He winked at Mission. "That Glock there, says the bounty hunter is working overtime. Now if you don't mind ... "
Denman started to walk past and Mission picked him up off the floor by his collar, slammed him into the wall, and held him there with his feet dangling above the floor.
"Well I do mind .... Dick! I don't like people following me. And if I ever catch you again, I'll shoot first and then worry about intention. Get me? Dick!"
"You know, you're a very touchy guy. That temper's going to get you in trouble someday. See you, Mission. My regards to Dr. St. Jean."
Once Denman disappeared, Susan slipped into the hall and said, "Denman, huh?"
"He said he was checking up on us because our bios don't fit the job we've come to do."
"Well, he has a point there."
"Yeah, but I want to know why he is here."
Susan took his hand and said, "Should we finish our walk, or head back to civilization?"
"I want to talk to Carson. Would you care to join us?"
"No, I want to do some more research."
"Do you know how to get back to our rooms?"
"Sure, we just walk 45 minutes in any direction."
Mission knocked on Carson's door and Montag answered.
"Hello, Mr. Mission. I’m in the process of obtaining the information you requested."
“You? Where’s Carson?”
“Right behind you.” Carson stood smiling, there in the hall.
“Going stir crazy?”
“Something like that.”
"Okay, so is it possible for all three of us to fit in this room?"
Carson called, "Sure it is."
But it wasn't as easy as it sounded. Montag had to exit and then Carson entered and then Mission. Then Montag could only come in and close the door.
Montag said, "This will work better if you sit on the bed as Major Pierce is doing."
Montag picked Mission up and set him on the bed five feet up. Mission sputtered and said, "Montag, this is sort of a guy's rule kind of thing, but you can't pick me up unless I'm incapacitated. Okay?"
Montag nodded. "I will remember."
That taken care of, Mission asked, "Well, what do we have so far?"
Carson looked disgusted and said, "Shit, that's what we've got so far. Five different companies have tried to run this place, and the first four went bankrupt. We think the current business receives some type of government subsidy to keep the place running. But in any event, trying to find records is the assignment from hell. Montag, has anything changed since I bolted?"
"I have been in touch with Earth, to see if they could pull some information for me."
Mission said, "All of the records will be in Philadelphia."
"That is what I thought too. All interplanetary business ventures file returns in Philadelphia. But there are only seven entities that file as interplanetary, and all of them are science and technology partnerships. All the companies that we see up here, are part of corporations on Earth, and their returns and records are wherever the parent company is required to file."
Carson scowled. "This whole place is an insurance claim waiting to happen. And the paper trail is a testament to anarchy."
Mission sighed. "Well, this tells us something, even if it doesn't help. Is there a place where the four of us can talk tomorrow night for a readiness review?"
Montag said, "I can locate an unused room for our meeting."
"Good, then 8:00 tomorrow night? Susan and I will come to your door Carson."
32
Mission, Susan, Pierce, and Montag sat down at a folding table. Susan transferred data from her pocket reference into their respective coms and said, "Montag placed all the information we have onto these files. Why don't we start with the organization of the settlement itself?"
Everyone nodded and she said, "All you have to do is select New Angeles and the next menu appears. That gives you an idea of the different topics available."
"Pioneer Inc. created the New Angeles settlement 34 months ago, after the first successful petition for settler's rights by a corporation. Pioneer planned a mining-based community on Triton, Neptune's only significant moon. Very preliminary surveys revealed Triton's crust to be rich in titanium. Company geologists interpreted this as an indication of the presence of other lightweight, high strength ores. Pioneer also mentioned the possibilities of manufacturing goods for space stations and mining settlements. They were quite enthusiastic about what they calculated to be a 94% decrease in transportation costs for goods servicing Planet's Row."
"Pioneer had already developed detailed specifications and other planning documents, and they began construction less than one month after petition acceptance. They used what has become a standard development plan by first assembling a modularized hub which provides atmospheric controls, power, and a chemical processing plant for water. They completed the module in three months, and attached the first living and storage space module two weeks later. At that point, the workers could live on site, and they expanded to space for 2500 in two more months.
As 2500 is the recommended limit of persons per hub, they installed a second hub in three weeks (and that gives an idea of what being on site does for productivity, three months for off-site, three weeks for on) and the associated space took five more weeks. A third hub is now complete with its associated space in progress."
"The figures I have list the New Angeles population at 5041 humans and 1127 synthetics."
Mission said, "Wait a minute. I don't want to lose this thread. What is your source on these population numbers?"
Montag said, "That set of numbers came from the Pioneer Incorporated Report to Stockholders on September 30 of this year."
Mission said, "Okay, please continue."
"Alright. This community has produced outstanding results. They exceeded projected yields every quarter and came in under budget every time. All management and personnel received maximum bonuses in every period. They use the strip mining techniques that destroyed so much of Earth's landscape in the twentieth century. Even though this is a lifeless moon, every settlement petition requires replenishment activity at least equal to the disruption caused by the mining."
"Pioneer brought in genetics engineers who developed several mutations of mosses and lichens which could grow naturally there. This strategy paid off handsomely and Pioneer has shown the most benefit and least cost of any of the settlements in terms of restoration."
"Now, the power structure in New Angeles works like this. Arthur Atwood is the Senior Administrator. The mining settlements always encounter difficulty in finding qualified people who are willing to commit to a tour on Planet's Row. Most companies believe you need at least 30 months to derive any sort of benefit from a senior manager. Atwood's tragedy became Pioneer's gain. His wife of 29 years died suddenly. At the age of 54, he decided that he preferred to leave everything behind, and volunteered to establish and manage the settlement. There seems to be no question that he is the best manager in any of the mining colonies."
"The day to day mining operation makes up the heart of the settlement and it is run by Jesse Bolton. As you might imagine, mining is not a profession for the weak, and Bolton is a very tough man. He has twelve supervisors that report to him. Each supervisor has eight to twelve crews and each crew has between eight and twelve men. That's the prime shift. Bolton has two deputies and together they work the operation continuously."
"A small scientific group reports directly to Atwood. Dr. Juan Mendoza is in charge of the group which includes a genetics engineer, a botanist, a geologist, and a chemist."
"Beverly Fulton heads up a small manufacturing group. She is charged with building a manufacturing operation in New Angeles. As I understand it, that group currently works on a D hub and associated space for the manufacturing facility."
"And finally, Gregory Benton handles city administration. His accounting group handles payroll, financial reports to the home office, and general bookkeepi
ng. He has a seven person staff for law enforcement and a general services group that runs the cafeteria, provides maintenance to the city facility, and offers medical services."
Susan tired of talking. She sat down and said, "What's next?"
Mission turned to Carson and said, "Anything in the corporate jungle yet?"
Carson shook his head. Montag said, "Our queries have reached Earth. I will continue to check every hour or so for a response."
"Carson, what do we know about the Dick?"
"Well, he seems to be just what Pioneer reported. He's an efficiency expert, he disgusts everyone he meets. He's been slapped with sexual harassment twice. The last time, Pioneer fired him. His lawyer showed at corporate headquarters within the hour and they reinstated Dick the next day. The courts cleared him of all charges both times."
Mission shook his head. "A kind, gentle soul. Why, I think the word that describes him best is ... misunderstood."
Mission said, "Anything else? Okay, let's go. And Carson. Don't forget, we don't like each other."
Carson just gave Mission an evil glare.
Mission said, "That's good. That's very good."
Carson smiled a genuine smile. Vivienne Chapin described her last vacation, a two week tour of Europe that focused on Amsterdam. Not the Amsterdam that young men visit, the hash bars and the brothels. She recounted her trips to the Rijksmuseum in detail, describing painting after painting, and what she found remarkable about each.
And Carson listened and simply watched her face. Her eyes so intent. Her very delicate features. Her skin so flawless. He thought, there is nothing in the universe that compares to a beautiful woman.
“Carson?”
He realized that she had called his name. Three times. “I’m sorry Vivienne.”
She smiled. “I said you looked lost. Penny for your thoughts?”
He looked at his watch. “I have to pack. I’m leaving in the morning.”
He put his hand on top of hers. “I want to see more of you. ..find a way to see you once we’re both back on Earth.”
He looked at her expectantly. He held out his com and she touched it with hers. He stood up, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek ever so softly. He whispered, “Beautiful Vivienne.”
And he strode out of the room and was gone. She smiled. She was rather pleased that she had been wrong. She had seen the West Point class ring. She assumed she was a potential conquest and that leaving tomorrow meant the full court press tonight. And instead, he worried she might say no when he asked for her phone number and e-mail address. She realized she was still very aware of the spot on her cheek where he had kissed her.
33
For the seventh time, they strapped themselves into their seats on the shuttle. But at least this time, they would land on a planetary body. The settlement itself measured almost the exact proportions of a space station, but it would be anchored to the ground.
Again it was difficult to say exactly when they pulled away. But as the hours passed, they began to see Neptune looming huge on the horizon. Its color was such a brilliant blue that it sometimes appeared fluorescent. It wouldn't be long now before Triton rotated into their field of vision.
Mission turned to Susan and asked, "What's on your mind? You have that pensive look."
She said, "I don't know. Mixed emotions. I'm excited by the prospect of unraveling this mystery. I'm scared to death by the thought of hundreds of those killing machines."
She shuddered. "And I guess I have a morbid curiosity about how this will affect you. You put it in my mind when you mentioned it. You know, this being your last fling at risking your life."
"You act like I enjoy getting slapped around by an anatomically correct ass-kicking machine."
"Well, don't you? I mean, isn't there a part of you that loves the thrill of gambling your life on your skills, and walking away from the table a winner?"
He put his hand in his chin and considered. "Probably. I don't think it was there at first. But I guess it grew on me."
