Ghosts from the Past (The Wandering engineer Book 7)

by Chris Hechtl

  The AI had been clearly trying to deflect him, to distract him or cover her ass now that she'd been caught. He shook his head and went back to work.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “So, you see, I screwed up. I should have come to him immediately, but ...” Sprite spread her hands as Cookie listened to her. The steward was busy washing the pots she had used for dinner. From her body language the AI considered it probable that the woman was unsure of her reasoning.

  The AI realized she needed to vent, to express her frustration. She could filter the emotion out, but she didn't want to do so. Besides, getting Cookie on board might help. She might gain an ally, someone in her camp to help win over the admiral.

  Cookie on the other hand also seemed to know she needed to vent, but also needed to keep it in the family. She wasn't quite a sympathetic ear, but she was close. She also wanted information on the admiral's habits and temperament to aide her in her job. She had the occasional discussion with Sprite over the months as they transited to Antigua so she was aware of the special relationship between the reporter and the admiral. She was also aware of how it ended the first time.

  In a lot of ways it was a classic love story she thought. Lovers torn apart by an assassin. It would definitely make a great novel someday.

  “The problem is, the admiral didn't quite come out and accuse me of wanting him to myself, and he refused to admit he had ordered me to keep him undistracted,” Sprite said in exasperation. Cookie shook her head.

  “So, what are you going to do?” the steward asked. She was uncomfortable discussing the admiral's personal life. Especially his love life. “People have to make up their minds. If you keep at this you'll prejudice him further against you. My suggestion is to back off and watch.”

  “I'll consider it. I think it's the only option I currently have available,” Sprite admitted. “I'm going to have to back off and let things go their course. Even though I see the potential for it to blow up in his face. The damage that woman could inflict on him, on his plans ...” she shook her head.

  “Do you consider her a threat, Commander? To the admiral's personal safety?” Defender asked her. Sprite stepped aside in surprise as the security AI came onto the holo pad.

  “I honestly don't know. I am not certain what she is capable of. A distraction yes. Fortunately he is handling it well.”

  “Understood.”

  “But she is potentially a security leak. Which could compromise him,” Sprite said, seeing another avenue of attack for her to possibly exploit. And possibly another ally, however unlikely.

  “That is ... a high probability. I will look into it further,” the security AI replied.

  Cookie raised an eyebrow as she looked at the AI. “Okay, if you are done can you get out of my kitchen? I need to finish up here,” she said waving a dishtowel at the AI. “And then get desert finished,” she said, pointing to the stove.

  “Okay okay. There is a social function tonight. The admiral wasn't interested in attending, but I might as well. I'm off duty as of now,” she growled, making a brushing motion to flick away her rank. “I'll just go pop in there and socialize to pick up some contacts,” Sprite said as she stood and raised her hand above her head. She rotated her wrist in a theatrical way and her outfit changed from the top down into a civilian one. “See you later,” she said as she disappeared.

  The steward glanced at the holo emitter then shook her head. She reached out with a soapy hand to flick the thing off.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Admiral Irons ate a late dinner but the echoes of his recent spat with Sprite made for a sour meal. He grumbled about what she had been thinking. Sprite didn't respond. His eyes cut to her icon. Her icon said she was off duty in all caps. He shook his head. While they were feuding things weren't getting done.

  “What the hell was she thinking,” he muttered out loud. “Is she jealous or something?”

  “She was doing her job. Looking out for you, sir,” Defender replied, popping up onto the HUD.

  The admiral blinked. He sat back. “Explain.”

  “You ordered Commander Sprite to reduce distractions to a minimum,” the AI replied. The admiral nodded. “Furthermore, the woman in question may not pose an imminent threat to your body, but she is a security breach.”

  “Wait a minute!” the admiral demanded, hand up as his temper started to rise. Mutely Defender put up an image of April talking with someone. That made him pause. “Okay, I'll bite. What am I looking at?”

  “Miss O'Neill has been under investigation for her active involvement with organized crime elements in the star system, Admiral,” Defender said ruthlessly. “She thus poses a security breach under section IV and V.”

  “Wait ...” the admiral sighed and rubbed his temple and closed his eyes. “Is that why she didn't tell me April was here?”

  “It is not the only reason. As you ordered, she reduced distractions to a minimum. Miss O'Neill's messages to you are in your inbox. You just haven't taken note of them.”

  “Because she didn't put them ... oh,” the admiral said. “Right. A distraction,” he said grudgingly.

  “And a potential security leak.”

  “She could be making contacts, working a long term story ... we don't know what is going on in her head.”

  “She has passed on sensitive information to criminals, Admiral. She could do the same, even if she considered it low level that could compromise your security or the security of the navy.”

  “I ... no,” the admiral said, shaking his head. “I don't believe it.”

  “And now you see the problem. You refuse to think ill of a woman you care about. The commander and I have to take the threat seriously.”

  “How seriously?”

  “Commander Sprite attempted to get more information but was denied. I have done the same but was also denied. We are too close to you. Passing on the information to us could tip her that she is being watched.”

  “Damn it ...” John ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “So, you are saying we can't come right out and ask her? Confront her? Read her vitals?”

