Defective Work - 12/Jul/2012
Arthur didn't understand. One of his AIs had failed. Up on O'Neill Station. They said it was defective. He'd messed-up the design.
They were threatening him with massive damages. His incompetence was risking basic infrastructure. The repair bill could be immense.
The message had come in last thing in the day. He stayed late, sending requests for more details, confirmation. Nothing. That night, he hadn't slept much. He'd read all the Asimov he'd been loaned. 'The Three Laws' wouldn't work, of course, but at least they were a start.
His secretary, Miss Lidzt, was in before him. She was an ex-glamour addict, returned from O'Neill Station. She'd worked there in a similar role, but the homesickness got too bad, so she broke her contact and came back to Dublin. A good chunk of her pay went to pay-off the loan she'd needed so as to leave before her contract renewal date. Arthur considered employing her a bit of a gesture of defiance.
The office was new, too. The repair side of the business had expanded, and he was called in to fix things it was claimed were irreparable. And, that wasn't just restricted to electronics. Several times he'd had to turn-down requests, saying that was outside his field. He seemed to have got a reputation for safe use of handwavium. How?
Arthur had developed a a suite of waved tools. Some analytic, some manipulative, some a mixture. All were 'clean', and didn't contaminate with handwavium. He guessed he was a 'Wave Consultant'.
He'd asked his aunt, seeing as she always seemed to know things, or knew someone who did. "You didn't see the article, dear? 'Waving The Future'? Came out a few months ago. I'll see if I can find my clipping." And, she had. It was very flattering, if a bit inaccurate.
He wasn't really a 'medical researcher', he hadn't said 'careful use of handwavium can fix any problem', or 'used carefully handwavium is no more dangerous than gas'. Wait a minute. You could read 'gas' as either methane or gasoline. This smelled a bit too much of the 'Wright Stuff'.
He'd never contacted Kevin Wright. He'd been too busy. Now he had another reason. "OK. Calm down, Arthur. Analyse the situation. Who sent the message?" That's what he liked about Kevin. Straight to the point.
He hadn't checked that. 'Admin & Legal Departments' it said. Wouldn't that be Jane, and Sarah? Maybe they'd found him out!
"Now, Arthur." The voice was friendly but firm. He'd fully recovered, that way, at least, from his stroke. Nurse Blake sent him regular updates. "Ask yourself, what do they want? How do they expect you to react?"
Kevin waited while he thought. Yes, he'd rather panicked. Assumed it was all his fault. They'd be able to tell that by the replies he sent. The questions he asked. Why hadn't they replied? He asked Kevin that.
"Well, maybe they wanted to shake you up? Get you in the right frame of mind for something? You've become independent. You don't jump when they say 'frog'. Think like a detective, but better than the ones in all those cheap books you used to read."
OK. He had a road map. Go up there. Refuse to sign anything. Until he knew exactly what happened. Solve the case. If he never worked for O'Neill again, he could live with that. But, he owed them, if he could fix what was wrong.
"Thanks, Kevin. I'll try and prove I'm still the 'Wright Stuff'."
"Now, before I go, about this article..."
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind
Arthur didn't understand. One of his AIs had failed. Up on O'Neill Station. They said it was defective. He'd messed-up the design.
They were threatening him with massive damages. His incompetence was risking basic infrastructure. The repair bill could be immense.
The message had come in last thing in the day. He stayed late, sending requests for more details, confirmation. Nothing. That night, he hadn't slept much. He'd read all the Asimov he'd been loaned. 'The Three Laws' wouldn't work, of course, but at least they were a start.
His secretary, Miss Lidzt, was in before him. She was an ex-glamour addict, returned from O'Neill Station. She'd worked there in a similar role, but the homesickness got too bad, so she broke her contact and came back to Dublin. A good chunk of her pay went to pay-off the loan she'd needed so as to leave before her contract renewal date. Arthur considered employing her a bit of a gesture of defiance.
The office was new, too. The repair side of the business had expanded, and he was called in to fix things it was claimed were irreparable. And, that wasn't just restricted to electronics. Several times he'd had to turn-down requests, saying that was outside his field. He seemed to have got a reputation for safe use of handwavium. How?
Arthur had developed a a suite of waved tools. Some analytic, some manipulative, some a mixture. All were 'clean', and didn't contaminate with handwavium. He guessed he was a 'Wave Consultant'.
He'd asked his aunt, seeing as she always seemed to know things, or knew someone who did. "You didn't see the article, dear? 'Waving The Future'? Came out a few months ago. I'll see if I can find my clipping." And, she had. It was very flattering, if a bit inaccurate.
He wasn't really a 'medical researcher', he hadn't said 'careful use of handwavium can fix any problem', or 'used carefully handwavium is no more dangerous than gas'. Wait a minute. You could read 'gas' as either methane or gasoline. This smelled a bit too much of the 'Wright Stuff'.
He'd never contacted Kevin Wright. He'd been too busy. Now he had another reason. "OK. Calm down, Arthur. Analyse the situation. Who sent the message?" That's what he liked about Kevin. Straight to the point.
He hadn't checked that. 'Admin & Legal Departments' it said. Wouldn't that be Jane, and Sarah? Maybe they'd found him out!
"Now, Arthur." The voice was friendly but firm. He'd fully recovered, that way, at least, from his stroke. Nurse Blake sent him regular updates. "Ask yourself, what do they want? How do they expect you to react?"
Kevin waited while he thought. Yes, he'd rather panicked. Assumed it was all his fault. They'd be able to tell that by the replies he sent. The questions he asked. Why hadn't they replied? He asked Kevin that.
"Well, maybe they wanted to shake you up? Get you in the right frame of mind for something? You've become independent. You don't jump when they say 'frog'. Think like a detective, but better than the ones in all those cheap books you used to read."
OK. He had a road map. Go up there. Refuse to sign anything. Until he knew exactly what happened. Solve the case. If he never worked for O'Neill again, he could live with that. But, he owed them, if he could fix what was wrong.
"Thanks, Kevin. I'll try and prove I'm still the 'Wright Stuff'."
"Now, before I go, about this article..."
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind