The Hot Gate - [Troy Rising 03]

by John Ringo

  “What... happened?” Dr. Velasquez asked.

  “Had an anomalous reading on the number sixty-three plate, sir,” Dana said. “Powered it up and put in a grav meter. Grav meter came apart. Somewhat explosively.”

  “What would have happened if a person were in that field?” the minister asked.

  “Not sure, sir,” Dana replied. “Nothing good.”

  “It depends upon the strength of the dren field,” Granadica interjected. “Low strength, the colloidal simply feels minor to extreme pain. At the extreme pain end there is internal damage. At high strength, equivalent to forty or more gravities, the colloidal normally suffers explosive rupture. Given the failure of the gravity meter, it was in excess of fifty gravities. It would have terminated a colloidal.”

  “Oh,” Dr. Velasquez said. “If I may ask without causing more issues... Would that perhaps have been an original fault?”

  “No real way to tell, sir,” Dana said. “My gut says it wasn’t. My guess, at the time, based upon... other data was that it might have originally been a minor fault that turned into a major one as the system got out of tune. It was during the first period when I took over as division chief and we were working a good bit of maintenance issues, sir.”

  “So... if these are tests,” Dr. Velasquez said. “And I imply no insult to Granadica by saying that—”

  “I’m fully cognizant of the issue at this point, Mr. Underminister,” Granadica said. “Please continue.”

  “Then it sounds as if it might have been a fault that was, at first, nonlethal but the more you ignored it...”

  “The more lethal it became, sir,” Dana said, still at attention and looking at the far bulkhead.

  “That certainly sounds like a test to me,” Dr. Velasquez said. “Even an elegant one.”

  “As you say, sir,” Parker responded.

  “Engineer’s mate,” Dr. Velasquez said carefully. “There is no way to unsay the things that have been said, if not between us then... between our two positions. But I would like to thank you for keeping Diego alive.”

  “Sir?” Parker said, looking at him for a moment, then returning to stare at the bulkhead.

  “Two months?” the minister mused. “Three? The power is on in the shuttle bay. He is for some reason walking in that area—”

  “Then he paints the walls,” Granadica said.

  “Thank you for that graphic image, AI,” Dr. Velasquez said. “As the AI said.”

  “You are welcome, sir,” Dana said. “He’s a good kid.”

  “And you’d much rather be back with the One-Four-Two,” Dr. Velasquez said.

  “I go where the Navy tells me to go and do what the Navy tells me to do, sir,” Dana said.

  “And I think we’re starting to come to an understanding that she does that very well, Minister,” Tyler said, drifting over. “I’m pleased you brought up the question of gravitic interactions, Underminister.”

  “Because?” Velasquez said, cautiously.

  “It’s part of our Clemonstration for the day,” Tyler said. He was, for some reason, holding a broomstick in his hand. “Parker?”

  “Sir?” Dana said.

  “I need you to set thirty-seven plate to a relative positive two gravities,” Tyler said. “And thirty-eight to a relative one gravity. Both on sixty-five percent overspread. Do not engage.”

  “Sir?” Dana said, looking over at Captain DiNote who simply nodded. “Thirty-seven to two pos, aye. Thirty-eight to one pos, aye. Sixty-five percent overspread, aye. Hold engage, aye. Please clear the area, sirs.”

  “You’re not going to the engineering compartment?” Minister Velasquez asked.

  “I can do that from here, sir,” Dana said, tapping her head. “Implants. EA Velasquez. Ensure area clear.”

  “Sixty-five percent overspread,” Velasquez said thoughtfully. “That would be...”

  “Dr. Barreiro may want to step back to the bulkhead,” Tyler said, gesturing with the broom. “In fact, we probably should have safety goggles and all that. But if everyone would please form along the bulkheads?”

  When the group had cleared the center of the shuttle, Tyler looked at Parker.

  “Is the gravity set?”

  “Set, sir,” Dana said dubiously

  Tyler stepped forward and extended the broomstick into midair.

  “Ministers, before I do this brief Clemonstration ...” Tyler said, momentarily lowering the broomstick. “First, personnel of South American extraction can check as to what gravities are being exerted. Second, the gravities involved are low. One Earth gravity and two Earth gravities. You can experience more on a roller coaster or a particularly hard bank from a plane. They should have no particular effect. Is that understood?”

  “Understood,” Dr. Barreiro said.

  “Thus,” Tyler said, extending the broomstick again and closing his eyes. He even put his left hand over them. “Parker, engage as ordered.”

  “Roger, sir,” Dana said, still puzzled.

  She engaged the power as ordered and flinched when the broomstick more or less exploded.

  “Ow,” Tyler said, pulling a splinter out of his face.

  “Mother of God,” Dr. Barreiro said.

