Projecting Confidence - 14/Jul/2012
He'd mugged the HR man who'd stole his job. Well. More questioned him closely. 'Bob' by name. Quite a nice chap. And, Arthur'd never really wanted to run a recruitment agency.
There was a whole industry to do with recruitment and evaluation that Arthur had only touched on peripherally. Most of it with little scientific basis, Bob told him cheerfully. Only way of finding out, for sure, if someone could or couldn't do a job was to actually have them try and do it. And, that wasn't certain, as, for example, their dog might have died that week.
So, no real help there.
Arthur couldn't even figure-out how to think about the problem, properly. He couldn't ask Ms Jones what the hidden brief was - he didn't think there was one.
O'Neill Station was effectively a complete world. You could rely on a planet to keep on doing much the same thing, with the addition of fun like storms, or the odd earthquake. Someone had to do all that on a space habitat, actively, and if they forgot or made a mistake, everyone could die.
On the station they were currently doing it piecemeal. They had people assigned to various tasks, areas of responsibility, but no one, except maybe Black Team, looked for the gaps. And, there was just Kelly looking at the overall picture. Did she even have time to plan for contingencies? Was anyone running disaster drills?
Arthur'd tried to patch that. Provide AIs to run the infrastructure, so there was someone watching out, 24/7. But, that wasn't planning, that was disaster management. You needed to see the problems coming, not just react to them.
It was an engineering problem that included human elements. Human expectations. Human instincts and reflexes that suited a planet with an atmosphere, under 1G. It was a bit like a combination of a sea-going vessel and a sky scraper. You needed to think everything through. Opening a door could kill. And, you needed to bring all the resources to you.
Handwavium made space a more friendly place to live. It seemed particularly forgiving when it came to life support systems. But, that only took you so far.
Hmm. Kevin Wright owed him one after that article. The least he could have done was consult him before submitting it. How about...
---
"Charlie?", said Kelly, when the older man introduced himself. "Sorry. It's 'Kevin'. 'Kevin Wright'." He smiled. "'Charlie' is my older brother. Lives in Canada. Not seen him for years."
"So. I understand I'm to call you 'Kelly'. All very mysterious. And, you need advice on engineering. I'm not an engineer, but I've got a lot of them started in business. What sort of engineering are you interested in?"
Kelly looked at 'Kevin'. He sounded a bit like Charlie, but the accent wasn't quite right. And Charlie didn't have that very faint slur, she could just catch on a few words. Still, she needed to be careful what she said to him.
"I'm very interested in going into space. Environmental engineering. Also, mechanical engineering, electronics, cybernetics, systems theory, the lot." She could name them, but that was as far as it got. She understood all the theory. But, once she started on the practical side, Steam Punk crowded it all out. How could she get help without explaining that?
"A major syllabus. Do you have a sponsor? Or, do you plan to go it alone?"
"I have a... focus problem. I can start to study, then my mind goes off in other directions. I'm OK with the theory, it's the practical side, the nuts and bolts." She finished in a rush "I'm just not explaining this well".
The old man looked at her. She'd seen his nurse. Gave her a nasty look, when he couldn't see. Something off about her. Dangerous. That's it! She reminded her of the station AI remotes. That's where she'd seen her before. She was the AI remote that 'Arthur' made when he tricked his way on-board. Why was an AI looking after this old man? Was he someone important to the case?
"So. It's a concentration problem. Have you tried relaxation techniques? Self-hypnosis even?"
Now she thought of it, that sounded like something she knew as part of her martial arts. Relaxed concentration. Finding a balance point that allowed instant action without thought getting in the way. Attacking the problem with the correct tools.
She looked at the old man. He was sitting back, looking smug. As if he'd done something. All they'd done was talk. She hoped they weren't paying him too much. All he did was sit there and project confidence.
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind
He'd mugged the HR man who'd stole his job. Well. More questioned him closely. 'Bob' by name. Quite a nice chap. And, Arthur'd never really wanted to run a recruitment agency.
There was a whole industry to do with recruitment and evaluation that Arthur had only touched on peripherally. Most of it with little scientific basis, Bob told him cheerfully. Only way of finding out, for sure, if someone could or couldn't do a job was to actually have them try and do it. And, that wasn't certain, as, for example, their dog might have died that week.
So, no real help there.
Arthur couldn't even figure-out how to think about the problem, properly. He couldn't ask Ms Jones what the hidden brief was - he didn't think there was one.
O'Neill Station was effectively a complete world. You could rely on a planet to keep on doing much the same thing, with the addition of fun like storms, or the odd earthquake. Someone had to do all that on a space habitat, actively, and if they forgot or made a mistake, everyone could die.
On the station they were currently doing it piecemeal. They had people assigned to various tasks, areas of responsibility, but no one, except maybe Black Team, looked for the gaps. And, there was just Kelly looking at the overall picture. Did she even have time to plan for contingencies? Was anyone running disaster drills?
Arthur'd tried to patch that. Provide AIs to run the infrastructure, so there was someone watching out, 24/7. But, that wasn't planning, that was disaster management. You needed to see the problems coming, not just react to them.
It was an engineering problem that included human elements. Human expectations. Human instincts and reflexes that suited a planet with an atmosphere, under 1G. It was a bit like a combination of a sea-going vessel and a sky scraper. You needed to think everything through. Opening a door could kill. And, you needed to bring all the resources to you.
Handwavium made space a more friendly place to live. It seemed particularly forgiving when it came to life support systems. But, that only took you so far.
Hmm. Kevin Wright owed him one after that article. The least he could have done was consult him before submitting it. How about...
---
"Charlie?", said Kelly, when the older man introduced himself. "Sorry. It's 'Kevin'. 'Kevin Wright'." He smiled. "'Charlie' is my older brother. Lives in Canada. Not seen him for years."
"So. I understand I'm to call you 'Kelly'. All very mysterious. And, you need advice on engineering. I'm not an engineer, but I've got a lot of them started in business. What sort of engineering are you interested in?"
Kelly looked at 'Kevin'. He sounded a bit like Charlie, but the accent wasn't quite right. And Charlie didn't have that very faint slur, she could just catch on a few words. Still, she needed to be careful what she said to him.
"I'm very interested in going into space. Environmental engineering. Also, mechanical engineering, electronics, cybernetics, systems theory, the lot." She could name them, but that was as far as it got. She understood all the theory. But, once she started on the practical side, Steam Punk crowded it all out. How could she get help without explaining that?
"A major syllabus. Do you have a sponsor? Or, do you plan to go it alone?"
"I have a... focus problem. I can start to study, then my mind goes off in other directions. I'm OK with the theory, it's the practical side, the nuts and bolts." She finished in a rush "I'm just not explaining this well".
The old man looked at her. She'd seen his nurse. Gave her a nasty look, when he couldn't see. Something off about her. Dangerous. That's it! She reminded her of the station AI remotes. That's where she'd seen her before. She was the AI remote that 'Arthur' made when he tricked his way on-board. Why was an AI looking after this old man? Was he someone important to the case?
"So. It's a concentration problem. Have you tried relaxation techniques? Self-hypnosis even?"
Now she thought of it, that sounded like something she knew as part of her martial arts. Relaxed concentration. Finding a balance point that allowed instant action without thought getting in the way. Attacking the problem with the correct tools.
She looked at the old man. He was sitting back, looking smug. As if he'd done something. All they'd done was talk. She hoped they weren't paying him too much. All he did was sit there and project confidence.
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind