Star Granger Season 2 - Chapter 6
Thoughts
"speech"
"Goa'uld speech"
SG SG SG SG SG SG SG
March 14th, 1999 – Moon base
"Tally-ho!" I hear my father from the front seat. "Wooohoo!" he enthuses, while 'Fankie' is crawling over the moon face, 10,000 feet up, and slow as molasses.
In March!
"Nice pass" I remark dryly.
"It's the moon face," he says. "makes everything look slower than it actually is."
"Daddy, I really love you, you know?"
"But, I sense a 'but' in there," he deadpans.
"If you'd go that slow with the original aeroplane, it would have stalled." I tell him. "And it used to be a Harrier jump jet!" over our heads one of the two newer crafts fly-by. Immeasurably faster than we do.
Well, 24.7 times faster. Frankie does have a radar.
"Here, let me have the controls, or we'll never get back," I tell him, and we pick up both speed and altitude. Not that we're flying fast, or high. I take us on the moon's sightseeing route. You know: Sea of tranquillity, sea of serenity, sea of anguish, Eagle park. Frankly? Mostly just sand, rocks, and space garbage.
"You say it as if our goal is to be back for lunch. I just want to spend some time with you. It's getting to be a rare occasion."
Such a dear!
"You meet me more than we did during school days," I answer.
"It's not the same, dear queen of mine. We knew you were going away for school. You were such a special child; it was clear that schools nearby would not be good enough. And that's before we learned of magic. But, we had you all to ourselves for vacations and the summers. Now, you have a partner, flat, life, and work. You have an office with Thames view, and another one on the moon. You're all grown up and out of the nest, and we're so proud. But also, a little sad."
"Oh daddy," I can only say. This is one of those times when being strapped inside a fighter's cockpit, with cold empty space outside, gets in the way of a good hug.
We need a new shuttle design.
"Let's get back to the base? I'll get us some hot chocolate."
Near the hangar entrance, the 250 feet long, almost complete hull of HMS Hind is in her cradle, all bright and shadowed, under the direct cold sun, with robotic arms moving over her, welding pre-made Naquadah hull parts together.
Frankie and the two new 'Firebolt' fighters were thrown into the Naquadah excavation effort. Calvin calls them No-Wing fighters, but Harry's un-imaginative name for them was chosen as the official one.
Honestly, those are quite wrong for the job, but using improvised clamps, gravitation-controlled engines, and a cutting laser, we can carry about a fighter sized chunk of Naquadah each round. That improved our ability to chase after the smaller, farthest, drifting pieces by scale.
We are still learning with every effort. For example, the Firebolts taught us that space flight and combat are almost, but not quite, entirely unlike what we know on Earth as air combat. This came as a bitter lesson for the likes of R and Troy. They discovered that flying crafts in space is quite a different craft than flying aeroplanes in atmo, and this saying is pushing British understatement to the limit, but I'll get back to this.
At first, R was of the opinion that one needs to be a fighter pilot, or at least licenced to be allowed to fly anything. That idea crumbled under the pressing need for people to put in as much time in space as possible to collect as much of the Naquadah out there as they can before it drift too far away. Then there is the fact that Precious was mine, so Harry and I didn't really ask for permission. Come to that, out on the moon, a spacecraft is like a moped. I mean, how else can one pop over to the grocery shop, or to Eagle park?
Also, Precious was so easy to use. Every Oliver and Olivia could fly it, as long as they had some Naquadah in their blood or an enhanced white mouse, obviously.
Frankie was a sort of mixed-breed, just as its name suggested. But the new no-wings were a whole different type of craft. For a start, they had Earth designed controls, making them both more complicated and accurate to fly. That led to a whole discussion about the right way to control a space vehicle. This one is ongoing. It also led to the need of having some kind of instruction and authorization structure in place. After some debate, it was decided that everyone will take some 10 shifts out, with experienced users for the first couple of flights, then the last one with either R, Troy, or Kaden, before they could go out on their own. That's when R was humbled, but we'll get back to this too.
Also, Calvin had a new targeting system installed. Did you know that Goa'uld fighters just don't have one? By the look of things, they just fly around and try their best.
