Live Free or Die, Second Edition, page 38
“I see. Dr. Eager? Comments?”
“I don’t see any mining purpose to the process. The idea for a habitat has been around for some time. But, as I mentioned, we think they got the mix of solids to volatiles wrong. It may be a very expensive, unsuccessful project.”
“There is now a rumor that the project is intended to be a base for training the new Space Navy. Comment Dr. Eager?”
“That’s a possibility. It’s kind of far out, though. I mean, the project is far from Earth. Quite far much of the time, due to its orbit.”
“Mr. Carter?”
“If they’re planning on selling it to the DoD, I wish they’d just say so. I suppose we’d get something for it that way. But not the cost of materials. The cost of palladium alone in the asteroid exceeds the entire DoD budget!”
“Thank you for your thoughts, gentlemen.”
“Thank you.”
“Always a pleasure.”
“And there you have it. Another mysterious Vernon project. The one thing we at Fox News have figured out is that when Tyler Vernon seems to be doing something crazy, it’s usually crazy like…a Fox! And in other news…”
* * *
“This item hasn’t previously been submitted for budgetary approval, General,” the congresswoman said, looking at the line item. “And it’s a rather large oversight.”
“We hadn’t been apprised of its availability,” General DeGraff said. “However, I have a short presentation on the structure, if I may be allowed three minutes.”
“Allowed,” Senator Lamarche, the chairman of the Select Military Affairs Committee said. The meeting was in a secure room, a very small room for the number of people filling it. “I am agog to see what you need an asteroid for.”
“Honorable Congresspersons…” General DeGraff said. “Behold…Troy…”
* * *
“Oh…my God,” Senator Lamarche said. “First question is reserved to the chair. Have you determined what the conditions of delivery are? I mean, for…what is it? Sixty billion dollars, do we get just the shell? News reports say that the material value of the shell is on the order of sixty-two trillion dollars, so it certainly seems like a deal…But what, exactly, are we getting?”
“The shell,” General DeGraff said. “A door. Not hinged or latched, just the interior open. The outer portion of the door is going to have to be about three kilometers across. Apollo is still considering exactly how to make a hinge and latch, and opening and closing it will be…interesting. Drilled lanes to carry the SAPL beams with mirrors and collimators for beam management. And, possibly, interior systems to permit rotation once we get enough grav plates and power installed. It won’t be mobile, mind you. But it will be able to rotate. Slowly. Phase one is getting it expanded, into place, and the door so we can do additional internal work. Phase two will be installation of crew quarters and initial fitting out. We’ve barely scratched out the budget for phase two. But what we’re currently concentrating on is completion of phase one and budgetary considerations thereof.”
“Congresswoman Sanchez.”
“General, I think that…Troy is certainly amazing, but what, exactly, is the purpose? I can foresee this absorbing much of the total budget for the Space Navy. Is it worth it?”
“Honorable Congresswoman, the SAPL, as it currently is arrayed, is what is called a soft target. Any enemy that gets into the system can destroy the SAPL piecemeal and especially the VDA clusters that are necessary to protect against aggressor vessels. Troy will be the final gatherer of the energies of the SAPL as well as a missile base and a secure holding base for the Fleet. It will absorb a significant portion of our budget, but it is, finally, a place from which we can do battle that is not an essentially soft target. We don’t just have to take punishment and hope we survive.”
“Congresswoman Crosslin?”
“That’s all very nice, General. But what about Earth? What about our citizens? So far, losses to citizens have been much higher than losses among military personnel. If Troy doesn’t protect citizens, and I don’t see how it can, what purpose does it have?”
“With Troy, what we can absolutely ensure is the protection of the system. Although losses have been horrible in these ongoing hostilities with the Horvath, since the advancement of the SAPL and gaining some knowledge of gravitics, we have been able to secure the system and our orbitals. The damage that we would take without such security is an order of magnitude greater. Securing the orbitals is the first duty of the Space Navy. Troy will serve as a base to absolutely shred any hostile coming through the gate. It will also be the primary base for countermissile fire. Getting them when they are first boosting is important. They’re much harder to find afterwards. Will it absolutely protect Earth from attack? No. But Troy, the SAPL and the developments we’re making in detection technology and the reconfiguring of SAPL, with the enthusiastic support of Apollo Mining, I might add, will combine to reduce the likelihood of further attack. If I may revise and extend, Mr. Chairman?”
