All in all, the game developers were mostly satisfied with the situation. Sure, some were not quite happy with me being a Pure, but they were used to that by now thanks to Val, and as I heard a big part of the administration of the former Ralcon Game Studios.
Still, there were some things to talk about. Nothing that I thought was anything that I was needed for. I mean, I’ve given them access to Calliope and told them again that it would be best if they got jacks, but in the end, most of the rest was internal.
Sure, I gave the ‘New-Id’ studio everything that Warden had made from Doom for me, quadrupling the whole game in one swoop, but I had barely anything to contribute otherwise. Don’t get me wrong, I was indeed interested in the topic of computer games. But I had barely played any since 45.
It was just too… jarring, going from the fidelity and quality of a jack to what was programmed for a diadem.
That did not mean that I had no demands, though. One thing I insisted on was a VR fighting game with some sort of armor-piercing energy swords. Preferably with a full training program.
While my excursions into cybernetical combat had tapered off to almost nothing, I still remembered vividly how the armor-piercing MH7 that Mark had made for me had changed my use of guns in cyberspace. As far as I knew, I was the only jack who routinely used guns for it.
But with such a VR trainer and something that would convince my subconscious mind that a sword was indeed armor piercing… it would open up some options. That I could see such a game actually becoming a bit of a success was just the cherry on top.
All in all, after around an hour and a half, I decided that I was no longer needed at this meeting. I had a quick talk with Val and then left the group to talk among themselves.
Then I made my way to Michael’s office. On the way, I realized that I knew almost nothing about how this building was laid out. I knew where the office of the CEO was, of course, and I now knew this meeting room, but otherwise… not much.
I also knew that I had an office here as well. Somewhere. Not that I was ever there. It was something of an appearance thing I think. The CTO had to have an office in the HQ or something like that.
Not that it mattered that this was a provisional HQ and that I did my work almost exclusively in VR or in one of my labs at the fortress. Noo, of course not. Stupid thing.
Michael’s executive assistant, Tricia Sanders, saw me entering the anteroom and pressed a button on her desk, waving me to go right through.
The man himself stood up from behind his very modern desk and waved.
“There you are. It took you a bit less time than I expected, but all in all, still within the plan. Was everything all right?”
He gestured for me to sit in one of his visitor chairs, and while I sat down, I could not help to compare Michael's hypermodern steel and synth leather office furnishings with Ben’s much more traditional one. I could only guess what Ben’s furniture was worth, but it was definitely more than what I was seeing here.
It was also quite a bit more comfortable. On the other hand, real wood office furniture was hard to get these days. If I had to guess, Ben’s was created well before the great war.
“Sure it was. At first, there was the usual rigmarole about VIs, but in the end, they all accepted it. Oh, and of course, they needed to be convinced that I am somewhat important. You know, the usual stuff.
When I was leaving, they were neck-deep in a discussion about which old titles to remake and which not. Something about some settings not being that interesting.
I think the only one they categorically ruled out from the get-go was something called Fallout. From what they told me, I can understand it.
It plays in the post-apocalyptic aftermath of WW3, with destroyed cities, mutated animals, some sort of zombies, and so on.
Seriously, if people want to do something like that, they just have to go to the death belt and experience it live and in color.”
He nodded.
“Yeah, I can see that. I’ll have somebody give them Q-links to here. Maybe we should transfer Calliope here as well.”
I tilted my head.
“Do you mean the server or the program? Moving the server is, well you remember that it has 150 server racks of cooling, right? In addition to the single server rack of the computer and three racks of power supply. Moving all that is maybe a bit impractical.”
He nodded softly.
“Yeah, I see that. But… aren’t the processors the only thing that is not old tech?”
“No, not really. I took advantage of the 414 pm process in designing the mainboards and daughterboards as well. Also, I would like to keep my super Grendel. If you think you need one here, then build one by yourself.”
He snorted.
“Hey, I think that I won’t get Warden to give me the Grendels she produces.”
I shrugged.
“That is only a matter of time. What do you need a fully populated super Grendel at this time anyway?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Not that I don’t want one anyway. But at this time, the only use for one would be giving you access to it. Well, in time. Now, the C-suite meeting is in half an hour. Why don’t you go and inspect your office? I fear I have still a few things to do.”
When I did not move for some time, he raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.
“Is something wrong?”
“I am waiting for you to tell me where this fabled office is.”
Before he could answer, I heard Warden’s message:
“I can guide you there.” And I lifted my hand, forstalling Michael.
“Never mind, apparently, Warden knows the way.”
After staring at me for a few seconds, he sighed exasperatedly.
“Of course she does. Why did I ever expect something else? Fine, I’ll collect you when it is time for the next meeting then.”
“See you then.” With that, I stood up and followed the yellow markings that Warden projected into my vision. On the way out, I said a quick “Bye” to Tricia, and then walked all the way two doors down. Where a big sign proudly proclaimed ‘Vivian DuClare – Chief Technological Officer’.
I felt a bit sheepish. I mean, come on, I had been at Michael’s office a couple of times, but I had never even registered this sign. Unsurprisingly, it opened up from my biometric signature. Equally unsurprising, the anteroom was devoid of any assistant or secretary.
Yes, Michael had offered to hire me one, but seriously, all this secretary would do was delegate tasks to Warden anyway. And sit the rest of the time in an empty office without anything to do. Nope, I just kept Warden officially as my assistant.
The office itself was not that dissimilar to Michael’s. The same hyper-modern style of furniture, the same cabinet with some bottles that I assumed contained something I could not even consume, a synth-leather couch with a coffee table.
