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Nellie and the Nanites - Bk3 - Ch.25
🕑 Added 2024-05-14 08:05:02 +0000 UTCChapter 25
Progress Report.
“Administrator Salem to all department heads, progress report meeting in two hours,” Salem called over the nationwide announcement system. There was probably a station somewhere in the universe where that would not be necessary, but it was here on the Bly’s Rest.
She had put thought, effort, and care into designing a lovely set of offices for the department heads to use. They were efficient, had direct lines to each other as well as her own office, and were organized perfectly.
Of course, not one of the department heads used them except as a place to store data pads they didn’t want to deal with. It was beyond irritating.
Salem had even thought of enforcing office hours, but the simple fact was that they could not afford the time. There were a dozen projects on the go, and while the continuing calls to each other from seemingly random places on the station were like nails down a chalkboard to her methodical nature, the work was getting done.
Fast.
In short, she had allowed the offices to go unused, the calls to continue, and the disorganized mess to proceed at its own rapid pace in exchange for the progress report meetings.
It was all so much easier when Nellie or Lucy were on board. People turned up early for meetings, hung around their offices, and checked in with their locations. Just in case one of them was needed by either of the two Queens.
Her perfectly manicured nails ratted a quick rhythm on her desk as Salem stared out the large window in her office and into the depths of space. The view always made her feel better. Out there, in the depths of space, planets spun, stars shone, and orbits were followed. It was in perfect order—a simple set of rules that created endless, complex systems and utterly predictable and reliable results.
Now, if only she could make her station run as well.
The conference room was large, dominated by a great table that was formed in the same pill shape as the station itself. Salem could blink, and a complete scan of the station would begin to run, overlaying the real-time data above the table and showing her everything in its proper place.
All except for the hole.
“PAREN!” Salem snapped into the private comm line. “Why can’t I see your section again?”
“Sorry!” Paren called back. “The moss ate the sensors again. I’m working on it.”
“The meeting is due to start soon,” Salem growled. “Will they be up by then?”
“Uh, shit.” Paren sounded guilty. “No, sorry. I lost track of time.”
“I made an announcement!” Salem retorted.
“Uh, right.” Paren sighed. “I guess the moss ate the speakers, too.”
“Why is the moss eating my station?” Salem asked coldly.
“It got overexcited!” Paren said defensivley. “I only just taught it to eat metals.”
“Paren!” Salem snapped again.
“Relax, there is an excellent reason for it.” The Prime-Drone added a ‘tone’ to her voice. “This was important.”
“Understood,” Salem said through gritted teeth. “Would you care to join us for the meeting?”
“On my way in five minutes,” Paren called back.
That was another point, Salem thought as her fingers bent the metal table in her irritation. She frowned and ordered a repair.
Running a station was complex, but add to that the fact that she was currently the head of the station and expected to order around the Prime Drone, a thing she could only do when the teenage genius ALLOWED her to do it, and a difficult job could seem impossible.
Everything was so much simpler when the only thing she had to run was a scrap yard.
Dar was, as always, the first to arrive. With things changing quickly in their little group the former security model was now the effective Communications Chief of the station. In addition, he also handled the Security Chief role whenever Remy was not on board. The two roles had enough cross-over that it made things more efficient, which was very pleasing to Salem.
“Thank you for coming, Chief Dar.” She gave him a warm smile.
“Herald,” Dar nodded to her and took his seat. “I see you have been speaking to Paren again.”
Salem’s eyes flicked to the twisted edge of the desk, and she grimaced before nodding.
“She is young and will learn to be more… efficient as she gets older,” Dar said kindly.
“We can only hope,” Salem nodded.
Next to arrive was the new Repairs and Maintenance Officer, Cix-El. The newly upgraded basic model had positively shone in his lowly role, and she had arranged extra training for him. The synthetic man seemed to know no form of complaint, and his work ethic was impressive even to Salem.
What had finally made his appointment to the new role a certainty was when he had merrily entered the botanical levels controlled by Paren and emerged just as happy, whole, and healthy as when he went in.
Not even the other synthetics were comfortable entering that place. Cix-El, on the other hand, seemed to like the place. More astonishing than that, he seemed to like the creations inside. Salem had seen a small video Paren had sent of her of the man repairing a valve when one of the newest generations of smilers had crawled up his back.
He petted it, cooed to it, and it went on its way.
Salem had needed a shower just from seeing one of those things crawling up the man’s back.
When everyone had gathered, they began the meeting with Paren, all well aware that the young woman had the habit of wandering off if she got bored with the meeting.
“Research and Development, will you lead us off?” Salem asked and nodded to Paren.
