by Mark Wandrey
Gregg confirmed the new settings and lowered his face shield. He was game to try again. Bzzsnaap, BANG, thud. The sequence worked fine, and now pig entrails decorated the walls of the range. “Shit,” Mandi groaned. A long rope of intestines slid from the wall with a plop, and she ran for the small bathroom, one hand over her mouth, retching.
“I think we can cut down the plasma charge,” Alijah said, looking a little green himself.
“I kinda like the effect,” Gregg said. Aaron shrugged.
“Gun one, pig zero,” Pip agreed. “Looks like a damn pig milkshake!”
Minu couldn’t care less. She was busy analyzing the data from the impact and figuring out the best way to fine-tune the results. “We need to incorporate some sort of sensor,” she said. “The weapon could then adjust the charge depending on the target.”
“As if there aren’t enough bells and whistles already?” Pip asked.
“It’s too complicated for the infantryman to make the adjustments on the spot.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good.” Minu looked down and saw that the crab-bots had finished clearing away most of the carcass. “Bring in another pig, and let’s try fine-tuning the charge.”
Mandi stepped out of the bathroom just as Aaron fired the gun. This time, the entire pig didn’t explode, just its central body cavity. It rolled on the floor squealing in agony, trailing innards. Mandi didn’t make it to the bathroom.
“Kinda delicate, isn’t she?” Minu asked Aaron. He shrugged and looked sheepish.
Mandi finished throwing up and tried not to look at the dead pig. “Do we have to use live pigs?”
Aaron and Gregg looked at each other, then at Minu. “No, I don’t suppose so,” Minu said finally.
“Makes it more interesting,” Gregg said as the crab-bot brought in another pig. Aaron nodded and raised the weapon, and Mandi ran for the bathroom. After they completed the testing, the team enjoyed an impromptu barbecue outside the HERT. The scent of roasted pork, cooked to perfection, drew many Chosen from the nearby complex. No one could find Mandi.
* * * * *
Chapter 9
May 23rd, 518 AE
Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass
Minu’s communicator buzzed, and she snatched it up, hoping it was Christian. Light spilled in through her window, its angle suggesting it was early morning. “Chosen Alma here.”
“I need to see you in my office.” The voice spoke of age and tiredness.
“Bjorn?” The man grunted in reply. “Sure, when?”
“Ten minutes, if possible.”
Minu jumped out of bed and struggled to shed her clothes before sliding into her billet’s tiny shower. She was clean and out before the water was entirely hot. She quickly towel-dried her shoulder-length hair before throwing on a uniform jumpsuit and pulling her boots onto bare feet. She’d been so busy she’d neglected to do her laundry. There wasn’t a clean pair of socks in sight. Exactly ten minutes after the call, she walked through the outer entrance to his office.
His young receptionist wasn’t on duty yet, so she walked up to the inner door and knocked smartly. “Come in,” said a feminine voice. She opened the door and entered.
“Thanks for coming so quickly,” Bjorn said, standing near the door instead of behind his desk. He was stoop shouldered and looked a hundred years old. A young Chosen Minu had never seen before occupied the desk. She had two gold stars on her sleeve, which spoke volumes about the situation.
“No problem, sir. What’s happening?”
“I’m retiring,” he said dejectedly. “It is time for a change.”
“Retiring, or being forced out?”
“Now, now,” the woman behind the desk said, and she rose to come around. “Change can be a good thing, young lady.” Minu glanced around, taking in the subtle changes in the office. The haphazard piles of technology and experiments were gone, replaced by a Spartan working environment. Several desktop computers sat at ideal working distances from the desk. A pair of carved marble bookends, adorned with mythical figures struggling to hold the books up, bracketed volumes of hard copy novels. Minu wished she could see some of the books so she could gain a better understanding of this new person. A single photo frame rested on the desk, facing away from her. Minu didn’t like being called a young lady, especially by another female Chosen!
“Change can also be premature and ill conceived.”
“It’s not necessary, Minu,” Bjorn said and held up a hand.
