“It's still crazy,” Riff answered with a heavy snort. “But it did work. Or at least it might of. Time to find out.” He turned to the tech at the console.
“Plasma stream has formed into a ribbon. It's about a micron thick but stable. Heat transfer is ten percent per minute. We need fuel,” Dan said.
“Hydrogen pellets super cooled, formed and ready,” another tech said, looking up from her console.
“Then inject. Ignite when they are in the chamber.”
“Fuel injection commencing,” the tech said.
“Lasers charged... firing... We have contact with the stream...” Dan reported, intently staring at his readings.
“Temperatures are climbing rapidly! We're already at six now... seven hundred million Kelvin! Climbing fast!”
“Ignition! We have ignition!” The room rang with cheers.
Warner looked up from the M'runi's station and grinned. The captain was coming out of his day cabin and paused, adjusting the hem of his jacket. “What?” he asked.
“The station has re-ignited one of its fusion reactors captain. She's alive once more,” Warner reported.
There were some gasps around the room and then cheers and clapping. The captain looked surprised.
“Our people can really pull of miracles can't they sir?” Warner said grinning.
“Yes. Yes indeed they can. If they get a little help,” the captain said, turning to the view screen. Slowly the station's lights were brightening. Windows were lighting up. Not all of them, but it turned a foreboding dead station into something that seemed like it was ready to return to the world of the living.
As the reactor came online Proteus stabilized it. The AI had copied it's files on managing and maintaining reactors to the dumb AI Clio. Clio was named for one of the nine muses in Greek mythology. Hers was the muse of history. She wasn't sure about handling the new task, but it seemed simple enough. Complex enough to require concentration and not bore her, but simple enough for an AI of her level.
“Are you sure I can handle it?” she asked, sounding unsure.
“You have the files and systems now. The organics will be with you as well. Just help them maintain bottle integrity and you will be fine,” Proteus instructed.
“I'm not sure,” she said. “Perhaps one of my sisters...”
“Unfortunately only you and Euterpe and Terpsichore are currently functional. And they are... flighty. They do not have the level of focus and concentration as you do,” Proteus replied wishing Sprite was here to deal with this part.
“You mean they're air heads,” Clio said with a virtual nod. “I know. I've lived with them for nearly eight hundred years. They took on the personalities of party girls to fit their roles as entertainment coordinators.”
“Yes well, they're it for now. So...”
“So I'm stuck,” Clio said. She didn't sound pleased.
“Just think of it as making history instead of documenting it. Write your thoughts down when you get the chance. Interview some of the organics for their thoughts. The Renaissance of the station,” Irons interjected.
“I'll do that,” Clio said, brightening. “I rather like the idea,” she said, firming up and reaching out with her code hands to take control. Proteus did the hand off and watched as she fumbled it before correcting. She over corrected a few times before finally getting the hang of it.
“Slippery little devil!” Clio reported.
Proteus's blob bobbed, his version of a nod. “It's tough sometimes. Right now we're keeping it at fifty percent power. Try not to let the stream go out of balance or drop below...”
Clio nodded, intently focusing on the bottle. “Fifteen percent. Got it. I have the files you know.”
“I know.”
“You were testing me,” Clio said looking up.
“Just making sure,” Irons said with a nod. He watched her. As her experience with the bottle software grew she sort of grew into the project, gaining in confidence. The tricky thing was not to over think it, not to over control and smother the bottle or run it out of control. Through Proteus he could see her writing programs to handle some of the simpler tasks. Good. Eventually managing the bottle would be second nature to her.
“Let Proteus or I know if you need a break. We'll see if we can get someone to help,” Irons said, ready to unjack.
“Sure thing,” Clio said. “Admiral I'd love an interview if you've got the time,” she said, focusing on the bottle.
The admiral blinked at her tiredly. “Um, not right now, when things get stable.”
“No problem. This is taking up a lot more concentration than I thought. I'll definitely have to re-assess my comments on the history and importance of engineers at this rate.”