  “Dr. Velasquez earlier asked about gravitational vortexes,” Tyler said, flicking at some bits of wood on his suit. “That, gentlemen, was a gravitational vortex. Extremely low power interacting in just the wrong way causes extremely high-power gravitational fields. It is the basis, and this is not particularly classified, of penetrator missiles. Furthermore, in normal use grav plates drift out of alignment. In this case very small vortexes exerting about one hundred gravities over a two millimeter area from, relatively, one and two gravities. Even if they are perfect out of the yards, failure to maintain plates and controls systems, constantly and consistently, eventually causes a gravitational vortex.”

  “Oh,” Dr. Barreiro said. “I... see.”

  “Sir, one small comment?” Dana said.

  “EM Parker?”

  “You could have...” Dana looked around at all the open hatches. “Sir, you just scattered FOD into every panel in the cargo bay! This bird is absolutely deadline!”

  “Oh,” Tyler said. “Um ... Damn?”

  “It was my idea, EM,” Granadica said shyly. “And I didn’t think that through. I’ll help your guys clean up.”

  “Right,” Captain DiNote said, trying not to smile. “Well, since EA Velasquez and EM Palencia now have something to occupy them, I suggest we retire and let them get to it.”

  “Fracking DPs!” Parker muttered as soon as they were gone.

  “Hey,” Velasquez said, shrugging. “For once it wasn’t us.”

  * * * *

  Dana had left the other engineers carefully tweezing out bits of wood from Twenty-Four while she moved Twenty-Three back to its docking station. Just before she asked Granadica to close up the bay and pump down, who should come trotting in but Tyler Vernon.

  “Open up,” Tyler commed. “I’m going to catch a ride.”

  “Yes, sir,” Dana replied, unlocking the front hatch. She started to get out of her seat but sat back down as the “Cycled” light came on. Apparently the tycoon knew how to use a Myrmidon hatch.

  “Go to EMCOM, I think it’s called,” Tyler commed as soon as the hatch was closed.

  “Yes, sir,” Dana said, shutting down the links. She would have preferred having Velasquez in his seat but what Vernon wanted, Vernon got.

  “What did you think about Granadica?” Tyler asked, walking into the command compartment and sitting in the engineer’s seat.

  “She’s very interesting?” Dana replied.

  “I brought you out here for a reason,” Tyler said. “For one, the Johannsen Worm metaphor was great.”

  “Had you already figured it out?” Dana asked.

  “Yeah,” Tyler said. “But I was glad it was someone else who said it and I hadn’t connected the Johannsen Worm. That was a great metaphor that really hit home. But the
reason I brought you out here was for your take on Granadica.”

  “Sir,” Dana said, maneuvering to dock. “Could you give me just a second, here?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay,” Dana said as soon as she had a hard lock. She was checking the engineering readouts, but she could do that in her sleep. “Where were we, sir?”

  “Granadica,” Tyler said. “What’s your take on her?”

  “She’s got some sort of worm in her?” Dana said.

  “We’ll get to that,” Tyler said. “Think, Parker. I need you for your brains. What was your first impression?”

  “She’s sarcastic,” Dana said. “Paris, Leonidas, Athena... they’re... sober. Somewhat humorous, especially Paris. But not sarcastic.”

  “What’s that tell you about her?” Tyler asked.

  “She’s an AI, sir,” Dana replied. “I’m not a cyberneticist.”

  “No, but do you think of her as an AI?” Tyler asked.

  “What do you mean, sir?” Dana said.

  “You get along with AIs,” Tyler replied. “You get along with me. Why?”

  “Still trying to figure that out, sir,” Dana said. “You said it’s because I don’t fan-girl.”

  “You treat me like a person,” Tyler said. “You treat AIs like people. What’s your impression of Granadica? As a person.”

  “She’s unhappy,” Dana said. “Very unhappy. But with all the problems that have been cropping up ...”

  “And I said we’ll get to that,” Tyler said. “We don’t have much time. Continue from she’s unhappy.”

  “That level of sarcasm, in a person...” Dana said, warming to the point. “In a human I’d say that they’re either from a very sarcastic culture, some of my cousins were that way, or depressed. And usually both.”

  “What are some of the other symptoms you’d expect with that?” Tyler said.

  “In a human, lethargy or—” Dana said, her eyes widening. “Hypochondria.”

  “Ta-da! The definition of a smart person is someone who agrees with you. ‘Oh, those BuCult bastards.’ Hypochondriacs never ascribe the problem to themselves. It’s always someone or something else. And what’s hypochondria? At base.”

  “A plea for attention,” Dana said. “That’s why you said that all the muckety-mucks who tagged along were a benefit, not a detraction. It gave her as much attention as she’s had in her life. Damn, sir.”

  “Getting rich is in part luck,” Tyler said. “I will not deny the aspect of luck in my ‘meteoric rise.’ Bill Gates in 1953 instead of ‘83 would have ended up as a manager in IBM. But if I’d just been lucky I’d be sitting in a nice house in New Hampshire clipping coupons, Dana. Being underestimated is useful, however.”

