“This is so. And you are Colonial Development Combine Vice President Astor-Smath?”
“Correct. I am also the Senior Liaison and Interim Director for the Colonial Development Combine’s activities in Indonesia. Allow me to extend my thanks to you and First Delegate Hu’urs Khraam for allowing us to continue our work on the mass driver, despite the unfortunate misunderstanding between our peoples.”
Darzhee Kut heard Yaargraukh’s bronchial huffing and nasal sputtering behind him, hoped Astor-Smath did not understand it as a sardonic and derisive laugh. “It is in the interest of both our races that you complete this project. Once we have departed, it will be a great aid in Earth’s construction of an even more extensive and modern cislunar presence.”
“Our thoughts exactly. Have you seen the mass driver?”
“Only images.”
Astor-Smath motioned for them to follow him to the other end of the building, where a ramp led up to an observation deck. The other Hkh’Rkh went on ahead eagerly. By the time Darzhee Kut arrived at the overlook, Graagkhruud was pointing out the bunkers that housed most of the Hkh’Rkh garrison. “They are excellent positions, built by humans under the supervision of the Arat Kur.” He turned to Astor-Smath. “Servitor being, summon a troop to this place. The First Voice of the First Family requires greater security.”
“As you wish.” The human spoke into his collarcom.
Darzhee Kut edged closer to the handrail—which, for him, was like a high fence—that followed the rim of the deck. He was not particularly bothered by the height, but he still found it difficult to move beyond the overhead limit of the awnings which shaded them where they stood. These roofings were only canvas, but were still comforting.
However, he hardly needed to move to the edge of the gallery to get a good look at the mass driver. The mechanism dominated the tableau. A thick, chrome-silver tube raised on pylons, it rose up from the tangled and browning trees that hugged the western skirts of Gunung Sawal, and sidestepped up and across the slopes of the extinct volcano at an angle that corresponded to an E-NE orientation, ending in an incline of slightly less than forty degrees.
Darzhee Kut half-rotated to face Astor-Smath. “It is an impressive structure.”
Astor-Smath smiled. “And with power from a dedicated fusion plant, it will put a half kiloliter container of up to three hundred fifty kilos into low earth orbit, either for pickup or transfer to higher orbit.”
Darzhee Kut wondered the tactful way to express his assessment. “That is a rather modest payload.”
“Per canister, yes. But, even in our start-up phase, we will be launching one every two minutes throughout a twelve-hour operational day. Once we’ve smoothed out the system and are comfortable with the operating procedures, we will begin to reduce the launch interval and extend the hours. We conservatively estimate that, at nominal function, the driver will lift be lifting high-gee-rated cargos into space at only one-tenth or even one-one-hundredth of the current market cost.”
“Such a complex machine will be malfunctioning more than it will be operating.” Graagkhruud’s dismissive assessment was unusually aggressive in tone. Darzhee Kut flexed his claws. So, he is made nervous by the humans’ greater technical acumen.
Astor-Smath was utterly unruffled. “It is hard to envision the source of such problems. The mass driver machinery is arguably far less complicated than the rail-guns of warships. It obviates the need for manned launch vehicles, so instead of piloting problems, we have an easy training regimen for the ground crew. There are only minimal insurance fees, since the loss incurred by any single catastrophic container failure is relatively minor. The silver-colored exposure sleeve enables virtually all-weather operation and repair, and the basic payload canisters cost less than twenty-five hundred credits per unit, when manufactured in bulk. And, when they are retrieved and emptied, they themselves can be converted into modular drop tanks for less than three hundred per unit.”
Yaargraukh was also looking at the mass driver. “So the launch canister is actually part of the payload. Ingenious. But I must wonder at your choice of construction site.”
“I do not understand.” Astor-Smath’s voice was mild; his eyes were unreadable.
Darzhee Kut picked up the topic; he had been wondering the same thing. “With respect, Senior Liaison Astor-Smath, the weather in this region hardly seems optimal for the operation of such a system.”
“That consideration determined much of the driver’s design. You will notice how it remains relatively low to the ground for as much of its length as possible: a precaution against storm winds.”
“Still, its girth is greater than I imagined. It presents a large silhouette.”
“The width you see from the outside is misleading. That’s just the exposure sleeve, which protects the rails and accelerator junctures within, and allows workmen to walk or drive the length of the system even in heavy weather. The sleeve is lightweight and fully disposable. In the event of a typhoon, its sections are designed to tear loose and fly free of the mechanism, if the wind speed becomes dangerous to the entirety of the structure.”
“So it is secure from the weather.” First Voice pointed beyond the bunkers housing his warriors and out toward the remains of a charred kempang. “But it seems vulnerable to human threats.” The other Hkh’Rkh looked along with their leader and, evidently saw something which caused them to rumble in agreement.
Darzhee Kut strained his multiple ocular lenses into the best distance resolution he could muster. He saw thin, burnt sticks angling skyward among the shattered huts and houses. He extended a claw. “What are they?”
Yaargraukh spoke over Graagkhruud’s disdainful nasal guttering. “Launch stakes, Speaker Kut. And beyond, blackened shells of armored vehicles, cratered mortar pits, skeletons of burnt-out trucks.”
Graagkhruud snorted. “I have read the after-action report. These humans were foolish to try cases with us. Our PDF systems intercepted their missiles and free rockets. Orbital fire eliminated their tanks and troop carriers. And then our warriors went among them like scythes in the reeds.”
“An admirable fight, in which we too had a hand.” Astor-Smath’s comment was as calm as a maître d’s invitation to be seated.
First Voice looked over at the human. “Tell me, Being, do you delight in aiding us against your own kind?”
Darzhee heard the trap in the words and the tone. Of the many human traits and behaviors that the Hkh’Rkh had found difficult to understand, the existence of individuals who would collaborate with invaders was the most difficult. But if First Voice unduly antagonized these key indigenous allies—
Astor-Smath sidestepped the trap that First Voice had laid. “I delight in doing whatever will end this war quickly, minimize the loss of life, and will allow my defeated planet to rebuild itself as quickly as possible. And as I remarked, this mass driver will greatly facilitate that rebuilding. So if some of our corporate security elements were able to better protect it by guarding your flanks and providing targeting information during your assault, we deemed it unfortunate but necessary to thusly take up arms against other humans.”
Yaargraukh bobbed his head in the direction of a mass of ill-clothed humans—mostly male—who had appeared from among the many low buildings and warehouses that were clustered at the western extents of the security compound. “Are they prisoners taken during the engagement?”
“No, they are merely residents of the area. A few are refugees, I believe.”