Earth Unaware (First Formic War)

wasn’t testing him. There was too much at stake for that. No, Lem wasn’t so conceited as to believe that Father would risk the development of the gravity laser simply to teach Lem one of his “life lessons.” This was purely Lem’s problem. And he would deal with it.
    “Dr. Dublin,” Lem said into his microphone, “when you said that the test would begin in a few moments, I assumed that you defined a few moments the same way I do, mere minutes at most. But by my clock, nearly fifteen additional minutes have passed. I recognize that the glaser is of utmost importance to this ship, but there are other matters on this vessel that require a captain’s attention. As much as I enjoy staring out into space and pondering the meaning of the universe, frankly I don’t have the time. Are we conducting a test or aren’t we?”
    Dr. Dublin’s voice was small and hesitant. “Well, sir, it appears that we may have run into a snag.”
    Lem closed his eyes. “And when were you going to inform me of this snag?”
    “We were hoping that we could fix it quickly, sir. But that doesn’t seem likely now. We were about to call you.”
    I’m sure you were, thought Lem. He pushed his cup into the receptacle. “I’m coming down.”
    Lem made his way to the push tube, one of the many narrow shafts that ran through the ship. He pulled himself inside and folded his arms across his chest. The walls, like the floor and sidewalls of the ship, produced an undulating magnetic field. The magnets either attracted or repelled the vambraces Lem wore on his forearms and the greaves he wore on his shins. Lem said, “Fourteen.” At once he was sucked downward. When he arrived, the lab was in such a state that no one noticed him float into the room. Most of the engineers were hovering weightless around the wall-screen that stretched the length of the room. It held countless windows of data, diagrams, blueprints, messages, scribbles, and equations. It hurt Lem’s eyes just to look at it. The engineers were politely arguing over some technical matter Lem didn’t understand. Dr. Dublin and a few assistants were standing on the wall to Lem’s left, looking down on a hologram of the gravity laser that was about one-fifth the size of the real thing. It annoyed Lem when people in a room didn’t maintain the same vertical orientation. Being perpendicular to everyone else was indecorous.
    “I do love watching engineers at play,” said Lem, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
    The room fell silent. The engineers turned to him. Without looking, Lem tapped his wrist pad, and the eye assault that was the wall-screen dimmed to half-light.
    Dublin stepped off the wall to the left and stood upright on Lem’s floor, bending awkwardly as he adjusted his vambraces. Such a brilliant mind, and yet as graceful as a turnip.
    “Mr. Jukes,” said Dublin, “thank you for coming. I apologize yet again for this delay. It appears that the source of the problem—”
    “I am not an engineer,” said Lem with a cheerful smile. “Explaining the problem won’t hasten its repair. I don’t want to distract you any more than necessary from solving the problem. That would be a much better use of your time, wouldn’t you agree?”
    Dublin swallowed and attempted a smile. “Oh, well, yes, that’s very kind. Thank you.” He took a step backward.
    Lem looked at their faces. “I want to thank all of you for your tireless efforts,” he said. “I know that many of you are functioning on a few hours of sleep, and I recognize that the glitches and delays we’ve experienced are more frustrating to you than anyone else. So I appreciate your patience and perseverance. My father assured me that he had assembled the best team possible, and I know that he was right.” Lem smiled to show them that he meant it. “So let’s pause for a moment and take a deep breath. I know it’s still morning, but except for the people physically working on the fix, let’s take a two-hour break. A nap, for many of you. A meal for others. Then we’ll come back and tear that asteroid apart like a sneeze in a wet tissue.”
    Lem made a point of not looking at Dublin, though he noticed that a few of the engineers did. If the laser wouldn’t be ready within the next two hours, this was Dublin’s chance to have a spine and speak up.
    Silence in the room.
    “Wonderful,” said Lem. “Two hours.”
    Lem launched off the floor and headed toward the push tube. He caught himself at