Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  All in all it was a fascinating piece of engineering. The crew were busy refueling it. From the look of it the machine took gallons of water along with what looked like tons of coal.

  "Steam locomotive. Simple boiler arrangement. The steam pressure is used in the pistons. They need a better governor though," he said.

  "How do you know these things?" Sprite asked amused.

  "I saw one and checked the engineering out when I was a kid. Did a report on the tech when I was six," the admiral replied watching the crew work. They had corduroy coveralls on and the class blue hat of the train worker. The conductor was dressed in a brown suit. The engineer had a red ascot tied around his neck. He took it off to wipe at his sweaty face and then waved impatiently to the conductor.

  "Oh. That explains it," she said amused.

  "The track... that's interesting." The track had three rails. Two outer ones and an inner wide monorail in the shape of a T. The monorail was iron and wood, but shaped like a modern monorail. He'd seen the design before in mass transit in his travels. "I bet this can run on the old network. The subway network," he said. “If it still exists.”

  "Possibly," Sprite said sounding doubtful. "I'd hate to be in it."

  "I don't think we have a choice Sprite," he said as the man in the brown uniform, a conductor or assistant waved a lantern in one hand and waved to people to board with his free hand.

  "All aboard!" he yelled, cupping his free hand to his mouth. Irons winced.

  "Aren't we getting on?" Sprite asked.

  "I believe we need a ticket," he said looking around.

  "I can access... or not," Sprite said sounding vexed. "No electronic links, no electronic banking," she said sounding disgusted.

  "But there is a booth," he said walking to the nearest counter. The freckle faced red headed girl on the other side looked at him with a bored expression.

  "Destination?" she asked.

  "The capital, um Doonburg?" he said uncertainly.

  "That'll be twenty two fifty."

  "Credit?" he asked hopefully.

  She pushed a keypad his way. "Knock yourself out," she said, face resting on one fist.

  He looked at it and then touched the pad.

  "You new here?" she asked suspiciously.

  "Just got here actually," he said, jerking his thumb to the nearby space port.

  "You'll need to set up a bank account then," she said shaking her head. She looked over his shoulder to the next in line as she pulled the pad away.

  "I already did," he said, pulling it back.

  "Then enter your account number then the pin."

  He looked down at the pad. That was a recent addition as well. Someone was on the ball, picking up electronics from the station and putting them to immediate use. "Um...."

  "Put your finger over the pad admiral," Sprite said. He did so. He felt a tingle of data flow through him. She must have been using his nanites to establish a connection. After a moment the girl blinked at her screen.

  "What did you do? You didn't type anything?" she said eyes narrowed.

  He held up his finger and blew on it. "Implants, got to love them." He smiled at her expression.

  "Implants?" she asked wrinkling her nose.

  "Long story. Can I have my ticket?" he asked as more people started to line up behind him. From the sounds behind him they were restless.

  "Sure sure," she ripped off a ticket from the roll and handed it to him. "Keep the stub on you or they'll toss you off. They'll check the tickets when you're on the move."

  "Thanks miss," he said amused, stepping away and holding the paper stubs. "Fascinating," he said walking to the boarding ramp of the nearest car.

  "Not that one sonny, the end one. This one's full up," An assistant said in the doorway, pushing him gently back with his hand up.

  "Sure, sorry, didn't know," he said. he watched over his shoulder as the man closed the accordion gate in the doorway.

  "Huh," he said getting in line for the last car.

  "Like a nightmare," Sprite said. "Hurry up and wait."

  "Public transport usually is," he muttered.

  "Who you talking to boy?" A voice asked behind him.

  He turned to an old woman. "I haven't been called a boy in ninety years ma'am," he said amused.

  She blinked at him, eyes wide. "You pulling my leg sonny?" she demanded, poking him with her mahogany cane.

  The admiral shook his head wryly. "Not at all ma'am, I've had a long life. Just woke up to rejoin the galaxy actually."

  "Oh one of dem dare sleepers?" she asked with a sniff.

  He nodded. "Yes ma'am."

  "Come on gran gran we're late!" A young boy said waving impatiently. A young Veraxin chittered with him. His four legs skittered on the wooden floor.

  "Here," Irons said stepping aside.

  "Why thank ye kindly sir," The grandmother said, craggy face breaking into a toothless grin. He nodded politely as she seemed to curtsey and step forward.

  "And the wait gets even longer," Sprite said. He snorted.

  Irons followed the Veraxin aide into the office several hours later and then sat down in the indicated chair. He took a cup of coffee from the tray nearby and sat back in the high backed chair.

  The trip across town from the train station to the mayor's office in the center of the large town had been an interesting experience. The town was a mix of periods, mostly something called steamer punk. The architecture of the buildings, some embedded into the cliff walls lining one side were a mix of Victorian brick mortar and wood in the nineteenth North American style. Functional certainly but quaint.

  The people were much the same in appearance. Most of the women, the Terran women at any rate, were dressed in long dresses of various colors. Some had parasols, others canes. Most of the men were dressed in various outfits ranging from western cowboy to simple white shirt, suspenders and slacks. For the men Brown or black tended to be the primary choice for colors of most of their clothes other than their shirts.

