Horizon Storms

Horizon Storms

By Kevin J. Anderson

Chief Scientist Howard Palawu

In Earth`s largest factory the compy production line hissed und burled with molten alloys and sprayed solvents. The smell of hot metal and caustic chemicals filled the air. The din og large-scale fabrication, with the whirring machinery and the clang of shaped components, was deafening.

Howard Palawu, the Hansa's Chief Scientist, took comfort from the sights and sounds of an efficient plant operation at full capacity. Smiling, he called up quota numbers on a handheld electronic pad and studied delivery records, projections, and profits. He turned to the tall Swede next to him. "We'll be ten percent higher than the last month, Lars. Fewer errors, faster throughput. More Soldier compies for the EDF."

Lars Rurik Swendsen, the lead Engineering Specialist, stood beside the shorter man, showing a lot of teeth in his broad grin. "The Factory's running like a well-oiled machine, Howard."

"It is a well-oiled machine."

"I can't wait until the new fabrication wing comes online in two weeks. How are you going to spend your bonus?"

Palawu shrugged; he had never much cared about his salary or his rewards. "I still haven't figured out what to do with the last one."

The dark-skinned scientists had broad shoulders and a stomach that wasn't quite as flat as he thought it was. He kept his graying hair cropped extremely close to his scalp. Palawu Had two grown children and had lost his wife a decade earlier in a medical accident during what should have been an ordinary procedure. Since then, the Chief Scientist had devoted himself to his work for Hansa and King. It kept him busy.

A bird which is free. Illustration by Elena.

"The more we milk that Klikiss robotic technology, the more tweaks we can make to the production line," he said. Two years earlier, he and Swendson had been chosen to supervise the complex dissection and dismantling operations of the Kikiss robot Jorax. The breakthrough they had made by copying the alien system had been a giant boon to Hansa technology. Motivational modules and programming routines were scanned, duplicated, and transferred wholesale into resilient Soldier-model compies, which and already been put to good use in the Earth Defense Forces.

The two men walked down the line, watching the identical Soldier compies being assembled step-by-step, each one exactly according to spécifications. The new-model compies were perfect warriors, sophisticated battle machines sure to be the key to defeating the hydrogues.

"I got a report from the shipyards this morning, Howard," Swenden said. "They're already in production with sixty heavily armored rammer ship, according to the Chairman's new plan. They seem to be a week ahead of schedule."

"That's just on paper. The rammers won't be ready for months. We've got plenty of time to manufacture a compy crew for them... even though I hate to see such beautiful machines destroyed in a suicide mission." Palawu watched as another armor-plated Soldier glided by on the assembly plat. "But they were designed to be expendable, I suppose."

A well-dressed man with blond hair came up to the two senior production leaders. Wearing a business suit and a bland expression, the man looked out of place on the Noisy, dirty fabrication line. He didn't even seem interested in the new compies coming off the assembly belts. "Chief Scientist Palawu? Engineering Specialist Swendsen? Come with me, please."

Palawu recognized the self-proclaimed "special assistant" to Chairman Wenceslas who had tried to stop King Peter from ordering a shutdown of the factory because of his concerns about the Klikiss technology. That had been a nerve-racking time, but everything was back on Schedule now.

"Where are we going?" Swendson asked.

"Chairman Wenceslas wishes to see you in his office."

Palawu stood next to his tall colleague, wondering which of them was more nervous. Previously, whenever they'd been spoken to by the Chairman, it had been part of a large board meeting; now they waited alone in the empty room.

A Quite Friendly-model compy strutted like a Wind-up toy, carrying a tray with a pot of strong-smelling cardamom coffee. Palawu preferred tea, but apparently they wouldn't be given a choice. He and Swendson each took one of the proffered cups while the compy set the third on the Chariman's immaculately clean desk. Palawu took a polite sip, looked at his friend. They both waited.

A Horizon Storm. Illustration by Elena.