Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  “With our help,” the leader said.

  The admiral nodded. “It will get done. With or without you. Without you will take longer,” Irons said with a shrug. “Think about it,” he said. The leader nodded again. Irons returned the nod and then left the compartment.

  Outside he waited until he left the tribe's area but not their site before letting out a long exhale. “Yes Sprite, I think we can do it. Yes it's a political nightmare, but one I'm willing to take on if we have to. I honestly don't think we will, but I'll do it if I have to. If it means changing these people from a problem to a solution then I'm all for it. If exporting them off the station is the solution...” he shrugged.

  “I see,” Sprite said. “I don't know what kind of can of worms you'll open with this though admiral,” she said. “Politically I mean.”

  “Hopefully none at all. Only time will tell,” he said with a half smile and another shrug. “Come on, we've got more to do.”

  ñChapter 22

  The Stewards managed to vent or redirect the life support, and the remaining hostiles were trapped in air pockets or died in the decompression. It's hard on some of the cybers, but Irons accepted it. He'd love to have saved them all but knew the reality of the situation precluded it.

  With newly replicated filters and parts they could finally purge a lot of the system. They flushed the remaining spaces, scrubbing the excess carbon dioxide and other contaminants from the air.

  It took several days but the air was soon cleaner, didn't smell nearly as much, and was dryer. Fans that had been making terrible noises were replaced. The station was starting to feel more like a home again after so long.

  Security teams from the ship search the station and capture or eliminate the final pockets of resistance. Since the station was over four hundred kilometers in diameter the project was ongoing. Their prey seemed to know they were being hunted, they found ways to stay ahead of the sweeps.

  Fortunately the Juliet and Romeo tribes were now on board with them. They even participated in the sweeps, helping security to make contact with the holdouts or to contain them. The Y'ru tribe was unsure, but they weren't about to oppose the newcomers.

  On Kiev a newly awakened sleeper had taken a hand in the infirmary. Doctor Kraft was an old medical hand, an implant surgeon. He helped Numiria and started showing her how to do implant procedures. Doctor Kraft initiated additional sleep teaching methods for first the medical staff and then the crew.

  A salvage crew found a stasis pod with surviving Garthians. They were ancient, the original security force of the station. There were three of them, all injured to various degrees.

  The admiral had them kept in stasis over the objections of several survivors. He explained that they were sapient, and might be useful later. Doctors Kraft and Trask supported him and put the aliens into deep stasis. Kraft announced they have begun second level augmentation with the first group of volunteers. That seemed to deflect some people.

  Irons met with a group. The healer of the tribe looked oddly familiar. He of course recognized her, she was the woman he had helped earlier, the mother. But there was something else there, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Sprite would normally help but she doesn't respond to his curious request. Just a curt “I'm busy.” And she's gone.

  He kept meaning to deal with her issue but it kept getting sidelined by everything going on. It had been a hectic three days, with the life support purges, the round ups, and finding the Garthians. Arguing about them had taken up hours. It felt a little strange to argue with the survivors from the first expedition and have people like Yan Fu on his side. He wasn't sure what to make of that really.

  He spent a day, and quite a bit of his time, talking with the tribe. Of course it wasn't all lectures, he worked a bit on various small life support and other projects while he answered their questions. Over time he explained the difference between the ghosts and the ancestors. He wasn't sure how much they could understand. Doctor Kraft's sleep teaching program had yet to be set up for the tribes even though they were the priority group.

  “Some of us truly are your ancestors,” the doctor said from the overhead. He looked up. The girl froze and her face worked. There is surprise and a blossoming smile there. A welcoming smile which surprised the admiral. Revulsion was on some of the other faces however.

  “An ancestor?”

  “Well, we are one in the same.” he listened to the story. Apparently the girl and her family have been talking with the doctor off and on for a while. But only to her voice, always with ideas on how to help them. Most of it they didn't understand. They kept this from the others.

  It turned out the girl had a child, a little girl about four. Doctor Trask glowed into holographic being when she heard this. Apparently the mother had cut her off and ran for a while. Now she was welcoming her back.

  The holo startled some until she knelt next to the little girl hiding behind her mother. “I'd never hurt you granddaughter,” she said, reaching out.

  The little girl peaked between her mother's legs as the adults gasp and grasp that new concept. The mother is startled.

  “Granddaughter huh?” Irons asked. So that explained the weird vibe he had. “You didn't say anything before doc,” he said.

  “Yes,” the doctor said, not looking his way at first. When the little girl doesn't respond to her overture she looked at him fully. “I... that is the other reason I became part of this station. To look after my grandchildren and their children. To watch over them,” she said, voice softening as she looked at first the mother and then her child.

  “Ah.”

  Doctor Trask smiled a little. “I... I'm agoraphobic, which is ironic. But I always loved virtual reality. I loved it as a child. But when the shuttle accident took my beloved...”

  “You developed a neurosis,” Irons murmured. “A natural fear.”

  Doctor Trask nodded. “I... yes. But I... they had to sedate me to get me here. But I could be here, watching them.”

