“Once we're finished here we'll knock off for dinner. Okay?” he asked. The class nodded. “Good. Let's get with it people before the cargo people bury us in boxes.”
Irons was amused by the galley. Normally the food they grew was processed and then either eaten right away or ground up and processed into a sludge and then fed to the crew as porridge. Now that they had food replicators and working recycling plants it was a bit different. Many people were overlooking the porridge so the chefs didn't make as much. The fruit was frequently overlooked as people made a run on the replicators.
To compete the cooks were now cutting back on the porridge and introducing real meals. For once they had the time to cook a proper meal and not a sludge that was barely edible. They were making fruit salads and other salads. The replicators couldn't deal with a salad the same as it could something simple. They were making fruit sorbets and smoothies as well. It was interesting to watch them adapt to the changes. He was curious to see if they started digging out old recipe files and how well they would adapt to following them. Only time as well as trial and error would tell.
The next day he had a class on nanites. He used the repair of the broken replicators as the hands on experience for them. They start with the broken one near the shuttle bay that had the cancerous growth.
Fara, Jen, and Martha had him explain a little about nanotech and its history. He explained that nanites needed an external control node to function. “There is only so much you can program into a molecular robot after all,” he said. They nodded in not quite understanding. They were taking a lot of what he said on faith since they didn't have the proper foundation.
What he said was true... from a certain point of view. There were ways to store information. He for instance had tons of information stored in molecular circuitry... and strands of artificial DNA in artificial cells in his body. He had an incredible amount of information stored within him, something he couldn't admit to anyone. It was all a part of Trinity of course.
“Nanites are a hive mind. You've got the basic dissemblers, and then the assemblers of various sorts, and behind them both are the controllers. The queens. They hold bits of the big picture and keep the nanite's coordination. They follow a program,” he explained.
“And we control the queens?” Fara asked wrinkling her nose.
“Yes.”
“One of the things that bothered me was how they could pick things apart but didn't accidentally do it to themselves,” Martha mused. “I always thought they had some sort of radio beacon.”
The admiral nodded. “Sometimes they do. By accident I mean,” Irons replied. “Or by intent if they're self destructing. Yes they do have an IFF ID, an Identifying beacon. They are programmed not to tear one another apart. But sometimes as they work one gets ahead of another and it could be destroyed.”
“Oh. Yeah what about that?”
“Coordination. That's the answer to your question. The queen and hive mind. They coordinate the actions of the nanites keeping order.” His hands held the small replicator. He pulled the power cable. It was now dead. Proteus had taken the extra precaution of releasing the self destruct command to the nanites in the pod anyway. The nanites inside were inert sand.
“Ah,” she said and nodded. He turned and set the pod down on a cart and then picked up its replacement.
“A single nanite can't store a great deal of information. But it can hold a piece of a program. The problem is the program changes as a part is built. If you kept nanites for every part of a program you'd need trillions of nanites for every cubic centimeter. Not going to happen in the real world. So, the queens receive their instructions from the machine interface. They then pass it on to the simple minded bots that do the real work.”
As he spoke his hands worked. His right arm had micro-manipulators out, pulling cables apart or plugging them in. In a minute the pod was back in place. He stepped back and watched as Martha gulped and stepped in holding a logic probe. She probed the IT and then frowned. She glanced at him. He cocked his head.
“Bad IT,” she said showing him the LCD.
He nodded. He had deliberately left it in for her to find as a sort of test. “You know what to do. Don't let me stop you,” he said. She nodded and started pulling the electronics. In a few minutes it was all out and on the recycling cart. Fara started handing her replacement parts starting with the motherboard.
“You have nanites right?” Fara asked him after a quiet few minutes. Irons looked at her. The class looked from her to him. After a moment he rumbled a sigh.
“What makes you say that?” he asked.
“Because I've seen what you can do. Not everything can be fixed with those manipulators,” she said. She indicated his right arm.
“Correct. Yes, I have nanites. I just replaced them.”
“Replaced them?” Jen asked. She sounded genuinely curious and not appalled or scared. Irons turned to her and shrugged as she paused with a board in her hand. Fara reached out and tugged it out of her hands.
“Replaced. When we were repairing the reactor... when it first went down I mean; I lost a lot of nanites. Proteus used them to affect some of the repairs to the control runs that we couldn't get to. But exposure to the radiation field forced them to self destruct.”
“Oh.”
“I couldn't bring them back to me either. It was a necessary sacrifice,” he said in the ensuing silence. The silence turned thoughtful.
“Are you sure they're all dead? And did you say you can make more? Wait... um...”
Irons smiled and nodded. “Yes and yes. Yes they're dead. Proteus and Sprite confirmed it. Yes I can make more. How is complicated and classified. Suffice to say it's done and we're about done. Right?” he asked as Martha seated the last part and started plugging in the cables. The optical date lines were dead easy; they were color and shape coded.
“Just about,” she said, plugging the power lines in and then reaching for the cover plate.
“Not quite. Run a diagnostic test again before you button it up. Always run a diagnostic before you do a final close up. It saves having to open the thing back up later if something's off.”
