Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  The Admiral stood in the opening in the drapes and studied the patient while he tried to deal with his emotions.

  The man was old, easily into his twilight years. He was wrinkled and his flesh was pale, pock marked with scars. His eyes were closed. There was a yellowish tinge to his flesh in some areas. What little hair he had was silver and scattered; from the look of him he had had too much exposure to radiation.

  He was at least one hundred sixty centimeters tall, judging from the Admiral's scan. “Admiral, he is Chief petty officer Horatio Logan according to his IFF. Last duty station is as a power tech on the frigate Washington,” Sprite reported softly. He nodded. “He's unconscious, he's suffering from several issues including dehydration, radiation poisoning, malnutrition, exhaustion, a pinhole in his heart, and severe over use of cybernetics,” she reported.

  “I am detecting blood clots in his blood stream. He's recently had a minor stroke judging from his medical report. He has intense tissue swelling and irritation around his implants. Classic signs of over use,” she finished. He shook his head.

  “Cancer?” he asked.

  “Most likely a high possibility,” Sprite reported as the woman and man turned on him.

  “Get out. This is none of your business,” the woman growled reaching for the drape. The doctor stopped her with a look.

  “I asked him here.” She turned back to examining the patient. She pulled an eyelid open and flashed a light, then repeated the procedure with the other eye. She examined the readouts and shook her head.

  “We need you both in engineering not up here,” the man pleaded, sounding almost desperate. The woman looked at him enraged. The Admiral wrenched his attention from the patient to them.

  The man was short, about one hundred fifty centimeters, with a pale complexion of the true space born. He had curly black hair, thinning at his forehead. He had an average build, and was dressed in a civilian uniform. The woman was tall, over one hundred ninety centimeters, and had blond hair. She was easily in her twenty's or thirties. She was well built, and held herself with professional grace of either a trained athlete or dancer.

  She ran her hand through her hair and turned to the Doc. “He's just tired right?” she asked. The doctor sighed and shook her head.

  “He's got so much wrong...” she said softly. The woman stiffened.

  “Why isn't he in your nanite regen tank?” the Admiral asked. “You've got several listed in your TOE; I would think you would have him in there,” he asked. The doctor sighed and gave the uniformed man a look. “You could say they are reserved for more Important people.” She dripped sarcasm. The uniformed man winced.

  A name hovered over his head on the Admiral's HUD. Enrique Fernando, executive officer of the station. He nodded. Two windows opened on the HUD, Sprite was running a comparison program with the patient and woman. She found a familial match. He raised an eyebrow as the uniformed man studied him.

  “Just who are you?” the woman asked as the exec opened his mouth. He turned a humorous glance on her but then back on the Admiral.

  “Irons. John Henry Irons. Fleet Admiral,” a weak voice answered her. She turned to see her father raise a hand and point. He was trying to get out of bed or salute but the doctor firmly pushed him back down.

  “At ease Chief,” the Admiral said softly.

  The chief smiled weakly. “Aye aye sir.”

  The woman turned from looking at her dad back to the Admiral in disbelief. She seemed stunned. “You’re an Admiral?” she asked voice dripping in confusion. Irons chuckled.

  “Federation Navy. Fleet Admiral.” He came to attention then went back to rest. “I'm passing through and the Doc asked me to stop by,” he smiled.

  “Glad to meet another sleeper, let alone a familiar face chief. Rest up. We've got a lot of catching up to do and a lot of work ahead of us,” the Admiral said, gently patting a fabric covered foot. Weakly the chief nodded.

  “Can you get him into a regen tank soon?” Irons asked.

  The exec sighed still watching him. “No. The Port Admiral locked them down for his exclusive use. We can't get access.” He shook his head.

  “We'll see about that.” Irons turned and stepped out.

  “What are you doing?” The nearby nurse asked. The daughter followed. He went over to the nearest tank and examined it.

  “It's hopeless I already tried. He's got a computer...” Her voice faded as the Admiral found the universal jack and morphed his ring finger into a jack to jack in.

  “Spirit of space!” The daughter said stepping back involuntarily. He looked over his shoulder to see the exec had come out as well and was watching.

  “I'm in. Password bypassed. I've got a fleet priority imperative. She's all yours Admiral. That is if you dare use it with the power situation the way it is,” Sprite reported. He nodded.

  “I'm in. It's old, but functional if we can get a steady power supply to it.” The Admiral turned to the exec who looked away. The doctor came out of the bay and nodded.

  “Can we do something about that Shelby? Enrique?” she asked them with a bite of authority. The exec mumbled that he would see what he could do.

  Shelby nodded. “I'll see to it.” She moved off to make a call.

  “Get me a pair of orderlies here; we need to get this patient prepped for regen,” the doctor ordered a nearby nurse. The nurse looked up, nodded and rushed off.

  “Will it help?” the exec asked, moving over to her side.

  She shrugged. “At this juncture, it would take a miracle. But with him here.” She indicated the Admiral who smiled.

  “The possible is easy. Impossible takes a bit longer. Miracles are our specialty.” He held up his right hand as it morphed back to normal.

  “Since I am here Doc, I can take a look.” He went over to the chief's bedside once more. “Sprite, are you finished with your scan?” he sub vocalized.

  “Finished. I've compared it to the reading from the medical equipment; they are off by several degrees,” she reported.