“Permission granted.”
“We are currently in a state of hostilities with the Horvath,” the general said. “We don’t have a declaration of war on either side. They just attack when they feel they are strong enough. Troy will act as a deterrent to such attacks. But the Horvath are not the only potential threat. The Rangora and the Horvath have just signed a mutual defense treaty. With the Rangora pressing into previously Glatun-held systems, with the Horvath demands for the E Eridani and Cerecul systems in the Quadralineal Talks…we are facing the possibility of war not just with the Horvath but with the Rangora, who are a strategic threat to the Glatun, in support. Absent a sudden outbreak of sense in the galaxy…we’re going to need Troy. We’re not only going to need Troy, but more battlestations like her.”
“General,” the Chair said. “I have seen the Strategic Polity Intelligence Estimates. And I can see the problems we’re looking at down the road. But, frankly, I’m wondering how we can afford this. How many battlestations are you talking about?”
“Apollo has designated three asteroids so far,” the General said. “They are not insisting on payment during construction, just asking for payment on delivery. And since delivery is quite a ways out, we can start working on the budgets. But the expensive part, I warn you, is not the shell but the fitting out. That is going to get mind-boggling. Quarters for thousands of personnel. Control systems. Enormous power systems. Grav systems capable of adjusting the rotation of a two point two trillion ton battlestation. Orders of magnitude greater than one of the Constitutions.
“However, the question is simple, Honorable Congresspersons. Do we wish to be, again, under the heel of the Horvath, or do we wish for humans to be able to choose their own destiny? We, as yet, cannot make ships that can go toe to toe with even the Horvath, much less the Rangora. But with Troy, we can hold our system. And, in time, reach the level of power and capability that will permit us to ensure our security for all time. I had, frankly, wondered how I was going to fulfill my Constitutional mandate when I took this job. Our only real defense was a mining laser that was vulnerable to a capable and cunning enemy. Even the Constitution classes are, frankly, barges compared to our known enemies or potential enemies. Important because with each problem we solve, we get better and better. But the Constitutions are not something we could use to hold the system. With Troy, Thermopylae and Station Three, I can protect my nation and, frankly, my world and my solar system. We, gentlemen and ladies, can do our jobs. Protecting American citizens from the wrath of our enemies. No pitch, no hype, no overstatement. We can do the job. What price are you willing to put on that?”
SIX
Tyler’s implant sent an urgent ding and he picked up. It was set for only three things. A Horvath attack, something happening to the girls or the expansion of the Troy.
“Go,” Tyler said.
“We’re getting expansion,” Nathan said.
“Finally!”
The Troy was overdue to start expanding. When you’re melting two point two trillion tons of nickel iron, models only go so far. But it was at least a month overdue. And it wasn’t like you could induce. They were already using eighty percent of the SAPL and some other projects had had to be put on the back burner.
He spun around in his chair and put the view up on the wall-screen. He could view it through the implants, but some things you just needed the emotional satisfaction of watching on a nine-square-meter plasma.
“How long?” he asked. “And…is it expanding?”
“Slowly at the moment,” Nathan said. “The models say it should expand slowly at first, then up to about ninety percent rather rapidly. Then, perhaps, a slight additional expansion, but when it cools it’s going to contract so…when it slows down that’s probably what we’ll end up with.”
“Okay,” Tyler said. “How long for it to really balloon because…”
“I hate waiting,” Nathan finished. “Not long…”
“Whoa,” Tyler said as the nickel iron asteroid started to grow in size very much like a balloon that was being inflated. A big, spherical, molten, metal balloon. “Cool. Is it really going to take a year to cool?”
