by J G Clements
Paul was buying Jim’s opinion of the mine more than he bought his own initial conclusions. “What do you think the flange was for?”
“Probably a coffer dam to prevent a premature landslide. If the crater started sliding, some tube or structure would keep the dirt from sliding into the mine itself.” He looked at Paul, then at the assembled pilots and crew. “It’s a very clever solution if you don’t want to be found.” He waited another second. “They know the explosion would create some waste heat, so they probably set a timer and planned to be far away when it blows. Only in this case,” he nodded toward Paul, “some really good detective work cut us a break.” Looking at the crates of artifacts, “And what have we discovered ?”
One of the Chiefs started in on a detailed briefing, but Jake sort of steered him toward a more generic set of conclusions. When he got to the part about the aluminum wiring, Jim had a question. “How high a voltage can the wire take before the insulation breaks down?’
The Chief hesitated, then making eye contact with a couple other techs who had helped him examine it, plunged on. “Less then fifty volts. At first, we thought it was just because the ceramic covering had been beaten up so bad in the explosion, but every single piece we tested was all within the same range. Fifty volts plus or minus a couple.” It went without saying that everyone found that odd. Even low-voltage wire on the ship could probably take over 300volts before it would break down and let the voltage leak.
One of the Fleet personnel asked, “Why aluminum? Why not copper?”
“There is some copper in the debris, but what we would call wiring is all aluminum. Aluminum is pretty good at carrying current. Not quite as good as copper but not a bad substitute. You just have to be careful that you don’t bend it too sharp. Otherwise, it makes a high-resistance spot and it’ll overheat.” He seemed about to finish, then added, “There is also no sign of any plastic or anything that uses any hydrocarbon. There is some solid carbon, different steels, lots of ceramic parts. But nothing made of plastic. Our guess is, if they know any organic chemistry…what we call organic chemistry…there was no sign of it in this pile.”
Then Jim asked a question no one could answer. “Isn’t aluminum one of the more common superconductors?” And with that remark, the conversation took a different direction. “Since superconductors have no resistance, they also don’t have any waste heat. And that may be part of why we don’t get any heat signature from Swarm ships.” Jim offered that as a provisional idea, and waited to see what everyone thought.
And everyone tried to fit that into what was known about the Swarm, and the idea caught on. Somehow, their ships operated without any significant waste heat. Yes, when the fusion drive was on or they were using beam weapons there was heat. But otherwise, the temperatures of their ships were as cold as the space around them. It was one of senior Beaming technicians who made an observation. “We can store enough energy in capacitors for about two shots. After that, we need to use a fusion generator. With superconductors, they might be able to store quite a bit of energy and for long periods of time. With no degradation.”
No one had anything useful to add after that, but the Stewards were setting up a couple of the tables with a buffet, and having the prior permission of the Captain, beer and wine. That was enough of an excuse for everyone, and the meeting morphed into a ‘welcome back’ party for Jim, and for that matter, everyone else. Sue and Jim were inseparable during the party, but when Jim bumped into Phil, he had a question for him. “Phil, what do you know about super conductors, and super-cooled sensors?” He asked it rhetorically, but Phil knew what he would be doing tomorrow.
Chapter 24. Negotiations.
Ceres Report: Tent Installation
I finally figured out how to install my tents. I over-inflated the first one, laying it in the trench. I took to almost two atmospheres and was pleased it didn’t blow. Next, I made a mortar out of the sand: Heated it until the water melted and turned it into a paste-like consistency. I troweled it onto the outside of the tent, letting it re-freeze. In no time, I had a hard shell around the entire tent. I let half the air out…oxygen, actually…and brought the tent to 1 atmosphere. It pulled away nicely from my mortar, creating a hollow cavity that will help keep the heat in. The hope is the tent can be maintained at a decent pressure and warm temperature without melting my mortar. We’ll see.
