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But what of a Kronos operating at its full potential rather than the miserable
one gigabyte of random access memory that we're capable of achieving with it?'
He paused and looked at his colleagues. 'What sort of uncontrolled monster
would a hundred such working Kronos chips result in? Or even a thousand?'
'Still not a problem,' Beverley reasoned. 'If there is not enough nutrient in
one Kronos, then there won't be enough in a thousand.'
Dr Pilleau sorted through some publications on his desk and handed one to
Beverley. 'That's one of Professor Danielle's papers. We supplied London
University with a hundred Kronos. She linked them together with a common
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nutrient tank feeding all the chips and got a 10 per cent increase in
processing speed using our standard benchmark tests.'
'Yes,' said Beverley, catching Carl's eye. 'We know all about Professor
Danielle's work.'
'She certainly caused a stir,' Dr Pilleau commented. 'There were articles on
it in Nature, New Scientist, any number of journals.'
'I think we should now duplicate her experiments,' said Carl. 'We ought to
know for ourselves what happens in large nutrient tanks feeding multiple
Kronos set-ups.'
It was agreed that Mace Pilleau should start work on the experiment
immediately.
After the meeting, Carl went out to the front car park just as Beverley was
getting into her car.
'Where are you going, Bev?'
'To see Toby Hoyle. I'll be out for the rest of the day.'
Carl ducked his head under the open gull-wing door. 'Look, Bev, I agree with
you that we should pursue the question of whether or not Marshall Tate is
using the Kronos.'
'He is,' said Beverley emphatically, touching the fingerprint recognition pad
on the steering wheel. The padded seat restraints whirred into the standby
position where they could snap down to grip her by the shoulders and waist in
the event of an impact.
'We should turn the whole investigation over to a professional research
organization, one that gets results,' said Carl doggedly.
Beverley started the Albatross's engine. The vehicle's computer voiced
objections to the door being open.
'Toby Hoyle is a professional organization and he does get results. Now if you
will excuse me - '
'The sort of results that come from breaking and entering. Bev, I really don't
think you should get involved.'
'The only way we're going to beat Marshall Tate is by fighting even dirtier
than he does! Just because you've got no stomach for a fight, doesn't mean
that I haven't! Now please stand back!'
'You're just being a stupid, stubborn, and over-emotional woman!'
The Albatross's door slammed down, narrowly missing Carl's head.
'I should've known!' he yelled above the roar of the engine. 'A woman can't do
a man's job because she can't think logically!'
Beverley's withering gamma ray treatment that she gave Carl as she burned
rubber leaving the car park left him in no doubt that she had heard his
parting shot.
Skit! Well done, old son. You really fucked up there.
Cursing himself for his rank stupidity, Carl collected Beverley's Laine Runner
belt from his car and took it to Mac£ Pilleau who was making rough sketches on
a Nanopad.
'Something I almost forgot,' he told the scientist. 'Beverley's belt seems to
have developed a fault. The stimuli and sensing hypo barbs are damaged. Can
you have a look at it sometime?'
'I'm going to be very busy if I'm to set up this experiment.'
'There's no hurry,' said Carl. 'The thing's not scheduled for production.' He
watched the drawing taking place on the Nanopad. 'How will you go about the
experiment?'
'I'll duplicate Professor Danielle's work as closely as possible. There'll be
a large nutrient tank feeding a hundred Kronos.'
'How about making it two thousand Kronos?'
The good doctor looked astonished. 'What? That would be crazy.'
Carl sat down. 'Have you got ten minutes, Mace"?'
'If it's important.'
Carl told Dr Pilleau all about Beverley's suspicions concerning Marshall
Tate's Bacchus satellite and how Lana Danielle had
visited Japan and was convinced that two Kronos-based computers had been built
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using a common nutrient tank in each: one in the Bacchus satellite, and
another as a control system and backup on the Eldorado.
'Two thousand Kronos sharing one nutrient tank?' the doctor muttered. Two
thousand! The concept is breathtaking. But it will take weeks to set
everything up.'
'Why not get Leon to run some computer simulations based on Professor
Danielle's results with a hundred Kronos? Won't that save a lot of work?'
Dr Pilleau was loathe to admit that computer projections were a substitute for
proper laboratory work, but his respect for truth and scientific accuracy
obliged him to agree with Carl's suggestion.
He set to work the moment he was alone. A fascinating problem. Two thousand
Kronos microprocessors sharing a common nutrient feed!
The faulty Laine Runner belt lay forgotten on his desk.
24 JAPAN
The explosion blew in all the windows and demolished the front of the timber
house. The tube on the new giant wide-screen Sony TV shattered with an
implosive report that sounded like a cannon being fired. Jumo was hurled
across the room with enough force to smash a screen door. Badly winded and
shocked, he eventually staggered to his feet and reeled towards the front
door. His first thought was that a butane cylinder had exploded. All the
houses in the little agricultural community used bottled gas for heating and
cooking. His mother and father would be okay because only a minute ago they
had driven off in Jumo's new Jaguar - how they loved showing it off to the
neighbours! They would not even let him put it in the parking space at the
rear of the house.
'No! NO! Jumo. Leave it at the front where people can see it!'
His second panic-inducing thought was that the explosion had damaged his
vision; the walls were twisted and leaning, and the ceiling was tipped down,
adding a crazy, mind-wrenching perspective to his once neat, orderly world.
The door was jammed. He hurled his weight against it. The entire frame gave
way and Jumo was sent sprawling into a matchwood sea of smashed and splintered
boarding of what had been the front veranda. What was left of the house
creaked ominously. There was a sudden cascade of dislodged roof tiles that
crashed down dangerously near to where Jumo was climbing to his feet.
Someone was running across a paddy field, shouting and waving. Jumo ignored
him. The unmade, dirt road that led from the house ended abruptly some seventy
metres away at the lip of a smoking crater.
Of Jumo's smart new Jaguar, there was nothing recognizable left, except the
engine and gearbox lodged in a tree.
Nor was there anything recognizable left of his parents.
The neighbours, the police, and local officials were all very kind. They
rained around. The police had a ready-made theory: there was a gang war raging
among the Yacuzza packinko bosses in the nearest town. One of them used to
visit his mother in a car identical to Jumo's car, the same colour, the same
model. A case of mistaken identity.
But Jumo knew better. He knew for whom the bomb had been intended and who had [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]