“Viz, I did see your flashnote about the need for 50 megs. Communal must have had a tiny short-circuit though. There is no secure website for Shockwave. You only came up with the name yesterday. We do need a secure site though. That’s a good idea.
“Back to topic, a bomb of that size will need to come from Russia. The U.S. doesn’t have a nuclear device with that high of a yield. And now isn’t the time to put something together in a back room.
“Russia will cooperate. The composition of the nuclear material on the Russian bomb will match that of the material from the rover. Let’s just say, the rover was a joint project. Good job you two. Keep that kind of thinking front and center!”
The general is already calling back. That was fast. Let’s synch and listen in. I need to choose Synch Settings? Always with the choices. Just use the presets.
* General <command diction>: “Prepare to receive the coordinates for the bug base on Mars at your secure website. I’ve included scans, audio, and video to help you with your op planning.”
* Mr. T <assertion with collegiate prompt>: “We don’t have a secure website.”
* General <matter-of-fact tone>: “You do now. Type in shockwave.edf.gov User Name: redAlert. Password: bug2!Juice. Here it is, embedded for your s-loop.”
* Mr. T <mild surprise>: “Okay. Thanks. Oh, general?”
* General <purposeful exaggerated question sound in speech tone>: “Yes?”
* Mr. T <arbitration tonality>: “We need a bomb with a little more pop than those artillery nukes.”
* General <assumptive nature>: “Yield?”
* Mr. T: <question form>: “50 Megatons?”
* <Line operational, line operational...>
* <Line operational, on hold>
There was a rustling sound in the background. Then we were placed on hold. Time dragged on. But, you know, for the government it seemed as though things had been moving along relatively quickly. Even I knew this was a big ask. Mr. T has his eyes closed. A quick power nap. Not a bad idea. Break time.
***
+ BEGIN TIMELINE DROP.
NOTE: This is merely a disclosure. I’m Dropping this way back in the Journal timeline.
This isn’t a science journal or a strict military journal. It’s hard enough trying to run and keep up with all that’s going on and make sure the important information gets into the Journal. Seriously, there have been times when I was, literally, running along and journaling. I can manage sublingual dictation well enough.
The science stuff in the Journal should be mostly correct. True, I should task the AIs, or at least Albert (my personal AI), to double check and suggest corrections. Especially when I’m trying to keep up with Rock and Roll, and all their chatter.
The problem is, the AIs are so stinking picky. On top of that, truth be told, I’m not sure Albert is completely sane.
Anyway, the Journal is too general to get into a lot of technical stuff. Hey, if you want to take the time to review the AI corrections and make any changes, you go for it, baby. Sorry if that sounds a little testy. I’m up late memorizing operations data. And, evidently, I’m a little cranky.
It’s like all the Rock and Roll stuff. I have the Journal filter their technical talk. I do that using an algorithm specifically designed to translate their yacking, toning it down to an elementary level. Half the time they’re spouting off lines and lines of equations to get their point across. And every year it gets worse. If I’m not careful, this could become a math journal, for goodness sakes.
I knew they were always good at math; from the time they were little kids. But I didn’t know they could have entire discussions using just math. In all those symbols and lines they see amazing things; consider the makeup of other realms. Yeah, good for them, I'll stick to using math when I have to.
END TIMELINE DROP. +
***
I had better not try to nap though. It’s worse when you just get to sleep and then have to grind your way back to wakefulness. A nice stretch and stroll may help.
Rock and Roll are on their computers. No doubt researching all things quantum. Rock has a little smile on his face, totally engrossed. Whatever he’s reading must be super exciting. Let’s take a peek. Oh, for goodness sakes. It’s some mathematical formula taking up pages and pages. Looks like gibberish and squiggles. He’s certainly enjoying it though. Back to my seat.
On the way, let’s see what Para’s reading. Some dumb glamor magazine or something. I’ll give her a good scowl. And she stuck her tongue out at me! Back at you Para. We’re so bored.
Where’s Muncle? He was here a second ago. There he is on top of the refrigerator. He’s gnawing on a banana, must be bored too, doesn’t even like bananas.
The general’s back. Finally.
The general cleared his throat. “The U.S. does not currently have a nuke with that high of a yield. Our largest is the MK-41 with a yield of 25 megatons. I might have a work-around. What is your maximum payload capacity?”
Mr. T looked at Rock and Roll. “What is your combined maximum weight limit for porting?”
Rock had that look of his, like he was about to correct a mistake. Mr. T saw it too. “I understand it isn’t the weight, exactly, that matters. It’s mass. But I’ve heard you use weight to get a general feel for a port lift.”
Rock turned to Roll. “Capsule?”
Roll thought for a split second. “4,152 pounds.”
Rock glared. “Really? Exactly 4,152 pounds?”
Roll shrugged. “Give or take a few ounces. Hey, sometimes details matter. Add 500 pounds for cargo.” He whispered to Rock. “You know, for us, and such.”
Rock and Roll turned to Mr. T and said at the same time. “4,652 pounds. We could
