Horizon Storms - Kevin J. Anderson [73]
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 scientist 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 a minor procedure. Since then, the Chief Scientist had devoted himself to his work for Hansa and King. It kept him busy.
“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 Swendsen had been chosen to supervise the complex dissection and dismantling operations of the Klikiss robot Jorax. The breakthroughs they had made by copying the alien systems 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 had 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 specifications. 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,” Swendsen said. “They’re already in production with sixty heavily armored rammer ships, 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 belt. “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?” Swendsen 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 quiet 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 Swendsen each took one of the proffered cups while the compy set the third on the Chairman’s immaculately clean desk. Palawu took a polite sip, looked at his friend. They both waited.
Wenceslas came in several minutes later accompanied by his blond-haired expediter. The Chairman straightened his suit and looked at the two scientists. “I apologize for the delay, gentlemen. I genuinely hate it when meetings don’t end on schedule.” He took a seat at his desk. “I understand how valuable your time is. I just wish some of my fellow administrators