“Two point two—”
“Trillion tons,” Tyler said. “Got it. Can’t we speed that up? What about running a comet into it? They’re cold.”
“You’re insane,” Nathan said, shaking his head. “Just fricking nuts. And, no, the problem is we can’t get good heat transfer. The vaporization energy involved in sublimating a comet, and just about any comet that contacted this would completely sublimate, is high. But…well, first, if we just impacted it, even at low velocity, it would warp the shell.”
“Pass,” Tyler said.
“And most of the energy wouldn’t transfer,” Nathan said. “It’s something we looked at, but it’s not really worth doing. What we are looking at doing is making a shield for it.”
“I don’t think it needs more defenses,” Tyler said dubiously. “But if you think so…”
“Not that kind of shield,” Nathan said. “A large, and I do mean large, sunshield. To get it fully into deep cold. But even then, heat doesn’t dissipate well in vacuum and, well, it’s two point two—”
“Trillion tons,” Tyler said. “What’s the next iteration up from a trillion, by the way?”
“We’ve decided it’s a hell-of-a-lot,” Nathan answered, grinning. “Wha-oh.”
“What?” Tyler asked, still watching the expanding sphere. He realized that the small dot in the view was the Monkey Business and shook his head. The support ship was closer than the Troy, how close he wasn’t sure, but it still looked like a speck.
“The expansion’s already slowing,” Nathan said, examining his figures. “The sphere also cooled more than expected. May be less than a year before we can get to work. But there’s a problem.”
“Big problem, little problem?” Tyler asked, pulling up his own system to examine the sphere. “Little problem.”
“Right,” Nathan said. “Little problem. As in it’s got a ‘small’ problem. As in…”
* * *
“I thought you said it was going to be ten kilometers across with a kilometer-thick shell,” General DeGraff said. “Not nine kilometers across with a kilometer and a half shell.”
“Hey, more armor,” Tyler said, shrugging. “It’s still one hell of a big system. And it’s not like the interior’s going to be crowded. Four miles across is pretty darned big, General.”
“Big enough,” General DeGraff said. “I was sort of pulling your leg. Hopefully, it won’t get the name ‘Runt.’”
“Doubtful,” the rather short tycoon said, making a face. “It’s nine kilometers wide. Nine point two four. Twenty-nine kilometers in circumference. Now that we’ve done one of these we’re tightening up the models. It looks as if doing a full blossom to the size that was predicted in the original essay is darned tough. The surface tension of even highly heated iron is just too high. You’d have to scoop out a big container in the middle to get enough volatiles.”
“A thought occurs to me,” General DeGraff said, rubbing his chin.
“That it’s small enough to fit through the gate?” Tyler said. “We’re going to have to wait for it to cool so we can hook up the nukes to move it, General. We’re actually going to hook the nukes to another asteroid and crash it into the Troy. Why irradiate what you don’t have to?”
“Opening and closing the door?”
“We’re working on figuring out how to cut the door,” Tyler said, shrugging. “We need to get the Troy nice and stable first. No rotation. That’s going to be interesting. Then we have to cut the door. It’s a kilometer and a half of nickel iron. Which is just great at dissipating heat. I’m on the three twenty to Wolf, General. Some issues have come up. I’ll have to talk about that later.”
“Have fun in 359,” the general said, looking quizzical. “Any chance you’re going to bring Granadica back? We could use that production capability in this system.”
“Not on your life,” Tyler said. “To get to Wolf, an enemy has to come through the Sol System. Not to dispute the whole ‘every life is sacred,’ but if we’re going to have a chance, we need Granadica working. I was sweating the whole time she was in the Sol System. She’s not coming back until I either have a replacement or I’m sure she’ll be somewhere very safe.”
“I’m not sure anywhere in this system is safe, Mr. Vernon,” General DeGraff said. “Especially if the Horvath get E Eridani. Unfortunately.”
“Have you looked at the specifications on Troy?”
* * *
“Begin,” Tyler said, waving expansively.
