Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  Things were looking up, he thought, looking at the station's master plan. The schematic had a lot of black lifeless areas but tendrils of light where people were at were now stretching out from the core. Things would go even faster when they heard from the people of Antigua he thought. He checked the chronometer. They had sent the signal out and should have received something an hour ago. Apparently someone ground side had either missed the call or had bucked it up to someone else and they were thinking of a response. They just had to be patient and wait on an answer.

  “I don't think he really thought that out,” Sprite said as Irons readied himself for bed later that evening. He was now moved into a newly renovated manager’s suite. The suite still had some stains on the carpets but was useable.

  It was an office suite of course, he didn't care. He'd used a bot to relocate some bedroom furniture to it to make it more comfortable for now. His improvised armor was now back on his shuttle. With the station's replicators now online he had moved his shuttle out of the view port and into a boat bay. He wanted to service the ship but right now just didn't have the time. Or really the energy. All the work on the station was exhilarating but exhausting sometimes.

  He'd been offered some of the VIP quarters but had turned it down. It was inconveniently located far from the center of the station... and it didn't have the linkages to the station's systems like these quarters had.

  Also he was never one to put on airs unless it served a purpose. Showing people that he didn't really want to put on airs but wanted to get down to the repairing of the station helped speak his case for him to a few of the still neutral parties. Sprite was fairly certain the VIP quarters had been offered to get him as far from ops as someone could. She'd realized she was being very cynical about it but the thought fitted into Fu's pattern of behavior.

  “Not following,” he said turning down the bed. It was a simple affair, white linen sheets and a blue comforter. He looked around. The room had beige walls, a neutral color to help people stay calm. Or at least that was the theory. He preferred navy gray and green. At least it wasn't white, white was just too cold and clinical for his tastes. He looked up. The room had a false ceiling, popcorn, something he hated. As an engineer he preferred to see the piping. It wasn't the lack of ascetic... it was a functional thing. If they were exposed you could see them and catch leaks before they became a serious problem.

  But not everyone liked living in an industrial setting. He knew it, understood it. He shrugged the thought off as Sprite continued.

  “Fu. He thought he'd set you up as Hercules.”

  “Drawing a parallel?” Irons asked. He was pretty sure Defender had firewalled the sensors in the suite. Just to be sure he checked through his implants. Sure enough there was a firewall there. Good. They could talk in privacy.

  “Hercules? Mythological Greek hero? Half god? Son of Zeus?” Sprite said with some heat.

  He nodded. “I know all that.”

  “Then you know about his fabled labors? Fight a hydra, immortal lion, and clean out a giant stable?”

  “Ah. I see where this is going. You think Fu set up the station move to keep me busy?” he asked with a small smile.

  She nodded. “Got it in one. I don't think he thought it out though,” she mused. “I think he either thought you'd fight it and then be seen as unable and unworthy of your name...”

  “Or I'd do it and it would keep me busy for weeks and months?” He asked. He had no intention of that. He had his own plan already in mind. He just didn't want to let them in on it just yet.

  “Something like that,” Sprite said with a nod. “I don't think that he thought that you would readily accept the challenge,” she said.

  “Well, I haven't really. Just put it on a back burner.”

  “I don't think he's seen that yet. I think he'll realize it and start to agitate for you to follow up on the promise.”

  “Can't have that?”

  “He's trying to marginalize you admiral. To box you in, force you to commit errors in judgment.”

  “Why?”

  Sprite sighed internally. The admiral had a bad habit of letting others get away with crap. With believing the best in people right from the start. It was a great asset but also a weakness, it was a form of blinders that opened your flanks and rear up to attacks. Attacks that were more likely to succeed because he didn't fight back. “To make you look bad in front of the others. In short politics.”

  The admiral pursed his lips. What she was saying had merit. “Did he ever consider what I would look like if I achieved the move?” he finally asked.

  “That's just it,” she said, smiling nastily. “If you do he gets credit for the move since he suggested it. Not you for putting words to action. The dreamer always gets more credit than the person who actually buckles down and fulfills the dream.”

  He frowned, turning the idea over in his head. She was right, he knew it. “Cold Sprite. Accurate to some degree I admit. Cynical. I... I'm not happy that I agree with it either. I've seen it before.”

  “Naturally you have. Politicians have played the game for centuries,” she replied with a smirk.

  “And I know it's a pain in the ass. A cloud to work out from under. A good catch twenty two actually. Either way he wins. Or thinks he will anyway.”

  “Thinks?” she asked dubiously.

  The admiral smiled slightly. “I'll still be known as the person who got it done. Actually we will. We meaning the people on this station. First bringing it back to life and then moving it. That should be impressive to some.”

  “Also a lot of work.”

  “Which should cement some teams together. Work of such proportions usually does,” he said as he finished getting undressed. He tossed the cover all to the refresher. The house bot caught it and buzzed in annoyance before loading it to be cleaned.

  “That and trying to survive,” Sprite said.

  “That too,” he said climbing into bed. He settled down and got comfortable. “Night Sprite,” he said, turning onto his side.