  Here and there he could see technology creeping into their daily living however. For instance there was a large LCD screen and a holo emitter just below the clock face of the city hall. A pair of workers had been studiously watching another replace lantern lights with LED's. That must have been new; he hadn't known they had that. The screen was showing the news broadcast from the station. Interesting, the admiral thought moving on.

  Jeff Randall was certainly everything Sprite said he was the admiral thought, returning his attention to the here and now. He was a player, suave, and distinguished from the look of him. He was a trim and fit one point eight meter tall man, in his early thirties like Sprite had said with a lot of life and energy in his eyes. He had on a nicely tailored brown business suit, a bit archaic, but functional and formal. He even had a stately top hat hanging from a coat rack standing in the corner. This man knew his office and dressed for success.

  They had shook hands and exchanged pleasantries when he had entered but he felt that Randall was a bit uncomfortable about being bearded in his own layer by the admiral. Good Irons thought with a mental smile. It felt good for someone else to be off balance for once.

  His host looked at him and then shook his head. "Admiral shouldn't you be on the station rebuilding it?" the mayor asked.

  The admiral spread his hands. "Even I need a break from time to time mister mayor. And I sometimes take the time to look around and speak with people."

  Mayor Randall nodded. "Still it's a major project. I would think you would be focusing your efforts there." That sounded a great deal like both a rebuke and a dismissal.

  "Oh I am, but we're rapidly coming to a crossroads. I had planned on continuing the repairs of the station while shaving off ten percent of production for supporting projects and laying the groundwork for defenses for the star system but that hit a... shall we call it snag?" he asked taking a sip of coffee. It tasted like used motor oil. He hid a grimace as the mayor's face worked. He flicked a glance out t
he dirty window and then to his host.

  "Other projects?" Mayor Randall asked politely after a moment.

  The admiral nodded. "Yes, apparently the planetary council has put in orders for other things and overridden me. I'm curious as to why. They aren't taking the long view into account. They have yet to propose how they plan on paying for all the changes as well."

  "I'll ah... um..." Randall sputtered. “Pay?” he suddenly asked.

  The admiral nodded virtuously. “Of course. People don't work for free Mr. Mayor. And the materials and power doesn't come free.”

  “I... um...”

  “And of course if you just hand things out to people it can be good and bad for your economy,” the admiral continued. “Bad for those currently in business. They tend to go out of business when something like that happens.”

  Mayor Randall looked decidedly uncomfortable with that little tidbit of news. “I'll have my staff look into that. I have a plan.”

  The admiral smiled slightly. “But you aren't willing to share it until after the election. Of course,” Irons said with a knowing nod.

  “Oh of course,” Randall said, smoothly smiling. “I'm glad you understand,” he said.

  "He didn't expect you to call him on the carpet I take it?" Sprite said amused for his ears only. He twitched a finger but didn't respond. He needed to focus on this. Randall was a cool customer.

  "He's slick I'll give him that. Politician through and through. He didn't admit to anything, and didn't commit to anything either," Sprite said in disgust hours later as they made their way back to the space port.

  He snorted, feeling and hearing the clickety clacks of the train as it moved along the rails. "You expected anything less from a person in his position?" he asked. He hadn't expected any form of commitment. He just wanted to feel the man out, put the man on notice, and try to get him on board with his overall plan. He wasn't sure how well that would work. Hopefully the man would work out in the long run. He had a look about him, the look of a dreamer who had the ability to lead. Someone they desperately needed if his plan was going to succeed.

  "I'd hoped," she said disgusted.

  The admiral snorted. “Wishful thinking Sprite, keep hoping. I think he's a shoe in for the governor's house if he can keep his head out of his ass and project that suave charm to the public.”

  “Great,” Sprite sighed in disgust. He looked out the dirty window to see fences rolling by. Beyond were farms, acres of farm land. There was the occasional pasture filled with all manner of animals. That was a good sign.

  “Now what?” Sprite asked.

  He puckered his lips and blew them out in a silent raspberry. “I don't honestly know. I seriously don't know. I've never been in a situation like this. They are ignorant of their own potential and ignorant of their own needs.”

  “Time to educate them?” Sprite asked as the train whistled.

  “Sorry?” he asked.

  “Oh never mind,” Sprite said in disgust. She knew the answer already. Irons would try but things were not going to go so easily as either of them had hoped. His hands gripped the arm rests as the train entered a tunnel. “Dark times ahead,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Irons said. “But eventually there is light at the end of the tunnel. We have to hold out until then,” he replied.

  “Easier said than done,” she murmured in his ear as darkness descended.

  ñChapter 30

  When Kiev had left last month she'd had a pared down crew of only three hundred and nineteen people, a steep change from the seven thousand four hundred and twelve she had before. Seven thousand eighty one people remained on the station or had transferred to the planet. Over five hundred of the sleepers had survived and had transferred to the station or to the planet. A few had opted to remain on the ship in order to transfer to some other world.

