Chapter 305 - Taking Stock
Chapter 305
Taking Stock
Alexander rolled his leather chair across the workshop floor, tablet in one hand. Droney hovered in the air beside him.“Alright, let’s start with you.”
He spun to face the primary fabricator and pulled up its production history with Technopathy, letting the logs scroll through his mind. Talia had kept the fabricators running steady, cycling through the necessary drone components while also building up a decent stockpile of replacement parts. Meanwhile, the automated ceiling arms had performed admirably, feeding replacement material into the feeders and ferrying finished parts to the storage bins in the alcoves along the far wall.
Talia had even programmed the arms to partially construct the drones, something he’d been intending to do but had never quite gotten around to. She must have put the rest together manually, and even hauled them to the roof to charge manually.
He really owed her one. Maybe even two. Then again, he had gifted her a whole supercomputer. Perhaps they were even.
The filters were getting close to the red, though. Not urgent, but another week of continuous operation would push them past tolerance. He set a reminder to clean them soon and moved on, rolling toward the secondary fabricator.
“The way I see it, buddy, you need three things,” Alexander said, opening the fabricator and checking the tubing connections on the secondary unit. Residue buildup along the interior walls. He’d need to flush the lines before the next production run. “Superior armor. Better speed. And a proper interface for the M.G.S.”
Droney beeped.
“No, you don’t need a flamethrower.”
Droney beeped again, more insistently.
Alexander pulled a disposable nozzle that had been worn beyond the point of reliability, then tossed it into the recycling bin before pulling a replacement from the rack of spares with Metallokinesis.
“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he said, slotting the new nozzle into place before spinning back toward the main workstation. “A spherical capsule. Kind of like your knight helmet, but more like how the OACS is an armored suit to me. It closes around your chassis, with your power source driving the whole thing once you’re inside. Plug-and-play. That way, you can take it off when you just want to hang out.”
He reached into the supercomputer across the room with Technopathy and fed the specifications into the simulation software.
The parameters took shape in his mind. It would need layers of armor. The outer shell would be heat and flame resistant. Unfortunately, without access to military-grade ablative, he’d be reliant on whatever he could get commercially, but along with copious amounts of tungsten it should be enough. The inner layers of the armor would need to provide kinetic absorption, ensuring any shock didn’t reach Droney at the center. The design would be similar to what he used for the original gauntlets and his cybernetic arm, just scaled up.
“The armor alone is going to add considerable weight,” he continued, rolling toward the component racks along the far wall. Baskets of fabricated parts lined the shelves, sorted by type. Motor assemblies. Circuit boards. Sensor packages. Structural alloy blanks. He looked through each, taking stock. “Which is why we need to solve your speed problem at the same time.”
Droney chirped.
“Yeah, I’m going to use the extra hoverbikes we borrowed from New York. Their hovertech is the most advanced I’ve seen for raw acceleration in a compact form factor.” A second thread of Technopathy compared the data in his tablet against the stock in front of him. Everything was in order. “If I strip them down to the propulsion components and rebuild them to work in sync, mounted at six points within the capsule, the thrust-to-weight ratio should be enough to keep up with me most of the time.”
He fed the thrust specifications into the simulation alongside the armor parameters. Weight distribution. Acceleration curves at various loads and during rapid direction changes. Power draw against Droney’s micro-fusion hydrogen core.
“Close to Mach 1,” he said, checking the early numbers as they populated. “Not quite enough to break the sound barrier based on these initial estimates, but fast enough.”
Droney beeped twice. Then a third time, with a rising tone that Alexander had learned to interpret as a suggestion.
“Rocket launchers. Really?” Alexander sighed. “Where would we even mount them? What about the ammo loaders? Besides, I’ve got no experience with explosives. We’re more likely to blow ourselves up.”
Droney’s visor flickered.
“Okay, fine. I’ll see what I can do. But no rockets.” He rolled to the end of the room, where he’d kept the components taken from Gabriel Santiago. The crates sat where he’d left them, unopened since the initial inventory. “There are some things in here that might work. His napalm launchers didn’t need ammunition. They generate fuel using some sort of System-fuckery.”