  “Good night admiral,” she said.

  ñChapter 25

  Five days after the ship sent the radio greetings to Antigua the ship finally received incredulous contact with the planet. The contact was brief but ecstatic.

  Barry caught the transmission and relayed it to Kiev in case they missed it. He was bored, still an hour out from first ice rock. It took several hours of trial and error but finally Barry learned how to use his shuttle to wrangle some ice asteroids and comets and bring them back to the factory satellite.

  He had conserved his fuel on the trip out, coasting a good part of the way. It wasn't simply economics; he wanted to be sure he had enough to get back home. Once under boost he calculated the return and nodded. It took him a little more than a day to get the first load back to the station. By the time he arrived he had it down in his mind. He was also in desperate need of a shower and clean sheets.

  On his second trip out he was accompanied by a pair of tug bots and shuttle 3. He was amused by all the hoopla. “Getting organized here, regular three ring circus,” he said over the radio. He looked at the station. It's changing now, clearly lit and coming to life nicely.

  “Just shut up and wrangle rocks Barry,” the Naga controller responded with a laugh a few minutes later.

  “Glad I'm an AU out. He's nice on the radio but a pain in the ass in person,” Bert said over the local net to shuttle 2. Barry snorted but didn't respond when he heard it.

  “I heard that,” Zarek said a few minutes later.

  Bert looked over to shuttle 2. “Oops,” he said. He could see Barry in the shuttle shaking his head through the window. Kiev had a lot better and longer ears these days.

  Each shuttle has a crew of three to wrangle rocks. Two pilots and a crew chief. Barry's crews were eager to try something different. All the pilots loved any form of stick time, but milk runs up and down from the surface of various worlds got old fast. Then there was the long wait in between
, months in hyper. This was something different, something interesting.

  Unfortunately it was also something these cargo haulers weren't really built to do. He should have sent a maintenance boat out but Captain Chambers didn't want them out of his sight. Both boats were busy tearing into the station now. Kiev had shuttle 1 as over watch for her work crews and the crews out on the station hull.

  “We really need another shuttle,” Barry said, glancing at his copilot.

  The Veraxin's mandibles chittered. “You're telling me?” he asked after a moment.

  “Just sayin,” Barry said with an uncomfortable shrug as he racked the mike. The mike was attached to the ceiling with a bungee cord. He liked this system over using a wireless headset sometimes. It made him feel like an old Earth trucker.

  “Are you going to do something about it?” the Veraxin asked.

  Barry grunted, jiggling the yoke a little. They were on autopilot, both of them really didn't need to be sitting up and watching. But there really wasn't anything else to do other then sit and read or talk.

  He frowned in thought. The yellow bus was now making the runs between the station and the ship. It was tight quarters for some but fortunately a short trip. “I dunno. I've got crews working on the other shuttles but I just don't know.” Each of the shuttles had had a minor overhaul recently. They couldn't afford to have any of the craft down for long right now. He was going to have to talk to someone soon; there wasn't any slack in the system. And what were they going to do when Kiev went to the planet? They needed all four shuttles there after all. So then what? Leave the boats? But what about... well technically the station didn't really need a shuttle if there was nothing to shuttle too. But he'd still find out. They also needed a shuttle on over watch in case of a Dutchman.

  “Yup, we definitely need another shuttle,” Barry sighed, sitting back in his seat. He'd have to look into picking one up from the station. They had to have one right?

  “Or two. Or three. I wonder what kinds though?” Ger'kuk asked with a hand gesture.

  Barry rubbed his jaw. “You know, that's a good question. Do we have any specs on other shuttles?”

  “I've got some spec sheets on a tablet. I like to look over them while using the facilities.”

  “You mean you like to drool over them while taking a crap. I get it,” Barry smiled. Human males were still into ogling sexy material of one sort or another... or reading mags. Veraxins tended to stick to the e-mags and spec sheets. He didn't really see the appeal, they were better for trying to get to sleep then trying to... well... you know!

  He came to a decision. What the hell, there was nothing better to do right now. “You know what; send me what you've got. The specs I mean. We'll look over them. Hell, we've got nothing better to do. We've got what? Eight hours before we reach the first turn over?” he asked checking the clock again. Yup, right around eight hours and five minutes.

  “I'll get the material,” the Veraxin chittered, clearly excited. He climbed out of his saddle and moved off in between the seat and then off to the back. Barry watched him go and then smirked a little. Professional eyes turned their attention to the readouts for a brief check. Everything was green. It was weird seeing the shuttle like that, in the green. He'd lived his entire life with only one or two systems ever getting into the green. None ever stayed for long that way though. It was nice seeing everything running smooth for once.

  He even had a work crew on Kiev now. He had a dozen maintenance techs now. He hadn't gotten his hands dirty in weeks. Hell he should be back there, overseeing them rather than out here playing in the outer dark. He shook his head, hearing the noises of rustling behind him. Apparently the tablet with the specs on it had been misplaced. Typical. Ger'kuk did it all the time. He snorted in soft amusement and then looked out to the star filled void beyond.

