RAEFF (Jim Able: Offworld Book 6) by Ed Charlton (great books to read .txt) 📕

“You were part of the QA organization.”

“I found it. I found their hidden flaw.”

“In the course of your duties as part of the QA organization, you found a flaw. Was that a mistake in the plans? Are you suggesting that the Praestans Rapax make mistakes?”

Marhan snapped his jaws again. “Of course not. They don’t splash when they piss! The flaw is carefully inserted, deliberately drawn into those plans. They lie! They are beneath contempt. I went, and I bargained my silence with them. My silence—and they do what I want. My silence against their precious reputation! I have them shaking in my paws!”

He held up a paw, and Jim noticed the long opposable thumb. It was rooted farther back from the other fingers than the thumb on a human’s hand. He also noticed the retractable claws that he realized would make a physical encounter with this creature extremely dangerous.

“Okay, what flaw, Marhan?”

Marhan waited and smiled, his teeth showing yellow at their roots.

“Now you ask. I know the weight, the mass, the position of every part in every craft. I, Ernot Dirl Marhan, knew they had lied. They had...agh! What does a scribbler like you know of such skills!”

“Weight control? You calculate the craft’s center of gravity, the point about which it will pitch and spin.”

Ernot Dirl Marhan blinked and said softly, “Yes.”

Jim continued, “The finished craft’s center of gravity didn’t match the one marked in the plan?”

“Subtle, very subtle—less than a claw’s end.”

Jim looked at him without speaking and without glancing at Tella. If he had caught Tella’s eye, he would have started to grin, or worse, to laugh out loud.

Jim steadied himself and continued as before. “Your role in the QA organization was to verify the center of gravity for each craft?”

Marhan nodded.

“And you reported the discrepancy to your superiors?”

Marhan spat again but said nothing.

“...who ignored you.” Jim wrote on his pad and waited to see if Marhan had anything to add.

“You then pursued the problem until...what? Did they throw you out?”

“No, Earth-monkey, my name will not be attached to the deaths of a thousand crews. My superiors stain their own families with blood! I pursued the problem to its source. For my silence about their ways, the Praestans Rapax are to give me access to communications media, to weapons, to whatever I need. When the fleet is defeated, I will lead my people!”

In the short silence that followed, Tella quietly said, “You would leave your pack in the hope of leading all packs. It is a noble ambition.”

“Your opinion means nothing to me,” he replied without turning.

But both Tella and Jim could see from his posture that the compliment meant a great deal to him.

“So, the flaw, the flaw you found, the flaw that pushed off the COG by so little, what was it? Why should the Rapaxans care if anyone knows about it?”

“You still pretend they have not told you of this? Very well. The craft are silent. This can only happen if every movement, every vibration, every torque is dampened, suppressed, covered, or bled off. To do that through an entire construction eventually means you back yourself into a corner. Somewhere, the stresses and vibrations that are not being felt elsewhere have to come out. They show eventually—somewhere. The designs are clever. Hah! But there is one point—perhaps that is the genius of it, that it is only one point—that the energy is filtered and directed toward. This is the corner they backed themselves into. This is what I found. They insert a dense honeycomb, lined with a material that can absorb and eventually dissipate the combined energy diverted from the other parts of the craft—an energy sink. And where do the scum hide this sink? Do they conceal this weakness in their design? No, they advertise it. Their arrogance knows no limit! They place their maker’s mark—the name plaque—over it for all to see! They flaunt their own weaknesses in the faces of their customers!”

“How is this a flaw?” asked Jim quietly, scared to break the flow of information.

“You don’t know because you are an ignorant monkey! You know little of such skills as mine. I found it. I saw it there in the plans. There they say how big, how dense, what material it is to be made from. They lie; they trick. If you make it so, do you know what will happen? Do you understand anything?”

“Tell me.”

“Within an hour of flight, it will melt. It is too light, too weak! But they have placed it so that when it melts, it will be like a cork from a bottle. ‘Pop,’ James Able from Sol Earth, catastrophic decompression.” Marhan lunged forward, his claws gouging the tabletop, the bench toppling behind him. His snout was inches from Jim’s face, his breath hot and sour.

“All the crews, all the fleet...death! Death and death again!”

Jim remained still and silent, aware from Tella’s remark the importance for Marhan of pack loyalty. The pain of leaving the crews to their fate perhaps accounted for some of his bluster.

“So, the plans indicated a close-to-correct, but weakened, sink. It was enough only to put the COG out slightly,” Jim finally said, keeping his voice quiet so as not to add to Marhan’s emotion.

Marhan nodded and turned back to the bench and righted it. “Subtle, like all good lies. Close to the truth.”

“And they wouldn’t listen to you. That’s...” Jim shook his head.

“Don’t waste any pity on us. We do not need it. You now have heard my tale.”

“Thank you.”

Marhan growled quietly. Behind him, Tella gestured to Jim that they should adjourn outside.

“Please wait here while I consult with my colleague,” said Jim.

“Why?”

“I wish to decide...how best to make use of...your skills and knowledge, Marhan. Please give us a few moments.”

Marhan turned over his paw and began to lick fragments of tabletop from his claws.

In the corridor outside, Jim and Tella spoke in low whispers.

“He ‘builds a fleet of warships.’” Jim shook his head. “He’s a jumped-up weight control clerk!”

“He