by Gorg Huff
“I noticed that you sold quite a few of the artificials to the professor.” Warner Davis paused for effect, then continued, “Quite recently.”
“Right, Checkgok did. But the professor is an expert cyberneticist, and what use were the busted brains to Checkgok?”
“It kept holding out for a better price,” added Professor Gerhard Schmitz. “Until you showed up, that is. Never believe it when they say you fellows are never around when needed.”
“I did notice the ‘other valuable considerations’ mentioned in the contract,” Davis said as they walked down the corridor to the lounge. With the ships accelerating, they had gravity. “Would you mind hinting at what those are?”
“Now, Lieutenant, none of that,” said Professora Stuard. Twenty-four hadn’t been all the brains they bought. Checkgok decided that the brains would be a major seller on Parthia because the Jackson-Cordoba Trading Company, which controlled most of the trade with Parthia, had almost an embargo on the sale of artificial brains to the Parthians. There were over a hundred brains onboard. Fortunately, they didn’t take up much space and could easily be hidden.
“It’s perfectly all right, dear,” Gerhard interrupted. “It’s not a secret, Lieutenant. It’s just a bit vague. You see, Checkgok is very impressed with Pandora, Sally, and the other artificials, and it wants me to try to teach his clan’s scientists about how artificials and interfaces are made, in the hopes that the Parthians—or at least his clan—can have the advantages that such devices give us. Things like your flexsuit. We have our own suit-bot, you know. That’s how we met. They had a damaged one. The poor thing had a broken matrix and, well, I repaired it. It’s happily making flexsuits for the crew now. In fact, it’s almost finished a new flexsuit for Robert. It’s booked solid for the next few months, just on crew and family, of course.”
Warner Davis was in a flexsuit. However, Ensign Hubbard and the bosun were in the newer, externally-muscled work suits. “How did you manage to get your own suit-bot?” Davis asked the captain.
“It came with Spacer Outis. He was running a tailor shop on a little rock in the Morland system until the bot got damaged.”
“Morland’s a good distance from Danworth,” offered Ensign Hubbard cautiously.
“True enough. But once we had Hirum and the suit-bot . . .” Captain Gold stopped as they reached the lounge.
Pandora’s lounge was a large room designed to act as a family room, school room, game room and, as now, a convenient and comfortable place to entertain. There were plush chairs and a variety of finger foods set out. John was there, wearing the traditional chef’s hat.
“This is Able Spacer John Gabriel, our enviro tech and chef. He’s fixed up a few snacks. Everyone have a seat, or do you want to get right to your inspection?” He looked at Ensign Hubbard, not Lieutenant Davis. At least in theory, Hubbard and the bosun were there to inspect while Lieutenant Davis was there to protect them against any overreaching by the ensign.
The ensign looked to Davis, and Davis, with a grimace, said, “We might as well sit down and chat a bit. From the files you sent there are, suddenly, whole sections of the ship that are off limits absent probable cause. About the only part of the ship we could search would be those cargo holds leased to the bu—ah, Parthians.”
“And here is their representative. Checkgok, these are Lieutenant Davis, Ensign Hubbard, and I don’t believe I caught your name, Chief,” Captain Gold said.
“Garnjag, sir.”
“Checkgok has two roles on the ship. It is the trade representative of the Zheck Clan and, at the same time, the trader for the Pandora. Some of the cargo belongs to the ship and through the ship to me, and of course, the professors and their family. As to which is which, you’ll have to ask Checkgok. I couldn’t possibly keep track of it all.”
“It is all quite clearly delineated, Captain,” Checkgok said rather stiffly. “In fact, the record of what cargo is owned by the ship and what is owned by the Zheck clan has already been sent to the Tortuga.”
“Yes, we received them,” said Lieutenant Davis. “Your clan seems to have done rather poorly?”
“Not at all. We have letters of credit from the System Bank of Danworth and from the Danworth branch of the Cordoba Bank. While such documents might not be all that useful in Drake space, in Cordoba space they will allow us to refill our holds soon enough.”
