The Dane Commission (The Dane Chronicles) (18 page)

“It sounds like you’re on a roll, go
for it, but keep in mind all the same points, and take all the same precautions
when you talk with them,” Ben said.

“Yes sir, will do.”

“Oh, and Ryan before you go, there’s
something else. Please, shut that door for a minute.” Ryan shut the door and
sat back down.

“Two things. First you need to update
Dorothy on what you are doing. I would like for you to do so after you’ve had a
chance to talk with the Sidney Facility. Confirm that they are having the same
problem, then meet with her. Get with me after that.”

“Yes sir, I understand.”

“Second, there may be a change in how
we are prioritizing our projects. Some issues have come up that are taking
precedence over everything. I can’t predict how this may affect your project,”
said Ben as he stood up. “I can’t go into any more detail right now, but
information is moving down from the top, pretty fast. I expect that everything
will be clear soon.”

Ben walked over to the window and
looked out.
“So don’t be put off, if you are assigned more work, or different work. We are
all adapting for a huge ramp-up in activity,” he said.

“Okay, thanks Ben. I’ll be ready to
help regardless.”

“Thanks Ryan, as usual, don’t hesitate
to contact me if you need anything.”

As Ryan walked back to his office, he
looked over at the programmers’ area and saw a lot of activity. Just like
yesterday.
Something was definitely up, and it showed.
He hoped his investigation wasn’t re-prioritized. He was finally getting
somewhere.

First things first though, he needed to
track down Laura’s friend at the Sydney facility. After comparing notes with
them, he needed to get with Dorothy.

It was a good morning.

Across the floor, Jim stared at the
screens above his desk.

Thor and Loki, the Norse gods of might
and mischief.

He thought the names were a perfect
fit.

He had only minutes before the
Zimmerman lab group would be here to talk with him about the setup for their
new supercomputers.
He looked at the specs again.
These would the facility’s thoroughbreds, groomed and trained for war. He had
spent last night reading up on these machines, and was more excited now than he
was yesterday. There were whole countries with less processing power than these
two could produce.

He’d made arrangements for Theresa to
call him when their group arrived. There really wasn’t much to talk about; he
already knew how to install and then set them up. He imagined that Zimmerman
wanted to make sure he knew.

While waiting for them to arrive, he
took a moment to glance at the hospital security logs, looking again for the
code fragment. The fragment was there with a timestamp of 8:01 PM.
It happened again.

Exactly one minute after he stopped
watching, just exactly as it had on his previous tests. Instantly he was
irritated.

Theresa called, “Jim, they’re here. I
put them in the second conference room.”

“Okay, thanks Theresa. I’m on my way.”

Quickly, he adjusted his script to move
the window; this time it would be 2:00 AM to 3:00 AM. If this persisted much
longer he would have no choice but to report it. There was something more than
odd happening here. Grabbing his things, he left for the conference room.

When he arrived, there were the usual
lab people he had come to expect. There were the graduate students, young and
wearing jeans. They made no decisions, asked painful questions, and generally
made these meetings harder than they needed to be.

There were the lab administrators,
older and wearing slacks and knit shirts. They asked the right questions, and
focused on the details. A good admin made the meeting flow; a bad one would sit
back and let it drag on. Then you had the actual scientists, much older wearing
white lab coats. These would generally not care about any of the details,
arrive only at the first meetings for introductions, and then leave before they
were over.

It was the administrator he wanted to
meet first, but it would be the scientist who expected it.

He walked up to the only man in a lab
coat, extended his hand like it was present and said, “Dr. Zimmerman, a
pleasure to meet you.”

The man did not rise, and only barely
shook hands. With an accent so think Jim could barely understand what he was
saying, the man introduced the figures around the table.
Sure enough, one scientist, one administrator, and three graduate students; he
nailed it.

Smiling, Jim said, “It’s good to have
you here, and it will be awesome to have your computers here.”

Zimmerman leaned back, “Und vwat is oor
nam?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I am Jim Safe, and I
will be the man that sets them up.”

Jim sat down in the middle of the
table, “And I have to tell you that from what I’ve read about these machines,
this is gong to be a lot of fun. I can’t wait to get started.”

One of the grad students spoke up,
“They are two identical models. Nashimi Bio-Ultimas with the biogel and silicon
synthesis processors. They are even faster than SID.”

‘And so it began,’ he thought, ’say
hello to the grad students.’

Jim’s personal hero, Steven Ranks,
created Sid and he wasn’t about to let that go unchallenged.

“Maybe in single operations, but SID is designed to handle multiple operations
each with high complexity, simultaneously around the planet. There is still
quite a degree of separation there.”

The worse thing you could do in a
meeting would be to let the grad student keep talking. So without pausing, Jim
continued, “So, who has questions for me regarding installation?”

On cue, the scientist stood up and left
without a word, only waving slightly in the general direction of the meeting.