  Of course selling the powers that be on making more shuttles would get interesting. He only had a couple of hours when he got back before Kiev was scheduled to leave too. He'd planned on some rack time for then. Damn. If he really wanted to do this he'd have to get a proposal roughed out and off now so they could spend hours on end bitching about it before making a decision. Wonderful. Now he hated the task.

  Ger'kuk waved an upper arm. The tablet was in his pincer. “Got it,” he said moving in between the seats to climb onto his saddle. “I want a Avatar One oh five niner. She's hot.”

  “Ah...” Barry blinked as the Veraxin showed him the image on the tablet screen. It was huge if he was reading the scale right. A lifting body, but big enough to park this shuttle in its cargo bay!

  “Are you nuts? We can't fit that in the Kiev! Damn! That's as big... shit! Let me see that!” he said, reaching for the tablet.

  Barry took the tablet from the chitter laughing Veraxin and then pursed his lips and started thumbing through the index. There were dozens, no hundreds of designs. Wow! “Time to go shopping,” he murmured.

  The teams of workers find all sorts of parts in parts cages all over the station. Some were in formerly inaccessible areas; some were in areas that the Dilgarth had occupied. Now they were running new inventories and assigning a bot or person to look after the goods until they can be moved to a central location or distributed and used.

  Of course any useable food stores had been used a long time ago. Either by the sentient or semi-sentient survivors or by the all too numerous pests on the station. Vermin control was an issue still. Traps had been laid out but only a few of the damn rats had been caught. The things were too smart. Now that the Dilgarth were in stasis and the tribes were mostly eating from the food replicators the vermin had nothing to keep them in check. Their populations were expanding fast. That wasn't good they cleared out entire cargo areas in days if left unchecked.

  Of course they had a lot of places to check. The food was gone of course. That left the packaging and other materials for the food stores and the various parts and equipment overlooked by the tribes. Since none of it was in any of the surviving databases the objects had to be scanned and inputted back into the computer in a tedious labor intensive task of taking inventory.

  It was a simple matter to train a few people to scan barcodes into the computer with a hand held scanner. Some of the tribesmen resent the implication that they were simpletons, but the resentment is ignored. Many want to run around with guns and Stane is adamantly refusing that request.

  Of course a lot of the parts were either unusable or useless for repairing the station. Those that were judged as such ended up being recycled. This added to their meager supply of material for the replicators. It was a small drop in the bucket but every little bit helped. Especially since the materials were already refined and processed.

  Irons even used parts of the station for material in order to keep things progressing. If a section of the station is severely damaged and wasn't going to be used or rebuilt anytime soon it is stripped, sealed off, and then the air is pumped out. They will deal with it when they have the time and resources.

  O'Mallory and Numiria weren't amused that their girlfriend Teela had made the jump to the station with Adam her boyfriend, and their families. The blonde Adam Prince was a nice guy, but he was a bit flighty even though he was built like a hunk from one of her romance novels. He certainly had nice pecks anyway. 'For a human that is' Numiria said at their last lunch date.

  The entire Prince family had made the jump actually. Randor and Marlena had been asked to look into a manufacturing center and a security situation on the planet and were now getting ready to investigate things there. They were planning on taking Teela's mustached dad Duncan along for support. According to the grapevine the border city of Eternia was being raided by a biker gang led by a guy named Keldor and some beast man.

  Duncan and Randor would have their hands full with the gang. From the sound of it Keldor was a tough cookie; he wore a skull helmet all the time and had the people in the area scared out of their wits.

  Marlena was one of their better pilots even if she
was a bit old. She'd surrendered her position to Barry when she'd retired but apparently now she was planning on taking a hand in setting up the space port near Eternia. Go figure.

  Yesterday Marlena had taken the four of them to the planet in a restored long ranged shuttle she'd found in the station. She was supposed to drop them off and then come back loaded with gear. Since Marlena rarely ever left Randor's side these days O'Mallory was fairly certain she wouldn't come back.

  Adam was already making noises to follow along behind them. He'd moped about the station for a while. Until he met a new friend exploring the station. When he had heard his parents were in over their heads he had talked to his new side kick, a young green and orange tiger named Kringer of all things. Apparently the two had hit it off pretty well in some sort of confrontation in the unexplored part of the station, much to the disgust of Teela. Kringer and Adam were now inseparable.

  O'Mallory snorted. Okay, so she could see the appeal, she understood why Teela didn't want to leave her dad behind, still it irked her to lose one of her girlfriends, O'Mallory thought darkly. They'd lost over four thousand five hundred people; she felt a pang of remorse over all the emptiness in the ship. Damn near five really, and another seven or eight hundred were talking about going. Half the sleepers who had awakened had jumped ship. If Numiria and her hyena hubby jumped she'd be in a pickle.

  She'd expected them to, the hyena Lobo would be in his glory on the station; it was a giant trash heap after all. She'd find out later what the deal was.

  “Heard about Teela,” Numiria said, coming up behind her and goosing her. O'Mallory spun, surprised.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, rubbing her sore rear. Figures Numiria would know what she had been thinking about.