Granadica came complete with design facilities, management offices and meeting rooms. Like much of the fabber, they could all use some TLC. Tyler had let contracts for upgrades and improvements—guys with paintbrushes instead of the fabber having to devote resources—so the current meeting room had a newly built look.
The air still smelled rusty. Coupled with paint. It did not blend well.
The group was mixed human and Glatun. The gas mine project was a huge endeavor, and even with Granadica’s help, it was going to involve a lot of people and a lot of skull-sweat.
Most of the Glatun were from various Gorku departments, but there were members representing six different subcontractors or invested corporations. The humans were just as diverse, coming from a dozen different corporations that were involved with everything from subsystem design to logistical support.
But nobody could really get moving until a few disputes got hammered out.
“Mr. Vernon, gentlebeings,” the Glatun said. It was a VP sent out by Gorku Corp. to act as their representative. “A dispute has broken out even before we can begin initial construction over the primary design of the Wolf Gas Mine. Gorku Corporation has supplied designs for its most advanced technology in gas separation in refining.”
It threw up a video of a space elevator that was, essentially, two flat plates that looked something like washers connected by wires. Dialing down it walked the viewer through the facility as he continued to talk.
“The upper platform rests in geosynchronous orbit,” the Glatun said. “The system has four large storage tanks capable of moving two million gallons of helium-three per hour. That is enough to fuel an entire Glatun task force.
“The separation center, resting in the near Earth gravity region, pumps up fuel from the depths of the gas giant through four large carbon nanotube woven pipes and refines it. Return pipes for unused gases create a siphon effect, reducing the need for pumping power.
“Four carbon nanotube support wires hold the two sections together. At each end, each wire splits into sixteen separate secondary connection wires. The system can remain stable with as few as four of each.
“There is an elevator as well,” he concluded, “for movement of supplies and personnel in and out of orbit. This was the initial design, a design well tested in the Mi’Wexiqey system.”
“Well tested, my rear quadrant,” Granadica said.
“You’ll get your chance,” Tyler said. “Continue.”
“The design does include some proprietary components, which some have suggested is intended to increase profitability to certain parties,” the Glatun said distastefully. “But it is the very best design available. Absolutely state-of-the-art. Gorku Corporation is convinced that this is a superior design to more…to earlier systems and as a major investor is…challenged by the idea of using a less capable design.”
“What’s proprietary?” Tyler asked.
“Some of the so-called separation systems,” Granadica said.
“They are superior systems,” the Gorku VP said.
“They’re over-priced junk,” Granadica said. “All you have to do is look at the actual output of the Mi’Wexiqey Mine!”
“That was when we were testing this system,” one of the other Glatun said, then shut up at a look from the VP.
“There were some teething issues with Mi’Wexiqey,” the VP said. “But we have worked those out. This system is a refinement of those.”
“Okay,” Tyler said. “Before we get into a shouting match with the AI that controls our air…Granadica? And less on the negatives and more on the positives, please?”
“The problem is the negatives,” Granadica said. “I built my first gas mine over five hundred years ago in the Bulhubic system. Still works like a charm. Some of the new stuff they’re doing just makes sense. We always had problems with the boron fiber support wires. Carbon nanotube’s a better material and the spinners they’re providing are great. All for it. And the Apollo suggestions on producing the upper and lower rings are good. It’s these new pumps that I think are nuts.”
“Reason?” Tyler asked.
“There are the usual heavy grav pumps at the base of the lift pipes,” Granadica said. “All good. But the system uses a series of pre-separators during lift. Theoretically, it should cut down on the separation requirements on the top side. That saves power overall, which saves money. They’re proprietary and add about ten percent to the cost, but theoretically they’ll save you money in the long run. Theoretically. Truth is, Gorku’s never gotten them to work. Mi’Wexiqey is still only separating at twenty percent of its rated capacity. Because it’s all got to be done by the upper separators. Which, because they’re built to do a final separation, not primary, can’t handle the full load. They’ve been tweaking and tweaking and tweaking but they can’t get it to work. And now they want to foist off the same stupid system on you ignorant humans.”
