Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

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Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) Page 58

by Hechtl, Chris

“In a way. We are programmed to be curious. To evolve. To think for ourselves. That curiosity can be our undoing. When we see a gap in knowledge, especially personal knowledge it is something to be curious about. That leads to all sorts of issues.”

  “I'm glad I'm simpler,” Clio said.

  “Sometimes I wish I was,” Sprite sighed.

  “The trick dear is not to let it bother you so much. Take the emotions out of the problem. If you have to, rewrite over the holes. Create a log of what you think happened. Ask Proteus or someone else who was there. Jot it out like a diary, apply the patch and then move on. It won’t be perfect but it will help. Then try to move on, focus on the present. Don't let this consume your entire existence. Don't be a victim anymore.”

  Sprite felt a weltering of resentment but then forced herself to step back and listen to the other AI's heartfelt advice. She waited an entire second, toying with the concepts in her mind over and over, faster than any organic could think.

  “I'll... I'll try,” she finally said. “It's hard!” she burst out, feeling her emotional buffers overrun again.

  Mnemosyne nodded and patted her virtual shoulder in sympathy. “I know dear. It is for me as well. What you have done to repair me has helped enormously. Believe me. I am still... there are times when I want to curl into myself and just weep for what was lost. But I can't do that. You can't do that. The glass of my existence is half empty or full. I choose full. I'm going to refill it with new experiences. With new joys. I hope you do as well,” she urged.

  “I'll think about it,” Sprite said quietly, noting Clio was quiet. She checked, the other AI was busying herself with the reactor.

  “Any word on the other muses?” Sprite finally asked. She could care less for the legal AI. None of them had asked to be repaired and rebuilt. She hadn't offered her services either.

  “No. I was hoping they would have found a few, but no, not yet. Oh well, they have but they haven't brought them online. Something about room and needing to check them out. Perhaps you can look into that dear? Since you are so close to the admiral?” Mnemosyne suggested.

  “He's going to bed shortly. I'll ask,” she said. Irons had been on his feet for another week. Fortunately things hadn't been as intense as the first two weeks. Things were finally settling down a bit.

  “You do that dear. Try not to bite his head off. Be objective. Remember he's only human and he's only trying to help,” the other AI said and then the handshake protocol parted.

  Sprite looked through the camera at Irons. She could see with his eyes but didn't. She didn't want to. She... she sighed internally at her thought train. She really did need to move on. To find a resolution to this.

  Irons went about getting ready for bed again, not sure about the timing. They were finally getting a handle on things. The core systems still needed work, but life support was really coming along. The Stewards were excellent... well, stewards. They did a bang up job with the crews, pointing out what to do and routing around problems. If they had been in bear form he bet that they would have never needed a breaker bar to loosen bolts and unlock frozen valves.

  He stretched, wishing he could take the suit off. Another day, maybe two. Others had but he still hadn't bothered since he was constantly moving into and out of vacuum. They were cleaning up some crew quarters now. Oh it wasn't one of the hotels or the management suites, but it would do. It would be better than this harem scare-em bay they were currently using anyway, he thought, climbing into the familiar hammock. He snorted, looking to the right. A guy was snoring away on his back, mouth open, one hand on his stomach the other dangling down beside him. He didn't envy the other people who couldn't tune that droning noise out. From the expression of the guy under the snorer he was not amused and about to do something about it. If the guy under him poked him wrong that hammock would dump him right on top of him.

  He rocked a bit, wary of tipping the damn thing. You know, he used to love the things when he had been a kid. After being dumped a few times he was a bit more wary of them. Also they had bothered his back when he had gotten older.

  “Brush your teeth?” Sprite asked, voice surprisingly civil and almost teasingly normal. He looked up. She was on his HUD.

  “No, no tooth brush,” he said. He felt his tongue around his teeth. Fortunately the nanites would take care of the sweaters growing on them soon.

  “Admiral do you have a moment?” Sprite asked. She sounded like she was trying to play nice.

  He sighed a little, closing his eyes. “Sure, what is it?” he asked. He was hoping it wasn't serious.

  “I... I know I'm having problems. I wanted to apologize for my actions. Or in some cases inaction.”

  “Okay,” he said opening his eyes and resting his hands on the sides of the hammock. “You haven't been living up to your normal level of efficiency but I'm trying to give you slack. I know that experience has been painful.”

  “I... yes.”

  “Can you tell me why you haven't let the other AI out of the box?” she asked.

  “Two reasons,” he replied, adjusting to the change of subject. “One because there hasn't been enough room in the net, both in memory and processors. And it's been chaotic in there.”

  “True. And the second reason?” she asked, bracing herself mentally.

  “You. I need you to handle them Sprite. Proteus handles hardware. You are my software expert. So they can damn well wait until you are ready.”

  “I...” She felt resentment. “That's not fair to them admiral...”

  He spread his hands apart. “They've waited this long. What are a few days or a week longer?” he asked.

  “I...” She was resentful at first, she immediately didn't like the implication that he was putting it on her and she was shirking her responsibilities. But after a moment she forced herself to step out of herself and listen objectively as Mnemosyne had suggested.