“Not necessary to stand up for a Chosen whose performance of his duties for the Tog and Bellatrix has been exemplary? In my opinion it isn’t only necessary, honor demands it.”
Bjorn smiled forlornly as the new two-star commander came over. “This is Chosen Jasmine Osgood. She’s now in command of Science.”
“Isn’t it tradition that a member of the Science branch be in command?” Minu asked, unwilling to let it go.
“I’m glad to finally meet the young daughter of our previous First,” Jasmine said and held out her hand. “Sometimes traditions have to be broken.”
Minu took her hand somewhat reluctantly, finding her grip weak and slightly sweaty. Those hands had never spent a hard day working or fighting. She was as petite as Minu, but a dozen centimeters taller. Her face was triangular with sharp cheekbones and long, jet-black hair. Her eyes were green, like Minu’s, but had a distinct epicanthic fold. “There aren’t many Chosen from the Peninsula Tribe,” Minu noted coolly.
“No, our people tend to keep to themselves. The survivors from Japan were independent people, not as technologically fortunate as your own Plateau Tribe. We only realized the Concordia had returned after many years. Most other tribes thought our people were extinct. My uncle was the first from our tribe to be Chosen; I’m the tenth.”
“You must be very proud.” Minu saw her green eyes narrow and knew she’d hit pay dirt. Jasmine turned back to her desk. She had her almost waist-length hair braided so tight it had to be painful. “Is there a reason you called me in so early? My department is very busy, and I’ve been working late…”
“Yes, we know.” Jasmine picked up a tablet and read from it, before continuing. “Someone summoned the robot maintenance team to service some of the heavy crab-bots in the HERT this morning. Turns out they were overburdened from cleaning up a large quantity of blood and pig offal!”
“Oh, yes,” Minu said with a chuckle.
“I believe I already explained,” Bjorn said.
“I’d like to hear it from the young lady herself.”
“First, I’d like you to stop calling me a young lady.” Minu’s green eyes flashed with anger. “You’re not exactly an old woman yourself.” Jasmine was halfway into her seat, but she hesitated a second, her face growing stormy. “Second, the details are all in my reports, as are copies of the requisitions for the pigs. The weapon system I’m developing required live fire, real world tests.”
“Naturally; that is what the HERT you so boldly lobbied in favor of is for.” Bjorn smiled, and Jasmine speared him with a glare. His smile dimmed somewhat. “Considering the tens of thousands of credits spent on the HERT and the instrumentation installed, I fail to understand why blowing up a sounder of swine was necessary.”
“You read the report?”
“Of course, young, erm, Chosen Alma.”
“Then I believe you know the answer.” Minu saw the tinniest of nods from Bjorn, and she knew she was playing it right. Don’t hand yourself to her, Minu thought. Restating the obvious was how she wanted it to go.
“I see your reasoning, but how come the instruments couldn’t provide the answers? Surely Concordian-manufactured, multi-spectral energy analyzing machines can provide much more in depth data than blowing up a pig?”
“More data surely, but more accurate data is another thing.”
“Explain yourself.”
“I keep having to do that. Perhaps this is the reason a scientist should run this section?”
/> “You’re no scientist yourself,” Jasmine pointed out.
“I have bachelor’s degrees in physics and electrical engineering, and I’m halfway to a master’s in physics.” Bjorn coughed to cover up a choked laugh. Jasmine began turning red. “Anyway, the targets used by the Concordian analysis devices gather a large amount of data. That data alone cannot predict a weapon’s actual impact.”
“That’s what they are supposed to do.”
“Maybe, but the targets aren’t consumed.”
“There would be little purpose for the destruction of the targets if they can’t register the data.”
“This weapon system causes secondary damage through exploded tissue, as the crab-bots can testify. How is a hunk of dualloy and moliplas supposed to simulate burning skin, boiling flesh, shattering bone, and exploding internal organs?”
