Chapter 21: Stresses

May 26^th 2021

“Master, I have a price and wish list.”

“Four fabricators?” I asked after skimming the pages long list she passed over to my laptop.

“WE are going to have to take one apart. If I add a fourth to the purchase, we get an extra ten percent off and I need three anyway.”

“Four full control units?”

“Yes. The initial plan is going to include the control unit in the Device design.”

“Why do you want factory new?” I agreed with her decision, but wanted to hear what she thought.

“I can’t afford to strip each to make sure they haven’t used secondary parts.”

“These are the chemicals needed?” I looked over the list.

“And quantities,” she replied.

“How about only ordering sample sizes for now.”

“I planned on it. Besides, we don’t have room yet.”

“Yet?” I had an idea where that was heading.

“I am going to need a clean room. A couple.”

“These fabricators aren’t little.” I replied looking over their dimensions.

“Okay. We will need a couple of large clean rooms,” she admitted.

“One for now. We will discuss the rest later.”

“Three. The second we will be using to strip the extra fabricator to check its parts and verify the blueprint.”

“Where are you planning on storing the twenty-five chemical tanks?”

“That is what one of the clean rooms will be used for. The tubing can be added later connecting the tables.”

So, she did understand that one was not enough to begin with. “What about disposal and venting?”

“I’m stealing the reclaiming vent from station1, the basic metal cutting hardly needs your high-end chemical recycler. Since its already hooked into the system, rerouting won’t be a hassle.”

“What else?”

“We need to go to Austria for four days.”

“For?”

“They won’t sell the fabricators without certification. Their in-house class is required. You have to come too.”

“Sounds responsible of them. Spill it.” Another one of Cat’s catch phrases, “What is the catch?”

“Governmental licenses. Storing and using most of the base reagents will need them. Lots of them. Same with disposal. Fire department even has a say. I can’t even order them without the proper license numbers in hand. It could take months or even up to a year to get approved. IF they approve us. And I don’t think they will unless you pull strings.”

“I’ll ‘pull some strings’. The rest is up to you.” She didn’t look convinced.

“How long?” she asked.

“Take care of your end, I have mine.”

Cat looked relieved. She unconsciously relied on me, yet worried at the same time about the extended delay.

...

Click. “General Mayhew. I need a full range HazMat license.”

“Smith? What on earth for?”

“My new student is going to experiment on creating a new capacitor. The fabricators require some pretty ugly chemicals.”

“That’s beyond your current remit.”

“It is.”

“What are you offering?”

“One flight of Hummingbirds.”

“What the hell is a Hummingbird?”

“Send someone to pick it up in a day or two. It will be worth your time.”

“You and your toys. The last one is still in operation. I don’t know how you do it but I can’t refuse the opportunity. I’ll contact you tomorrow with the courier’s info.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Between you and me?”

“Yeah. Off the record.”

“She is ready to go off on her own right now at journeyman level.”

“FUCK. How did you do that? More of your hocus pocus?”

“No such thing. She was primed and ready. A liberal dosing of KWQ helped speed her up.”

“Can you dose David? He was accepted to Annapolis in the fall.”

“Twenty second through the twenty fourth. I need a fresh DNA sample by the seventeenth. What do you want for him?” ... after we discussed which classes might be best, my military contact in charge of all super liaisons, disconnected, promising delivery of Cat’s license number before the 4^th of July.

“We are getting a courier tomorrow. Ask to see his ID, if it matches with what I send to you later, give him the package. No receipt required.”

“Did you trade a Device for a license?”

“In part, we are also hosting his grandson for a couple days while he gets a dose or two of KWQ.” Catherine did not like the thought of some stranger in our house. At all!

“When?”

“End of next month.” The girl nodded and walked away, frowning.

...

On June 1^st Cat and I entered MFG outside of Vienna and were met by a pair of late twenties engineers in white lab coats. After a quick tour they began their demonstration followed by a hands-on class for two. The first two days were familiarization of the Fabricator and the second two days were troubleshooting. Cat recorded the whole thing. She already had a familiarity with wearing a dust and static free suit from my own much smaller clean rooms where we printed the circuit boards. Both men were standoffish and formal throughout the classes.

Helmut Whurer surprised us after class on Thursday and insisted on taking us both to dinner with his wife. The ancient Austrian family restaurant differed from the high end places we had been patronizing the last few days.