There was another heated debate about targeting too. How far are we targeting? R and Troy are used to fighter planes using guns for very close range of a few hundred yards, and missiles for up to two hundred miles, or about. Up in space, sensors can engage targets from millions of miles out, but missiles are just too slow to be of any use. Apparently, one needs to be at their target's throat to do anything about it, and that, as Kaden puts it – is barmy. We need better weapons. They're working on it, but it will be years before any prototype is ready for testing, and No-wings are only a stop-gap testing platform in any case.
Calvin exploited the fact that sensor data, in space, is clear from any interruption. Also the fact that plasma pulses have a much higher velocity than either bullets, or missiles, to offer accurate targeting for as far as three miles out. With some testing, he says, he might be able to improve it more. Kaden reckons this is still ludicrous.
The thing is, Calvin added a nifty training suite on top of his targeting computer and wanted to try it out on his last qualification outing. He superpositioned stolen code from one of his favourite simulators on top of the targeting computer to offer two training games. The first is your regular 'kill as many X-wings as you can' shoot. The other is more interesting. It would randomly mark pieces of the debris field as the enemy, and the pilot would have to destroy (meaning – mark with the laser) all or as many of those items he can as quickly as possible before he's hit.
'That's what this rubbish design deserves' Calvin answered when Harry complained about the targets.
The point of this drivel is to tell you that when he got back, we all learned that he received his qualification from R, and trashed her in both scenarios.
Fuming is sometimes an understatement.
March 14th, 1999 – Battersea Power Plant
"We have a meeting?"
I enter Keira's lab to find Fleur, Kazuko, and that annoying Jeremy guy, she added to her team. 'Not the mind to develop breakthrough science, but the person to make that amazing science actually work', Keira explained when he was signed in. 'Sometimes, that's the most important part,' Calvin teased her, back then.
Effective, but annoying still…
"I'm going with Fleur through your experience at Glastonbury, and wanted your point of view?" she says, and switches on the emitter on her table.
Still amazing, when not showing a knight trying to kill us.
Fleur's memory of the cave plays in the air in front of us.
"There!" Keira states and stops the playback a few seconds after the gold appears.
There?
"I've seen those few seconds dozens of times, and I still have no idea where the treasure came from?"
This is so embarrassing. Two years now, and I still haven't gotten over taking magic for granted. And I knew the cavern wasn't magic!
"I've compared it to other forms you girls use to make things disappear, and I yet to have any theories." She huffs.
Kazuko shrugs – she made huge strides into Alteran technology, but we're still only scraping the surface. "It's not Apparition," she says. "It works through micro wormholes, and whatever comes out, looks as if it's spat out of the focus point and expands. Like ink dripping into water?" She explains. "Whatever happened with this treasure – that's not it."
"Dr. Carter would have loved to see you Apparate around," Keira remarks. "Shame those American Tossers got her first." Keira remarks. "I'd love to have her on my team here."
I need to talk with R about this.
"Not a Portkey either," Fleur joins the debate. "Those too have a 'shifting' appearance effect. Neither House Elf magic – that makes sound and has a smoky effect."
"Cloaking? Invisibility?"
"All the ones I know of leave the object in place to stumble upon," Kazuko remarks.
"Right, and we were parading all over the place too much to miss it."
"Nor was it some shrinking/enlarging combination, for the same reasons," Fleur adds to the list, and shrugs.
"Sorry, but why am I part of the time wasting, again?" Jeremy scorns.
I do my best to stop myself from eye rolling. Just why did we agree to him joining?"
"So you will have an Idea, when the time comes? Maybe offer a contribution?"
Kazuko has the least patience for him.
"All right, we're taking this the wrong way," I say. "The Alterans and Merlin weren't wizards (Merlin forbid!), or else wizard kind would have been centuries ahead in knowledge, and all this wouldn't have been interesting. Alterans were scientists and engineers – We should think that way."
"And then, see if magic can give us a hint," Kazuko agrees.
"All right, imagining science fiction's science once more." Keira sighs.
Imagination is the only weapon in the war with reality.
