A Shift in Priorities - Sequel

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To define it rudely but not ineptly, engineering is the art of doing for ten shillings what any fool can do for a pound.
(Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington)

Barth was a dump; and the school was awkward: wooden sheds, hastily erected, on a greenfield site. Karl-Hermann Leitloff had seen photographs of the prisoner-of-war compounds in the Great War. The barracks had looked just the same. Yeah, this type of hut was also found in the troop camps of the military training areas. Indeed, why change a proven design?

Anyway, the training was alright. One had learnt a lot about sojourn in space – and had familiarised with the spacesuits. Physical testing was complete. There would be a short break now, just a prolonged weekend. Thereupon, one would be lifted into orbit – for the real qualification. Of course not all trainees at once, but Leitloff happened to be among the first batch.

He was a junior certificated electrical engineer working for AEG. The company was sponsoring his kosmonautic formation – and his participation in Arx construction. Erna, his wife, wasn’t quite enthusiastic, but the extra money he was going to earn would allow them to build a house of their own. And, of course, taking part in the Arx adventure should be the steppingstone for a splendid career down here.

They said being hoisted up by one of these Dornier jumbos was a tedious experience. You, clad in your spacesuit complete with nappy, were herded into a DELAG Raumbus, together with twenty-four other folks – and had to sit there for hours. Then, you would be dumped at Raumkolonie, die old orbital station, and had to refurbish the beast. Well, he was going to experience all of it firsthand…
 

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Only very few men have the gift of thinking new and original ideas and of changing the traditional body of creeds and doctrines.
(Ludwig von Mises)

The tax data were encouraging. Although she – well, her government – had lowered the rates, the revenues had increased. That was the desired effect. The economy was on the upswing; and although the tax rates had gone done, the national tax revenue had risen. Gudrun was highly pleased.

Of course, the overall costs were enormous, but the finance markets were hurrying to lend money – for very economic interest – to the German state. It was impossible to refuse these kind offers. Hence, all assets counted, one had more money than needed. That left room for bankrolling new goals.

But what should one do? The space hype was declining, now that people were realising how long implementing everything was going to take. Electrification of the railway lines was well under way, as was the construction of state-of-the-art nuclear power sites. A basic data network was in place.

The armed forces said they – in principle – had what they needed to defend the realm and to deter whomsoever. More wasn’t possible, because of the manpower gap. Yeah, this was a real problem. Perhaps some of the surplus funds could be used to encourage having children. An allowance per child should do the trick. It might cause women to quit the job – and raise kids.

It would be a risky approach though. If you encouraged women to have children, they were no longer available for the job market. Therefore, it would only be a voucher on the future if the women had more than two kids; in fact, four or five, as had been the average before the Great War, would be ideal.

Allocating 25 marks each for the first and second child, but 125 for the third and 175 each for the fourth and fifth ought to provide the proper incentive. However, once you launched such a law, there would be no easy way out – if it didn’t work as desired. So, one better first checked the assumptions with a series of polls.

Was it a socialist scheme? Well, in a certain sense it was. But the market would not adjust the population number – as long as women remained indispensable as workers. You had to compensate them for leaving the working environment. Raising children had to become a job – paid by the nation.
 

Dain

Wait - Strauß already created an overheated economy. I'd have tought it would be pretty difficult to increase revenues even further.
 

rast

The curious task of economics is to demonstrate to men how little they really know about what they imagine they can design.
(Friedrich August von Hayek)

Observing Franz Josef was a memorable occasion to see frustration festering in a man. But Hanne Zülch felt no mercy; it was his own entire fault. The lazy bugger had blown it. She had seen him sitting in his office every day, doing nothing but reading the newspapers. Okay, his laissez-faire regimen may have been good for the economy. Yet, it wasn’t enough to have no idea – when you were fighting against someone with a plan. He still had been popular with the voters; the DVP had come out of the ballot as strongest party. In fact, he hadn’t lost the elections; he had lost the power game afterwards – because of his inactivity.

And all his antics after the fact had also come to nothing. The lady had soundly beaten off his attempts to regain power. She had been ahead of him in every phase. And she was becoming really popular, now that people had more money in their pockets – and the economy seemed to be investing come hell or high water. Yeah, the chancelloress was said to have a checklist she was ticking off. The secret was automation and data processing. She came from this industry. It helped saving workers. The assembly line, that American invention, was nice, but if the merchandise was assembled by machines it was nicer still.

