Slowly a massive chain began to click in the water, chunking away into the depths. As the submersible came up from its maintenance it took an efficient path back to its pod narrowly avoiding the chain. Larson shifted slightly in the craft only adjusting to the tilt, putting a foot up on the protective reinforced bubble glass at the front of the craft. He let the system do its work as he checked off the commissioning work he had done.
"Five minutes until connection", the drone's voice came through. Most of the "Slabs" had fully autonomous drones, about the same size as this one, but this was the "Press" drone. Now Exec drone as they called it. Was a fun ride, good for training the newbs, or impressing someone, but most of the work was autonomous these days. Larson didn't mind, he had begun his career on a Nuclear Submarine on the tail end of the "Phantom Fleet". Who needed a Nuclear option when a Leader couldn't come up to see the light of day. He missed his naval days, but didn't mind the focus on the head of the issue.
The drone came up 120 feet under The Slab and continued on its path, keeping a safe distance from the 320 Tidal Turbines, with a flow of .5-1.5m/s with tidal shifts the turbines captured the San Pedro Channel. Ahead 24 more massive chains forming the Gravity Pendulums were slowly being pulled in as the tides brought the floating platform down. A single pendulum in free fall would be like 94 tons of TNT going off. The power to run 12,000 digital consciousnesses came from Leviathan One. Roughly 450 MWs for this mid-sized plant. The whole contraption was supposedly a napkin idea written on the hills of Benedict Canyon or Holmby Hills. Larson couldn't remember. He wasn't from California and it seemed like every 20 feet there was some other name for the place.
"What’s your time?" a voice came through the Tether Coms, the small line running from the back of the submersible to the slab. "She’s coming in fine Brett, another 3 minutes." Larson called back smoothly after flicking on the response line. "He’s been waiti..." Larson clicked off the comms as he looked out the window. His eyes were still looking around the field for anything out of the ordinary. A number of chains were dropping. "What’s the current rate?"
"Pricing is at $1000 a Mega" the voice responded. The chains dropping sounded like a heart beat under the water. "When was the last service on Chain 9" he asked the service. "It looks off." "Visual inspection was done two days ago, drone 6, did a full Bell to Base examination" the AI Voice for the Operator which the men referred to as the "The Commish"
"Alright, lets do a gear check on the retraction system no later than tail end of the week"
"Noted Larson, will have the team take a look"
Shhhhhhh, with the precision of a billionaire's ride, the hatch opened up spilling any excess water to the edges so as not to get the passengers wet. His first foot barely making it out of the hatch and Brett started. "Larson, what took so lon.." Brett was silenced as the man beside him held his hand up.
"Commissioning, monthly inspection. You like to be thorough" The guest said as he nodded towards Larson.
"Why, yes." Larson responded as he reached his hand out. The man had on a flight suit, it was properly fitted.
"Navy?"
"Bangor"
"Kings Bay"
Brett looked confounded at the two men.
"What brings you to Leviathan?" Larson gestured back towards the crew area and the man proceeded before him.
"Tallord, I've been tasked with recruitment in my new role. Wondering the same as well for you" Captain Tallord retorted, but he leaned over and looked at the submersible behind the man. "But I think I know why" He turned to match shoulders with Larson as they walked on the metal walkway.
"I've been tasked with recruiting for a new type of long range expedition. It’s quite confidential" he said and pulled out a leather binder. He zipped it open slowly as he ducked under the bulkhead for the first water lock.
"I think all the cowboys are upstairs. Deckies" Slowly Larson started to unzip some of his suit preparing for the crew’s quarters as they approached the Citadel of the Slab. The central command tower at the center of Leviathan.
"Well that’s the thing, there’s not a lot of piloting needed. We need people who are calm under pressure and can withstand months or years of isolation." As they walked into one of the sortie waiting rooms Tallord gestured to a seat. Larson nodded and pointed at the coffee machine. "I'm ok"
"Suit yourself." With a few clicks an espresso was on its way for him.
"How do you feel about being uploaded?" the Captain said sitting down, he flipped the top page off of a small stack of papers.
"I think you already know" Larson said with his back to the Captain. Reaching up he found the cup he wanted. "If it’s on paper and you have the stack I think you know most of it" He fumbled around and pulled a small box of cookies that had been tucked away.
"Biscuit?" he asked, as he stepped towards the table holding the English treasures his coworker had brought back for him.
"Stumblies!, these honey delights." Tallord pulled one of the biscuits out and turned it over.
"Well, thank you. This doesn't make this part easier..." Tallord placed the biscuit down. "Sarah has cancer, we know you're working here to pay that off."
"Yes" Larson said as he sat down and took a long sip of his coffee.
"Well what about her son?"
"What about him?"
"Well you might be able to cover the cancer treatments, but she won't live long enough for you to cover much more. For her legacy."
Larson sighed, he pulled one of the biscuits out of the tin and took a bite.
"Let me see the contract" he gestured to Tallord.