Marcus was across the aisle from him, Bobcat was on his side, their seats facing each other.
Bobcat replied, “Can’t have the grunts wondering how people keep showing up without having flown in or driving in through the front gate. Just be thankful Bethany Anne didn’t make us fly from Europe, that would have been a hell of a long trip.”
“Power supplies.” Marcus’s voice cut through their conversation.
Bobcat and William were accustomed to Marcus just blurting out a phrase with no context. They just figured the rest of the conversation had already happened in his head. They just needed to hit the Marcus rewind button and take him off mute.
“Come again?” Bobcat got Marcus’s attention. “You were saying something about power supplies?”
Marcus put aside some of the papers he was working on. He pulled out a yellow legal pad that he occasionally used to write down ideas. “Yes, I noted here that power and power supplies would be a useful capability to have for our own efforts. For example, William needs a lot of power. Just one …” Marcus’s voice trailed off as he looked down at his yellow pad and started to write mathematical calculations on his pad.
Bobcat looked over at William, “Ten seconds?”
William nodded, “Yeah, but I win if it goes over.” William pulled up his wrist and hit a button on his watch. “Time.”
Both men waited patiently before Marcus’s head came back up and looked like he was going to provide the rest of his answer. William hit his watch button again. “Damn, 9.2 seconds.” He reached around to get his wallet out and handed a five-dollar bill to Bobcat.
Marcus continued speaking, neither noticing nor caring what his two teammates were doing. “It would require two engines at the most, and they could supply all of William’s power needs. Even for the shop he had designed for the Ad Aeternitatem. Most likely, one would be enough unless every electrical device was turned on at the same time. I doubt that a single engine could deal with the massive spike in power.”
Bobcat decided to ask Marcus a question, “How big of an engine can we produce right now? Are we limited to the size that we are using for the SHLY’s?”
Marcus got this faraway look in his face, before focusing back on Bobcat. “We can probably build engines approximately 40% more powerful than what we have right now. However, we are limited in size due to the size of the devices we can place inside TOM’s ship.”
Bobcat continued, “How are we going to run larger ships? I’m sure we’re not expected to take these little Pods all over the solar system!”
William joined in, “An engine approximately 40% more powerful would be able to produce a lot of spare power if it didn’t have to deal with forces of atmosphere and gravity.”
Marcus looked over at William, “True, but it’s not going to get you to 256C, for something like that we’re going to need to use TOM’s ship.”
Bobcat resumed his conversation, “Are you telling me that for anything to get out of our solar system we have to bum a ride on TOM’s ship? I don’t think that’s going to fly with Bethany Anne.”
Marcus looked back down at his notes moving a couple of sheets of paper to the side and picking up one that was four layers deep, “I suppose we can add more engines in series to run it. However, we might lose some efficiency that way making sure that they are all synced. I’ll have to do some work on that.”
William asked Marcus, “How about we just learn how to build the big engines? How hard is that going to be.”
Marcus looked back at William, “Can’t you allow me the enjoyment of being the only man who has accomplished the engines we have to date before putting such a large challenge in front of me?”
Bobcat pointed a finger at Marcus, “If those aliens show up in the system anytime soon, I don’t think Bethany Anne is going to appreciate you sitting on your ass. She won’t be happy if you’re not applying yourself to the larger engines.” He softened his rebuke with a smile.
Marcus shrugged, “Well, those of us in research usually take a little longer to enjoy the spoils of our success than those in commerce. It could explain why commerce kicks our ass all of the time.”
William leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. “Better commerce kicking your ass than Bethany Anne doing it.”
Marcus nodded, “Good point, I’ll get started on the larger engine concepts with TOM right away.”
The team rested until the jet kissed the tarmac and rolled into Hangar 1. The hangar was reserved for this jet, anyone coming off (no matter how pedestrian looking) were always treated as VIPs. The landing crew had instructions to prep the jet for departure in two hours. William spoke with Paul Jameson who happened to be piloting this time. It wasn’t William’s job to take care of the craft anymore, but he wanted a quick peek under the girl’s skirt. Paul didn’t mind a second opinion on how his plane was performing so he would touch base with William the next flight out.
The three team members gathered their duffels and got ready to see their new garage.
Bobcat was first off of the plane and noticed a man who had to have just become a civilian. He had the look of someone who wore civilian clothes however the look wasn’t fitting him yet.
Bobcat went over to him, “Bobcat, Team BMW.”
The guy replied, “Kevin McCoullagh, Base Commander.” They shook and Bobcat introduced the two behind him, “This is William, he’s in charge of manufacturing. And this is an honest-to-god rocket scientist, Marcus Cambridge.”
