Chapter 32: Software

Click “Mockingham and Lartin, how may I direct your call?”

“Director Imballa please.” replied the nervous girl seated at my desk. I sat in the chair at ease while she made a time saving call.

“Marion Imballa’s office.”

“This is Catherine Larkin. I would like to make an appointment with Director Imballa, please.”

“Miss Larkin, which company do you represent and the nature of your visit please?”

“Enhanced Power Incorporated, EPI. I want to purchase a software seat of your new remote guidance program.” We discussed the call earlier and I hinted that referring to herself as my student might not get her past the gate keeper. Her reaction was amusing to say the least, implying that being my student should outrank ownership in a company.

“I will pass on your request, Miss Larkin. May I have your contact information?” Cat gave it and hung up not getting anywhere.

“So. How long before they get back and will they get back to me?”

“Give it a week, then try a different approach.”

“SB1 is dumber than a fish. And he can’t hit a thing. The plasma cutting wheel was a disaster and the whip was more dangerous to himself than the trees in front of him. In fact, the safest place to be is where he is aiming.” Cat complained yet again.

“Not completely true. The lasers will hit what he aims at.” The Twelve foot tall, four legged, monstrous bot’s dual Gatling Lasers were impressive. “Too bad its tracking system was terrible, even with the software linkage to his optics. And the grenade launchers are area of effect and do a decent job of hitting the vicinity of its intended target.”

“Only if they are on crutches. Your idea of getting a thousand used golf balls was a good one. He’s improved a whole percentage in a week. I still would need to spend a year just to make a real tracking program and I don’t want to take the time to commission one. Unless I have to.”

“Catherine, you are not in a race.”

“Everything takes so bleeding long,” she continued on as if not hearing me. “The Project will get a boost tomorrow, I have three dozen GB’s ready to start helping you level the area. What are we going to do about the foundation?”

“Unless you want cement, I suggest the Chemist.”

“Oh sure, it’s only 35,592 truckloads of cement. I am sure that that will go over well with the neighbors. If we had any ... Wait. Isn’t the Chemist a Maddy?”

“He was when he was young, not anymore.”

“Fine, call him.”

...

Cat answered the door in an autumn-colored sundress. A six-two, two-forty black man, so dark he was almost blue, stood in on the porch in a raggedy pair of old blue jeans and a wornout Walter Payton Jersey. The formally white ‘34’ had yellowed and was peeling off the similarly faded dark shirt. The briefcase in his huge left paw was older than Cat and in a similar condition as the jersey.

“Hi. Are you the Chemist?” Cat asked worriedly.

“Aren’t you a cute little thing? Is your daddy home?”

“Ha. He’s nappin’ at his desk. You hafta to deal with me today.”

“Little girl, can I interest you in a new pair of shoes? Not that it looks like you are lacking in that department. But we have a superior product. Ours at Salem Shoes Source in Succotash, South of Savannah, are here to satisfy your needs.” The wily man teased Catherine.

“That was good, do you have any others?”

“Not on a parched throat.” The large man chuckled with his deep bass voice.

“Can you do the washing machine one too?”

“Kids these days are never satisfied. Are you going to invite me in or what?” Clarence growled.

“I was always told to not let strange people in.”

“What about him? Do they come any stranger?”

Glancing over her shoulder, Cat frowned. “Him? You should see his closet. Six pair of shoes exactly the same. He’s as boring as his twenty sets of identical white dress shirts. That isn’t strange in the least.”

“Maybe all he needs is a good woman to straighten him out. Or two.”

“Yeah, right. Come in, Chemist. I have a huge project and want your help.”

“Smith,” We shook hands, “at least pretend to age once in a while.”

“Good to see you again, Clarence. This is Cat’s show. She will tell you what she wants.”

The two of them sat at the table while I asked Julia to bring coffee for our guest. Cat already had her iced tea.

“I need a million square foot foundation. One thousand by one thousand. There won’t be too much weight on it, but I need it to be as close to perfectly level as possible. Here are my criteria for compression and energy resistance. It will also need to be reinforced against high levels of magnetism.”

“Is that all? Let me guess, you want it done tomorrow too.”

“Four months tops, but I need the first section poured in two months.”

Reading the bulletined list Cat passed over, Clarence replied professionally, “I have something that should work. Just don’t know how good it is against your oversized magnets.”

“Send me a sample, I can test it out.”

“Your new playground won’t be hosting a football field, will it?”

“No. My next Project will be on magnetism. Master thinks it needs to be big for better readings.”

“And how will you be paying for my hard work?”

“Bank transfer?”

“Not good enough.”

“What do you want?”

“A trip for two around the world. You and me sailing over the seas...” He grinned, his pure white ivory white gleamed, in high contrast to his midnight black skin.

