He moved a bunch of unopened boxes off the bed and out into the living room. Next, he put his suitcases on the bed with the intent of unpacking them into the closet.
The closet was full of more electronic supplies.
Emmanuel moved a pile of unopened boxes from the closet out to the living room, stacking them on top of the ones from the bed. Then hung his clothes in the closet. To his relief a dresser in the bedroom, though covered with electronic supplies, had empty drawers. He put the rest of his clothes in there. Through the dint of careful restacking of boxes and equipment in the room, he managed to clear enough space to walk around the bed without disturbing what looked like an electronics workstation, covered with soldering equipment, circuit boards, and electronic components.
Moving back out into the living room, Emmanuel checked on Kaem. The boy was deeply asleep.
Even with his eyes closed, he looked exhausted.
Kaem’s phone started ringing. Emmanuel promptly picked it up and answered it, trying to keep it from waking Kaem.
It was Bana. Why’s she bothering Kaem? he wondered. When Emmanuel answered, he spoke quietly, “Hi, Bana, what do you need?”
“You’re answering Kaem’s phone for him? Are you his secretary now?”
“More like his nurse. The gene therapy’s taken it out of him.”
“Oh…” After a long pause, Bana spoke, her voice breaking. “Is he okay?”
How quickly she changes from the girl who constantly digs at her brother to the sister who loves him, Emmanuel thought. He said, “Kaem thinks it’s just because he’s very anemic. I’m worried it has something to do with the loss of some of his white cells during the leukapheresis.”
“I thought he got a transfusion?”
“He did, but it wasn’t as much blood as he usually gets. I didn’t know it, but the ‘units’ of red blood cells they transfuse aren’t necessarily the same size. The one he got turned out to be smaller than usual.”
“Isn’t he making his own blood now?”
“His doctor says it took the lab longer than usual to insert the new hemoglobin genes into his HSCs. He just got his cells back yesterday and they won’t be making new blood for a while yet.”
Voice trembling, Bana asked in a near whisper, “Is he gonna be okay Daddy?”
“Sure, honey. Don’t worry,” Emmanuel said, even though he was agonizing about it himself.
“Tell him… When he’s awake, tell him I got into WVU. Tell him thanks.”
“Congratulations Bana!” Emmanuel said excitedly. “That’s great. But Kaem didn’t get you into WVU, you did that yourself!”
“Kaem made it possible, Dad.”
Emmanuel heard a little sob at the other end of the line. “What’s the matter?”
“I was going to tell him to get on the stick and send me the tuition! I’m… such a terrible person!”
Emmanuel wiped at his eye. “He would’ve loved this call, and been excited to send the tuition. He’s… he’s doing good down here Bana. This company he’s working for does have an amazing product. And they’re trying to do good things for the world. Believe it or not, they hired an old washed up chemist like me to try to figure out how to clean up some toxic waste on the land they’re buying.”
“You got a job?!”
“Uh-huh,” Emmanuel said, absurdly proud to have a job that wasn’t temporary and was even in his field. Even though he thought it was only because his son put in a good word for him.
“They’re buying land contaminated with toxic waste?”
“Yes. Not because it’s cheap, even though it is, but because they think they can clean it up.”
“Oh… that sounds like a really good place to work. It’s sad, I’m wanting to give Kaem a dig about how surprised I am that he’s working in a goody-two-shoes place like that.”
“When he’s better you can give him all the digs you want… Bana, the people he works with,” Emmanuel’s voice broke, “they seem to respect him. It makes me very… proud… and happy… and… and...”
“Me too, Dad. Me too.” Then with a chuckle, she said, “Don’t tell Kaem. Wouldn’t want him thinking I’m going all mushy.”
When Bana hung up, Emmanuel found he was exhausted too. He checked Kaem’s pulse and felt his forehead for a fever, then covered him with a blanket and went to take a nap.