He rested a hand on the crate. The Technopathic itch was there, as always. The urge to reach in, interface, and understand the engineering magic behind it. Test it. But the tech belonged to the System, and he was pretty damn certain the System wanted him dead, even if for some reason it was avoiding delivering the killing blow directly.
If Zephyr really was the father of the System, maybe he or she or it had programmed it with something similar to the three laws of robotics. Wouldn’t that be a joke?
Either way, trust was an issue.
“You know what, no. I’m not putting anything from these crates into your systems or mine until we’ve figured out how to take ownership away from the System. The Skipper already tried to kill me.” He paused. “Granted, being put in a situation where I needed to use it was my own dumb fault. I should know better than to play with my opponents.”
Droney beeped, sounding vaguely disappointed.
“Don’t give me that. You’ll get plasma weapons and shield generators with the core layer of the M.G.S. That should be more than enough to keep you entertained while I come up with something better.”
Droney’s visor brightened.
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
Alexander grinned and rolled back to the main workstation. “I just need to figure out what to give you for nonlethal options.”
He pulled up the capsule model and began defining the interface architecture. This was the part that mattered most, beyond the armor and the speed. The capsule would serve as the command and control center for the entire Machine God System. Droney would sit at the heart of it, capable of interfacing with every weapon system and drone.
The capsule needed to facilitate that. Amplify Droney’s processing. Expand its network bandwidth. Provide redundant communications pathways in case of jamming, perhaps even relying on light signals alongside wide and tight-beam radio.
He fed the interface specifications into the simulation and leaned back.
Droney beeped.
Alexander turned and stared at the drone. “Nets. You want nets?”
Droney beeped affirmatively.
“You want to catch people in nets? Then reel them in like a prize?”
Another affirmative beep.
Alexander blinked. “Actually, that’s not a terrible idea. A woven alloy mesh with weighted edges would be compatible with Metallokinesis.” He shrugged. “Fine. I’ll add it to the simulation. We’ll see what the computer thinks of the idea.”
Droney did a small spin.
Alexander laughed. Then he began reviewing the successful spec sheets the supercomputer had produced for the M.G.S. during his time away. With Droney’s acceptance to act as the system’s brain, he would be less reliant on each wedge having its own power supply, and even be able to provide power through Soul Circuit.
It was still important, though, and he’d need to find time to meet with someone high up at Goliath to make a bulk order purchase.
Hopefully that wouldn’t create an incident. This close to the Cataclysm, and with the other priorities on his plate, he really didn’t have time to throw down with yet another mega-corp.
Even if he kind of wanted to.
An hour later, he set the fabricators to producing what components they could. The timeline was going to be tight, and he’d need to purchase a number of things, but it should be ready in time to test it out against Caroline.
He frowned. Hopefully it would withstand the Tier 3.
The simulations for Droney’s suit would take hours to run through every permutation, which left him with some free time.
In the mansion above, he could sense Augustus was preparing breakfast. Some of the others were already awake. His senses swept further out, where he found Annie sparring with Caroline in the air above the beach.
Alexander stood up. “I’m heading to Astra Omnia.” He headed for the door. “You coming? I think it’s about time we met your sibling.”
Droney raced after him, beeping excitedly.
***
Alexander stepped into the Doorman’s doorway, leaving the island behind, and through to the other side, arriving in the security box at the heart of the Fort.
The space was small and windowless, just large enough for two people and a doorway. Above him, sitting on the roof, a Tier 2 signature stiffened at his arrival. A second later, the tension eased as the guard identified him.
Alexander pushed open the reinforced door and stepped into the courtyard.
The garden had come a long way since his last visit. Soil beds lined the walking paths, filled with plants and trees and grasses. All of it thriving thanks to the full-spectrum lights mounted high above, along with the water trickling from somewhere out of sight, feeding into the garden beds all around him.
The air smelled like earth and leaves and a hint of floral. It smelled like outside, which was the entire point. A properly outfitted space station could keep people living on it almost indefinitely, but without a piece of the ground you came from, it would slowly hollow you out.
