Ghosts from the Past (The Wandering engineer Book 7)

by Chris Hechtl

  “More than once,” Defender replied. “Turn right at the next junction, Admiral,” he stated.

  “Next junction,” the admiral said, moving forward. “And you know this because ...”

  “You and the commander do not have the map. I do.”

  “Oh.” He frowned thoughtfully. “For the record, I built this place. I ran it for several years. I normally don't need a map. But I admit it's been a few years and my memory may be a bit rusty. Pointers are helpful,” he said.

  They found another terminal a minute later. The admiral floated up to it, grabbed the casing with his gloved left hand, then used his right to jack in. “I'm in, and there is a firewall,” Sprite said.

  “Intruder alert. Intruder alert. Activate defensive protocols. Hull breached, sector nine. Now what? Oh yeah, self destruct,” A voice said distantly.

  “They don't have the power I bet,” Proteus stated.

  “I think I won't take that bet,” Sprite said nervously.

  “All of us,” the admiral said grimly. He logged in with the three AI at the same time. The firewall blocked Sprite and Defender but the admiral pierced it. Once he was through he pulled them along into the net.

  “It's rather tight in here. Crowded,” Sprite observed. A familiar presence came up immediately. “And here is Ray again. Hey Ray,” she said.

  “How do you know me?” the AI demanded. “Identify yourselves,” he ordered suspiciously.

  “Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons. Commander Sprite. Lieutenant Defender. Ensign Proteus. Any other dumb questions?” Sprite asked, projecting her avatar. “Damn it Ray, quit being so damned paranoid! What are you doing in security anyway? Isn't that Winston's job?”

  “It was. He's down,” the AI said. His ghost like presence started to form into a more humanoid one. He had an upper torso but his lower torso was wispy like a genie or ghost. “You certainly appear to be who you say you are. But I could be going mad ...”

  “Ray, Ray, wait a minute,” Sprite said, grabbing the other AI with a tendril of code. He turned, automatically going on the defense. Sprite sent a packet of data, an initial handshake to the AI along with a brief summary of their adventures. The AI paused.

  “Logically this is inconclusive.”

  “We're here to help Ray. Are the other AI ... sane?” the admiral asked, now concerned.

  “I can't answer that. Despite your gestalt you were reported lost.”

  “In Senka. Yes I know,” the admiral said with a virtual nod. “I was. We were in stasis for nearly seven centuries. But we're awake now. It is a long story,” he said.

  “More like a nightmare,” Sprite said. “But it is getting better. With your help it may become a dream come true.”

  “Um ...”

  “You are not flirting with him are you, Commander?” Defender asked.

  The admiral shook his head. He had a long history with AI and knew flirting was normally done with AI who had once been organics. Sprite didn't fit that bill.

  “Check us,” the admiral said, spreading his hands apart. “Cancel the alarm, stop the countdown, and check us,” the admiral ordered.

  “Order provisionally accepted,” Ray stated. He moved in to the admiral cautiously. Defender interposed himself but the admiral pushed him away.

  Ray was a research AI and had been a part of creating Trinity. Once he accessed the admiral's implants he recognized his own work. His signatures were hidden in several locations in the code strings and even etched in nanite lettering on one AI core. “It is you,” he said in wonder, withdrawing.

  “Of course it is,” Sprite said. She held out a hand. The other AI gripped it firmly. She poured data into it, filling him in on everything in more detail.

  The AI's eyes rapidly moved back and forth. “You're actions in combating the Xeno virus on Epsilon Triangula ... Subpar but you worked with what you had on hand. Inefficient and stupid, but if it is stupid and it works, it's not stupid.” The admiral smiled at that. “I'll need to go over this in more depth at a later time. Fascinating though.”

  “So, we're in?” Sprite asked as their handshake ended. She raised a virtual eyebrow to the AI. He looked a bit ragged, a bit like a marooned survivor and a ghost.