  The Lieandra had left behind four thousand five hundred and seventy nine of her own brood before she'd left the system for the jump to the empty B459c red dwarf system and the Protodon jump chain yesterday.

  Irons wasn't happy about their destination but had no way of changing it. Fortunately they were only planning on going as far as Kathy's world before turning south back to Pyrax.

  He had been of two minds about giving them the load of material and equipment he'd fabricated and Sprite had assembled in her auction hunting. Most of it would be useful in Pyrax, more useful then here for some time to come. Besides he could always make more.

  But what really concerned him was any of it falling into enemy hands. He'd taken steps to prevent their misuse but he knew that once they were out of his sight just about anything could happen. He may never know what happened if Lieandra disappeared.

  Her crew had been pared down to a measly two hundred and twelve people. Both ships were carrying parts and news of the changes, they would be the first stones to ripple out from the Antiguan pond into the rest of the sector.

  The more he thought about it the more he resented the lotus eaters. The hippy peace love and happiness group led by Fu. That was one way of thinking of them. Hippies. Peace love and happiness indeed. They didn't have a clue how the real universe worked.

  Lately he'd drawn an analogy to Odysseus and his journey home in the Odyssey. Of course the analogy didn't fit perfectly but the more he thought about it the more he identified with Odysseus and the desire to move on before apathy set in with him as well. He'd recognized the signs and had fought it off twice but now it hovered over him like a constant cloud.

  Really they were Lotus eaters before he'd arrived he realized. That's what it really was. The apathy was over not being able to do something to change the situation and helplessly watching as the station slowly tore apart around them. But the cybers had it different now, in no small part to his own efforts. Not that they saw it that way.

  Now they loved to meddle, to micromanage. It wasn't just for the social interaction; apparently they all craved the attention. No now it was about putting their own stamp on things and controlling everything on the station. Forcing others to follow their directives and beliefs. Of course using blackmail and other methods were counterproductive. Kennet's meat rebellion had been something they hadn't anticipated or been at all happy about.

  He'd settled into teaching at the newly restored college and making himself available to the engineering staff to repair or replace parts and equipment on the station. By establishing himself with the college he calculated that he would have some sort of impact in the students there while seemingly out of the way of the station council. Reactor five was now online and a quarter of the replicators were now up and available. They really didn't need him right now, the remaining reactors and equipment needed a lot more people and AI to run than what they currently had. They also needed ten times the supply they currently had to use them properly.

  Most of the replicators were tasked, which was annoying. They were booked for months in advance now. He could no longer siphon off one for his own projects. Businesses ground side were purchasing equipment to update themselves now that their competitors were doing so. The station council was positively gleeful about all the competition for their attention and services.

  Of course they'd let him use the replicators to test them for a while before they had gotten wise to what he had been replicating. He hadn't made any weapons, just parts and equipment for the ships under construction in Pyrax. He'd sent them out in Kiev 221 and Lieandra with hopes that they'd arrive within a year or so. Now as he repaired each, someone was there to take over before he could make anything with it. That was annoying. They were using him with no thought of compensation for his efforts and service. He didn't do it for thanks but he didn't like the subtle abuse. He wasn't a doormat.

  He of course had retaliated a bit by being busy when they needed him. That hadn't endeared him to the council or the people trying to get the equipment up and running of course. Sprite had warned him that sentiment was running against him in some quarters.

  Another fre
ighter had entered the system from the B459c jump point several days ago and only this morning had called in. The station council was already at work communicating with the ship, working out a trade for parts and repairs in exchange for goods and services. It would be another day or so before they got a response back of course.

  It wasn't all good news; Sprite had just picked up an interesting tidbit in the feed. News from the freighter Cassidy that was particularly alarming to him but apparently not the cybers. Apparently pirates had raided the Destria star system last year. Destria was south of them, it was a cul de sac system with only one jump point in and out. Details were sketchy but from what Sprite had picked up the system had been not only raided but invaded and occupied. Cassidy had barely made it out ahead of a frigate that had tried to run her down.

  He checked the star map and encyclopedia. The Destria star system is or at least was a lonely agro system, a small farm colony on a battered moon orbiting a gas giant. It didn't make sense that the pirates were not only raiding it but setting up shop like they intended to stay. Unless of course they intended to use it as a base of operations? But again why? Destria was well off the beaten path!

  Destria had four empty systems north of it before it reached the arctic Kathy's World and the chain leading to Antigua and more settled space. He was fairly certain they wouldn't make the long jump to Epsilon Triangula, only a fool would take a ship in their current condition that far.

  South of Destria was mostly empty systems leading back to Horathian controlled space and Bek. He wasn't sure about Bek; he'd have to find out more sometime if he could. So far no one he had talked to had known of the system. At least they hadn't mentioned it. Sprite hadn't found any word of it in the nets she'd been in either.

  He didn't want to draw attention to the Bek jump chain if no one knew about it. It wasn't that he was concerned about a private party... but if the pirates ever got wind of the system... that could pose a problem... that is if the system was even still there.