you all know. That is all.”
We were still in the look-at-each-other-and-shrug mode, just before shifting into the now-what-do-we-do stage when Brill’s radio bipped and Mr. Maxwell’s voice came over the little speaker.
“Brill, Is Engineman Wang there?” he asked.
“Yes, sar, standing right here.”
“Have him collect his portable and report to the bridge right away.”
“Aye, aye, sar,” she said.
“Maxwell, out.”
“Beats me,” I said without waiting for the question. “I’ll let ya know as soon as I can.” I raced for the hatch, my locker, and the bridge, in that order. I climbed to the top of the ladder in less than a tick and gave a breathless “Engineman Wang reporting as ordered.”
Mr. von Ickles waited at the top of the ladder. “You brought it?”
I held up my portable computer.
“Okay, Ishmael,” he said. “I need you to focus, just like this is a test.”
I don’t know what was more disturbing, seeing him scrape a pile of toasted circuit boards off a console and onto the deck, or the fact that he used my first name.
“Set it up there and get it booted.” He handed me a cube. “This is the minimum ShipNet code. I want you to run it.”
I let my brain sink into the task at hand. All the stuff going on around me faded out as I focused. I mounted the cube and recognized the language and realized my computer could not read it. “I’ll need ten ticks, I have to make some changes,” I said without looking up and without waiting for permission.
“You have eight.”
I did it in five and booted the ShipNet on my portable. It crashed, but I found the error and tried again. The second time it stayed up. I sat back and watched as displays across the bridge winked to life. I heard people laughing and some cheering before a short word from the captain restored quiet efficiency to the bridge. I looked up and around then, with that feeling like I was surfacing from one of my ratings exams. Mr. von Ickles looked down at me with a big grin.
“Did I pass?” I asked.
“Congratulations, Mr. Wang, you are now certified spec two in systems and, if we live, I will so note in your personnel jacket,” he said with a laugh.
“If we live—” I started to say and then noticed the forward port. A planet filled the view and the captain’s words, “ballistic trajectory,” came back to me. I turned back to the portable and took a quick status of the system. The network pushed the portable hard, but without the big databases and other ancillary information it managed the load. With the portable serving as the central routing hub secondary hubs across the ship came online and began distributing the processing.
It seemed to be going well then I noticed the battery status. “Power, sar. I need to plug this in or the battery will go within a stan.”
He pointed to a receptacle just inside the console. It looked like somebody had just ripped the panel out. I reached down, plugged in the portable, and watched the indicator shift from drain to charge. The extra power gave the processor another jolt, kicking it out of low power mode and it started to gain ground on the backlog of queued commands.
I pulled out my tablet and brought up my environmental watch stander display. CO2 was up. Particulates were up. O2 was a little low but within parameters. I brought up the sensor overlay used during VSIs and ran an all-node query, watching as they flashed in order. Three of them were out near the port bow section but all the rest were operational.
“Sar? Request permission to report to Brill?” I said to Mr. von Ickles.
He glanced at my tablet and said, “Her tablet should be live too. Bip her with it. Any problems?”
I shook my head, “No, just we have some sensors off-line on the port bow. I want to get them logged so we can add them to the queue. The rest they’ll see on the big console down there.”
The acknowledgment came back almost instantly.
“Got it!” Mr. Kelley almost shouted
We were still in the look-at-each-other-and-shrug mode, just before shifting into the now-what-do-we-do stage when Brill’s radio bipped and Mr. Maxwell’s voice came over the little speaker.
“Brill, Is Engineman Wang there?” he asked.
“Yes, sar, standing right here.”
“Have him collect his portable and report to the bridge right away.”
“Aye, aye, sar,” she said.
“Maxwell, out.”
“Beats me,” I said without waiting for the question. “I’ll let ya know as soon as I can.” I raced for the hatch, my locker, and the bridge, in that order. I climbed to the top of the ladder in less than a tick and gave a breathless “Engineman Wang reporting as ordered.”
Mr. von Ickles waited at the top of the ladder. “You brought it?”
I held up my portable computer.
“Okay, Ishmael,” he said. “I need you to focus, just like this is a test.”
I don’t know what was more disturbing, seeing him scrape a pile of toasted circuit boards off a console and onto the deck, or the fact that he used my first name.
“Set it up there and get it booted.” He handed me a cube. “This is the minimum ShipNet code. I want you to run it.”
I let my brain sink into the task at hand. All the stuff going on around me faded out as I focused. I mounted the cube and recognized the language and realized my computer could not read it. “I’ll need ten ticks, I have to make some changes,” I said without looking up and without waiting for permission.
“You have eight.”
I did it in five and booted the ShipNet on my portable. It crashed, but I found the error and tried again. The second time it stayed up. I sat back and watched as displays across the bridge winked to life. I heard people laughing and some cheering before a short word from the captain restored quiet efficiency to the bridge. I looked up and around then, with that feeling like I was surfacing from one of my ratings exams. Mr. von Ickles looked down at me with a big grin.
“Did I pass?” I asked.
“Congratulations, Mr. Wang, you are now certified spec two in systems and, if we live, I will so note in your personnel jacket,” he said with a laugh.
“If we live—” I started to say and then noticed the forward port. A planet filled the view and the captain’s words, “ballistic trajectory,” came back to me. I turned back to the portable and took a quick status of the system. The network pushed the portable hard, but without the big databases and other ancillary information it managed the load. With the portable serving as the central routing hub secondary hubs across the ship came online and began distributing the processing.
It seemed to be going well then I noticed the battery status. “Power, sar. I need to plug this in or the battery will go within a stan.”
He pointed to a receptacle just inside the console. It looked like somebody had just ripped the panel out. I reached down, plugged in the portable, and watched the indicator shift from drain to charge. The extra power gave the processor another jolt, kicking it out of low power mode and it started to gain ground on the backlog of queued commands.
I pulled out my tablet and brought up my environmental watch stander display. CO2 was up. Particulates were up. O2 was a little low but within parameters. I brought up the sensor overlay used during VSIs and ran an all-node query, watching as they flashed in order. Three of them were out near the port bow section but all the rest were operational.
“Sar? Request permission to report to Brill?” I said to Mr. von Ickles.
He glanced at my tablet and said, “Her tablet should be live too. Bip her with it. Any problems?”
I shook my head, “No, just we have some sensors off-line on the port bow. I want to get them logged so we can add them to the queue. The rest they’ll see on the big console down there.”
The acknowledgment came back almost instantly.
“Got it!” Mr. Kelley almost shouted
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