Troy Rising 3 - The Hot Gate (33 page)

“The matter conversion systems also aren’t perfect,” Tyler said. “That gigawatt power plant should only be using a few grams of He3 a day. The remainder, as far as any scientist, Glatun, Human, what have you, shuttles sidewise into, essentially, another universe.”

“Another universe?” Dr. Palencia said, incredulously.

“That’s the simple way of saying it, sir,” Mr. Fleming said. “The math gets somewhat complex. The loss, however, has yet to be overcome. Unfortunately. Or we could power most of the spiral arm from this one plant.”

“Now that they’ve started to get their heads around Galactic science that is one of two questions earth based physicists are looking at,” Tyler said. “Well, three. There should be another way to create and manage pseudo gravity. Someone, somewhere, created the first grav plate. Since you can’t create grav plates without pseudo gravity, someone broke either that rule or they had another form of pseudo gravity. The second question, like the first, is how do you create a high enough gravitational vortex to create neutronium.”

“And what is the value of neutronium?” Dr. Werden asked.

“According to the math,” Mr. Fleming replied, “you should be able to use less power to create neutronium than you’d get out from annihilating it.”

“That would seem to violate…” Dr. Palencia said then stopped. “The law of… Conservative something.”

“Law of Conservation of Energy,” Tyler said. “We’re finding that at the quantum level, that’s more of a guideline. And neutronium would also make a nifty armor. All of which is why I’m still dumping a lot of money into basic scientific research. Bottom-line is we do it this way cause this is what you’ve got to do to create enough He3 for a modern society. If we hadn’t found this gas giant, which actually has a high percentage of helium compared to normal, if we hadn’t gotten the gas mine in operation, we would have had to more or less surrender as soon as the Rangora blockaded us. Call me, as many have, a war profiteer if you want. We’d have been screwed without this mine. Off of which, yes, I make a very pretty penny. Which I dump to…”

“Scientific research,” Dr. Werden said. “Arms research. Space research and of course SAPL.”

“Sometimes my advisors point out to me, when I get a little wroth, that it’s not up to me to save the solar system,” Tyler said, stroking one of the separators. “That people like, well, you Dr. Werden, the President, Admiral Graham, would take some insult from my thinking it’s all on my shoulders. My standard answer is ‘Troy, Franklin, Granadica.’ Not to mention the Apollo training facility in Melbourne which remains the only private space training facility so we have workers to run all three. Who else, gentlemen? Who else?”

“Who else can compete?” Dr. Palencia asked.

“There is that,” Tyler said. “I, in fact, rather dislike monopolies. They violate some of my very basic philosophies. But in this case… SAPL is not self supporting. It’s supported by Apollo. Which is supported by the fabbers, metal mining and the mine. The Alliance could, I suppose, break up the company. They’d have to take over SAPL mind you, because it’s not self-supporting. Then, I suppose, rent time to Apollo when it needed it. Apollo Mining, in turn, only makes about two percent profit. Yet it supports the training facility. We’re the sole supplier for Helium Three in the entire system, yet we, I, deliberately keep the Franklin Division at a three percent profit rate. When the war is over, I’d like to sit down and figure out how to break the company up, like, oh, AT&T or Standard Oil. In the meantime, aware that this may sound self-serving, I’d strongly suggest if it’s not clearly broke, don’t try to fix it.”

“With the number of lobbyists and the way that you’ve structured your corporation,” Dr. Werden said, “that would be difficult for any government to do. And the Alliance has no such power. Yet.”

“I like lobbyists less than I like attorneys,” Tyler said, grinning mirthlessly. “And I like attorneys less than I like monopolies. How, exactly, I came to employ armies of both in the service of the third I often wonder in the deeps of the night.”

Dana looked up at the ping from her door and checked the signature. Not only was she not expecting visitors, she really would prefer to avoid them. She was appreciating the down time and a chance to catch up on watching TV. On the other hand…

“Mister Vernon?”

“Hi,” Tyler said. “Mind if I come in?”

“No,” Dana said, shutting off the viewscreen and unlocking the door.

“Hey, Granadica?” Tyler said as soon as he was inside. “Uhm, privacy mode.”

“So you can talk about me?” Granadica asked.

“Granadica…” Tyler said.

“Granny?” Dana said, in a somewhat embarrassed tone. “We sort of need… A little alone time.”