“You do that.”
“Any word on my other sisters?”
“Um... Not following,” Irons said cautiously.
“There were nine of us on the station. Well, nine muses. There were eighteen other AI.”
“I know the smart AI is okay,” Irons said. For the life of him he couldn't pronounce her name right now. Men something or other. It meant Memory in Greek.
“What about your AI? Sprite?” Clio asked.
“She's... occupied,” Irons said uncomfortably. Sprite had been noticeably absent lately. He'd have to talk with her soon.
“Hopefully she is all right. I heard about the damage,” Clio said, tut tuting. “Awful. Wakeful business. But it had to be done, right?”
The admiral frowned. “Unfortunately yes. I would love to have gotten Draco to settle down. To get into his core and rebuild whatever had gone wrong. Unfortunately he wouldn't allow it and he was too dangerous. To himself and others,” Irons sighed. Proteus didn't say anything.
“Well, it's done now. History as they say,” Clio said virtuously and then brightened. “That's my area of expertise,” she said, preening.
“And we'll have you back to it soon enough,” Irons said.
“Oh I don't mind helping out. It makes for an interesting change in perspective,” Clio said.
“From what I understand two of the muses have been confirmed deleted or destroyed,” Clio said after a moment. Irons looked at her. “My sisters Melpomone and Polyhymnia. Mel was such a pessimist that's it's really no great lost. Always weeping and whining. She took her naming a little too seriously there. Let that be a lesson,” she said.
“Okay,” Irons said.
“Mnemosyne did it. Or told me about them I mean. I'm not sure if she deleted them or not. She didn't say. I didn't ask,” Clio said. “How is she by the way? I haven't seen her in the net yet.”
“She's around I think. Part of her anyway. I think she was damaged by the brief cyber war,” Irons replied, sounding unsure himself.
Clio nodded, looking sad. She had the image of a muse, Greek woman with curly blond hair done up in a bun wearing a white toga. She was holding a tablet. “She's been damaged. She put a lot of her higher functions in inactive storage. She was helping Averies but she took so much of herself offline she started to be a hindrance more than a help.”
“Ouch,” Irons replied.
Clio nodded. “I know she's a new generation smart AI. It was a risk. Hopefully she can be fixed.”
“It's not that simple,” Irons replied.
“Tell that to your AI Sprite. She has similar damage and I know it's debilitating to a smart AI,” Clio said absently. Irons frowned digesting that tidbit of information.
Clio rambled on though, oblivious. “Thalia and Urania should be recoverable. I think they were stored in a set of external drives. Their control bank went offline so we lost access to them.”
“Okay.”
“Erato and Calliope... I don't know. No one knows. One second they were in the net and then we lost them when Draco went on a rampage. I'm not sure if they were cut off like the others or if they were destroyed.”
“Or if Draco consumed them,” Proteus said quietly.
Clio looked up. “That too,” she said equa
lly softly. “That would be a shame.”
“It's a possibility,” Irons said. “We'll look into it when we have more time. Hopefully we'll find them like the others. Do you have the IP address to where the other two are? Their cores I mean? Thalia and um...”
“Urania. Yes. Thalia's in one of the entertainment memory expansion modules on deck eleven.” Clio sent him a file. “Urania's somewhere in the science modules. Averies knows her exact location,” she said.
“I'll talk to him. Hopefully we can get them online so we can get you some help,” he replied.
“Oh I don't mind,” Clio said juggling the bottle. “This is fun. And it beats staring at a virtual landscape or trying to recreate famous speeches. This is a wonderful distraction.”
“All right. I'll leave you to it then,” Irons said with a nod. “Keep in touch,” he said.
“Of course,” Clio said with a wave.
It took about two hours to chase down leaks and to route power only to areas that needed it right now. Some of the cybers were a pain in the ass; they wanted to power the entire station with the one small reactor. It was frustrating to try to deal with their sudden burst of enthusiasm. Fortunately someone else took them in hand so Irons wouldn't have to take the time to explain priorities.