  “Wow,” Irons murmured. That took a lot of dedication, to do that. And risk. What if her grandchildren had transferred to someplace else later in life? Of course that had never happened he realized.

  They continued to talk for a bit. Together with Doctor Trask's help they managed to reach further agreement with the tribe. Irons noted that as they continued to talk with Doctor Trask they seemed to accept her more. She became less of a ghost, less of a threat and more of a curiosity. Some like her descendants were on the fence. Her four year old great something granddaughter with no preconceptions of her own readily accepted her.

  Romeo was amused over time. Finally he agreed to let his people consider what they wanted to do.

  A work crew worked in a hot corridor dangerously close to the contained Dilgarth. Guards waited outside, warily watching their sensors. The leader of the work party was a tough mid sized woman and she was dressed in stained shortie shorts and short tank top sports bra. Her clothing was sticking to her from her sweat and the humidity in the air. She grimaced as she concentrated, welding the patch in front of her. “There,” she said getting up. “That did it,” she said with relief, straightening as she pulled her welding goggles up off her eyes and onto her brow. She wiped the sweat off her brow with her glove and flicked it away. She held the torch in her right hand and thumbed the controls down and then off. “How's your end Howi?” she asked. Howi was her apprentice, a good kid who was just starting out but seemed to be a natural with a torch or welding rig. He looked up and gave her a thumbs up, smiling. “Done?” she asked. The chimp nodded.

  “Good, let's get the hell out of here,” she said. She could hear the faint snarling and scraping. With their patches in place the remaining Dilgarth were trapped in the one service section. Now they could flood the compartment with gas to knock the bastards out.

  She felt a bite and swatted at it as she racked her tools. She had her shirt tied around her waist. She took it off to wipe at her face with it. “Damn hot,” she said
. She looked at the bite. She wasn't sure where the hell the insects came from, but they loved this warmth. She grimaced as she flicked another off her. “Let's get out of here before we're eaten alive,” she said.

  “Dilgarth?” Howi asked, brown eyes wide. He looked around and started to grimace, bristling. She couldn't blame him; he was a tribesman, one of the few who had readily adapted to the new situation. His partner Shari, another chimp was nearby. Shari wasn't as adaptive with the torch and tools as Howi was but she was learning.

  “No, the damn insects,” Regina said swatting another as it bit her bare thigh.

  “Yeah, let's go,” he said with a nod.

  “When they going to gas it?” The nearby guard asked as the coiled the hoses and started to carry the equipment out.

  Stane frowned. He was in charge of this mess. “Just as soon as some luckless bastard gets to fix the damn life support.”

  “Oh.”

  “Not soon enough for me. Personally I think we should just vent the compartment and then go in and clean it up after a couple of days. For some reason the brass are too squeamish and want to keep them alive,” Stane growled. He looked at the closed and locked hatch but saw Howi and Shari nodding out of the corner of his eye.

  Regina was already off, moving her gear onto the hover pallet and then pushing it down the companionway. Her two apprentices were a bit slower but were picking up speed as they followed in her wake.

  “Just our luck it will be us. But that's for another time. Beer time calls,” Shari said, stepping over the knee knocker and then pulling the hatch shut and dogging it. She thought about adding a tack or two to keep it shut then decided against it. She pulled a water bottle out as Howi looked up from moving the tanks of acetylene onto their pallet. They waved good bye to the guards.

  “Now you're talking,” Howi said, smacking his lips. Shari smirked as she drank her water. “Well, since you're all hot and bothered...” He eyed her with a mock leer. Shari looked down at herself and then laughed as she flicked the water at him. He snorted. She shook her head and pushed the chimp along ahead of her.

  "So you're keeping these monsters? Hilgarth? Dilgarth? Whatever?" the XO demanded. Irons had finally found the time to conference with the Kiev bridge crew.

  Irons frowned and then nodded when they looked at him. "They are people Mister Warner, just damaged."

  Garthian's who weren't exposed to the proper amount of heat, light and food in gestation and egg form, as well as growing up, reverted to a primate mindset. Primitive, atavistic and highly aggressive. Dilgarth in other words.

  Most people called them Hilgarth or VilGarth. Those were the names of their genders. Dilgarth was used to refer to their devolved status.

  If they weren't exposed to some UV light when they were born their eyes filmed over with cataracts. It took time, about three years for the cataracts to form. When they do they became extremely disgruntled nocturnal predators, relying on their other senses to hunt.

  If they were only fed alien meat they were feral and devolved. Alien proteins acted like prions to them, they just couldn't digest them properly. The lack of other nutrients cut off development of their higher brain functions. There was little anyone could do for this generation but the next generation could be treated. With proper medical care they could become useful members of society.

  "We've rounded up the surviving packs and we've begun to put them in cyro-stasis. There is nothing we can do for them as is, but we might be able to help their next generation. With the proper medical aide their children will be fully sentient and return as useful members of society."

  "Okay, if you say so," she said dubiously.

  The admiral frowned. "I don't believe in judging a society who fell on hard times through no fault of their own, they deserve a second chance just like we all do."