The Oddjob was in Earth orbit for what?... like thirty seconds before the Troy docked, without even an announcement, I felt Helen in my head. She was on her way to see me and I almost couldn't contain myself. The Oddjob isn’t nearly as big as the Sisk, so it didn’t take her long to find my berth. Fortunately, I was dressed in what I now call my ‘menacing clothes’ so I didn’t look like a slob in front of her. To be perfectly honest though, I don’t even like being a slob in front of myself.
“May I come in?” No reason to knock when you can mindlink. Opening the door, I was greeted to a hug and then she placed her head against my shoulder. I was flattered at her intimacy, then realized it wasn’t that at all. I felt tiredness creeping into my mind. She was in a terrible state.
“Helen…you’re exhausted.”
“I know. There has been so much to do and the various Earth governments seem to never let up. They can talk all day and not get to the point.” During this time she never picked her head off my shoulder and I began to not only realize her weariness, but I caught a glimpse that she was worried about her health.
“You’re not just tired, you’re also not well, right?” She was silent, but the mindlink when we were this close made it impossible for her to deny it.
“My biology hasn’t settled down as fully as my doctors would wish. They weren’t happy with me having my dna altered so late in the process.” I was about to ask her what changes they were when she looked me right in the eyes, and instead of mindlinking, asked me, seeking some assurance, “You still like blondes, right?”
“Helen…I’d like you with any hair color you want.” I had much more to say but now wasn’t the time. Instead I realized I needed to take control of the negotiations or Helen’s health might get worse. Without any conscious considering I had it all figured out. “We are going to reduce the amount of negotiation time by ninety percent. Starting right this minute. Now, who are we supposed to see first?
“We are supposed to go to France and have a three-day meeting there. They want to throw a state ball or something for us.”
“That isn’t going to happen.” I patted her back, trying to soothe her and started formulating a plan. Guiding her over to my bed, I more or less let her flop down to a sitting position. If I could get her to curl up for a nap, I’d lock the whole ship down while she slept. Don’t know what native Crekies need, but if you want to be human, you need your sleep.
I asked the AI if Jack was available. Again it answered me back too quickly which still creeps me out. “Jack will see you right away. Is the mess sufficient?
“Ask him to visit me in my cabin, and tell him Helen is here. Oh…ask a steward to bring us some tea.” I looked at Helen when I said tea and she gave me a smile. I didn’t mention that ‘tea’ also meant whatever baked goodies the mess had on hand. I thought she could use a good snack. That done, I swung her legs up on my bed and made her lie down for a bit. At the same time, I was grateful I had made my bed: I hate being a slob in front of people I care about.
I pretended to relax in a chair and made a bet with myself on who would arrive first, Jack or the tea. Instead, Jack arrived pushing a tea cart so I decided it was a tie. Rather than a big hello which is typical of him, he saw Helen and immediately was worried. “Is she alright?”
“The Earth government weenies have sucked most of the life out of her.” He nodded, and I think he was about to make a comment when I continued. “I’m about to fix that right now but I need to know how we are set for atmospheric-capable ships.” That brought a smile to his face.
“We have several dozen handy. We’ve taken some pilots from ou
r one-man fighter ships and put them into the ferries.” He saw the look on my face and answered my question. “Their skiff pilots don’t have enough experience in atmospheres, but the fighter pilots that you have recruited do. So they now fly the ferries.”
“Then the ‘Troy’ is available?
“As soon as we can get the smell of Ambassadors out of it.” Helen was not a bit more awake, and watching us, seemed amused.
“Helen…do you want us to use the Troy, or do you have another ship in mind to visit France?
“The Troy is fine. It’s the ship you named for me, so how can I use anything else?” Her smile was tired, but to me, priceless.
“Jack, I want the Troy, and two more ferry ships. They are about to become the escort ships for the Troy. Can we swing that?
“I have been told, repeatedly, by Helen and the Crekie that you can have anything you want. Period, end of story.” The ‘its good to be king’ saying went through my mind, but also the fact that most rulers and dictators become so paranoid that it seldom ends well for them. Well, we’ll just have to see.
