''Power flow to the lasers is decreasing. Recharge will take two extra minutes at this acceleration,'' she told the Captain.
''No problem,'' he muttered, his eyes on his own board.
''Three g's it is, sir,'' the Helm answered through gritted teeth. Kris didn't much care for weighing over 170 kilos. The Helmsman, a footballer in college, was easily approaching 400. Great for crashing a line, lousy for deft movements on a control board now in his lap.
Again the Captain went down the department list. Every station reported itself nominal, if a bit on the heavy side. That put them past test four's failure point.
''Four g's if you will, Helmsman. Keep her very steady on this course.''
''Reactor heading into one hundred and eleven percent overload,'' Engineering reported, his voice heavy with strain. ''One hundred and twelve percent… No problems. One hundred and thirteen percent… All stations steady. One hundred and fifteen percent and everything is as good as it gets.''
''Very good, Engineering. We will hold the reactor there. Let me know if anything changes,'' the Captain said.
NELLY? Kris thought.
THERE ARE SOME INTERESTING ANOMALIES IN CERTAIN SYSTEMS, KRIS. NONE SHOULD BE A THREAT TO THE SHIP.
Interesting words for a computer. ''I show all green,'' Kris said after checking her own board to verify Nelly's report.
''Strangely enough, so does mine,'' the Captain answered.
''We are at four g's,'' the Helmsman announced weakly.
Kris watched the seconds tick away on her board for a full minute before Hayworth spoke, and then it was to the entire crew. ''All hands, this is the Captain. The Firebolt has now done what no other Kamikaze-class ship has done before: held four g's for a full minute. We will complete our scheduled quals after two more tests. Helm, turn right forty-five degrees smartly.''
The Helm whispered, ''Aye, aye, sir,'' as his fingers stabbed at his board. Kris did not feel the ship bank around her, accommodating its human occupants' needs at four times their weight. ''On new course.''
Everyone breathed a sigh. One more test to go.
''Helm, execute jinks pattern A.''
''Jinks pattern A, sir. Executing now.''
The ship rose suddenly, attitudinal thrusters adding more weight to Kris. It jinked right, then left, then left some more, dodging imaginary laser fire.
Problems are developing in the… Nelly began. Kris's board showed green. Sucking in air, Kris's gaze raced from green gauge to green gauge, searching for any sign of something going wrong. Nothing!
SCRAM! Nelly shouted in Kris's head.
Kris was weightless in the dark as the ship went dead around her.
''Where are those damn auxiliaries?'' the Captain snapped. Ventilation hummed as Engineering corrected the problem with the backup power. The bridge took on light as boards came alive. Emergency lights cast long shadows. Systematically, Kris studied her board; nothing told her why Nelly had shut down the test.
''Engineering, are you on-line?'' the Captain asked into his commlink.
''Yes, sir. We lost no test data. I'm organizing it while my team initiates a reactor start-up.''
''Am I to understand that you did not initiate that scram?''
''No, sir. We did not hit the button down here.''
''Thank you, Engineering. As soon as you have a rough handle on your data, report to my day cabin.''
''Aye, sir.''
''XO, you have the conn. When we get systems back online, set a one-g course for Nuu Docks. They should have our usual berth waiting for us.''
''Yes, sir.''
''Longknife, you're with me.''
''Yes, sir.'' NELLY, WHAT HAPPENED? Kris demanded as she pushed away from her station and swam, weightless, after the Captain to his day cabin off the bridge. Normally, that cabin was quite roomy. Under combat conditions, it was little more than a table and four chairs. The Captain settled into his place at the head of the table as a boson announced the ship was getting under way. Kris closed the door, rotated herself as she took on weight, and stood at attention.
''Have I missed something about my ship, Lieutenant? Last time I checked, there were three scram buttons on this boat. Mine and the Chief Engineer's, the two every ship of this class has. I know the Firebolt has a third, authorized to you because of your job as coordinator of this smart-metal test, and, I suspect, because of your unique relationship with the yard.'' That was a rather original way of saying her grandfather owned the shipyard that made all the Kamikazes.
''Yes, sir,'' Kris agreed, stalling, praying the Engineer would show up with whatever reason Nelly had for stopping the test only moments before the Captain could have declared them done and over.
''The Engineer tells me he did not hit his scram button. I know I did not hit mine. Did you hit yours?''
Kris's board would show no contact between her and the red button. No use claiming she had. ''No, sir. I did not scram the reactor.'' Stall. Stall.
''Who did?''
Kris stood board straight, dreading the answer but unwilling to lie to her Skipper, certainly not going to tell a lie that would be disproved as fast as she said it.
''Whoever scrammed my engines saved our butts,'' the Chief Engineer said, opening the door… and saving Kris's butt. ''Pardon me, Captain, am I interrupting a private counseling session?''
''No, Dale, take a seat. You, too, Longknife,'' the Skipper said wearily. Dale Chowski, Chief Engineer, a half dozen oversize readers under his arm, settled into one chair. Kris took the chair across from him.
''What went wrong this time, Dale?'' the Captain asked.
''Specifically, the superconductors on the containment coil for plasma headed for our number-one engine were four nanoseconds away from losing the super part of their name when the reactor scrammed.'' The engineer ran a hand through his crew cut. ''I take it that it was that fine computer around your neck, Lieutenant, that we have to thank for this bit of grace.''
Kris nodded. ''My personal computer spotted the developing problem. It tried to advise me, but the problem came on too fast for me to react.''
IT! Nelly spat in Kris's head.
SHUT UP, Kris ordered.
''So your pet computer was working faster than the ones in my engine room,'' the Engineer finished, not missing the Captain's scowl as he did. ''Skipper, I know you don't much like the idea of nonstandard software roaming around the innards of your ship. Can't say I like it much either, but rather than look the gift horse we got in the mouth, why don't we tell BuShips that we need a computer like she's got. Hell, if she transferred off the ship tomorrow, I swear I'd go out and buy one for myself. What would a gadget like yours set a guy back?''
Kris told him the cost of Nelly's last upgrade, minus the surgery to get the jack into her head. He let out a low whistle. ''Guess we keep you around for a while.''
The Skipper's scowl got even deeper. ''Dale, what exactly went wrong from a systems point of view?''
''This is just an old Engineer's personal guess, but I'd say the calculations the metal is supposed to do automatically as to what this or that part of the ship needs for high g's was off a bit for our rocket motors that are farthest from the center of the ship. Engine one and six got whipped around by the jinking the most. Number one failed. I think we'll find six wasn't that long for the world.''
''So we need to adjust the automatic algorithm for redistributing metal,'' the Captain said.
''Could do that,'' the Engineer agreed, his face going sour. ''But I stand by my last recommendation. Take Engineering off the smart-metal regime. Set the specs for our reactor, machinery, and plasma containment fields, then freeze it in place.''