“...please see the corruption resistance results in table 14-b...”
“Yes, the speed and conductivity is less than Mechanist Standard. That is THE POINT.”
“The working life of a circuit is indeed a fifth of the normal circuits. But if you will inspect page 247, third table, you will see they can also carry five times the load of a normal circuit during that term. The net effect is the same...”
“Yes, basic math does agree that if you use the same number of circuits, you will be able to handle five times the max load that the current Beacon can sustain, and conversely, also handle five times the stress at current loads. You are aware that is the primary selling feature of Vakker-tech, right?
“If you want to question the Coronal’s testing results, I can put you directly in contact with the parties who performed them. I am sure they will be fascinated with your opinion of their aptitude at their sacred duties.
“You are also welcome to emulate the Capacitor design. Please. I encourage you. I am absolutely certain you will enjoy wasting your time and money trying to equal the resistance of the Rantha Corps product, as you have proven before.
“Ah, yes, I have an Umbran directive here concerning increasing production of high-stress firing relays. They are concerned that I do not have access to a higher degree of production technology. Would one of you fine sirs be capable of redressing this lack? If not, I’ll send it back up the Order of the Fallen Moon with my regrets that release of such technology was proscribed by the Guild.
“Yes, adding these Capacitors will allow you to decrease the human element involved in managing the Beacon to a minimal level. The Mentats, who designed the Metaconcert Ritual the Beacon is emulating gave the specific production of how the effects of using block units of PP instead of Nimbus siphoning would perform. Page 314, tables 1 through 15.
“Oh, you didn’t know the Beacon was based on a Metaconcert? Page 464 gives the derivative Ritual, although it is only properly understood in telepathic linkage. I’m sure you can see the parallels in the psionic circuits of the Beacon...
“If you see the circuit overlays and patterns on page 597, you can clearly see that all Mechanist-mandated rune circuit patterns are being followed precisely. The additional rune circuits are to maximize the performance and corruption resistance of the circuit, and as table 14-b-II clearly displayed, did not detract from the characteristics of the circuit at all.”
“Alien technology? My license for this technology clearly indicates that it was known among humanity over fifteen THOUSAND years ago. Are you questioning the authenticity of your records? The archived files are clearly displayed on my purchase certificate. Are you also incapable of reading Tellusian Standard?
“Your inability to duplicate the results of Rantha products is not my concern. You have the end product, I use Axiomatic Modular Tech in production, and you have reviewed my production line and facilities, as have the Umbrans and the Coronals. You are welcome to review them again. I have a permanent observer on station from the Umbrans. You can have coffee together with them.
“Oh, Vak-standard coding requires a higher level of complexity than TL 8 coding allows, so I had to invent my own. Yes, I did invent it. Ah, pages 771 to 847, performance differences with standard AMT Codes Level Six through Ten, compared to Vak-Coding at the same. The lower performance level is unacceptable, and if you will look at pages 873 through 950, the Corruption Resistance falls significantly when using Mech Coding, as you can clearly see. The Coronals mandated that I use Vak-Coding.
“The schematics for all circuits are displayed from pages 973 to 3,927, of course! Inspect them, please! All connections are AMT format, naturally. There are some minor additions to the hardware to allow easier access and replacement, of course...
“Your questions are done? Excellent, shall we move right on to price and the contract, then?”
---------------
The Mechanists who maintained the Beacon naturally didn’t care about showing up in person, and they really didn’t want me to pollute their optics, anyways. A Boole meeting was perfectly fine from their standpoint, where their cyberized selves would naturally have an advantage.
Of course, thinking I couldn’t handle the accelerated pace of the Boole just because I hadn’t replaced my logic centers with machinery was wishful thinking on their part. Their Boole presences were sharp and powerful, but mine had depth and solidity theirs just didn’t, and I could tell it made them uncomfortable. They didn’t like cybermancers much more than any other kind of psion, after all. Using psi to command the machine was almost like blasphemy to them.
I couldn’t do that, but Mental Stats were what they are, and a cyberlink could still send out a 50 Charisma. Despite their logic centers, I was still pressing on them, and they were finding it very hard to resist me, especially since I was doing something they wanted to happen.
I ended up with an initial contract for Vakker circuits, relays, and the Capacitors to work with them. All Capacitors were in multiples of 15, starting at 45 PP and ranging all the way up to 1500 if they really wanted so much power held in one place.
The first day they were installed, three dozen Beacon psis came to work for me. They were Marked, their accumulated Karma instantly filled the Mark to +1, their Intellect rose, and with it the bottleneck to advancing went away. Mental triggers flickered, and Levels went up.
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Their Markspace was private among themselves and me, and the idea of a private telepathic connection that required no power definitely intrigued them. It was soon hopping with their conversations with one another, while I kept them separated from the greater Marktell for the moment.
Keen to do more, they came and were put to work making psionic circuits and psicraft... profitable, high-demand stuff they were usually barred from by their lack of skill and power, since all long-lasting permanent psiware required you to be a Five.
Still, Crystal Verje and Facets only required a Three, and the simple stuff, like basic healing, was always in demand. These things all had to be charged up, too, and simply being able to do that repeatedly now meant they had worth.