It was, of course, a bit smaller. And still a waste. Yes, I understand that Enki had to project a certain image, but seriously, I was just the tech gal. I doubted that anybody would ever want to meet me here in this office.
Naturally, we could never be too sure about that, but I had just the idea for that. A telepresence bot, with an integrated hologram projector. Then in case I was needed, and the person was unwilling or unable to enter VR, I could remotely operate the bot and would never even have to leave cyberspace.
After looking around the office for a few seconds, I shrugged and decided to see what type of computer Michael had put into the office. I was a bit ambivalent about it. On the one hand, almost anything would be a step down from Glory anyway, and my pride as a Jack would not allow me to go down too many steps.
On the other hand, within seconds, I could remotely connect to Glory at any given time, and any computer here in this room would be mostly a paperweight. Not that computers were in any way expensive.
When the display showed my very own creation of a firmware during the a tad over 10 seconds of boot time, I quickly realized that Michael had built at least one NADA here. Which of course made all the arguments about the costs of the computer moot.
The system sported the very best desktop tech I had created, but the cost increase compared to the bare minimum was… negligible. I think the difference between a Hyperion 3, and a Hyperion 12 1990G was somewhere in the range of one or two percent.
All in all, I guessed this system had cost Michael around $200 to build. There was one bad point though. It had the commercially available version of Envision 48 installed. Without the VR mod.
Yes, I certainly did not need the VR mod, or this computer, at all, but it did irk me that we had given Ralcon the VR roughly a month and a half ago, and they just sat on it. I thought it was such a high priority for them.
Whelp, I could not change their behavior. I shut down the computer and then dove into a light VR. Only 30:1, and began designing the telepresence bot. It was pretty straightforward, just a standard, run-of-the-mill android body with basic sensory mapping and a holoprojector.
Nothing special, but the Q-link made it practical for the first time.
When Michael was not yet getting me, I now began working on the Apollo clone I had gotten. I had decided to call this new VI Chiron pretty early on. The changes made were pretty obvious.
I naturally removed Nathan Vandermeer as administrator and bound the new VI instead to me, Ben, and our bloodlines. And of course, I changed the scope of the VI. It was not there to educate a nation and had no direct control over the military. No, it was a VI of a corporation and was there to educate the willing.
The real treasure here was all the experience and information that came with the copy. Now we just had to push it through without the teacher’s union interfering.
But all in all, it was a pretty quick thing. Having nothing better to do and some time on my hands, I opted to reduce my compression and play a bit in my mindscape.
After what felt like a small eternity, Michael finally called. The meeting was to begin. Sure, I had only spent a bit less than 10 minutes in VR, but, well you know, compression.
I met him outside of my office and he led the way.
“And, what do you think?”
I shrugged.
“It’s an office. I can’t say I care much about the style, but it fits in with the rest of the corp.”
He laughed.
“Yeah, I can see that. The way you curl up in our library, you are much more the traditional type. I get you on that, but we had to be seen as an innovative, hyper-modern corporation. Old, dark, heavy wood furniture is not only expensive, but it also does not fit. Maybe when we are established.”
“No need to apologize. I understand it. And it isn’t as if I would be in there very often.”
By now we had reached a door labeled ‘Board Room’, but he stopped for a moment.
“I wanted to talk to you about that. You… have to be a bit more present. We, well, the employees, need to be able to meet you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“That’s what VR is for. Seriously, in a few months, a year at the outset, physical meetings will be the exception. Especially here. I thought we would give our administration the cyberware at cost. We should be paying them enough that the $1300 for an ultra-jack with cranial board does not impoverish them.”
“I am sure that in the future we will. But for now, physical presence is still needed.”
“About that… while I was waiting for you, I had an idea that might help here.”
I sent him the overview of the Telepresence bot.
“What is that? A bot? It doesn’t seem too advanced.”
“Nope, it is not. I suspect we could begin manufacturing it today if we wanted to take away the capacity from other things. There are only three things out of the ordinary on it. It has some basic sensory mapping, like for the hands and shoulders, it has a holoprojector, and it is remotely operated via Q-link.”
He looked puzzled for a moment, shrugged, and opened the door.
“Ok, I pass. What is it for?”
I snorted softly.
“It is a telepresence bot. A business person with a sufficiently powerful jack connects with it through the Q-link, sets the holo to his or her appearance, and is in a physical meeting without leaving where they are just now. The meeting can be in the next room, on the other side of the world, on the moon, or in one of the asteroid mines. No need to travel.
It might be an option to get expert service to distant places in an emergency quickly as well. Like a doctor, or an engineer.”
He sighed.
“Aand another novel product. And one that is obvious in hindsight as well.”
In the room, 11 people were sitting around a table appropriately sized for around 20.
Each of them had a plate with their name and position in front of them. It was not hard to find my seat, with the plate in front of it. I was seated directly to the right of the empty chair with Michael’s plate in front of it.
We both said hello and then sat down. After the people present greeted us in response, Michael softly rapped on the carbon-fiber table.