“You’re kidding,” Granadica said.

“Kidding or not,” Tyler said. “Privacy lock authorized, Granadica. No peeking.”

“Okay,” the AI said in a humorous tone. “You kids have fun, now. Locking out.”

“Give it any more thought?” Tyler said, quickly.

“She’s still going to think we’re talking about her,” Dana said.

“Not if I mis-tie my tie before I leave,” Tyler said, mussing his hair. “How’s that look?”

“Like both our reputations are shot,” Dana said, frowning.

“Great big depressed factory,” Tyler said. “Billions of credits and thousands of lives on the line. Future of the solar system at stake. You want to discuss reputation? Suds must be getting to you. Give it any more thought?”

“Yes,” Dana said. “When we were on the way back and did the flyby of the work on Lud.”

“Brand new shell,” Tyler said. “I’ve come to the conclusion I’m just going to have to cough up the dough. The Board is going to be furious.”

“It wasn’t the shell,” Dana said. “It was something that Granadica said. ‘Here I am in the Wolf system…’ ”

“Where else would she b…” Tyler said. “Oh, no. You’ve got to be joking.”

“She wants excitement, Mister Vernon,” Dana said.

“I’m not going to stick sixty billion credits, at pre-war prices, in the Terra system!” Tyler said.

“I said ‘when I was looking at Lud,’ sir,” Dana said. “Who is scheduled to be installed in the Thermopylae. And then it all came together.”

“Install her in Therm instead?” Tyler said. “Hmm… I could…probably swing that.”

“Several reasons,” Dana said, getting excited. “Some of it I’m just thinking through, sir. First, she gets to do different stuff all the time. The ship fabbers do major repairs, produce various parts, have to interact with thousands of people every day.”

“So she stays busy with new stuff,” Tyler said, nodding.

“Two… I hate being with the One-Four-Three,” Dana said. “It has been, as I understand you’ve found out, a continuous and constant pain in the butt.”

“That is probably going away,” Tyler said.

“We’ll see,” Dana said. “But the point is, it’s still my unit. You don’t really understand what that means. I know I’ve been fighting an uphill battle, but when my unit looks bad, I look bad. Doesn’t matter how good I am. I’m always going to have been part of a unit that totally screwed a MASSEX.”

“I guess that would sort of suck,” Tyler said. “I can kind of understand because of all the issues with Granadica.”

“Granny is a bitch about stuff being right,” Dana said. “I mean, yes, she’s producing intentional mistakes. We’ve figured that out. But she wants things to be right at another level. A lot.”

“Okay,” Tyler said.

“I can’t be everywhere,” Dana said. “Megdanoff can’t be everywhere. Hell, he gave up trying. The other Nortes can’t be everywhere nor the very few Suds who agree things need to be right. Guess who can?”

“Oh,” Tyler said, breathing out hard. “Oh, Dana Parker you are a genius!”

He grabbed her head in both hand and kissed her on the forehead. Hard.

“What did I say?” Dana asked.

“Oh, you don’t know how many problems you just solved!” Tyler said looking into the distance. The fact that the One-Four-Three was about to be demobilized was still closely held.

Dana’s eyes flew open as he kissed her on the mouth.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Tyler said, straightening up and looking in her mirror. He started messing with his tie and clothes then mis-buttoned his jacket. “We never ever had this conversation. But if I can figure out a way to let the Admiral know we did, you are in for a promotion or a very big medal. From the Alliance President if she knows what she’s doing. You are a fricking genius.”

He straightened his jacket as best he could and walked out the door.

“You kids done canoodling?” Granadica said, almost instantly.

“Uh…” Dana said, rubbing her mouth. “Yeah.”

“That was quick.”

“Uh… Yeah… Canoodling?”

“How else would a grandmother say it?”

* * *

“You want to what?” Dr. Barreiro said.

“Mister Vernon,” Admiral Duvall said, carefully. “While BuShips is willing to continue certifying shuttles from Granadica, despite the known issues, I’m not sure we’re willing to place it in a location where, frankly, such issues could be even more problematic.”

“I think we can get those issues worked out,” Tyler said.

Granadica had, again, been locked out of the negotiations. She was starting to get a bit tetchy about that.

“So you want to give us a broken fabber,” Dr. Werden said. “The insults just keep piling up.”

