baffled, but didn't finish the sentence.
“You spend too much time with your gadgets,” said Mrs Pineda a little irritably, and she left the room.
Arch did a quick damage assessment of his equipment.
“They're all fried,” he sighed. “The plastic, metal, even the paper in the server casing is screwed … not totally, just enough to make this whole system useless.”
“Looks like we touched a nerve, didn't we?” Patricia said thoughtfully.
“You don't say,” said Arch sarcastically. ”We have nothing left, so you could say that, yes!”
“Did you hear what he said when he left? ‘Nice work’. What the fuck did he mean by that?” Jeff brooded.
“Dunno,” answered Pat. ”But what he did here was a bit over the top, wasn't it? Willful damage, trespassing … shit!”
“Yeah, but what can we do about it? We were hardly angels either. Trespassing, spying, not to mention damage caused by negligence,” said Jeff, pragmatically.
“I think he knows damn well that can't go to the police, or anyone else, and tell them what happened,” said Arch.
“Well, he certainly clarified the rules of the game,” Pat said, smiling.
“Shut up with the know-it-all crap, Pat,” Arch grumbled.
“What do you mean?” Jeff asked her.
“What I mean is we got in his way, but he didn't want to harm or threaten us. At the same time, he reacted to our move, like chess. We attacked, but he won the battle, no hard feelings. It would probably be for the best if we play smarter, though. Otherwise … check mate.”
Arch looking at her, wide eyed. “What do you mean check mate?”
“I get what you're saying,” said Jeff. “I think it'd be better if we went underground for a while.”
Arch and Pat looked at him, questioningly.
“All right… I mean, just until we figure something out, okay?” Jeff finished.
“Okay, let's do it. Anyway, I've been neglecting my studies lately. Let's forget for a little while,” suggested Arch.
“Alright,” said Pat. “But this is so not over.”
Arch sighed.
***
Chapter 7
University city
Steersman had created a haven when he established his final office. He built his HQ at the science center, in the upper story of the sprawling monstrosity that had been constructed in the middle of the center. It was built onto an irregular polygonal base, with an asymmetrical interior design; none of the inner or outer walls were parallel to each other. The building ruled imperiously over the center and had been coated with specially designed, spy-proof materials. There were three other similar towers under construction, one of which was almost complete.
For now, everything was upside down. Steersman strictly demanded the highest commitment from companies, from staff, from everybody. When he entrusted duties to a member of his staff, he didn't let them deal with anything else at all. He had one requirement: perfection. He imposed tough deadlines, but always made sure that they was sustainable. He asked his staff what they needed and – no matter what it was – they always got it no later than the following day.
His methods dictated an insane pace, even for him. Although he was able to cope with the pressure, some things gave him a headache. Contrary to his expectations, there were problems getting the global public accept the DCG drive. He had to admit that he'd been a bit naive in assessing the judgment of the man in the street. He had always suspected that the introduction of the device would be painful, but he hadn't foreseen that a convoluted combination of shortsightedness and self-interest would stand so strongly in the way of his plans. Such issues urged him to take more and more determined steps to end the endlessly stupid game of the power plays.
Political qualms abounded in Europe, Asia and North America regarding the long term effects of the new technology. Of course, in the long term one thing was sure: they would lose all background support from the biggest industrial concerns, the role of which would be drastically cut in the global economic arena.
Sean Steersman had been in constant danger and it had become even more dangerous and more real since he had started DCG technology production. Since then, he had never taken the motivations of those whose interests he was stepping on lightly. On the contrary! He had created a disarming device that had been born after almost half a year of exile, spent in darkness, hidden from the outside world. Only Karen had seen it. Poor Karen. She had shown such loyalty and support during that period, a loyalty that Steersman could never repay. To lighten her load he had passed responsibility for city construction to her new assistant Patrick Castillo, a young civil engineer.
Whatever doubts the launch of the new power device had caused, there were a few pleasant surprises, as well. Alongside countries that were tangled up in systems of democracy with long and venerable pasts, there were states that quickly recognized the potential of the situation and took quick steps to be a part of it. Among emerging, quickly developing nations were those ruled by cults of personal dictatorship under the twisted label of ‘freedom’. The common thought amongst them was openness to the possibility of new ideas, even if it was the result of differing motivations.
The states of South Africa and in South America were especially keen to take a pioneering role, and also keen to provide themselves with the most cutting edge technology in the world. They openly rejoiced that developed countries were refusing the opportunity, thereby helping them to get a step ahead. There was even a case of an eminent head of state openly laughing on state television at how easy it all was.