“Not that we’re pleased to be running light at the moment,” Captain Gold added. “It’s never profitable to run empty.”
“We are not running empty, Captain,” the Parthian said. “We have a good stock of equipment that is in need of repair.” It turned its eyestalks to the crew of the Tortuga. “About the only bargains we could find in Danworth were in the junk yards out in the belts. Our hope is to do some repairs on the equipment as we travel and sell it in outsystems.”
They chatted and after a few minutes, Davis said, “The problem, of course, is that the Zheck Clan goods are not, in fact, Checkgok’s goods. They belong to a clan, and as such are subject to inspection. And in the case of even the slightest discrepancy . . . for instance, the Conda rose sap. That is from a Drake world, and it’s hardly likely that you have the proper seals to prove it was transferred legally. Now, old spacer that I am, I understand how these things happen. But—” A quite histrionic sigh. “—young Hubbard, here, is right out of the academy. All book learning and academy discipline.”
Hubbard tried to look stiff and offended, but mostly only managed confused.
“Hubbard is liable to insist on a thorough search and there’s not much I can do about it. He’s technically within his rights.”
“And what do you think it would take to convince Ensign Hubbard to get off his high horse and stroll around with the mortals?” asked Professor Schmitz.
Ensign Hubbard’s look of outrage would have been much more convincing if he wasn’t grinning.
“Ship’s safety is of course paramount,” Davis said, and there wasn’t even a hint of humor in his voice. “We’ve been having trouble with the stern C wing for months and it’s getting worse. I was working on it when you folks showed up, as it happens. And I am fairly sure that it’s the control circuitry.”
Hubbard blurted, “I thought it was the lining, sir.”
“So did I,” Davis told him. “And I still think that’s a part of the problem. But the control circuitry isn’t compensating the way it should.”
“Are you authorized to buy a new controller?” asked Professora Stuard.
“No, I’m afraid not, except in case of an emergency. And while it’s an increasingly severe problem, it’s nowhere near emergency status yet.”
“Well, I don’t see how we can help you then,” she said. “After all, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for having unauthorized parts.”
“Oh well, as to that, minor repairs we can do. It’s expected.”
“You just can’t pay for it,” Professora Stuard said.
Lieutenant Davis shrugged meaningfully. “I did notice that two of the artificial brains that Checkgok sold to Professor Schmitz this morning were wing controllers. It would be helpful if we could replace the stern A and C together.”
“I don’t think that is necessary,” said Professor Schmitz. “With a proper tie-in, the artificial for the C should be able to fit itself to the A’s output.”
The discussion got technical then, but when the customs patrol left, Lieutenant Davis was carrying a case with an artificial brain the size of a grain of rice and connecting circuitry in it. And the inspection never got past the lounge.
∞ ∞ ∞
“You lucky bastard,” Jacolin Tie groused. “You got a wing controller brain. Your Davis is bragging about it. You could have tried for two and shared.”
“I did try for two. Well, Warner did.” Commander Pavel Stein decided not to mention that even if they had gotten two, they would have kept them both. “Besides, what are you complaining about? You’re lead on the next one.”
Chapter
16
The shield missile represents a major leap in weapons development. Its effect on the political stability of the Pamplona Sector is harder to judge. Certainly it had an influence, but how much and in which direction is harder to say.
From the debate between Doctor Gregory Forbush and Doctor Ellen Drake, University of Danworth History Department,
Standard Year 674
Location: Delta System, Cordoba Space, Pandora
Standard Date: 07 12 630
Delta System had no habitable planets. It started out as a military system and, to an extent, it still was. There were five Cordoba jump chains that came together in Delta system. That made it an excellent place to put a naval base to control all five chains. It also made it an excellent place to tranship cargo. However, the borders of Cordoba space moved away from Delta system decades ago, so while there was a naval base, it was an older one with not a lot of ships.
On the other hand, there were thousands of warehouse stations holding billions of tons of goods. There were banks and factors and merchants of all sorts. It was an excellent place to buy cargoes from all over Cordoba space.
