“You can’t,” Belle said. “We’re heading away from the slipstream. We need to stop, not go faster.”
“I’m sorry, captain, but if the spillover melts, the rest of the ship will soon follow, and there won’t be anything left to stop.”
“If you have to,” Belle said.
“I’ve diverted the main engine to the ion drives, and commanded it to shut down.”
There was a lurch as the ion drives started kicking out main-engine levels of thrust.
“The cruising engine is running flat-out. I’m commanding the active engines to shut down. No, wait, the system generator is in emergency shutdown. I’m commanding the active main engine to shut down, and dropping the cruising engine to minimum output. Once the energy spill-off cools down, I’ll divert as much of the cruising engine to it as I can, but we’ll need it online until we can repair the system generator.”
“Good news, Captain,” Biff said. “Stan has brought one defender online. He’s about 85% intact, which is pretty good. I’m sending him to reinforce the battle at the breach.”
“That’s good to hear,” Belle said. “I wish we could get some intel on what’s going on in that battle.”
“Maybe we can,” Katie said. “Look at the video feed for the thermal imagers. They’re on a high-temp glass fiber-optic network, since their purpose is to track fires which cause enough damage that the temperature rating of the fiber is relevant.”
“I forgot we had that system,” Biff said.
“Most people do,” Katie said. “It’s never used.”
“Tapping in now,” Biff said. “The search-and-destroy contingent isn’t too bad. It’s one Orca, and our defenders are both in positions of good cover.”
“The other one isn’t going so well,” he continued. “We’ve got twelve defenders left, and they’re down to six orcas. Based on how it went in the engineering room, that’s not enough. Actually, that one that Stan fixed just got there. That brings it up to thirteen, which still isn’t enough, but every little bit helps.
“And I just got a notification that Stan brought another defender online. 80% intact. That’s still pretty good.
“Woohoo! We just took out one of the orcas! Soon to be fourteen to five. Still not good enough, but a lot better.”
“We need other weapons. What options do we have?”
“I just did a rough calculation based on the power output curve of their comm jammers,” Katie said, “and I don’t think they can last much longer. They’re transmitting several kilowatts, which has to generate a lot of heat. You can see on the thermal imaging which ones are doing that, and it’s only one of them. Granted, they might be taking turns, but even so, they can’t have that much power storage on board. When they run out, Biff should be able to regain control of the defenders.”
“Stan just brought another defender online. Only 56% intact. I’m going to configure him for suppressive fire and have him join the main battle.”
“By the way,” Katie said, “don’t we have a few humanoid earthmoving robots? It seems to me if it has any charge in it, we should be able to pilot it in the zero-g in the cargo area and just crush the attackers without puncturing the hull or damaging the superstructure.”
“I’m not sure that they do have any charge,” Belle said, “and also they might be locked with security codes that were separately mailed to the buyers, but it’s a good thought, and I’ll keep it in mind.”
“I’ve got the main engines shut down, and the spill off is running at less than 10% capacity. I can’t divert the cruise engine to it, though, since it’s still at super-critical temperatures. I really hope we didn’t kill it. At that point, the only way to kill the extra energy from the engine is to leave it going to the ion drive. At least it’s spooled down to 40%”
“How long until it cools?” Belle asked.
“A while,” Katie replied. “It’s not designed to bleed off heat from itself and the ship around it. We’ve definitely voided the warranty. I don’t think that we can safely try using it again for at least fifteen minutes.”
“Damn,” Biff said, “they got one of ours. Twelve to five, with one half-functioning defender on the way. At least the other battle is a pure stalemate.”
The next five minutes were very tense. Four defenders were disabled, one attacker was disabled, and Stan managed to resurrect another of the broken defenders in engineering.
“Ten to four,” Biff said.
“I just had an idea, Captain,” Katie said.
“Yes?”
“What if the orcas aren’t jamming all frequencies, but are actually putting out a meaningful signal in their jamming. What if the jammer is functioning to coordinate the others?”
“Could be,” Biff said. “I’ve been watching them. They look coordinated.”
“What if we do some jamming of our own?” Katie said.
“I’ll try anything at this point. Make it happen,” Belle said.
Katie went to work on the console.
“One more defender down,” Biff said. “Nine to four.”
“This may not work,” Katie said, “since the comm relays in the ship aren’t meant for offensive jamming, but it’s the best I can do, and it’s better than nothing.”
She pressed a key on her virtual keyboard, then looked up at Biff.
“It will take a minute to tell whether they’ve lost coordination,” he said.
“Oh, and Stan just brought another defender online. 78% intact, which is pretty good. That puts things at ten to four.”
Everyone waited a tense minute.
“This might be working,” Biff said. “The cooler ones aren’t doing anything. Just the occasional bit of suppressive fire.”
Everyone waited.
“Oh hell yes!” Biff shouted. “Katie, you’re a genius. The jamming orca just did a move which relied on his fellows coordinating, and they didn’t, and we got the bastard!”
“And it gets better!” he added. “I’ve got comm back with the defenders. I’m not seeing any of the others start radio jamming. You must be right, they must have run out of juice. OK, now we’ve got a fair fight on our hands.”