“And what would your wife think of that?” Cat pointed at his gold band adorning his left ring finger from across the dining room table.

“We won’t be telling her. NO way, no how.” Shaking his head alarmed.

“Try again.”

“Such a Puritanical viewpoint. Kids these days,” he complained to me. Cat sat, composed and waiting.

“My kids would love to be astronauts.”

“That can be arranged, I hear NASA has a cadet program.” I smiled at her retort. “Shut it.” Giving me the LooK.

“Poor Smitty, he is already cowed by the ‘look’ from such a pretty young lass.”

“A trip for two plus cash. How much?”

“Twelve, ten upfront.”

“I need to test your sample first. How long before you can start pouring?”

“I can have a crew in two weeks with enough to get them started. As for application time, three months. -Ish. And I will send over a two-by-two slab for you to test by Monday. Leveling the plot is up to you.”

Cat looked at me to see if she could trust him. I silently agreed. “Deal.”

“Deal.” Clarence spit in the palm of his right hand and offered it to her.

“EWW. NOT. Wash your hands first and I might think about it.” She hid behind her chair, accompanied by her guest’s false sad face.

“Haven’t you taught her anything?”

“Her laser shoots through schools. And the cars in the parking lot, and the houses across the way ... I think she will be okay.”

“But can she cook?”

“Cat reprogrammed the cooking Bot. It makes a great stir fry.”

“Any chance of rampaging?”

“I am right here, you know!”

“90% after she graduates. At least for a few months.”

“Jerk.” ‘Don’t ignore me.’

“I know where a few zebras live, will she accept commissions.”

“NO, I WILL NOT! Zebras are cute.”

“Cat, I think he means the two-legged kind.” I corrected.

“Oh, I still won’t take commissions for ... UGH! You both suck.”

“How about showing me your playground?”

“Not until you wash your hands.”

“I don’t think she trusts me,” Clarence bemoaned.

...

“He’s nice. Why does he dress so shoddily?”

“You would have to ask him. But he looks comfortable to me.”

“Maybe he will earn enough to buy a new car. That one is on its last legs.”

“It’s a disguise.”

“It is?”

“No.” I turned and went back inside while she cursed me out.

Clarence’s sample passed Cat’s tests and the deal was struck. We were able to start the assembly in two months, working on the completed sections while the sprayers completed the second half of the foundation.

...

“I filed a flight plan. We are going to Maryland tomorrow. Stupid Mockingham and Lartin didn’t return my call or answer my email.”

“EPI is a battery manufacturer for electric cars. It’s not like they are normal customers or suppliers of military aircraft manufacturers.”

“I know. A call back would have been nice though. We are going to need labor to help assemble the Project. The shell assembly is going to be a pain in the ass and don’t get me started on the wiring. We are also going to need techs. Once active it will need four just for monitoring the work. I can’t spend my life on that.”

...

On a clear Wednesday morning we arrived in northern Maryland at the private airstrip of the large industrial complex, drawing a crowd as Cat had intended. According to her, knocking politely didn’t work so she was going to ‘storm the gates’. She mock pouted when I suggested that leaving her Gauss Rifle at home might be for the best.

Cat drove our car twenty feet above the ground to their front entrance, settling down before the large glass doors. She was in her latest favorite outfit; white, low rise, side zipped, leather pants, doe skin boots and an open matching sleeveless jacket with a black mini bustier underneath. She even carried the new briefcase that her mother bought her for her 18^th birthday.

Taking the telemetry from a port in front of the driver’s door. “We are still getting a mild fluctuation when hovering in place. Your power plant doesn’t like to idle.”

Seeing that she achieved her goal of getting attention, “Let’s go in.”

The receptionists were the first line of defense, the metal detectors the second and the bank of elevators were the third. “Welcome to Mockingham and Lartin, how may I help you today?” A polite young woman asked with a smile, trying to ignore her seniors at all the windows looking at the flock of people heading towards the flying car, which was hovering in place eighteen inches off the ground.

“I would like to see someone about purchasing a couple seats of your software.”

“Do you have an appointment, Miss Larkin?”

“I don’t. We were in the area and hoped to catch someone. If not, then I’d at least like to make an appointment,” she blatantly lied.

“One moment. Let me see if I can get someone for you.”

“Thank you, Nancy.” Cat read the woman’s name tag dangling around her neck.

Cat’s collar, my cane and my leg set off the metal detectors when we were invited to the fourth floor. A gentleman named Samuel Morse agreed to meet with us. Thirty minutes later we were back in the elevator on our way out of the building after a firm refusal to sell Cat a guidance system seat, even if she was not planning on using the product for any salable goods. Even for personal use only, the answer was still no.

“Plan B?” I asked knowing that they would likely refuse her request.

“Montreal. But lunch first.”