"So how much will it hurt to give it up? Can you give it up?"
"I don't know. Some people, they think the worst thing in the world is not having choices. But actually, it's one of the easiest. There's nothing to second guess. You don't have any doubts. You just go and do the only thing you can do. And for the first time in my life, I have some choices, and that’s not something I'm used to."
"Mission, it doesn't get any easier. You learned some lessons very early on at the expense of losing the chance to learn another set later on. Now it's your turn. Welcome to thirty something. You have to learn to live with bundles of choices, with self-doubt, with choosing between a million shades of gray and then getting on with it."
"Is this from your Tough Love Seminar?"
"Fine, you don't want a ticket to my carnival of clichés, that's just fine."
"You want to guess my weight?"
At that point Susan hit him, and she had obviously paid attention to all the combat around her lately, because she made it hurt.
Mission dozed several times during the trip. Then he woke up to find Susan wearing reading glasses as she pored through her research.
"What subject are you worrying today?"
She didn't even break the sweep of her eyes across the page. She said, "I'm looking at about eighty different psychological indexes and indicators to see if there are promising candidates for separating human and synthetic responses."
"What do you have so far?"
Susan closed her eyes and then dropped her papers on the tray table. Mission could see that she was taking great pains to be patient with him.
"The Hirsch/Gartner Creativity Scale is interesting. Because synthetics begin their existence with an adult body and an adult brain in terms of performance potential, their HGC scale varies considerably in comparison to a human adult. The synthetic's creativity runs well below human norms for the first eighteen to thirty months. After that, their HGC scores begin to converge with their human counterparts."
"Then you have Frederick Napier's Socialization Inclination Index which plots four components of the human urge to socialize, and then builds an aggregate score which indicates the likelihood of the individual initiating contact, seeking it out, and working to maintain the relationship. Unfortunately, the synthetic's score varies widely depending on the class, specialties, and software options."
"The standard synthetic is designed to be neutral with respect to socialization, neither seeking nor avoiding social encounters. However, we quickly learned that the Domestic class needed to be social-oriented or the members of the household wouldn't accept it. So we could probably spot a Mining class, but ... no. We couldn't differentiate between a Mining Synthetic and a human introvert."
She turned to face him and spread her hands apart. "The problem is that any measure developed for humans shows a wide scale. I mean, what would a psychologist do with a test where everyone bunched around a score of eighty-seven? He would file it in the recycler."
Mission said, "The next time you make changes to the syn brain, you should include an identity question."
Susan scowled. "A what?"
"An identity question. Say ... if you asked the synthetic the question How tall does a starship weigh? then the syn would have to answer, Ralph and a half. Then you'd have a foolproof means to identify a syn, providing your identity key wasn’t compromised."
She stared at him like he had proposed sex change operations. "That is the most ridiculous idea I have ever heard."
"Don't hold back Susan, how do you really feel?" He grinned at her and said, "You know what I think is ridiculous? A company so obsessed with building perfect replicas of humans, that they fail to consider they might want to differentiate someday."
Obviously he had crossed the line and the icy cold assumed control of her features. She looked at Mission and said, "Look, I understand that you live for moments when you can antagonize people who are serious about their work, but play time is
over. I have a job to do."
Mission found himself studying the view of Neptune and wondering how he had so quickly put his feet in his mouth. He was already thinking negative thoughts about the settlement. It seemed that the only relief from the tedium of cramped conditions and the boredom of life in a settlement, would be a life threatening emergency. Add to that the fact that Susan was ticked with him, and he was mired in a no-win situation.
Mission now realized the depth and breadth of his error, especially from a tactical view. He had angered the woman sitting next to him and they were both strapped in and unable to move to another seat. He also had failed to bring any materials to occupy his time and now cabin fever held him in an unrelenting grip. He couldn't be sure, but he thought that he and Susan were in a competition in which the first person to speak would lose. That was fine with Mission, he sometimes went days without speaking.
But after another hour, Mission surrendered. "Susan? Could I look at the materials you’ve finished?"
Almost magically, a stack of papers dangled from her left hand, waiting for Mission to take them. As he moved into the first page, he looked at her and said, "Thank you." No response. He wondered if this were perhaps a time based sentence and he would be forgiven by tomorrow. Or next week. Or next year.
He waded into the world of psychology. He looked at a test that placed scores along a Risk Taking/Reward Seeking Axis. The Bickel Avoidance Index measured a subject's propensity to avoid pain. Or perhaps the answer was the Obsessive/Compulsive Correlation. Anhaus and Overton had developed methods for quantifying the scale between thrill seeking and excessive order and organization.
Susan was right. Every one of these measures was designed to produce results across a wide spectrum. That way, the usefulness of the measure was in contrasting tendencies and suggesting effective strategies and treatments for the polarized extremes. As such, these measures couldn't help in solving their problem. They had to find a test where humans consistently answered the same, or the synthetics did. Of course, the optimum would be for humans to consistently make a different response from the syns.
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