Biff rapidly started entering commands for the robots.
“Kari, can we get video feed from the hallways?” Belle asked.
“Yes,” Kari said, “but it’s mostly smoke. I’m switching to thermal. Do you want that?”
“Sure,” Belle said.
With Biff having regained immediate control of the ship’s terminator robots, the fight was far more than fair. The orcas were better armored and better armed, but their big advantage was more sophisticated combat software. Older models relied on having a skilled human coordinating their actions. When they were denied this, the more sophisticated robots had a significant advantage. With that advantage gone, the higher number of defenders more than made up for the superior weapons and armor of the invaders.
The battle lasted about four minutes until the last attacker was dispatched. Biff only lost two units taking out the three orcas, and one of them was the unit which Stan had repaired to being half broken.
“Now to take care of that last unit. Oh, and look! He’s not jamming comms any more either. And Stan just got us another unit, 72% intact. This should be fun!”
It was over quickly. Biff sent the main squad in on the solitary attacker from behind, and with careful coordination between units, pulverized it in a hammer-and-anvil attack with no friendly fire incidents.
“Biff,” Belle said, “You are awesome. It is a pleasure to serve with you. And you too, Katie. That was great work that you did.”
Katie and Biff took a minute to enjoy the praise, and the applause of the rest of the command staff.
Once it died down, Belle turned to the next pressing subject.
“So,” she asked, “not to kill the mood, but how long until we can stop accelerating away from the slipstream?”
“The main engines are off,” Katie said, “and the spill off is readi
ng at the maximum safe temperature. The working cruising engine is down to minimum output. So we’re still accelerating away from the slipstream, but not very fast. Can’t we flip around so we’re slowing ourselves down?”
“I used the maneuvering thrusters to get us pointed this way in the first place,” Belle said, “and I’m worried that if we use the reaction wheel, the slow turn with our engines going will randomize our position too much. We’re already about 28,000 kilometers away from the slipstream, according to the computer. At that range, being off by 1 degree would mean missing the slipstream by hundreds of kilometers.”
“So I guess there’s nothing to do but get the system generator back online. I’ll go investigate the damage,” Katie said.
Chapter 10
When Katie got to engineering, she was horrified. What had been an extremely neat and orderly testimony to human ingenuity was now a chaotic testimony to human destruction.
The air was filled with the acrid smoke of electrical fires. In the next room, she heard the regular mechanical noise of a robot. She looked in and through the smoke dimly saw Stan fixing one of the broken defenders.
“Stan, give me a hand getting these fires out!” she shouted.
“I’m sorry, Katie,” Stan said, “But I have a top priority order to repair these robots to fighting capability.
“But the battle is over,” Katie said. “We won!”
“I’m sorry, Katie,” Stan said, “But I have a top priority order, and I do not have the authority to countermand a top priority order. You must take this matter up with the issuer of the order, or somebody of higher rank.”
“Who issued the order?” Katie asked.
“Captain West,” the robot said.
“But there is no one of higher rank on the ship!” Katie said.
“Nevertheless,” Stan said, “you must take this matter up with the issuer of the order, or with somebody of higher rank.”
While normally he would have interrupted his work for a conversation, since humans find it distracting when a robot carries on a conversation without looking at them, he had not turned to face Katie because he was working on a top priority order. He did not slow down his work or alter it in any way. It bugged Katie.
“Command: call Captain West,” Katie said to the computer.
“Connected,” the computer replied.
“Belle,” Katie said, “Can you countermand your top priority order to Stan? He’s still fixing defenders, and I could really use his help putting out electrical fires. It’s hard to breathe in here. The air filters are being overwhelmed.”
Captain West sent the order to Stan to assist Katie, and he stopped mid-weld the task he had been so hell-bent on continuing and stood up. Even robots programmed to appear very human in their mannerisms have cases that their programming hasn’t taken into account, and those uncaught cases are more unnerving the more the robot is convincing in normal interactions.
“Help me get these electrical fires extinguished,” Katie said. “Start in the main engineering room.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Stan said. He retrieved the emergency fire extinguisher and set to work. Methodically he went to each fire in turn and gave it a calibrated blast. Electrical fires can be difficult to put out because their primary fuel is the insulating material, which often contains reactive elements in its stabilizers. This problem had been solved by the use of chemicals in fire extinguishers which when mixed produce an extremely endothermic reaction. A single eight cubic centimeter blast of HBG (“Heat-Be-Gone”) could absorb 30,000 BTUs. Smothering a fire is not nearly as effective as lowering the temperature of the fuel below its burning point.
With the fires in the main room extinguished, the air filtration system quickly got the room to a tolerable state of air quality. Katie looked around and saw the blood on the floor near the table where Freia had been laying. Poor Freia! There would be time for that later, though. Now it was critical to bring the system engine back online so they could shut off the ion drive.
“Command: call Spark.”
She immediately got back a “not connected” message.
“Computer: locate Spark.”
“Spark is in the secondary cruising engine access room,” the computer replied.