The process had only started recently, enforced by the general lack of workers. And yes, zusies could control machines. The chancelloress kept stressing that point. And Rechenknecht was presenting zusies made for the job. It required investment, sure. But the bosses were fed up with hiring untrained aliens; they rather wanted computable machinery. And the lady was offering them the right incentives, that was doing the trick. – Hanne could see that Franz Josef was losing ground all around. Even in the DVP, where the ancient xenophobes were gaining strength again. Yeah, hard luck…
 

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O the idea was childish, but divinely beautiful.
(Friedrich Schiller)

The reactor was critical; power was on. Professor Klaus Fuchs had started the feeding field. It was working; protons were arriving, said the measuring device. Of course, there was no little sun, but that didn’t matter. Okay, and now the holding field… And buzz, the feeding field went amok!

Fudge! Holding field off – the feeding field was – slowly, very slowly – returning to normality. Fuchs studied the measurements. Yeah, heavy interference… If one changed the angle here and the level there… No, didn’t work; now both fields went amok.

Jochen Zeislitz was watching the performance from up close. This play might take some time… The professor had switched off the feeding field – and was now starting the holding field. That seemed to work. And now the feeding field… And buzz!

The professor was mumbling something and fine-tuning the controls again. No, didn’t work. What now? Modulating the generators… How long was that going to take? Several hours… Fine, a nice opportunity to chat with Herwig Collmann and visit SMS Dora’s gym.
 

rast

I am too much of a sceptic to deny the possibility of anything.
(Thomas H. Huxley)

There was a problem, a grave problem. One of the foreign workers had raped a girl, a child of eight years. Two of his colleagues had seized him during the act – and perhaps had prevented the worst. The kid was in hospital in Groningen now; the Al Zayeree in – makeshift – jail here at Nieuw Hoogeveen. Of course, the mood hereabouts had gone down to the bottom. One had been so glad to have the alien labourers around – and been very satisfied with the work they were doing. And now that…

On the one hand, Anne Robbins was glad it hadn’t hit Patricia, her daughter, but on the other hand it was of course a terrible tragedy for the Kruiswijks, the afflicted family. And it was a hard blow for the hopes of a splendid future. There were voices, very loud voices, calling for the removal of all aliens. – Anne was still pondering the issue. Her Makambo experience told her it had been inevitable that something like that had happened. But it was only one evildoer; the other twenty-four blokes had done nothing bad. Two of them had, in fact, saved the life of Alida Kruiswijk.

She had interrogated the perpetrator and had interviewed several other workers. They didn’t know each other from North Africa. They had only met the first time for transit to the Netherlands. The perpetrator had only sobbed. He had been overcome by desire. But why were girls allowed to run about almost naked? – Yeah, there was a deeper problem with cultural dissimilarity. The other workers had acknowledged that they were irritated by a number of local customs.

It was not so that Nieuw Hoogeveen was a cradle of licentiousness, but for these chaps it apparently looked like so. Unveiled women, with naked legs and indecent dresses… Alcohol abuse everywhere and anytime… But the women were the worst temptation. – Indeed, they had come as bachelors. Nobody had thought about their sexual needs. – It was the Makambo story once again. The fight for the women had led to the ultimate downfall of the venture to revive Great Britain. Anne knew it; she had been there.

So, yes, it should be best to send them home again. What should one do with the evildoer? The Netherlands didn’t have capital punishment, except for the military and in times of war. But that would be a problem to solve for the judges in Groningen, not for Nieuw Hoogeveen. A pity to lose able working hands… Yet Anne Robbins felt confirmed. Her Makambo experience had warned her against the experiment. And the hunch had been correct.
 

rast

What is reasonable is real; that which is real is reasonable.
(Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel)

The professor – and the motley crowd of technicians in his wake – was still tinkering with the generators – for the fourth day in a row. Jochen Zeislitz had already contemplated to return to Hammerhorst. After all, pilot training was still going on – if only for the reserve crews right now. Well, his deputy surely was capable of handling that. What was going on here, however, was due to determine whether pilot training had a future at all.

In case Professor Fuchs didn’t succeed in making these bloody magnetic fields work coherently, there would be no Phönix, no expedition to Alpha Centauri, no nothing. This here was outright crucial, hence he better stayed close to the action. Okay, he couldn’t aid the professor, this generator adjustment was beyond his horizon. But once things were working as they should, he certainly would pilot the test rig. It was plainly obvious that the professor was not apt for such a task.