“I don’t see any mining purpose to the process. The idea for a habitat has been around for some time. But, as I mentioned, we think they got the mix of solids to volatiles wrong. It may be a very expensive, unsuccessful project.”
“There is now a rumor that the project is intended to be a base for training the new Space Navy. Comment Dr. Eager?”
“That’s a possibility. It’s kind of far out, though. I mean, the project is far from Earth. Quite far much of the time, due to its orbit.”
“Mr. Carter?”
“If they’re planning on selling it to the DoD, I wish they’d just say so. I suppose we’d get something for it that way. But not the cost of materials. The cost of palladium alone in the asteroid exceeds the entire DoD budget!”
“Thank you for your thoughts, gentlemen.”
“Thank you.”
“Always a pleasure.”
“And there you have it. Another mysterious Vernon project. The one thing we at Fox News have figured out is that when Tyler Vernon seems to be doing something crazy, it’s usually crazy like…a Fox! And in other news…”
* * *
“This item hasn’t previously been submitted for budgetary approval, General,” the congresswoman said, looking at the line item. “And it’s a rather large oversight.”
“We hadn’t been apprised of its availability,” General DeGraff said. “However, I have a short presentation on the structure, if I may be allowed three minutes.”
“Allowed,” Senator Lamarche, the chairman of the Select Military Affairs Committee said. The meeting was in a secure room, a very small room for the number of people filling it. “I am agog to see what you need an asteroid for.”
“Honorable Congresspersons…” General DeGraff said. “Behold…Troy…”
* * *
“Oh…my God,” Senator Lamarche said. “First question is reserved to the chair. Have you determined what the conditions of delivery are? I mean, for…what is it? Sixty billion dollars, do we get just the shell? News reports say that the material value of the shell is on the order of sixty-two trillion dollars, so it certainly seems like a deal…But what, exactly, are we getting?”
“The shell,” General DeGraff said. “A door. Not hinged or latched, just the interior open. The outer portion of the door is going to have to be about three kilometers across. Apollo is still considering exactly how to make a hinge and latch, and opening and closing it will be…interesting. Drilled lanes to carry the SAPL beams with mirrors and collimators for beam management. And, possibly, interior systems to permit rotation once we get enough grav plates and power installed. It won’t be mobile, mind you. But it will be able to rotate. Slowly. Phase one is getting it expanded, into place, and the door so we can do additional internal work. Phase two will be installation of crew quarters and initial fitting out. We’ve barely scratched out the budget for phase two. But what we’re currently concentrating on is completion of phase one and budgetary considerations thereof.”
“Congresswoman Sanchez.”
“General, I think that…Troy is certainly amazing, but what, exactly, is the purpose? I can foresee this absorbing much of the total budget for the Space Navy. Is it worth it?”
“Honorable Congresswoman, the SAPL, as it currently is arrayed, is what is called a soft target. Any enemy that gets into the system can destroy the SAPL piecemeal and especially the VDA clusters that are necessary to protect against aggressor vessels. Troy will be the final gatherer of the energies of the SAPL as well as a missile base and a secure holding base for the Fleet. It will absorb a significant portion of our budget, but it is, finally, a place from which we can do battle that is not an essentially soft target. We don’t just have to take punishment and hope we survive.”
“Congresswoman Crosslin?”
“That’s all very nice, General. But what about Earth? What about our citizens? So far, losses to citizens have been much higher than losses among military personnel. If Troy doesn’t protect citizens, and I don’t see how it can, what purpose does it have?”
“With Troy, what we can absolutely ensure is the protection of the system. Although losses have been horrible in these ongoing hostilities with the Horvath, since the advancement of the SAPL and gaining some knowledge of gravitics, we have been able to secure the system and our orbitals. The damage that we would take without such security is an order of magnitude greater. Securing the orbitals is the first duty of the Space Navy. Troy will serve as a base to absolutely shred any hostile coming through the gate. It will also be the primary base for countermissile fire. Getting them when they are first boosting is important. They’re much harder to find afterwards. Will it absolutely protect Earth from attack? No. But Troy, the SAPL and the developments we’re making in detection technology and the reconfiguring of SAPL, with the enthusiastic support of Apollo Mining, I might add, will combine to reduce the likelihood of further attack. If I may revise and extend, Mr. Chairman?”