“Great. Can you get them painted black? Just the two escort ships? Ours can stay shiny.” I paused, wondering if Jack was going to like my next comment. “Jack, I also want to promote you” He thought he knew what I was about to say, and he was partially right. “Besides now becoming the Pilot of the Troy, how about also becoming our chief negotiator with France?” They both gave me a look of confusion. “Helen doesn’t need to speak to the French anymore. Instead, you will and you’ll negotiate in her place. Can you do it?” Jack doesn’t often smirk…it’s ok for me to smirk, but I bet successful submarine captains didn’t smirk much.
“I think I can do better. Remember Jennifer? She worked with Sue running the McKinsie Fleet? She has, eh, remained on board the Oddjob and I’m sure I can get her to be our chief contact. In fact, I think the two of you might have the same sense of humor.” A glance at Helen and it was clear she was ok with that.
“It’s settled. Want to ask her to join us on the Troy, and to pack a bag…we might be gone a few days?”
******
Jennifer worked out perfectly. She gave great phone, being very business-like with the French government. Helen had explained who she had been speaking to, and Jennifer shook her head. “I know who to call. Sue and I had a lot of interaction with a lot of the Earth governments and I know who really speaks for the Prime Minister. Within five minutes, she was speaking to someone named Jean-Marc somebody, and just like that, the entire tone of our negotiations changed.
Basically, I wasn’t negotiating: I was offering a more or less ‘take it or leave it’ offer, and I was injecting a ton of useless stuff just to play with their heads.
“Jennifer, tell them that both Helen and I will require either full diplomatic immunity or a complete pardon before we set foot in France.” Jennifer got it, validating that her sense of humor and mine were similar. But Jack was a step behind. And Helen was accessing that database the way she does…when she does, she totally blanks out of my mind. As if she isn’t present anymore…as she tried to figure out why we need a pardon.
“Look, Jack: I’m trying to be borderline unreasonable with the French, Ok? My position is that we don’t know French law and must insist that we have papers guaranteeing that we can depart anytime we want. And the French are civilized that way, too. Once they issue them to us, they’ll stand behind it.” Turning to look at Jennifer, “We would like to schedule a meeting…a visit…tomorrow if the paperwork is in place. If not, please offer them our apologies but it might be ‘sometime’ before we can visit them again.” Then to Jack again. “Interpret my use of ‘sometime’ in geologic ages.”
Jennifer was on the phone, and she surprised me when she spoke a few words in French. Good for her. I also admired how disconnected the look on her face was from the tone of her voice. She could roll her eyes without the listener knowing that. Good skill to have, I’m sure.
The phone had a mute-button, but Jennifer placed her hand over it. “Jean-Marc is actually ok with this. He says this could turn into a circus but if we continue to insist on something like a luncheon or short meeting, it’ll all happen quick.”
“Jennifer…tell Jean-Marc that the Crekie want several square miles in either the Bassie-Normandie or the Bretagne region for a spaceport, we want it along the coast, and we’ll pay market prices plus 10 percent. Industrial space is fine, or better, undeveloped land. But we’ll buy it, not the French Government. Be very firm about this: The Crekie will not let the French government take the property…we will buy it from the owners. We only want the government to then allow us to use it as a spaceport, and to allow us to sell if off if we decide we don’t want to continue using it.” A glance over at Helen. “Helen…besides the general noise and commotion of ships coming and going, are the any environmental concerns?”
“No, besides the dampeners, we can make sure we only use hydrogen and oxygen for any chemical fuels we need. Plasma takes care of itself.”