When he asked if she still planned on keeping her original time table of ‘a couple months’, he earned the now famous line of; ‘Shut it’.

No one would admit to posting it. Even though Rachel proclaimed her innocence, Cat wouldn’t let her off the hook, but the now popular catch phrase had swamped the net in her own voice. Secretly, I thought it was Moria’s doing. She enjoyed pranking my current student.

“Getting the licenses is taking forever. As you know we couldn’t even purchase the stupid fabricators until we passed their certification class. We won’t even be able to start testing for a month.”

“What will you do in the meantime Fraulein?” asked Martha Helmut, with a better accent than her husband.

“Work on linkage theory. Master and I have discussed it and I believe I have a few possible solutions.”

“What might those be?”

“Can’t say. The issue is not really the linkages, it is the loss and the stability. Prediction software indicates a plastic deformation in the bottom layers causing a cascade failure. Then pop, a big mess.”

“You have software that predicts 3D printing of micro supercell capacitors?”

“Kinda, but not really. It’s something that Master cobbled together. It’s more of a guideline than anything. The margin of error is huge right now until we get some good runs in. The math is a bit tricky.”

He laughed good-naturedly. “I imagine so.”

The math was indeed more than a ‘bit’ tricky. I chuckled along with our hosts.

“Have you enjoyed your time in Austria?” Helmut’s pleasant wife interjected so that the conversation didn’t get bogged down in work.

“We visited a couple of historic sites. We don’t get out of class until almost five which is midnight our time. Mostly we tour around in the mornings. Besides this is a work trip. We just returned from vacation and I still have to make room for the new clean rooms and the chemical storage room before the equipment arrives.”

“Doesn’t Smith help?”

“Only with teaching. This is supposed to be my project and I am responsible for getting it ready and working.”

“Do you have any fellow students or assistants?”

“God, no. I don’t think Master could handle more people in his house. Rachel is almost too much for him when she visits on the weekends.” The conversation stayed safe and in pleasant areas for the rest of the evening. Cat was developing a tendency to explain everything to anyone without taking the poor sods education and interest levels into account.

I had concerns that it was a byproduct of her intensity levels rising again. Something large and drastic would be needed in the near future.

...

We stayed through the weekend and visited a few of the recommended touristy spots in and around Vienna. Cat had been brought to heel with a glowing red ass on Saturday night from her antsy-ness to return home for work. Sunday she was a bit ginger walking through some of the more famous historic landmarks.

...

The stake trucks arrived with the feeder chemicals on the 17^th but the fabricators weren’t scheduled to arrive until the twenty first. I needed to try something to get her mind off of work for a while. With a slight alteration of the gyro systems, I was set. Now for the hard part.

“Call your parents. Ask if we can steal your sister tomorrow.”

“Where are you going.” She was not planning on moving an inch.

“We are going sightseeing. Call.”

... “Mom wants details.”

“Hand me the phone ... Suzanne...”

...

“Hi mom. Hi Lin, no he didn’t tell me, just to bring my camera and lunch. Why are you looking so worried? It’s just a fieldtrip.”

“Just be safe dear. Lindsay no more sugar today for you, young lady.”

... it was seven AM...

Cat’s preteen sister had been bouncing in place since and probably even before we arrived. “Mom Let Go. We will be fine. The Jerk won’t let anything happen.” Suzanne Larkin hugged her daughters for all she was worth.

“Cat, will you help buckle your sister in while I speak with your mother for a moment.”

“Yeah, come on brat.” The two friendly squabbling sisters ran out to the Car. Lindsay learned how to buckle and properly adjust a five-point harness.

“We might be late, depending on traffic, but I guarantee its 100% safe. I would never risk either of them, Suzanne.”

“I worry. You two are popping up all over the place now. First Ausse, then Austria, now ... I don’t know...”

“Would you like to come?”

“No thank you. And Jeremy may not either. Just bring my babies back home safe.”

“I promise.”

...

“Hop on the headset and request clearance. Destination is 60 by 15 degrees.”

“We are going to Cuba?” Cat responded without plotting the course.

“We aren’t going anywhere if you keep jawing, sis. Just do it,” came from an overexcited coltish preteen from the back seat.

“CCC tower this is flight SCTS2, Shuttle2 requesting clearance for somewhere around Cuba, don’t ask me specifics. The Jerk isn’t telling.” ‘And I have work to do at home... ‘

“Miss Larkin please veer fifty miles east of ... and have a good flight.”

