Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  Could there be something unique on Destria? A medicine? He wasn't sure. From the sound of it the planet had a barely habitable atmosphere with only a few thousand people living on it. Sprite had scoured the net but their information was limited. She'd come up dry after an ten minute search.

  “Word is getting out about Destria. One of the communications techs has a girlfriend in one of the media outlets,” Sprite reported.

  Irons grimaced. The media had grown rather quickly, filling in the television stations and other media functions with surprising speed. Toni Chambers now had competition and from her occasional dirty looks she didn't like it. He'd been at first gratified but then the tone of some of their reports on his actions had registered. He hadn't liked how they questioned his every action or decision.

  It was like they were building up to something, building up a case against him. Making him look like a bad boy, a dilettante who did more harm than good. That bothered him. It bothered him a lot, and was bothering him more and more each day. He wasn't sure what was behind it, if someone was orchestrating it or if it was a band wagon thing. Either way it was a familiar and extremely frustrating problem.

  As word of the pirates hit the news media just in time for the evening news a little hysteria bubbled up with the public. He was not amused when he found out that pirates had been spotted by Cassidy in the Kathy's World system as well. Somehow Sprite had missed that in her initial report. Or she'd thought it was a unsubstantiated rumor and waited for confirmation. Either way it didn't do his mood any good.

  When a reporter had tracked him down for an interview he'd kept it blunt and simple, stating that he'd look into it. When he'd seen the report on the evening news he'd been seriously annoyed with the results. The editors had been busy. They had played him up like a lunny, someone spoiling for a fight instead of someone ready to defend the system. It galled him.

  So did this, he thought as he sat in the observation lounge. He'd been regulated to an observer status with the council now that they had a full body. His opinion apparently no longer mattered. They didn't ask for anything, just informed him of what they wanted from him. Sometimes they informed him by e-mail or instant message, not even bothering to ask in person. Sometimes he went along with it... and sometimes he ignored it. They of course expressed their dislike when he ignored things for too long. That was tough for them. Well, he planned on using the first amendment to give them a piece of his mind tonight anyway.

  He waited patiently as they worked through the basic agenda. Most of it was a rehash of old news, some new, most were ego stroking pieces to get them moving along and make the public see that they were indeed doing their jobs and the station was progressing forward. Fine.

  When it got down to new business Sprite immediately put in a request to be heard. Surprisingly it was granted.

  Irons stood. “I think we're all aware of the growing pirate threat,” he said bluntly and simply, stepping around the other people watching the proceedings. This was even being broadcast on the station's public channel and apparently the news media as well. A few looked up at him in concern or interest. A few others were bored.

  “It's rather far away,” Kennet said dismissively. “It's also someone else's problem.”

  “A fire on your neighbor's property can easily spread to your own in time,” Irons replied, knowing that the translated Japanese proverb would resonate with the Asian mandarins. He wasn't sure if it would have its intended effect though.

  Yan Fu's eyes narrowed. He made a brushing motion but otherwise didn't speak. Kennet looked at him and then looked at the admiral with a smirk.

  “I'd like to continue with my plan to defend this station and the system. To that end I need support from the council and access to resources,” the admiral said.

  “To build weapons of war,” Kennet said, smirk widening into a tight lipped grin. He knew he had the sanctimonious admiral over a barrel this time. He planned on taking full advantage of it too.

  “To build among other things yes, Weapon systems to defend this system and this station when the pirates eventually come.”

  “They won’t. They are far away,” Kennet replied with a sneer.

  The admiral cocked his head, face cold. “Did you forget about Kathy's World? That's only four jumps away you know. A factory station has a lot more to offer then an arctic planet with little or no resources to speak of.”

  “Pirates are after booty?” Sid asked, cocking his head. He turned to the others and then back to the admiral. “Of course they are. But admiral you have to admit it's not a current problem. We need to focus on the here and now.”

  Irons tried hard not to gnash his teeth or clench his fists. He also focused on not glaring at Sid. The man meant well but he wasn't helping. “Actually, you have to plan for that if you are going to have any chance of surviving something like that when it does become here and now. Filing briefs and motions won’t cut it.”

  “Then plan. We'll read them and let you know our answer,” Fu said, stroking his beard. He made it clear from his eyes what the inevitable answer would be. If there was going to be any answer. They could keep him in limbo like the mayors council was doing on the same subject.

  The admiral however had anticipated this little stunt. “I've uploaded a basic plan already. You should have it. In fact I uploaded it to the system net three months ago,” Irons replied. “It was approved then.”

  Kennet looked at Fu. He hadn't expected that. Fu's eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Then it is out of date,” he finally said, brushing his beard and then waving his hand. “Please update it and send us another in a month.”

  “New business then...” Kennet said smirking and indicating to the admiral to sit down. Irons realized that no matter what he said or did he was going to be ignored. He turned and left without a backwards glance. He felt and heard the murmurs of the people as he left.

  “Good riddance,” Kennet said just loudly enough for him to hear as the door closed behind him. His shoulders stiffened in anger at that.

