'City of Fresno'

[kdahm]

Just verified that the one in my desk drawer was still there.

I use it once or twice a year, just to stay slightly familiar. It's also a good thing to show to the young whippersnappers that think that a desk calculator is old school.

Designing a slide rule is easy. For the basic scales, just take the logarithm of the number in the base desired, then space marks out on the slide according to logarithm while labeling them with the initial numbers. Make two of them, face them to each other, and that's your slide rule.

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

City of Fresno #74

Arranging our rendezvous with 'Fresno' was an interesting exercise. 'Cooberra', out-bound, must gently accelerate towards a flip-over, then slow, halt, 'reverse' to match steadily braking Fresno's remaining in-bound velocity. Though, in-bound, we'd had the benefit of Fresno's speed, the meet-up would again need about thirty hours. The 'Null Plan' of simply waiting near the iceteroid for Fresno to arrive was not acceptable. Time was of the essence. Whatever, it gave me the chance to do some more training, enjoy the food, log several more 'On Passage' Dog-Watches.

As we'd kept clear of Fresno going by, it was stunning to watch while 'Cooberra' slowly overtook the again fully-lit star-ship. Kindly, Fresno had suspended braking for the duration of our local operations. With both Fore and Aft bridges crewed, 'Cooberra' carefully, precisely delivered the laden catch-cans and the gas-handling pod. .

I'd gathered from a comment by Ms. Betrys that this pod's lesser systems were to be run alongside the main process plant, significantly augmenting volatiles' through-put. To be precise, their combination should empty my lumpy fifteen kilo-tonne glean at least a dozen hours sooner. Thus freeing its can that much earlier to pair with the spare third for the next Tug sortie. Which would, they hoped, promptly ice-slice, collect two more twenty-five kilo-tonne wedges. And, with Fresno due 'On Station' near the iceteroid around then, plus no further need to capture wedges' modest in-transit out-gassing, the following fourth, fifth, even sixth gleans could be run so much faster.

Unsaid, we needed to be done with this iceteroid, continue with Fresno's tetrahedral mapping legs...

Finally, finally, 'Cooberra' approached, docked to the usual leg-port. Anne-Marie swarmed me with passionate enthusiasm. Sparing minimal civilities, she left Ms. Betrys to organise the waiting porters' tour, hauled me to our suite and rapidly littered that with our discarded clothes. After, though young, strong, and aided by the Berthing Pod's reduced 'gravity', we barely found the energy to slither into the en-suite, get clean, dry, then collapse onto the lowest bunk...

"A dozen kilo-tonnes of water !" Anne-Marie whispered as my distracted wits and wrung body slowly re-booted. "A dozen kilo-tonnes !!"

"Uh-huh," I agreed. "And the ice-slicer template driver worked."

"So, you can focus on training," she agreed, rewarded me with another passionate kiss and rib-creaking hug. "That's my Jake !"

And, yes, one thing led to another, requiring a second, rather giggly visit to our en-suite. Some-when, our porters quietly delivered my 'Big Mac' crates to the corridor outside our suite.

After the quality and quantity of catering aboard 'Cooberra', getting back to Diner meals was grim. My 'Dog Watches' and snatched naps made this sad serving lunch. Upside, Anne-Marie's welcome company was an acceptable substitute for ketchup or pickle. And, yes, she could happily chat to me, as if unaware that the other diners were again hanging on her every word. "A dozen kilo-tonnes of water, Jake ! A dozen kilo-tonnes ! Perhaps half as much again ! Just from your manual glean plus one ice-slice ! And each such ice-wedge will bring us another ten ! We'll soon have all the 'Ponics lines up and running !"

"Went better than expected," I allowed. "Cutting template worked well, deeper levels were juicier."

"Jake, this glean even made dour Len Baxter smile !"

"Who ?"

"Second Lieutenant Baxter. Runs Fresno's Logistics," Anne-Marie stated. "Sign on her office reads, 'Logistics, Logistics, Logistics'. Enough said ?"

"Ah..." One of Those ? Some-where between conductor of a big parade's combined bands and 'Beach Master' in a war-zone, such logistics specialists tended to be more than a little 'strange'. At least she was, 'Our Kind of Strange'. The name was vaguely familiar from the social bulletins I skimmed. "Same 'Helen Baxter' who's started a Fresno 'Go' club ?"

"That's her--" Anne-Marie halted, gave me a side-ways look. "You play ?"

"No." I shook my head. My wits were not wired thus. And, as it was clearly my turn to play 'Straight Man', I warned, "Even with the extra water, still take a good while before the first 'Ponic crops are due...

"Will there be enough water and 'medium' to begin brewing edible algae ? For nutritious sea-weed nuggets ? Plankton broth to feed shrimp ?"

"I should think so..." Anne-Marie paused, shook her head. "But Fresno finding this juicy iceteroid was a real stroke of luck. I didn't expect we'd have so much water so soon. We've not even begun cultivating 'seed' cultures for Aqua-ponics, never mind planning or assembling a pilot plant..."

"Another problem," I cautioned. "Your 'Ponics lines are heavy, but their considerable mass is well distributed, securely anchored and braced. Any Aqua tank is a serious, serious 'Point Load'. Unlike a regular run's big 'Spin Drums', these Berthing Pods are simply not built for such...

"Nor are Evac Pods." I took a wary breath. "We may have to put them 'On Axis' in the Stages..."