Standard Date: 07 16 630
“I’m a space viking,” caroled Angi Schmitz.
“Space vikings are bad,” insisted little Geri.
“Space vikings are courageous, and I am courageous.”
“Space vikings don’t exist,” Jenny told the arguing girls. “What you run into are pirates. And you don’t want to run into pirates. They send hunter-nukes after you.”
That got the girls’ attention, and Jenny ended up telling them the story of their encounter with the Brass Hind.
∞ ∞ ∞
Angi sat at the table with Rosi and Geri, and listened to the story. It was exciting and she liked it, but she thought Jenny must be fibbing. She didn’t say that out loud. She liked Jenny and didn’t want the older girl mad at her.
She knew that sometimes people lied, but she just wasn’t sure this time. What she found most unbelievable was that another kid would be able to come up with the suggestion that would save the day. She looked over at Rosi and Geri. They were all ears, and she could tell that they believed every word.
Angi had no notion of the validity of the suggestion itself. She was seven and she was still studying the history of the Cordobas, not the really old stuff before the first jump ship. So she decided to ask her dad.
∞ ∞ ∞
Robert sat Angi on his lap and asked, “So what’s the problem, Angel?”
She told him Jenny’s story. He found the story unlikely, partly because of the notion that in the middle of a battle the adults would be consulting a ten-year-old, but mostly because he wasn’t at all sure that a ship’s boat could do that. None of the ship’s boats he had ever flown could even fly without a person on board.
A thought stopped him.
That wasn’t entirely true. The ship’s boat on the Pan could be sent out on its own. It generally wasn’t, but it could be. And there was a very different feel to flying it than there was to the other ship’s boats he had flown. He still doubted that Jenny Starchild came up with the notion, but maybe the idea itself was real.
“It could be, Angi. It could be. Let me talk it over with your granddad and maybe Captain Gold.”
∞ ∞ ∞
Gerhard looked up from his scope when Robert came in. “What can I do for you?” He was just a little irritated by yet another interruption of his work.
“It’s not urgent, Dad, but if you have a minute I’d like to get your take on a story Jenny Starchild told the girls. I think it’s probably made up, but it did get me curious.”
Gerhard looked back at the scope and realized that it was past time to take a break anyway. Besides, in his experience, Jenny was an honest kid. “I’ve got time, son. I’m just grumpy when I’m working. What’s the story?”
“Well, the way I got it from Angi, Jenny told the grownups how to stop a hunter-nuke. Using a shuttle.”
Gerhard laughed out loud. “Oh? How? Seriously, I didn’t think Jenny had the imagination to make up something like that. I mean, you know hitting the nuke with a shuttle would be like hitting one bullet with another. The stuff of fantasy.”
Robert grinned back at him. “Yep, I know. But according to Angi, they ran a superconducting cable out of the shuttle and used it to produce a mag wing to fool the hunter and make it go off ahead of time.”
Gerhard felt the blood drain from his face as the import of those words reached him.
Gerhard’s specialty was cybernetic brains and control circuitry, and he realized that a very strong, rapidly fluctuating, magnetic field would fry the brain of any hunter-nuke. It would fry any artificial and almost any circuit up to the size that involved visible wire and larger. It was the equivalent of the EMP of pre-space nukes. Except it was stronger and, being contained and controlled, lasted much longer. Even if the hunter-nuke had not been fooled into going off, it would have been rendered so much junk by passing through the wing. That, after all, was the major reason that hunter-nukes were designed to go off when they got in range of an active wing.
His first impulse was to report the new discovery to the Cordoba Combine. He was a Cordoba Stockholder and had the same loyalty to the Combine that would be expected of any citizen of any country throughout history. Even more, because he was a fairly privileged person in the Combine’s structure.
But that impulse was quickly contained. Contained by his recent experiences on Danworth and the willingness of the Cordoba Stockholder Relations Officer for the Danworth system to side with the cretins.