  “Admiral are you sure about this?” Sprite asked, sounding a bit put out. He'd come straight to the dispatch boat without a word. She could tell he was seriously pissed. Smoldering.

  “Yes,” he ground out, not taking his eyes off his work. He tightened the bolt and then checked the torque.

  Sprite told herself not to sigh or raspberry in the admiral's ear. She was tempted, Antigua was everything they had dreamed and hoped for. Now he was throwing it away. “It's just that, we've finally got another system capable of the Renaissance you planned...”

  “Not quite,” he said, interrupting but not looking up.

  “Not quite?” she asked, confused. She'd missed a few conversations he had had with cybers while jacked in. She'd been a little too focused on programming to really pay attention at the time. Now she regretted that. She had access to his log but it wasn't the same.

  Of course she could call up the log. There had to be something there. She didn't understand why he was... she called up the log and winced internally as she digested it. Not good. His so called allies were clearly changing sides.

  “They don't have a military presence. None at all beyond what's on the planet. And right now they are more interested in expanding their industrial capacity and rebuilding the planetary facilities instead of investing in the fleet.” He scowled. “The politicians promised them bread and circuses to get their votes and they are determined to follow through. No, I'm not going to sit idle and watch this fall apart.”

  “That's.... do they know they are making themselves ripe for invasion by the pirates?” she demanded. She knew all this of course, she'd briefed him, but she had a duty to play devil's advocate with him to help his mental processes along. Organics. Go figure.

  “I pointed that out to them while you were busy reprogramming the yacht and helping the cybers. It didn't faze them,” the admiral replied.

  “Ouch?” Sprite asked after a long pause.

  He grunted
. “Pretty much what I was thinking. Even if we did have a fleet presence we don't have the tools and hulls. Not to mention the warm bodies to man all those posts.”

  “You could make them...” Sprite said suggestively.

  “Sprite...” he sighed shaking his head. “A civilian replicator can make some military parts. The declassified ones that are common. But they can't make what we need. Hulls. Ships, defensive systems. They aren't programmed with the plans and have lock outs.”

  “Which you could override,” she said stubbornly. “Or make new replicators.”

  “Bootstrap you mean? With the replicator in the launch?” he asked amused. He'd sent some of the other repaired milspec replicators out with Kiev and Lieandra. He was regretting that now, regretting it sorely. “It's one hundred and fifty cubic centimeters of volume Sprite! Even if I made the next size up piecemeal it'd take a week to do. And then I'd have to do it all over again and again until we got to the proper size!”

  “But it's still possible,” she said stubbornly holding onto her argument.

  “Yes it is, but where do I get the material for it? Right now the Antiguans are focused on their own works and have no interest in trading or supplying materials for the fleet.”

  Her virtual eyes flashed. “Again that...”

  “Is suicide I know. Risky at least. No, we can let them hang for a while. We can come back and check on them in a year and see if they are better off if we don't find anything anywhere else. By that time they should be more interested in protecting their space assets and the system.”

  “If you say so,” she said dubiously.

  He frowned. “I'm not completely abandoning them. I have sent messages off on Lieandra and Kiev to get to Pyrax. Hopefully Horatio can peel off a frigate to babysit here in a couple of months when he receives the orders. Maybe after a year the Antiguans will wake up a bit and refocus their efforts. I don't know. We'll drop word as well in case he doesn't get it quick enough.”

  “Oh.”

  “The pirates have ignored Antigua for a while Sprite. They only pass through it. With Pyrax a black hole they will naturally shift in this direction. And since most of the systems between here and Pyrax are stripped they will most likely find other more safer hunting grounds.” He knew he was talking out of his ass since he didn't have any hard intel but he also knew there wasn't much else to say. When word of the station got out it would call the pirates in like buzzards to the smell of fresh meat.

  Sprite could see that as easily as he could. “But the presence of this station will make it an inviting target admiral. When word gets back to the pirates they will come for it.”

  He nodded grimly. “Which is why we need to figure something out for them. Eventually. I'd like to see Logan send a ship or two here to hold the fort.”

  Sprite sighed. “The ruling council will change admiral. Governor Randall will start thinking clearly after the election.”

  “Given time. He's not the governor yet Sprite,” he sighed and shook his head. “No. Time. Give me anything but time. Unfortunately right now they are focused on improving the quality of life on the planet. Bread and circuses!” he spread is hands in anger and winced as his left one slammed into a casing. He shook off the pins and needles as he continued. “Hell, they don't even have the standard of education Pyrax had! It'll be a year or two before they start to focus on the big picture. I'm not going to try to make something with the droppings they let loose from their plate every once and a while.”

  “Ouch.”

  “It's true,” he said stubbornly. The planetary council had put a moratorium on any large projects and any military construction for the time being. The station council had agreed. They had tried to lock him out but then had realized he was needed. He'd even caught a cyber trying to copy his codes. He'd been amused when the same cyber had tried the codes and it had fried a class one replicator. He was both amused and annoyed, now someone had to rebuild the damn thing, namely him. At least they had learned their lesson not to try that again. He wasn't in any hurry to repair the thing either.