  “Hell, sir,” Dana said, chuckling.

  “And now you know you’re a friend,” Tyler said. “Because I don’t point that out. I’m going to arrange to have the chief out of your room this evening. You’ll have some free time. Talk to Granadica. I’d gotten this far before we got here. What I don’t have is a fix.”

  “You want me to fix a hypochondriac AI?” Dana said. “Me?”

  “I want you to think about it,” Tyler said. “Just that. And we are done. We’ll find a way to meet like this tomorrow. Think about it.”

  “Yes, sir,” Dana said. “Just one thing, sir. Why me?”

  “Think about that, too,” Tyler said, getting up. “Are we docked?”

  “Let me do the checks, sir,” Dana said. “I really don’t want to go down in history as the person who killed Tyler Vernon.”

  * * * *

  “Reception this evening will be for ‘senior’ personnel only,” Captain DiNote said. “Which includes the chief but not the rest of you. So as of 1800 you are off-duty. Do not get into trouble.”

  “There’s not a lot of trouble to get into on Granadica, sir,” Thermal pointed out.

  “I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

  “Up for a game of cards?” Mutant asked.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Dana said, laughing. “I’ve either been ensuring the functionality of my division or on this mission for the last four months. I’ve got Chippendale’s Survivor to catch up on.”

  “Oh, God!” Thermal said. “Pass! Pass!”

  “Paul wins,” Chief Barnett said.

  “Who cares?” Dana said. “I’m looking forward to the coconut oil nude wrestling challenge!”

  * * * *

  “Granadica?” Dana said, leaning back in her rack and watching the show. She had the sound turned off. She wasn’t really that big a fan and she definitely didn’t care what came out of their mouths. Like the women on Super Model Survivor, these guys had been chosen for their looks, not their brains.

  “Thought you wanted to watch the show,” the AI said.

  “I am watching the show,” Dana said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t talk. It’s not like I care what they’re saying”

  “Highest rated show on TV for the female audience,” Granadica said. “And lowest rated for men. Biggest variation, too.”

  “Girls will watch Super Model Survivor just to see the contestants humiliated,” Dana said. “And to comment on what they’re wearing. Thermal’s reaction is pretty much center of norm for guys about this one. Fact is, I just wasn’t up for an evening of subtle sexual innuendo and riposte over cards. I needed some alone time.”

  “So why are you talking to me?” Granadica asked.

  “Okay,” Dana said. “Girl time.”

  “I’m an AI,” Granadica said. “I am gender neutral.”

  “Right,” Dana said, giggling. “Can I tell you something without you taking offense?”

  “I’ve had so many insults lately,” Granadica said. “What’s one more?”

  “It’s not an insult is why,” Dana said. “I said don’t take offense. When I first heard your voice I wanted to call you Granny.”

  “‘Cause I’m old,” Granadica said.

  “No,” Dana said. “And yes. I lost all my grandparents in the bombings and to the plagues. I just sort of remember my mom’s mom. And there was just something about your voice, the way you talk. So it’s not an insult.”

  “Thank you, Engineer’s Mate,” Granadica said. “May I call you Dana?”

  “If I can call you Granny.”

  “Done,” Granadica said. An older woman’s head popped in as a hologram. “Is this... an issue?”

  “No,” Dana said. “I like it better than the Glatun head.”

  “The wrinkles seem appropriate,” Granadica said.

  “No offense, again, but your shell is really banged up,” Dana said. “I’m surprised Apollo doesn’t fix that.”

  “It’s purely cosmetic,” Granadica said. “It doesn’t affect my operation.”

  “I mean, I know there are years on that shell,” Dana said. “But how? You’ve got a meteor screen.”

  “Your shuttles are parked on it,” Granadica said. “Do that enough, and you end up sort of dinged up. And you parked carefully.”

  “Don’t care if it’s cosmetic,” Dana said. “It should be fixed.”

  “It’s not that big a problem,” Granadica said. “But thank you.”

  “I think it is,” Dana said. “Maybe it’s a girl thing, but body image is important. And, like I said, you felt... woman from the first time I met you.”

  “So you’re saying I need a facelift?” Granadica asked. “Thanks.”

  “Would you feel better with one?” Dana asked.

  “AIs don’t feel,” Granadica said. “We don’t have emotions.”

  “Don’t give me that,” Dana said. “You wouldn’t have gotten so furious with the South Americans if you didn’t have emotions. Don’t tell me that was rote response.”

  “We don’t have emotions as colloidals understand it,” Granadica said.

  “Doesn’t mean you don’t have them,” Dana said. “So... would you feel better if your shell didn’t look like the surface of the moon?”

 
; “What do you think?” Granadica said. “Of course I would!”

  “There, was that so hard?” Dana said, chuckling. “I mean, I know that you’ve done a lot of stuff, been a lot of places, but until you started listing your resume... It didn’t really sink in. I mean, three hundred years building ships! The U.S. is less than three hundred years old.”