“Sure,” Paren wiped a few strands of hair out of her eyes. “First off, I will have the sensors and repairs in my areas up and running before the end of the hour. Sorry again about that.” She smiled weakly at Salem, “Now, as to the ongoing projects. I will begin with the recent request for fighter craft. I am already designing long ranger scanner craft, deep space recon craft, a new shuttle for planetary exploration, a resource extraction drone, and so on.” She huffed out a breath in irritation.
“Which would you like to put on a lower priority?” Salem asked.
“None of them,” Paren shook her head. “But it is silly to have all these different designs. So, I am combining them all—well, all except the shuttle.”
“Go on,” Salem sat forward.
“The idea of these craft being separate entities is common to most societies, as they all have very different needs in terms of crew and scanners. We, as nanite-powered or synths, don’t have that restriction. The time I spend designing and refining all these different crafts is a waste. Plus, a single design is a better use of resources, giving us as many of each type of craft as we need. We are the Nanite Space Service, so let’s act like it.” Paren took a slightly nervous breath. So far, that was the most seriously that she had ever taken the meetings.
“How many of the new designs could we build, as opposed to the separate designs?” Salem asked, already liking the idea of a more efficient choice. “There is also the crew component to consider.”
“I would estimate a current maximum of four a week, with full production use. Given the other things we are making, it is more likely to be two. I would suggest dropping that to one a week, with a full set of Mark2 Centrum bodies produced alongside it as crew.” Paren looked at Salem, who nodded for her to continue. “The original set of plans for the separate ships would be slower, given the need for custom parts. I am hoping to use as many of our current parts as possible for the new design to cut out the need for retooling.”
Salem took a moment to consider running stock projections, timelines, and other things through her processor to double-check her reasoning. It was mostly for show, given that Paren had, as usual, come up with a brilliant idea.
“An excellent plan, approved.”
Paren beamed and sat down.
Dar went next, running through a quick report of comm logs, no unusual traffic, and updates from the planetary bases. There really wasn’t much to say. Almost all of the comm traffic was their own, after all. His security report was similarly brief. No one did anything they shouldn’t above the normal station stuff of the occasional fights; one attempted stabbing when someone caught their partner doing something personal to someone other than them, and that was it.
“The only real news concerns the Last Chances and the stolen freighter they returned with,” Dar explained. “The internal monitoring shows that they are not planning any form of attack, at least for the moment. All their attention is focused on the stripping and rebuilding of various systems on both ships to change their energy signature, profile, and identification tags.”
“How is the work progressing?” Salem asked.
“They are working quickly, and with the remaining people in the colony aiding them, I expect the Last Chances to be completed within the month. It is mostly cosmetic changes, after all. The freighter will take at least three.” Dar reported,
“Thank you,” Salem turned to the next on her list.
The rest of the meeting was pretty much the same as the one the week before. That might have been boring to some, as Paren’s escalating fidgeting proved, but to Salem, it was soothing.
Order was always preferable.
Finally, she thanked everyone for coming and dismissed them but asked Paren to stay for a moment longer.
As soon as the others had left, Paren said, “I promise, the moss is not going to eat any more of your station.”
“Glad to hear it,” Salem noted drily, “But that isn’t why I asked you to stay.”
“Oh?” Paren looked suspicious, which managed to set Salem’s teeth on edge and make her wonder which of Paren’s schemes she had missed simultaneously.
“I wanted to thank you for the unified craft design,” Salem said. “It is great work, and it will give us a real advantage in the future.”
“Oh, wow,” Paren smiled and flushed slightly. “Thank you. I mean, you’re welcome.”
“If there are any other changes or ideas that you think will help, just let me know. You don’t have to wait for the meetings.” Salem added.
“Sure, will do,” Paren said proudly.
“Oh, and Paren?” Salem added, despite her best efforts. “Have you seen the office for the head of Research and Development?”
“There’s an actual office?” Paren asked excitedly. “Can I put stuff in it?”
“Of course,” Salem said, pleased that someone seemed excited. “I just sent you the location.”
“Wow, my own office,” Paren grinned. “I feel so grown up.”
===<<<>>>===
“Thanks, Salem.” Nellie used the comm line in the Embassy, having just received a copy of the progress report via her implant. “I love the single design idea; how’s our other task going?”
“Lucy has transferred to the Bly, as I am sure you know, and Remy, Dar, and the Mark2s have begun orbit of the volcanic planet, searching for any other areas to mine,” Salem called back. “The closer scans will enable us to plan to move the base much easier.”
“I'm Glad to hear it,” Nellie said, sitting back in the comfortable chair, one of the newest arrivals. “The Embassy is now furnished, and the new colony is getting underway. I wanted to check if you had seen the training options that I sent you.”
