Trade World Saga 1: Manual Interpretation (6 page)

"Okay. I guess," she said to herself as he was out of earshot anyway and she looked down at the ball in her hands. This had better be good. She realized Andrew was supposed to be a pretty sharp candidate for synthesist manager but so far he hadn't produced much...though he was kind of cute. She wasn't sure if he went off the deep end or not. She'd reserve judgment.

"What little puzzle are you here?" she said quietly as she looked at the sphere. "You aren't going to be a total mystery to me by the meeting tonight are you?" she said just as another student happened past, looking at her as if she were crazy. She walked briskly off to her lab.

Andrew had no sooner gotten back to his room and briefly reexamined the alien belt when he got a call.

"Hello," Andrew answered as he tapped the display to accept.

"Hey. Andrew. I heard you were back and wanted to meet tonight. Where have you been? Susan was really cryptic when I tried to pump her for information."

"Steve?" Nobody else would be so inconsiderate. "Look, I'm tired, I'll tell you everything at the meeting tonight," Andrew answered wearily.

"Can't you give me a little hint?" Steve asked.

"I'll tell you tonight. Goodbye," Andrew said.

"Okay. But just..."

Andrew cut him off in mid-sentence and headed toward the bed. He undressed, and slid under the sheets with the sunlight all but shut off in the window. He was fast asleep in minutes.

When Andrew got to the seminar room he noticed everyone was already there, waiting for him. He looked around and made a second mental note of all attending, as was his duty as synthesist.

Susan, the materials science specialist… Pretty when she smiled with a fit body and tons of smarts. Probably the best well rounded of the group, save me…A whiz at everything…Fun to be around…Cute…Cute.

Steve, the computer specialist… Little smart ass, Andrew thought as he looked over the little dark haired dweb...but there wasn't anyone better in the field…crackerjack at anything electronic…dresses like a ‘dweb’ too.

John, the chemical specialist… drab looking guy. Mister Invisible. You'd never know he was there until you needed something profound reasoned out… Witty guy… Always comes out with one-liners that get you smiling ten minutes later after you thought about what he had said.

Ling, the biologist and psychologist…fine, chiseled oriental features with an Occidental mouth that slipped in from somewhere in her family tree. No figure and her taste in clothes exhibited 20th century refugee prints but she knew her field.

Fran, the environmental specialist…little bit on the dumpy side but she could make orchards grow out of rock and knew environmental systems. She would help us be sought after by all the big industrials when she finished her schooling. She knew everything about “going Green.”

Tod, the physicist…looks like a football player but deep…Pretty good in a machine shop too…Probably the smartest of the group…sharper than me but then I only decide which way to drive.

Desiree, the mathematician and linguist…God…What a looker! Andrew sighed deeply. Grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, as they say; but didn't seem to be spoiled by her rich upbringing. She had looks and brains.

Joel, the mechanical specialist…could make chicken salad out of proverbial ...well, anyway...he could turn an idea into reality…Knows his engineering but looks like a wrestler -- except one with deft, strong hands.

All these people had various overlapping or complimentary specialties, but each had been chosen to fit into an integrated group with a synthesist manager in charge. If the defense of their group proposals were accepted, then all members of the group would get a synthesist degree, similar and equivalent to PhDs but universities were different than years ago. Now universities provided the equipment, experience, and atmosphere for experimentation and, of course, each university was known for the reputation of the experts the student groups could consult. A breakthrough from the military in the early decades of the century had revolutionized the learning process.

Direct stimulation learning programs were now used in preparatory, middle and high schools and provided the information foundation for college. This technique for learning was a combination of direct simulation and high power drugs provided early basic skills in math and science. Levels of sophistication varied by price and the privileged and the talented were able to access the best information sources. Quantifiable formulas and scientific theories were more easily taught but were history and literature. Anything that required memorization was a candidate for canned learning. Students tested as well or better than conventional “schooling” in long-term memory recall though many debated the quality of memorization through this method. Programmed learning had replaced almost all learning by rote for the upper quartile students. Teachers helped students integrate their implanted knowledge.

Legacy cycle learning, where students solved problems based on scenarios, was the teaching method du jour. Scenarios would be expanded to draw students into considering real world issues or points to research so they could discover their own answers and then apply them to other situations. Students had already acquired the basic knowledge base in their fields of interest before being accepted into college. Students a century past spent their secondary schooling and undergraduate years learning facts and methods by rote and then trying to apply the theories only after they entered graduate school. University groups, now, were picked to work productively as units such as the one Andrew was about to address. The University of Arizona, here, had become renown for turning out producers...real problem solvers...creative brains for hire…with a synthesist degree and minors in their specialty.

All this flashed through Andrew's consciousness as he looked at the anxious faces around him.

"I want you to take a chance on me, on us, for a team topic defense. Success will mean more success than you can imagine. We had come up with several avenues to explore but this is unlike any of those. I'm asking you to scrap all the ideas we had discussed and, instead, head in an entirely new direction," Andrew stated somberly. "We have a chance to use what this facility has given us to make our futures -- to make the world a better place” -- everybody winced at that trite sounding phrase but he continued,” at least, to add some excitement to this place." Andrew wished he hadn’t seen so much skepticism on some of the faces.

"First, I want Susan to make a preliminary report on the assignment I asked her to do earlier this afternoon," Andrew said turning to Susan.