He chalked it up to excitement and euphoria that was spreading through the crews. Everyone knew it was the first small step in bringing the station back to life.
“Admiral...”
“I'm getting some downtime,” the admiral said, suppressing a yawn as he looked at Gwen. “Unless there is something else?” he asked.
“No I was going to suggest it. You’ve gotten the two replicators online. We'll stick to parts on the list.”
“I unlocked a tray of parts in each. Once they are done focus on parts that aren't locked down,” the admiral ordered.
The Tauren grimaced. He shrugged. “Sorry, didn't mean to state the obvious.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “You're tired admiral. Forgiven. Go. Go get some rest before you fall over,” she said.
“Food. That I wouldn't mind right about now,” he said stretching. “Then rest.”
“No coffee,” she growled shaking a warning finger his way. She knew him.
“Yes mama,” he quipped and then smiled at her grunt of annoyance. More than one tech in the room was doubled over chuckling. He shook his head. “I'll be good. Are you going to tuck me in?” he asked.
“No, but I promise to put the sledge hammer away if you go now,” she growled.
“Fine fine,” he said and shook his head as the chuckles got louder. He raised his hands in surrender as he backed to the hatch. “I'm going, see? I'm going,” he said indicating the open hatch door by pointing to it over his shoulder.
“Bout time,” she growled and then leaned over a station console. She tapped at the controls.
Irons shook his head and left.
He really did need to take a break. He checked in and found out that the cybers had helped the Kiev people locate and set up a mess and temporary quarters. Most likely the Berkhearts had been responsible for that, after all they were human resource managers.
He made a quick call in to the Kiev with the good news. He was glad that the captain was off duty, the man has little or no patience. After signing off he then picked up some food and sleep. He drank a lot of water, surprising the group around him. “Have to replenish what I used,” he explained with a shrug.
“I don't doubt you're dehydrated,” a Veraxin tech chittered. “Wasn't that hot?”
“Just a bit,” Irons replied in between swigs of water. He downed another glass of water and then drew another. A tech murmured to the Veraxin and then got up and got a tray of water and food for the admiral.
“Thanks,” he said with a polite nod.
“We should be the ones thanking you. You've been on your feet for how long?” the tech asked.
The admiral checked his chronometer. “Almost a week it seems.”
“A week?” the tech said in disbelief, eyes wide.
The Veraxin's mandibles went slack. “A week?”
The admiral shrugged. “Yeah, well, six days. Didn't beat my record. Darn. Maybe next time.”
They stared at him. He pointed to a corner where people were resting. “Beds?”
“Um.. hammocks,” the Veraxin said with a chitter of annoyance. Hammocks worked for humans and bipeds. Centaurs like the Veraxins had to find other accommodations. The Taurens just sat on the floor.
Irons found an empty brown one in a relatively dark corner and nodded to it. “Mine,” he said pointing to it. The others nod. He bedded down in a hammock, amused about the entire situation. Sleeping in his suit was a pain, but he didn't want to expend the effort to take it off... and besides if they had an emergency he didn't want to waste the time putting it back on. He shifted about, trying to get comfortable. A fitting dug into his side annoying him to no end until he tuned it out. His last coherent thought was wondering where someone found a pudding cup and where he could get one.
With power to spare now Riff and Gwen sent crews out to repair the nearby EPS conduits. They sent teams out to hunt down leaks and route around them or patch them. The cybers were impressed.
They had located the nearest pair of industrial replicators and routed power to it. When it was up and running they started sending scrap to it. The admiral had visited each before going to bed, pronouncing them sound. He'd cued up some of the locked parts while he was there, parts that his launch's replicator was too small to do. He'd gotten a couple of trays going before switching to another project.
When they had been pulled, Regua, the Veraxin replicator tech who had come over from Kiev set up trays of simple parts.
