Orders of Magnitude (The Genie and the Engineer Series Book 2) (31 page)

“Right…and?”

“And, it was my thinking, before Transylvania,” Capie
continued on, still looking at her mixed smoothie glass, “that by stopping
those acts of terrorism not only would we save lives but we would stop the war
too. And that our success in Rio de Janeiro proved that my assumption was correct.”

Paul studied his wife’s body language and the expressions on
her face, and rapidly reached a conclusion of his own: that Capie had undergone
a change of opinion of some sort. “But you don’t think so now, do you? Not
after Transylvania.”

“No, I don’t,” was her candid reply. “Not now. Just
yesterday, I was thinking that my approach was still the correct one, but that
it only lacked power, as in the use of a super-talisman to make it work. I was
thinking that if we finished making the super-talisman, then I could go back to
the Middle East, stop the killing and, at the same time, stop the war. That is,
after all, more or less what you are planning to do, right?”

More squirming in his chair. “Yes, more or less, but that’s
only part of it. I—”

Capie held up a hand to stop him. “As I was saying, that’s
what I was thinking yesterday. But today I have come to the realization that
the creation of the super-talisman will alert and alarm all of
Errabêlu
that we have grown to be a huge threat to them. So, stopping the war in the
Middle East with a super-talisman would not be a final solution, would it? That
just opens the door on Fibber McGee’s closet, does it not? And that’s why we
have to have the
Sirius Effort
ready to go at that point, to get out of
range of their backlash.”

Paul nodded, suddenly thoughtful and curious as to where
Capie was going with this conversation. “So, you now agree with that? You
aren’t going to be making any more trips to the Middle East?”

His wife glanced up, locking gazes with him and sighed.
“Yes, I agree with you and no, no trips anywhere for now. Your plan is the only
one that makes sense, on a long term basis. But we must hurry, Paul. People are
dying, a war is coming and soon now. So, I would like to concentrate on the
super-talisman, the conversion of the isotopes, on a full-time basis, with all
due speed. You need to finish the ship as fast as you can, and concentrate only
on that.”

For several seconds, Paul was deep in thought before he
shook his head. “You will get done with the isotope conversion first. The
construction of the
Sirius Effort
will take me longer. Plus, there is
still the issue of Daneel and his magic powers. We need to solve that one too.”

“Ah, um, as long as we are talking about me, I have
something to say about that,” voiced Daneel. His image was dressed in an
off-white safari outfit complete with a canvas hat and knee length pants,
reclining in a patio chair perched near the edge of a swimming pool with
crystal clear blue water. “If Dad can provide the error codes to me that he saw
on the screen when my other self died, I can investigate them and find a
solution. Dad, that will leave you free to work on the ship at least until I
can figure out what happened and how to prevent it in the future.”

“Good idea,” Capie agreed, smiling at Daneel before turning
to Paul.

Who grudgingly nodded. “It’s still going to take me longer,”
he reluctantly admitted.

“You’re a clever engineer,” Capie reminded him sweetly.
“You’ll figure it out.”

Paul sighed. “Gee. Thanks. I suppose I could change my
instrumentation plans. Instead of a full set of flight instruments and radar
systems, I could just use magical spells instead. That will shave a week or so
off the schedule. Speaking purely as an electrical engineer though, it goes
against the grain.”

“Fine. Oh, as long as we are discussing the Master Plan, I
have some reservations with it that I would like to talk about now,” Capie
announced with greater cheer.

“Like going to Mars?” Paul asked sourly.

“No, not like that,” she said, with a shake of her head and
a chuckle. “Not anymore, anyway. It’s obvious that we have to go to Mars, no
option there. But my first concern is more along the lines of a safety factor.”

“Ah, what?” Paul asked, startled. “The ship will be safe! I
stake my life on that!”

“Funny man! And my life too!” she pointed out with a pinched
expression. “I’m just saying that we need more of a safety plan, in case of an
emergency. In case we get struck by a meteor, attacked by a space monster, run
out of fuel or whatever.”

