by Bob Blanton
After the clinic, they went back to Catie’s condo, and she set both Sophia and Mrs. Michaels up with specs. She had to have ADI clone their phones from their Internet accounts since the admiral had made them leave their phones behind.
“You use your eyes just like a mouse,” Catie said as she explained how to use the specs. “The specs follow your eyes and highlight where you are when you’re looking in the menu area. If you blink, it selects that option, blink twice and so on.”
“How do you press and hold?” Sophia asked. “Close one eye?”
Catie laughed, “No, you do a short pause between two blinks to hold and just blink again to release.”
“Okay, so if I want to look up services, I just go to the directory and scroll down; how do I scroll?” Mrs. Michaels asked.
“You just look at the end of the list, and it will keep scrolling, it will scroll faster if you look a little farther down.”
“That’s cool,” Sophia said.
“Ah, I see,” said Mrs. Michaels. “I’m seeing medical, dental, hairdresser, masseur; I can’t find a chiropractor.”
“What’s a chiropractor?” Catie asked.
“Someone who adjusts your spine,” Mrs. Michaels said.
“Why would you have someone do that?”
“Oh, I hurt my back years ago playing tennis, and now I have to have it adjusted to keep it from hurting. It’s been bothering me after all that flying yesterday. Not that your lovely plane caused any problems, but the flight before was horrible, and we were in coach.”
“If your back bothers you, you should just go to the clinic. I wish you’d said something before; I probably could have gotten you an appointment with Dr. Sharmila while we were there.”
“Oh, doctors either want to operate or give you pain medication,” Mrs. Michaels said. “I don’t want any of that.”
“She could probably fix your back in just one visit,” Catie said.
“It’s more complicated than that, dear.”
“Mom! Remember what we just had done,” Sophia said.
“Oh right, well it can’t hurt to try,” Mrs. Michaels said. “What did you say her name was?”
Catie walked Mrs. Michaels through how to make an appointment with Dr. Sharmila, then left her and Sophia practicing with their specs, while she continued down to her father’s office. The office was just two blocks down from their condo; Natalia, her shadow followed quietly behind.
“Hi, Daddy,” Catie knocked on his doorjamb. “Are you finally going to tell me what this is all about?”
“Yes, how about that?” Blake asked as he followed Catie into the office.
“Admiral Michaels says that the president and his staff are taking an unhealthy interest in MacKenzie Discoveries. He felt that based on the level of the president’s obsession and the intensity of his demands to discover our secrets, either he would order, or one of his staff would take it upon themselves to do something drastic. The president fired him from the Navy because he was frustrated that his people weren’t keeping up with us. He told me the president even suggested that they steal the design for the Lynx engines.”
“Let them try,” Catie said, her eyes flashing with challenge. “You can’t make them without the heater coils, and we’re the only ones who can make them.”
“That’s the point. How would they be able to extract that information? We saw what the Chinese were willing to do. What would these guys do, especially with so many of our family and friends conveniently located on US soil?”
“What about Grandma and Grandpa McCormack?” Catie gasped.
“They’re on their way to Jamaica,” Marc said. “Fred will fly there to get them and Sam’s sister.”
“Oh good, what about the grans?”
“They weren’t interested in moving, and I don’t think anyone will try to leverage them,” Marc said. “And now that Mack McGinnis is back to his old self, he says he’d love for them to try.”
Catie and Blake laughed at that. “Sounds like him, but if they try something, it’s Agnes they’d better watch out for,” Blake said.
◆ ◆ ◆
“Welcome Admiral Michaels. This is our board. First, my brother, Blake McCormack; he coordinates all of our building activity; he is also one of our top pilots and does pilot training. He is also one of the major shareholders in MacKenzie Discoveries.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, Commander McCormack,” Admiral Michaels said as he extended his hand to Blake.
“I’m just Blake, or Cer Blake, if you want to be formal,” Blake said. “Welcome aboard, sir.”
“Next,” Marc continued around the table, “Fred Linton, another of our pilots; he manages the pilot training and coordinates our production schedules and a few other things you’ll pick up as we go.
“And another pilot, Elizabeth Farmer. As you know, we’ve managed to collect some of the world’s preeminent scientists in the world. Elizabeth, Liz, as she likes to be called, provides support for them by beating on Blake to add to their lab space or me to procure more equipment for them. But more importantly, she coordinates between them, bringing the different fields together when she discovers an overlap in their activity.”
“I’m pleased to meet you,” the admiral said.
“This is Samantha Newman, our lawyer slash diplomat. She’s the one we call up when we need both brains and tact on the problem. She’s our main liaison with the governments of the Cook Islands and of New Zealand. She is also the person we turn to when we need to recruit special talents, like Marcie Sloan, whom you’ve recently dealt with.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you,” the admiral said. “Ms. Sloan was very helpful.”
“Our pleasure,” Samantha said.
