Auggie Ybarra walked into the morning war-room meeting five
minutes late. The crowd around the table
parted as they saw who he was. He walked
up to the table and unceremoniously placed a very large, black, plastic garbage
bag in the center. Whatever was in the
bag was bulky, angular and light in weight.
“I need to have the technical people move up to the
table. Everybody else, step back.”
Ybarra announced.
Dilip was one of the few technical people in the room.
Ybarra opened the bag and slid the contents onto the top of
the table. It looked like kite with
gimbaled rotors in the four corners. The
surface of the kite appeared to be a stiff, plastic membrane and it was stayed
into a complex set of curves with a multitude of arched ribs that were the
thickness of bicycle spokes. The
membrane was dark blue on top and white on the bottom.
“What is it?” one of the people behind the techies asked.
“It is one of the drones that Cali deployed against our
defenders.” Ybarra responded.
“How did we get it?” Dilip asked.
“A farmer found it in a hayfield fifteen miles east of
I-5. We think it got caught in a thermal
after we sniped one of the passengers in a command-and-control Hummer.” Ybarra
said.
McDevitt cocked an eyebrow indicating a question.
Ybarra continued, “We have been harassing the columns by
placing snipers along their route.
Generally they get one shot a day.
If they try more than one shot they get pinned down and destroyed. And, since we have been focusing on taking
out their drone handlers, the handlers hate them like poison.”
“We think it was caught in a thermal because that is how
they are able to keep them aloft all day.
At least we think that is how they are doing it.”
Dilip picked up the drone and gently turned it over. Then he minutely inspected the ribs and the
membrane.
Dilip tapped a rib and listened. “Carbon fiber?” he asked.
“Probably.” Ybarra said.
Dilip gently rubbed the membrane of the sail between his
thumb and forefinger.
“You missed something.” he said.
“What’s that.” Ybarra asked.
“The sail is a solar cell.
It feels like amorphous silicon on Mylar film. My guess is that they vac-formed the sail and
then used vapor deposition for the silicon.”
Dilip said. Some of Dilip’s
friends in grad school had esoteric interests.
“That would certainly explain why they don’t sally forth on
rainy days and why we can go toe-to-toe with them at night.” Ybarra said.
“I don’t see how that helps us. If anything it makes them seem more
formidable.” one of the logistics people commented.
“Actually, it does.
It tells exactly how to go after them.” Dilip said.
“Enlighten us.” McDevitt said.
“That entire sail, all four square feet of it, functions as
an antenna because of the grid of wires embedded within it.” Dilip said as he
turned the drone upside down and gently stroked the skin. “That makes it exquisitely sensitive to EMP (Electro-Magnetic
Pulse) weapons.”
“Stop using jargon.” the logistics person said
irritably. “Use language normal people
understand.”
Dilip nodded agreeably.
“Ok. Have you ever dropped your
phone into a puddle of water?”
The logistics officer nodded “Yes.” as nearly everybody in
the group subconsciously nodded in agreement.
“Did you dry it off in a microwave oven?” Dilip asked.
“Hell no!” the officer responded.
“Why not?” Dilip asked.
“Because it would explode or catch fire. At the very least it would fry the chips
inside the case.” The logistics officer responded.
Dilip nodded. “That
is the correct answer. The other thing
to keep in mind is that the ‘antenna’ on this drone is about a million times
larger than the antenna on your phone and will pick up that much more
energy. Otherwise, same-same.”
Ybarra looked over at the logistics expert. “I think you need to rustle up some EMP
weapons.”
Next installment
Next installment
No comments:
Post a Comment
Readers who are willing to comment make this a better blog. Civil dialog is a valuable thing.