“A space monster!” muttered Paul as he rolled his eyes.
“Straight out of
Lost in Space
!?”

“I liked that show!” Capie protested. “‘Danger, Will
Robinson!’ It was so campy!”

“Right.” Paul thought for a few seconds. “I can contact
Jaret through the Raconteur crystal and we can probably set something up. A
backup plan in case we are stranded in space or on Mars. Okay?”

“Now, my next concern—”

“What? There’s more?!”

“I have a short list,” insisted Capie, affecting an innocent
air while nonchalantly studying a nearby tree. “I will need something
significant to do while we are on Mars for six months,” she declared, folding
her arms over her chest.

Her husband blinked several times and frowned. “Honey, we
will be covered up with work the whole time—”

“Unh-uh! No way!
You’ll
be busy, like here in
Australia. Name one thing that I will be doing!”

“Well, uh. Yes, you will be helping Daneel and myself to
nursemaid the new generations of Scotties. That will keep us all busy!”

“Not really,” Capie argued in return. “The first thing you
need to do, right after you solve the Scottie issue, is to duplicate Daneel. Do
that even before we leave for Mars. You have spare sets of hardware to create a
couple of copies. The new Daneels can then do most of the grunt work on Mars,
including the majority of the nursemaiding of the new Scotties. They can use
some of the Oni talismans too.”

Paul’s chin dropped in surprise, the classic deer in the
headlights look. “I, uh, ah—”

“Didn’t think of that, huh?” Capie grinned wickedly.

“I’ve, uh, been busy,” he protested. “But that is a good
idea.” He paused, deeper in thought and then smiled playfully. “For you, I, uh,
was intending to bring along a complete collection of Hallmark movies and a six
month supply of chocolate…you know, to make the stay on Mars more pleasant.”

She smiled patiently. “That’s nice, dear. Very thoughtful of
you. But that’s not what I had in mind and you know it.”

He sighed and smiled sadly in capitulation. “No, I suppose
not. Very well. Let’s get a little super-intelligence assistance here. Uncle
Sam?”

The image of the tall older statesman appeared, wearing the
odd top hat.

Paul teasingly nodded at Capie. “Get Tia here too, please.”

Capie frowned but cast the spell, calling forth the image of
the Queen of the Fairies.

From his spot on a side table, the image of Daneel on the
quantum computer monitor pulled up his poolside chair and sat on the edge,
leaning forward. “Ooh, this is going to be good!”

“Uncle Sam,” Paul said in a droll fashion, rubbing his hands
together. “and Tia. We need some help resolving an issue here. Capie wants
something useful to do while on Mars. Any suggestions?”

Capie winced and opened her mouth to say something but Tia
put a hand on her shoulder. “Rest easy, my dear. Trust in me, please.”

Ill at ease, Capie rubbed her arm gently but she relented,
nodding.

Uncle Sam bowed his head at Tia. “From a strategic point of
view, a very interesting question, would you not agree, Tia?”

“Very,” the fairy purred in response.

“Paul,” Uncle Sam said, turning back to him. “Are you still
interested in helping people? It is, after all, the reason you became a wizard,
was it not?”

“Yes, of course it was,” Paul replied, puzzled by the
question.

“Which is why you are dedicated to freeing the people of
Earth,” Tia commented coolly.

“But there are more ways to help people than what you are
doing,” Uncle Sam pointed out.

“I’m sure that there are,” Paul admitted, looking back and
forth between the two holograms.

“Paul, they are going somewhere with this,” Capie noted with
growing interest.

“I knew that this was going to be good!” Daneel stated with
conviction. “Can’t wait for the punch line.”

Uncle Sam took his hat off and tucked it under one arm. “A
lot of people on Earth die each year, Paul, Capie. Sixty million a year, give
or take a few hundred thousand. And war and acts of terrorism are not the
primary causes of death, not even close.”