“What is in Montreal?”

“IdeoZ.”

“What do they make?”

“Games. Their graphical quality isn’t the highest but they have the highest rated AI.”

“Real AI and the rote ones from games are not the same.”

“I know. But I plan on introducing the base sets into my bots to see if they can integrate it.”

“Will they be willing to sell it to you?”

“Yes, and cheaply. I can even get them to help me integrate it.”

...

“Hi, I’m Catherine Larkin, I have an appointment with Dean.”

“OMG! You’re her! GUYS! Someone, go kill Deano.” The young man in jeans and a green polo shouted into the back after Cat’s introduction.

A six-foot-eight beanpole of a man came out of the populous back room in a similar jeans and polo combo brushing past his boisterous coworkers. “I’m Dean. Hi.”

“Hi, can I come in or are we going to talk in the lobby?” Catherine asked mischievously.

“My office is messy. Normally we don’t get visitors. I do have a clean table in back but there’s no doors.”

“That’s fine. The old man with me needs a place to sit and read his Villain gossip.” Seven heads swiveled away from my charge, looking me over for the first time.

“Come on back. You lot, get to work.” With a serenade of boos directed at their boss, the programmers returned to their stations.

The software shop was fairly small, twenty-eight young men and women between the ages of twenty and thirty-five, all watched ‘her Idolship’ walk alongside their boss to a steel card table with four premium quality gaming chairs surrounding it.

I let them work out the details of their deal in peace and wandered around, as per my expectations, no one was playing any games. A few were testing 3D simulations but the rest of the staff was busy coding. “You might want to try embedding that mobility subroutine in a different library, placing it there will cause a hiccup later.” I pointed out to a young woman in a black polo from over her shoulder before walking on. Over the next two hours, I made pointed suggestions to a few of the coders, even answering a question here and there.

Cat and Dean found me surrounded by a dozen diligent students, as I gave an impromptu lecture on basic AI’s and how they could improve upon their rote ones used in contemporary games.

Jotting down a few scripts that would be the foundation for their subsequent programs. “The core of AI’s is the learning routines. If you enter too much preprogrammed knowledge in the beginning, then they have trouble growing later. Look at it this way, if your AI already knows everything, why grow?”

“And they are dumb as rocks in the beginning. At least mine are,” Cat added, causing the student body to turn and stare.

“AI’s learn best by doing. Even if it’s the same activity over and over. Remember they don’t get bored.” I finished up my lecture, “Seeing that Catherine is done with her business here, is there a good restaurant nearby that anyone recommends?”

Masterson’s was the consensus. An Indian family restaurant three blocks away.

“Did you just teach them how to build their own AI’s?” Cat asked after we were seated and placed orders while sipping her iced tea.

“Just the foundation. The rest will be up to them.”

“Aren’t you worried about it going rogue later?”

“The current AI’s out there have too many constraints. I want to see some unfettered ones pop up.”

“I hope you know what you are doing,” she worried aloud.

“Besides, they will need the extra help in order for you to merge your programming with theirs.”

“I guess so.”

“What did you get from them?”

“Their last two games’ software as long as I don’t publish it or rip too badly. I also hired them to work on a dedicated targeting system for SentryBot. I plan on taking a break from that to work on the ‘Fan’.”

“Makes sense. There are only so many hours in a day.”

“UGH. Not enough. I am going to have to sub out more projects. The problem is finding decent people. Professor Ek refused to help me out on the Project. He is staying to teach.”

“That’s no real surprise.”

“I had hoped. Gunther said he knows a few ‘ youngsters’ that can be of use. Knowing him, they will be in their sixties.” She laughed at the idiosyncrasies of the old physicist.

...

“I was hoping to use a different method to achieve this. Are you sure you won’t let me see your blueprints on gravity drives?”

“After your senior project is complete. We can discuss it then and not before.”

“Fine, be stingy... 3.2.1. Test.”

The circular support frame stressed its tethers holding it in place as her magnetic Device reacted against the earth’s field and pushed away from the ground at exactly 1.961 KN, achieving the desired results. Magnetic levitation. “How is the power consumption?”

“Within parameters. Lower by 02.033% than I calculated. No spikes surges or draughts. Bah...”

“Easy can be good too, you know. Stepping stones. What are your plans for this?”

“The core Device is easy to make. They will have to be encrypted though. I’ll have to ask my super smart and dependable Master to do that for me. I haven’t delved into encryption yet. Then I will steal the hoverbike frame you have laying in the parts storage and make a new toy for Lissa. She fell off her board yesterday and crashed into another tree doing tricks. I worry for that Slut.”

“And you think a hoverbike will be safer?”

“I’ll put a governor in it so she can’t try to loop the stupid thing. Falling off will be much harder, even for her. I hope.”

