“I’ll do so when the entire crew is assembled,” responded Keung.
“Would it not be better if you reviewed the available options first?”
“No,” said Chao, then paused for a second and added, “why would you think that?”
“I have been reviewing command and control procedures in advance of this action. It seems prudent for you to consider all options and exclude those you reject before the crew has access.”
The Commander cocked his head, curious at the daemon’s logic. “Same question. Why? Why would I want to limit my crew’s available information?”
“One or more of the crew could become attached to a scenario you had previously rejected.”
“And?” said Keung.
The face broke apart and reformed several times before finally stabilizing. “In that eventuality, you would be faced with ordering your crew to execute a plan with which they disagreed.”
“Perhaps,” said Keung absently, “but I trust them to trust my judgement.” Chao pointed at the daemon, “In addition, your approach fails to consider an equally likely scenario. My crew’s preferred approach might have merits I had overlooked. Bottom line, in most situations, more information is better. Make a note of that, daemon.”
Chao picked up his hand terminal and slipped it into his pants pocket. He walked out the bedroom door and paused by the main entrance to his quarters. The daemon had followed him with its massive face appearing on both the primary viewing screen and the much smaller workstation screen. The commander was about to activate his door when he turned around and said, “I get the sense you are considering something. What is it?”
“Your approach differs materially from most established theoretical command and control texts. I was considering the possibility that you might be in error.”
Keung took a step toward the larger screen. “And what did you decide?”
“I decided that theoretical knowledge is no substitute for practical knowledge. In addition, you have completed Captain Omandi’s succession protocol, thus I am obligated to defer to you.”
“How comforting,” grumbled Chao, then turned back toward the door.
“However,” said the daemon, “I would suggest that, at a minimum, you speak with Lt. Commander Patel since all of the preferred scenarios require her assistance.”
Keung considered this for a moment, then said, “Good idea. I’ve not met her before and it’s probably best I do so privately.” He walked to the small couch, sat down, and gestured to the screen. “I’ll have you review all the preferred options so she can identify any engineering challenges.” Chao raised a finger and pointed at the daemon. “However, I still want you to present all options, that pass Patel’s engineering assessment, to the entire team, once we’re done. Is that understood?”
“It is understood,” replied the daemon.
“Excellent, now please connect me with Karishma Patel.”
Light blazed around her and Karishma sat up with a start. She blinked several times as her eyes adjusted, then screamed.
“Commander Keung has requested a video conference to discuss Omandi recovery scenarios,” said the daemon. Its red eyes narrowed as they focused on her and it asked, “Are you prepared for me to complete the connection?”
Karishma shook her head, as if clearing an errant dream, then looked down at her t-shirt and underwear. She pulled on the bedsheets she’d kicked off and gathered them up around her waist. “I need a few minutes to get dressed.”
“You are sufficiently dressed for this communication,” said the daemon.
Karishma glanced at her t-shirt again. It bore the image of a stylized spaceship, and the words What the Frak? were emblazoned beneath. “No, I am decidedly not dressed for—” She felt her mouth fall open as her room’s display screen flashed once. The young woman raised a hand, “Uh, hello. You must be Commander Keung?” she said. “It’s good to finally meet you, sir. I, uh, I’m sorry for the state of my—”
Chao shook his head. “It’s fine, Karishma. I’m the one who needs to apologize. I’m sorry for interrupting your sleep.” He smiled at her. “I do like your shirt, though. I must have watched that series twenty times growing up.”
Karishma blushed. “I have a closet full of stuff like this, sir. I just put them on in alphabetical order based on the first letter of whatever’s written on them. It’s actually pretty pathetic.” She nodded at him. “Where did you get the nifty uniform?”
“From what I’ve been told, Ensign Sorenson designed them based on an amalgam of options available in the printer’s database.” He noted her wistful expression and swiped on his hand terminal. Karishma glanced left as a chime could be heard from that direction. “I just sent you the design so you can print your own.” He paused. “I assume you have fully equipped printers there, right?”