At least, that’s what the psychologists and their studies said. And he believed it. Which was why he’d taken extra care when designing the layout.
Standing here now, breathing it all in, he was glad he had.
A waist-high railing enclosed the garden and the security box within it, subtle enough to look decorative. His Technopathy picked up the security measures built into the floor beneath the railing, and more embedded in the ceiling high above. Motion sensors. Pressure plates. Targeting systems tied to concealed emitters. Layers of defense that a visitor would never notice and an intruder might never survive.
He nodded approvingly and headed for the only gap in the railing.
A young merc stood guard beside it. Tier 1. He straightened as Alexander approached.
“Sir.”
Alexander returned the nod and followed the path through the garden. Droney drifted along beside him, visor swiveling to take in the greenery.
The courtyard stretched in both directions, filling the entirety of the building’s interior. He could hear voices carrying from further along the path. Footsteps on stone. The murmur of conversation through open windows. His senses mapped the signatures as he walked, trying to identify who was who.
Jasmine and Carmen and the others had been busy. The Fort felt lived-in now. Not just constructed and secured, but inhabited. There were staff moving throughout the corridors. Security standing at their posts. Residents going about their morning. Or night. Space station time was always weird.
His senses swept over the children. Ash. Zane. Zara. Allie. The rest of the Whitmore rescues. They were gathered in one room, evenly spaced, seated and mostly still. It reminded him of a classroom. The person with them, standing at the front of the room, was unfamiliar. But the disciplined bearing in how they paced back and forth suggested a military background.
Probably one of the Triple S mercenaries LEsley had assigned to the Fort’s permanent detail.
Two guards flanked the automatic doors leading into the lobby. They nodded as he approached. The doors parted and he stepped through.
Four more guards occupied the lobby, positioned to cover every sightline.
Bill sat behind the reception desk. For the first time in Alexander’s memory, the man wasn’t playing video games at his desk. He was studying a tablet in his hand intensely.
A flicker of Technopathy revealed the electronic document to be a residential application.
“Something must be wrong,” Alexander said, approaching the reception desk. “You’re actually working.”
Bill looked up, then jumped to his feet, surprise written on his face. “Mr. Rooke! Sir. I didn’t know you were back.” His face scrunched up. “Not that you shouldn’t be, of course. I mean… welcome back, sir.”
Alexander chuckled. “It’s all good, Bill.” He paused. “Just out of curiosity, where did you think I was?”
Bill shrugged. “No idea, sir. Honestly, wasn’t actually certain that you were anywhere in particular, except that I hadn’t seen you return from that trip last month. Neither had the other reception staff.” He frowned. “And I remember for a while there that everyone was looking rather grim. Er, no pun intended, sir.”
Alexander nodded. That was good. If even Bill didn’t have any clue about the leader of Grimnir going missing for a month, nor that he’d recently returned, it meant Grimnir’s information security protocols were working as intended.
He dipped his chin toward the tablet in Bill’s hand. “You’re reviewing applications. What for?”
Bill nodded. “Yes, sir. Ms. Sharpe and Ms. Reyes, for some reason, decided to trust me with reading over the personnel applications. I pick out those who seem like a good fit for any open roles, and send them on.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know if you know, sir, but we have quite a number of requests to open small businesses within the Fort. And I hear property prices around the Fort, on this level of the station at least, have all gone up.”
Alexander raised an eyebrow. The man was surprisingly informed. He’d come a long way from threatening the Machine God with a rifle. “If you hear about any of the local properties looking to sell, notify Carmen. Tell her I want them.”
Bill’s eyes widened. He pointed to himself. “Me? Sir? Shouldn’t someone more, uh, senior, do that?”
Alexander smacked the desk gently with his cybernetic hand. “Consider yourself promoted, Bill.” He headed for the exit, where Droney was already waiting. “The Fort needs an official manager. You’ve earned it.”
“Does it come with a raise, sir?” Bill called after him.
Alexander laughed. “Ask Carmen!”