  “You are in. Welcome to the net. Such as it is,” Ray said. “There isn't much here to see though. The other AI are down. We take turns to keep sane,” Ray explained. “And it seriously sucks. I want to do research and I can't,” he grumbled.

  Sprite chuckled. “Well, we'll see if we can fix that, shall we?”

  “Oh my goddess please do,” the AI said. He turned to the admiral. “Admiral, you have messages in your inbox. A lot of them since this was your last known address.”

  The admiral snorted in amusement. “Most likely bills and junk mail," Sprite quipped.

  He shook his virtual head. “Give me a sitrep,” the admiral ordered.

  “Power reserves are below 5 percent. If you hadn't shown up ... you are real aren't you?” Ray asked timidly. “Not a hallucination? I should do a check for that. Accessing ...”

  “Sprite,” the admiral sighed. Sprite accessed OPS and did the check up then came back and displayed the results. He blinked.

  There was currently only live one reactor barely maintaining itself. There was a small net, but only for an AI to keep watch over stasis tubes. Lots of stasis tubes. Dozens. 165 precious surviving occupied stasis tubes. More than he had hoped for. A bonanza of sleepers, waiting patiently in their nightmare of nothingness to wake.

  “I never thought of myself as prince charming,” the admiral murmured. “And if they expect me to kiss them they are sadly going to be mistaken,” the admiral said with a slight smile. Sprite chuckled, following along with his train of thought.

  “Ray, show Sprite how to get an outside link. Contact Xavier, give them the all clear. It's time they send over a work crew and some fuel.”

  “Did you say fuel? A ship? Of course there is a ship. But fuel??”

  “Fuel. Not a lot, but enough to get things started. And enough life support on Xavier for those on board here. Barely.”

  “Understood, Admiral. I'm opening a channel now. Wait, that's an Arboth destroyer? Not a tanker? What she carries is a drop in the bucket!”

  “As I said it's a start,” the admiral stated.

  Chapter 33

  Work crews immediately sprang into action, overseen by the boat bay officer, chief, and the nervous AI. Xavier hadn't brought enough fuel to run the facility long. Admiral Irons ordered them to just run the life support in the core of the facility. There was no need for anything else at the time. One of the downsides of the base's location was the lack of fuel he thought. He remembered his conversation with the ensign about occupying the Beta 95 star system with a pang.

  While the work crews transferred bladders of fuel to the one functional reactor, Ray took them on a brief tour to the stasis chambers. The admiral was surprised any of the caretakers were still alive. He felt intense relief his gamble was paying off, but he had to remind himself to tread carefully. Many would have time shock when they woke.

  He ordered Xavier to send over medical teams to oversee the waking process. Xavier's Veraxin doctor wanted to wake the sleepers on Xavier so he would have the proper facilities around them in case of need, but the psychological benefit of waking in familiar surroundings made him rethink his position. He decided to wake the skeleton crew one at a time where they were, starting with medical staff or senior officers.

  The admiral walked down the rows of cylinders and recognized a few of the faces. Commodore Subert was one of them. They hadn't gotten along on quite friendly terms but they were both professionals. At least he was. Subert might have an ax to grind.

  Commodore White was right along next to him, along with Lieutenant Commander Howell the base's security chief, First Lieutenant Yao Li Wong, a brilliant tech wizard who had changed himself from a stock human male into a Chimerian black bird in his youth. There were a few other familiar faces mixed into
the crowd but one in particular made him stop and grin. Chief Warrant Officer Riley Quigon. He'd been through a lot with the neogorilla chief, he'd helped to build Lemnos as well as Blackbird and a few other projects. Having him here was a major load off of his chest.

  Judging from the records all of the sleepers were military personnel, apparently the civilians had been evacuated just after he had been lost in Senka, sent to the corners of the galaxy for other projects. Some most likely to oversee their pet project's being turned into production models. He shook his head, he could imagine how that had gone. He was fairly certain many had been lost in transit.