Chapter Seven
Gunnar was down at what he’d taken to thinking of as “Staze East.” He’d taken over one of the farmhouses that had a large metal building out back. The farmer had used it as a place to store and work on his farm equipment. Gunnar had paid a local contractor to flatten and pave a segment of the adjacent field as a workspace. Next to it, they’d used their earth-moving equipment to dig and pour a foundation which the building inspector had approved.
Gunnar had hired some of the local good ol’ boys for today. He was having them unroll his latest Mylar cylinder. This one wasn’t blimp-shaped, measuring only ten meters in diameter but was a full ninety meters in length. Though the plastic wasn’t heavy, there was so much of it that it took a big crew to handle it.
While most of the crew was unrolling and positioning the Mylar, Gunnar and a couple of others uncrated and set up the big centrifugal air blower he planned to use to fill the cylinder. It was rated at 2,500 cubic feet per minute, a hell of a lot more than the 85 cubic feet per minute of the pump he’d used for the first blimp. Since this cylinder would hold about 250,000 cubic feet, it would take somewhere around a hundred minutes to inflate it—a lot better than the forty hours it’d taken to pump up his blimp. Better yet, it ran on electricity, so he wouldn’t be having to bring in fuel.
He’d tested the blower and it did seem to move prodigious quantities of air, though he didn’t have a way to measure its output. “We need to hook the blower up to this,” he told the fellow who was acting as foreman for the crew, pointing at the Mylar balloon’s inflation port.
It took another hour to get them hooked together because the blower had to be moved closer to the port. He sent the crew that weren’t helping with that around to attach inflation tubes to the positioning bags on the balloon. They spent another hour loosely roping the deflated cylinder down to stakes they placed around the location.
Done, Gunnar started up the turbine blower and they all took a long break for lunch while the cylinder filled up. Gunnar’d had hamburgers, French fries and sodas delivered, which the crew—mostly men—appreciated. He’d worried that the women wouldn’t like the limited choice of greasy food but, if they weren’t happy, they didn’t complain to him.
After they’d eaten, he got the crew to unload and hook up the new, very heavy duty stazer Kaem had built for these big projects. Kaem thought the VHD stazer would do the entire cylinder in one go.
Gunnar sure hoped he was right.
Everything was hooked up by the time Gunnar thought the cylinder was inflated enough to have fully assumed its shape—but soft enough to sustain further inflation. He had someone turn off the blower and he quickly closed the inflation port.
After poking it a couple more times and wondering whether he was going to get this right, he powered up the stazer, set it for a two-day Stade, and fired it off.
He could immediately sense that the cylinder’d gone rigid. He thought he sensed it because there’d been slight undulations in the Mylar surface from the gentle breeze blowing over it before the onset of stasis. This made him wonder whether he should have waited for a day without any wind so the Stade wouldn’t have any ripples in it, but he decided he’d probably have had to wait a long time for such a day.
Walking over and patting the blimp, Gunnar turned back to the crew. “Okay. If you’ll notice, the cylinder’s stiff now. I need you guys to help me find any soft spots. So, some of you walk around patting it on all sides down near the ground. A few take a pole from the stack there and gently poke it up higher. The third and biggest group needs to go around tugging on the ropes over the top while someone stands back and watch
es to see if the ropes indent it.”
The team looked puzzled at first, though Gunnar could see the first ones to touch the cylinder looking startled. One said, “It’s hard as a rock! You’re wanting us to look for spots that aren’t hard?”
Gunnar nodded.
The guy said, “What made it get hard?”
“It’s what my company’s new technology is all about.”
“Making things hard?” a guy guffawed, “I can tell you someone who…” he broke off at a look from one of the women on the crew.
Gunnar managed to keep from smiling and answered questions until his helpers understood what was needed. To his immense relief, they didn’t find any soft spots. He knew Kaem was going to be delighted as well, though the diameter of this cylinder was only thirty-three feet, not as big around as the fifty-foot diameter blimp that’d had soft segments on the far side. So even though the cylinder was much longer and had a significantly larger volume, Gunnar didn’t consider the VHD stazer fully tested yet.