Steersman did not expect anyone to make the first move and he started his own vehicle development program. Moreover, he was planning for the future. Research projects were lining up by the hundreds in his mind, and he even designed production systems around development.
Apart from factors that were caused by outside interference, he was constantly contending with two internal problems that kept arising: replenishing raw material stocks, and finding the right minds for research and development programs. The latter problem was quickly solved by luring away a few senior engineers and scientists from companies already established in Excolopolis, but in the long term he knew it wasn't a sustainable solution. His first thought was to use education as a solution.
“Sean, do you mind if I make an observation?” asked Karen, while taking a peek at one of the robots that were resting peacefully in each corner of the office. Sometimes she was sure that she could see them moving slightly, as if they were having a bad dream. It gave her the creeps.
“Go on,” answered Steersman from behind a table that looked more like a console, its surface divided into screens and touch fields. He was drawing some symbols onto one of them.
“BrightLogic Technologies i
sn't too happy with us for hijacking their test engineers,” said Karen.
Steersman sighed and stopped what he was doing.
“Yes, I know. I'll send them couple of vehicles from the first series,” he said, casually dismissing the problem.
“I'm sure they'll be happy with that,” said Karen drily.
“Karen,” Steersman said, suddenly changing the tone. “What university connections do you have?”
“Well, mainly with directors of some of the Japanese, Korean and Singaporean universities … and with a couple of North American and European Institutions,” said Karen, looking at him. Steersman seemed to be mulling over something. “Why?”
“Which one do you think would be the best candidate to manage the University district.”
“University district? Manage?” Karen looked puzzled.
“Natural sciences and engineering faculties, in a small city sized area.”
Karen still had occasion to shoot odd looks at her boss every now and again, and this was one of them.
“I don't want unnecessary brain drain in the city. We are going to need a supply of highly trained experts for our work in the near future,” he continued.
“Kazuma Hashimoto. I think he'd be suitable,” she said finally, after some thought.
“Do you think he'll be able to see me tomorrow?”
“I'll organize his flights from Japan,” said Karen. “What will the University be called?” she asked knowing that more often than not, the name was last on his list of priorities.
“Prime Earth University of Science and Technology.”
“What!” she blurted out in surprise.
Research center
Kazuma Hashimoto's plane landed at dawn on a private airstrip not far from the city limits. As he had left Japan at dawn that day the meeting was scheduled for the evening, leaving him time to rest and enjoy the hospitality of the Four Seasons hotel.
Sean Steersman was to welcome the world renowned professor for dinner in his new office at seven that evening.
*
Steersman had set the bar pretty high when he designed the science center. Out of almost sixteen square kilometers more than half, roughly nine million square meters, had been constructed on. Apart from the towers, the entire complex was underground. Essentially, it was made up of a total of seven major and thirteen minor research centers, two manufacturing plants, a logistics center, warehouses and hangars, as well as connecting hallways and corridors. It was an architectural freak.
He had already visited the science center early that morning. It was impossible to traverse the entire site on foot, so he had taken an electric shuttle along one of the underground corridors, where a high-speed elevator had delivered him directly from the office level. From the spacious gray-and-white patterned hall, entrances opened out to all existing and future tower sites, but for the time being it seemed as bleak and bright as an enormous concrete shell.
Sooner or later, tens or even hundreds of thousands would be working there, carrying out research, experimenting, building prototypes, and of course preparing highly detailed plans for mass production. To supply staff with such huge amounts materials without downtime required a massive and precise logistics organization. The powerhouse behind the supply system was the distribution center.
To date, only two research groups had moved in. One of them – the division in charge of ground level vehicle development – was testing future passenger and freight vehicles built with DCG drives; the other, an energy technology division, carried out energy resource research looking into opportunities for further energy transmission. For the present, they were both focused on investigating new applications for the DCG spheres.
Steersman rolled along a wide corridor, connecting the service units, in the main block that housed the seven major research departments. The logistics center operated in the middle of the main block, where shipments from all over the world were reviewed, separated and sorted according to destination. Equipment was arriving round the clock, the endless lines of delivery trucks waiting above ground to deliver their cargo. Each delivery was signed in on the ground level of the distribution center, underwent decontamination, then the delivery contents were checked in a scanning tunnel. If the contents matched the procurement database and complied with safety regulations, then the shipment was sealed and lowered into the underground complex. At that point each incoming shipment was sent on to be distributed to each department via the internal transport system. The main block was the only area where traffic was continuous, cavalcades of equipment giving it the aspect of a long-established science center.
