“I was comparing the territorial nature of the dubious real world with in here,” Sprite said as she worked.
“Oh?”
“The um... territorial nature.”
“Lost a few bots?”
“Nine hundred and fifty one... no two... no three now,” she grumbled.
He chuckled. “That's normal in here. Most people aren't polite enough to just flick the crawlers away anymore. They can be replaced.”
“A nice here I am firewall would work,” she groused, finishing another module and opening another. She slammed it shut immediately, antivirus protocols kicking in as a rabbit tried to eat its way out. “Rabbit,” she growled, wrapping the module up into a quarantine bubble and then deleting it.
Averies bobbed a nod. “Yeah, you get those sometimes. Especially in the older files, or the files that are accessed a lot.”
“Is it often?”
“Not so much. We're usually clean. I try to run a clean net. But I haven't scanned these old files... come here you little bugger... ah, got it,” he grunted pulling a string out. “As I was saying, I haven't scanned some of this... oh another module? Where did that come from... wait an entire bank just came online!” he said startled.
Sprite looked up from her efforts to recreate the module from its header file. Indeed, her shadow was reporting that another memory center had come online.
“The admiral,” she said.
“He's good,” Averies said. Already the others were coming out of their shells to look at the restored bank. Sprite threw a firewall around it. That would allow them to look but not touch.
“He's very good. He needs help though.”
“I thought that was what we're doing here?” Averies asked indicating the AI core.
“No, not just us. And our retarded friend here will be of some help. No I'm talking more fleshy help. I'll have to have a word with captain Chambers of the Kiev again,” she sighed.
“Problems?” Averies asked.
“Aren't there always?” she retorted. He chuckled again.
“I wish we had access to the shuttle. This would be...” she tugged at a recalcitrant code string with a read only tag attached to it. “Come on...” she reset the strings tag and tried again but it reset itself back to read only in a microsecond. “Damn!”
“Shuttle?” Averies asked.
“I've got the database set up with all sorts of goodies. There isn't a whole lot of memory available but it's filled with all sorts of tools I could be using right about now. We could be using right about now. That would make this go a lot faster.”
“Oh.”
“When you're an AI you tend to save the oddest things from time to time,” she said in way of explanation. “I did a similar job on Anvil a year ago. I saved all the changes to the AI Smithy. I was working on another AI for Destiny but her captain didn't want an AI for his ship.”
“He's silly then. Or stupid.”
“No, just set in his ways,” she sighed. She logged the bad string and then moved on. She couldn't delete it, not without having a copy on hand to replace it. She'd have to find another fix for it later.
“Admiral,” Sprite said, surprising him. Irons looked up.
“Problem?”
“This would go a little easier if I had access to the shuttle's net. I need some files and tools to get this done.”
Irons frowned. His right arm was tearing into another IO bank. There were a lot of damaged IO banks. Some had apparently been deliberate. Sid had told him the war between the AI Draco and the sane people had been fierce. Some of this was scorched Earth... or at least scorched memory tactics. He was cutting out the links to where Draco was to keep the AI from using it though. Once burned and twice shy. That would drop the station net into subnets, hopefully isolating the AI. He was using the same tactic he had been using to try to contain the tribes and Dilgarth, forming a box with the subnets and then cutting the subnets up into smaller more isolated boxes.
“I can look into it when we're done here,” he said. Proteus was just about finished with what he could do here. The rest of the repairs needed to be a full swap and replace effort. Oh sure his nanites could rebuild them from scratch but he didn't want to expend the time and effort doing it. That was what tools like the industrial replicator tucked away in his shuttle was for. To take the burden off him so he could focus on the bigger picture, not get swamped by small projects like this. He grimaced as the thought registered in his consciousness. He really was focusing on small things instead of the bigger picture. Okay, time to regroup and refocus.
He also needed to go to the shuttle to replace the replicator's nanites. He kept forgetting about that. If he wanted parts... he sighed to himself coming to a decision. “I'll definitely get the link up. It will have to be encrypted Sprite.”
“Of course,” she said.
“No concern about Draco?” he asked.
“Not yet. I'll say let sleeping dragons lie for now Admiral. We've got enough problems to deal with right here,” she said.
“True.”
When the IO bank was finished Irons pulled the cables leading to the systems Draco was inhabiting. Then he checked the systems.
There was no way to access his shuttle remotely of course. He'd taken measures to prevent that in case of enemy action. Sprite could access the communications but only that. What he could do is set up a shielded link... ah; Sprite ever resourceful had already done it for him. He nodded. Then it was time to unjack and take a walk.
“Sprite...”
“Coming,” she said. He felt her presence return. “Miss me?” she teased.
“A little,” he said absently. “Status?”
“I left Averies with a to do list. I'm hoping our little side trip will help out. Can we bring some stuff to well...”
“Replicate?” he asked, going over to the hatch. There was a pile of scrap there waiting. He'd tossed scrap over to it over the past day and a half. It was a good sized pile. He tucked a couple of pieces under his left arm.