“Ok, we are all here. I present you with our Chief Technological Officer, Vivian DuClare. Yes, she looks young, but she has earned her spot here. Now, around the table, to my left is our COO, James Doyle” He pointed to a man around 30-35 years old, with short, brown hair, dark grey eyes, and a friendly smile on his face,
“CFO, Alena Sheppard,” an end 30, early 40 woman with metallic green hair and dark brown eyes, who looked as if she did not quite understand the concept of humor,
“the Chief Security Officer, Colonel Naveen Upreti,” he pointed at a man of clearly Indian subcontinent ancestry with salt and pepper hair, who wore something resembling a military uniform
“Chief Science Officer, Dr. Maynard Price,” a mid- to end-fifties African-American man, who looked a bit out of his league,
“Chief Administrative Officer, Tiffany Porter,” a mid-30s portly woman with her dishwater blonde hair in a severe bun,
“Chief Human Resource Officer, Margaret Shepard, no relation to Alena,” a end-20s, early 30s woman whose ancestors came from the Mediterranean, and who had a wicked smile on her face,
“Chief Logistics Officer, Kenneth Wang,” a bald, wiry Asian-American man of an indeterminable age,
“Chief Marketing Officer, Marcel Davenport,” he pointed at the mid-20s blonde man, who looked a bit miffed,
“Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Jessi Berg,” a mid-30s woman with auburn hair, and vibrant blue eyes, looking at me expectantly,
“Chief Legal Officer Eli Gardner,” a… I could not discern the gender of the person, though it was an extremely white, almost albino person,
“and last but not least, Chief Procurement Officer, Arnedra Perry, “ a willowy African-American woman with a, in my opinion simply wrong blonde wig or dye job.
They all waved at me when their names were called. It was Marcel Davenport who spoke first among them.
“So, that is our elusive CTO? Nice to finally meet you.”
Unfortunately, the way he said it, it was clear he did not quite mean it that way. And not just to me.
Michael sighed.
“Marcel, let it go. You could at any time have made an appointment with her, or just gone visit her.”
“Yes, but we all have to be here. Why not her?” Now he sounded petulant, while Michael explained patiently but strained:
“Because unlike you, she is a genius that just does her work. She works in her labs or VR most of the time.”
I was a bit confused.
“Am I missing something?”
Margaret answered me: “Yeah, Marcel has his panties in a twist because he is accustomed that the tech department being subservient to the marketing department. Oh, and please call me Maggy.”
“Vivian, and thank you. Why would the marketing department be the more important one? They are there to market what the tech department creates, or am I wrong?”
Marcel sneered: “Somebody has to tell you tech-heads what to create.”
Now I was really confused but let it go for now.
Not so Michael.
“That might be the case in corporations that don’t have somebody like Viv here in the tech department. But you just don’t try to direct her. Everything we are producing, and selling faster than we can produce, was something that she developed all on her own, without any marketing ‘guidance’.”
Marcel seemed to sulk but kept silent for now, and Michael continued:
“Now that that’s out of the way, let us really begin this meeting. Or are there any other questions?”
I could not help myself here:
“Uh, yes. Just for curiosity's sake, but why do we have a Chief Science Officer and a Chief Medical Officer? Wasn’t that all rolled in with me so far?”
Michael snorted, while Dr. Price looked like he wanted to vanish.
“We are building whole departments who take what you research and develop and make it into viable products. And we need administrators for that, or do you want to do it?”
When I could not keep my face neutral in face of this thought, he chuckled.
“Thought so. On the other hand, we can’t subject those people to Warden continuously. So I appointed administrators for the two areas.”
I shrugged.
“Oh, ok.”
He looked into the round.
“Now, in the last meeting, we talked about providing vehicles for the executive staff. After a bit of research, and consultation with Alena and Arnedra, I’ve come to the decision that we will standardize on Mercedes-Benz F 170 for the execs, a couple for the general pool, and then ABAS EB-235 for vice presidents and important managers. So, expect to get an F 170 in a couple of weeks.”
Interestingly, both Marcel and I raised our voices in protest. When Michael looked questioningly first at me and then at Marcel, I sighed and nodded to the marketing exec. He spoke right up.
“I get why you as CEO get the T model. Rank has its privileges and so, but why do we provide our tech officer with a T when the rest of us gets an F-model?”
Michael rolled his eyes, then took a deep breath and pointed at me.
“I don’t see a reason to waste money on an F 170 for me. I won’t use it anyway.”
As an answer, Michael snorted, while Marcel looked as if he had swallowed a lemon.
Then Michael spoke:
“There you have it, Marcel. We don’t provide her with a T 240. Hell, we don’t even provide me with a T 240. Those are all privately bought and owned. Vivian is rich enough to buy dozens of them, and she bought one for herself, my father, and me. I as CEO will be provided the same F 170 as all of you.”
Then he turned to me:
“For appearance sake, sorry, but it is necessary. Mine, as well as yours, will be unofficially put into the general pool.”
I was not happy, but I could live with that.
“Ok, fine. Can we really afford to buy two F 170 just for appearance's sake?”
Michael gestured to Alena, and she answered:
“Oh yes, we can. I don’t know if you have looked at our sales figures, but we make a profit, after taxes, of around $33 million, per day. $28 million of that is from the Q-links. Those things are insanely profitable.” She looked very pleased when she said that.
Tiffany piped up:
“Wait, didn’t those Mercs cost around $40 million per piece? So you are saying we earn more than what three of those things cost in four days?”
“Yup. We are on a very steep rise, people.”
Michael took back control.
“Now, on to new business. We need to decide what we will produce next.”
He looked expectantly at me, and I tilted my head.
“Uh, what?”
He sighed.
“I want you to list what you have ready to produce.”
“Oh, ok. I think I can get the security bots designed by tomorrow. The tests should not take that long. I think that is the next needed step. We can probably use the same facility for the telepresence bot.
Otherwise, I would say the cloning tech and the meat vats are ready technologically. But I think we need to push a marketing campaign for the vats before they will be accepted.
All the others need the big one first.”
I looked at Michael questioningly, and he took a moment to consider it before he nodded.