0.1 c was a tremendous velocity, almost 30,000 kilometres per second – or 100,000 million kilometres per hour. Jochen had already piloted the Hammer at a similar speed; he knew he could manage. The professor had conscientiously designed the controls , but he was in no way prepared for what was to come. It would be good to have him nearby – in case something went awry. But he must not be allowed to climb into the pilot’s seat. If this widget should ever fly…
 
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rast

Travellers do not produce railways, but conversely, railways produce travellers.
(Theodor Herzl)

One had a decision: the proposed expedition to Saturn had been endorsed. Generál Tikhonravov had been authorised to plan and execute the mission. There would be no package deal with any elections. Kántsler Prosinyuk had said he wanted Russian kosmonauts on Titan; that was the objective. Science and economy could be trusted to follow the lead. – Accordingly, plans were now under development at Achinsk.

Indrik Zver, Khors and Svarog were going to travel to Saturn. Stribog would be detached for handling Dragotsénnost. That was the general idea. – The Saturn expedition was due to take two and a half years. Hence, meticulous calculation of supplies and stores was indispensable. Space aboard was limited. And stocks envisaged to last for thirty months were coming along as quite a huge heap of stuff. Khorosho, the logisticians certainly were going to develop a viable conception.

Another issue was, of course, the travel time. Twelve months out and twelve months back – plus a sojourn of six months in the Saturn system, it never had been done before. A sophisticated physical training plan – and sufficient gym capacity – was required. Aga, and something against boredom was needed... Generál-mayor Ivan Drubchev, the designated fleet commander, had studied the German reports about the Hammer’s voyage to Jupiter. Boredom had been a major problem – at least on the way out…

Deystvitelno, once the course was set, nothing was going to happen for a very long time. And turnaround at mid-voyage was only a matter of a couple of hours. So, how did you cope with twelve months of inactivity?
 

Dain

Another important issue is that landing on Titan is not trivial as it has an atmosphere thicker than Earth that is extremely cold. Not to mention the active methane-based weather cycle. Standard equipment built to operate in vacuum is not going to be up to the task.
With heat convection in a dense super cold atmosphere in play, heat loss would be a concern for any landing vehicle and especially potential EVAs in space suits. Basically they are landing in super Siberia, so they'd need to design hardware specifically suited for the job.
 

rast

The first man gets the oyster, the second man gets the shell.
(Andrew Carnegie)

It had become official: the Russians were going to send an expedition to Saturn. NASA hat announced it yesterday. Well, good luck, thought Helga von Tschirschwitz. This, at least, was – or ought to be in any case – classical kosmonautical work. Climb into your rocket and go there – even if it’s a long way to travel. Helga liked the idea. It was quite different from what currently was going on at RRA.

Okay, relocating Arx construction into Earth’s orbit was a clever move, no doubt. But at the same time, people were starting to realise how long construction of this super jumbo was going to take. Small wonder that many designated colonists suddenly were bottling it. Twelve years were a long time indeed. So, would there still be 40,000 colonists? Or might Arx be reduced in size? Nobody knew right now. But obviously, the space hype was fading.

Yeah, there was a new government – not entangled with the hoary parties of the Bismarck era. And the economy was booming, offering ample opportunities down here – without being looted by the tax authorities. Why then abscond to space? So, yes, Arx might shrink to an ordinary deep space station accommodating perhaps five thousand colonists. That wouldn’t be so bad – except for the industry who would lose jobs on a grand scale.

Well, with enthusiasm for space adventures on the recess, it might even mutate to a modest research station. Who could tell? – People had rioted for being admitted to space. Now, with all opportunities open, they suddenly were losing interest again. Strange world… But that was real life. The government wouldn’t force folks to go to space, would it?

And there was the Phönix… the other showcase project. But right now, Professor Fuchs was still struggling to make the magnetic fields work coherently. Without these fields the bird would be dead… And then? She had asked Director Kammler, but the man had only snarled.
 

rast

Over me, about me, closing in on me… the cold, the stillness, the silence, – the infinite and final night of space.
(H. G. Wells)

Raumkolonie was a cramped environment. It had been designed to accommodate up to twenty-four kosmonauts, but that number had never been achieved during the active life of the station. Consequently, a lot of the available space had been converted to serve other purposes. Now, you had twenty-five trainees and seven trainers trying to bumble through the assorted clutter. Yeah, and there were four sealed containers – containing nukes, said the rumour mill – waiting to be picked up by an NPP.