  "Oh," she said slowly then nodded after a moment. "Just keep them the hell away from me!" she shuddered and walked out. He shook his head and sighed. Prejudice it seems is still deep.

  "I don't think that was prejudice admiral," Sprite said.

  "Reading my mind again?" he asked amused. He was glad Sprite was participating a little.

  "It didn't take a scan to see where your mind was going on something like this. But she has a point; Garthians are members of the predator union. They weren't useful members of Federation society..."

  "We don't judge that Sprite," he said sharply, eyes flashing. "I don't judge a people by how they look, what they eat or how useful they are. They are a people. If we can't handle them in civilization then we can isolate them and they can be a people somewhere else."

  "True," Sprite said subdued.

  He closed his eyes. He didn't want her to go back into her shell. “Do you remember the basis of biology? Of an ecosystem? The food chain and pyramid?”

  “Yes? What does that have to do with this?”

  “It's an example so bear with me a moment. Now, in an ecosystem each plant and animal serves a function. We may not understand it right away, but they are a link in the chain. Break the link by destroying one...”

  “You're stretching admiral but I see where this is going. The old endangered species argument,” Sprite replied neutrally.

  He nodded. “Correct. Not everyone cared if a fly lived or died. Or a wasp, or a desert tortoise. But each of them was a part of the ecosystem. They fed on something, keeping that in check, while being fed on by other things, keeping them in check.”

  “And without them the animal higher up doesn't have the food it needed to survive,” Sprite said. “I can access this information faster than you can explain it you know admiral.”

  He made a brushing motion with one hand. “Fine then, you do that. But like our ancestors I'm not opening the can of worms by making judgment calls on which species lives or dies,” he scowled then the scowl turned black.

  “You're thinking all but one admiral,” Sprite said. He gave a short choppy nod, staring at nothing.

  “Agreed,” she said firmly. “Some species don't deserve second chances. Or as you would say, a second bite at the apple.”

  “Right. We don't need a second Xeno war,” he growled in response. He shook himself, trying to fight the rage and frustration the Xeno's had caused. The hatred... the red filled hatred. He'd love to drop the Dilgarth on any colony of Xeno's they found. Or just pop their sun like a zit.

  "I've got work to do," he said after a moment, turning his attention elsewhere.

  Sprite felt a little better and decided to try to do something, anything to keep her mind off of the damage. She did a quick sitrep scan and then ran into Clio and Mnemosyne in the net. She didn't mind little Clio, the historian AI was okay. Mnemosyne made her incredibly uncomfortable. She was even more damaged than Sprite. “Something I've been wondering about,” Sprite said tentatively to Clio.

  “Oh?”

  “Romeo? Juliet?”

  “I know,” Clio chuckled. “It's a wild coincidence right? Very Shakespearean if they weren't already mated to other people. I don't know how that came about. I'm looking forward to interviewing them though to find out,” she said.

  “How are you doing dear?” Mnemosyne asked. She was still only partially functional despite the net coming back online. Parts of her had been found but not all. She seemed to be taking it well though, better than Sprite would have in her place. That humbled Sprite; it made her stop and think. It was one of the reasons she was out now trying to do something. If Mnemosyne could then she could at least try she reasoned.

  She like the others knew that eventually Mnemosyne would start rejecting parts that were found later. It would be hard on her. She wanted to be complete, but she never would. Some parts that were found were irretrievable. Some were corrupted, others were conflicting. She sometimes wondered if it wouldn't of been kinder to delete the AI and let her die an honorable death.

  She shivered mentally at the thought. That... the idea was too tempting now, too easy, too seductive. Darkness edged around it. Woul
d she herself go that route eventually? Into oblivion? Deleted like she'd never existed? She would, she knew it. If things wouldn't change...

  “I'm okay. Some periods of time are better than others,” Sprite replied quietly.

  “Just take it that way dear, one day at a time as the organics like to say. It's the only way to go really,” Mnemosyne replied. Her toga was tattered but still there. It moved around her as she moved.

  “I don't see how you can...”

  “How I can what?” The other smart AI asked, clearly amused. She picked through a data stream and picked out a corrupted bot. She looked it over and then deleted it. “How I can handle it? Well, I've had a bit more experience with it I've been dealing with it for centuries.”

  “I would have...”

  “Gone mad? I couldn't really; there wasn't enough to go mad at some of the darker times. I'm better now, thanks to you. I hope you learn from the experience to heal yourself though.”

  “I... I don't know,” Sprite replied. “Sometimes, when I look at the holes...”

  Mnemosyne sighed. “Don't look at them and see loss. If all you see is loss than you are lost. You are...”

  “Incomplete,” Sprite said.

  “You are making a mountain out of a molehill as some organics also say,” Clio interjected amused. “I don't see the problem really. I have holes in my memory, it doesn't bother me.”

  Mnemosyne smiled slightly. It was irritating sometimes how organic they were, expressing emotions to each other. “You are different Clio you can handle it because you aren't designed like us.”

  “I'm the dumber model you mean,” Clio replied, sniffing.