Chapter 23
Aboard the Oregon
Juan Cabrillo and Max Hanley were in the engineering office poring over a post-action technical analysis following the Oregon’s encounter with Linda Ross’s drone attack.
The two senior officers were drilling down into the performance of the systems, not their crew, who had executed their duties admirably.
Given the outcome of the battle, there was no question Cabrillo and his team needed to figure out how to harden the Oregon’s radar and comms systems against electronic countermeasures.
Even though they had known Linda’s drones would launch an electronic countermeasures attack, her drone systems were able to read and decipher the Oregon’s encrypted channels in real time and break through them with relative ease.
Those drones were, in effect, flying hacking machines.
But that was a highly technical problem for another day—a problem Murph and Eric would tackle once Murph got back from his vacation.
“The upgraded power plant sure did fine,” Max said. “Looks like a thirty-eight percent increase in overall power and an eleven percent increase in top-end speed.”
“That’s even better than we’d expected,” Juan said.
The vast improvement in the Oregon’s magnetohydrodynamic propulsion system during the Malaysian refit resulted in radically increased power, performance, and capabilities throughout the ship.
They had begun their propulsion refit by turning back to one of Juan’s favorite subjects at Caltech, computational fluid dynamics. The calculations and resulting design changes wouldn’t have been possible without the Oregon’s Cray supercomputer.
The first change they made was to alter the geometry of the system’s flow channels to minimize turbulence and maximize flow efficiencies. They also added cascading accelerators to optimize thrust.
They also introduced a pulsed power supply, which created rapid high-intensity bursts of power rather than merely a continuous electromagnetic field.
In addition, they significantly upgraded the system’s high-frequency electromagnetic coils.
This created an even more powerful plasma field that ionized seawater and stripped away free electrons with far greater efficiency and speed resulting in a massively larger electric current than the previous system.
All of the extra electrical energy was either directed to the Oregon’s massive Jet Ski–styled impellers to drive the great vessel or stored in the towering new banks of supercapacitors, which powered several systems including—and especially—the new laser-point defense and electromagnetic pulse cannons.
To further help improve speed in the water, changes were made to the Oregon’s hull.
Frictional drag was reduced by applying dimpled superhydrophobic coatings that reduced energy loss in the wake.
The bulbous bow configuration was improved to enhance flow and reduce wave resistance at higher speeds, and the stern was streamlined to minimize wake and drag.
To take advantage of the new higher speeds and power, Max and Juan added movable flaps—like airplane ailerons and elevators—as well as additional interceptors and trim tabs to optimize the hull’s angle of attack in the water, while simultaneously reducing resistance and increasing speed.
“Not crazy about those cannons redlining,” Max said.
“What do you think happened? Thermal overload in the power supply unit?”
“Could also be the pulse antennas short-circuiting, or feedback loops in the fire-control circuits. Murph and Stoney are better equipped to answer the weapons stuff than me.”
“Have Eric nose around to see what he can find.”
“I’ll get him on that right away.”
Hali Kasim’s voice boomed through the speakers overhead. “Chairman, Mr. Overholt is on the line for you.”
“Put him through on speaker, Hali.”
“Aye.”
★
“Juan, my boy. Good of you to take my call,” Overholt said.
His affection was genuine, extending all the way back to the days when he had been Juan’s CIA handler.
Since leaving the Company, Juan had formed the Corporation with Overholt’s blessing.
The CIA hired the Oregon when the federal government couldn’t or wouldn’t take on certain missions.
“You’re online with Max Hanley,” Juan said.
“Mr. Hanley, I trust you are hale and hearty.”
“Fit as a fiddle. Yourself?”
“I’ve been roped into my first pickleball tournament. A charity event. I shall never live it down.”
“The pickleball or the charity?”
“Perhaps both. My brother-in-law is a docent for the Rotary Egg Beater Museum in Lick Fork, West Virginia. They’ve run perilously short of funds.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Hanley said with a chuckle.
“My understanding is that you are still located in the Pacific near the coast of Mexico.”
“Just departed Lázaro Cárdenas with a load of consumer packaged goods for a delivery in El Salvador,” Cabrillo said. “After we pick up Raven and Linc we’re heading out for our annual crew vacation.”
“Is there any chance you could alter your plans?”
“I dunno. My crew’s pretty worn-out. What’s on your mind?”
“There have been a number of disturbing reports recently about a mysterious pirate vessel sinking ships in the eastern Pacific.”
“So mysterious I haven’t heard a thing about it.”
“Survivors claim that specters and poltergeists were involved. It’s all nonsensical, but something’s going on out there. I was hoping I could get you to take a look around.”
“A ‘look around’ the Pacific Ocean? Might as well ask me to pick out a specific grain of sand on Waikiki Beach.”
“There’s actually some method in the madness, if you’re interested.”
“Sounds like a goose chase. Why don’t you re-task a satellite or send a Global Hawk for a look-see?”
“Those assets are hard to come by these days with Europe, Asia, and the Middle East boiling over.”
“I think we’ll pass.”
“I’ll pay your regular rate.”
“And miss out on Max’s famous barbecue luau? I don’t think so.”
“I cook a mean pig,” Max said.
“What if I double your rate?”
Juan and Max exchanged a look. The Corporation was a business, after all, and Overholt their most reliable client. He was also a notorious skinflint when it came to government expenditures.
“Must be important.”
“Most likely a tale told by idiots full of sound and fury but signifying nothing,” Overholt said. “Still, it has caused quite a stir in certain circles. We have no naval surface assets to deploy to the area. I’m hoping you’ll prove there’s nothing to it.”
“How long do I have?”
“As long as you’ll give me.”
“Seven days, max. We’re due to rendezvous with Raven and Linc about then.”
“I’ll take it. You’re approximately twenty hours away from the target area at maximum speed. I’ll send you the coordinates of all known encounters. Let me know when you’ve arrived on station.”
“Will do. Thanks for the business.”
“And while you’re at it, keep an ear to the ground. We’re hearing faint rumblings in the darker corners of the infosphere about a new AGI weapon coming to fruition soon.”
“Aren’t we years away from that?”
“We’re not close yet, but the Chinese are throwing everything they have at it. So are others. The whiz kids over at the Directorate of Analysis are getting rather jumpy about it. If you hear anything—no matter how harebrained or half-baked—let me know, pronto,” Overholt said.
“Of course.”
“Always a pleasure. Ciao.” Overholt rang off.
“Guess we’re going on a snipe hunt,” Max said.
Cabrillo ran his hand through his brush-cut hair.
“At least it’s a well-paid one.”
“What Overholt said about AGI gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“He’s right. There’s no end to the possibilities. Targeted genocide via bioengineered viruses. Creating urban firestorms by hacking into gas pipelines and electrical stations. Destroying ports and infrastructure by crashing or sinking oil tankers and freighters at will.”
Max shook his head, contemplating the implications.
“Suddenly, a snipe hunt doesn’t sound so bad.”