Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  “I did find something intriguing. Something... there are heat sources in there but I can't refine the data at this distance and with so much metal in between us and the signals. Whatever it is it's deep in the station, close to the core. I'm also picking up some faint bio signals moving around,” Sprite reported.

  “Moving?” Irons asked shocked as he switched from the exterior communications to the AI. Sprite put the readings on the shuttle's main view screen, overlaying the current view and then zoomed in. He could see something moving around. Definitely alive.

  “Oh now isn't that a kick. Our Ghost station really is haunted,” Sprite said. The admiral couldn't help but agree. Suddenly things were a whole lot more interesting and dangerous.

  Instead of finding a boat bay they docked to external airlocks on the ring. The spot lights from the shuttle's washed over the locks. Irons did a careful and thorough inspection to make sure the lock wasn't fouled. “Look! Look! Power! The airlock! It's lighting up! Someone knows were here and is putting out the welcome mat for us!” Gus said, getting excited when the lock lit up.

  “Not quite son,” Irons explained that it is just the florescent paint markers reacting to the spot lights.

  “Oh,” Gus replied deflating in disappointment. Irons gave the lad an encouraging smile and then lets the robotic arm do its work.

  “You're not doing it manually?” Gus asked surprised. He sounded a little disappointed.

  The admiral smiled and shook his head. “I have a docking arm for a reason. Normally I'd let the station handle it. Since it can't we'll do it on our end. Technically this is berthing not docking since we're using the arm.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yup, just some trivia to pass the time,” Irons said with a smile. The kid looked at him and then snorted. He was nervous, fidgeting in his seat a lot.

  “What we're really doing is letting the machinery do the work. That's what it's there for after all. I know people like to show boat, but it's smarter and safer to get the it done the right way,” the admiral explained, hoping the kid would understand and listen. The arm reached out and found the node welded to the airlock. It locked it's tip onto it and then pulled the shuttle in for a perfect linkup of airlocks. There wasn't even a bump.

  “What about style?” Barry asked over the radio link.

  “You mean showboating?” Irons asked. Barry pitched end over end in front of them making them instinctively duck. His shuttle spun a 360 before dropping down to the lock. Irons shook his head. “At least he's pointing in the right direction,” he said.

  “Oh?” Barry asked. “Oh so I am,” he said, looking over them to the Kiev out in the dark beyond. There was a slight grin in his voice as he docked with a bump. Irons winced as the collar around the dock compressed and then pushed back. He could see ice cracking and drifting off like snow. “Any points for style?” Barry asked with a grin in his voice.

  “I'll let you know if you've got docking integrity,” Irons said.

  “Everyone's a critic,” Barry said mockingly. The admiral's artificial eye zoomed in to view the other shuttle's cockpit. Barry was busy flipping switches. “What do you mean it won’t work?” he demanded over his shoulder. He turned to look at the admiral's shuttle with a scowl. “How'd you know?” he demanded.

  “The bump. We felt it over here,” Irons said. “That and I saw ice drifting off. Which meant expansion. Go look for another lock if that one won’t hold pressure,” he ordered.

  “Roger,” Barry sighed, looking over his shoulder. His copilot looked nervous.

  “That means we'll be further apart,” Barry said after giving up and undocking after a minute. “I don't like being out of mutual support range,” he said.

  The admiral frowned. Truth to tell he wasn't happy about the idea either. “Find a dock Barry, one step at a time. I'd tell you to take mine after but I don't want to have to pull people off the hard way if we run into more than we bargained for,” he said.

  “Roger,” Barry said.

  “Besides, we find power on this station then we can always find a nice boat bay for you to land in. Since you are so used to landing on air fields and boat bays,” the admiral teased. He wasn't about to let Barry off the hook for his little bump. At least not yet. Maybe a little ribbing would make Barry wise up some and trust the machinery a little more.

  “Funny,” Barry growled. “I'm pulling back.”

  “Scarab one to um... Yvonne? Admiral? Who do I report to?” The confused pilot asked.