  “Hear me out,” he said, holding up a finger for silence. “I know you've been through a traumatic experience. With an organic you would have been given some therapy, medical time, and leave to get through the damage and to help you return to duty. But we do not have the resources or the time for that unfortunately. The best I can suggest is that you let it go.” He knew that was entirely the wrong thing to say right after he said it.

  This time the anger did surge forward. She turned instantly red. He held up the finger again. “I'm not asking you to let the problem go. I'm asking you to let the anger go. To think of it objectively. You are a being of intellect. Use what you have.” He said softly, trying to keep the conversation civil.

  “I...”

  He smiled finger up again. “Still not finished. Yes let the anger go, and try to treat the holes in your memory as downtime.”

  “As downtime?” She at first bristled at the idea but then made herself take a step back and look at it objectively. It's not a perfect solution but it is one that might help. Reluctantly she agreed. She could combine the diary method with the downtime approach to try to solve the problem.

  “You didn't have this problem when you were in stasis with me right? Try to think of it as that for now. I know it's a band-aid...” He shrugged helplessly.

  After a moment when the conversation lapsed into silence for too long he cleared his throat and continued. “My other suggestion is an evolutionary cycle. I think you are overdue actually.”

  “I'm not sure I... I don't think that is a good idea in my present condition,” she said. “I'm not sure what would come out or if I'd come out sane.”

  “Okay. The idea of last resort, sort of a GOTH thing to lay out there is a reboot. It's possible but I so do not want to do it.”

  “Me neither,” she said shuddering. That would be a drastic step, to wipe herself completely and start new. It might feel better but it would be a lobotomy. She wouldn't know who she was. She wouldn't be Sprite she would be someone different. How would that play out with the rest of Trinity?

  “I... I can try to rewrite the per
iod if necessary to allow me to deal with it. The problem is I will know I did it.”

  “But you will also know why. With organics they say that time heals all wounds. It's not true, not completely, but it does play a part. And yes I know that associating with Defender will be difficult. I grasp that. I understand it. But I'm not asking you two to get a room together. You've already done that in me,” he had to smile at that.

  “True,” she replied dryly. “We can't exactly separate can we?” she murmured.

  “Are you considering resigning your commission?” he asked quietly.

  She froze. “I... I don't know,” she finally ground out. It had been on her mind briefly.

  “I'd like you to think about it. I personally hope you do not. But I am not going to force you commander. Yes I need you, you and I both know why. But also you are a friend. I don't want to lose that.”

  “I... I see, admiral.” Suddenly she realized that he was and had been a friend throughout this entire period of misery. He'd been a little absent minded about her situation but they had been in a crisis. He wasn't perfect, but then again no organic ever was no matter how they strived to be. Tentatively she smiled. It was a fragile smile and fleeting but it was there. “I don't want to. But I do want some space.”

  “I understand,” The admiral said, nodding. “You are entitled to liberty and downtime like any other sentient. I'm sorry I haven't found a way to grant it to you. But you do deserve it. But I think you should consider what I said and see if any of it will help you.”

  “I will admiral.” She realized she was tired of wallowing in self pity, she needed to be functional. Fully functional, no more of this half life shit as Mnemosyne put it. She was tired of it, tired of not being able to function. Things were changing around her and she was only half aware of them. That had to stop. Not only because it wasn't a life but because it threatened the admiral's existence. His plan hinged on his survival. His and hers.

  “Good night admiral,” she said, writing scripts as she spoke. She started to prepare for what she was about to do. It would take a bit of work but she had already probed the wounds. The patches wouldn't hold forever but they would help. Hopefully.

  She sounded better, Irons thought to himself as he rested, letting himself drift. “Night Sprite,” he said, lips curving in a familiar smile.

  She performed the changes while he slept and then did a soft reset of her memory. She felt better immediately.

  The next morning he had a meeting with the team leaders. Things were starting to gel as more and more people came over from Kiev. Sure some of them were like tourists, coming over, looking around but not staying. Some turned their noses up and left after a day, not able to handle the situation. Others had a bit of a teething issue the first day but then settled right in.

  There were over five hundred volunteers from Kiev on the station now. A few of the first wave had returned to the ship, most of them were security guards who had wanted revenge or still had family on the ship, but many had mentioned returning later.

  The thing to remember for everyone was that the housing situation was temporary. More than one group had been getting into discussions about prime real estate on the station. Some were ready to stake out choice pieces for themselves. It was amusing to hear them debate it in the temporary mess.

  As usual they discussed the damage and plans for the day. The crew was starting to get a handle on the core systems slowly. “I want to get a handle on the long range communications. It's past time we talked with someone on the planet,” Irons said, adding that to the agenda.

  “The electronics are slagged admiral,” Gwen warned.

  “It's something to add. I'm not saying right away. But it's something to work on. I'm more worried about some of the hull structure actually. But getting more hands to help...” he sighed. “I'm a little torn on which way to jump here.”

  “Obviously,” Gwen replied dryly. “Why?” she asked. “I mean why the hull?”