Karishma laughed. “Yes sir, I do. I’ve been printing a starship out of materials ranging from carbon fiber to depleted uranium. I think I can handle a tunic and some pants.” She noticed the Commander’s smirk and hastened to add, “Sir.”
“I definitely deserved that, Lt. Commander, but speaking of the Bladerunner, I assume you know we are on a rather rigid time schedule with a severe late penalty.”
Patel laughed again, “I’d say so, sir. Extinction is definitely a pretty stiff fine, but I won’t be the weak link in that chain.” She saw him arch an eyebrow, then lifted her chin. “The Bladerunner is finished, sir! I made my final inspections last night.”
“Really?” he asked surprised, “Damien was emphatic in his advice that I leave you to your work, which is why I’ve not contacted you before now. We didn’t expect completion for another five days. How did you manage it?”
“I’m a miracle worker, sir,” she said without a hint of humor.
Chao gave a soft chuckle, “Yes, so I’ve been led to understand. How is she, the Bladerunner I mean?”
Karishma’s entire face lit up and she unconsciously shifted the sheets and swiveled her legs beneath her. She straightened and said, “She’s gorgeous sir. She’s strong and smart and true. Hell, if she were a man, I’d marry her.”
“That’s one hell of a testament, Lt. Commander Patel, and quite deserved, I’m sure. After all, it’s your ship that’s going to help us save the human race.”
“Our ship, sir. She’s ours,” corrected Karishma. “Now, the scary-ass daemon I warned Doctor Howard not to make said you wanted to discuss ways to rescue our captain.”
Commander Keung nodded. “Yes, apparently there are a few different options, but all require you, so I hope you’ve still got a few miracles up the sleeves of that Battlestar Galactica teeshirt of yours.”
She grinned. “I only used one sleeve on Bladerunner, sir.” She raised an arm. “This one’s chockablock full of miracles. Whatcha need?”
Karishma’s screen shifted to reveal both Commander Keung and the daemon. Chao said, “Daemon, review preferred extraction scenarios force ranked by percentage of likely success.”
Chapter 39
The Doctor Lies
James reached up to scratch the back of his neck, just above his uniform’s collar. “Wow, that’s a lot to take in. I’ve got a few questions, Commander, if you don’t mind?” Keung quirked a smile and inclined his head to the pilot. “Ok,” continued Branson, “First, if what you just described are the most viable five options, I’d really love to hear about the other two thousand or so that were shite. Second—”
“I don’t know anything about those two thousand, Lt. Branson, because I wasn’t briefed on them,” interrupted Karishma. “According to Howard’s daemon, all but seven involved a high probability of death or failure.”
“Death or failure,” snickered the pilot, “so, love, perhaps you could fill me in on the scenarios where death doesn’t accompany failure?”
The young Indian woman glared at him from the command deck’s primary display screen. “I suppose,” she said slowly, “it all depends on which of us might be dead. I can
think of one person, in particular, whose death might be considered a success. However, if you would stop interrupting me every five minutes with your inane questions, I would have already explained.” James waved a hand noncommittally and the chief engineer continued, “Of the seven high probability options the daemon provided to Commander Keung, two of them were impractical due to engineering constraints. The singularity gates in those scenarios simply wouldn’t be stable. Once I explained that to the daemon, it threw those two scenarios into the other bucket.”
“That would be the bucket of shite bucket?” asked James, “The one with the two thousand options we haven’t heard about, ya?”
Karishma narrowed her eyes. “I think you just like saying shite because you believe it makes you sound charming and roguish. It doesn’t. It just makes you look childish and stupid.”
“Well, that’s a matter of opinion now isn’t it, love?” James tried to lock eyes with Misha but she pointedly avoided his gaze. “Anyway,” he said, “to my second question, how did you get that uniform and when will the Bladerunner be finished?”
“I sent her the designs,” said Keung.
“You really look great, Karishma” offered Linnea smiling, “very put together, from top to bottom.”
