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Talk:Where Legal Eagles Dare: An Opco Boone Adventure: Difference between revisions
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Talk:Where Legal Eagles Dare: An Opco Boone Adventure (view source)
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“OK, Dee — let’s take it to forty thousand.” | “OK, Dee — let’s take it to forty thousand.” | ||
Digital Voice Assistant | The Digital Voice Assistant resonated in Boone’s earpiece. “Roger that, Commander.” | ||
Instantly, Boone felt his weight shift back as the wingsuit’s ailerons | Instantly, Boone felt his weight shift back as the wingsuit’s ailerons trimmed, its leading edge adjusted, and power surged to the flanks. Exiting a flush of endorphin, the Eagle Squadron Commander soared, bursting through a gossamer skin of cirrus and into a vaulted dome of vivid cobalt. | ||
He whistled softly to himself. “Excuse me while I kiss the sky.” | He whistled softly to himself. “Excuse me while I kiss the sky.” | ||
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“Thank you, Dee.” | “Thank you, Dee.” | ||
Boone ESPERed in further. He zeroed in on a gleaming white arbitration droid gliding above an agro-sector. The grid’s colour-grade oscillated between lime and burnt lemon — this indicated some hostiles, but operational threat controlled. Boone could even see the escalation cloud hovering above the grid-sector, sparking and fizzing as alive with starlight: this was how dispute resolution rendered on the electro-forensic frequency spectrum. The arb-bot trawled the sector, its exo-skeletal booms extended behind it, as delicate as dragonfly wings, methodically harvesting the glitter, plucking it out of the air, and on-the-fly quantifying the yield per hour on digital readouts with real-time syncs to his display. Boone still found it breath-taking: risk management in the singularity was beyond the wildest dreams of a terrestrial. | Boone ESPERed in further. He zeroed in on a gleaming white arbitration droid gliding above an agro-sector. The grid’s colour-grade oscillated between lime and burnt lemon — this indicated some hostiles, but operational threat controlled. Boone could even see the escalation cloud hovering above the grid-sector, sparking and fizzing as alive with starlight: this was how dispute resolution rendered on the electro-forensic frequency spectrum. The arb-bot trawled the sector, its exo-skeletal booms extended behind it, as delicate as dragonfly wings, methodically harvesting the glitter, plucking it out of the air with tiny sparks and flares, and on-the-fly quantifying the yield per hour on digital readouts with real-time syncs to his display. Boone still found it breath-taking: risk management in the singularity was beyond the wildest dreams of a terrestrial. | ||
“Hey Denning, can you prepare my [[MIS]] stack?” | “Hey Denning, can you prepare my [[MIS]] stack?” | ||
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Boone let it go. There was a quick pinch of adrenaline as he loosened his grip, and then, as the belt fell, tumbling end on end, he felt a profound sense of joy. Of progression. of transcendence — as if he were graduating; transitioning; morphing into a higher consciousness. | Boone let it go. There was a quick pinch of adrenaline as he loosened his grip, and then, as the belt fell, tumbling end on end, he felt a profound sense of joy. Of progression. of transcendence — as if he were graduating; transitioning; morphing into a higher consciousness. | ||
“And this precedent magazine. What ''use'' is it?” Boone counted out the snub-nosed mezz-tranches. So ungainly. He scattered them into the sun. | “And this precedent magazine. What ''use'' is it?” Boone counted out the snub-nosed mezz-tranches. So ungainly. He scattered them into the sun. They fell through the risk stratum below, sparkling and flaming out as they succumbed to the arb-bot booms. “I mean, why?” | ||
“I don’t even need this goddamn wingsuit, Dee.” Boone unbuckled the body clip and released the shoulder harness. The shell came away and floated in the sun. “It is all just cost. Unnecessary cost.” | “I don’t even need this goddamn wingsuit, Dee.” Boone unbuckled the body clip and released the shoulder harness. The shell came away and floated in the sun. “It is all just cost. Unnecessary cost.” | ||
“It’s just cost, Commander. And cost is the real enemy. ''There’s'' the existential risk facing the organisation. Cost. It has to go.” | “It’s just cost, Commander. And cost is the real enemy. ''There’s'' the existential risk facing the organisation. ''Cost''. It has to go.” | ||
Boone let the harness slip. ''Free at last.'' | |||
Imperceptibly, the taxonomy grid seemed to ''ripen''. There was a rosiness to some of the sectors he had not noticed earlier. It seemed to flush. | |||
“This is very selfless of you, Commander.” | |||
“Don’t mention it, Dee. It’s for the best.” | |||
At the periphery of the taxo-grid, some of the risk-irrigation droids had ticked up in their activity. One or two were departing from their pre-programmed figure-eights and moving erratically; less serenely. Now free of the wingsuit, Boone felt the gentle pull of gravity. | |||
Boone reflected on what the Digital Voice Assistant had just said. ‘Selfless’. Wait a minute: ''selfless''? What did ''that'' mean? | |||
“Selfless? What do you mean by ''that'', Dee?” | |||
Well, by re-routing your ongoing cost accruals back to the operating service line, Commander. That is a selfless contribution to the budget projection. | |||
Boone was drifting downward now. The hoverdroids become busier over the edge sectors. some of the sectors in the grids were rendering a definite orange colour; one or two had graduating into red. Odd — the edge sectors were were the risk taxonomy assessed the ''least'' risk. This was sleepy stuff: benchmarks; market infrastructure, supply chain financing. ''Nothing happened here''. Boone recalibrated his scope — the mist across the whole grid seemed to be thickening. | |||
Boone accelerated towards the earth. “Actually, Dee, I — I think I might need the suit after all. Can you re-route it down to me? I would like to investigate that edge sector. It seems to be flaring.” | |||
“Your equipment has been repurposed I am afraid. The headcount is gone now, Commander.” | |||
“Headcount? Dee, what are you saying?” | |||
In the red sector a spark — a much, much bigger spark — flashed and jumped across the sector. It jolted the hover-drone, knocking it off its trajectory. | |||
Are you seeing this, Dee? We need to organise a recovery squad! | |||
“I cannot do that Commander. Access to my risk management systems is locked out, pending decommissioning your account. I have no access to the risk-network, Commander.” | |||
Boone began to flail. The middle of the sector grid a giant anvil thunderhead was forming. Flashes of lightening sparkled around the grid. A low subsonic thunder rumbled. | |||
“But, Dee, the system is going critical!” | |||
The DVA’s tone never wavered above conversational. “My protocol will not allow intervention, Commander.” | |||
Drones were flaming out. They were failing. They were falling out of the sky. Up high, in their wing-suits, the Eagle Squad fliers were just helpless emasculated spectators. Then their navigation systems began malfunctioning, victims of redundancy overload. Their wing-suits caught fire. Boone watched the world come to its end as he thundered through the atmosphere, falling hundreds of metres per second now, at terminal velocity. He could scarcely breathe. | |||
As he drifted into unconsciousness, falling towards a burning planet, his last thought was the comfort that, his final fall would he could just about make out his DVA, a faint, crackling message, a last ray of lost hope: Boone! ... Boone! ... Come in Boone! | |||
Georgie slapped Commander Boone hard across his face. BOONE WAKE UP. | |||
Opco Boone bolted up out of his bunk. His eyes were like saucers. Just the bare, elephant spunk grey of the Eagle Squad’s dormitory walls. | |||
“Jesus, Boone, you were in deep!” said Georgie. Come on. Carpenter’s summoned us to an urgent briefing. | |||
Their trawl-paths a bit more random: y exhibited some seemed | |||