Tia waved a hand and a display appeared in mid air, just
past the railing of the balcony. On it, a parade of images appeared, one right
after another. Hospital rooms with patients lying in beds, hooked up to
machines. Surgical rooms, teams of surgeons at work. Then images of children
with missing limbs, stomachs distended by malnutrition. More children, some
mentally handicapped, some struggling to walk, to eat, even to talk.

The images switched back to adults, some crippled, some in
wheel chairs, some old and wheezing pitifully as they trudged through deep
snow. Others, from strokes, paralyzed on one side, shuffling along on crutches.

“The leading causes of death are heart disease, lung
disease, infectious diseases of all types and then the cancers, also of various
types. War is far down the list. Pain and suffering, a racial burden nearly
universal in its extent.”

Capie’s eyes were big, bright and moist.

Uncle Sam turned to Tia. “You know her heart best. Is she up
to this challenge?”

The Queen of the Fairies smiled mirthfully. “She is.” Then
the holograph turned to Capie. “You want something useful to do, my dear? While
Paul is freeing mankind from slavery to evil wizards, your powers can help free
mankind from sickness, injuries, pain and other types of physical suffering.”

Capie gulped, her mouth dropping open. “How?! What you’re
suggesting…”

“Is beyond the scope of what a Normal can do, true,”
acknowledged Uncle Sam with a small nod.

“Or a group of Normals or even an entire government. Ah, but
a wizard, with all the resources you have!” Tia added with a knowing grin.

“Oh, wow, Mom!” Daneel breathed. “Florence Nightingale,
Jonas Salk, and every other famous doctor in history all rolled into one!”

“Is that really possible?” Capie faintly asked, one hand
gently touching her throat. “What you’re suggesting…”

Paul beamed, from ear to ear. “Merlin and I talked about it
once, looking for a cure for you! A potion, or an elixir of some type! To cure
disease of all types! Ah, think of it! What a fabulous and grand idea!”

“It takes my breath away,” Capie said, swallowing hard. “The
scope of it! The audacity!”

“You wanted something useful to do,” Paul reminded her, with
a sly smile. “And, in your spare time, you can still help with the cooking.”

She scoffed and gave him a wicked stare. “You do know how to
spoil a moment, don’t you?”

“Is that a yes?” Tia asked.

Capie blinked several times, reaching up with the back of
her hand to wipe away a tear. “I…just don’t know yet if it’s even theoretically
possible. But yes, I will look into it. If I can do it, then I will.”

“Good show!” Uncle Sam declared, beaming with pride.

Daneel clapped his hands together in glee. “That was truly
delightful, Uncle Sam! Aunt Tia! I enjoyed every moment of it. Can we do it
again?”

• • • •

After checking out of the resort in the early afternoon,
Paul went straight back to the Staging Area, more than a bit anxious now to
finish the construction of the ship just as quickly as possible. And he now had
an added task to find some sort of emergency backup, just in case the ship
failed them. On that score, he had an idea or two but they would take time to
investigate.

Capie took Daneel to the York motel room, plugging him into
AC power and the internet to allow him to do his research. And, with Tia’s
help, she earnestly started her research for a comprehensive cure for all human
disease.

All three of them were saddened a day later by the latest
event in Israel, which was enough to depress anyone. Ten extremist terrorists,
armed with assault rifles, had ambushed and massacred three busloads of
tourists along with their drivers at the foot of the Masada Desert Fortress,
the second most visited tourist site in all of Israel. Sixty-nine dead, five
wounded, two of which were not expected to live.

Events in the Middle East were still building toward war.
Taking Hamadi out of the picture hadn’t changed anything.

The Blue Monkey Restaurant

Kalgoorlie, Australia

September

Thursday 7:21 a.m. AWST

C
apie
finished spreading orange marmalade on her toast, putting the knife back on the
table and leaning forward a little to nibble on one edge.

They were having breakfast in a window booth at a local
restaurant that they had not yet tried, a place with the unlikely name of the
Blue Monkey. So far, both she and Paul liked the café a lot. It was not as
convenient as the York’s restaurant, but sometimes a change of venue and menu was
desirable.