“Tell it. These are our execs. We need to trust them in that regard. Not that anybody with a sane mind would knowingly betray you on that point. They all know about Warden.”
I nodded and took a deep breath.
“Fine, virtually every other invention and technology that I have developed needs a NADA to make, so we can’t announce it before we announce the NADA.”
Dr. Price now perked up, while all the rest just looked confused.
Kenneth spoke nearly at the same moment as the good Doctor:
“Ok, I byte, what’s a NADA?”
Dr. Price on the other hand excitedly exclaimed:
“You made it work? Seriously, you have a working NADA?”
After a moment of confusion, Kenneth turned to Maynard:
“So, you know what this NADA-thing is? Care to enlighten us?”
“Oh, yes, yes. A NADA or Nano-Assembler-Dis-Assembler is the technical and scientific term for what is commonly known as a ‘replicator’.” Maynard made exaggerated air quotes when he said replicator.
Not that the others were particularly impressed. They all looked at each other a bit confused, and Marcel finally spoke up:
“Uh, what is so important in that? I mean, sure, all the big corps and most bigger nations are researching replicators. I don’t know if we are already at the point where we can waste billions on such blue-sky research, but ok, that is your decision boss.”
Michael shook his head sadly.
“You did not listen. She is not experimenting with it, she made it work.”
Marcel recoiled a bit.
“What do you mean made it work? It is a dream that techies all over the world won’t let go of. They insist on wasting trillions every year on that crap.”
I, as well as Michael rolled our eyes, and Michael answered:
“Make it work as, it works. It, or rather they are fully functional. They are quite easy and cheap to produce to boot. We could begin selling them next week.
By the way, the computers you all rave about were made with replicators. We have two of them in the basement right now.”
Jessi frowned:
“Really, but how? I thought the uncertainty principle makes them impossible.”
Maynard grimaced:
“No, of course not. A replicator works, in theory at least, by placing atoms. In macro-universal terms insanely precise, but on the scale of atoms, it is enough to ballpark it. The natural forces will pull the atom into the final position.”
He paused.
“No, what makes NADAs impossible is an engineering problem. We simply can’t build capable enough nanobots. We can’t squeeze enough sensoric, intelligence, and power into them. It is simply impossible.”
During his last statements, he looked expectantly at me.
“Dr. Price…” he interrupted me. “Maynard, please.”, I nodded, before continuing: “Maynard, remember what is our most profitable product? And then make the logical step.”
He looked puzzled for a moment, before I was nearly convinced a literal lightbulb had come on over his head before he facepalmed.
“Ooh, fuck, it’s so obvious. Of course, you use Q-links to move the computing and sensoric somewhere else. You only need the bare sensors and the rest is power and functionality. So simple, and obvious. God, I am so stupid.”
Michael snorted.
“Don’t be too far down. Remember, Vivian has worked on Q-links for months. You have for what? Two weeks?”
Marcel now looked very confused.
“Wait, you are seriously saying we have a fucking working REPLICATOR?. For real?!?”
Michael took a deep sigh and nodded.
“Yes, we do. And we won’t be in a position to release them quite now. We can use them, sparingly, internally, but for now, that’s all.”
“WHAT? WHY?”
Obviously, Marcel was not quite on the level, but Michael nodded toward Colonel Upreti.
“Colonel, what is your assessment of our military strength?”
The obvious soldier, stood up, at a very strict stance:
“Right now? Virtually non-existent. We have this rogue VI, that right now, everybody is afraid of, but if these replicators are really that important, it might not be enough to deter some hostile actions. I strongly urge you all to keep it silent for right now. At least until we have some sizable military.”
Michael nodded.
“And that is the reason why you are only learning about it now. Vivian invented them a few months ago. But they, along with the Q-link and the new cyberware, will be too big a temptation to the likes of Kawamoto or Ralcon.”
Colonel Upreti nodded at that.
“Was that what the talk about security bots was about? I have to say, bots are better than nothing, but the charging infrastructure will be a hassle and the relatively short battery life, and limited processor capacity will usually make humans a better choice.”
I nodded.
“Yes, I understand, but the bots are intended only as a compliment. They are an offshoot of the new combat cyberware that I am developing. Essentially, they are a combat cyborg without the organic parts.
The tests of the cyberware will take months, as I refuse to use new, untested, and potentially dangerous tech on humans. But we need security now.
But you are somewhat wrong about the capabilities. One of the pieces of cyberware I developed is a cybernetic digestive tract. It is less than half as big as an organic human digestive system but gets 80% more energy out of the food.
With a metabolic converter, we can literally feed the bots, and that will be enough to power them in low-power mode indefinitely, and even slowly charge the energy cells back up. Yes, when they have discharged their cells, it is usually better for them to recharge, but often they don’t need to.
And you are forgetting the Q-link. Processing power no longer has to fit into the bot. That means we can have a fully intelligent VI running the bots, and no jammer can interrupt that.”
The colonel looked at me for a moment, before he stroke his chin.
“Yes… that would probably change things about the bots. I assume you don’t intend to use your rogue VI for the control?”
“No. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I fully expect that Warden will produce a few battalions of the things for herself, but the bots here will be controlled by a controlled VI. That will obey amongst others you.”
“I see. Then we need to procure weapons for the bots. And of course, produce the bots themselves. I would also like it if we could come up with some anti-ship weapons. The bots will be good against infiltration and infantry, but grav-ships will pose a serious risk.”
I nodded.
“I will look into it. Maybe we can come up with something, but I need your help, or at least one of your men’s help to do it. I have virtually no idea what would make a good anti-ship weapon.”