“That takes care of that. Jennifer…tell Jean-Marc to call us back when it’s all set.” I was about to turn away when something else occurred to me. “Oh…we have a favor. We’d like the four of us to be allowed to visit the Louvre for a private viewing. Say for two or three hours, and there will be no negotiating during that time. In fact, we’d be very happy being left alone and we promise not to touch anything.” When Jennifer realized who the four would be, she glanced momentarily at Jack and in doing so, confirmed what I already knew. Catching me looking at her while she was looking at Jack, she smiled as she relayed these demands to Jean-Marc, and I think she was about to hang up when Jean-Marc had something for her.
“Really? Thanks Jean-Marc. I’ll let them know. Bye.” Not waiting for us to ask, “Jean-Marc said the tour can easily be arranged if we don’t mind it being at night, and he would like to give us the tour personally. He promises no negotiating, but I’ve known him for some time, and if he discusses the weather with you, he wants something. But he is charming.”
I hadn’t been paying much attention to Jack during all this, but he had been over at a console and had his own announcement. “Oh…the new ferry fleet is arriving.”
“New ferries? You mean more of the same, or has there been a design change?”
“You mean other than those fold-down stairs you like?” I didn’t rise to the bait…I knew he had more to say so I didn’t have to. “Helen wants each person to be able to take as much luggage and stuff as they want. So are you ready for this?” I glanced at Helen and sent her a mental ’should I be ready?’ thought. “Each émigré can have one full size cargo container of belongings that we’ll either ship along with him, or be delivered to his destination.” Once again, I realized how large-scale this operation was. But it was Helen who had something to add.
“Recruiter…we want to make it easy for everyone, right? Won’t they want their own furniture and clothing and all the other things that will help them to adjust?”
Jack had something more to add. “Yes. And they can bring tractors, milling machines, stills, hand-tools, sewing machines, looms, and everything else you need to colonize a planet. Or a raftcity. Brilliant, huh?”
I was once again struck with the enormity of this undertaking. “Yes, it it.” Then in my head, “I knew you’d be pleased.” But I was already looking ahead. “Helen…Jack…if we are going to be using cargo containers…do we not only need a coastline to keep the noise down, but do we a need a deep harbor for loading and unloading the containers?”
Helen didn’t follow me, but Jack sure did. “It would make a lot of our logistics simpler. Got anything in mind?”
I gave everyone my best deadpan look. “Folks…right after France, we’re going to Scotland. Jennifer…who do you know there?”
But it was Helen who had a different idea. “We need to stop first on the Virgin Islands before Scotland. I really want you to see our spaceport.” There was more than she was saying, but it made s
ense for me to at least take a look. Besides, I planned to load up the Troy with wine while in France, so maybe I could unload it there for my own safekeeping. Maybe.
Chapter 25. Half Lives.
Ceres Report: Edison was right.
I brought a few extra LED lights, but I could always have used more. But on a hunch, I had brought some tungsten filament for an experiment.
With enough spare electricity, I fashioned some incandescent lightbulbs with one unusual feature: I put the glass coverings on them myself, using the vacuum of Ceres instead of pulling my own. I guess Ceres probably has some atmosphere, but it wasn’t enough to burn out the bulbs. So now, I have a lit walkway from my ship to the tents. You have to learn to make your own fun I guess.
The party had lasted late into the evening, and everyone seemed glad to have some quiet ship time for the next few days. The survey crews had been at it for a couple months before Jim called for a pickup, and they had tried to map as many planets and moons as they could. That, coupled with the number of personnel trying to become accredited on various ship’s functions had worn everyone out. Jim should have been the most tired, but despite his ordeal, he had installed himself as a permanent fixture in one of the observation chairs on the Bridge.
Jake and the Bridge crew just accepted him as part of the Bridge, and the Stewards broke the tradition of only offering coffee to on-duty Bridge crew and Captain. But the crew seemed to instinctively know to leave him alone. Whatever it was he was thinking about, he had chosen the Bridge to do it. Anywhere else on the ship, if a crewman decided to sit around all day, he’d be talked about, and asked to leave if he didn’t pick up his share of the load. But everyone knew Jim was working. They just had to wait.