Kevin shook all of their hands and spoke, “Happy to meet you all. Lance said I should come over and introduce myself. I’ll take you to the new ‘Garage’ area. The three were surprised when they were directed away from the main area of the base. Kevin led them to the right of hangar 1. “Sorry, but the only other way to get to Hangar 18 is either this long trip around the side or a really long walk that takes us down into the mountain. After that we would need to climb back up before reaching the back entrance.” Kevin pointed them to a small cart, “We are going to use that to run over there.”
Marcus asked, “Did you say Hangar 18?”
Kevin laughed, “Yeah, we rarely ever used the hangar as it was built back during WW II, but the location wasn’t good for our normal logistics. Plus, it’s a pain-in-the-ass to get from the main operations area to this hangar. Lance thought it was the best place to locate you guys.” Everyone got in the cart and Kevin drove around the next two hangars and down an older concrete path. “We’ll have to get this path upgraded. It’s on the engineer’s punch list, but frankly not high enough.” To punctuate his comment, they hit a pothole in the little path and William reached up to rub his head where he had hit the cart top. “But the story they run around here is that back during the 50’s a few special projects were hidden back in the hangar since it has nothing else around it. Easy to see who doesn’t belong in the area. I’ve talked with Lance. He says that most of the guys during the last few decades loved to use it for parties, since it was so out of the way. He’s got a lot of new stuff coming in over there.”
The cart turned down a path and then went back up. Working inside the mountains, not everything was level all of the time. Turning right, their area came into view.
William whistled and Marcus’ eyes grew large. Bobcat wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but this sure as hell wasn’t it.
CHAPTER NINE
Amsterdam, Netherlands
John Grimes checked his pistols and his protective gear. While he supposed he would be damn difficult to kill, he had no desire to find out what it would take should he get a bullet through his chest. After being informed of where his two little shit-heads were holed up, he had researched that area of Amsterdam.
The taxi driver had originally tried to tell him not to go to the address he provided. The driver said, “This area is not Holland, not Amsterdam.” It was purely a zone for those who supported sharia law within their country. The government had already listed it as a no-go zone. The police did not go there without t
heir own armored carrier and a dozen men.
Even for a human who had fought Nosferatu, that might have given him pause. As one of Bethany Anne’s own guards he told the taxi driver to take him as close as he was willing to go. That turned out to be within three blocks of the outer limits of the neighborhood.
John got out of the taxi. His research had given him an appreciation for a city that easily dated to the 1200’s. Recent excavations suggested it could be 3,000 years older than that. He paid the taxi driver including a generous tip. He answered the query from the taxi driver with a negative. He wouldn’t need a pickup, that was already taken care of.
John had on him two pistols and his favorite knife, the one he received during the New York operation. His huge frame and clothes easily hid the armament and his extra magazines. The Netherlands had very hard and strict laws about those who can have guns. Basically only the police, and the few members of gun-clubs could have them only for sport. In the Netherlands self-defense is not considered a valid argument for owning a gun.
Maybe John’s evening was going to revive the argument one more time.
He had an address which was inside the tenements, three blocks inside this ‘no-go zone’. He supposed he could have tried to stay out of sight and jumped in and out as quickly as possible.
But … he was pissed! He had watched the news reports about the terrorist attacks in France and other terrorist acts elsewhere. This suburb had video of a girl being punched by a large dark youth for simply walking towards the area. Why? John felt it had more to do with the asshole’s ability to get away with the act than anything the jackass felt about his religion.
Yeah, well if your religion calls for the extermination of everyone that doesn’t believe, you had better make sure everyone is on your side. And you need to have overwhelming force. Because, eventually people will stop being willing to ‘understand’ and reply in kind.
Tonight was going to be an example of ‘reply in kind’!
John Grimes, member of The Queen Bitch’s personal Guard started walking down the street. He was headed towards the demarcation zone between a 900 year old city and a puss-sack of cancerous ass-munches.
If John Grimes was shown peace, he would respond with peace. If he was shown violence, then the crying and gnashing of someone’s teeth would go through the night and long into the next day.
John had terrorists to apprehend and the breakage between now and that moment would change lives forever. Those good people living here should not proactively protect those who do evil and then expect mercy.
John had left his mercy tied up back at the hotel room. He didn’t have the patience to deal with that shit tonight.
Colorado Base, Co - USA
Fucking huge! That was Bobcat’s first thought. There was a massive amount of activity and building happening on this side of the mountain.