All in all, the game developers were mostly satisfied with the situation. Sure, some were not quite happy with me being a Pure, but they were used to that by now thanks to Val, and as I heard a big part of the administration of the former Ralcon Game Studios.
Still, there were some things to talk about. Nothing that I thought was anything that I was needed for. I mean, I’ve given them access to Calliope and told them again that it would be best if they got jacks, but in the end, most of the rest was internal.
Sure, I gave the ‘New-Id’ studio everything that Warden had made from Doom for me, quadrupling the whole game in one swoop, but I had barely anything to contribute otherwise. Don’t get me wrong, I was indeed interested in the topic of computer games. But I had barely played any since 45.
It was just too… jarring, going from the fidelity and quality of a jack to what was programmed for a diadem.
That did not mean that I had no demands, though. One thing I insisted on was a VR fighting game with some sort of armor-piercing energy swords. Preferably with a full training program.
While my excursions into cybernetical combat had tapered off to almost nothing, I still remembered vividly how the armor-piercing MH7 that Mark had made for me had changed my use of guns in cyberspace. As far as I knew, I was the only jack who routinely used guns for it.
But with such a VR trainer and something that would convince my subconscious mind that a sword was indeed armor piercing… it would open up some options. That I could see such a game actually becoming a bit of a success was just the cherry on top.
All in all, after around an hour and a half, I decided that I was no longer needed at this meeting. I had a quick talk with Val and then left the group to talk among themselves.
Then I made my way to Michael’s office. On the way, I realized that I knew almost nothing about how this building was laid out. I knew where the office of the CEO was, of course, and I now knew this meeting room, but otherwise… not much.
I also knew that I had an office here as well. Somewhere. Not that I was ever there. It was something of an appearance thing I think. The CTO had to have an office in the HQ or something like that.
Not that it mattered that this was a provisional HQ and that I did my work almost exclusively in VR or in one of my labs at the fortress. Noo, of course not. Stupid thing.
Michael’s executive assistant, Tricia Sanders, saw me entering the anteroom and pressed a button on her desk, waving me to go right through.
The man himself stood up from behind his very modern desk and waved.
“There you are. It took you a bit less time than I expected, but all in all, still within the plan. Was everything all right?”
He gestured for me to sit in one of his visitor chairs, and while I sat down, I could not help to compare Michael's hypermodern steel and synth leather office furnishings with Ben’s much more traditional one. I could only guess what Ben’s furniture was worth, but it was definitely more than what I was seeing here.
It was also quite a bit more comfortable. On the other hand, real wood office furniture was hard to get these days. If I had to guess, Ben’s was created well before the great war.
“Sure it was. At first, there was the usual rigmarole about VIs, but in the end, they all accepted it. Oh, and of course, they needed to be convinced that I am somewhat important. You know, the usual stuff.
When I was leaving, they were neck-deep in a discussion about which old titles to remake and which not. Something about some settings not being that interesting.
I think the only one they categorically ruled out from the get-go was something called Fallout. From what they told me, I can understand it.
It plays in the post-apocalyptic aftermath of WW3, with destroyed cities, mutated animals, some sort of zombies, and so on.
Seriously, if people want to do something like that, they just have to go to the death belt and experience it live and in color.”
He nodded.
“Yeah, I can see that. I’ll have somebody give them Q-links to here. Maybe we should transfer Calliope here as well.”
I tilted my head.
“Do you mean the server or the program? Moving the server is, well you remember that it has 150 server racks of cooling, right? In addition to the single server rack of the computer and three racks of power supply. Moving all that is maybe a bit impractical.”
He nodded softly.
“Yeah, I see that. But… aren’t the processors the only thing that is not old tech?”
“No, not really. I took advantage of the 414 pm process in designing the mainboards and daughterboards as well. Also, I would like to keep my super Grendel. If you think you need one here, then build one by yourself.”
He snorted.
“Hey, I think that I won’t get Warden to give me the Grendels she produces.”
I shrugged.
“That is only a matter of time. What do you need a fully populated super Grendel at this time anyway?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Not that I don’t want one anyway. But at this time, the only use for one would be giving you access to it. Well, in time. Now, the C-suite meeting is in half an hour. Why don’t you go and inspect your office? I fear I have still a few things to do.”
When I did not move for some time, he raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.
“Is something wrong?”
“I am waiting for you to tell me where this fabled office is.”
Before he could answer, I heard Warden’s message:
“I can guide you there.” And I lifted my hand, forstalling Michael.
“Never mind, apparently, Warden knows the way.”
After staring at me for a few seconds, he sighed exasperatedly.
“Of course she does. Why did I ever expect something else? Fine, I’ll collect you when it is time for the next meeting then.”
“See you then.” With that, I stood up and followed the yellow markings that Warden projected into my vision. On the way out, I said a quick “Bye” to Tricia, and then walked all the way two doors down. Where a big sign proudly proclaimed ‘Vivian DuClare – Chief Technological Officer’.
I felt a bit sheepish. I mean, come on, I had been at Michael’s office a couple of times, but I had never even registered this sign. Unsurprisingly, it opened up from my biometric signature. Equally unsurprising, the anteroom was devoid of any assistant or secretary.
Yes, Michael had offered to hire me one, but seriously, all this secretary would do was delegate tasks to Warden anyway. And sit the rest of the time in an empty office without anything to do. Nope, I just kept Warden officially as my assistant.
The office itself was not that dissimilar to Michael’s. The same hyper-modern style of furniture, the same cabinet with some bottles that I assumed contained something I could not even consume, a synth-leather couch with a coffee table.
