M
MonkeyLord
Guest
“Specify Floor Please”
“Lido Deck.”
The synthetic, female voice responded promptly. Alan loved the unplaceable European accent. “Lido Deck, authorized personnel only.”
Alan placed his thumb on the scan pad in front of him.
“Authorization approved for Alan Foster.”
Almost imperceptibly, the maglift began its smooth ascent to the Lido Deck, where most of the managerial offices of the complex are found. Alan yawned, rubbing the tension from the bridge of his nose. He’d been working weekends for the past 8 months on an unrelenting schedule, grueling even by Vulcan Aerospace standards. Thankfully, the overtime credit was excessive… and he looked forward to the day when he could actually spend that credit on something other than coffee and take-out from the cafeteria. That wouldn’t be for another 5 weeks, however. For now, work must continue at a feverish pace if the Pandora was to meet its rather ambitious launch date.
A chime sounded.“Lido Deck.”
The maglift doors opened to the gleaming white halls of the station’s office interior. As Alan made his way down the corridor, he reflected on just how clean the environment was in this place… almost to the point of nauseating. To punctuate the thought, he could hear the faint whir of a vacuum elsewhere on the floor. The MNE294 (or ‘Minnie’, as those in the office affectionately called the robotic cleaning unit) was undoubtedly making her rounds, given the late hour.
Jim’s office door was already open. It always took a moment for Alan’s eyes to adjust to the interior of this particular room, which stood in stark contrast to the gleaming, sterile corridor outside. With walls paneled in stained oak, a thick, luxurious forest green carpet, and dimly lit by only a single old fashioned desk lamp, Jim often referred to this rather warm and comfortable room as his “cave”.
“Knock, knock. Hey Jim.”
“Come on in, Alan, just one sec.” Jim motioned for him to enter, his gaze still fixed intently on a monitor with a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose. Alan strolled in and took a seat in what he jovially called “The Comfy Chair.”
“Why do you even have glasses, Jim? I’ve never actually caught you using them.”
Jim smirked. “They’re quite fashionable, you know. Especially for old men like myself....”
“Quite right,” Alan teased.
“Damned things....” Jim pulled the old fashioned spectacles off and examined them with contempt.
“I bought these not even a year ago, and I swear to God not 3 months passed before I had to start taking them off so I could read.… Anyway, I need to talk to you about something.”
Alan shifted in his seat, stifling another yawn. “Ok, shoot.”
“Well, it seems… ” Minnie whirred obnoxiously by the open door. Agitated, Jim paused for a moment, rolling his eyes.
“Computer, close the damned door, please!” A disembodied double-beep acknowledged the command, and the door slid shut with a hydraulic whisper. Alan chuckled.
“As I was saying… it seems that the board is handing down another series of design addendums for the Pandora,” Jim said as he leaned over the overly large desk, handing Alan a clipboard sized PDA.
“What?!” Alan wheezed in disbelief. “Jim, we’re 5 weeks from delivery! The specs and design documents were approved two years ago, after 3 addendums already! What the hell are they thinking?”
Jim leaned back into his chair. His eyes were closed and his arms crossed as he pulled himself into deep thought.
“Seriously, Jim, you know I’m a team player and all that. But this is absurd. What kind of revisions are we talking about here?”
“Just look through them for a minute,” Jim replied.
Furious, Alan browsed restlessly through the first couple of introductory screens. “Oh my God, there are over 300 pages here.”
Jim didn’t reply.
Slowly, Alan’s expression drifted from consternation to confusion. He noticed at the header of the document was a deep purple security code indicator. Most of the companies on Mars had adopted a kind of universal color-coded security system for documentation that ranged from green to yellow, orange, and then red.
“Purple? What the hell is purple?”
“Along with these addendums, I also received notification that the SSPS had been upgraded by the Body Politik’s security commission as of about a year ago. It seems that this change is being shared only on a need to know basis. There are now color codes above red, purple being the next logical step, indicating a global level security clearance. And since you are already aware of how most of this stuff works, I probably don’t need to tell you that there are now consequences above and beyond simply losing your job or forfeiture of pay should you break the security protocol.”
“Holy shit….”
“Yeah, we’re talking imprisonment here.”
Unsettled, Alan began to flip more rapidly through the documents and drawings.
What in the world could be so pressing as to require a new, even more obnoxious security level? Especially for an ore freighter? I mean, I understand the need to maintain corporate secrets and the ability to compete, but on government level?