“Is that all you're going to take?” she asked, sounding a little dismayed.
“I need to be mobile and have my right arm free in case of danger Sprite,” he said, scanning the companionway on the other side of the hatch. He was still in armor, that wasn't a problem but it did slow him down. It was clear. Just to be on the safe side he checked his seals and then did another scan, this time at longer range. There was... no it was clear. The signal life signs he was picking up were animal, not sentient. Good but not great. Something else to deal with.
He'd wondered how some of the damage could have happened. Now he was pretty sure vermin as well as sabotage had played a part. If it was Denubian mice then he was pretty sure a lot of both. The damn vermin were a pain to any spacer.
He made his way to the shuttle without incident. It was a half hour journey one way, navigating around the convoluted path of closed doors. His crap cutting method of entry made it a pain in the ass. He considered going into some of the areas but each time the sight of a venting gas leak or chamber filled with floating debris made him change his mind quickly.
He also thought about going to an airlock, exiting the station and then making his way around the exterior. It was tempting but no, the diversion would take almost as long just in cycling through the locks as it would getting their on foot.
When he was in sight of the shuttle lock he snagged a couple of other pieces of scrap and then went into the shuttle. Sprite accessed the lock controls as he approached the door. He felt the communications handshake. He also felt someone, a trace of someone looking over his no, her shoulder. He didn't like that.
“I know, we've got company,” she muttered to him. “Price you pay. Bet they are curious to see if we're going or not,” she said.
“We're not. At least not yet.”
He entered the shuttle and popped the lid of the replicator with a hand. He set the scrap inside and then sent a signal to Proteus to release some of the nanites. When P
roteus was finished he closed the lid. It would take about five minutes for the nanite seed to feed on the block of material to grow and restore the replicator. Once that was done it would devour the remaining scrap.
“Admiral I suggest you eat. It's been eighteen hours since we've entered the station and over thirty since you last ate.”
“Good point,” Irons said, tapping at the controls. He watched the replicator glow, slowly coming back to life then he turned to the food replicator. He sent a mental signal to his suit to dissolve his helmet as he typed at the controls, ordering a platter of energy bars and an energy drink.
“What no coffee?” Sprite teased. “What are you making?”
“I'm making IO boards and some processor chips,” he said.
“No memory? We need memory,” she said.
“It's on my to do list. But if I can get you more processors?” he asked. He'd noted a bank of processors that were in good order but cut off from the main net.
“I'd gladly accept them and then ask where is the memory?” Sprite asked, puckering her lips in an impish smile.
“Everyone's a comedian,” he growled, taking the power bar and biting into it. He sighed and sat in the chair as he masticated in peace.
“I ah... can't carry the data with me admiral,” Sprite said.
He swallowed. “You mean you want me to access the ship's net. Are you sure their end can handle it?” he asked, taking a drink.
“No, that's why I asked for memory. I was going to wait to send myself the files until we had it installed...”
“We meaning me. Or at least Proteus,” he said dryly. She spread her virtual hands on his HUD. “Fine.” He took another bite. “A memory module it is. I'll have to get more scrap. And I want to fix the life support in the admin too. And fix some stuff on the way back.”
“Why?”
“To make it easier to get back and forth of course,” he said. She sighed. So, her return was going to be delayed. Great.
Irons finished the first bar off, dusted his hands off and then checked the replicator. He pulled the tray and then dropped in the second helping of scrap then went out for more.
He spent a good half hour replicating parts until he had quite the load. He looked at it and frowned.
“Out smarted yourself again?” she teased. He snorted irritably.
“You're a fine one to talk,” he said.
“Sure, just gripe at the being with a fix to your little peccadillo,” she said with a smirk. He growled. Her smile widened a little and then she shrugged. “There is a hover pallet jack outside this compartment down the corridor and in the third room on the left.”
“Functional?” he asked.
“Is that ever going to stop you?” she asked, raising a virtual eyebrow.
“Not for long,” Irons replied getting up and moving off in the indicated direction. He recovered the jack and cart and returned with it in short order. Of course it was loaded down with scrap when they returned.
“What's that for?” she asked.
“Well,” he said putting the first load in. “It occurred to me that we need more help. Since I can't scare any organic help up right away, I figured a couple of robots might do the job.”
“Oh,” Sprite said as he tapped at the controls. A repair bot began to form. It was of course military issue. Hardy and durable, perfect for this environment. Hopefully it would last longer than the recon robots. All three had bought it in their little first adventure on the station.
When the first bot is finished he removed it and then set it up to let its twin out when it's finished building. “I'm going to have these two work on improving the path here,” he said.
“Which is why you added replicated parts for doors and life support to the list I suppose,” Sprite said.
“Correct,” Irons said. He filled a back pack with food and small items and then pushed the hover pallet out of the shuttle. He waited until the lock closed and locked behind him before moving on.