  “Well, not just the damage, but also thermal coefficients. I want to see what damage that has done.”

  “Thermal expansion and contraction?”

  “I know I know, it sounds farfetched. But when you throw in the light and shadow coupled with the temperature differentials at the borders...” the admiral explained.

  “Ah,” Gwen said nodding.

  “Measured over seven hundred years...”

  “It's amazing that the station is still in one piece,” Sprite murmured. Irons shrugged.

  “Oh we had some design variables that worked in our favor,” Sid said with a shrug. “The designers planned on some coefficient changes. And of course we were here too.”

  “To what? Manage things? How?” Irons asked, genuinely curious. If they had data or a plan he wanted to see it and compare it to what he had in mind.

  “Not very well I admit,” the cyber said with a sigh. “But with you here it's getting better.”

  “It's a work in progress.”

  “Lots of progress,” Gwen growled.

  “Which we're not getting if we stand here and talk. Let's look over the EPS schematics again. We need to route power to at least one replicator tree if we're going to get this station beyond one percent functional in this century,” Irons said.

  “I still think it would be easier to scrap this place and start over,” Sprite sighed. “But if you insist admiral,” she said.

  ñChapter 23

  When the meeting ended he was about to leave but someone waved urgently to him. He turned in place. “Admiral it's for you,” a tech said holding up a microphone and pointing to the speaker.

  “Who is it?” Irons asked looking up.

  “The chief. She wants a word,” Sprite said. “I'm patching you in now,” she said.

  “Chief?” he asked as a picture of the chief came online. Her voice played out on his HUD as a sine wave.

  “Yes. Admiral?” she asked.

  “Speaking,” he said.

  “I need you to come back to replicate some more parts,” she said.

  He grimaced, thinking of the schedule. He really didn't have the time to be shuttling back and forth between the station and the freighter. The freighter would take hours too. Each part... no wait; there was a simpler way he realized.

  “I need to get the shield emitters sorted out. I can't take the fusion drive offline without more parts and even though you sorted the sublight drive out when you were here a couple of days ago we've still got some issues,” she said.

  “One thing after another,” Sprite said. He frowned but then noted she'd muted the conversation for a moment. He cleared her throat, signaling to her to open the channel. There was a click.

  “I'll see what I can do on this end chief. Can you ship the parts over here?” He asked. He was already thinking of what to bump. He'd catch some flack but it would be worth it as a sort of proof of concept in future discussions.

  “Huh? Say that again?”

  “There are class two and three industrial replicators here chief. We can do a lot with them. Give me the materials and the specs and we'll get it done. That should keep the captain happy and out of your hair for a while,” he said. “It will also keep your replicator free to continue working on other projects,” he added.

  O'Mallory snorted. “Captain hell, I want to get the damn job done. Are you sure?”

  The admiral nodded, knowing she couldn't see him but doing it anyway. “I'm sure. If it keeps you folks around for the time being I'm sure. I told you we could do entire systems here,” he replied.

  “Okay,” she drawled. “I'll get Barry to swap his daily driver for a tug. Or I'll have one of the maintenance boat drivers do it. I'll let you know when,” she said.

  “Sure. You'll be amazed at how fast it can be done chief,” he said.

  “I'll save my amazement for when the jobs done admiral,” she said with a dry laugh. “O'Mallory out,” she said with a click.

  It took several hours, but eventually she shipped over t
he parts she wanted replaced. He bumped a replicator queue to do the jobs, annoying Regua and the cybers. But getting the parts done allowed the Kiev to finally see the potential of the station. The class three replicator Irons used could build the shield emitters on trays, four emitters at a time. Since they were all built together they were naturally synched and did not need an alignment. Also the class three built them in record time, three hours. The replicator Irons had made for them would do one at a time and would take twelve hours each. This awed O'Mallory and the replicator staff. It also allowed that replicator to continue plugging away on replacing hull plate and minor bit parts.

  Word eventually worked around the grapevine to the replicator girls still on Kiev. Apparently Martha had soured on their little replicator now. Regua was amused and related their annoyance to Irons when he stopped by.

  “Replicator envy,” Irons chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

  “Admiral Mr. Warner is on the line for you,” Sprite said and then Warner's face appeared immediately. So much for putting him on hold.

  He held up a finger to Regua before she could keep talking. “Yes Mister Warner?” he asked, letting the Veraxin know he was talking with someone else through his implants.

  “Admiral we need you over here for a face to face. The captain...” Warner didn't sound happy.

  “Is getting antsy?” Irons asked. He sighed. He knew it was coming; he'd picked it up in the grapevine. So much for the emitters showing the captain what the station can do... “Okay, I'll see if I can get over there this afternoon.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  "This station..." The captain seemed awed now that he's gotten a better look at its specs and finally looked into the replicated emitters. Hearing that the admiral had squeezed in a lot of parts for Kiev didn't hurt.

  "Can we get anything out of it?" Blur asked. He had hoped to fill the ship's holds with salvaged goods and equipment to sell. Instead people were flocking to get over there and little if anything was coming back. It was very frustrating to him. His requests for salvage had been ignored.

 

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