He knew, or thought he did, what the Combine would do. It would suppress the whole thing and him with it. Them with it, for the suppression would include Danny Gold, Pandora, and her entire crew. Include his granddaughters, his wife, his son.
No. In spite of his loyalty to the Cordoba Combine, he would not be sharing this tidbit. Not with the Cordoba Combine, anyway.
On the other hand, if Jenny Starchild’s story was true, there really were pirates in space and some of them came equipped with hunter-nukes. And that meant this ship needed weapons to fight them.
“What is it, Dad?” Robert asked, sounding concerned. “You’ve gone white.”
Gerhard took a breath, stood up, walked over to the pedestal that held Sally’s cybernetic brain, then walked back to his chair while he tried to figure out what to do. “Robert, don’t talk about this, not to anyone. Sit the girls down and make it clear that this is a secret.”
“Come on, Dad!” Robert said. “Even if it’s true, it’s just a trick and it uses up a ship’s boat every time you pull it, even if it works.”
Gerhard started to explain, then stopped himself. “Trust me on this, son. At least for now.”
Once Robert left, Gerhard called the Pandora. “Pan, Jenny told the girls about your encounter with the pirate.”
“What did she say?”
“She said you used a shuttle with a superconducting cable to mimic a ships wing.”
“Excuse me for a moment, Doctor. I need to discuss this with Captain Gold.”
It was only a few moments, then Danny Gold came on the comm. “That’s essentially what happened. I wish Jenny hadn’t shared it, but . . .” He laughed. “It was her idea. I would prefer you not mention it. It’s a useful trick and one I’d like to keep to ourselves.”
Gerhard felt a momentary relief as Danny spoke, but it was only momentary. Just what they already did gave the basics. As soon as their ‘little trick’ reached the ears of a halfway competent engineer, the secret would be out. “Captain, this is a strategic game changer.”
“I don’t see the great advantage,” Danny told Gerhard. “We were lucky it fooled the hunter-nuke as it was, and it was a pretty expensive defense.”
“No. Actually, you were unlucky that it fooled the hunter-nuke. If it had tried to go through the wing to get to you, its circuitry would have been fried. Though I sus— I’m honestly not sure if it wo
uld have been set off by the field. I know if I were designing one, it would be. But if they got fancy, put in a safety circuit to keep it from taking out friends’ wings, it would have gone through the wing and become an inert piece of nuclear space junk. Its brain would be fried and it never would have gone off.
“Nor do you need a ship’s boat to put up the wing. Something not much larger than . . .” Gerhard stopped again. “. . . Pandora, how are hunter-nukes launched?”
“The same way as other missiles,” Pan said, “by using the wings.”
“See, if they were going to be fried by the wing, they would be fried on launch,” Danny Gold said.
“Captain Gold, I know what an electronic pulse like that is going to do to a circuit.”
“Pan?” Captain Gold asked.
“I’m not sure, but I think I know where we can find out. Hirum served in the system defense force for his home system for several years, and according to his records he was a missile tech for part of that time.”
“It would be Hirum,” Danny Gold muttered. “Call him, Pan. Ask him about how they launch hunter nukes without frying their brains.”
Almost, Gerhard objected. But they needed to know.
Moments later, Hirum said over the comm, “They’re hardened for the launch, but they can’t operate in that state. Hunter-nukes are launched in a Faraday sheath. It’s popped by a simple timer after the nuke is out away from the wings. Mostly the timers are set for long enough for the nukes to get well away from the launching ship.”
“That would explain it,” Gerhard agreed.
“So you’re saying we have a brand new weapons system?” asked Pandora.
“No,” Gerhard said, wondering if Hirum was still in on the discussion. “I’m saying we have the nubbin of the beginnings of the concept of a brand new weapons system. We will have to come up with ways of launching the wing without frying them. Probably the same sabot-style Faraday sheath that the hunter-nukes use to survive being launched by the wing.”
“Couldn’t they put a second sheath on the nuke in case it ran into . . .” Captain Gold stopped speaking, and Gerhard knew where his mind was going.