Her head snapped toward him. "You didn't say anything about an assignment... ...you..." I guess he understood me better than I thought. It was a kind of assignment. She grinned. You sneak.

"What have you two been cooking up?" Steve asked looking from Susan to Andrew. Is she the reason you missed the seminar? He wondered.

"Well... John, “she looked at him. ”I'm sorry. I used some of your equipment," Susan said demurely, a little of her enthusiasm spilling out.

"I have here a water container close to twelve (12) centimeters in diameter. It does have water in it but the water has trace amounts of sodium chloride, iodine, and several insoluble organic compounds in it. The container is a type of thin metal, though I thought it was a plastic at first. First, it's not like any metal I've known. It doesn't oxidize with anything but the strongest agents and its hardness is similar to titanium, though I can't find any trace of titanium. The crystalline structure is different from anything I've ever seen. You look at it Tod, before I say any more," Susan said as she tossed it to Tod.

Tod said, "Well, it's a rather crude manufactured product. Probably was injection molded like plastic, but I'd need to know the powdered metal properties before I could say for sure." He held it up in the light to see it better.

"Is this our project? Did you get us together so we can design new canteens? I'll really be useful in designing water containers," Steve said in an exasperated tone.

"No, I've got something for everyone here," Andrew said as he took the alien belt out of a box he had brought with him and placed it on the conference table before them all.

"What is that supposed to be? We are starting a repair service for music players for fat joggers?" Steve cried looking at the length of the belt. If this project doesn't pan out we'll all be lucky to get jobs skimming algae at a solar farm somewhere, he thought.

Andrew knew he had their attention now, even during their protestations. The belt was unusual in an odd way that they couldn't quite pin down. Andrew waited very quietly, "This is the key to a new type of power source...maybe even unlimited power supplies." Andrew let his statement hit them and the silence was absolute about him.

"It can be all of that and more if we can unravel it without killing ourselves in the process. I pretty well know the state of the art in most of those areas, since that's my job and I think we're about as well equipped as anyone else to tackle it. Think this is a good enough for our proposal defense?" Andrew asked.

"Where did you come by these little advances in science?" John asked quietly.

"I can only say that this will be a good test as to how competent we are and I will explain further when I can," Andrew explained as he saw their dubious expressions. "No person will miss these."

There was a brief period of silence while everyone looked around to see if they were sane and really there and then, the tumult of questions really began the serious discussion for the night.

***Rett in deep space***

Rett snapped to full consciousness to the clamor of the proximity alarm.

What is this? He thought as he shut off the alarm. His vehicle gave a lurch and he became dizzy at the same moment. Looking out the port he saw the hazy end of a great ship. Yes, it was an Exploration Service ship ...but what was it doing here? Why have they stopped my ship? How did they dare? He was a Tros. He was moving toward the communicator when the floor gave another lurch and the gravity orientation changed and he was tumbled to the deck.

Rett heard the clang of metal before he realized that the bright light now coming through the portal was artificial and he was now inside the great ship. As he stood there absorbing this revelation, he heard a loud pounding coming from the entranceway.

It took all his discipline to calmly open the entranceway. A group was awaiting him when he opened the hatch. All were bipeds but only two were Tros.

Addressing the Tros, he said in
Trade
, "By what authority did you stop my vessel?"

The leader of the group, obviously not a Tros, answered abruptly, "You are in an area under control of the Exploration Service. Our ship is stronger and we need no other reason. You are in an area that is interdicted in a vessel of unauthorized design."

"But I've done nothing and you interrupted my journey. Why did you stop my vessel?"

"What was your purpose in this area?" The leader asked.

"Why did you stop my vessel?" Rett asked equally defiant.

"What was your purpose in this area?" The leader asked flatly.

When Rett did not reply, one of the others in the group walked up and touched a control rod to Rett's shoulder and he was immediately shocked senseless and carried out the entrance and into a room aboard the Exploration Service ship.

Rett regained full consciousness to find himself strapped down to a table with wires attached to his head, arms, chest, and legs. Swiveling one eye to the side he saw another non-Tros seated before a complicated instrument display. Even in the position he was in, he felt relieved to see a fellow-being and not just some lowly other race. Only when he heard the question did he realize that the humanoid-leader of the group was beside him also and asking him a question.

"Why were you in this area?" The leader asked.

When Rett did not answer, the questioner nodded to the Tros behind the console and Rett was wracked with indescribable agony. As he lay gasping, he heard the question again.

"Why were you in this area?"

When Rett paused to answer, a mild jolt shuddered through him again and he answered, "I was just trying out a solo craft my colleagues and I built."

"Why did you go to this particular system?"

"It was just a convenient point," Rett said, barely getting the answer out before a jolt hit him.

"Why, this particular system?"

Anticipating another jolt, Rett's voice was shaky as he answered, "I was told that this system was very interesting since it had so many electromagnetic emanations coming from it. I was not aware it was under control of the Service." Rett fully expected another jolt after his answer but it didn't come.

"Did you meet any of the natives?" the being asked.

"No," Rett replied and was hit by the strongest jolt yet. When he returned to full consciousness, he was prepared for another jolt which didn't come. How did this being know, he was lying? The artifacts! Of course, he knew. Rett anticipated the reply and said, "Yes, I had contact with one native."

Rett was pounded with another small series of jolts.

"Only one native?"

"Yes," Rett answered and was jolted again.