It was, of course, a bit smaller. And still a waste. Yes, I understand that Enki had to project a certain image, but seriously, I was just the tech gal. I doubted that anybody would ever want to meet me here in this office.
Naturally, we could never be too sure about that, but I had just the idea for that. A telepresence bot, with an integrated hologram projector. Then in case I was needed, and the person was unwilling or unable to enter VR, I could remotely operate the bot and would never even have to leave cyberspace.
After looking around the office for a few seconds, I shrugged and decided to see what type of computer Michael had put into the office. I was a bit ambivalent about it. On the one hand, almost anything would be a step down from Glory anyway, and my pride as a Jack would not allow me to go down too many steps.
On the other hand, within seconds, I could remotely connect to Glory at any given time, and any computer here in this room would be mostly a paperweight. Not that computers were in any way expensive.
When the display showed my very own creation of a firmware during the a tad over 10 seconds of boot time, I quickly realized that Michael had built at least one NADA here. Which of course made all the arguments about the costs of the computer moot.
The system sported the very best desktop tech I had created, but the cost increase compared to the bare minimum was… negligible. I think the difference between a Hyperion 3, and a Hyperion 12 1990G was somewhere in the range of one or two percent.
All in all, I guessed this system had cost Michael around $200 to build. There was one bad point though. It had the commercially available version of Envision 48 installed. Without the VR mod.
Yes, I certainly did not need the VR mod, or this computer, at all, but it did irk me that we had given Ralcon the VR roughly a month and a half ago, and they just sat on it. I thought it was such a high priority for them.
Whelp, I could not change their behavior. I shut down the computer and then dove into a light VR. Only 30:1, and began designing the telepresence bot. It was pretty straightforward, just a standard, run-of-the-mill android body with basic sensory mapping and a holoprojector.
Nothing special, but the Q-link made it practical for the first time.
When Michael was not yet getting me, I now began working on the Apollo clone I had gotten. I had decided to call this new VI Chiron pretty early on. The changes made were pretty obvious.
I naturally removed Nathan Vandermeer as administrator and bound the new VI instead to me, Ben, and our bloodlines. And of course, I changed the scope of the VI. It was not there to educate a nation and had no direct control over the military. No, it was a VI of a corporation and was there to educate the willing.
The real treasure here was all the experience and information that came with the copy. Now we just had to push it through without the teacher’s union interfering.
But all in all, it was a pretty quick thing. Having nothing better to do and some time on my hands, I opted to reduce my compression and play a bit in my mindscape.
After what felt like a small eternity, Michael finally called. The meeting was to begin. Sure, I had only spent a bit less than 10 minutes in VR, but, well you know, compression.
I met him outside of my office and he led the way.
“And, what do you think?”
I shrugged.
“It’s an office. I can’t say I care much about the style, but it fits in with the rest of the corp.”
He laughed.
“Yeah, I can see that. The way you curl up in our library, you are much more the traditional type. I get you on that, but we had to be seen as an innovative, hyper-modern corporation. Old, dark, heavy wood furniture is not only expensive, but it also does not fit. Maybe when we are established.”
“No need to apologize. I understand it. And it isn’t as if I would be in there very often.”
By now we had reached a door labeled ‘Board Room’, but he stopped for a moment.
“I wanted to talk to you about that. You… have to be a bit more present. We, well, the employees, need to be able to meet you.”
I rolled my eyes.
“That’s what VR is for. Seriously, in a few months, a year at the outset, physical meetings will be the exception. Especially here. I thought we would give our administration the cyberware at cost. We should be paying them enough that the $1300 for an ultra-jack with cranial board does not impoverish them.”
“I am sure that in the future we will. But for now, physical presence is still needed.”
“About that… while I was waiting for you, I had an idea that might help here.”
I sent him the overview of the Telepresence bot.
“What is that? A bot? It doesn’t seem too advanced.”
“Nope, it is not. I suspect we could begin manufacturing it today if we wanted to take away the capacity from other things. There are only three things out of the ordinary on it. It has some basic sensory mapping, like for the hands and shoulders, it has a holoprojector, and it is remotely operated via Q-link.”
He looked puzzled for a moment, shrugged, and opened the door.
“Ok, I pass. What is it for?”
I snorted softly.
“It is a telepresence bot. A business person with a sufficiently powerful jack connects with it through the Q-link, sets the holo to his or her appearance, and is in a physical meeting without leaving where they are just now. The meeting can be in the next room, on the other side of the world, on the moon, or in one of the asteroid mines. No need to travel.
It might be an option to get expert service to distant places in an emergency quickly as well. Like a doctor, or an engineer.”
He sighed.
“Aand another novel product. And one that is obvious in hindsight as well.”
In the room, 11 people were sitting around a table appropriately sized for around 20.
Each of them had a plate with their name and position in front of them. It was not hard to find my seat, with the plate in front of it. I was seated directly to the right of the empty chair with Michael’s plate in front of it.
We both said hello and then sat down. After the people present greeted us in response, Michael softly rapped on the carbon-fiber table.