Since Daneel didn’t eat, he had no opinion. He merely
watched indifferently as he floated above and to one side of the table, cloaked
from the Normals in the restaurant, courtesy of spells from Paul.

“Just to let you know,” Capie said between bites of her toast
and from a cup of peach yogurt, “that I probably won’t be in Kalgoorlie at
lunch time today. Most likely I’ll be in Perth getting started on the magical
potion project.”

Paul paused while chewing his sausage roll to listen to her
statement and then resumed.

“I’ve decided to name it the MBE Project, and the target
potion as the MBE Drug,” she continued, ignoring her husband’s unresponsiveness.
“And, before you ask, MBE is an acronym. I know how fond of acronyms you are.
MBE stands for ‘Magic Bullet Elixir.’ Do you like that name?”

Her husband practically choked on the sausage roll before
grabbing his glass of orange juice to help swallow his food. When he was able
to breathe again, he took several deep breaths, the look of consternation
fading from his expression.

“I’ll take that for a ‘yes,’” Capie declared with a sardonic
smile. “Elixir seems an appropriate word to use, since it is defined as a
magical potion, a preparation supposedly able to prolong life. So, MBE it will
be. Oh, and I’ll be taking both Daneel and Ariel-Leira with me.”

Paul managed to swallow another sip of orange juice and give
her a suspicious look. “Daneel, I understand. But why take Ariel-Leira?”

Capie dug the last of the yogurt from her cup. “We’ve sort
of hit it off, the two of us. Oh, I know that Merlin and Tia don’t approve of
her very much. But Ariel-Leira has given me several suggestions that I like.
She’s useful. I like her.”

Since Paul could think of nothing intelligent to say in
response, he shrugged and cautiously took another nibble of his sausage roll.

“So,” Capie muttered conversationally in an attempt to bring
the conversation around to something that Paul would talk about. “A little
birdie tells me that you plan to build fifty thousand Scotties.”

Paul produced a sly smile and waved a fork at the young “stoolie”
floating a few feet away from him. Gazing back at Capie, he stabbed some scrambled
egg with his fork. “Yes, your source is correct. Fifty thousand Scotties is the
goal. Of course, we first have to find and fix a certain serious problem in the
software. The, uh, one that seems to be lethal to Daneel.”

Capie looked thoughtfully out the front window at some of
the passersby.  “That’s a lot. I had no idea you were planning to build that
many. That really is an army.”

Paul shrugged as he chewed and swallowed his bite. “Since I
don’t know how many Oni there are, I’d rather have a few too many Scotties than
not enough.”

She leaned forward intently. “A few days ago, you said that
there will be new Scotties to nurse-maid? So they won’t all be copies of
Daneel?”

Paul snorted in response. “No offense, Daneel, but I’d
rather not have fifty thousand copies of you running around loose.”

“Neither would I,” Daneel responded scornfully. “And no
offense taken.”

“Good,” Capie said, with an approving tone of voice. “It
would be too confusing that way. So what is your plan?”

Paul sipped on his orange juice while he marshaled his
thoughts. Putting the glass down, he smiled at the two of them.

“Do either of you remember the
Star Trek
episode, ‘I,
Mudd?’” he asked.

“The one with all the robots?” Daneel replied first. “I am
NOT a robot!”

“No, you are not,” Capie agreed. “But I think I see what my
husband is thinking. You want to create several series of Scotties, is that
correct? And then number them?”

“Excellent guess,” Paul observed, then pointed his fork
again at Daneel. “He would then be Daneel 1. When he duplicates himself, there
will be a Daneel 2, a Daneel 3 and so forth.”

Capie laid down her toast as she considered the idea. “How
many different series would you have and how would you build them?”

Paul chuckled. “Yes, I have given that considerable thought.
The more series of Scotties that we have, the fewer the number in each series.
On the other hand, for each new series, we have to create a new individual, in
the same fashion that we created Daneel. That means each new progenitor of a
series must start as a baby and then grow up. Depending on the number of
progenitors involved, that could become very labor intensive, caring for all of
those infants.”