  “She is a skilled reporter, Admiral. Able to manipulate the situation to her choosing. She can do the same to you since you are attracted to her. The answers would be questionable.”

  “Damn,” the admiral muttered. “I still think she is building contacts for her network. You have to work both sides of the street.”

  The security AI didn't respond. The admiral eyed him and then shook his head. “Get the commander,” he ordered, sitting back.

  “Admiral, your desert will be pushed back an hour,” Cookie said from the open pantry doorway.

  He turned his head to her. “That's fine. Good actually since I'm still full,” he said. He nodded to the woman as she quietly closed the door.

  “Yes, Admiral?” Sprite asked, deliberately appearing in civilian attire.

  “Drop the crap, Sprite,” the admiral said. “It's been a long day. Defender explained some of the situation to me. Why didn't you bring it up?”

  “You said no distractions,” Sprite said. “And she is a major distraction. Furthermore, involvement with her at this critical time could tarnish your reputation. Others could use that against you.”

  “How big is this investigation?” the admiral asked carefully.

  “Unknown. I am ...”

  “Locked out. Defender reported that as well,” he said, glancing at the security AI. “Okay, you were trying to protect me. Laudable. Now brief me.”

  “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “No, but I need to know. And I will try to keep an open mind.”

  “Very well ...”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Later that evening the admiral relaxed after trying some of Cookie's Baklava again. She had fused about the last batch, insisting it wasn't perfect. He didn't care, it was quite good. Her taste in cooking was starting to get to him. Fortunately he had what most would envy, an iron gut and an in
ability to gain weight.

  "Politics sure make for strange bed fellows," Sprite said, opening up the conversation as he toyed with his half empty cup. They were back to normal, or as normal as they got between the two of them.

  "I much prefer him over the snakes in Pyrax," Irons replied.

  "Amen." Sprite replied with a snort of amusement. "Randall ... I'm not sure. He's got some signs of being a good leader. I've checked on the news agency reports since we've been gone. Solid, though he's had to compromise on a few things."

  "Which is the nature of the beast, Sprite."

  "True. He's bent his ideals but he hasn't broken them. He's made a couple of stubborn stands but overall he's done well. I think he'll do," the AI said, gauging his vital signs for his feelings on the subject.

  "Good." Irons mused. "Because we don't have anyone else."

  "What about Bek?"

  "Bek is too far and I'm not going to chance it. No, we are here now. And you were right, there is something next door we can use."

  Sprite raised a virtual eyebrow in surprise. The admiral had shot down her previous desire to go to Lemnos base before. "You are willing to go there now? What changed your mind, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

  "Let's just say I've gone from rejecting it out of hand to actively considering it," the Admiral admitted. Sprite blinked at him. "I'd prefer we'd leave sleeping dogs alone ..."

  "You mean you aren't sure it's still there," Sprite said. "Are you worried about burning the time on going after it?"

  "No, but that is a point. Check the news archives. Hire someone ground side if you have to do so. I need Intel on that. Find out if there is any mention of it. And if ..."

  "I'm assuming you mean its destruction," Sprite asked carefully.

  The admiral nodded as he set his cup down and pushed it away with one finger. "Or exposure, decommissioning ... anything is possible. Those things may have even been secret. I don't know."

  "If I have to hire someone then I'll have to break security," Sprite cautioned. Defender's image ghosted over her. Red smoldering eyes turned to contemplate her as she brushed his image away in irritation.

  "No, no security breach is required. Just keep it vague. You want a complete history of all events during the last stage of the war. Put a special bounty on any information on events that happened near to Antigua space. It has to check out though, be cross referenced with other sources."

  "Interesting idea," Sprite mused, thinking it over. "Intentionally vague so the net will be cast wide. We'll get a lot of information. Useless information."

  "Yes. Filter it. We get the bad with the good. And it's not all bad, I think you can put it together with what you've assembled over the years can't you? Build a better picture of the events of the latter stages of the war and give us a better idea of where people have possibly survived."

  "Ah, so, multitasking. It could be done," Sprite replied. "Though an AI could do it faster."

  The admiral nodded. "True, and you can use one here on the station, but the station was out of contact for a while. I'm saying ground side because there might be hard-copy you can't access."

  "True," Sprite admitted. "So a wide net. A historical research bounty. I'll put something together Admiral," she said with a nod. She jotted off a couple e-mails to the other AI in the system to lend a hand with the project.

  "All right. We'll also need the phase two expansion plans for the yard construction. I'll get on that with Proteus. Defender ..." he paused to look at the other AI before it could fade out. "I want you to write a security protocol for the new net as well as a filtering process for new the new recruits ... and toss your Intel hat on and go over the interviews with the pirates captured here."

  “Pick out anything you think I'll need to know along with building a comprehensive report and then compare it to the one Firefly's staff wrote. I want both reports and the contrast on my desk no later than tomorrow."

  Defender's eyes flashed. He gave a subtle nod. "Yes, sir."

  "Oh and cross reference the details we got from the prisoners in Pyrax. See if anything is confirmed or if anything stands out."