“Thank you,” said the engineer, returning Linnea’s smile. “It’s amazing what some sleep, a hot shower, and reestablishing a relationship with one’s hairbrush can do for a woman’s appearance.” She turned back to Branson and her smile faded. “It’s Lt. Commander Love to you, Lieutenant, and that was two questions you asked, not one. It’s all right though, you are an exceptional pilot, so I don’t need you to be good at math.” Misha snorted quietly, which garnered her a frown from Branson, as Karishma continued. “Obviously, Commander Keung already answered your first question. To your second, as I told the commander not three hours ago, all tier 1 priorities for the Bladerunner are now complete. There are zero Sev 1 errors in her primary systems. All Sev 2 & 3 errors will be cleared forty-eight hours prior to Nerr’ath’s deadline. Finally, I even expect most tier 2 priorities will be complete by launch, as well.”
Branson stared at her but said nothing for several seconds. Finally a broad grin spread across his face and he clapped his hands together. “Well, that is just terrific news, Lt. Commander Patel.” He saw her eyes narrow and James held up both hands. “No, no, I’m being honest, sir. I’m not poking fun. I have some idea of the complexities you must be dealing with, having poured through Bladerunner’s operating logs and manuals. They’re really compl—”
“You’ve what?” she yelled, and walked closer to whatever camera had been transmitting her image. “How did you get access to those manuals?”
“We’ve all been given access, Karishma,” said Chao. “It happened shortly after our return from Luna.”
“Something caused a trigger-lock to release,” offered Misha. “Do you remember doing anything in particular around that time?”
The chief engineer lifted both hands, and was about to run her fingers through her previously wild hair, when she remembered it was neatly pulled back into a tail. With obvious effort she crossed her hands and said softly, “I filed a progress report that indicated our readiness status as green. It had always been yellow or red before.” She sighed. “Now that I think about it, I do recall Coleman mentioning something about a trigger-lock having been satisfied, but I believe I was falling asleep at the time.”
“Your recollections are correct, Lt. Commander,” said Coleman. “You had rested your head on the secondary command console in the Bladerunner captain’s salon. I complimented you on your achievement and stated that trigger-lock five of seven had been released. All operating parameters and manuals were then made available to each crew member based on his or her responsibilities. It is understandable that you did not recall this. I believe your brainwaves were already shifting toward delta at the time.”
“So all of you have access?” she confirmed, looking somewhat deflated.
Everyone nodded. Linnea asked, “Why does that bother you, sir?”
Karishma shook her head. “It’s stupid, forget it.”
“Nothing that helps us know each other better is stupid,” chimed in Annchi, “I have no specific tactical experience, but the scenarios we just reviewed seem highly suspect to me. Honestly, it scares me to death that those are our best options, especially since each relies on the one member of this crew who none of us has even met in person. All of our options require Lt. Commander Patel to get us to Captain Omandi and then get us out. I, for one, would like to assess what you think is stupid.”
Silence blanketed the room for several beats, and Karishma stared at Chao. He nodded. “She may be my daughter, but I never agree with her if I do not believe her points are valid. In this case, they are.”
Karishma shook her head and inhaled. “Fine, it’s just that I’ve been working on Bladerunner, by myself, for almost a year. Hell, until Captain Omandi contacted me, the only human being I talked to, in all that time, was Doctor Howard. I’ve poured everything I am into this ship. My blood runs through every optical cable and conduit.” She sighed, “I just wanted to show her off to you guys is all. You’ve been out doing things. Now, you are going off to rescue the captain…meanwhile I’ll be sitting behind a screen…again.”
“Rescuing the captain wouldn’t do us much good,” said Richard, “if we didn’t have a ship ready to launch in a week.”
“Not just a ship,” said James, “an FTL capable ship.” He stood, opened his arms and spun around, “Which, in case anyone didn’t know, is a big fecking deal.” He turned to Karishma and pointed at her. “It’s not like the big brains on Earth have been sitting around for decades going, hmm, should we build a ship capable of warping space-time and allowing us to traverse vast distances…nah, that’s silly. Let’s just keep lighting shite on fire and blowing it out our ship’s arsehole to make it go.” He shook his head in apparent disbelief, then said, “Karishma, you’re too close to this, love. What you’ve—” He broke off, drew his mouth to a line then nodded to himself. “Lt. Commander Patel, what you’ve done in less than a year is nothing short of astonishing. I’m saying this because maybe by my doing so you will believe it. Everyone knows I was born to speak all mirth and no matter.”
