Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  “The admiral will meet you at the dock,” Sprite said from the overhead. They looked up.

  “Sorry, didn't mean to intrude. I was making my hourly report to the bridge when you came out of the captain's quarters. I deduce from your comments and orders we're about to have company?” she asked sounding pleased.

  “Lay out a welcome mat will you? But not too hot a reception this time,” the chief asked.

  “Definitely. The admiral's in admin right now doing what he can with what he brought along. I'll inform him. Sprite out.”

  “We'll need to give him or her an ETA...” Warner said turning to the chief.

  She nodded. “Just as soon as my people are ready. I know.”

  “Chief we've got the first team prepping now,” the communication's tech said looking up. They stared at the Veraxin. “What?” she asked, shrugging her upper shoulders and showing first level amusement over confusion. “I passed on the good news as soon as you came out.”

  O'Mallory smirked at Warner who rolled his eyes. By now it was probably grist for the rumor mill, in other words all over the ship. “Glad someone's on the ball. Think it hit the ship's grapevine yet?”

  “Are you kidding? Gossip's already thick as cookie's pea chowder. Betting is running four to one that this team gets chewed up as well,” the tech replied.

  “Well!” Al said with a scowl. “I'll just have to see what I can do to upset those odds right?” he said with a growl. “Put me down for ten on nothing happening and one on something going wrong,” he said as a stage whisper to the tech. The tech nodded and then looked up and at him in confusion.

  Al smirked and shook his head, walking off whistling. Warner shook his head at the tom foolery. “All volunteers have suits until they can make an area for those without them.”

  “Which will take time,” O'Mallory said. “But not a whole lot I bet. Not with Irons in their corner,” she said with a smile. The smile congealed slightly. Irons had been in the first away team's corner as well and look how many had come back after that mess she thought.

  “No doubt,” Warner said as Al left the bridge. He looked at the closing hatch and frowned. “Where's he going?”

  “Either to get a suit or to find some of his people to go,” O'Mallory said looking at the hatch herself. “I'm not sure which.” She doubted Al would go back. He said he wouldn't but then again you never knew.

  “I wonder how many will volunteer and how many he'll order to go?”

  “Not sure,” O'Mallory said. She was of mixed feelings on going. “I'll be in the boat bay if you need me,” she said leaving the bridge.

  Outside the boat bay she paused, whistling. Dozens of heads turn to look at her. “You going too chief?” Gwen asked, checking names off the list.

  “No, ah, can't. Captain's orders. You shouldn't either,” she said with a frown.

  “Oh not this trip. I know, M'runi passed on the order. No one without a suit can go until they've got it set up on the other end. I've got Jake making suits now though.”

  “Really,” she said taken aback by that. “What'd that cost?”

  “More than Blur is happy to let go of,” Gwen muttered with a scowl. “Some of Riff's tipple, which was also a pain in the ass to get a hold of. Had to get him a custom suit for him to go along with it on his end.”

  “Really?” O'Mallory asked surprised and amused. Riff was a thinker and a tinkerer, not really someone who liked risking his bull neck. The Tauren shrugged her massive shoulders. “He's that serious about going?” she asked.

  “Does this answer your question chief?” Gwen said, pointing over her shoulder. O'Mallory turned to see Riff coming around the corner with a suit on. Granted it was a universal suit, but it was one that fit him. He had an oversized bubble helmet tucked under one arm, and an engineering kit and survival bag under the other. He pretty much filled the companionway, forcing everyone to flatten against the sides of the bulkheads or get run over.

  “Riff?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow upward.

  “Yes chief?” he asked, setting the equipment down at his boots and then setting the helmet on top. “All ready to go,” he said looking at Gwen.

  “Shit,” Gwen muttered looking him up and down. “Damn you Riff...”

  “Pissed cause I'm going first?” he asked with a flick of his bovine style ears.

  “A little,” she growled.