“Wow they even know your name.” Came from the back seat. The youngest Larkin daughter was allowed to listen in but not broadcast.

“Yeah, they’re pretty nice.”

Haha, I have heard that her transmissions had been passed all around the world showing how to amuse the ATC and what not to do for first time pilots.

“Thanks, CCC tower. Lifting off now, headed due south east at a projected altitude of seventy thousand feet at five hundred knots.”

Cat was tasked to answer each and every question that her little sister could ask as long as they weren’t confidential. And there were a lot of questions.

“OH, MY, GODDDD.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” The Larkin sisters chatted back and forth for the hour and a half it took for us to break free of UF air space. “Lin, look out the window. Those are F-15 Es. Wave at them.” they both did, the pilots waved their wings back but only Cat was seen through her temporary un-darkened window. Lindsay was required to be incognito for this trip.

“Hold on. My SD card is full. Let me swap it.”

“Ready ladies?”

“For what?”

“OMG YES, YES, YES!”

“Wave bye to the nice pilots.”

“Ooh! Are those sound barrier rings?”

“Master we just passed 125,000 feet, what are you doing?”

“Mach 7 at 175,000. Mach 9 at 225... 250... 275 ... The Karman line?” My student asked in wonder. “300,000 feet above sea level.” Quietly, but clearly my student counted off... “310 320 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 330,000 feet.”

With a very quiet voice, Catherine stared out the window while speaking to her sister, “Holy cow Lindsay we are astronauts.” The awe in her voice was palpable.

“Hang on.” I slowly rolled the craft 180 degrees so its top was facing Earth. I checked the readings and besides an elevated heart rate, the youngest Larkin was fine.

“How are you two doing?”

Lindsay was busy filming everything and jabbering into her mic at a thousand words per second. In contrast, Cat set the auto record in the vehicle and linked it to her website before reclining and watching the Earth revolve under her.

“What do you see?”

“She’s beautiful.”

“Sometimes Catherine, stepping back and smelling the flowers is not a punishment.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for bringing Lin up with us. My headset is going to combust soon if I don’t answer her.”

“That can wait.”

“Lin, don’t forget to drink something. Master, I don’t think Moria is happy with you,” she commented after reading an incoming text.

“What did she say?”

“I can’t say, Lin is in the car.”

Hah. “That good, eh?”

“Definitely Coal this year too.”

“Why are we rotating back?”

“Lindsay, follow an inch above the green dot. Cat the blue one. Look for a black and silver speck. We are only a hundred miles up right now. It will be hard to see.”

“I see it, I see it, what is it?”

“Me too”

“That is the International space station. It will only be in sight for a minute or so. We are on different orbital paths.”

“Its tiny, how far away is it?”

“A hundred twenty-two miles at the closest.”

“Don’t forget to look at the moon.”

...

I talked Cat through the math on reentry. She had spoken to NASA in Huston for a bit sending the telemetry they had asked for. Lindsay was muted during this time. She couldn’t be with us because of her age and was restricted by both her mother and myself, that she couldn’t tell anyone until she turned eighteen.

...

Cat’s mental calculations were off a bit. We reentered west of Panama. We also had picked up excessive speed in low orbit and needed to bleed some off, at least that was the excuse I made to the world at large. The shields glowed incandescent red until we dropped down to Mach 5 at 75000 feet.

Cat had to wire an additional seventy-five thousand dollars to keep her website up as it broke one hundred million hits in the last twelve hours.

I slowed down to five hundred knots nearing southern California’s air space. The younger Larkin was sound asleep in the back seat. Her motor had over-revved and she couldn’t stay awake.

A much calmer Cat asked for permission and received clearance as we entered UF airspace. A squadron of F-16s followed us cross country to home.

I gave their parents a call while still over the Pacific with an ETA so we could meet and hide the fact that their youngest was along for the ride.

Confiscating the camera on arrival, I carried the twelve-year-old girl into our home and put her onto the sofa to sleep while Cat retrieved the readings from the vehicle for later evaluation. The Larkins arrived at midnight and apparently, they weren’t the only ones, but they were the only ones allowed through the gates.

“Lindsay is asleep on the couch and Cat is out in the garage taking telemetry from the trip. Here are the SD chips from Lindsay’s camera. There is about ten hours of running commentary so Lindsay’s throat might be sore tomorrow.”