"May I please be excused?" Jeremy pleads with her. "We are working on new controls for No-wings on the moon, and they really need me there?"
He's denied again. "Sit, listen, and try to contribute," she instructs him. "In a constructive way, if you please."
"What do you want me to say? It's either molecular transportation, dimension shifting or some sodding phasing technology," he complains. "Does it do us any good? The first one would be nice, cause I'll be able to build it without stupid limiters, and replicate alcohol whenever I can't do actual constructive work."
"Do you think you can merge dimensions, without noticeable effects?" Keira asks Kazuko.
"Not that I know of? Hyperspace has a noticeable opening. Expanded space just kicks everything in then out, when collapsed."
"Or crush everything down," I say, in reminiscence of an experiment we had, which went very wrong.
Stop being macabre?
"Fidelius is the same – pushes everything in it into this dimension. But, that's just the way we use magic?"
"And who's to say that's the way it must work? Just think of the variety of ways we use electricity to make light, or communicate," Kazuko scoffs. "At least we can put aside it being 'out of phase' with reality. That really sounds like fantasy."
"So that leaves us with much better transportation tech than the Goa'ulds are using, which is quite realistic." Keira sighs. "Any Idea?"
"Did you look over all the things we put into storage again?" Fleur asks.
"Yes," I answer, "and didn't find anything of interest. There's this log device that still feels as if it hides most of itself from our perception. That's 'probably a communication device', R doesn't allow us to touch, till we know what we dial and who's on the other side. And this emitter," I point at the one on the table.
This is embarrassing…
"Didn't you find anything else?"
I lower my head in shame. "Listen, it has been almost two years ago. Harry and I were children then, soon to be secondary school dropouts with a primary school level of normal education, and bugger all understanding of the real world.
"Language!" Jeremy reprimands me.
Put a sock in it
"R already bit our heads for it, but we've outsourced it?"
"What? Who?!"
"Goblins," Fleur simply says.
Jeremy looks at us like we're raving bonkers. "Wot, Hobbit's, under the mountain goblins?"
Fleur has, understandably, no idea what he's talking about.
"Not sure about Tolkien – he was all wrong about elves, and quite off the mark regarding Dragons. Goblins do live underground, but they are bankers nowadays."
He's speechless!
"What we did was ask our bankers, who also specialise as magical treasure hunters, to consolidate and convert a treasure of gold, we couldn't possibly move ourselves. We took out everything we could recognise as technology and let them dig to their greedy heart's content. Thing is, if there was any technology missed, be sure it's already melted and turned into goblin made cutlery and jewellery."
Now Kazuko looks at me like I'm off the trolley.
"Any Idea how Transporting works?" I ask Keira to change the direction of the conversation.
"Sure," she says. "It disassembles you to your molecules. Probably subatomic particles. Scan those, sends the pattern to the other pad, and reconstruct you back, good as new – Seth swears if one gets there all right. Doesn't mean we are any closer to making one of our own. Certainly not an improvement on the ring design. I'd love to have my hands on a better design though. Any different design, come to that, will be helpful in understanding this technology.
"Another question – if the treasure was transported in. Where was it transported in form?"
Very good question!
Kazuko follows me out of Keira's lab.
"Can you please find the time to let me see this place?"
Right, still need the brace, or Precious, to get in.
"Sure, we'll schedule something up. Say, are you making any progress with anything?" I ask her.
"The emitters, actually." Is the answer. "We can't recreate the tangibility of the hologram, or anything fancy like that, and certainly can't replicate the mind connection, but as long as we keep humble, we can create impressive holograms, using images or videos. 3D is a bit harder though. Not for the emitter, but for the computer running it."
"Interesting. Think it's time for a new startup?"
She smirks.
March 19th, 1998 – Hogwarts school of witches and wizardry
"Professor?"
Feels so strange to walk into this class again. Keep trying to remember if I have any dues.
"Miss Granger! Lovely to see you, what brings you to this dreary castle this weekend?" Professor Babbling is happy to see me again.
"Harry wanted to watch some Quidditch. Maybe grab a pick-up, after the main game is over, if possible. He has very few opportunities to fly lately."