“I’ll attest to that,” offered Misha.
“Second,” chimed Linnea.
James pointed. “See, and I’d be the last one to deny it. So, things have to be extraordinary indeed for me to take something seriously and I take you seriously, Lt. Commander, because you’ve brought forth a miracle. Believe me, I desperately want to see the Bladerunner. I really do, but when that happens, it won’t be one whit less brilliant for my having read a few fecking manuals. There weren’t even any pictures. I mean who creates operating manuals without pictures?”
Linnea gave a soft laugh, then said, “Who creates manuals like that? Someone who knew his chief engineer would want to share such a great reveal with her crewmates.”
“Fucking Howard,” grumbled Misha, then added, “I’ve said it before, but if he weren’t dead I’d—”
“So you’ve not seen her, the Bladerunner, I mean?” asked Karishma, and no one could suppress their smiles.
“No,” said Damien, “the transmitted documents contained text and console representations. There were no internal or external photographs or sketches included. In point of fact, I found it odd and asked Coleman about such descriptions. He said—”
“All photographs and visual descriptions are trigger-locked by Howard-Prime,” interjected Coleman.
“Yes, he said that,” snickered Damien.
Karishma nodded and dragged a hand across her nose, then sniffed. “Thanks for that, all of you.” She focused on James and squinted. “Even you, or especially you, I can’t decide. You are so incredibly infuriating one moment and endearing the next.”
“He’s an enigma,” offered Misha.
“I am at that, love,” said James, “I am at that.�
�� He reseated himself then spun his chair to face Chao. “So, Commander, are we going to vote, then? On the scenarios, I mean? How much time do we have before Omandi meets with those U.N. bastards, anyway?”
“One hour, thirteen minutes, and fifty-two seconds,” intoned the daemon.
James frowned. “I thought that wasn’t supposed to be listening to us? The infernal thing gives me the willies.”
Chao said, “I’ve temporarily relaxed that constraint. The daemon will be coordinating insertion and extraction with Karishma. In addition, it is the only way we will know when Omandi is in position.” He paused, then said, “Remember all those hundreds of scenarios where some of us die?” Branson nodded. “Well, those were scenarios where we didn’t use the daemon for coordination. As for your last question, no, we will not be voting. This is not a democracy. This is a dictatorship and, until I happily give it back to Captain Omandi, the accountability is mine. We will go with scenario two, unless anyone cares to try and persuade me otherwise.”
No one said anything, but Chao nodded at Damien. “You don’t seem happy with the choice. Now’s the time to speak up.”
“Perhaps we should discuss it in private?” asked the Android.
“No, we will discuss any and all concerns here and now,” said Chao curtly. “I will listen intently and consider carefully whatever is brought up. I will also make the final decision and expect everyone to execute based on that decision.”
Damien stood and walked forward to stand between the large display screen and the rest of the crew. “It seems,” he began, “that this option is the most risky because it relies on facts that are not in evidence.”
“Go on,” said Keung.
Damien pointed to Karishma. “We asked her to make a singularity gate to Bladerunner and she said we couldn’t because there was too much rock. You are clearly ignoring that constraint, Commander, and expecting that she and Howard’s daemon can gate us from this Kansas detention center to her location. I’d like to point out the obvious. Captain Omandi is in a nuclear silo. Nuclear silos are underground. In short, this entire scenario is predicated on Karishma being wrong in her assessment that singularity gates cannot form through dense materials like rock. It seems incongruous to me that we should trust her to build an entire starship, but not trust her on gate physics. I think any of the other options are better because they rely on an assault team deploying from Galileo. We’ve flown that shuttle. It’s a known factor.”
Paradigm 2045- Trinity's Children Page 43
