A Numbers Game

Numbers Game - III

III.

Cal pumped an endorphin mix, Blue C6, synthesized on ship, put together by his specs. All algorithmic jockeys had their own special brand of non-habit forming synth. His consisted of 1/3 cocktail of endocrine, synthetic blend and natural occurring. He edged it with a bit of old fashioned methamphetamine. This was illegal, of course, but the ship's captain allowed for some things - as long as they weren't entered in the ship's log. The cocktail worked: the bleariness melted away.  The picc warmed up quickly.

The algorithm tactical control (ATC) was already making calculations based on the current threat within the 1:23 minutes it took Cal to take his chair. [Well apart from the bridge, the ACS (algorithmic control specialist) was a command and control all its own. In the case of the Harper's Ferry, the bridge was on the fore of the armored hull, the ATC was well nestled in the heart of the ship, as near to Engineering as could be established.]

He checked the status of the threat as the Charon. This was a vessel close to their own in many respects. Cal had to know every major class ship of the enemy. He briefed himself weekly on the latest intel. At last count there were well over 3,000 different types (only a tenth of that in their immediate sector).

It was vital that any ACS knew their hard data. They learned, from methodology at the academy, to put together information in a form most productive for them. In Cal's case, he siphoned data in much like branch structure, but not in two dimensions, but learned it as four. There were general trunks, specific branches, breadth of lines and, the fourth, was correlational threads.

The Charon was an enemy vessel, of the destroyer class, headed under the 11th expeditionary force and correlated to 21 specific data points that he could call up within a minute. Each of the critical points were logged quickly into the threat system. The ACS was not the person who fired, that was the captain, but the captain was definitely reliant on the ACS for making that distinction as clear as possible. And, right now, Cal could almost sense the Charon's ACS performing the same tasks as he was. It was 4:13 minutes from init contact and Cal had finished the basic threat analysis. The captain was already aware that it was a threat, the ship was far too afield at this point to fire - but they only had another 2 minutes before a decision was to be made.

"All actionable data compared: 67% positive outcome, 31% negative, 2% unknown" Cal knew too, Captain Monsen's temperment. He would like these odds. Now to formulate a different mix of algorithmic offense and defense lines. He would have 30 seconds. By judging the telemetry, mass, possible armament (providing there were no unknowns) make-up and the odds of the ACS being better than him - all were on the table - Cal furiously pounded data on the specially designed UI. The interface to the ATC was such that it could take data reads from all of Cal's actions and help funnel the actionable data correctly into the system.  The captain indicated his readiness with a swath of orange light that blinked steadily in the periphery of his vision (it was nicked the 'temperament button').

The AI, nicknamed 'Brutus', also spent a ton of hours comprehending actions from his counterparts, the ACS team. Since his knowledge of the Charon was fair, he was able to discern soft spots in the armor, similar to the Harper and provide a solution that garnered positive to 71% - probably the highest he could ask for considering the time constraint. To this, he also put in defensive ordinance at their vulnerable areas. He recommended to the captain off-shifting the tack of their offensive line at a degree to allow to bring a hard to starboard in the event of a problem.

At the thirty second mark, he entered all his data and was confident of the work. In 6:28 minutes he had a report that would account for 110 pages of data. In it he improved their odds to the point where, at worst, they would only lapse to 32.569% of possible failure. This would provide the Harper enough time to figure out a back-up option. [Also, alerts were sent to the fleet in the vicinity to appoint to this location at the moment of contact per naval protocol.]

[As was standard, but no number jockey liked to do - he glanced at the Charon's success, which was a duplex calculation provided by Brutus.  Harper's only had a 2.3% chance above their prey.]

The ship began to thrum. The Captain was taking action; the point of no retreat had happened in the time that Cal's relief, Bethany, took the chair. Cal's work was completed. Algorithm Contigency was Bethany's forte. Cal grabbed a gel to come down off of the high, (he found himself sweating profusely) and strapped down to a binding station until the alert was over. By his calculations, he would know if they were to live or die in the next :46 seconds. He squeezed the cooled gel down and wiped at his eyes.  He would always want to pass out during the fight, so he could die asleep, but there was no way to fix that.