“I did,” Salem almost purred. “They have an absolute gold mine of skills for us to learn. Where are we going to do the actual training?”
“I want it done here, at the Embassy,” Nellie told her. “For now, I'm starting with the non-combat stuff.”
“Any reason for the wait on combat training?” Salem asked.
“Lack of trust, and I want to reassure the colonists a little,” Nellie replied. “Let them get used to teaching us about farming or hydroponics before I get Crush and his team teaching us to kill people easier.”
“So we are looking at establishing long-term contact with the colony?” Salem checked.
“That’s the hope,” Nellie nodded.
“Understood. I will avoid arguing value with them too much,” Salem said, sounding like she was smiling. “Will you be returning to the station soon?”
“Soon,” Nellie confirmed. “Probably by the end of the day.”
“See you then,” Salem called and closed the comm line.
Nellie walked out of the Embassy grounds, nodding to the Centrum units guarding the border. They weren’t ordered to stop anyone crossing, but they were a reminder to any of the nearby colonists who exactly they were trading with.
So far, things had been going well. The new colony was going up quickly—by non-nanite standards—and there had been no signs of any trouble heading their way. In order to keep the area covered while the Bly was searching the volcanic planet, she had an actual scanner installed in the radio tower, with one of the Mark2s watching the data at all times.
It was strange what a difference form made, Nellie thought as she hiked quickly toward Crush’s colony. The Mark2s, or as they were rapidly becoming known by her people, ‘the Cents,’ were literally built out of the programming from the other synthetics, yet their smaller bodies seemed to add a younger air to the creatures. They acted younger, almost like teenagers themselves. While they might have been designed by one, their code was not.
In short, it was their bodies that made the difference. More than just their bodies, their environment seemed to affect their behavior. The ones on board the Indomitable were exuberant but also very professional—just as she liked, really. Meanwhile, the ones with Banjo had definitely taken on a more ‘punk’ or ‘wild child’ attitude, just like Banjo.
Baz was running one of their other original Bly copies, the N.S.S. Legacy, and they were starting to get as sarcastic and laid-back as he was. At first, Nellie had put this down to some programming—something to make them adapt to whoever was giving the commands—but Lucy had shot that down, as had Paren.
It was not something they were programmed to do.
It was just happening.
Individual personality traits were developing in the hive-mind cores.
It was incredible.
It was amazing.
It would be nice if just one thing in her life didn’t suddenly evolve into a much more complex situation.
“Captain,” Cara called to her as Nellie approached. “We weren’t expecting you.”
“I will be heading back later today,” Nellie told her, noticing the woman was armed. “I decided to come by and check how it was going.”
“Of course, Captain,” Cara nodded and gestured for Nellie to follow her. “I will give you a quick tour if you like.”
“I see you decided to focus on the walls first,” Nellie nodded to the ring of steel sheets that were being braced against earth walls that were constantly being added to. “Probably best, at least until you learn about any local animal life.”
“It was a narrow call. People can only handle sleeping in the open for so long.” Cara nodded to the improvised tents in one sector of the circular enclosure.
“It beats a cave, trust me,” Nellie chuckled at the memory/
“I’ll happily take your word on that,” Cara smiled. “Personally, I’m looking forward to a solid roof over my head.”
“Not to mention a door you can close,” Nellie guessed.
“Or a toilet I don’t have to dig out,” Cara shook her head. “Honestly, this colonial shit is for the greedy or the idiotic.”
They passed the only completed compartment so far. A large one that housed their supplies. It was another wise choice, exactly what she was coming to expect of Crush. He didn’t suffer fools, and most people knew better than to complain to him about things no one could do anything about.
According to what she had seen, Crush’s general response to anyone bringing a problem to him was to ask them what they thought should be done about it. It was a smart strategy. If they had no good answer, Crush told them to come back with a plan to fix it. If they had a reasonable answer, the person would be sent to start doing it.
Quick, efficient, and to the point.
“Pull!” Someone yelled, and Nellie saw a group struggling to lift a tall tower into place, the base already secured on one side. The comm and scan antenna on top told her that was another essential being taken care of.
“Need a hand?” Nellie offered.
“No, we are good,” Cara said, “It’s good exercise.”
They stood and watched the tower go up, clapping and cheering with everyone else when it clanged into place.
“And that was quick,” Cara frowned. “It seems we have a comm hail from the old colony. Excuse me.” The woman hurried off.
Nellie smiled, noting that they were already thinking of Duke’s place as ‘the old colony’ despite neither of them having been there for more than a few months.