  “Me,” Yvonne said firmly. She glanced at the admiral's back but Irons didn't object. “What do you need Scarab one?” she asked.

  “I'm sort of the third wheel here. Permission to get the hell out of dodge and go play with Kiev?” the pilot asked. From the sound of it he sounded peeved.

  “Do we need him for anything?” Yvonne asked, looking at Irons.

  The admiral looked over his shoulder to her and studied her. “I don't think so. Not right now. Can you ask them to do a survey of the solar panels, reactors, and heat exchangers before they head out?”

  “Sure,” she said with a nod. “Can I ask why?”

  “In case we want to hook them back up. Fix any damaged ones,” Irons said. “Make sure they send us the feed.”

  “Oh. Are we staying long?” Yvonne asked.

  “Well, there is an idea of putting a lot of the excess passengers off on a station or another ship. Either building one or...” He indicated the station with his free hand. She looked at the station and then blinked, suddenly the concept sunk in.

  “Do you think it's worth it?” she asked, ignoring Gus's gasp. Gus was staring at the admiral.

  “It's possible. If the people inside don't object. I bet we could turn this place around in a year.”

  “Oh,” Yvonne said and then went back to looking at her station.

  Before allowing anyone in Irons deployed a set of newly replicated hovering sensor bots. Military grade of course. There were three, each a meter in diameter. They each had weapons and robotic arms tucked away in bays in their body. They deployed centimeter sized relays at corners and intersections. The relays picked up and repeated radio signals between the team and the bots.

  “Listen up,” Irons said as the last bot cycled through the airlock. “I haven't detected any sign of nanites or pathogens but that doesn't mean the station is safe. Stay in your suits, play it safe. The first task of the bots are to map a path to the other shuttle.”

  “Roger,” Barry said. “What's it look like in there?” he asked.

  “Rough,” Irons said. He could see the video feed from each of the three bots through his implants. The station was a mess, dark and filled with broken bits. There weren't any bodies, just suspicious stains that the flood lights illuminated. One of the stains looked like it had been licked. Not a good sign. Fortunately there weren't any heat signatures around the docking port.

  “I'm still not getting anything from the station net. If there is even an active station net,” Sprite informed him. He looked at screen three. Sprite had taken it off mapping to plug into a nearby computer terminal. The terminal was powered down. The bot plugged in its own power and then started feeding commands as the system tried to boot.

  “Easy there Sprite, civilian grade. Let it go through POST first at least,” Irons cautioned.

  “It's filled with viruses,” Sprite sighed in disgust. “I've got a partial map and nothing else,” she replied

  “Good. Wait, nothing?” he asked.

  “The viruses overwrote just about everything else. The map was hardwired.”

  He nodded. “Oh. Partial map?”

  “Yes. Part of the file was corrupted though,” she said, sounding annoyed.

  “Great,” Irons said. “Can you clean it and add it to what we know before uploading it to the others?”

  “Working on it now admiral. I'll have it in five minutes or less,” Sprite answered, sounding distracted. Irons nodded. That would have to do.

  “Load u
p on spare lights and batteries folks. It's dark as spit in there. No lights except what comes from the florescent safety paint and the port hole windows,” the admiral ordered when Sprite signaled she was done a few minutes later.

  “Great. What's the atmo like?” Yvonne asked. Irons was being very thorough and security conscious. He was also moving slower than she expected.

  “Thin. It's about ten degree's C in there so it's tolerable for brief periods. It would be like being on top of a mountain. There are a lot of nasty trace chemicals. Most likely from burned wiring,” Sprite informed them.

  “Great.”

  “Not much water vapor in the air. I am picking up signs of droppings though,” Sprite said. Yvonne and the security team froze. Savo looked at the other shooters and then rammed an ammo clip home into his pulser.

  “Recent?” Irons asked the AI.

  “No, not fresh from the look of it,” Sprite replied. He watched bot two pause near a dropping pile to poke it with an arm for a moment. It took a sample and then returned to mapping. “So far the map checks out,” Sprite reported.