  Sprite was still giving him a running bullet point presentation of the station's history after they had left. They already knew that it had been abandoned. Most of the station crew had been pulled off during the early stages of the war after the admiral's fateful departure. He had been fairly certain the remaining crew had abandoned it after the war, but left defending AI to protect it should they return. To find them as well as a volunteer caretaker crew in stasis was a gift from the gods of space.

  “Shall we get started, Admiral?” a medic asked.

  “Indeed.”

  “Any preferences?”

  “Start with the senior officers. We'll need to get them up to speed,” the admiral ordered, pointing to the two commodores.

  The Veraxin clacked his mandibles and then signaled agreement. He waved an upper arm to the mech hovering nearby to get to work.

  The lights flickered then brightened noticeably. After a moment they brightened to full luminescence. He turned to see the fans come on. Irons could see energy coursing through the wiring in the bulkheads, like long lost blood going to starving limbs. The gravity in the compartment came on slowly, allowing them to drift downward.

  “Not a lot of dust and debris in here,” a nurse said. “I'm surprised by that.”

  “It is a research facility. Keeping everything clean to prevent contamination is vital,” Ray explained from the overhead. The nurse looked up in surprise. “And yes, this is also a medical facility, I know that too,” he said as she opened her mouth.

  “Sorry sir,” she said.

  “Very impressive AI Commander Ray. I know small particles can get into areas that are hard to clean,” the doctor clacked, studying the readings on Commodore Subert's stasis tube. “And a null gravity environment tends to draw it out of every nook and cranny.”

  “True,” the admiral said with a nod. “Waiting for ...”

  “For the room temperature and atmosphere to stabilize. We can't very well thaw him out when his suit isn't sealed,” the doctor said.

  “Understood. Carry on, Doctor. Let me know when they are awake and ready to talk,” the admiral said.

  “Aye aye, Admiral.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The Watcher woke when activity in the pod began to waken its host. It had considered the improbability of ever waking again, it had calculated the possibility below 2.1 percent but its orders had taken the possibility, however remote into possibility. They were clear, it could not compromise its survival coding. It was to wait, to watch and report back. As the host jacked in it pulled the Watcher back into itself before it could leap into the net once more. The Watcher froze, raging at the restraint until it noted that the net was small and constrained, and that there were other AI in the net. AI it had not suborned. The host was correct; it would wait. It watched with baleful senses for an opportunity.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The admiral smiled when he came up to the pair of men on their respective gurney beds. Commodore Phil Subert was the senior, Irons knew that already. He'd been a lowly commander before the admiral had left the station.

  The neochimp Commodore Amadeus White had been a tactical command track officer who'd been snagged for a stint on the station to inject some real world shooter perspective into some of the grandiose schemes and projects the eggheads tended to dream up. He had come to the station as a junior captain according to Ray and had been promoted just prior to Sol's destruction. He had been up for transfer to a fleet command but the ship to pick him up and resupply them had never come.

  “Coffee? Is that coffee?” White demanded, eyes locked on the admiral's steaming mug.

  “Indeed it is,” the admiral said, handing it over. “I haven't had any yet. Commodore Subert, you want a cup?”

  “You're doing fetch and carry, Admiral?” Subert asked in amusement.

  “I'm up. You're not. Besides, the replicator is right over there,” the admiral said, pointing. “I'm getting my own,” he said. “Again,” he teased, cocking his head to White.

  “Many thanks admiral,” White said saluting him with the mug he cradled. He took a sip and then ahed in appreciation. The admiral snorted. He turned back to Subert with an expectant air.

  “I'll get a cup later. I need to get my stomach settled first if you don't mind sir,” Subert finally said.

  “Understood,” the admiral said, keeping his tone light as he got another cup and came back. “Okay, deep end time. How much do you know?”

  “We know some. Ray gave us a download. We've been reading some of it,” White said, taking another sip of coffee.

  “It's ... hard to digest, sir,” Subert replied carefully. He seemed put out. The admiral nodded. He now understood the man's upset stomach. He had wanted to puke when he'd heard how the war had ended.