“You said you would explain your stunt when we got here,” demanded Jeremy Larkin.

“Let’s go to the den. Catherine will be up a while before going to bed so we have some time.”

Bourbon in hand for Jeremy and I, “Cat hasn’t learned how to unwind. Forcibly making her let go is the only method at my disposal right now.”

“You said that Rachel was doing that,” interrupted Suzanne.

“Helping, but take for instance, a tire. If it is supposed to have 20 pounds of pressure and during its travels it gains an additional twenty. Rachel’s visits release 18 pounds each time. See the issue?”

“Taking her into space is the cure for my daughter’s stress overload?”

“If that worked every time, then yes, I would do that weekly. This time it was a success. My goal is to teach her to find her own stress relievers. Everyone has them and everyone needs them. Cat never needed it until recently.”

“When you took her...” Suzanne asked.

“That was a catalyst, yes. But don’t kid yourself. She would be the same at any learning institution once she came out from hiding from behind your skirts. At a formal learning institution, the professors there would be prohibited from helping Catherine relieve her built up stresses in a personal manner. Recommending a counselor would be their limit if they even noticed or cared.”

“Even on this trip, she wouldn’t have gone with me unless I demanded her presence.”

“Did it help?” a calmer father asked.

“Yes. But Catherine will always have issues in this area.”

A tired but happy student found us in the den ten minutes later. “Hi, Mom, Hi, Dad. Lin did great.” A huge smile plastered on the teen’s face as she hugged both. “It’s been a long day. See ya tomorrow.” She floated out of the room serenely, heading upstairs to bed. Mine, I found out later which was rare for her.

We discussed more of her nature and possible relaxation aids before they gathered the sleeping Lindsay up and returned to their home in the city.

June 19^th 9:02 Saturday morning.

General Jackson, in charge of DSI, entered his ‘think tank’. That was something he didn’t like to do. When he was there, he believed that it stifled open and free discussions among his subordinates. The room quieted. “Any opinions on what that was about?” He demanded from the large room with twenty-seven personnel from all branches.

“Sir, I, we think it was a test flight.”

“I do too, but what was he testing?”

“Sir, according to Lady Strife’s own words, her Shuttle1 would act as a ‘wounded duck’ that high up. Smith’s didn’t. Either Strife is lying or his is an advanced version of hers. Shuttle2 could easily be named 2.0”, a corporal from the Marines offered.

“I have an alternative suggestion, Sir.” An Air force Sergeant raised her hand.

“Speak your mind, Sergeant.”

“I think the trip was for Catherine Larkin.” Their commanding officer waited for an explanation. “We have a recording of the prelaunch and she was clearly displeased with Smith. The stress readings were off the chart. The communication with Huston and NASA, hours later revealed a completely different attitude and set of stress levels. Baseline even. Same with permissions of reentry to the UF airspace. Tired but friendly, relaxed, and happy.”

“Sergeant. Are you suggesting that Smith took a billion dollar aircraft into orbit ‘Just’ to make his student happy?”

“It worked, Sir. I think whatever they are doing at his workshop is extremely high stress. At the rate of her learning, I can’t imagine the pressure she is facing. It would be like finals week every day. It might not be the primary reason of the trip, but it was a strong factor.”

“Anyone think what the Sergeant is saying might be malarkey?

“No one?”

“Sergeant, go ask her yourself. Next item. Did he achieve powered orbital flight?”

“Yes, sir. Stable orbit and return.”

“Any suggestions on why Strife says she doesn’t have it and Smith does?”

“There are numerous possibilities, Sir. It could be anything from too expensive, limited use, power consumption, he wouldn’t sell it to her, the engine burning out after the twelve-hour run, the power supply burning out after a single run. Take your pick, it could be any or all of those reasons,” suggested Captain Collingsworth.

“Strife is on record saying that power is her main concern. It’s possible that the Smith was testing out his power source for her,” added a younger Army Corporal. “Sir. I don’t understand why we are unable to ask Smith these questions.”

“Administration policy. Smith provides services for this nation and earns certain protections.”

“Any other observations?”

“Morning.” A sleepy teen stumbled out to the garage where I was removing Generator Mk LXXXIV. The trashed Gravity Drive Mk XVIII had already been removed before Cat entered my work area, ten minutes before lunch, wrapped in my comforter.