“Oh, I see,” Daneel perceived. “Five progenitors, as you
call them, is not enough. That would be ten thousand copies of each.”

Paul nodded. “I agree. Ten thousand are too many of each of
you. However, to reduce the number in each series, we will have to have more
series. I propose that we have fifty different series of one thousand Scotties
each. I think that’s a good balance. Yes, it might be challenging nursing forty-nine
more new lines of Scotties, but it is doable.”

“I’m glad that you already worked that out,” Daneel noted.
“It was starting to worry me a little. Fifty thousand copies of me floating
around seemed like too many.”

“Yes, on that score, I agree,” Capie noted, with a wink of
one eye.

“Careful there, Mom!” Daneel admonished her. “I personally
think the galaxy would implode if there were fifty thousand copies of anyone to
have to deal with!”

Capie laughed, which made Paul feel pleased. Things were
back on track and all was right with his family again.

“And will each one of the fifty thousand Scotties get a
super-talisman too?” Capie asked casually as she set down a now empty yogurt
cup.

“Yes, they will,” Paul acknowledged, with a quick nod. “Just
like the one that we are trying to build now. However, I’ve decided that I
don’t want to call them super-talismans,” he said with a set jaw.

“Oh, I agree. That sounds so, well, wimpy,” Capie agreed.
“Have you picked out something else? Oh, I see that smug grin of yours. What
are you thinking?”

“As you know, the Air Force loves acronyms. And the term
Scottie—”

His wife waved a hand to stop him. “Yes, yes, I know all
that. What did you decide to call them, if not super-talisman? Another acronym,
right?”

“Yes, I am. The first term I considered was SIT or Super
Isotropic Talisman.”

“Lame.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I played with several other
possibilities but finally decided that a different approach was needed.”

Capie grimaced and said, “You’re determined to drag this
out, aren’t you? So, what did you decide?”

“To use the first letter of fictitious energy sources. And
in science fiction, there were a lot of candidates for me to use. Ultimately, I
decided to use cold fusion, hyper matter from
Star Wars
, unobtainium—”

“From
Avatar
? Or from
The Core
?” Capie asked
with a smile.

“Ah, so you know both of those! But the term ‘unobtainium’
covers a lot more ground than just those two movies. It’s a general term for
any material or device that is very difficult or even impossible to obtain. So
it also covers things like tyllium from
Battlestar Galactica
, dilithium
crystals, transparent aluminum and pergium from
Star Trek
, redstone from
Minecraft, adamantium and vibranium from Marvel Comics, Kryptonite, and a whole
host of others.”

“And Mithril, Octiron and Orichalcum too,” muttered Capie
thoughtfully. “From the fantasy novels
Lord of the Rings
,
Discworld,
and
The Elder Scrolls
, among others. You’re right. Unobtainium does
cover a lot of ground. Go on. Now you’ve got me curious.”

“To continue the acronym, Tesseract from
Avengers
,
ZPM from
StarGate
, particle accelerators from
Ghostbusters
, antimatter
from
Star Trek,
and human power from
The Matrix
movies. Putting
them together spells—”

“Chutzpah,” Capie said with a groan. “You’ve got to be
kidding me. Is that what you are really going to call them?”

“I think it has a certain
je ne sais quoi
,” Paul
claimed with a defiant grin.

“You have a true engineer’s sense of humor,” Capie
complained with a frown.

“Why, thank you, dear.”

“It wasn’t meant as a compliment,” she pointed out
playfully. “So, what’s on the schedule for this morning? I have a little time
before I plan to head off to Perth.”

“How about a quick tour?” he answered her, trading a
question for a question. “To show you the status of the ship. You haven’t seen
the latest things I’ve done to it.”

“I’d like that,” she conceded with another smile. “It
probably needs a woman’s touch at that.”

At the look on his face, she laughed and gave him a playful
wink.