Jasmine sat for a minute, then picked up her tablet. She appeared to be scrolling through Minu’s report from the previous night, but Minu knew better. Jasmine plainly hadn’t expected this ‘young girl’ to be any sort of scientist. After all, Minu wore four gold stars, not silver. Clearly caught off balance, she was desperately trying to recover.
“I can perhaps understand the necessity of some limited and controlled testing of that sort. But live pigs? Good Lord, how horrible.”
“How horrible would it be to deploy these guns without knowing how they work or how they kill? How do you think our scouts will feel when they can’t properly use the guns and get slaughtered? Maybe if we’d killed a few pigs with the beamcasters before rushing them into service, we wouldn’t have lost as many men.”
“Maybe if you’d left them where you found them, the Rasa wouldn’t be using us for target practice.”
“That issue is no longer on the table,” said a new voice. Minu turned and saw Jacob standing in the doorway.
Jasmine fairly leaped to her feet. “First Jacob, I didn’t expect you here this early.”
“No, I don’t imagine you did,” said Dram as he came in behind Jacob, “after all, this meeting was planned for almost an hour from now.” Jasmine’s jaw worked back and forth. Minu understood a little better.
“I was getting to know this young Chosen,” Jasmine said and gestured to Minu.
“A little harmless grilling,” Bjorn said.
“Not a problem,” Minu smiled and bowed slightly. “Any time you’d like another science lesson, let me know.” Minu was certain the top of Jasmine’s head was going to blow off. Bjorn underwent a minor coughing fit, Dram showed his bright white teeth, and Minu thought she saw a hint of a smile behind Jacob’s scowl.
“As I’m sure you already know,” Jacob said and gestured them all to seats, “we’re making some changes. Bjorn has relinquished command of the Science department to move in a new direction.”
“Where is he going?” Minu asked, not waiting for Jacob to continue. He looked annoyed, but he answered.
“Bjorn has formed a new research team with Dr. Ted Hurt and Pipson Leata.”
“Pip’s on my team.”
“Not any more. You’re being reassigned, as well.”
“What?”
“We’re giving you your own scout team,” Dram said with a smile. “You’ve earned it.”
“No,” Minu said adamantly. “I have work to finish here, first.”
“Only a few months ago, you insisted on transferring immediately,” Jacob pointed out. “Dram told me you demanded a transfer right after the deployment of the beamcasters.”
“I did, true, but that was before I’d made so much progress.”
“We are glad you’re making progress,” Jasmine said condescendingly, “and I’m sure your replacement will have wonderful success.”
“I refuse the transfer.”
“You can’t do that!” Jasmine spoke louder than she’d intended and looked self-conscious.
“Yes, I can. Section eleven of the regulations states that if a Chosen is involved in vital research, they can temporarily refuse transfer, reassignment, or retirement.”
The other Chosen looked at each other, clearly caught off guard. Out of the corner of her eye, Minu saw Jasmine consult a computer, and she hoped she’d memorized the regulation correctly.
“What can you say?” Dram asked. “The lady knows her regulations.” Minu desperately wanted to give the big man a hug for calling her ‘lady’ instead of ‘young lady.’”
“It isn’t her place to question this decision,” Jasmine argued.
“It’s completely reasonable,” Bjorn said.
Jacob silenced them with an upheld hand. “Unless I’m mistaken, I am the First, and I will make the policy decisions!” Dram nodded, and Bjorn stopped talking, looking embarrassed. Jasmine looked profoundly betrayed. Minu wondered if Jasmine was taking over the job in the HERT armory Mandi had applied for a few months earlier. “Your request to delay transfer is granted. You have six months.”
“Six months?!”
“That is correct.”
“I don’t know if that’s enough time.”
“Nevertheless, it’s what I’m giving you. The regulation states the transfer delay is at the discretion of your department head.”
“But that’s me,” Jasmine whined.
“However, it’s up to me to decide if the research is of vital interest and, based on the test reports I read this morning, I have to agree with Chosen Alma that they are. I’m pulling rank on this one and overriding you.”
“Thank you,” Minu said quietly. Jasmine chewed her tongue, a small vein standing out on her forehead.