“Kalani Kealoha, known more familiarly as Kal, is our head of security, our de facto chief of police, and our labor coordinator,” Marc said as he continued the introductions. “As labor coordinator, he’s guiding the development of our new refugee community, making sure we have the schools they need for themselves as well as their children.”
“A former Marine as I recall,” Admiral Michaels said as he shook Kal’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“Dr. Metra here heads up our clinic as well as our medical research. She’s responsible for the cure we’ve developed for Alzheimer’s and a few other diseases. And before you ask, we are starting to create satellite clinics where we can provide those benefits to other parts of the world.”
“A pleasure,” Admiral Michaels said.
“And last but not least, my daughter, Catie. She is another of our pilots; she coordinates the design of our aircraft and does quite a bit of the design herself. She is also our agriculture coordinator; she has a horticulturist on her staff as well as a couple of agriculture scientists. They’re working to make Delphi City as close to self-sustaining as possible. She is also the self-appointed champion of greenery within the city. She’s designed our parks and coordinated the installation of trees and flowers along the walkways that you see as you move about the city. And besides myself and Blake, she is the other major shareholder in MacKenzie Discoveries.”
“That is most impressive,” the admiral said. “And Catie, I would personally like to thank you for being so helpful with my wife and daughter. They are both much more enthusiastic about being here after meeting you than they were when I first proposed this change.”
“You’re welcome,” Catie said.
“The admiral has agreed to join up and provide insights to the world military and diplomatic situation as well as what prompted him to bring his family here and recommend we do the same for our families,” Marc said. “Admiral.”
“What tipped the balance for me is that the president fired me,” the admiral said. “And he didn’t just dismiss me from the job I was in at the time, but from the service. That is an unusual move even for him. That leads me to believe that someone else is feeding him information and pushing his buttons; prompting him to make
decisions that are not necessarily in the best interest of the country.”
“Who would do something like that?” Samantha asked.
“The recent technology introductions from MacKenzie Discoveries threaten a lot of US interests,” the admiral said. “But if I were going to put money on it, I would say someone in the energy industry. They were big contributors to his campaign, and they have enormous influence. The predictions from key White House advisers are that the changes in the trucking and auto industry will cut the price of oil by twenty percent.”
“So, it’s about money,” Blake said.
“It’s always about money,” the admiral replied. “Now don’t get me wrong, the president is convinced that he’s doing the right thing for America, he’s just getting some bad advice or bad information. And if they’re willing to go to the lengths they have to sway the president’s opinion on this, I’m not sure to what lengths they will go to ensure that something doesn’t get in the way of their agenda.”
“Do you know who it is?” Marc asked.
“No, I don’t,” the admiral replied.
“Did you try to figure out who it was?”
“Spying on the president of the United States is not something I was willing to do, especially with my family at risk,” the admiral said. “I do think that it has to be more than one person. Possibly a group of key leaders in the energy industry is collaborating on a response to the huge changes they see coming.”
“So, any predictions on what he’ll do next?” Blake asked.
“I wouldn’t want to guess,” the admiral said. “But I predict that the president will not be willing for the US just sit on the sidelines while you change the world.”
The board and the admiral spent another hour discussing what the admiral knew and suspected before Marc called an end to the meeting.
“We have a board meeting in one and a half weeks. At that time, we will revisit the discussion,” Marc said. “In the meantime, I want everyone to think about what we’ve discussed here and be prepared to offer their opinion and insight into what we will be facing.”
Chapter 19
Space Station Tourist
“How is everybody doing back there?” Catie asked over the Lynx intercom.
“We’re just fine,” Linda answered. “I don’t think anybody threw up.”
“Good, I was going to wait until someone cleaned it up before I came back.”
“Oh, come back here so I can swat you one,” Linda said.
“I’m on my way.” Catie and Liz made their way into the main cabin of the Lynx.
They were in microgravity, in orbit next to Delphi Station’s new hub. The board had decided that they would come and watch as the inner shell of the hub was extruded. Catie had argued successfully to have her mother and Jason included on the trip. Jason had seen the hub during his many Oryx flights ferrying up cargo, but this would be the first time he would actually be able to examine it up close, and his first time to actually walk in space. He’d done a lot of microgravity work, but had never been outside the Oryx. They were upside down, looking down on the hub and the extrusion form for the inner hull.
“Liz will explain what’s going to happen,” Marc said. “Those of us who have heard this can stand in the back so the new people can be up front.”
Linda and Jason floated up to the front and sat on the two forward couches and strapped themselves down. Natalia took the one across the aisle from them. She was ostensibly there to provide security, but she was really there because she thought it would be fun.
“Feel free to interrupt with questions,” Liz said. “If you look on the display, you can see the large ring that’s floating above the hub. It is the form that we’ll be using to make the inner hull. It’s actually two rings. The inner ring is one hundred eighty meters in diameter on its outside; the outer one just a few centimeters bigger on the inside. The shell will be formed between them. They’re made of a polysteel and then coated with a material, so they’re non-conductive and non-stick. They are thirty centimeters tall, and there are wheels in the bottom that will start pushing the hull out of the form once we start the process. They’re temporarily held together at the bottom by a layer of foam. That will get pushed down by the hull once we start the extrusion.”