That room was connected to the room where the principal fighting took place. Katie was very worried. She pulled her shirt over her mouth and went into the next room. It turned out that only half the primary fighting had taken place here. The attackers seemed to have taken up positions in the large room which adjoined (one of the main engine access rooms). Stan had dealt with about half of the fires which were burning, and the air filtration system was not yet making progress.
Katie went back to the room with clean air and went to an emergency panel to get a breathing apparatus. They seemed so anachronistic whenever Katie saw them inventoried on a routine maintenance checklist, but she was thankful for them now.
She went back into the room where Stan was working and it was awful. There must have been thirty thousand bullets fired into this room, by the look of it. There was nothing without dents and holes.
She went into the small room which the computer said Spark was in. It was right. He was lying on the floor, full of holes in his torso and with one arm torn off (presumably by a burst of automatic gunfire).
“Shit,” Katie said. “Now what am I supposed to do?”
She thought for a moment. “Stan!” she called out.
“Coming,” he texted, then came through the door a few moments later.
“First, get the fires in this room.”
There were only three, and the ventilation system was mostly coping with them, but they were bothersome. There is an instinctual and not entirely unjustified fear human beings have of uncontrolled fires.
Stan got them under control in twenty seconds, and then reported back for instructions.
“Yes, Ma’am?” he said.
“Evaluate how long it will take you to fix Spark.”
Stan bent down and scanned over the engineering robot.
“He may not be reparable with present parts,” Stan said. “I would need to make a more thorough investigation to give you a 99% confidence answer. Do you wish me to proceed with that?”
“Yes.”
He bent down and began to partially disassemble his injured comrade. When he had produced what looked like a huge mess, but what Katie knew was carefully cataloged within Stan’s robotic memory, he said, “there are some parts we are missing in our parts inventory. There are robots on this ship with those parts, if Spark’s functionality is higher priority than theirs.
“Are you familiar with the parts layout of the orcas?”
“Are you referring to the terminator robots which our defenders recently fought, or to the combine thresher in the hold?”
“That’s called an Orca?”
“It is not the manufacturer’s name for the object, but is a common name.”
“Anyway, I meant the robots which attacked us a few minutes ago.”
“Yes,” Stan said. “I have checked the bill of materials for an Orca class Mark Ten Terminator.”
“You might want to disassemble one of the ones that attacked us, because they seemed to have non-standard parts.”
“Is that an informational comment, or a command?”
“A command,” Katie said.
A text came in from Belle: “Status?”
Katie called Belle back.
“It’s not good, Captain. Spark’s dead and Stan isn’t sure that he can bring him back to life. Spark was our only primary engineering robot. There are the inspection robots, if any of them are still alive, but they don’t have the tool layouts to do what Spark did. Stan is versatile enough, but we can’t just give him Spark’s programming. It wasn’t written for the standard VM.
“I’m going to have to fix the thing by hand, which means an anti-radiation suit and a helper. How’s Freia doing? An engineer’s assistant who isn’t an engineer is a pain i
n the ass, even if they’re a robot.”
“Let me check,” Belle said, and disconnected.
A little later she called back and said, “Right now Freia is somewhere between sleeping and unconscious. Many people would have died from the amount of blood she lost, and we don’t have any to transfuse, so I think we have to count Freia out of active duty for a while. But Fr. Xris said that if you need an engineer’s assistant, he’s willing.”
“I’ll bet he is,” Katie said.
“What does that mean?” Belle asked.
“Nothing,” Katie said. “I’m sure he’ll do a good job. He’s just not my favorite person, that’s all. Obviously that doesn’t matter right now.”
“OK,” Belle said, “He said he can be there in four minutes. I’ll let him know you said yes.”
Katie signed off.
Stan came back from disassembling one of the Orca attack robots.
“I’ve completed the inventory assignment,” he said.
“Anything useful?” Katie asked.
“Yes,” Stan said.
“Anything useful for fixing Spark?” Katie corrected herself.
“Some of its parts would be useful, though it is not a complete set of parts.”
“Get to work fixing Spark. When you require parts that are not in the inventory, nor in the damaged orcas, ask Captain West where to get the others. Can you estimate the time to completion?”
“At least eight hours, but probably longer,” he said.
“Let me know when you finish.”
“Of course.”
“Oh,” Katie said, “before you start that task, please put out the rest of the fires in engineering.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Katie texted the captain, “I need Stan for the foreseeable future. There are a lot of fires here. You should send robots to the other places where there was fighting to check for electrical fires. The last thing we need on this ship right now is fire spreading.”
She took a deep breath, let it out, then figured out what to do next. She’d have to assemble a toolbox, and get into a radiation suit. She hadn’t done any of that since her re-licensing test two years ago.
She decided to get the radiation suit first, as she could have her assistant put together the toolbox. She went into the emergency equipment closet, and looked. There were two sizes of radiation suit. They were one-size-fits-all within their range, and quite bulky. There’s no amount of technology that can change the fact that the only thing that can stop neutrons is mass.
A Stitch In Space Page 14