  “You'll get over it,” he said with a snort. She hooked a thumb and finger into his nostrils and pinched and pulled downward until they were face to face. His eyes rolled white at the pain she was inducing.

  “Now here this. Anything, I mean anything,” she gave a pointed tug on the nostrils making him yelp. “Anything happen to that hide of yours and what's trying to kill and eat you will be the least of your problems. You read me bull boy?”

  “Yes ma'am,” he said, breathing through his mouth. His voice sounded high pitched.

  “The only one that takes a bite out of your ass is me. Get that through your thick head.” She gave him a long look and then let go. Her hand wiped itself on a rag. “Now get. Keep in touch. Or else,” she growled.

  “Yes Ma'am,” he said, picking his kit up and tucking it under his arms again. “If you'll excuse me chief,” he said. He got through the hatch and snorted then winced. “Damn that hurt,” he muttered loud enough for them to hear. He rubbed at his nose.

  “Serves you right,” Gwen growled.

  Barry and another pilot ferried the first two groups over a half hour later.

  ñChapter 19

  “I take it this is another marathon session?” Sprite asked, clearly amused. The admiral was nothing if not thorough and stubborn.

  “Probably,” Irons replied, continuing to work on the panel in front of him. He was waiting for the shuttles to dock. Since he was stuck waiting, why not work on the area around the docks?

  “I've been meaning to tell you, we've got a slow boil problem,” Sprite admitted. That was her way of saying a small problem that could become a bigger one overtime.

  “Oh?” he asked, adjusting the lights. Right now the station was on energy saving alert of course. He pulled anything shorted or severely damaged and tossed them to the side. A bot was trundling back and forth in between his shuttle and the piles of scrap. He had a pair of hover pallets filling up with newly replicated parts. His replicator was also making bots, one bot every two hours.

  “Yes. It appears the cybers and some of the AI are getting ready to file suit,” Sprite said, totally serious.

  He paused what he was doing and looked up. “You don't say,” he said slowly. “Suit?”

  “Yes, apparently they do not like us here, do not like the interference, the damage, and intend to file a lawsuit over everything from the damages to the resources you use to repair the station. All illegal, unlawful and downright mean,” she said sounding mock serious. If he didn't know her any better he'd swear she was actually enjoying that twist.

  “Talk about biting the hand that feeds you,” Irons replied before returning his attention to the lights.

  “Essentially what I said actually,” Sprite said. She checked the exterior camera. Wonder of wonders it was functional. “Shuttle one on final. ETA two minutes,” she reported.

  “Just enough time to finish with this then,” Irons said, moving from the light to a flickering one further down the companionway. He'd already checked the locks and grapples, they were functional. He flipped the step stool open and then climbed up it again. He'd cleaned up the grav plates right off. Fortunately they were in relatively good order for their age. The corridor was set to only one third G like the rest of the station now.

  “If you feel a bump...”

  “That will be Barry knocking you mean?” Irons asked. “Let's hope not,” he said, pulling the cover panel off. One light was burned out, the other on its last leg. Florescent tubes. Apparently they hadn't gone out of style even though LED's had mostly replaced them over a thousand years ago. He shook his head and pulled
both tubes. The light around him vanished.

  “Did you tell them we're covered?” he asked, meaning the cybers and not the incoming people.

  “I told them a lot of things in that regard. Including looking a gift horse in the mouth and biting the hand that feeds you,” Sprite replied acidly.

  “No I mean it's covered. All factories were nationalized during the latter half of the Xeno war. Remember?” he asked as he worked.

  “Um...” It took a microsecond to find the relevant documents. She already knew the corporation had been nationalized but... When she did scan through and find what he had been talking about she felt like kicking herself. No, not really, but the metaphor fit somehow. How could she of missed it?

  “I also was about to bring up the fact that this station was technically a derelict. Not quite abandoned so that would be arguable. Also they haven't paid their taxes in seven centuries...”