Steersman parked in front of the vehicle development unit. Research unit leader Alec Samuelson, seeing Steersman at the entrance of the laboratory, hurried towards him, gesturing excitedly. He was a short energetic man, who spoke with a strained quality, as if he were trying not to let his tongue get away on him.
“Mr Steersman, good morning!” he greeted.
“Good morning, Alec. How far did you get, overnight?”
“I have some good news, Mr Steersman. We've found solutions to two critical weaknesses in the device in terms of control,” he said, referring to the problems that the DGC drives had been experiencing when applied to every day use.
“I'm all ears,” said Steersman expectantly.
“The first problem was that the device was able to decelerate to zero velocity within a split second; a bit like a man hitting a brick wall, if you follow me. The other problem was that the device could turn ninety degrees quite suddenly, a useful thing while parking at slow speeds, but catastrophic at higher speeds. In both cases, electronic systems will be able to control the lamellas. Direction will be controlled with horizontally placed lamellas and braking forces will be covered by vertical lamellas. With these issue rectified we now have everything required for safe driving.”
“Have you installed the drive into a vehicle yet?”
“We are working on it right now. It shouldn't take long,” Samuelson answered. “However, there are still many details missing that will be required for mass production. This is just a working shell. There is nothing around it, no chassis, no body … no interior.” Samuelson looked worried.
“The vehicle interior will be delivered by a contracted supplier as a completely encapsulated pod system. In the interior pod, all amenities and functional tools will be pre-installed: internal linings, seats, security systems, framework reinforcement and crash cushioning foam. We only need to prepare the frame to accept this pod, with power supply, etc. I've made all of the specifications available in the CCI system.”
“Excellent! That means we'll be ready very soon,” said Alec. “When will we receive a test sample of the interior pods?”
“We're still waiting for the frame to be functionally perfect, but they should be here within the hour,” said Steersman.
“Fantastic! Should we plan for one vehicle size?” asked Samuelson,
“Mass production will start with a male and a female design, each differing in size. Production vehicles will initially be made available to the consumer in three colors.”
“I see.”
“Talk to Jamie Ryder. He's in charge of vehicle production.”
Alec nodded. “Yes, he's already paid us a visit.”
“The best idea would be to get him involved at the developmental stage. The smoother the transition to mass production, the fewer problems we'll have.”
“If the database contains the final parameters and we receive the pods, then we can build the prototype immediately. We'll then go over it with Mr Ryder.”
“I need you to enter every detail of every event into the shift report, as soon as possible, at the end of each shift. Enter the report into the CCI database, along with all development papers, videos and simulations. I won't tolerate failure to do so,” said Steersman.
“Of course. I've already prepared the documentation. I have not yet accustomed myself to the administration side of my respo
nsibilities, but it won't be a problem,” said Samuelson.
“This is not administration! The CCI database is a record of the full history of development and research, including all errors, dead ends, and end results, whether successful or not. From the logs, the central cognitive intelligence system will make conclusions and give us invaluable suggestions. The more information we have, the more useful the resulting data will be to us. This is why I can't allow anyone, anyone working in this center, to leave any experience unrecorded,” he said sternly.
“Okay, That's clear. It will be incredibly important,” Samuelson agreed, sheepishly.
“The interior pods will arrive shortly. Look through the plans!” said Steersman over his shoulder, as he was leaving.
“Yes, Mr Steersman.”
Steersman went further into the main block and contacted Karen over the inter-com network.
“Karen, please call the company supplying the interior pods and tell them I need ten samples of each design within the hour; and please tell logistics that it is a priority delivery! Get them to deal with it as soon as it arrives! ” he said.
“All right,” Karen replied.
“What is the situation in the city? How is your assistant getting on?” Steersman asked.
“He's coping well. The Diamond Hall auditorium has just been completed,” said Karen.
“Okay, I'll have a word with him later.”
“I've passed event management duties over to him as well. He loves it. He's already organized the Vienna Philharmonic to come in three weeks time and perform for several nights. So far, I'm happy with Patrick's work, but you know me, always looking for perfection.”
“Yes, always. That's why I chose you, Karen.”
“And how is the car production coming along?” asked Karen.
“It's about to start. In three weeks, we'll even be able to go to a concert in one of them if you like,” he replied.
Excolopolis_Poles of Enforcement Page 11