  "Understood. I do not have the necessary intuitive grasp however to do this as well as you hope Admiral," Defender cautioned.

  Irons waved that concern away. "Then do what you can with the resources you have. If you think it will help, punch it over to some of the staff on the Maine who showed an interest in Security and Intel and have them have a go at it as well. See where that leads."

  "And contrast their reports with your own as well," Sprite added gleefully. “Sergeant Race Bannon might be of good use to you,” she suggested.

  "Exactly," the Admiral replied.

  "Admiral, that will take a considerable amount of effort. Effort that will take my attention away from my primary ..."

  Irons held up a restraining hand before Defender's excuse got out of hand. "No worries, I'll be remaining here for the evening. I'll be bedding down after I finish pursuing the reports I've got to write and read. So, check on this area, then spin a bot off after you lock it down."

  "Understood," Defender replied, voice only slightly sullen. Irons nodded as the AI's image faded out.

  Sprite pursed her virtual lips in amusement. Irons turned to her. "More homework. I'm getting while the getting's good, Admiral," she said and faded out. She had other plans for the evening. A bot was tracking the red headed reporter. When she bedded down she had plans. Clio said she'd lend a hand in covering her tracks. That was good. What she wanted to do was illegal and tricky.

  Irons snorted and turned to the mercurial blob. "Now, Proteus, the station's going to have to do double duty for a while. They are also going to be a pain in the ass to get anything out of, so how can we get the most bang for our buck in the shortest available time?" he asked, sitting back and finally doing something he truly loved.

  "Well Admiral, I think we need to focus on a power supply, fuel for it, and some major industrial replicators right off ..." Proteus began, sketching out the preliminary plan.

  Chapter 21

  He had been fortunate that his wife and children had not perished, but others in his family and on her side of the family had not been so fortunate, Jeff Randall mused as he swirled his brandy. He stared off into the depths of space. The blackness bothered him, there was a lot out there he didn't know. The stars twinkled at him, but instead of wondering about what the people on the worlds on them thought, he thought about what they could do, were doing and he couldn't see. Those were things that now frightened him and kept him awake at night from time to time. He had to work sometimes or work out to exhaust himself when the nightmares got too bad.

  He'd paid for his ignorance and his arrogance, he thought, closing his eyes in pain. No, not directly, but in his tortured soul he knew he'd screwed up. He'd failed his people. He'd let them down. Let down people he'd known since he had been a child. Many of his and Sandra's friends and neighbors were now no more than a memory. His wife still grieved for her aunt and uncle.

  He'd learned a lot then, learned the true meaning of a community as he pitched in and dug through the rubble of the orbital strike and found a tiny hand clutching his. The tears in his face, and the solemn vow to never let it happen again. Not on his watch. He was now in perfect accord with the admiral despite some misgivings from Mitrian and some of his cabinet. He swirled his drink and then downed it. No, Irons was right. He’d back the man to his dying breath now, he realized that. Irons was the one man in the galaxy who could ever prevent this from happening ever again.

  They were building trust between them. At least he hoped so. They needed to have a private talk sometime, just between the two of them. He made a note to have his staff set it up. They'd have to clear some of his schedule, but that was fine. He'd insisted on blocking out as much time as was needed to oversee the discussions with the admiral directly. He couldn't and wouldn't trust the safety of his family and people in anyone else's hands. He shook his head.

&nb
sp; ...*...*...*...*...

  “Hiring for space positions are skyrocketing, Admiral. Not just for the yard but across the board,” Sprite reported, showing him an ad. Apparently the various outfits were resorting to poaching to get experienced help. There had been some jokes about kidnapping experienced personnel, or chaining them to a job site so they couldn't go wandering off.

  He shook his head as he concentrated on the report in front of him. She was right though, he thought. The distraction was enough to make him exhale in slight annoyance. Welders and machinists on the ground were hopping flights from the surface up to the station. A new gold rush had started, this one for work. They were eager to get into building the yard, they barely recognized the need for the supporting infrastructure. He shook his head.

  Some of the people were good, but many were barely village blacksmiths with no knowledge of how to work and survive in space. Classes had exploded on the space station. Apparently someone smart had seen the need and started an independent school to train people in the bare minimums needed to get a job. He nodded. They were good, though their training sucked. He made a note to toss them some tools and a database when he got the chance.

  Hell, he didn't have to do it himself. He could just replicate the stuff and have Sprite or someone send a runner. And give them the list of minimum skills needed for each position the navy needed for its civilian contractors while they were at it.

  “We've got more people coming on board too, Admiral. And the cybers aren't happy about the poaching,” the AI reported with amusement in her voice. “Apparently we're getting a lot of their senior people.”

  “Ouch,” the admiral said mildly.

  “They either put in their two week notice or want to quit now. The station council is threatening to keep their severance and is even threatening litigation for those who have an iron clad contract,” the AI reported.

  “Apparently someone's not on board with our project,” the admiral said. He had a small thread of sympathy for those complaining about the poaching but he couldn't care enough to help them. They should have paid their people better, and they should be understanding when someone wanted to step up and help defend their star system.