  “Good,” Irons said, watching bot one place a relay on a wall at eye level.

  “No sign of nanites. No bodies either.”

  “Interesting,” Irons said. The lack of bodies wasn't so worrisome on its own. But droppings meant something feral in the station. But then again it could have been left behind a week ago, or six centuries ago.

  “Anyway we can get power in there?” Yvonne asked. She was looking at the tablet in her gloved hands. The screen was split into four; the three viewpoints of the bots and the fourth screen had a map of their whereabouts.

  “No,” Irons replied shaking his head. “At least not yet. I brought along a spare generator but I don't want to tap it here. Why?”

  “Because there are a lot of jagged edges in different places that could hole a suit,” she said, watching a bot hover over an open access panel. The view shifted to look down. It was a long long loooong way down. The light didn't reach bottom, it was an inky ominous well. “It looks like something chewed its way through the deck here,” she muttered.

  “Lovely,” Adam muttered. “What else do we need?” he said.

  The radio crackled. “Kiev to away crew, what's the hold up?” the communication's tech asked.

  “We're using robots to scout the area,” Yvonne said, not looking up from her screen. “Just give us some time. I don't want to wander around blind.”

  “Roger,” the communication's officer replied sounding impatient.

  “Think we should get going?” Adam asked.

  “They can damn well wait. I'm busy here,” Yvonne said. She muttered something as a camera panned over claw marks. Irons caught them on his HUD and winced. That was definitely not a good sign. A lot of aliens could make claw marks like that but only a few were dreaded and feared. And for good reason. Hopefully they were long gone.

  “Admiral don't you think you should put the rest of your suit on?” Gus asked. He indicated the admiral's bare right arm. Irons smiled.

  “I'm covered son. Don't worry about it,” he said patting him on the shoulder as he climbed out of the pilot's chair. Already his helmet was morphing around his head. Gus stared wide eyed. Irons turned. “Coming?”

  “Yeah uh, sure,” Gus said getting up hastily and following.

  Irons paused in the central bay. The room was crowded; he had more people than the launch usually took on. That was fine. He nodded to the security people brandishing weapons. Everyone had some sort of side arm. He picked up spare power and life support packs instead.

  “Aren't you going to arm up admiral?” Gus asked, taking a pistol and checking it carefully under Adam's quiet eye. He glanced at the big guy but the guy just nodded his chin to him to pay attention to what he was doing.

  “No, I'm more heavily armed than any of you,” Irons said quietly, picking up the spare generator by the shoulder straps and shrugging it on. He was tempted to carry an additional weapon but the spare generator had to be carried by someone. Besides, with it handy he could tap it whenever he needed.

  “Damn. That thing must be two hundred and fifty kilos!” Yvonne said, shaking her head. She'd seen how strong the admiral was, but it still boggled her mind that a Terran could easily lift that thing.

  “No problem,” Irons said. He adjusted the straps and then nodded to the team. “We're going to pressurize each ship above what's out there. The positive pressure should keep anything from migrating into the ship. We're also going to keep the airlocks closed so don't panic when the door closes behind you.”

  “Roger,” Barry said over the link.

  “Keep a cool head and know your surroundings. It is extremely easy to breach a suit in there. Watch for the cables as well. They may not look live, but looks can be deceiving.”

  In groups of two they cycle through the lock and into the station's lock. Power flowed from the shuttles into the locks, allowing them to function. However centuries of spot welds from exposure to the sun had locked the doors good and tight. It took a bit of grunt work to get the outer doors open and closed again each time.

  “Note, fix that,” Yvonne grunted under the strain.

  “If we stick around,” Adam said. “Which I doubt.” He was looking around nervously.

  “I dunno, it's a fixer upper but it's got enormous potential,” Irons said.

  Adam gave him a look. “Enormous is right. A fellow can easily get lost in this warren. The place is a maze.”

  “And we're the rats,” Franko muttered. Irons turned. Rat was right in the electronic tech's description. He was long and lean with a rat like face. He constantly twitched his nose and had a hard time keeping still. His eyes were black and beady. He had short brown hair on his head, shaved on the sides but a bit poufy on top. His limbs were stick thin. He looked about ready to collapse under his twenty kilogram load of equipment and suit pack.