Gunnar opened the inflation port and powered up the blower. He ran it for a half a minute, which he’d calculated should give him a wall thickness of about a centimeter, then had the foreman turn off the blower while he closed the inflation port.
He heard one of the men say, “It’s gone soft again.”
When Gunnar looked at it, he could see the Mylar rippling slightly in the breeze again. He got the crew organized to go around using the tubes they’d connected earlier to inflate the small positioners that would center the temporary Stade in the middle of the balloon as well as—because they had reflective surfaces—acting to create windows in the finished cylinder. He himself blew up the big positioner in the middle and the huge one on one end that would serve as doors. I’m gonna be pissed I made so many openings if I have a hard time sealing them when it comes time to generate a vacuum, he thought.
Finally, he stazed the outer layer. It took another hour to unzip the Mylar and pull it off the new Stade cylinder, then carefully roll it all up. It was both amusing and gratifying to hear the crew’s exclamations when they encountered the incredibly-slippery, hard, mirrored surface of the Stade they’d revealed. They were pretty distracted by their squatty, funhouse-mirror reflections on the curving surface.
When they asked what the hell it was, he called them all together and explained Stade, getting a lot of dubious looks. He wondered whether telling them about it was going to cause more trouble than it was worth, but Kaem, Gunnar, and Arya had decided it was time to stop treating Stade like it was a secret.
It was getting late, but Gunnar offered overtime wages to get the crew to help him pull the cylinder out to the trough-like foundation in the field next to the asphalt area they’d been working on. It weighed so little he could’ve moved it by himself, but he needed their help to pull the tarp over it and rope it down again.
He hoped the Mylar suppliers worked out a way to make nubby Mylar soon so Staze wouldn’t have to keep covering the mirrored surfaces with tarps to prevent accidents.
As the crew got in their trucks and left, he thought, The inner Stade will vanish in the afternoon, the day after tomorrow. I’ll need that afternoon to staze-weld some bars across the bottom. Then the next day to have the crew come in and lay in some rebar. He checked his calendar; So, I’ll need to schedule the concrete people to come pour the floor into it four days from now. Then get the building inspector to come out and have a look at it the next week.
He shook his head; I wonder if we’ll be able to get him to approve the strongest building ever constructed?
***
Arya looked up when Lee sat down next to her. She and I don’t interact nearly enough, Arya thought. So what if I worry that she’s romantically inclined toward Kaem. Even if we should, we currently don’t have a company policy against romance. And, she reminded herself, I don’t care if she and Kaem hook up because I’m not interested in him and I’m in control of my unreasonable jealousy. She smiled, “Hey, what’s up?”
Lee looked upset. In fact, now that Arya fully looked at her, she seemed distraught. She said, “Do you know if Kaem’s okay? I-I thought he was supposed to be back by now?”
“Um…” Arya said, wanting to tell her that it was inappropriate to inquire about a co-worker’s health. But we’re all friends here… or we should be even if I’m having trouble with the concept. “I don’t know everything that’s going on, but I know it took longer than expected for him to get…” Arya shrugged, “whatever it was that they were going to give him.”
“The gene-modified HSCs?” Lee asked eagerly.
Arya nodded, thinking, Lee cares enough to study Kaem’s disease and know how his treatment’s supposed to work… And, apparently, I don’t care that much. If I did want to be Kaem’s girlfriend, evidently, I’d be a crap one. Arya cleared her throat, “Something like that, yeah. And there’s something about him getting a transfusion that didn’t work very well; I’m not sure why.”
Lee’s eyes filled with tears, “So, he’s not having a reaction?”
Arya stared. A reaction?! That sounds bad! To Lee, she said, “Um, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure his dad would’ve told me.” But now I’m worried too.
“Oh, Arya!” Lee said in something like an extended moan. Sobbing, she threw her arms around Arya.
Thinking, She cares so much more about Kaem than I do, Arya uncomfortably patted the other woman’s back. Even if I did think I loved him, I should step aside for this girl. She said, “I do think he’s gonna be okay. It’s just going to take a little longer is all.”
