Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  “And power, don't forget power. You're using a lot of power. Power means fuel. Power means wear and tear on the machinery!” Blur said clearly incensed.

  “You let me worry about my machinery,” O'Mallory snarled. “Don't tell me how to do my job,” she growled, eyes flashing. The Telerite took an involuntary step backwards, bumping the Veraxin ops officer who was coming up behind him.

  “Excuse me,” Hir'ruk said, pushing the Telerite away. “I believe you are mistaken in your assumptions cargo master Blur. The Veraxin's shoulders were signaling mournful correction. “Right now, due to the admiral's efforts we are using the hyper collectors. We are not using power from the reactor which in turn means we're not using fuel from our supplies. I've calculated a significant savings which I presented at out last meeting I believe.”

  “Missed that,” Blur mumbled looking down at his claws. “But the usage of material must stop!” he demanded, looking up challengingly to O'Mallory and then the admiral.

  “It seems the chief and the Ops officers have spiked Blur's guns,” Sprite said amused to Irons. Irons gave a small nod.

  “Maybe you should run an inventory,” Sprite said. The organics looked around before settling on the admiral. He pointed to his arm and sighed. “That's right, Sprite, your friendly neighborhood AI,” Sprite said. Irons held up his right hand palm up so she could project her holo image for all to see.

  The crew hadn't experienced this. Oh they'd seen her avatar a few times but not like this. Sprite limited the image to a head shot. She nodded to the others and then continued her report.

  “I have your manifest and it's woefully incomplete. There are entire sections left off, and I can't update it since the security systems in some of this ship are broken still.”

  “You have a manifest?” Cora asked clearly interested. Sprite shot her a copy. She looked down at the tablet in her hands as files scrolled through it and then stopped. “I've never seen such a complete inventory,” she said, tapping at the index and then scrolling through it. “Wait, we have bolts of fabric?” She looked up and at the Telerite.

  “I believe so,” he said with a wary nod. He wasn't sure.

  “You believe so but you don't know for sure?” the captain asked.

  “Things have been a little up in the air. My inventory has been moved around a lot over the past several months. I've lost track of some of it,” Blur said defensively.

  “There is no optics in some of the cargo bays and storage areas. I did find a set of army powered combat armor. It's old and damaged but useable,” Sprite reported. From her tone she sounded interested.

  “Interesting,” Irons mused.

  “I'd like to trade for it,” Sprite said before he could say anything further. He looked down at her holo image in surprise.

  The captain cleared his throat. “And just what would an AI need with a suit of used combat armor?” he asked.

  “I think the admiral will need a hobby one of these days. Something to pass the time when he's bored. I know him. He started to get all maudlin and climbs the walls if he's idle for more than a half hour,” Sprite replied dryly.

  “Sounds about right,” O'Mallory said, shooting Irons an amused look. It sounded like she was getting control of her temper back. Good.

  “What are you willing to trade for it?” Blur asked. He always loved to negotiate.

  “Haven't they done enough to earn it?” Cora asked amused. Her husband shot her a look. The Telerite's face was more aggrieved and appalled. O'Mallory wasn't sure if she wanted to throttle the mole or not.

  The captain looked torn. Cora shot him a look. After a moment under her gaze he shrugged.

  Before Blur can ask any more stupid questions Cora smiled politely to Irons and then to Sprite. “It's settled then. The armor is yours then,” she said graciously. When Blur and the captain looked to object she shot them down with a glare. “Right?” she asked with teeth in her smile. “Hasn't he done enough?” she snarled politely. O'Mallory's eyes widened briefly in amused respect. That shut both males up and made all of them squirm. Sprite was amused.

  “I think we can do a few more things but we're down to just swapping parts now,” Irons mused.

  “More time for your classes?” Cora asked smiling to him. He shrugged. “Good. You deserve a break admiral. When we get to Antigua I'll make sure you get some downside on the planet. That is if you are staying with us for the next transit,” she said.