“I wish I had the keys,” she muttered.
“Ask the admiral when he's awake,” a tech said.
“He can't give them away. They are in his implants,” Regua replied.
The tech shrugged. “Yeah well, it's an idea. Get implants of your own.”
“Um... that's an interesting idea actually,” Regua replied thoughtfully. She nodded to Riff and Gwen. They nodded back and did a quick tour as the others loaded up cart loads of parts for them to take.
When Riff and Gwen had gotten back to Ops the big Tauren Bull had chuckled at all the changes. He was tired, barely on his feet but damn it was cool to bring a dead place to life like this. Irons had taught them a lot, including how to use and rely on the little cleaner bots busy cleaning centuries of grime and crap off the walls all over the place. “Things are looking up!” Riff said triumphantly. Gwen winced and smacked him. “What?” he asked rubbing the now sore arm. She'd damn near knocked him over with that smack, that was how tired he was.
“Never ever say that. You'll curse us,” she said shaking her head mournfully.
“Really?” he demanded.
“Too late now,” she said with a theatrical sigh.
“No,” he said. Then an alarm went off. “No way!” he said, looking around eyes wide.
“Told you,” she sighed getting up tiredly. “Let's go. Stuck your hoof in your mouth...” she muttered darkly giving him a dirty look.
“I didn't mean anything by it!” he said, spreading his hands. “Honest!”
About three hours into his six hour rest period the admiral was rudely awakened by an attack on the perimeter. Alarms went off all over, pulsating and shrilling, those that had been asleep awoke. He was up and out of the hammock but unsteady on his feet. One guy had dumped himself down on top of the guy under him. They were still laying there groaning in a pile of tangled misery.
Irons raced out of the compartment, dodging around and even leaping one sleeper. “Report?” he called.
Instead of Sprite's immediate answer Proteus was there. “Intrusion in the established perimeter,” the AI responded.
“How bad?” the admiral growled.
Proteus put up a map with a single red dot. “Single intruder. Small.”
Irons slowed
and then caught sight of a guard listening to his radio. He went over to it. “Proteus patch that radio signal into me. I want to hear it too,” he ordered.
“On it. Done,” Proteus said.
“Stand down. All clear,” a voice said.
“Stane?” Irons asked.
“Yes admiral?” the guard on the other end asked. Irons grimaced. He hadn't known Proteus would open the channel. Sprite would have understood that he wanted to listen only.
“Sorry for the interruption. Sitrep?”
“All clear admiral. Single intruder, child. Human child,” Stane reported. Irons listened, standing there as Stane gave him a brief. It turned out to be a probe, someone got a little trigger happy when a child snuck in and stole some food. Fortunately the kid had gotten away without getting hurt. Good for him or her, the report was sketchy at best. Angry Irons decided then and there to do something about it. After he shut down to get some more rest. He turned about and headed back to his rack.
Gwen talked with Sid just after Stane reported in. She found out that they had security systems in a lot of the station but some areas were better covered than others. Some areas only had a few cameras or motion sensors. Sid seemed disgusted by the lapse. The holo projectors were supposed to be installed in every room and corridor, but instead were only in the docks, admin, reactor control rooms, critical rooms, and the entertainment chambers. “Cost cutting,” Sid said with a sniff. “Though I don't see how or why. We could easily do the job ourselves if they would have let us.” He was starting to warm to the admiral's get it done and who gives a shit about cost attitude.
“I don't know,” she said shaking her head. “So you can see everywhere but can't what? Be everywhere?”
“No, oh no. Not even on a good day. No, we only have microphones where we have holographic projectors for one. Well, there and a few areas where you would want voice control,” Sid explained.
“Oh.”
“Besides, a lot of the systems are well...”
“Old? Deteriorated? Nonfunctional?” Gwen asked.
Sid looked uncomfortable but then shrugged. “Yes, you could say that,” he admitted.
Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) Page 54