“Thanks,” Lee said in a muffled voice over Arya’s shoulder. “I’m praying for him and I’m not even religious.”
“No atheists in foxholes,” Arya said, quoting something she’d heard once. Something that didn’t even seem to apply.
Lee pushed back, sniffling and wiping at her eyes. “Was that a joke? ’Cause Kaem doesn’t think you ever joke. I’ll have to tell him.” She sniffed again, “He’ll be happy.”
“Not a joke. Just a stupid quote. He’s right, I’m a stiff, humorless bitch.”
Lee’s eyes widened, “You’re not! You’re nice. I think you care a lot… about all of us. And now it turns out you tell jokes too.”
Arya stared at the other woman, stunned to think that the person—the one she thought of as her rival for the love she didn’t want—thought she was nice.
Lee drew her in for another hug, softly saying, “You’re probably more worried about him than I am.”
Arya couldn’t think of anything to say, but she did feel bad that she didn’t seem to be as anxious about Kaem as Lee was.
Lee pushed back again, pulled a tissue out of a pocket and dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose. “Thanks for reassuring me. I feel better.”
I didn’t reassure her, did I?! Arya thought. Besides, aren’t engineers supposed to be tough and unemotional? They’re not supposed to carry tissues, are they?
Arya was still trying to think of something to say when Lee looked around, saw a waste can, and tossed the tissue in. She said, “I hope I’ve got that out of my system. I’ve been way too emotional since Kaem went in for his treatment. Um, I came over to talk to you about business. Space-Gen’s finished testing the full-sized engine. They do want to build some more test engines, but they’ve decided this one’s good enough that they’re going to go ahead and build an entire first-stage rocket, with integrated tanks and engines.”
Arya felt a rush of relief so strong she couldn’t help letting out a little yelp of joy. A sale’s what I get emotional about? she thought, embarrassed. But a booster with tanks and seven engines would be sixty-eight-million! Sixty-eight-million little friends that’ll solve so many of my… our problems!
Lee didn’t seem to notice Arya’s faux pas, continuing her own thought instead. “They want to build it out of vacuum Stade though. Do you know how Gunnar’s coming with the big vacuum cylinder he’s building?”
“No, let’s call him and fi
nd out.”
A couple of minutes later, Gunnar was giving them a video tour of his new cylindrical Stade. He was excited about it. Worried that he was going to have trouble with the county’s building inspector. Hopeful that he’d be able to get good enough seals to generate a vacuum. And excited that his Mylar fabricator had just called to say they’d succeeded in making nubby Mylar and were sending him a sample. Finished with a description of his status, he asked, “Is Space-Gen going to want us to cast their rocket here? That seems like it’d be crazy. They should have us do it down at their launch facility in Texas or Florida.”
Lee said, “They want to build in Texas. Should I tell them we’ll be able to set up a vacuum casting Stade for them?”
Gunnar rubbed his chin, “I’ll be sure of it in a couple of days… No, I’m sure of it now. Even if I put so many windows in this one that I can’t get it to hold a vacuum, I can just build the next one with a single opening and staze-weld a door over the opening that’s flat enough I can seal it. It can be done.”
Lee said, “If I were you, I’d put an opening at the other end of the cylinder for ventilation. You won’t be able to add one after you’ve cast it.”
Gunnar thought a moment, then said, “Good idea. Thanks. I’ll need a third opening to bring in power and stazing cables. Is Kaem back at work yet? We need to know what he… and, um, Mr. X wants to charge for building a vacuum Stade casting cylinder down in Texas. I’ve got some other questions for him too.”
Arya thought, This Mr. X fiction is hard for Gunnar, but he’s trying. She saw Lee’s frown had returned so she squeezed the girl’s hand below the table. To Gunnar, she said, “He’s not back yet. It’s, uh, just taking longer than expected for him to get back on his feet. He’s pretty much exhausted 24/7 so it might be best if you didn’t bug him. You and I can come up with a price if you’ll get me the costs.”
Radiation Hazard (The Stasis Stories #3) Page 17