“What about SentryBot?”

“Him first. I need to rework the internals first to accommodate the larger volume required for the Magnetic Propulsion.”

I saw her hesitate. “Master?...”

“Yes?”

“I stumbled onto something while testing Boris out.”

“Boris?” I asked, lost.

“Boris is SentryBot. He needed a name.”

“What did you discover?”

“I wanted to see how he would perform underwater ... and well, it was better than I imagined.”

“How much better?”

“I could achieve two hundred knots with a simple addition to the car. Not sure how quiet it would be, but it wouldn’t have any moving parts. The rest is unknown. That would need empirical data.”

“And what were you planning on doing with the technology once you established your benchmarks?” I asked carefully.

“I want to test it out on one of the navy’s mini subs. They are testing Wilson’s version right now.”

“Do you think that your Device might unbalance things a bit?”

“It takes three years to build a sub from scratch and there aren’t any to retrofit. One or two out there won’t make a difference. Besides, I want the minisub’s data for my future studies. It’s that or build one my own for testing, man it, equip it and all that other BS, taking years. Also, the Navy will study and learn. Hopefully someone else can help with suggestions. The more they help, the less time I will have to spend. And cash. I am already committed to Moria’s anchor for a billion over 4 years.”

“And you think the Navy will let you rebuild one of their subs just on your say so?”

“Probably. I won’t know if I don’t ask.”

“Ask me again in a few days. You still need to put that in one of your Bots to see if there are any compatibility issues.”

“I know. I’ll Call General Jackson and see if he can stop by next week.”

“Not Mayhew? He is our Liaison.”

“I don’t like him.”

I shook my head. This girl and her grudges. “Fine, any day other than Monday.”

“Thanks.”

“There is something else bothering your, isn’t there?” I asked while she returned to her readings. The frame’s only fluctuations were from the uneven tethers, not from any power disturbances in the power output.

“Yeah. Something I have been thinking about lately. I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“When you are, I’m here.” She acknowledged my offer before returning to her charts.

...

“Good morning, Miss Larkin.”

“Morning, General Jackson. Please come in,” Responded the maturing teen in an amber Gown.

“Are we expecting company?” The head of DSI asked while following the overdressed young lady into the library.

“Gown week. I’m giving this one another try. Not sure if I like it or not.”

“It has my approval.”

“Ha, you said you have seven daughters. Of course, you would say that.” Cat teased her visitor. “Julia will bring you some coffee in a couple minutes.”

“Thank you. I was not aware that you brought on staff.” Our guest commented while taking a seat in the spare chair that Cat sometimes used when not spread out on the couch. I observed from the workshop, while extruding the final layer of armor for ‘Boris’.

“She is Master’s cooking bot. You wouldn’t believe the junk that was programmed in her before I found her. Ugh, he has no taste.”

Smiling fondly at his hostess, General Jackson accepted a cup of strong black coffee from Julia.

“On one of my experiments, I stumbled across something unexpected.” Her guest set down his coffee mug on the coaster and gave Catherine his full attention expecting something big from my student. “I was testing a Magnetic Propulsion Device for my Bots underwater. I think I can design one for your subs and would like to use one of your test mini subs.”

“What kind of performance are you expecting? So far by my understanding, magnetic propulsion is too slow to be practical.”

“A few hundred percent increase over Wilson’s proposal. He expects to achieve 22.1 knots under full power at a depth of fifty meters.”

“Seventy knots for an attack sub?” The wizened General sat even more erect.

“87.4 knots on an Ohio class. But I am not positive it will be soundless or it will even work the way we think. That is why I want to use one of your Mini subs as a test bed.”

“It might not work?” he asked carefully.

“It will work. I already tested it on a small scale. That doesn’t mean that on large scale we won’t encounter issues, such as magnetic interference, energy spikes, unexpected noise or interference. I believe we can focus the wave path through the tube only. But without a practical experiment, I can not know for sure.”

Sitting back and taking a drink of his coffee, “What are you expecting from us?”

“I will need full disclosure to all the telemetry and real time access of the test minisub. I will provide the Devices necessary and the prints, while you build it.”

“If it does work, then what are your plans?”

“I am willing to sell two and only two sets of Devices for new subs of your choice. One any time after the New Years and one two years after the first. You can’t build subs faster than that, so it should not be an issue. Besides, Master will not allow any more until I graduate.”

“I know the navy has one Virginia class attack submarine on the schedule that had been approved by Congress. You might want to reconfigure that one and put it on hold for a few months while we test or wait for the next one.”

“What about surface vessels?”

“It would be a waste. Too much loss from surface friction, besides, I don’t think it will be safe for those on board moving that fast in heavy weather. And what use would be a silent destroyer be? They are big and shiny after all.”