Crafting, charging items, and still being able to do their duty with the Beacon, as well as make a lot more money, AND they were seeing improvement across the board as they advanced in Level... I had some very, very happy psions working for me, and they were increasing as rapidly as I could bring those Capacitors online for the Beacon.
I looked at the Vats with another two hundred and fifty-six of my daughters growing in them, and sighed.
My first generation of daughter Hags were Leveling like crazy, to nobody’s surprise. They weren’t necessarily displaying their golden claws or swords, but such were popping up sometimes on the Boole. The number of Marked, Opened, and Awakened being processed had exploded with them available, and that had accelerated the opening of more factory space, both up and downspire. The demand for raw materials also meant working more closely with the Undergangs who processed most of them. So, like it or not, I was doing business with the Yazu for basic circuit boards, Skraelin for crystal and metals, and the Sweiss for parts.
Eh. They naturally tried to muscle me for better terms, seeing how lucrative the contract was. A bunch of the girls got pissed, did some work Underspire that got really messy and explosive and mucked up production, and there was a direct inquiry from the Coronals if there was some sort of problem going on that was threatening the production of their Vakker-tech, and did they need some help to deal with it?
I got a mild discount on materials as the new negotiators replaced the dead ones, and life went on. The girls chortled about the easy Karma and greedy fuckheads messing with us, and went back to hunting cannibal morlocks and oozes... and tidily prosecuting My Queen’s paper files, one by one.
---------------
“You, Termite, what are you doing here?”
I was heading to the top of Lawnspire, one of the larger, centrally located Spires, a place for the filthy stinking rich and their immediate vassals. This was my official test run for a Class IV Termite License, i.e. a Black Night Specialist.
All those sand wurm jaws, mutant wyvern heads, and scorpion claws added up, I guess. I could definitely do work outside the walls against some really tough stuff. Now was the time to see if I qualified for nasty people removal.
“That’s Tier IV Exterminatus Agent Rantha to you, Traffic Juris Sergeant Omer K12-YYYB.” I opened my eyes lazily, to look right into his through his helm.
He started to sneer, then thought better of it. My whole vibe indicated that I was not afraid of him, and he had to quickly check what a Tier IV Termite actually was.
“Uh...” his tone shifted quickly, as I went from a Termite to Oh Shit on the I’m-Fucked scale. “Uh, we have our own Exterminatus up here, Agent Rantha. Why are you coming to Lawnspire?”
“Gentlemen,” I replied kindly, “in any organization, there are places with competent people, and places with people putting in their time. Upspire is where Termites go to get fat and lazy, kinda like Juris retiring to acting as security chiefs for a blok, or something. I am here because there is something dangerous that needs handling by someone competent to do the task, and the desire to obey the local fashion code was not a criteria.” Black leathers, tats, but not a touch of chrome, too much skin. I obviously didn’t belong among the nicely-dressed people and their stylish cyberware on the tram cutting across the Spire’s manicured top, and I equally obviously didn’t care. Public transportation was for the public, just ask Traffic Control.
It went without saying that being a traffic cop was a plush job where the Juris sent severe underachievers or those about to retire. While technically they were Juris and could order me around, they could technically order around a tank driving on the streets, and it would ignore them, too. Threes messing with Tens was just not a wise thing to do.
“What’s the job?”
My eyes were closing, and I fixed them on the brash idiot addressing me again, obviously too used to getting his way.
“Not yours,” I replied in clipped fashion. “You want to know, you have your Precinct Captain talk to My Queen, who’ll tell him to fuck off, and that’ll be the end of it.” I flicked up the sealed warrant on my Band, let them stew over it and register that it was indeed official, and closed it again. “Tell your people to lock up their silver, a competent Termite is coming around to clean up their mess, and we wouldn’t want petty thievery to be part of it, now, would we?”
“Your attitude is unacceptable, Citizen,” the Juris traffic cop growled.
“Yours is accepted standard for the foot patrols chasing morlocks in the sewer tunnels of Khalgon Ward. Would you like to be taken away?” I rebutted cheerfully.
He started to say something, when his partner hit him on the arm. His power-tripping just wasn’t working on me, bullies needed to know when to let it go. Khalgon Ward was one of the major sewage-processing centers for the city, to the extent there were barriers keeping the stench in around it. Getting swept away there was specifically reserved for fuckheads who messed with the wrong people.
He growled to intimidate absolutely nobody, but shifted his eyes away. It was probably bad enough he was relegated to soothing the nerves of the high-income people of a Spiretop and couldn’t bully-whip anyone, but chasing Morlocks in Khalgon was a whole nuther level of miserable.
I closed my eyes and waited for my stop, which wasn’t far.
Black Night Specialist. It was a euphemism for hunting alien infiltrators, or renegade psis. Typically, the Mentats should be given a job like psi-hunting, but when it was sensitive, it was automatically assumed the Mentats would be compromised by multiple connections between different parties, and the job would be handed off to someone competent. Normally, they’d have to be a psi or psi-hunter cyborg, so as to be assured of catching their target, but a Null Psion, well, that was even better in My Queen’s eyes. He’d had no hesitation sending me out here, and I had no problem accepting it.
My Null was already past 40. I wasn’t worried about a Ten of any sort using psi on me, or a Warp Caster.
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Verje = Psionic Wands.