What with Molly being her over loving self, and the moon having no air…
"Mainly, I wanted to meet with you. I may have an interesting offer. That, and I've heard that the tea here is to die for."
She chuckles. "Had to see his girlfriend's last game?"
Wot?!
"It takes two to tango" I'm saying lightly, playing with the delicate diamond ring on my left hand.
"Oh my, seems like the famous Hogwarts rumour mill is less accurate than it used to be," she laughs.
"Only to be expected, since both Parvati and Lavender graduated last year," I remark dryly.
That makes her laugh out. "You certainly were a special year."
"Sorry Professor, apparently I have to put on a little show at the stands, so I'll cut to the point of my visit," I smile. "Do you remember our discussion from my last visit about Magic collection and storage?" Surprisingly enough, she does remember. Even skimmed over it again since I've kindled her interest.
I take one of the small crystals out of my bag. No more my schoolgirl beaded one, but a Gucci Tote bag, purchased in Paris by Gabrielle, and professionally enlarged and divided by Kazuko. I take out one of the crystal connection bases as well.
"Do you have a simple Rune scheme to use as an example? Preferably Norse." Unsurprisingly, her 'simple' is over my capability to understand at a glance. Nevertheless, the charging point is clear, and not fearing a dangerous scheme from my Professor, I connect it to the crystal. In a second, the class, along with everything in it, turns pink.
Oups! Hope this scheme isn't permanent.
"Err, do you have a 'Finite' rune ready, par chance?"
Gobsmacked…
"Is this?" she hesitantly asks.
"Here's my offer," I'm all business now. R would be proud.
After killing me for outsourcing Alteran technology…
"This crystal holds a magical charge. It's quite low at this stage. I'm willing to pay you a thousand Galleons in advance," I say as I lay a contract and quill in front of her, "only to have a good look at it. If you can find a way to either recharge the crystal, or create a new charged one (Don't have high hopes for that second option), well, you can see from the contract that money will not be an issue for you after that." I smile thinly.
She signs it with a shaking hand.
Getting better at this!
"Well, it has really been a pleasure. We should do this more often." I tell her, smiling warmly. She is one of my favourite professors. "Kazuko says 'hi'," I add. I get to the door, then a thought stops me, and I turn and walk back in. "Sorry Professor, but can I borrow this?" I ask, pointing at the colour changing scheme. "How hard is it to switch the colour?"
"Goodbye Ms. Granger," She whispers when I finally walk out of the room. Still a bit shell-shocked.
She'll get over it…
The three broomsticks is full with green dressed school children. Some excited, few dejected, most got over it.
Ginny has certainly not gotten over it.
We sit at an outside table, doing our best to soak up heat from the weak Scotland sun. The little quaint village, in contrast, looks a spectacular combination of white snow, blooming greens and blinding blue, under the bright sun. Warm Butterbeer is a wonderful beverage for these kinds of days, though mulled wine, or vin chaud, as Fleur calls it, would have been just perfect. I strike a very distinctive figure, with my high flat boots, long straight grey anorak, grey wool beret, delicate sunglasses, and a light pink Gucci bag, standing on the table in front of me.
Thank you, Beatrix!
I was even more noticeable, calmly climbing the green stands, covered with green flags, full of green dressed students – all watching the two green adorned Quidditch teams, fighting for the cup. Apparently, the head girl, seeker, and captain of the Gryffindor squad, missed the Snitch the first time when everything turned green. Then missing it a second time when I reached my fiancé and tenderly kissed him, for all to see. Was this a bad time? I'm so sorry…
Meh, McGonagall will learn to forgive.
Harry is amused, hugging me for warmth, greeting the people visiting, amicably congratulating the shocked Slytherin captain for the game well played and a cup well won.
"Dear," I tell him. "We really need to say our goodbyes. I have a date with the girls, for snooker and cocktails this evening, and I have promised daddy we'll be over before."
Some looks can kill, you know.
But Ginny's is not one of those.
Huge shout to flyboy38, my beta, who takes the time to make sure the story is a much better read.
Also to Dalwolf For doing Brit-Picking for, well - you all, and help my British.
Cheers!