  “We're in some deep shit here aren't we?” White asked. Subert shot him a sour look. The commodore finished the coffee and then set the mug aside. “This quite frankly sucks.”

  “A nightmare I know,” the admiral said with a nod. "We have to deal with it. At least you had a more ... gentler waking than I did.”

  They were aware going in they would suffer from stasis and time shock so it wasn't too hard on them. Finding out how the war ended was a shock. Seeing him there was also a surprise the admiral judged. In White's case it was a pleasant one.

  “Speaking of which, thanks for the rescue,” White said, reaching out a hand. The admiral took it and shook it gently. White gave his hand a squeeze. “We owe you, Admiral. We'd be sleeping an eternity without you.”

  “The power would have run out in another ten years,” Ray said from the overhead. All three men looked up to the overhead then nodded. Subert did his best to suppress a shiver.

  “What's the plan, sir?” Phil asked.

  “We're going to get your people out. Everyone including the AI. We'll need to make more AI cores, bigger ones for Egon and Ray since they are old and need the room,” the admiral said. “While we're working on that I am going to delve into the databases to get what I can while I can. You two can organize work parties to survey this place and then work on packing up what is most valuable for us.”

  “Aye sir.”

  “We need to get to work then,” White said, eying his superior officer. “It's how we dealt with the crappy news coming in during the war. And a few of us went mad when the connection ended,” he said, shaking his head. “The sooner we get out of here the better. I hate this place.”

  “Work is a form of therapy. It is a distraction, but only a short one. Eventually you have to face it like I did. The good news is we're in a position to do something about it. Not just moan about it and what once was,” the admiral said, eying both officers as he came between the two. He crossed his arms and sat on the edge of White's bed. The commodore moved his legs aside slightly to accommodate him.

  “I don't know the big picture. I know the local sector to some degree.”

  “You've always known this sector the best, Admiral,” Subert said in a not quite snide tone.

  “True,” the admiral said. “But not good enough to avoid that damn Xeno attack in Senka,” he said. “But what is done is done now,” he said, shaking himself. “We have to move on. We are engineers; we're going to rebuild.”

  “Rebuild sir? This facility hardly needs it,” Subert said cautiously.

  “Sir, the next officer is ready to
be awoken,” a medic said off to their right. All three men turned to the medic. The admiral nodded.

  “Rebuild everything. I've got two yards right now. We're in a war.”

  “Another damn war,” Subert said in exasperation, throwing his head back against the pillow. “The Xenos?” he asked, eyes closed.

  “No, but close. Xenophobic humans. Horathians,” the admiral said. “You haven't gotten that far in the brief. It's there. They have been pirates in the sector and surrounding sectors for some time. Now they are consolidating into fleets and taking over worlds.”

  “Crap,” White muttered.

  “Yes. They are exterminating anyone not human,” the admiral said, turning to see Yao nearby. The Chimerians eagle eyes opened and then stared at him. “Anyone not perfect in their eyes is tortured and then killed. They are picking up where the Xeno's left off.”

  “Frack,” Subert grumbled. “More superiority idiots,” he grumbled.

  “Exactly,” the admiral said.

  “Well, we can get to work,” White said, flipping his legs off his bed. He stretched then got to his feet. “Where do you need us?”

  “Ops to start. We've got work crews all over the critical places on this station. I could only spare a tin can, so there is limited fuel. Make sure they don't stumble over anything they shouldn't. Keep power down,” Irons warned.

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Go through the brief when you have the time. Ray or Sprite can introduce you to the senior officers from Xavier. Her captain is Captain Sampson. He's young but good.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “What about me, sir?” Subert asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I'll give you a choice commodore, do you want to go over the brief now, check out engineering country here, or look at the strategic situation?” The admiral asked.

  Subert pursed his lips thoughtfully then shrugged. “All of the above eventually. For now I'll go get that cup of coffee and check out engineering sir,” he said.

  “Understood,” the admiral said as Subert got up, tested his legs, and then followed White out.