“As part of this move, the first issue that Granadica will address will be maintenance issues with the One-Four-Three,” Tyler said. “Furthermore, she will have to be given some sort of military…override. Not only will shuttles be sent through her to be refurbished, as they essentially must be at this point, she will be the official supervisor of maintenance on the Thermopylae.”

“Oh…” Admiral Duvall said, placing a hand over her mouth to cover a smile.

“So any issues in production she’s also going to have to fix,” Tyler said. “As such she will have access to all areas in which maintenance is performed at all times and some sort of either direct order or reporting system to manage…personnel issues. To do that job, in addition to her other duties, she will need an upgrade to about, oh, Class Three AI. Furthermore, Apollo will, on its own dime, do a complete rebuild prior to installation. Starting with a new shell and pulling everything out and reinstalling it. Also such upgrades as may be appropriate. Perhaps even a specialized design purely for battle globe support. More raw material transitional manufacturing capability, for example. So not only will the Thermopylae be getting, essentially, a brand new fabber, it will be getting one custom designed for the work. And an overall maintenance supervisor. One who can be…how was it phrased? ‘Up people’s butt so far she’s talking to them out of their own mouth.’ ”

Dr. Barreiro suffused for a moment then sighed.

“What about the status of the One-Four-Three?” he said.

“BuShips is notionally in favor of this program,” Admiral Duvall said. “Final decision will be based upon positive results, if any. How long? Lud is nearly complete.”

“And Sver was to be next,” Tyler said. “The shell is already cooled. Lud will be complete enough to start the work in a month. Notionally, two months after that. It won’t take long. All the parts are there, already. We just have to yank out her guts and install them in a new shell. Redesign will be easier than you’d think. I’ll turn it over to Thomas and the Night Wolves. Four AIs working on it and the Night Wolves will probably crank out a redesign in a week.”

“So a month behind schedule,” Admiral Duvall said. “In the middle of a war.”

“We currently have a notional cease fire, Admiral,” Dr. Werden said. “I agree it is tenuous but this gives a bit of breathing room.”

“Which both sides are using for rearmament,” Admiral Duvall said. “Which this cuts into.”

“Or you can spend the time transitioning the One-Four-Three to all new personnel and equipment,” Tyler said, shrugging. “And lose out on a source of support politically, fiscally, materially and personnel…ly.”

“Hmm…” the Admiral said.

“This is contingent on a few more things,” Tyler said, turning to the South Americans.

“Which are?” Dr. Werden asked.

“For me to give my backing for Malta to be Battle Globe Sud, you need to do two things,” Tyler said.

“Figure out how to do maintenance?” Dr. Barreiro asked.

“That is the first,” Tyler said. “In part. I can guarantee you that no matter how many computers and bureaucrats you have creating complaints against Granadica for her high-handed ways, not only can she respond faster than you can crank them out, it will only feed her ego.”

“Does she have an ego?” Dr. Werden asked.

“Bigger than your President’s, Foreign Minister,” Tyler said. “And as you’ve noted, a talent for invective. Let her do the job. There will be people who will tell her when she’s being truly counter-productive. But that’s not for you to judge. Pass the word that it is hands off. If your units, even with Granadica’s support, can prove to the DOD, not me, that they have the capability to work and fight in space, you will have passed one of the Go/NoGo points for me to put my support behind an All Sud battle globe. That will include their requirements on tactics, astronautics…whatever. So Granadica cannot do it all for you.”

“And the other?” Dr. Werden asked.

“Right up your alley,” Tyler said, smiling. “You are not the Union Del Sud. I’ll skip the question of Bolivia, Venezuela and Nicaragua for now. Get the Brazilians and Peruvians onboard.”

“That will be…difficult,” Dr. Barreiro said.

“And you think building the Troy was,” Tyler replied. “But, as I said, right up your alley. And however you phrase it, you’d better point out that they fall under the same guidelines. Their forces have to meet Alliance standards.”

“Brazil is already a member of the Alliance,” Dr. Werden pointed out.

“But they’re working with the Europeans,” Tyler said. “You need to get them working with you. Because we don’t need you guys coming to blows over who has the bigger space forces. You want a big gun for prestige sake. I’m saying you’re going to have to man up to get it. Take that as an insult or a challenge. I don’t really care. Those are the requirements.”