Then one set of specifications gave him pause. He brought it closer to his face, his lips moving as he read very intently. When Alan finished that page, he paused.
“Jim, these are weapon systems.”
Jim’s eyes reopened, and looked squarely into Alan’s.
“Yep.”
“Big weapon systems. We’re not talking defensive stuff, or security and law enforcement here, either. These are full-blown military grade weapon systems designed to kill other ships.”
“Yep.”
The profundity of this revelation hit Alan in the gut like a ton of bricks. Any consternation he felt over the inconvenience of minor design changes so late in the game were swept away in the raging flood of the bigger picture. The Pandora wasn’t going to be the largest, fastest ore freighter in system at all; it was going to be its first warship!
“Jim, I don’t understand… “
Jim, nodded solemnly. “Ok, let me show you a few things here… Computer, view screen on please.” Again, a double-beep of acknowledgement, and a panel on the far wall shifted like a chameleon from the predominant wall pattern to a two-meter wide computer desktop. Jim punched a few buttons on another PDA pad, and the addendum documents appeared before them.
“Ok, remember back when we were struggling with Addendum C2? Those modular container compartments that the board insisted we place in these specific locations? The Unnecessarily high power plant requirements and redundant systems?”
“Yeah… we fought those for almost 3 weeks before they threatened to yank the contract from us.”
“That’s right. We didn’t understand what in the world they were thinking. The placement played hell with the center of gravity; the extra cabling and piping for the power plant seemed excessive; the extremely high fidelity radar and sensor systems; even the extra shuttle bays. It just didn’t make any sense. We finally decided that they were idiots, and if they wanted all these extra goodies, they could have them. It would still be the fastest, most advanced commercial ore freighter on the market.”
Alan nodded.
“Now, look at these addendums: Turret pits for those very same modules, expanded sensor arrays, incredible navigation equipment. Hell, some of this crap I’ve never even seen before… they had to have been developed very recently, and I mean within the past year.”
“These aren’t last minute changes at all… Those previous addendums were preparations for this one! This was going to be a warship from the start...”
“Yep, that’s right. Some of these items had to be developed before we could even implement them. So those contracts were farmed out to a few start-up industrial tech companies while we simply built the box they would fit in. You’ll notice that almost all of the real changes aren’t modifications to the basic structure at all. We’re simply rerouting some cabling, and interchanging some of the modular substructures.”
Alan’s gaze was fixed on the view screen. “So, how is this going to change our delivery date?”
“Actually,” Jim replied, “the delivery date shouldn’t be affected too drastically. I’ve been told that the new modules and equipment will be shipped here over the course of the next two weeks… We will implement what they send us instead of what we had originally scheduled. I’m thinking an extra week and half, tops.”
A long silence settled into the conversation. Alan could hear Minnie faintly whirring by the door again. “Jim, what are we doing to building a ship like this? Why does the board want a damned battleship?”
“Not a battleship; three battleships.”
Alan’s jaw dropped.
“And actually, according to these notes, the Pandora is going to be called, for all intensive purposes, a heavy cruiser, not a battleship per se. Oh, and the project name is changing. This new version of the design is called The Gladius. And no, I don’t have a clue what they want to use it for… But I’ll wager it isn’t for law enforcement.”
“Jesus, Jim…”
“Yep.”
“So who else knows?”
“Well, I’ve talked to Stevens already, and I’ll be getting Gunther on the horn as soon as we’re done here. Obviously the board here at Vulcan has known for a while now, and I honestly don’t know who in the Body Politik laid down the planning for this, but I think it’s a safe bet that the President and his cabinet would be at the top of the pyramid.”
Jim paused until he noted that Alan didn’t have a reply. He simply sat in the comfy chair staring blankly at the drawings on the view-screen.
“In any case, I need you to get started on these addendums right away. I’ll need them implemented by Monday. In the meantime, I’ve got to be on a shuttle to Solis Planum in about 3 hours.”
“Alright Jim, I’ll get out of your hair then.” Alan stood up, returning the PDA to the enormous wooden desk from whence it came. “When will you be back?”
“Sometime tomorrow evening, I imagine.”
“Alright. I’ll get to work on this in the morning.”
“Good man. Get some rest, you hear me? I’ll see you when I get back.
Alan started out the door.
“Alan. Try not to dwell on it too much. Just get it done.”