Karl-Hermann Leitloff was glad not to suffer from space sickness – or rather to have only suffered ephemerally. Moving under zero gravity was still tricky, but inside Raumkolonie you always found something to latch on. However, today it was scooter training. And that was something else entirely… Not because of the scooter, but because it was taking place outside…

The scooter had been explained and shown during instruction at Barth, but – of course – there had been no flying lessons. That was to be the subject of today’s activity. Leitloff thought that going EVA alone was hair-raising enough. It was one thing to float inside the station – and a different matter altogether to gape into the void. They had warned him it would be scary. And it was…

The trainer, Mühlpfordt, was an old RRA hand with experience in Mondstadt enhancement and Raumschmiede construction. But he certainly was not an apt teacher. It obviously didn’t appear to him that his pupil was just about to soil his pants. Leitloff felt unable to move. He opened his mouth, but the shriek wouldn’t come out. Mühlpfordt was uttering something, but he didn’t understand it. There was… nothing… absolutely nothing…

When changing from Raumbus to Raumkolonie, a big flexible tube had been used inside which the trainees had moved along hand over hand. Perhaps it would have been better to leave the tube off. That would have allowed the trainees to get used to the void. Or to realise that space was utterly horrible – and one better asked to be sent home again…
 

rast

I don’t pay good wages because I have a lot of money; I have a lot of money because I pay good wages.
(Robert Bosch)

As the usage of zusies was increasing progressively, the Telefunken data network was proving to be a gold mine. One had already begun to enhance it into the areas away from the trunk lines. Local companies – no matter the trade – were crying to be connected. For Doris Zülch, head of the Telefunken customer service, this meant she had more dealings with folks who urgently wanted to become customers than with established customers.

She needed more people – that was evident even to the executive floor. And she was getting them, mainly women. The personnel department had developed special job offers for women. – Many women were loath to work fulltime, but they were attracted by part-time jobs. It enabled them to care for their kids – and to keep earning money. In addition, Telefunken was offering workplace kindergartens and daycare centres. Yeah, and flexible working hours.

In Doris’ experience, the part-time girls were working more than their due share. Most of them were on halftime, but in these four hours they were grafting nonstop each and every day. It made them very productive. – She was glad to have them. It was a clever model. The lady chancellor had pronounced the intention to introduce higher child allowances. Telefunken had aptly anticipated such a move. Women working half-time and reaping increased allowances could live a comfortable life – even without a husband. And if they were married, the family should prosper even more.

Indeed, mobilising the entire population required measures enabling women to work and to raise kids in parallel. Most people were not as well-heeled as Hanne, her sister, who could afford a child minder for her little Oskar. And it was, of course, extremely unproductive: two women, one child, what a waste. – Was it unfair to men? Doris didn’t think so. Fathers were important for raising sane kids, that was true, but the brunt of the work lay with the women. Rewarding them for this extra effort was quite okay.
 

rast

Well done is better than well said.
(Benjamin Franklin)

Max Sikuku was in a state of indefinite agitation. He didn’t like the situation in general – without being able to point to tangible issues. It felt wrong. Middle Africa didn’t get ahead; one seemed to be caught in a kind of endless loop. Okay, the flipping Mobutu Seppel was working hard to introduce the universal nanny state; that, however, had been predictable – and hence was no surprise. And it was not so that Seppel’s venture could be called an unfettered success. Resistance was intense – and by far not limited to MALU.

But – whatever the final outcome – it was like mildew, paralysing the country. The Snowpushers were surging ahead, closely followed by the Ivans – and Middle Africa was stagnating. Even Sikuku Enterprises was not really free from skid marks. One had SIRAB and SIKOS dealing successfully with RRA, correct, but they were thriving on old Snowpusher technology, in one case even bought second-hand from the Indians. A quagmire…

Seppel was not doing illegitimate things; even Kizwete, his chief snoop, had to concede that. But he seemed to be spreading soporific wherever he went. Seppel the sandman… What could one do? Strengthen the forces resisting him? The military wouldn’t accept support from Sikuku Enterprises, nor would the higher administration, the haughty studied pettifoggers, but the farmers should be willing to take subsidies, they were always ready to reap in such benefits…

But that would only scratch at the surface. The real malady sat deeper; something was rotten in the state of Middle Africa…
 

rast

I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past.
(Thomas Jefferson)

Alright, the professor seemed to have managed fine-tuning the generators. All three fields were working in parallel. That was wonderful, but, of course, a dry run. The little sun was still off. Jochen Zeislitz understood that it could be activated without that the test rig darted off immediately – if the holding field was in the correct position.

