Trade World Saga 1: Manual Interpretation (12 page)

The project, as one might think, was not plagued by as many gawkers and sightseers; due to its location at the desert university, but the motels and trailer parks began to fill up west of town. This aided security but hindered construction, since many of the building materials were delayed in transit from the heavy traffic.

Andrew paced back and forth, as he fumed because of a recent notification of two weeks delay in several needed components. Noting the reason for Andrew's state from Susan, Brad entered the lab and plopped down on a stool to watch Andrew continue his pacing.

"Hello," Brad said, "I can remember a time when you used to be cordial and say 'hello' back."

Andrew stopped and tossed his head back he ran his fingers through his hair and let out a piteous sigh.

"Hi Brad," Andrew said turning to Brad. "Don't try to cheer me up;

I'm past hope. Every time I bury myself in research, I feel I lose control of the project. When I come up for air, someone else is trying to run the show. I'm going nuts. My blood pressure has gone to 160 over 90 with every indication of going higher. Now that I've come to a resting point, I can't get all the materials for my other sections."

"Easy does it," Brad said, "All work and no play made Jack a pain to be around and all that. Those people who were managing the construction for you -- while you were doing research -- were assigned by me."

"By you! Where do you get off assigning anybody? . . Even that woman I had to run off?" Andrew asked incredulously.

"Yes, by me. Those were professional project managers who are constantly briefed on current problems here and the government sent them to us to keep this project on schedule."

"But that woman and those two guys acted like they owned the whole show."

"Especially the woman," Brad said. "They are the best in the field. They were sent to complete this project. This project, especially this particular project, has to be kept on or ahead of schedule to satisfy the demand of the public. Tell me; did they botch any of your plans? What irritated you the most and I'll order them to change it?"

"Well, I couldn't find anything they had done wrong. We are right on schedule in spite of all the problems. We'll even begin dry dock tests a week ahead of schedule in spite of this component delay."

"You're just pigheaded. It hurt your vanity to have someone else in the driver's seat even if you had gone to sleep at the wheel, now didn't it?"

"I guess so. I won't have them run this project though, it's our concern."

Brad looked bemused. "Don't you realize how much support you've actually had? Did you realize why there were never any visitors you didn't wish to see? Did you wonder how all the finances and paperwork just zipped through? Weren’t you trying to get a synthesist degree? If it hadn't been for Susan and a whole support and security staff I assigned her, you would still be trying to get out of the blueprint stage; if someone hadn't stolen those first and killed all of your people."

"Maybe I've been kind of foolish. Maybe I'll look up a friend and take a night off," Andrew said.

"Maybe you should. That's the best idea you've come up with in a while. You're already thinking clearer. We can handle it even if you take a week off, but don't take me literally on that," Brad said grinning. "When you get back I've got a little side gift designed just for you."

"I'm afraid to ask, knowing you these six months now. Anyway, I'll see you."

REVIEWING RETT’S INTERROGATION

As Andrew relaxed with Susan on Earth, an officer in the Exploration Service began perusing Rett’s interrogation summary in deep space. As the ES officer read, she became very concerned at the lackadaisical manner the report had been written. Sending for the interrogation officer, she found he had shipped back to his home planet shortly after this interrogation. She immediately sent for the interrogator's replacement. When he arrived, she was shocked by how young he looked. If she were only a few decades younger, she would ask him home. If he was as energetic as he looked, they might even share names. Enough of fantasy, she thought; I have my duty.

"Do you remember a report about a Tros, who visited a planet in this spiral arm recently?" she indicated the chart.

"Yes, I acted as facilitator in the case," answered the young officer.

Hiding her shock and disgust at finding this being was one of those who tortured others, she ordered, "You will go to the planet this Tros visited and investigate for culture contamination. Your future rests on the successful completion of this case. This may be the last patrol in that entire area."

Until the last statements, he was going to tell her that he never had gotten the exact co-ordinates of the planet because it hadn't seemed very important at the time. Anyway, how could one homemade, solo ship contaminate much of a culture. The most advanced races in this spiral arm were mainly gobbling savages if there was any life at all. Everyone knew this duty was perfunctory and the E.S. weakened more as it expanded in coverage. There was usually little to trade for on those backward worlds anyway, the officer thought.

Noticing a long pause on the part of the young officer, she demanded, "Do you understand?'

"I understand," he said shocked by his own lack of discipline.

As he turned and walked away, he thought. I shall have to go and find this 'Rett.' At least, his whereabouts are definitely known. I'll get the co-ordinates from him.

He launched a ship shortly afterward and his handpicked crew sped to find Rett.

BRAD PROTECTS PROJECT

Brad sat down to a pile of reports. As he leaned back in his chair, he reviewed some of the older reports before placing them in memory storage.

Damned serious, Brad thought. First, there were attacks by lone agents. The first two we captured had provided a wealth of information. Funny... they were sent by separate unaligned nations. Before they were finally persuaded they had been reluctant to give any information - before they died those two talked freely enough. Too bad I had to kill that last one... and that one in front of Fran. She's got a cool head, that one. I can rely on her to keep quiet - even from the group. Plus. Those first ones sent by Philips crew...How long before the oil industry, sent their people in?

Pulling another stack of reports to him, his thoughts were grim. Now there's wide-scale sabotage at the firms we've contracted with for parts. Delays… always delays and I can't tell anyone why. At least we have alternate suppliers for all the vital components. Now that we've organized against this sabotage, we can cut down those delays.