  He shrugged, ignoring the looks from the captain, Veraxin, and Telerite. If two out of three of them had their way he'd stay on the planet.

  “We'll see. What I can do is give you a class one industrial replicator. If...” He held up a finger as Blur opened his mouth. “If that is we can use the Scarab to wrangle a rock in Antiguan space and use it for the material.”

  “That's an idea,” the chief said with a nod, looking at the captain.

  “It is a thought,” the captain said.

  “And just think honey, since we are getting to Antigua two months ahead of schedule we can give the crew plenty of time for shore leave. I so want to visit the shops again.” She tucked her hand through his arm and then smiled winningly up at him. “I wonder if they have that nice red number I saw the last time we were there? I can't remember the shop so we'll have to check them all over again.”

  Irons winced at the captain's expression as the little woman tucked her arm through his and clasped his hand with hers. The captain was manfully trying not to look bleak and trapped. O'Mallory's lips pursed in an amused whistle.

  “And of course that also give the crew plenty of time to go about repairing and rebuilding the ship. Who knows honey! By the time we return we may not recognize the old girl!” She grinned and started to pull her husband along. “Wont that be nice? Beta band?”

  “Um...” The captain didn't know what to say. Sprite held her hand up to her mouth, stifling a laugh. O'Mallory looked ready to burst. Irons shook his head mentally.

  “Oh Sprite,” Cora turned to the AI in Irons' hand. “I'll have the suit transferred tomorrow if that is okay,” she said.

  “Of course ma'am,” Sprite replied with a nod.

  “Very good. See to it, Blur wont you,” she said, smiling to the Telerite and then dragging her husband along. “We have a date with our darling daughter. I believe that since we've got some material in stores a new bed spread is in order. I'll see if we can have it done soon. And matching throw pillows. I know how you like the frills dear,” she smiled. “Carry on,” she said, leaning back and waving dismissively to them.

  Irons turned with the others. He caught the captain's wince. He hid a chuckle as they made the turn around the corner and out of site. He turned to O'Mallory whose eyes were twinkling. She was dimpling a tight lipped smile.

  “Yeah, so pussy whipped,” O'Mallory breathed, too low for the others to hear apparently.

  “What was that?” The Telerite asked.

  “Nothing,” she said collecting herself. “We done here?” she asked.

  “Just about. Cora took my tablet so I'll upload the report to you chief,” Irons said.

  “Done,” Sprite said smugly. She pretended to buff her nails.

  “You are a cheeky miss aren't you?” O'Mallory said, looking down at the AI.

  Sprite looked up, hands on her hips. “Oh you have no idea,” she replied with a smile. Irons rolled his eyes. She turned her torso to look over her shoulder at him. “I saw that,” she said.

  “I know you did. But as I was saying, I think we've just got basic maintenance and cleaning left chief. For some reason we're running into problems with the cleaning bots. I've been too busy to look into it but if I get more free time I'll take a look.”

  “I'll get George or Yvonne to look into it,” O'Mallory said with a nod. “See what they come up with and then compare notes with you. Nothing from your end?” she asked, looking at Sprite.

  The AI shrugged. “It's happening out of sight of the cameras. Whatever is going on it's not accid
ental, that I'm pretty sure about.”

  “Intentional?” Hir'ruk asked.

  “It looks that way. Once? Twice? But three times?”

  “Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, three times is enemy action,” the admiral murmured.

  Sprite nodded, eyes flashing virtual fire. “Exactly. Something doesn't like the robots poking around in the recesses of the ship. Areas like the ducts. I'm not sure what it is or why.”

  “We'll find out,” O'Mallory said grimly.

  “Hopefully soon. Whoever or whatever is doing this is getting cute. Now they aren't just destroying the bots, they're making the parts disappear so we can't use the broken bits to replace them.”

  “Wait, breaking the bots? Something's breaking them? Physically? Smashing ship's property? Sabotage? Spirit of space! Why would anyone do that?” Blur demanded.

  “If we can catch them in the act we'll ask them. If they can answer,” O'Mallory said with a nod. “I'll check in with Teela and Bert.”