“Yeah…”
“Lido Deck.”
The synthetic, female voice responded promptly. Alan loved the unplaceable European accent. “Lido Deck, authorized personnel only.”
Alan placed his thumb on the scan pad in front of him.
“Authorization approved for Alan Foster.”
Almost imperceptibly, the maglift began its smooth ascent to the Lido Deck, where most of the managerial offices of the complex are found. Alan yawned, rubbing the tension from the bridge of his nose. He’d been working weekends for the past 8 months on an unrelenting schedule, grueling even by Vulcan Aerospace standards. Thankfully, the overtime credit was excessive… and he looked forward to the day when he could actually spend that credit on something other than coffee and take-out from the cafeteria. That wouldn’t be for another 5 weeks, however. For now, work must continue at a feverish pace if the Pandora was to meet its rather ambitious launch date.
A chime sounded.“Lido Deck.”
The maglift doors opened to the gleaming white halls of the station’s office interior. As Alan made his way down the corridor, he reflected on just how clean the environment was in this place… almost to the point of nauseating. To punctuate the thought, he could hear the faint whir of a vacuum elsewhere on the floor. The MNE294 (or ‘Minnie’, as those in the office affectionately called the robotic cleaning unit) was undoubtedly making her rounds, given the late hour.
Jim’s office door was already open. It always took a moment for Alan’s eyes to adjust to the interior of this particular room, which stood in stark contrast to the gleaming, sterile corridor outside. With walls paneled in stained oak, a thick, luxurious forest green carpet, and dimly lit by only a single old fashioned desk lamp, Jim often referred to this rather warm and comfortable room as his “cave”.
“Knock, knock. Hey Jim.”
“Come on in, Alan, just one sec.” Jim motioned for him to enter, his gaze still fixed intently on a monitor with a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose. Alan strolled in and took a seat in what he jovially called “The Comfy Chair.”
“Why do you even have glasses, Jim? I’ve never actually caught you using them.”
Jim smirked. “They’re quite fashionable, you know. Especially for old men like myself....”
“Quite right,” Alan teased.
“Damned things....” Jim pulled the old fashioned spectacles off and examined them with contempt.
“I bought these not even a year ago, and I swear to God not 3 months passed before I had to start taking them off so I could read.… Anyway, I need to talk to you about something.”
Alan shifted in his seat, stifling another yawn. “Ok, shoot.”
“Well, it seems… ” Minnie whirred obnoxiously by the open door. Agitated, Jim paused for a moment, rolling his eyes.
“Computer, close the damned door, please!” A disembodied double-beep acknowledged the command, and the door slid shut with a hydraulic whisper. Alan chuckled.
“As I was saying… it seems that the board is handing down another series of design addendums for the Pandora,” Jim said as he leaned over the overly large desk, handing Alan a clipboard sized PDA.
“What?!” Alan wheezed in disbelief. “Jim, we’re 5 weeks from delivery! The specs and design documents were approved two years ago, after 3 addendums already! What the hell are they thinking?”
Jim leaned back into his chair. His eyes were closed and his arms crossed as he pulled himself into deep thought.
“Seriously, Jim, you know I’m a team player and all that. But this is absurd. What kind of revisions are we talking about here?”
“Just look through them for a minute,” Jim replied.
Furious, Alan browsed restlessly through the first couple of introductory screens. “Oh my God, there are over 300 pages here.”
Jim didn’t reply.
Slowly, Alan’s expression drifted from consternation to confusion. He noticed at the header of the document was a deep purple security code indicator. Most of the companies on Mars had adopted a kind of universal color-coded security system for documentation that ranged from green to yellow, orange, and then red.
“Purple? What the hell is purple?”
“Along with these addendums, I also received notification that the SSPS had been upgraded by the Body Politik’s security commission as of about a year ago. It seems that this change is being shared only on a need to know basis. There are now color codes above red, purple being the next logical step, indicating a global level security clearance. And since you are already aware of how most of this stuff works, I probably don’t need to tell you that there are now consequences above and beyond simply losing your job or forfeiture of pay should you break the security protocol.”
“Holy shit….”
“Yeah, we’re talking imprisonment here.”
Unsettled, Alan began to flip more rapidly through the documents and drawings.
What in the world could be so pressing as to require a new, even more obnoxious security level? Especially for an ore freighter? I mean, I understand the need to maintain corporate secrets and the ability to compete, but on government level?