“Permission granted.”
“We are currently in a state of hostilities with the Horvath,” the general said. “We don’t have a declaration of war on either side. They just attack when they feel they are strong enough. Troy will act as a deterrent to such attacks. But the Horvath are not the only potential threat. The Rangora and the Horvath have just signed a mutual defense treaty. With the Rangora pressing into previously Glatun-held systems, with the Horvath demands for the E Eridani and Cerecul systems in the Quadralineal Talks…we are facing the possibility of war not just with the Horvath but with the Rangora, who are a strategic threat to the Glatun, in support. Absent a sudden outbreak of sense in the galaxy…we’re going to need Troy. We’re not only going to need Troy, but more battlestations like her.”
“General,” the Chair said. “I have seen the Strategic Polity Intelligence Estimates. And I can see the problems we’re looking at down the road. But, frankly, I’m wondering how we can afford this. How many battlestations are you talking about?”
“Apollo has designated three asteroids so far,” the General said. “They are not insisting on payment during construction, just asking for payment on delivery. And since delivery is quite a ways out, we can start working on the budgets. But the expensive part, I warn you, is not the shell but the fitting out. That is going to get mind-boggling. Quarters for thousands of personnel. Control systems. Enormous power systems. Grav systems capable of adjusting the rotation of a two point two trillion ton battlestation. Orders of magnitude greater than one of the Constitutions.
“However, the question is simple, Honorable Congresspersons. Do we wish to be, again, under the heel of the Horvath, or do we wish for humans to be able to choose their own destiny? We, as yet, cannot make ships that can go toe to toe with even the Horvath, much less the Rangora. But with Troy, we can hold our system. And, in time, reach the level of power and capability that will permit us to ensure our security for all time. I had, frankly, wondered how I was going to fulfill my Constitutional mandate when I took this job. Our only real defense was a mining laser that was vulnerable to a capable and cunning enemy. Even the Constitution classes are, frankly, barges compared to our known enemies or potential enemies. Important because with each problem we solve, we get better and better. But the Constitutions are not something we could use to hold the system. With Troy, Thermopylae and Station Three, I can protect my nation and, frankly, my world and my solar system. We, gentlemen and ladies, can do our jobs. Protecting American citizens from the wrath of our enemies. No pitch, no hype, no overstatement. We can do the job. What price are you willing to put on that?”
SIX
Tyler’s implant sent an urgent ding and he picked up. It was set for only three things. A Horvath attack, something happening to the girls or the expansion of the Troy.
“Go,” Tyler said.
“We’re getting expansion,” Nathan said.
“Finally!”
The Troy was overdue to start expanding. When you’re melting two point two trillion tons of nickel iron, models only go so far. But it was at least a month overdue. And it wasn’t like you could induce. They were already using eighty percent of the SAPL and some other projects had had to be put on the back burner.
He spun around in his chair and put the view up on the wall-screen. He could view it through the implants, but some things you just needed the emotional satisfaction of watching on a nine-square-meter plasma.
“How long?” he asked. “And…is it expanding?”
“Slowly at the moment,” Nathan said. “The models say it should expand slowly at first, then up to about ninety percent rather rapidly. Then, perhaps, a slight additional expansion, but when it cools it’s going to contract so…when it slows down that’s probably what we’ll end up with.”
“Okay,” Tyler said. “How long for it to really balloon because…”
“I hate waiting,” Nathan finished. “Not long…”
“Whoa,” Tyler said as the nickel iron asteroid started to grow in size very much like a balloon that was being inflated. A big, spherical, molten, metal balloon. “Cool. Is it really going to take a year to cool?”