• • • •

With an incredulous expression on her face, Capie watched as
Paul levitated the first piece of the ship’s hull plating into place,
encapsulating the titanium in a pure bubble of argon gas and then, with
multiple flashes of sputtering metal, welded it down to the longerons of the
ship’s tail assembly.

Paul rubbed his hands together and stepped up next to her.

“Well, what do you think so far? Do you like it?” he asked
expectantly.

“I don’t know about Mom, but I like it!” declared Daneel,
from a nearby table.

Capie couldn’t seem to find the right words to describe how
she felt about it. “It’s certainly…different.”

His reaction surprised her. He laughed, reaching out to hug
her briefly.

“Yep, it is that,” he agreed readily enough. “I sort of
thought it might catch you by surprise.”

“Surprise is not the right word,” she said disparagingly
with a wave of the hand. “When you told me that you were building a spacecraft,
I expected something…well, I just wasn’t expecting you to stand the plane on
its tail like a rocket ship from the 1950’s! You’ve got to be kidding me! Are
you serious?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Yeah, Mom. I’d like to know that too.”

She turned to Daneel. “Don’t you both gang up on me, now.
It’s just that I expected something a lot more modern! And knowing you, I would
have guessed from a science fiction movie! Something more like
Star Wars
or
Star Trek
or
Firefly
or even
Space 1999
for crying out
loud!”

“Oh, but this
was
in a sci-fi movie,” Paul counter
argued. “Well, actually several of them, like
Destination Moon, Rocketship
X-M,
and
Abbott and Costello Go to Mars
.”

“Abbott and Costello?! But why?” she asked with a bemused
smile. “When you have so many other, more modern choices to choose from, why oh
why did you pick spaceships from the 1950’s?!”

“That’s easy. Because all the modern sci-fi spaceships are
wrong for our situation.”

“Wrong?” she asked, blinking in surprise. Of all the things
he could have said, his answer truly surprised her. “How are they wrong?”

“Again, that’s easy,” he replied smugly. “Because they are
all designed like airplanes instead of spacecraft. They are all oriented in the
wrong direction. Even the
Enterprise
.”

Capie paused to think about what he was saying. “The wrong
direction?”

Paul waved his hand, creating a holographic display in
midair and in it, an airplane. “Certainly. An airplane flies along pretty much
at a constant speed, with gravity perpendicular to the direction of flight.
Therefore, it makes sense to put the seats at 90 degrees to the direction of
forward motion, in the direction of gravity. But, that does not make sense in a
spacecraft.” With a wave of his hand, the display changed. A rocketship was now
in the display, a huge plume of fire from the tail. Inside the ship, a man in a
spacesuit was sitting in a cockpit at the front of the craft. He held up an apple
and then let it go, looking very surprised as it fell the length of the ship
behind him instead of down to his feet.

“In space, the effective gravity is opposite to the
direction of the ship, as long as the spacecraft is accelerating forward.
Therefore, our design needs to take that into account. To be more like the
Luna
of
Destination Moon
than an
Eagle
or the
Serenity
, a
Battlestar, or a Federation starship.”

“Very logical, Dad,” Daneel observed. “You’d make a pretty
good Vulcan, you know.”

Paul half bowed. “Why, thank you, son.”

Capie looked as if she had eaten something sour. “But, don’t
all those ships have artificial gravity or some such, to compensate for that?”
she asked.

“Supposedly, yes,” Paul answered with a smirk. “And, on top
of that, they all have inertial compensators too, to compensate for the
acceleration effects due to the ship’s thrust. Well, that’s just Hollywood
dramatic license nonsense. No engineer is going to design an interplanetary
ship that way. Waste of energy. Waste of materials. Waste of money and
resources. Especially when it is so much easier to turn everything 90 degrees
and let acceleration provide the artificial gravity needed. Bingo, all sorts of
engineering problems solved and resources saved. This,” and he pointed at the
tall, finned ship in front of him, “is a far more efficient design and easier
to build. Sometimes, newer is not necessarily better.”