  “The security chief?” Irons asked.

  O'Mallory turned to him. “Haven't run into him yet? I'm surprised,” she said.

  “I've been busy,” he answered with a shrug.

  “Bert, short for Q'Bert. A nickname the Naga chose. Based on an ancient Terran video game character,” Sprite said, cocking her head and looking up and away.

  “If you say so,” O'Mallory replied with a shrug. “I know he's been sick off and on. He's an old Naga but wily. The life support has messed him up over the years. Doc's got him straightened out now so he's back on duty.”

  “Ah,” Irons said with a nod. Naga's were desert dwellers. They didn't do well in atmospheres that had a lot of water vapor in them. When exposed to a lot of humidity for even a short period of time they developed respiratory ailments. Sometimes the pneumonia was fatal if left untreated for long. Their skin also needed a certain amount of UV to function. It was odd, Naga could swim if they had to, they swam like a snake but they couldn't handle a lot of humidity in the air.

  “He tried to keep to the dry sections of the ship. I think fixing the security cameras and locks is a good idea. That way he can keep an eye on things,” O'Mallory said, giving the Telerite a look. “Right?” she asked.

  “I... Yes. Yes, we don't want anyone stealing anything. Not that I'm saying anyone would have course, I'm just saying it's something we need to...”

  O'Mallory held up a restraining hand to stop the Telerite. “We get the picture. I'm more concerned about a Denubian rat or some other pest myself.”

  “Yes yes, vermin! I've always had such problems with them in the food stores!” The Telerite bobbed a nod. The spikes on his back flexed.

  “The elves like hunting them,” Hir'ruk said. His antenna flicked. “I believe they have dozens of recipes for Denubian rat.”

  O'Mallory wrinkled her nose. “They would,” she said.

  “I understand it's quite the challenge to hunt the rats given that they are nearly the same size as the elves,” the Veraxin mused. “I believe it is religious somehow. Something of a coming of age rite. They hunt with just a spear or archery set. Primitive.”

  “Interesting,” Irons mused. He hadn't heard of any such coming of age rite for elves. He'd have to look into it later. It might be something that grew up on the ship.

  “Can you get the armor moving? We can start with that section of the ship if you'd like,” Sprite said to the Telerite.

  Blur looked from the holo to the admiral and then back again. Irons looked at O'Mallory. The chief shook her head and pursed her lips. “She means taking out the broken security system and replacing it with new,” she offered.

  “Oh,” the Telerite said.

  “Probably not all of it is broken,” Irons said. “Rats tend to chew through the wiring. For some reason they like ODN cable. Something about the shredded plastic making great nesting material I believe,” he said in disgust. He hated rats almost as much as he did insects. Veraxin and T'clock were of course exceptions to his phobia.

  “Probably,” the Veraxin said, signaling disgust.

  “Are they really born pregnant?” O'Mallory asked, wrinkling her nose.

  The admiral sighed and nodded in confirmation. “The wild ones are. Hermaphrodites,” Irons said looking at their resident hermaphrodite. Blur blinked at him from behind his sunglasses. “Diapause reproductive system too I believe.”

  “Which means?” O'Mallory asked wrinkling her nose.

  “Baby factory. They can control their reproduction. They can have as many as three dozen babies in various stages of development at any one time. They can shell them out rapid fire on demand. Something about having more rats out there to distract predators or pass on their genes. I'm not sure,” he said with a dismissive wave of a hand. “I'm no zoologist,” he said with a diffident shrug. He only knew it because the only way to get rid of them was to know your enemy.

  “All right. We'll start on the starboard side aft and work our way forward. We'll pick up where we left off and continue clockwise down the port side. If that's okay with you?” The chief asked looking at the Telerite.

  Blur blinked repeatedly for a moment and then nodded. She nodded. “Okay then. I'll scare up some electronics techs with nothing to do. I'll meet you in the hold in twenty admiral,” she said with a nod his way. Irons returned the nod as she left.