"Which lack the convenient infrastructure to support them," Anne-Marie mused. "Hmm..."

"And 'ullage' issues ?" I shuddered, stabbing a hapless veggy-nugget with my spork. "Their 'Boost', 'Braking' and 'Barbecue Roll' slosh-damping ? Illuminate, gas, de-gas, feed, stir and harvest the brew ? Ugh..."

[jemhouston]

One problem helped, more problems as a result.

[Nik_SpeakerToCats]

City of Fresno #75

Anne-Marie had not organised a 'Service Wash' for our laundry, partly because there'd been too little to be worth-while. Adding our stale smalls from the last few days tipped the balance. Besides, I really, really needed to escape both our small double-suite and those few days aboard congested 'Cooberra'. Not 'claustrophobia', more like a touch of 'cabin fever'. I'd spent too little time on the iceteroid to un-wind. With my part-wash set running, I strolled along to the Stewards' area.

Sheila Lindstrom, on duty, gestured to her nearer wall screen with a certain glee. "Been watching the ice processing !"

My gleaned lumps, being briskly zapped, were out-gassing enthusiastically. I nodded politely, asked, "How do I go about booking your Community room for 'Hard Suit' training ?"

"Ah," she allowed. "You'll have to run that past Lt. Richards..."

"Huh ? Is there a problem ?"

"I'm afraid so." She gestured ambiguously. "A 'Certain Person' borrowed the room for a private 'Prayer Meeting'. Took three whole days for her pheromones to even partially clear. Had to cancel a gig the Gillespies were planning."

"Oh." 'Mater' Harris was, of course, within her rights to request use of the room. So, how to prevent her persistently polluting the premises ? How to set conditions for her that did not unequally apply to others ? I feared clever Anne-Marie or the canny Gillespies would have found, applied any elegant solution, had there been one. "So the temporary fix was to take allocation of the Community room from your authority ?"

"Yes."

"Aargh..." I shook my head. I'd been flagged to run this 'Hard Suit' training. I'd no wish to haul 'Big Mac' too far. I'd surely get the nod to use the Community room. So, how to prevent 'Mater' Harris going on a 'Rights' crusade ? If the Ship's Council was up and running, it would fall within their remit to progressively censure and sanction her for both the pollution and attempted 'Undue Influence' via her synthetic gland's pheromones. Given she could apparently increase emissions to 'sufficiently dose' a fresh environment or to, um, enhance 'Prayer Meetings', I had to wonder if she was just as addicted to the stuff as her 'followers'.

This added unwelcome complexity. The Convention's 'Freedom of Speech' and 'Freedom of Religion' tenets cut both ways: Rabble-rousing Demagogues, pushy Evangelists, fire-brand Preachers, self-declared 'Prophets' and their noxious ilk must tread warily lest they be robustly 'fact-checked', found wanting.

Back at the very start, when the 'Convention' was expanding from its genesis in a sea-port, Pete Jones, their first 'Special Convener', was sent to investigate a Book-brandisher. This Preacher's many, passionate sermons repeated implausible, if not outrageous claims. His growing 'Cult' exhibited bizarre, 'Un-Conventional' behaviour, had scant tolerance for Doubters and Dissenters, never mind Critics. After careful assessment of the Preacher's absurd, un-verifiable promises and rampant, circular illogic, Pete duly 'sanctioned' the perp. Mid-rant. With a bullet between the eyes. Three days later, when a group of desperate disciples tried to steal their Preacher's body from the chapel crypt, perhaps to claim a 'Miracle', Pete killed them, too. Without that promised resurrection, the disillusioned 'Cult' collapsed. Though Pete was reprimanded for 'Excessive Overkill', as ammunition was valuable, his precedent was adopted. It still stood...

But, of course, Fresno's Council was not yet active. And, yes, due 'Conflict of Interest' considerations, Anne-Marie must abstain from voting, as must the gig-cancelled Gillespies, and any-one else 'Mater' Harris had sufficiently riled.

"Hmm..." Against all that, some-times the clue to solving an exasperating, perhaps grid-locked problem lay in taking a side-ways look at the issues. "Hmm ? Ms. Lindstrom, may I use the room Comms ?"

"Surely..." She watched as I composed a polite message to Lt. Richards, cc'd to the Stewards and nascent Ship's Council. Regarding use of this local 'Community' room for 'Hard Suit' training ? In my professional opinion, such required a 'sufficiently clean' environment. To prevent contamination of essential 'Hard Suit' sensors and recycle equipment, of course, of course. Especially as Fresno currently lacked the facilities to reliably purge / re-work / re-process / re-manufacture / replace such technical arcana...

"So, I must formally request that 'Hard Suit' trainers, trainees and other users of the designated room do not attend wearing, bearing or otherwise emitting any persistent perfumes or similar 'Volatile Organic Compounds'. I estimate this unfortunate restriction must commence a week before the training sessions begin, and continue to the end of the series. Which, sadly, given our circumstances, may be 'Open Ended'..."

"Mr. Kinson..." Ms. Lindstrom was clearly fighting a severe attack of the giggles. "You are a wicked, wicked man !"

"When riled," I admitted. "You think it will work ?"

"Three ways," she estimated, giving me a 'High Five'. "Three effin' ways..."

[jemhouston]

That's how you handle a rules player, out rule them.