“Oh.”
“No kinks in the feed lines? No air bubbles in them?” he asked.
“No?” she said, sounding uncertain as she checked. Her hands felt the lineup. She reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a pen light and a mirror. She used the tools to look around and behind things and then up and down into the cavities she couldn't see. “I don't see any.”
“Good. When you start POST keep an eye out for any. Bubbles in the line are minor but they can be a pain in the ass if the unit is sensitive. This is a Yukio niner so yeah, it's fussy. If it senses a stop in the feed, either material or water like oh say by a loss of vacuum because air is in the line then it locks up.”
“Is that why I keep getting that error on deck eleven?” Jen asked. She'd tried to use what she'd learned from the admiral to repair a replicator on her own. It hadn't worked out quite well.
“Possibly,” Irons said giving her an amused look. “We'll find out for sure though later.”
She nodded, not looking at him as her hands played with the tool in her lap. Martha watched her screen and then the screen on the replicator. She checked for air in the lines, bleeding any air out that needed to be released. She wiped up the materials that came out by accident and then nodded when all lights turned green.
“Green is good to go,” she said. She turned to Irons. “Are we ready to button her up?” she asked. He nodded.
“Finally,” Jen muttered. They put the panel in place and then as a last step Martha pushed the test button and stepped back. The replication chamber glowed and then the delivery platform began to glow a blue as well. After a moment a shot glass appeared. She took it out and looked it over. “Looks good,” Jen said.
“Good. Moving on then...”
Blackhawk checked the countdown clock as he clocked in for his shift. Each shift was diff
erent, they required concentration. Usually in the lower notes he could sit back, talk, listen to people, even get up and stretch or get a cup of coffee in a straight patch. Not in the higher notes though. Things were coming at you a lot faster. You had to be on your toes and paying attention to avoid patches of turbulence. It was a nice challenge from the boring day in and day out tedium of the lower notes.
“Seventy days to go,” he said. “No wait, sixty eight,” he corrected himself. He really needed to get one of the replicator girls to go over the seats here. Or ask one of the fabric people to make a better cover. The last one hadn't lasted a year before it tore apart. Cheap Triang cotton.
“Yup,” Mark said looking up quickly and then back to his screen. His hands moved on the controls, steering them around a tangle. “Getting there,” he said.
“Yup,” Blackhawk sighed, taking his seat. “That we are. Good.”
“Yeah well, all that shifting around inside the cargo bays has made her wonky. Watch for it. She feels different,” Mark warned as Blackhawk reached out and touched his controls.
“Really?”
“Shifting of mass. Center of gravity is a bit off. It's not bad, it's gradual, but you can tell.”
“Slow on the helm?”
“Not so much. Just different,” Mark said. Which was true, they had been moving people slowly but were now picking up speed as the new quarter designs were roughed out.
“Something else to get used to. Okay,” Blackhawk said as he took his hat off and racked it. “Let's see how she handles then,” he said, stretching his fingers and then taking the yoke. “I've got it,” he said, using a finger switch to transfer controls to his station.
“Station one has the helm. Logged,” Mark said formally. “Good. I so need to hit the crapper.” He slapped Blackhawk on the shoulder. “Enjoy you lucky redskin,” he said getting up.
“Okay,” Blackhawk said, flicking his eyes to Mark and then back to the screen. He grimaced as he had to pitch the ship over to avoid a tangle and follow the plotted course. “Fun,” was all he said.
“Finally getting around to me?” Numiria asked early the next morning. “Should I be touched or honored?” she asked sarcastically.
Irons froze as he entered the infirmary. He'd really meant to help out here a long time ago, but had been swamped by other projects. Apparently that didn't go over well with the resident medic. Either that or the good doctor was being territorial... or sarcastic. “Did we come at a bad time doc?” He looked over to his class. Sharon and Fara shrugged. He had them and about a dozen other people. Most of them didn't quite realize what they were in for with this project. It beat sitting around staring at the bulkheads however.
Numiria flicked her ears their way. Her eyes bore into a few people before she looked away. “Not at all. I've got nothing better to do than to watch people tear my work space apart and then leave it a mess,” she growled.
“I don't go where I'm not wanted doc,” Irons told Numiria.
“Most of the time,” Sprite interjected into his ear. He shrugged it off.
“If you want me gone I'm gone. I thought you wanted repairs made and new equipment,” he said indicating the door.
The jackal's eyes widened. “You're serious?” He nodded. She straightened and scratched at an ear. Irons saw the signs of a canine who was embarrassed. “Sorry. Didn't need to bite,” Numiria said. “Muzzling myself now,” she said making a zipping motion over her mouth.
“Not a problem. Where would you like us to start?”
“Well... I was hoping you could do something about the layout. I've got a slow period now so maybe we could see about this. What I'd like...”
She tapered off unsure. Irons smiled. “We've done what we can in a lot of the other departments. I understand the chief blocked out at least ten days for you so we're at your disposal.”