The fusion trigger kit was in place. Should one fire it? The professor, fed up with tinkering about, was keen to get started. But Jochen – and Kapitän Collmann – were cautioning against rashness. The professor – and the pack of engineers in his wake – had been crafting for a fortnight non-stop. A relaxative break should be in order – before things really turned serious.

Yeah, and one had to talk the professor out of piloting the widget. The good man was in no way prepared for what was to come. He had zero experience in guiding fast moving objects. He hadn’t even a driving licence for motor cars… But he was obstinate to steer the rig himself.

It was his brainchild… He was the only one who really knew how it worked… But he was no trained kosmonaut. He could sit right beside the pilot and whisper directly in his ear, but he should refrain from trying to do it himself. It meant invoking disaster.

One should – after the break – ignite the little sun – and thoroughly test everything again. Only then should Jochen, undoubtedly the best man for the job, climb into the pilot’s seat. And only then one would make the fur fly…
 

rast

Always try to keep a patch of sky above your life.
(Marcel Proust)

Karl-Hermann Leitloff had eventually regained his composure – after having sought refuge inside Raumkolonie. Because of this occurrence – and a couple of other quite similar ones, the training schedule had been modified. One was now practising EVA. The procedure was dire enough still; the void hadn’t changed. But at least one had the opportunity to get accustomed carefully.

Mühlpfordt, the trainer, was guiding him. Obviously, the man had realised that the trainees were in no way prepared for what they had volunteered. Being smart in theory was one thing; gaining practical experience in space was something else entirely. Leitloff was surprised how perceptive the bloke had become. Familiarising with the void was a difficile matter.

The nothing was as frightening as before, but being talked to continuously helped. You weren’t alone. And you were told what to do. – You were tied to a rope, hence couldn’t get lost – hopefully… And there was not only the void; Earth was also there, below you, when you turned around. Leitloff whooped when he lost contact with the station, but the rope stopped his movement after a few metres.

Mühlpfordt explained how he could come back – without tearing at the rope. Yeah, it was possible. The small jets of the spacesuit could cope with such minor distances. – After a few more exercises, Leitloff suddenly found that he had lost his fear of the void. Yeah, it was possible to subsist in this strange environment. One could even work…
 

rast

Anxiety is the handmaiden of creativity.
(T. S. Elliot)

One was in operation, but the operation was slowing down. The trainees needed more time to get used to sojourn in space, said Prerow Control. It did affect – a little bit – SIKOS, because they had been assigned to shuttle supplies and spares. More supplies – and less spares – were required for the crew currently in orbit. Okay, the new crew would also have needed supplies, hence the changes were subtle. But it was okay; one extra sortie per training unit meant unexpected extra cash.

At first, Rudolf Ntussu had been disappointed because SIKOS had not been selected for passenger transport – the more modern DELAG Raumbusse had been chosen for this task. But okay, the Mota Choohas were clones of the Große Schwestern, which had load bays for cargo – and no neat seat rows. And shuttling supplies ought to be a panic-proof job, as was proven by current developments.

A lot was going on in the Snowpusher universe. They had decided they could construct their Jupiter station in Earth’s orbit. That should mean a whole lot of new jobs for SIKOS. He had already advised the Nabob to order four more Bhaees in Kolhapur. – The four ordered Mota Choohas had already left the Hindustan Aircraft Ltd. site and were now travelling to Germany in a cargo vessel. At the same time, however, the Snowpushers were realising that the space hype was dying down among the populace.

There were talks that the Jupiter station had to be reduced in size. Rumours still, admittedly, but why build a monstrous structure when there were no colonists – or not enough of them? Well, it would not affect the extra jobs for SIKOS, but rather the duration of the engagement. Therefore, buying four additional Bhaees should still be alright. The nabob had been informed about the changing circumstances. Right now, though, both the Jupiter station and the interstellar craft were going to be constructed, offering bright prospects for SIKOS.
 
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