Kevin started pointing out areas as he stopped the cart a good seventy yards from the construction. “Your area is actually in the mountain, which you can’t see from here. Lance had another area hollowed out, complete with a sliding roof. That area is completely sealed off and a real bitch to enter if the roof is closed. There is one main security entrance for your group which is from the inside. Lance has another set of research and development buildings with their own security, surrounding your core area. You have to make it through the outer security before you even reach the concrete walls that separate the two groups. There is a large group of solar panels being installed and there are other efforts under consideration that will camouflage the act of the roof being opened. Nothing will be able to see it unless someone has a spy in the sky above us. The other R&D guys should just assume you’re another group that doesn’t play nice with everyone else.”
William snorted, “That’s because we don’t.”
Bobcat slapped his friend on his shoulder, “Hey, don’t interrupt the tour guide.” Bobcat turned back towards the buildings, “Sorry Kevin, it’s so hard to get well-mannered engineering and manufacturing geniuses. You just gotta’ take what you can get.”
Kevin smiled, “I’ve got one of my own named Robert. I’ll tell you the story about his group. His group were practically ready to lynch the new base owner only to see General Lance Reynolds coming off the plane.” Kevin turned to point at the buildings, “so we have a huge amount of construction going on. There were a shit-ton of machines shipped in before we put up the main walls. I hope to god you don’t need anything major after that stuff was brought in. If you do, I’m not sure how the hell we will get it in.”
Marcus almost blurted out they would bring it in through the roof entrance. He wasn’t sure of exactly where Kevin was on the security tree. It sucked to not be able to brag about his new modification to a Pod. They now had two designs for material transfer craft. One for storing material in while the other would lift your container like a crane. Bobcat was wondering what to call them and had interrupted Marcus in the middle of one of his calculations. Poor Marcus had blurted out that ‘I don’t care if you call them little dicks, just give me some peace and quiet for a few more minutes.’
Now they were designated WEE-WLYS. William had come back from eating and had wanted to know why the new designs were named after him? Bobcat had laughed for five straight minutes before he finally caught enough breath to get out they were named after a ‘William’ of sorts, but it wasn’t him. Bobcat never did explain which William the designs had been named for.
William noticed several locations in the surrounding mountain side being dug out, “What do we have going in up there?”
Kevin looked over to where William was pointing. “Air defense emplacements. I’m concerned about little spies-in-the-skies that aren’t satellites. I’ve talked with Jean Dukes on the Polarus. She told me she had the perfect solution. Then sent me specs to build a special foundation. I’m not sure what she’s sending, but I need to find a way to route power up there.”
Marcus joined in, “Power? How much?”
Kevin pulled out his tablet, “One sec.” He went through his notes and told Marcus the figures that Jean had provided him. Marcus asked if the concrete was poured yet. “No, why?”
Marcus looked at him and smiled, “If William can make sure that we rig a self-destruct option, I can build a self-contained energy source about the size of a six-inch cube that can deliver all the energy you need. We drop the source with wires into the concrete when you build it. Leave the wires … no ... pulling that much juice you’ll need cables. Leave the cables accessible to plug into a breaker box. You won’t have to route wires from an outside source.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“How long would the power source last?”
“Longer than we need it to, call it a couple of hundred years minimum? Maximum could theoretically be a couple of thousand years… perhaps? Probably closer to four or five hundred due to degradation of the metal inside.”
Kevin whistled, “Holy shit. Is this more of that top-secret alien stuff Bethany Anne was talking about?”
Marcus was a little perturbed. Granted it was TOM’s technology, but he did want a little recognition for his part. “The basics are part of TOM’s technology, but I’ve changed some of the internals to use it as a power source.”
“Why don’t you sell little energy boxes?”
“Bethany Anne doesn’t want to let anyone know how we do any of this for a while. Aannnd… there is a very, very small chance if someone were to trip the insides wrong, it could blow.”
“What, explode?”
“Yes.”
“What would the damage be?”
Marcus looked up at the location for the emplacement, “Well, a crater about ten feet in diameter. And whatever is on the top of the foundation would be launched some distance away. If it’s only a few hundred pounds, I suppose we should find it in this valley.”
“That’s…. some damage.”
Bobcat agreed, “Yeah, makes it a real bitch to get past the Env
ironmental Protection Agency, let me tell you!”
“How safe is this power?”
William spoke, “It’s safe. Marcus doesn’t understand the idea behind ‘absolute’ and ‘safe enough’. I’ve had Marcus calculate the chances of a non-opened energy source failing and it is somewhere around a half-percent of the failsafe for nuclear reactors on aircraft carriers.”
Marcus grumped, “I understand the concepts just fine. It’s you Neanderthals that work with fuzzy numbers and can’t ask appropriately refined questions and then bitch when my answer comes back with the same sort of vague response.”
“You guys ready to see your area?” Kevin put the cart into gear and started turning them around when getting their chorus of ‘hell yeah’!’
Kneel Or Die (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 7) Page 8