Infiltration of the university work area - between the kooks, cults, and plants, it's hard to keep a reliable work crew. This place would grind to a halt, if I hadn't put my own operatives into the civilian work force here. Looking at the reports: sabotaged transformers and heavy equipment, damn.

The alert tone sounded on Brad's Mem-Dex startling out of his reverie.

"Sir. This is Chafee. Response Team Three is under heavy attack. I'm taking Team Five to reinforce Three. Looks like almost a company strength group of light infantry stumbled into Three's perimeter. Looks like the Border Patrol alert wasn't a dummy after all."

"Lieutenant. I want to know exactly what's going on over there. Call in one other team, Team Two, if you have to… Try to save any of their officers for interrogation."

"Yes sir. Out."

The time dragged by agonizingly until the lieutenant reported back.

"Colonel. We've stabilized the situation. We still have some scattered fire but two squads from Five, are eliminating stragglers."

"Casualties?"

"Twelve per cent (12%) in Three and Six per cent (6%) in Five.

"Any of their officers captured alive?"

"Sir. We have three with minor wounds. One of them is very inclined to talk."

"Well?"

"Seems they're mercenaries flown in from a rendezvous point in Old Mexico. They were more surprised than we were when they walked into Three's perimeter. Three activated their APM-E's. I guess it really upset the mercenaries to hit heavy resistance, fourteen kilometers from a supposedly lightly guarded objective. Finding that out in the middle of a minefield helped the numerical odds. We cut them up but they still fought like hell."

"Very well. I want detailed personnel and equipment loss reports. Tell the men they did a good job. Kyger out."

Brad leaned on the desk and ran his fingers through his hair. It's hard to act like nothing is wrong in front of the group, Brad thought. Orders... Duty... Duality, Brad thought and pulled open the drawer that held a bottle of Jack Daniels Black Label.

NEW WEAPONS

Andrew returned to Tod's lab only to see Brad swearing at a piece of equipment Steve, Tod, and Desiree were holding. Andrew came ambling over to see the show.

"What's this?" Andrew asked. "I don't remember this on any of our plans.

With several more invectives and banging of a torque wrench, Brad pulled his arm out of the mechanism and wiping the greasy arm across his face he said, "My arm was longest. Tod's arm was too big to fit or so he says. I told him chemists aren't mechanics but he told me how much fun it was.”

"I repeat," Andrew said, "What is it?"

"A death ray," Desiree said smirking.

Tod grinned, clapped Andrew around the shoulders, and gestured toward the mechanism with his free hand. "What she is kidding you about is this…it is a Focused Burst Fast-Neutron Projector. It was her idea in a way. She showed how the cold fusion reaction could be used in short bursts to produce tremendous amounts of energy. We channel this energy briefly into storage as a plasma field, just for milliseconds, and this rotating head, with the aid of a computer-aided system Steve worked out, directs a beam of fast neutrons to any point within line of sight."

"OK," Andrew said, "But what's it for? What would it do?"

"A death ray," Desiree chimed in.

Tod scowled at Desiree, "I…
we
figured we might need some protection if we actually go anywhere."

"I think this is an example of a synthesist project that has gotten entirely out of hand. Did you do this in two days?"

"No, it took a rethink of the incident with John. I was waiting on some components and Desiree came up with this idea. Even with this design, it's only good for a few shots before it uses up its deuterium. The technological construction details were there, it just needed a new energy source. We can also build some free electron lasers too if you want more protection now. We'd have variable frequency lasers for any occasion. They'd be stout."

"You know, that might not be such a bad idea," Andrew said thinking back on the learning machine in the alien craft and some of what he had remembered about the Tros, as he had come to learn of their name from the machine. He remembered the many names of weapons in that language. He realized they still hadn’t figured how the aliens could “dissolve” matter – or “disassociate” matter if that was the case. Andrew remembered the hand weapon the alien used that made part of the floor dissolve. Weapons were called for but how could they be used and what were there capabilities?

In the meantime, Rett, upon reaching his home planet, had regaled his associates with stories of great adventures with a tribe of savages he had brought under control. He told them that the savages had worshiped him as a god but he neglected to tell them of his rescue by a native who later bested him and stole his experimental belt. He also neglected to tell of his run-in with the Exploration Service. Soon he began to half believe his own tales - thus any preparation for leaving his world was forgotten.

At the next group conference, Ling asked about the particle projector and lasers, "How good does it work through the driving field? Does it distort your aim?"

"I don't know; I didn't think about that." Andrew said looking to Tod and Joel.

"Don't look at me," Joel said, "I just designed pods in the ship's hull where the guns are mounted. That wasn't a piece of cake. Ask Tod."

Tod looked sheepish. "Well, I'll get right on it."

"You mean," Andrew said, "that we've got armament mounted that we don't know will work. I'd hate to have to shut off our field to take a shot at something. Let's dump a 'b-zillion' gigawatts of energy inside our own field. Good design. Really top of the line thinking."

"They'll work all right. We proved that," Tod stated relating some target practice Andrew knew nothing about. "I'll test through a moderate field in the morning. We'll work out a solution."

"If you will give us a brief progress report, Susan, we will all go get some sleep," Andrew said.

"The ship is practically complete. Environmental, power, armament,” she said the last with a questioning inflection in her voice. “Field generators, computer and communications systems are all complete. Dry dock tests are complete, though Tod melted a few scaffold girders because the ship's field was quite a bit larger than we anticipated during our first test."

She continued, "We've got problems synchronizing the external field and the interior, secondary field that maintains normal inertia. Tod and Fran had a rough go at it until Tod could cut out
a control head that malfunctioned. Symptoms were vertigo, nausea, and a distortion of the time sense."