“Two point two—”
“Trillion tons,” Tyler said. “Got it. Can’t we speed that up? What about running a comet into it? They’re cold.”
“You’re insane,” Nathan said, shaking his head. “Just fricking nuts. And, no, the problem is we can’t get good heat transfer. The vaporization energy involved in sublimating a comet, and just about any comet that contacted this would completely sublimate, is high. But…well, first, if we just impacted it, even at low velocity, it would warp the shell.”
“Pass,” Tyler said.
“And most of the energy wouldn’t transfer,” Nathan said. “It’s something we looked at, but it’s not really worth doing. What we are looking at doing is making a shield for it.”
“I don’t think it needs more defenses,” Tyler said dubiously. “But if you think so…”
“Not that kind of shield,” Nathan said. “A large, and I do mean large, sunshield. To get it fully into deep cold. But even then, heat doesn’t dissipate well in vacuum and, well, it’s two point two—”
“Trillion tons,” Tyler said. “What’s the next iteration up from a trillion, by the way?”
“We’ve decided it’s a hell-of-a-lot,” Nathan answered, grinning. “Wha-oh.”
“What?” Tyler asked, still watching the expanding sphere. He realized that the small dot in the view was the Monkey Business and shook his head. The support ship was closer than the Troy, how close he wasn’t sure, but it still looked like a speck.
“The expansion’s already slowing,” Nathan said, examining his figures. “The sphere also cooled more than expected. May be less than a year before we can get to work. But there’s a problem.”
“Big problem, little problem?” Tyler asked, pulling up his own system to examine the sphere. “Little problem.”
“Right,” Nathan said. “Little problem. As in it’s got a ‘small’ problem. As in…”
* * *
“I thought you said it was going to be ten kilometers across with a kilometer-thick shell,” General DeGraff said. “Not nine kilometers across with a kilometer and a half shell.”
“Hey, more armor,” Tyler said, shrugging. “It’s still one hell of a big system. And it’s not like the interior’s going to be crowded. Four miles across is pretty darned big, General.”
“Big enough,” General DeGraff said. “I was sort of pulling your leg. Hopefully, it won’t get the name ‘Runt.’”
“Doubtful,” the rather short tycoon said, making a face. “It’s nine kilometers wide. Nine point two four. Twenty-nine kilometers in circumference. Now that we’ve done one of these we’re tightening up the models. It looks as if doing a full blossom to the size that was predicted in the original essay is darned tough. The surface tension of even highly heated iron is just too high. You’d have to scoop out a big container in the middle to get enough volatiles.”
“A thought occurs to me,” General DeGraff said, rubbing his chin.
“That it’s small enough to fit through the gate?” Tyler said. “We’re going to have to wait for it to cool so we can hook up the nukes to move it, General. We’re actually going to hook the nukes to another asteroid and crash it into the Troy. Why irradiate what you don’t have to?”
“Opening and closing the door?”
“We’re working on figuring out how to cut the door,” Tyler said, shrugging. “We need to get the Troy nice and stable first. No rotation. That’s going to be interesting. Then we have to cut the door. It’s a kilometer and a half of nickel iron. Which is just great at dissipating heat. I’m on the three twenty to Wolf, General. Some issues have come up. I’ll have to talk about that later.”
“Have fun in 359,” the general said, looking quizzical. “Any chance you’re going to bring Granadica back? We could use that production capability in this system.”
“Not on your life,” Tyler said. “To get to Wolf, an enemy has to come through the Sol System. Not to dispute the whole ‘every life is sacred,’ but if we’re going to have a chance, we need Granadica working. I was sweating the whole time she was in the Sol System. She’s not coming back until I either have a replacement or I’m sure she’ll be somewhere very safe.”
“I’m not sure anywhere in this system is safe, Mr. Vernon,” General DeGraff said. “Especially if the Horvath get E Eridani. Unfortunately.”
“Have you looked at the specifications on Troy?”
* * *
“Begin,” Tyler said, waving expansively.