They of course had to stop along the way, unloading and using some of the parts. It was worth the time though, at least in his eyes. She didn't complain when he repaired a few communication lines and even a remote access node for her.
When they arrived in admin she dived right into the net. She'd left her shadow inside the net. It reported she'd lost half her bots. She snarled and released a bot to clone itself a few hundred times and then sent it off to crawl in other directions. Then she turned back to the dumb AI.
“All done? That was longer than expected,” Averies said with a hint of reproach in his voice.
“Sorry, fleshies, what can I say,” she said with a virtual shrug. He chuckled again. She found his presence both an intrusion and somehow comforting at the same time.
“Just let me know if I'm butting in,” he said.
“No, you're fine,” she said, opening the communication's link to the shuttle as the admiral started plugging in the storage memory for her. Good.
“I've got some tools here. Tools and modules. We can clone some and... damn it that's mine! Leave it be!” she snarled, slamming a firewall up in between an intruder and her flash memory module.
“Oh, sorry,” the dumb AI responded. She snarled as she looked it over. It had deleted and overwritten some of her repairs with its own presence, bloating itself even larger than before.
“You know what? I'm taking you offline. You need a tune up in the worst way. Attitude adjustment for one. You'll thank me for it later,” she said, sending the key codes to shut the AI down.
“Just like that?” Averies asked, surprised.
“Just like that. It's a dumb AI. You get used to it,” Sprite said firmly. She wasn't up for any more nonsense.
Fortunately the AI were the same make as Smithy and since she had the changes she had done with him logged, it was easier to repair their cores when they were taken offline. Even the stubborn strings were easy to repair once she worked out the methodology.
Each was better optimized to handle the station management functions than she was so she reluctantly brought them online when she was finished. It took all of an hour to get the AI sorted out and back online.
With the hardware repairs the admiral was making to some of the computer systems there was a small fraction of more memory space available. Still not enough though she decided.
“Better,” Averies said. “Not enough but much better,” he said, virtual hands releasing one of the AI. The AI finished its POST check and then went about its business.
“It's a start you mean,” Sprite said slightly vexed. What did they want a miracle? Like the admiral said, engineers were miracle workers, but even miracles took time! Time and a whole lot of effort on someone’s part to pull off properly. She shook her virtual head at the thought. She was becoming more organic... more human every day. The admiral was certainly rubbing off on her. She'd have to look into that later.
“What's next?” Averies asked, slightly amused.
“I'll let you know,” she said dryly.
“Any word?” O'Mallory asked. George looked up and then shrugged at her expression.
“Depends on what you're asking about. I haven't heard anything about Yvonne if that's who you're asking about,” he said.
Quinna grimaced. Yvonne was taking Art's death hard. She hadn't known Art was her son. Not until George had told her when the captain had reported the news of his death and the death of the others over the ship net. It had come as somewhat of a shock to her. If she had known would she of done anything differently? That haunted her. She bet it haunted Yvonne too.
She'd paid her respects last shift to Yvonne's parents. The doctor had issued Yvonne a sedative so she could sleep and deal with the grief in her own way. She'd paid her respects and then left the area quickly feeling guilty about feeling relief at not having to face Yvonne so soon.
She shook herself. She needed to focus. With Yvonne out and her people on the hull she was pulling eighteen hour shifts until they left the system.
“No, the hull. Sitrep?”
George shrugged. “Coming along. We can't do anything else about the pods but we've been pulling hull plate and replacing and patching things. It's going well. We've also replaced our long range sensors. Irons replicated some of them just before we exited from scraps he'd saved up. That's helped out a bit.”
Quinna nodded. “Any word from the admiral?”
“He's in control of the station now and is working on repairing the administration. His AI reported that he'll be ready for volunteers at anytime. I think the captain's holding out on that though.”
“Oh.”
“We've got the sublight drive down so we're not going anywhere chief,” George gave O'Mallory a look. She smiled a little. That had taken a bit of careful timing to pull off. She needed Irons back to handle some replicator jobs though; they were starting to fall behind on her schedule.
“I've got about two hundred volunteers asking to go over to the station. Most without suits. I'm fielding calls every few minutes; I had to get Darlene to handle them. It's crazy. Even with everything that happened they still want to go,” George said, shaking his head.
O'Mallory cocked her head. “Really?”
“Yeah. I get a call every couple of hours from some. The Warners are particularly interested in going.”
“They were friends of the admiral,” Quinna murmured as George pulled up the list on his screen and scrolled through the long list of names. “Do you have them broken down by specialty or anything?” she asked. A few names she recognized. Some were related to those lost. Hopefully they wanted a fresh start not revenge for their lost loved ones.
George shook his head. “Just tossing names onto the list,” George said with a shrug. “I've been sort of busy with everything else going on,” he said sheepishly.
“Fine,” she said looking it over and pursing her lips. She leaned forward, studying the names and tracing a finger over a few she knew. A couple like the Taurens were a surprise. Gwen, Torg, and Riff... why the hell did they want to go?
Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) Page 46