  “I too must depart. I need to rest and eat before my next shift,” the Veraxin chittered. “Many thanks admiral,” he said, bowing politely and then moving off.

  Blur looked uncertainly around and then shrugged. “I'll meet you there. I have a few things to attend to. Don't go in!” he ordered.

  “Of course not,” Irons said with a nod, turning away as the Telerite did. When he was safely out of ear shot his arm fell and the holo ended with a sparkle.

  “Want to tell me why I need army powered armor?” he asked quietly.

  “It's a project?” Sprite asked, clearly amused.

  “Sprite...” he sighed. He realized he sighed way too often sometimes. It had something to do with being around the AI he believed. Exasperation, yes that was it.

  “It's army issue. Sure it's not as good as marine armor, but it's something to go off of. A template at the very least. And besides, I'd think it being in the hands of say the military instead of civilians or oh, pirates would be better?”

  “Touché',” he muttered. “You made your point commander.”

  “Thank you admiral,” she replied. “It will be waiting for a proverbial rainy day.”

  “Thanks,” Irons said with a nod. He dodged a crew with a loaded cart and then continued on his way.

  Esmay demanded a rematch later that night. Sprite teased her about the only real way to get good is to get beaten. “To get better you need to play against an opponent that is your skill level or above. You'll never learn anything playing against someone who flounders around blind, not knowing what they are doing. It's no fun to be a bully and pound on someone who can't fight back,” Sprite said.

  “True,” Irons replied with a nod.

  “Then prepare to get beaten,” Esmay said, turning her chair around and sitting astride it. She cracked her knuckles in a big show of stretching and then wiggled her fingers as she pretended to examine the board thoughtfully. She picked up a virtual pawn and moved it out with a flourish. “Have at thee sirrah,” she said with a grin.

  “You asked for it lady,” Sprite said with a laugh.

  When the game was finished Esmay was disappointed by the score, he had still beat her three games out of five. But she felt good; she'd gotten herself in and out of some tough scrapes with him.

  “You're improving,” Irons said, nodding as the board dissolved.

  “Doesn't seem that way,” she drawled. “You still beat me three out of five,” she said sounding nettled by his comforting tone.

  “True,” he replied thoughtfully. She gave him a baleful look and then tossed a balled up napkin at him. He swatted it out of the air with a laug
h.

  “I'll get you eventually,” she growled dimpling and blushing.

  “Eventually? Hmmmm, well, I've been playing the game since I was two so you've got some experience to overcome,” Irons replied.

  “Damn,” Esmay said shaking her head. She'd heard he was over a century in age... that... the mind boggled at the thought.

  “It's not all spacial relationships and memorized moves. Sometimes it's the ability to adapt, to change your plan or stick to a plan that wins the day.” He didn't mention that reading your opponent and having a good poker face had something to do with it as well. One thing at a time.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Adapt or stay the course?”

  “I know it's hard to decide. Sometimes if it looks too good to be true it usually is,” he replied with a smile.

  “True. I thought I had you there dangling my queen out like that,” she said with a snort.

  “I'm not completely clueless,” Irons deadpanned. “You should try battlefield chess. Or fleet chess. It's harder.”

  “Harder?” she asked looking at him. “You...” she shook her head, trying to wrap her head around that. Tri-dee chess was hard for many people, translating a normally two dimensional board into three dimensions and watching all the angles... but adding even more variables to the game?

  “It's fun but a challenge,” the admiral replied. “Good practice for keeping your track of a fleet engagement. That is difficult.”

  “Oh I bet,” she said with a nod.

  “Thousands of ships, their individual status, the enemies, their status from what we can get from the sensors... what they are doing and what we're doing... plans within plans... and anything floating around to watch out for or use as a weapon or cover. Yeah, it's complicated.”

  Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. He sat back and picked up his stein of beer and took a swig. When he set it down she was still staring. “Of course that's the simple version. When you start adding additional variables like mission objectives, fixed and orbital defenses, enemy intentions and civilians in the battle space it really gets nasty.”