Then one set of specifications gave him pause. He brought it closer to his face, his lips moving as he read very intently. When Alan finished that page, he paused.
“Jim, these are weapon systems.”
Jim’s eyes reopened, and looked squarely into Alan’s.
“Yep.”
“Big weapon systems. We’re not talking defensive stuff, or security and law enforcement here, either. These are full-blown military grade weapon systems designed to kill other ships.”
“Yep.”
The profundity of this revelation hit Alan in the gut like a ton of bricks. Any consternation he felt over the inconvenience of minor design changes so late in the game were swept away in the raging flood of the bigger picture. The Pandora wasn’t going to be the largest, fastest ore freighter in system at all; it was going to be its first warship!
“Jim, I don’t understand… “
Jim, nodded solemnly. “Ok, let me show you a few things here… Computer, view screen on please.” Again, a double-beep of acknowledgement, and a panel on the far wall shifted like a chameleon from the predominant wall pattern to a two-meter wide computer desktop. Jim punched a few buttons on another PDA pad, and the addendum documents appeared before them.
“Ok, remember back when we were struggling with Addendum C2? Those modular container compartments that the board insisted we place in these specific locations? The Unnecessarily high power plant requirements and redundant systems?”
“Yeah… we fought those for almost 3 weeks before they threatened to yank the contract from us.”
“That’s right. We didn’t understand what in the world they were thinking. The placement played hell with the center of gravity; the extra cabling and piping for the power plant seemed excessive; the extremely high fidelity radar and sensor systems; even the extra shuttle bays. It just didn’t make any sense. We finally decided that they were idiots, and if they wanted all these extra goodies, they could have them. It would still be the fastest, most advanced commercial ore freighter on the market.”
Alan nodded.
“Now, look at these addendums: Turret pits for those very same modules, expanded sensor arrays, incredible navigation equipment. Hell, some of this crap I’ve never even seen before… they had to have been developed very recently, and I mean within the past year.”
“These aren’t last minute changes at all… Those previous addendums were preparations for this one! This was going to be a warship from the start...”
“Yep, that’s right. Some of these items had to be developed before we could even implement them. So those contracts were farmed out to a few start-up industrial tech companies while we simply built the box they would fit in. You’ll notice that almost all of the real changes aren’t modifications to the basic structure at all. We’re simply rerouting some cabling, and interchanging some of the modular substructures.”
Alan’s gaze was fixed on the view screen. “So, how is this going to change our delivery date?”
“Actually,” Jim replied, “the delivery date shouldn’t be affected too drastically. I’ve been told that the new modules and equipment will be shipped here over the course of the next two weeks… We will implement what they send us instead of what we had originally scheduled. I’m thinking an extra week and half, tops.”
A long silence settled into the conversation. Alan could hear Minnie faintly whirring by the door again. “Jim, what are we doing to building a ship like this? Why does the board want a damned battleship?”
“Not a battleship; three battleships.”
Alan’s jaw dropped.
“And actually, according to these notes, the Pandora is going to be called, for all intensive purposes, a heavy cruiser, not a battleship per se. Oh, and the project name is changing. This new version of the design is called The Gladius. And no, I don’t have a clue what they want to use it for… But I’ll wager it isn’t for law enforcement.”
“Jesus, Jim…”
“Yep.”
“So who else knows?”
“Well, I’ve talked to Stevens already, and I’ll be getting Gunther on the horn as soon as we’re done here. Obviously the board here at Vulcan has known for a while now, and I honestly don’t know who in the Body Politik laid down the planning for this, but I think it’s a safe bet that the President and his cabinet would be at the top of the pyramid.”
Jim paused until he noted that Alan didn’t have a reply. He simply sat in the comfy chair staring blankly at the drawings on the view-screen.
“In any case, I need you to get started on these addendums right away. I’ll need them implemented by Monday. In the meantime, I’ve got to be on a shuttle to Solis Planum in about 3 hours.”
“Alright Jim, I’ll get out of your hair then.” Alan stood up, returning the PDA to the enormous wooden desk from whence it came. “When will you be back?”
“Sometime tomorrow evening, I imagine.”
“Alright. I’ll get to work on this in the morning.”
“Good man. Get some rest, you hear me? I’ll see you when I get back.
Alan started out the door.
“Alan. Try not to dwell on it too much. Just get it done.”
“Yeah…”