The administrator began, “I have a list
of points to go over, but I’ve worked with IntelliHealth before, and I’m sure
it won’t take very long. Your facilities are the best around.”

They talked about power consumption,
location and lighting. Then they talked about the cooling system. Apparently,
the bio-silicon chips had one weakness, heat. They necessarily required their
own cooling system.
 
The hardware
required to maintain their temperature were huge, nearly as big as the
computers themselves, and they operated independently of the Nashimi machines.

Pretty crazy stuff, but Jim had no
problem assuring them it would be done to spec. Eventually, they ran out of
questions, agreed on an installation date and left to finish preparing for
their move into the building.

Jim returned to his cubicle, and sent
appropriate messages to facilities, the network guys and David, regarding
details for installation. The installation was scheduled for two weeks from
now.

David stood up and looked over the
cubicle, “Did you tell them what you named them?”

“No, not yet.”

Jim didn’t want to give them time to
think of different names. He’d tell them after it was already done. Secretly,
he gave himself a high-five.

It was the Tuesday after the faculty
meeting in the auditorium, and Jeff got to work about thirty-five minutes late.

Yesterday had been rough.
He still had not figured out whether he should tell his wife what he knew. The
emotional stress of their fertility treatments, and the failed attempts
afterward had taken their toll on both of them. For a year they had tried. The
knowledge he had now, would crush her. He didn’t know what the right answer
was, so he would keep the secret safe a little while longer.

Jeff arrived and was just getting
settled when Dr. Bender knocked on his door.
“Jeff, can I visit with you?”

“Sure, Dr. Bender come on in, or if you
prefer we can go to your office?” he said.

He thought Jeff looked terrible.
Bender sat down, and smiled.

“How are you Jeff?”

He let out a long sigh, “I’ve been
better, Leonard.”

He only called Dr. Bender by his first
name when they were alone, at times like this.

“I imagine the meeting yesterday and
the news from Dr. Frances was difficult to hear,” he said.

“Yes, yes it was,” he said, “My wife
and I have been trying for a year. Each time it failed, we went through a
mourning period. How will my wife react when she learns it was all for naught,
and will likely never happen.”

Bender never looked away, and never
flinched.

“I understand Jeff, I certainly do. But
I must ask, how many wives will feel the same, do you think?”
Jeff looked up; he was uncertain how to answer.

Bender stood up with a stern
expression, his voice rose.
”Your story will be the epitaph of our species if we don’t figure this out.
Jeff, I need you here and now. Our research is needed here and now, if we are
to survive. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Jeff was startled, but he understood
the point his friend, and mentor was making.

“Yes, I understand. You can count on
me.”

Smiling again, and in a calm voice
Bender said, “We will get through this together. Now tell me about the new
people I asked for. Are they here yet?”

Jeff confirmed that they were and took
Dr. Bender around to meet them. Bender then asked how it was going with the
other lab director.
 
“Oh, you mean Samantha Niles. Yes well, I have enjoyed most of the people you
have assigned to me. Perhaps there is a side to her which I will enjoy one day
as well,” he said. Bender laughed out loud.

Loud enough to make a grad student
jump, and drop his notebook.

That afternoon, Ryan sat at his desk
looking at the personnel directory for the Sydney facility. Following his tip
from Laura Stems in London, he looked for someone named, ‘Sarah Warren’. Mrs.
Warren, it turned out was the Floor Master of one of the hospital treatment
floors. He found her number, and made the call.

Another administrator answered the
phone, and asked who he was, and with whom he wished to speak. He explained
where he was calling from, and that he would very much like to speak with Mrs.
Warren.

Moments later, a very friendly face
appeared, talking up a storm, but there was no sound. Ryan began stabbing at
the buttons on his televid. When she realized something was wrong she began
pushing buttons on her end, too.

Quickly he wrote a note on a post-it,
and held it to the camera.

It read, ‘I’ll call you on my personal
phone, hold on.’

He pulled his phone out, dialed the
number and said, “Hello” when she answered.

She said, “I do apologize, it seems we
are having some sort of technical difficulties at the moment.”

“No problem, I can still see you on the
televid, and hear you on my phone.”

“Wonderful, wonderful. Now Mr. Dane,
why are we speaking?” she said.

Anticipating another success, Ryan had
to slow himself down and start at the beginning again. He was still very
sensitive to Mr. James’ concerns, and tried to remain as diplomatic as he
could.

He explained that he had been hired to
look at discrepancies in treatments prescribed and treatments received. He
described the steps he’d taken, and the tests they had tried. Finally, he
arrived at the point in the story where he had contacted Laura Stems in London,
and that it was Laura who had suggested he contact her. Nodding occasionally,
Sarah listened carefully; he could see her taking notes from time to time.

“Ryan, may I put you on hold for a
moment please?”

The screen went black with the company
logo floating in the middle.