  “So they are subject to seizure. Oh lovely,” Sprite said. “You know the nationalization and the tax angle totally slipped past me. I did bring up the salvage rights argument though.”

  “Busy?”

  “Yes,” Sprite mused. That was still annoying, she should have thought of it when she had been arguing with them. It irked her that she'd missed it and he hadn't.

  “Still not an excuse,” Sprite said sourly.

  “Cut yourself a break Commander, we've been overloaded with projects,” he said, putting the cover panel back so it wouldn't be inadvertently recycled by someone overzealous. Sometimes even AI put low priority items in deep memory to focus on the task at hand.

  “It's still no excuse. I'm an AI,” she said, firing off the relevant passages to the cybers. She put it in an open file, read only. She did the same for all the current laws. Well, current as of the last gasp of civilization over seven hundred years ago.

  “Firing back?” Irons asked.

  “A full broadside actually. I'm giving them something to think about. I bet we'll start seeing some whining or some ass kissing sometime soon,” she said.

  “I'll settle for some genuine help and an end to any obstructions they are throwing,” the admiral growled, twisting some wires together and tucking them into a box out of the way.

  “Not likely,” she muttered as the docking light went from red to green. “They're here...” she sing songed.

  “Good,” Irons said folding the step stool and tucking it under one arm. He could have used his antigrav but using a stool was energy efficient.

  “Holo's working?” Sid asked from the overhead. “Testing one too three...” he said.

  “Audio's working,” Sprite replied through the data link. “I'll patch in a microphone pick up for you. Holo is warming up now I believe,” she said.

  “Yes it is. Good. We want to say hi,” Sid said. Sprite sighed. “No, not a speech. Or at least I don't think so.” Sid seemed unsure himself. “Not a long one anyway,” he clarified.

  “Great. We'll make a politician out of you yet,” she said.

  “Now you're just being mean,” he replied with a laugh. “No need to get nasty,” he said with a smirk in his voice.

  “Say's you,” she riposted back.

  “You know, I know the first order of the Apocalypse is to kill all the lawyers. Wish they'd thought of that here,” she texted to Irons. He snorted just as the lock opened.

  Irons met them and was immediately glad to see them. He shook hands with Barry and the others. He is surprised by Riff but gratified. The others took their helmets off when they see he's not wearing his.

  “Nice outfit,” Barry said nodding to the admiral’s improvised armor.”

  “What this ole thing?” Irons asked looking down at the suit. He hadn't taken off the armor yet. “I just threw it on,” he said.

  “Sure you did,” Barry replied with a snort and a smile at that old line.

  “This it?” Irons asked, watching as security men and women formed a perimeter. Good. They looked like they meant business. One had a hand held scanner and was doing a careful sweep. All engineers, one medic and guards. Good.

  Barry shrugged. “All there is for this load. Sorry. We're kind of well...”

  “There is a huge group actually,” Riff said pushing the push pull out and over the lock combing. “Hundreds so far. But the captain said they can't come unless they have a suit.”

  “And quarters,” a tech said. “And food and air and well...” he shrugged and spread his hands.

  The admiral nodded. Everything the captain said was logical. “We'll work on it.”

  “Welcome,” Sid said. His holographic image formed next to the admiral. His wife was with him. “Welcome to Antigua station prime.” The holo of the cybers startled a few people.

  “Ah, thanks,” Riff said with a nod as everyone stared at the newcomers.

  “Tauren correct,” Sid said with a welcoming smile. “We haven't seen your kind in quite some time. You are very welcome here.”

  “Thanks,” Riff said.

  Emily poked Sid. “Where are my manners,” he said, not looking her way. “My name is Sid Berkheart, this is my wife Emily. We are human resource managers on the station. If you need anything let us know,” he said politely, following formula.

  “We need a lot actually,” Barry said. “Well, they do, I'm not staying long. I've got to go pick up the next bunch.”

  “Is it true there are so many willing to come over and help?” Emily asked hopefully, eyes shining in delight.