“I'm flattered,” Numiria said dryly. “A whole ten days? For little ole me?”
The admiral tried hard not to roll his eyes. Numiria's sarcastic streak was in full force today apparently. “You were talking about layout. Do you want to start there?”
“What I really want is new equipment. But I know that's too much to ask for,” she sighed shaking her head. He cocked his head.
“I've been constantly complaining about the working conditions for years. It's about time someone did something about it. Though you did say you can't do much.”
“Doc, we can do a lot with what we've got. Starting with broken equipment. If you have any I think we can use it to either melt it down to make a new functional piece or we can make parts for it... or if you've got spares we could melt it down and make something else on your wish list.”
“Wish list huh?” she asked. She looked around the infirmary. It was dark; some parts of it had no light at all. Some parts had too much ventilation, others had no heat. Some areas had no power... they had to run extension cables. The walls were rough cut, patched over and most of the metal was raw. There was a leak from the upper deck that stained one wall and ceiling panel. The floor was the same way but covered in spills that had etched in to stain over the centuries. Yes, the idea of an upgrade was appealing.
He spread his hands. “Would you like the infirmary arranged by specialty? Surgery suite? Imaging? Better imaging equipment for that matter? MRI? Gravity scanner? Ultrasound? Endoscopes? X ray machines?”
Her eyes studied him. After a moment one manicured nail tapped on the metal tray next to her. Finally her ears flicked. “Yes to all of the above.”
He slowly smiled. “Then let's get started shall we?”
The first day was spent blocking out and planning what she wanted and how they would spend the next nine days achieving it. He used a holo emitter and a cad program to design the space. They did an assessment of the equipment on hand. The chief had sent in techs to repair equipment, when she could, but not on a steady basis. Most of the equipment was misaligned or not even up to calibration standards. Irons class was kept busy playing gopher most of the morning.
After lunch Irons spent the afternoon hooked up to one piece of equipment or another assessing it and either recalibrating it or designating it as scrap. They dug into the storage bays, pulling out old equipment and tools and going over them. Anything broken beyond repair was cataloged and then sent off to his replicator. As they moved along his class picked up on the basics and started doing the rough assessments on their own. Irons always has the last word however.
Anything not repairable was stripped of anything useable like paddles, cables, or probes and then sent off for recycling. Waste not want not. And why replicate something that still functioned?
“When am I going to get any of that back?” she asked near the end of the shift.
“Some of it will be later in the evening. I'm not sure,” Irons turned to Jen who had just come in with a plastic container. “Or some now,” he said nodding his chin her way. Behind Jen was a pair of students carrying additional plastic tote boxes. Numiria turned and blinked.
“Well that was fast,” she said. Slowly she smiled.
“It's not equipment doc, its medical supplies you had on the wish list,” Jen said with a smile. She proffered the box to the medic. Numiria pointed to an exam table. Jen set the box down there and then opened the lid. “I need the box back for the next load. It's easier to carry a bunch of stuff than handfuls.”
“True,” Numiria said, nodding to a nurse who got off her stool and came over. She started cataloging the new material. By the time she was done the nurse was smiling slightly.
“Good,” Irons said with a nod. “Next batch coming anytime soon Jen?” he asked. Jen paused with the box tucked against her hip and turned.
“I think we've got the MRI scanner now. I think that's what Martha said it was before she went off shift. It's big and has a lot of parts so it's sucked up a lot of material. We should have the last part in a half hour or so. You'll have fun putting it together I suppose.”
“Cool,” Numiria murmure
d.
“Well, since we're about done here, you need your bay we'll go over the plans and go take a look at the other infirmary.”
“The other one?” Numiria asked. “I forgot about it.”
“Well, you'll remember it soon enough. You're going to have to shift over to it tomorrow remember? We're going to need to clear this space so we can work here. I don't want anything getting contaminated or a patient getting hurt if something happens.”
Numiria nodded. “Okay,” she said with a look at the nurse. “Get the second shift on that when they report in. I want them to start shifting if it's slow. And don't slack off.”
“Okay,” the nurse said. She wasn't sure how the second shift would take it. Second and third shift were coasters. Everyone on board knew that the doctor was on first shift so they came then to get treated. Third shift was just about dead since it was the night shift. All they did was hand out band aids or triaged someone until the doctor could be woken up to take over.
“You can get the cargo techs to lend you a hand I bet. If you contact the bridge or whoever is in charge of them I bet they can get work parties organized to give you a hand with the grunt work. Save the medical staff doing the heavy labor. They just have to supervise.”
“Yeah. But the cargo people will break stuff,” Numiria said, frowning. She wasn't happy about that idea, but she knew her people could only shift so much.
“Find out. Anything they break take it out of their hide. And of course anything broken...” He indicated the patiently waiting Jen.
Numiria followed his wave and then nodded to the fabrication tech. “Yes, true,” she said. “Thank you Jen. Bring the loads to infirmary two from now on. I'll let them know you're coming,” she said.
“Okay doc, you say so,” Jen replied with a nod as she left.
Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) Page 20