Granadica came complete with design facilities, management offices and meeting rooms. Like much of the fabber, they could all use some TLC. Tyler had let contracts for upgrades and improvements—guys with paintbrushes instead of the fabber having to devote resources—so the current meeting room had a newly built look.
The air still smelled rusty. Coupled with paint. It did not blend well.
The group was mixed human and Glatun. The gas mine project was a huge endeavor, and even with Granadica’s help, it was going to involve a lot of people and a lot of skull-sweat.
Most of the Glatun were from various Gorku departments, but there were members representing six different subcontractors or invested corporations. The humans were just as diverse, coming from a dozen different corporations that were involved with everything from subsystem design to logistical support.
But nobody could really get moving until a few disputes got hammered out.
“Mr. Vernon, gentlebeings,” the Glatun said. It was a VP sent out by Gorku Corp. to act as their representative. “A dispute has broken out even before we can begin initial construction over the primary design of the Wolf Gas Mine. Gorku Corporation has supplied designs for its most advanced technology in gas separation in refining.”
It threw up a video of a space elevator that was, essentially, two flat plates that looked something like washers connected by wires. Dialing down it walked the viewer through the facility as he continued to talk.
“The upper platform rests in geosynchronous orbit,” the Glatun said. “The system has four large storage tanks capable of moving two million gallons of helium-three per hour. That is enough to fuel an entire Glatun task force.
“The separation center, resting in the near Earth gravity region, pumps up fuel from the depths of the gas giant through four large carbon nanotube woven pipes and refines it. Return pipes for unused gases create a siphon effect, reducing the need for pumping power.
“Four carbon nanotube support wires hold the two sections together. At each end, each wire splits into sixteen separate secondary connection wires. The system can remain stable with as few as four of each.
“There is an elevator as well,” he concluded, “for movement of supplies and personnel in and out of orbit. This was the initial design, a design well tested in the Mi’Wexiqey system.”
“Well tested, my rear quadrant,” Granadica said.
“You’ll get your chance,” Tyler said. “Continue.”
“The design does include some proprietary components, which some have suggested is intended to increase profitability to certain parties,” the Glatun said distastefully. “But it is the very best design available. Absolutely state-of-the-art. Gorku Corporation is convinced that this is a superior design to more…to earlier systems and as a major investor is…challenged by the idea of using a less capable design.”
“What’s proprietary?” Tyler asked.
“Some of the so-called separation systems,” Granadica said.
“They are superior systems,” the Gorku VP said.
“They’re over-priced junk,” Granadica said. “All you have to do is look at the actual output of the Mi’Wexiqey Mine!”
“That was when we were testing this system,” one of the other Glatun said, then shut up at a look from the VP.
“There were some teething issues with Mi’Wexiqey,” the VP said. “But we have worked those out. This system is a refinement of those.”
“Okay,” Tyler said. “Before we get into a shouting match with the AI that controls our air…Granadica? And less on the negatives and more on the positives, please?”
“The problem is the negatives,” Granadica said. “I built my first gas mine over five hundred years ago in the Bulhubic system. Still works like a charm. Some of the new stuff they’re doing just makes sense. We always had problems with the boron fiber support wires. Carbon nanotube’s a better material and the spinners they’re providing are great. All for it. And the Apollo suggestions on producing the upper and lower rings are good. It’s these new pumps that I think are nuts.”
“Reason?” Tyler asked.
“There are the usual heavy grav pumps at the base of the lift pipes,” Granadica said. “All good. But the system uses a series of pre-separators during lift. Theoretically, it should cut down on the separation requirements on the top side. That saves power overall, which saves money. They’re proprietary and add about ten percent to the cost, but theoretically they’ll save you money in the long run. Theoretically. Truth is, Gorku’s never gotten them to work. Mi’Wexiqey is still only separating at twenty percent of its rated capacity. Because it’s all got to be done by the upper separators. Which, because they’re built to do a final separation, not primary, can’t handle the full load. They’ve been tweaking and tweaking and tweaking but they can’t get it to work. And now they want to foist off the same stupid system on you ignorant humans.”