  Barry paused and then shrugged as a nearby lock went from a red light to a green and then began to cycle open. Shuttle two had docked as they had talked and now people started to come out. Hesitantly at first but then with more assurance as word passed that the area was safe.

  “Hundreds right now. I bet a thousand or so.”

  “Wow,” Emily said, virtual eyes wide. “That many?” She was now definitely excited.

  Barry nodded. “Kiev is a big ship. We've got over seven grand onboard. A lot of people do make work. Many just stand around sucking up resources bored out of their little minds. They want something else to do.”

  “Which we can provide,” Sid said with a nod. “Jobs we have a plenty,” he said.

  “Good,” Riff said. “Let's get to work. First order of business admiral?” he asked.

  Irons nodded, getting a nose count. There were forty three people of various races. Not a lot of equipment, but they could remedy that easily. What really interested him was the barrel of fuel shuttle two had dropped off. A barrel of hydrogen fuel, two of water, and several tanks of acetylene, nitrogen, and oxygen. All courtesy of O'Mallory most likely.

  “We've got a priority list. But first is to get to work securing a passage from the nearest dock to the center of the station and it's critical machinery,” the admiral said. “Which means patching everything and making sure nothing can get in. And keeping it that way. Security...”

  Riff nodded indicating the guards around them. “Which is right here. Al sent along some of his best to help.”

  “We'll need to tack weld cover plates over the Jeffery tubes and lock down side passages. Anything a body can fit through will need to be secured,” Irons said.

  Riff grunted. He turned to look over his shoulder. A tech was holding up a welding rig. She flipped the switch and the tip flared to life. “Just point the way admiral,” she said with a grim smile. She flipped the sun visor on her suit down.

  The first real order of business after the corridor was complete was to get a power plant and a replicator functional. They had limited life support, most of it canned. It didn't bode well if they wanted to pack more people into the space station. Irons had a couple of people and the bots run scrap to his shuttle replicator. A few grumble good naturedly about the task. “You'd think we'd be doing something else other than lifting scrap and running parts.”

  “Move stuff now bitch later,” another said.

  “I can do both.”

  “Oooh multitask. Great. You do that. I'll save my
breath and energy for more important things,” the other replied.

  “Just think, you get to play with the replicator. No gold plated jewel encrusted tools please,” Riff teased.

  “Awe spoil sport,” Danny growled good naturedly.

  “Just know you that's all,” Riff grunted. “Make sure you change any filters you find.”

  “Filters?”

  “Something tells me they haven't been changed in a few centuries,” the Tauren said dryly.

  “Oh,” Danny said thoughtfully and then nodded. “I'll remember not to drink the tap water then.”

  “Yeah,” Riff said. “That's something else to work on.”

  “Better get on it soon,” Danny said with a grimace.

  “Power plant off line?” Riff asked as they entered admin. Irons nodded, amused that so many that had followed them in were looking around and whistling in appreciation. A few immediately climbed up into the observation deck to get a better lay of the room. A few of the more duty oriented people immediately got a feel for the room and then sat down at stations and checked the systems over.

  “Glad some people know what they're doing,” Sprite said, watching with a hint of pride as people picked up on the system layout quickly. All that training had paid off apparently. That was good. It was also good that all these people were making a positive impression with the cybers and AI in the net.

  “Power plant is definitely offline. I looked into all of them. Right now life support is running off of the station's solar panels which have taken a beating. It'd be nice if we could get a crew out to do a hull survey and take a look at the closest ones.”

  “I'll look into it,” Riff said nodding to a nearby tech. The tech nodded back reluctantly.

  “If we can get the other maintenance boat over here they could help and play SAR duty,” Irons said.

  Riff shook his head. “Doubtful. The chief has it swapping out the Scarab when the Scarab goes off duty,” Riff said.

  “Oh. Well, we can see if one is available here. Or make one if need be,” Irons said.

  “Make one?” A tech asked looking up.