“Ok, we are all here. I present you with our Chief Technological Officer, Vivian DuClare. Yes, she looks young, but she has earned her spot here. Now, around the table, to my left is our COO, James Doyle” He pointed to a man around 30-35 years old, with short, brown hair, dark grey eyes, and a friendly smile on his face,
“CFO, Alena Sheppard,” an end 30, early 40 woman with metallic green hair and dark brown eyes, who looked as if she did not quite understand the concept of humor,
“the Chief Security Officer, Colonel Naveen Upreti,” he pointed at a man of clearly Indian subcontinent ancestry with salt and pepper hair, who wore something resembling a military uniform
“Chief Science Officer, Dr. Maynard Price,” a mid- to end-fifties African-American man, who looked a bit out of his league,
“Chief Administrative Officer, Tiffany Porter,” a mid-30s portly woman with her dishwater blonde hair in a severe bun,
“Chief Human Resource Officer, Margaret Shepard, no relation to Alena,” a end-20s, early 30s woman whose ancestors came from the Mediterranean, and who had a wicked smile on her face,
“Chief Logistics Officer, Kenneth Wang,” a bald, wiry Asian-American man of an indeterminable age,
“Chief Marketing Officer, Marcel Davenport,” he pointed at the mid-20s blonde man, who looked a bit miffed,
“Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Jessi Berg,” a mid-30s woman with auburn hair, and vibrant blue eyes, looking at me expectantly,
“Chief Legal Officer Eli Gardner,” a… I could not discern the gender of the person, though it was an extremely white, almost albino person,
“and last but not least, Chief Procurement Officer, Arnedra Perry, “ a willowy African-American woman with a, in my opinion simply wrong blonde wig or dye job.
They all waved at me when their names were called. It was Marcel Davenport who spoke first among them.
“So, that is our elusive CTO? Nice to finally meet you.”
Unfortunately, the way he said it, it was clear he did not quite mean it that way. And not just to me.
Michael sighed.
“Marcel, let it go. You could at any time have made an appointment with her, or just gone visit her.”
“Yes, but we all have to be here. Why not her?” Now he sounded petulant, while Michael explained patiently but strained:
“Because unlike you, she is a genius that just does her work. She works in her labs or VR most of the time.”
I was a bit confused.
“Am I missing something?”
Margaret answered me: “Yeah, Marcel has his panties in a twist because he is accustomed that the tech department being subservient to the marketing department. Oh, and please call me Maggy.”
“Vivian, and thank you. Why would the marketing department be the more important one? They are there to market what the tech department creates, or am I wrong?”
Marcel sneered: “Somebody has to tell you tech-heads what to create.”
Now I was really confused but let it go for now.
Not so Michael.
“That might be the case in corporations that don’t have somebody like Viv here in the tech department. But you just don’t try to direct her. Everything we are producing, and selling faster than we can produce, was something that she developed all on her own, without any marketing ‘guidance’.”
Marcel seemed to sulk but kept silent for now, and Michael continued:
“Now that that’s out of the way, let us really begin this meeting. Or are there any other questions?”
I could not help myself here:
“Uh, yes. Just for curiosity's sake, but why do we have a Chief Science Officer and a Chief Medical Officer? Wasn’t that all rolled in with me so far?”
Michael snorted, while Dr. Price looked like he wanted to vanish.
“We are building whole departments who take what you research and develop and make it into viable products. And we need administrators for that, or do you want to do it?”
When I could not keep my face neutral in face of this thought, he chuckled.
“Thought so. On the other hand, we can’t subject those people to Warden continuously. So I appointed administrators for the two areas.”
I shrugged.
“Oh, ok.”
He looked into the round.
“Now, in the last meeting, we talked about providing vehicles for the executive staff. After a bit of research, and consultation with Alena and Arnedra, I’ve come to the decision that we will standardize on Mercedes-Benz F 170 for the execs, a couple for the general pool, and then ABAS EB-235 for vice presidents and important managers. So, expect to get an F 170 in a couple of weeks.”
Interestingly, both Marcel and I raised our voices in protest. When Michael looked questioningly first at me and then at Marcel, I sighed and nodded to the marketing exec. He spoke right up.
“I get why you as CEO get the T model. Rank has its privileges and so, but why do we provide our tech officer with a T when the rest of us gets an F-model?”
Michael rolled his eyes, then took a deep breath and pointed at me.
“I don’t see a reason to waste money on an F 170 for me. I won’t use it anyway.”
As an answer, Michael snorted, while Marcel looked as if he had swallowed a lemon.
Then Michael spoke:
“There you have it, Marcel. We don’t provide her with a T 240. Hell, we don’t even provide me with a T 240. Those are all privately bought and owned. Vivian is rich enough to buy dozens of them, and she bought one for herself, my father, and me. I as CEO will be provided the same F 170 as all of you.”
Then he turned to me:
“For appearance sake, sorry, but it is necessary. Mine, as well as yours, will be unofficially put into the general pool.”
I was not happy, but I could live with that.
“Ok, fine. Can we really afford to buy two F 170 just for appearance's sake?”
Michael gestured to Alena, and she answered:
“Oh yes, we can. I don’t know if you have looked at our sales figures, but we make a profit, after taxes, of around $33 million, per day. $28 million of that is from the Q-links. Those things are insanely profitable.” She looked very pleased when she said that.
Tiffany piped up:
“Wait, didn’t those Mercs cost around $40 million per piece? So you are saying we earn more than what three of those things cost in four days?”
“Yup. We are on a very steep rise, people.”
Michael took back control.
“Now, on to new business. We need to decide what we will produce next.”
He looked expectantly at me, and I tilted my head.
“Uh, what?”
He sighed.
“I want you to list what you have ready to produce.”
“Oh, ok. I think I can get the security bots designed by tomorrow. The tests should not take that long. I think that is the next needed step. We can probably use the same facility for the telepresence bot.
Otherwise, I would say the cloning tech and the meat vats are ready technologically. But I think we need to push a marketing campaign for the vats before they will be accepted.
All the others need the big one first.”
I looked at Michael questioningly, and he took a moment to consider it before he nodded.