  “Try to keep up Franko,” Adam said looking back his way. He wasn't sure why the guy was trying to haul that much gear. Maybe he was showing off for the girls. He'd tried to hit on Yvonne and Fara a few times, maybe he thought if he proved he was a big strong man he'd get his foot in the door. Fat chance.

  “Stuff it Adam. I'm fine,” Franko snarled, shifting about. “I don't see why we have to be in suits though. It's a pain in the ass.” He'd actually planned on running light but Yvonne had said she wanted the kit bag and everyone else had grabbed something else. Irons had that damn monster generator so that left Franko holding the bag. Hopefully he could dump it out and snag something good when no one was looking.

  “I for one don't want to be exposed to disease,” Yvonne said as an aside, still focused on the tablet. She oriented herself according to it, turning left and right. “They are all over the place,” she muttered.

  “What is?” Adam asked alarmed.

  “The remotes,” Yvonne answered.

  “One of them is set to find the other shuttle. The other two are spiraling out in a mapping mission. I've tasked one to find power sources and computer terminals. Actually they all are on the lookout but I want to keep the bot three on task until it's linked up,” Sprite explained.

  “Ah,” Yvonne said, nodding. “That explains why,” she said, looking over her shoulder as the lock cycled again. Another pair of people came through, looking around.

  “Damn,” Gus said, looking around.

  “Thought you were supposed to stay with the ship?” Yvonne asked. Irons looked back and sighed.

  “He was. Too late now,” he said. He didn't want Gus going back in case something was in here. At least not until he had a report. From the look of Gus he was a little scared but not willing to go back either.

  Gus motioned to go back but Irons shook his head no. “No, you'll contaminate my ship. You're here now. I can keep an eye on her with my implants anyway,” he said.

  “Oh,” Gus said, shoulders hunched.

  “It's done and over with now lad. Move on,” Irons said, returni
ng to look around the companionway.

  “There is a loader bot up ahead. And a hover pallet,” Sprite informed him.

  “There is?” he asked.

  “Bot's passed over them,” the AI reported, playing back the imagery. “Both have been scavenged,” she said.

  “Which doesn't tell us much. It could have happened today or centuries ago,” Yvonne said looking up. “This is cool and all but we're not getting anywhere,” she said.

  “We're waiting on everyone. I don't want to go off and have people get separated and lost,” Irons cautioned. She nodded. Fortunately the last person cycled through. She nodded to the guard. “You are on babysitting duty?” she asked looking from the guard to Savo. Savo looked back and gave a thumbs up. The guard seemed to sigh but stepped in front of the lock and stood there.

  “All right then. Destination admiral?” Yvonne asked.

  The admiral pointed in the direction he wanted to go. “The loader bot. I want to access it. From there I'd like to link up with the other shuttle and then hit admin. We need to get a handle on this station. See if there really is anyone sentient still alive on it.”

  “Do you think it's a pirate's den?” Sprite asked. Irons paused with the crew. He looked back to Savo who was pursing his lips.

  “Now there is a thought. If pirates knew it was here it would make a lovely place to store loot. Spare equipment, fuel, maybe even spare crew or prisoners. Keep a wary eye out people.”

  “Roger,” the crew responded.

  They paused at the loader a few minutes later. Irons knelt next to it and jacked in. He ignored the others as they stared at the robot.

  “Never seen something like this,” Derrick said.

  “What a bot? Course you have,” Franko said with a sniff.

  “No man, this. It's got forklift arms,” Derrick said. Which was true. The loader bot was two meters tall, stocky, with green and yellow plastic cover plates over the limbs and torso. It's head was a cylinder with lenses and sensors built in. The torso was broad; it seemed almost too big for the smaller legs. The robot looked a little like a caricature of a gorilla. This one however had some interesting claw marks here and there. It's head had been torn up and it's power supply was missing.