“Don’t ever thank me for doing my job. Maybe use dead pigs next time?”
“Actually,” Minu said with a little smile, “the new gun fires a laser to channel the plasma. The pig jumped when the laser burned it, making the main charge miss.”
“How’d you solve that?” Jacob asked.
“We tinkered with the ionizing cycle rate of the laser. It cycles fast enough now that the plasma blast hits before the animal knows it’s burned.”
Jacob nodded thoughtfully. “Well done. You have six months; you’d better get back to work.” She nodded and smiled at Jasmine as she left. Bjorn smiled and clenched his fist in victory. Dram’s expression told her not to worry, and an underlying confidence showed through. As she left, Minu knew she’d won a sort of victory, at the cost of a friend and ally. She also knew she’d made a new enemy.
Once she was gone Jasmine started complaining, but Jacob silenced her with a wave of his hand. “Don’t even try; my decision is final. Bjorn, what do you think of this new shock rifle?”
“If she can get it to work, it’ll be nothing short of revolutionary. I don’t know if the Concordia has ever had anything comparable. It’ll be less lethal than many of their weapons. Of course, lethality isn’t everything. When you consider the potential versatility of a human wielding it? The thing could be as close to perfect as possible.” Jacob nodded his head. “Minu is probably the most creative, tenacious, and downright resourceful Chosen I’ve ever known. And in fifty years I’ve known a lot.” Jacob’s frown deepened.
“What can I say?” Dram said, and they all looked at him. “The lady takes after her dad!” Jasmine’s scowl rivaled Jacob’s; the two looked like bookends.
* * * * *
Chapter 10
June 2nd, 518 AE
Science Branch, Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass
A certain degree of desperation set in as Minu confronted the deadline. The biggest part of the problem wasn’t the engineering, which was already three-quarters completed; it was the materials. To develop the weapon for its intended purpose, they needed to source an extensive wish list of components, and they needed to find them locally to avoid alien curiosity. On Bellatrix, the availability of the required parts ranged from uncommon to unheard of.
“The laser collimator is the trickiest,” Pip said as they gazed at her creation. Just like when they were working on the beamcaster, they’d exploded her shock
rifle and mounted it on the wall. Their first project had dealt with unknown, unlabeled components. Now they knew what they needed but had no idea where to get it. Pip segmented the design into three main problem areas: the laser collimator, the plasma channel, and the targeting computer. “The plasma channel is off the shelf, even if we don’t have them on hand. But we can’t come close on the targeting computer, really.”
“Then why isn’t the computer the trickiest?” Mandi asked.
“Because I don’t want to consider the impossible just yet. Let’s tackle the possible first.”
Minu smiled at her friends, although knowing this would be the last project they worked on together gave the whole project a melancholic feeling. Of them all, Mandi was the only one who wasn’t upset they were breaking up. Minu knew there was bad blood between them, and her relationship with Aaron was just the latest insult, even if Minu would never admit it to herself.
“Okay,” Minu said after staring at the components for a long time, “first things first. We need to create a list of parts needed for a run of one hundred shock rifles.”
“One hundred?” Terry exclaimed. “We can’t make one without linking it to an exterior computer.”
“Not to mention using components so large the damn thing is bigger than the beamcaster,” Alijah agreed.
“You’re right, but worrying about what we can’t do is a waste of time. Let’s put together the list so we can get a good feel for what we’re missing and figure out how to get around the shortfalls.” A few days later they’d assembled the bin of parts. Minu felt hopeless when she saw how many were missing or incompatible. Maybe Terry was right, this was a waste of time.
Pip rubbed his chin and nodded. “This isn’t as bad as it looks. We’ve got more than half the components, maybe more if I poke around the network.” Minu looked at him in concern. He winked, and she relaxed.
“Okay, as a team we need to look for the big three missing pieces. We have three options. One, we find enough of each component for our initial production run. Two, we modify existing or attainable units to fit our needs. Three, we find a suitable replacement. The next progress meeting is in a week.”