“Tell it. These are our execs. We need to trust them in that regard. Not that anybody with a sane mind would knowingly betray you on that point. They all know about Warden.”
I nodded and took a deep breath.
“Fine, virtually every other invention and technology that I have developed needs a NADA to make, so we can’t announce it before we announce the NADA.”
Dr. Price now perked up, while all the rest just looked confused.
Kenneth spoke nearly at the same moment as the good Doctor:
“Ok, I byte, what’s a NADA?”
Dr. Price on the other hand excitedly exclaimed:
“You made it work? Seriously, you have a working NADA?”
After a moment of confusion, Kenneth turned to Maynard:
“So, you know what this NADA-thing is? Care to enlighten us?”
“Oh, yes, yes. A NADA or Nano-Assembler-Dis-Assembler is the technical and scientific term for what is commonly known as a ‘replicator’.” Maynard made exaggerated air quotes when he said replicator.
Not that the others were particularly impressed. They all looked at each other a bit confused, and Marcel finally spoke up:
“Uh, what is so important in that? I mean, sure, all the big corps and most bigger nations are researching replicators. I don’t know if we are already at the point where we can waste billions on such blue-sky research, but ok, that is your decision boss.”
Michael shook his head sadly.
“You did not listen. She is not experimenting with it, she made it work.”
Marcel recoiled a bit.
“What do you mean made it work? It is a dream that techies all over the world won’t let go of. They insist on wasting trillions every year on that crap.”
I, as well as Michael rolled our eyes, and Michael answered:
“Make it work as, it works. It, or rather they are fully functional. They are quite easy and cheap to produce to boot. We could begin selling them next week.
By the way, the computers you all rave about were made with replicators. We have two of them in the basement right now.”
Jessi frowned:
“Really, but how? I thought the uncertainty principle makes them impossible.”
Maynard grimaced:
“No, of course not. A replicator works, in theory at least, by placing atoms. In macro-universal terms insanely precise, but on the scale of atoms, it is enough to ballpark it. The natural forces will pull the atom into the final position.”
He paused.
“No, what makes NADAs impossible is an engineering problem. We simply can’t build capable enough nanobots. We can’t squeeze enough sensoric, intelligence, and power into them. It is simply impossible.”
During his last statements, he looked expectantly at me.
“Dr. Price…” he interrupted me. “Maynard, please.”, I nodded, before continuing: “Maynard, remember what is our most profitable product? And then make the logical step.”
He looked puzzled for a moment, before I was nearly convinced a literal lightbulb had come on over his head before he facepalmed.
“Ooh, fuck, it’s so obvious. Of course, you use Q-links to move the computing and sensoric somewhere else. You only need the bare sensors and the rest is power and functionality. So simple, and obvious. God, I am so stupid.”
Michael snorted.
“Don’t be too far down. Remember, Vivian has worked on Q-links for months. You have for what? Two weeks?”
Marcel now looked very confused.
“Wait, you are seriously saying we have a fucking working REPLICATOR?. For real?!?”
Michael took a deep sigh and nodded.
“Yes, we do. And we won’t be in a position to release them quite now. We can use them, sparingly, internally, but for now, that’s all.”
“WHAT? WHY?”
Obviously, Marcel was not quite on the level, but Michael nodded toward Colonel Upreti.
“Colonel, what is your assessment of our military strength?”
The obvious soldier, stood up, at a very strict stance:
“Right now? Virtually non-existent. We have this rogue VI, that right now, everybody is afraid of, but if these replicators are really that important, it might not be enough to deter some hostile actions. I strongly urge you all to keep it silent for right now. At least until we have some sizable military.”
Michael nodded.
“And that is the reason why you are only learning about it now. Vivian invented them a few months ago. But they, along with the Q-link and the new cyberware, will be too big a temptation to the likes of Kawamoto or Ralcon.”
Colonel Upreti nodded at that.
“Was that what the talk about security bots was about? I have to say, bots are better than nothing, but the charging infrastructure will be a hassle and the relatively short battery life, and limited processor capacity will usually make humans a better choice.”
I nodded.
“Yes, I understand, but the bots are intended only as a compliment. They are an offshoot of the new combat cyberware that I am developing. Essentially, they are a combat cyborg without the organic parts.
The tests of the cyberware will take months, as I refuse to use new, untested, and potentially dangerous tech on humans. But we need security now.
But you are somewhat wrong about the capabilities. One of the pieces of cyberware I developed is a cybernetic digestive tract. It is less than half as big as an organic human digestive system but gets 80% more energy out of the food.
With a metabolic converter, we can literally feed the bots, and that will be enough to power them in low-power mode indefinitely, and even slowly charge the energy cells back up. Yes, when they have discharged their cells, it is usually better for them to recharge, but often they don’t need to.
And you are forgetting the Q-link. Processing power no longer has to fit into the bot. That means we can have a fully intelligent VI running the bots, and no jammer can interrupt that.”
The colonel looked at me for a moment, before he stroke his chin.
“Yes… that would probably change things about the bots. I assume you don’t intend to use your rogue VI for the control?”
“No. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I fully expect that Warden will produce a few battalions of the things for herself, but the bots here will be controlled by a controlled VI. That will obey amongst others you.”
“I see. Then we need to procure weapons for the bots. And of course, produce the bots themselves. I would also like it if we could come up with some anti-ship weapons. The bots will be good against infiltration and infantry, but grav-ships will pose a serious risk.”
I nodded.
“I will look into it. Maybe we can come up with something, but I need your help, or at least one of your men’s help to do it. I have virtually no idea what would make a good anti-ship weapon.”