  “I can't argue with that logic admiral,” Sprite sighed.

  “In theory we could stay. I could use the replicator in the launch to make another truss extruder. Set it up to make an orbital refinery frame,” he mused.

  “It is possible.”

  “I may do something like that before we leave,” he finally admitted.

  “Admiral! The prohibitions of leaving an unsupervised machine...” She was totally aghast to such a suggestion.

  “I'm not going to leave it unsupervised,” he said holding up a hand to forestall her protests. She blinked at him on his HUD.

  “You're not?”

  “No. What we're going to do is set up a couple of them and then hand them over to our friends on the station council for supervision.” That bothered him. No one in the system was interested in defending it. No one. None of his students, none on the station, no one on the planet showed a remote interest in the navy. He was a bit rankled over that.

  “The Warners?” she asked, virtual lips puckering. Her eyes grew distance as she processed the idea.

  He nodded. Unfortunately both Taylor and Rasha had missed the meeting a few hours ago. He wasn't sure why, nor was Sprite. “They are certainly supporters of rebuilding the fleet and having a fleet presence in the system. They know what is at stake here. They are most likely going to be high on the new ruling council once it gets itself sorted out,” she said after a moment.

  Which was true, eventually. When the Fu's finally stepped aside or retired or whatever. Right now the Warner's were marginalized. “They'll figure it out. Eventually.”

  “Civilians, what can you say?” she asked dryly. He chuckled lightly.

  “I'd like to get Navy specific platforms out there. A DEW net would be nice. Refinery, maybe a basic dock. We can leave them the basics and a plan and see what they can do in their spare time. They know it's worth the investment to protect what's here and what will come with it. After all, their grandchildren will be here too some day,” he said.

  Sprite raised a virtual eyebrow on his HUD. “Laying the ground work for supporting infrastructure admiral?”

  “Exactly. I'm not saying Antigua won’t work as a core world, it's got the potential, and it’s just not ripe yet. We're getting what we can out of it. I managed to stuff some goodies in Lieandra and Kiev before they left remember? They'll help Horatio when he gets them. But we're not doing any good here and I prefer to be a moving target.”

  “Which is why you want to go walk about some more,” Sprite said tiredly. “Fishing in troubled waters?” she asked amused.

  He smirked slightly at that analogy. “Exactly. There is nothing better to concentrate one's attention than the threat of a hanging. People will be interested in getting off their asses and protecting what they have.”

  “Which is where we come in. If we get the timing right.”

  “Correct,” he said smiling. “Now, let’s get to work.”

  Two days later he was pretty sure his predictions were about to come home to roost. He'd turned down every demand of his time to focus on the Phoenix. Even his friends on the station were getting annoyed with his preoccupation.

  He'd been called in for a council meeting in a rather curtly worded e-mail. Out of pique he'd decided to attend. Perhaps the one eyed man could convince his blind fellows to reason. When he had arrived he had found most of the Pyrax mayors on board. Apparently they were doing a tour of the station at the time.

  Randall and both of his competitors for the Governorship were there of course. They had to make sure that they were in the photo op and not slighted or excluded by the competition. Some of the lesser mayors were not happy about the elbowing for room to grandstand from each of the others.

  The meeting wasn't going well, he could tell right from the beginning. Everyone came in with baggage, with their own viewpoint set in stone. No one was open to compromise. He'd tried to be reasonable as he laid
out his arguments once more.

  "Admiral we're working on the priorities of this system. You don't seem to be on board with that," Mayor Randall finally said.

  "Really? I object to that statement. I believe we both have the best interests of the people at heart, but we have different priorities," Irons said. “I was willing to bend and compromise mine. You however aren't.”

  “Oh?”

  “I had planned ten percent...”

  “Ten? That's it? Ten lousy percent??” A mayor scoffed.

  The admiral spread his hands. “It's a start.”

  “And the rest goes to what?”

  “Repairing the station, creating and maintaining infrastructure to support it, and building a naval presence to defend the station, the star system and surrounding space,” the admiral replied.

  "Building warships?" Mayor Randall said with narrowed eyes.

  The admiral shook his head. "Not right off mister mayor. I've actually put priority on rebuilding the station and it's supporting exterior infrastructure first. After that expanding resource production to meet demand, and then building the tools to build ships."

  "Such as the dry dock for a shipyard you had built?" Another mayor asked. Irons felt his jaw tighten and tried to fight the urge to glare. "You're planning on expanding it perhaps? To build warships?" she added smiling sweetly as the barb seemingly struck home.

  All three competitors were in on barbing him, in goading him. He wished he wasn't so hands off, wished he didn't have an imperative to institute a democracy. Wished that he had declared martial law and had the resources to back it up. But no, he didn't and even if he had he wouldn't. If he had held onto the governorship of Pyrax he would have... but then he didn't have a fleet presence in the system to back him up this time did he? He thought with a pang. No, if he had tried it here he would have been laughed out of the system. The old military adage to never give an order that you know won’t be obeyed played through his head as he set his jaw and prepped for an uncomfortable session. Let the matadors sink their peccadilloes where they could.