“How did you make them?” Jason asked.
“I’ll let Catie explain since it was her idea.”
“It was done with a similar process,” Catie said. “But the form was rotated with the plasma gun. Once it reached a stable rotation speed, the gun was turned on, and the material started to extrude. The construction crew latched onto the first part of the extrusion and anchored it to another big blob of material, so it was stable. The extrusion continued until it circled back on itself. The form just slides over the beginning piece allowing them to be fused together, then the plasma guns and the foam guns shut down.”
“Cool,” Jason said.
“You can see the four plasma guns that will be used to deposit the polysteel to make the shell, they’re each ninety degrees apart around the form,” Liz continued. “There are two big blobs of material, one of petroleum and the other a slurry oil and iron. They’re inside the hub and have been carefully placed so that the new inner hull will slide around them with plenty of clearance. They’re the anchor for the whole process as well as the material supply. Each has a pump with a heating system that will melt the material and pump it up to the plasma guns.”
“Why do you have to melt it?” Linda asked. “Isn’t oil liquid?”
“Normally, it is,” Catie said. “But in space, everything radiates its heat away. So, unless it’s being heated by the sun and even then, only half of it gets heated, it radiates most of its heat and reaches an equilibrium between what it’s absorbing from the sun and what it’s radiating. Which means it freezes.”
Linda nodded her head and smiled at Catie. “Thank you.”
“Now we’re about to start. The guns will start rotating, and when they’re up to speed and are stable, they’ll start depositing the material. They’re raised up a few millimeters per rotation until they’ve filled the form. Then the wheels will engage and start extruding the hull a few millimeters per rotation.”
“Here they go!” Catie said as the guns started to rotate. “Now those of you who want to go out and see them up close need to put on your exosuits and helmets.”
“I’m fine right here,” Linda said.
Jason immediately started to put on his exosuit, as did Marc, Kal, and Fred. They hadn’t had a chance to walk in space. Blake had made a few walks while setting up the process and was happy to stay in the cabin and keep Linda company. Liz, Catie, and Natalia suited up to do the tour and help the first-time spacewalkers out.
They went out the airlock to the cargo bay, where the cargo door was open. Liz had each of them attach a safety line and assigned each an experienced spacewalker. Catie took her dad, Liz took Fred, and Natalia took Kal. Jason had enough microgravity experience that he was able to take care of himself. Kal was not particularly happy when he was assigned Natalia; he was trying to remember if he’d been too hard on her during one of the training sessions recently, given that this would be the perfect opportunity for her to get even. At least with Liz, he knew she wouldn’t really hurt him.
They all practiced moving around using their thrusters to maneuver, learning how to stop. When Liz felt they were skilled enough that it was unlikely they would get tangled up in the plasma guns, she led them over to the rotating guns where they could watch the shell coming out of the form.
“Wow, those guns are really slow,” Jason said.
“They only lay two millimeters of material down per pass, the guns are rotating at two-point-five revolutions per minute, so the hull is being extruded at twenty millimeters per minute.”
“How long does it take to do the whole thing?”
“Three-and-a-half days,” Liz answered.
“We’re not staying up here the whole time, are we?” J
ason asked.
“No, just long enough to say we were here,” Liz said. “We can go back inside anytime you’re ready.”
When they got back to the main cabin, Blake and Linda were sipping something from a plastic bag.
“What have you guys got there?” Marc asked.
“Champagne,” Blake said.
Marc rolled his eyes. “Oh, brother.”
“That’s right, I am your brother, and we’re toasting to the success of your project.”
“Did you bring enough for everybody?”
“Of course, I’m always well prepared,” Blake pointed to the galley, “in the refrigerator.”
“I’m so glad I ended up with you guys,” Jason said. “Just think I could be at the Air Force Academy being yelled at by an upperclassman, probably doing pushups while singing the academy fight song.”
“And you get to fly way cooler jets than they have,” Catie added.
“That’s for sure. When are you going to let me fly the Lynx?” he asked.
“Tell you what. I’ll give you your first chance at the controls when we hit the atmosphere,” Catie said.
“Thanks.”
Chapter 20
Board Meeting – Aug 19th
“I call this meeting to order,” Marc announced. “Admiral Michaels will be joining us soon, and I’d like to review his position and set some ground rules. He knows we’re trying to create a better Earth by developing and sharing technologies in such a way as to equalize the income levels across nations. He does not, nor do I want him to know about the Sakira. He clearly suspects we have some access to technology or information that has helped us get where we are, but he does not know what it is. I have told him that I do not intend to share everything with him. Any questions?”
“Do you trust him?” Samantha asked.
“Mostly,” Marc said. “But only so much. He could be a spy, placed here by the president to exploit our past relationship, but I don’t’ think so.”
“What about the capabilities of the Foxes, or some of our other weapons technology?” Catie asked.