  “Most likely way past their last calibration.” He turned to the chief.

  “He's out,” the AI reported. “The left IV is a saline solution. Right is a vitamin enriched one,” she pointed out. He nodded.

  “Can my nanites help?” he asked. Proteus appeared.

  “You would have to be in direct contact with him for a long time period Admiral, and there is no guarantee of success. Quite the contrary with this extensive damage,” the AI reported.

  “What about the criticals? Blood clots and pinhole?” he asked. Proteus lit a green light.

  “Ready.” He held up a hand to the chief's forehead.

  “Whatever you’re doing you better do it soon, one of those blood clots has made it to the brain,” Sprite reported. He gently placed his hand on the chief's forehead and felt the nanites begin to flow.

  “What are you doing?” the doctor asked. The exec was staring. Several medical personnel were coming forward.

  “Shh, blood clot. I need to get rid of it or he's dead,” the Admiral replied.

  “Sandy blood thinner stat!” the CMO called spinning. She rushed in examining the readouts. “I don't see anything...” The Admiral sent an impulse command. His right bicep changed as a trio of laser emitters emerged. A holo of the chief's brain appeared over the bed. The clot was highlighted in red, the nanites in blue.

  “He's got two of them? What is, wait the blue are coming in from outside? Is that you?” she asked studying the holo. He nodded.

  “Right, but it's hard to concentrate while people are asking questions.” He sighed in exasperation.

  A nurse handed the doctor a syringe. “Start with his right leg, there are clots there, he's near muscle death in his thigh,” the Admiral said. She pulled the sheet aside then felt down his leg.

  “Crap,”she muttered seeing his blue thigh muscles.

  She injected the solution then looked up. “Ultrasonics now. I need that vat up now!” she called just as an a
larm sounded. “Code blue!” she called. The Admiral nodded. “Got the clot.” He felt the nanites recede back into his hand.

  “Em charge. Clear!” the doctor called.

  “I can't almost out,” he moved aside. “Dampening field activated. Do it.” He nodded to her as she held the paddles up. She gave him a look. “Just do it!” he ordered.

  She put the paddles down and hit the button. His chest jerked as his muscles contracted. “Heart is in fibrillation. Again, no good. Upping the amperage.” She tried again. Then the power for the machine went out.

  “Wait.” The Admiral brushed her aside as the last nanites made it to his hand.

  He dropped his hand from the forehead of the chief to his exposed chest. “Clear.” He fed a spark into the heart, and then followed it with nanites.

  “The pinhole has expanded. Aorta is going to rupture if that blood clot gets there...” Sprite reported.

  “He's got a blood clot and a leak in his heart. It's causing part of the problem.” The Admiral replied as he felt Proteus insert nanites into the nerve endings of the heart muscles then calm them with pulses.

  “Fibrillation is under control. Removing blood clot and sealing hole,” the AI reported. He nodded looking up. “Fibrillation is under control for now; I will have to stay here till we get him in the tank,” he nodded to her. She nodded back.

  The exec's communicator started to beep insistently he took it with a grimace of dissatisfaction and spoke to someone about a problem with the power then looked away as he closed the communicator.

  “I'll just be going. Admiral I would like to talk to you...” the exec said. The Admiral nodded as the exec turned to him.

  “As soon as we get him stable in the tank I will drop in on engineering and see about the bottle,” he smiled.

  “Thank you,” the exec sighed in relief. The Admiral chuckled.

  “Meanwhile, get with the purser of Io11; ask them for trade for critical parts for the fusion reactor. Offer them platinum and rare metals like osmium in trade. Tell them I referred you,” he met the exec's eyes.

  He nodded. “Right, good idea.” He rushed off.

  “Think it will work?” the doctor asked softly looking up at him.

  “No idea. One step at a time Doc. Triage,” he nodded to her. She shook her head. “My you are full of surprises. Are you a medical fleet officer as well?” she asked. He chuckled.

  “No, engineering and fleet command. I prefer to get my hands dirty though.” He shrugged. “Most of what I am doing is based off of high school health class and my implants. Some is coming from your medical texts.”

  “Glad you can,” she said nodding her chin to the chief.

  “Blood clot destroyed. Admiral it was a pack of cancer cells,” Proteus reported. The Admiral sighed.

  “What?” the doctor asked.

  “The blood clots are fragments of malignant tumors, most likely cancer cells. He's going to need a lot of work to get back on his feet.” He grimaced. “He's not that old, not even one hundred. He's my age,” the Admiral said, shaking his head.

  “I accessed his implants Admiral, there is considerable swelling around them and some neurological damage due to inter-cranial bleeds near the frontal lobe links. He must have been in considerable pain,” Sprite reported. The Admiral nodded.

  “Make sure you treat for swelling around his implants, and inter-cranial bleeds. He's a mess Doc.” He shook his head as the orderlies wheeled them to the vat. He walked along side. His hand resting on the chief's chest.

  “We'll do what we can. We don't have a dedicated medical AI to control the nanites though,” she reported. He nodded.

  “Nor implants. I know.” He shook his head as they lifted the chief up and over the side of the vat. He started to sink in the goo until his body rested on the gel bed. “Nanites detected, hand over in progress...hand over complete. Extraction progressing,” Proteus reported.

  The doctor and medical staff expertly removed the IV’s and switched his respirator over to the one built into the regen tank. The Admiral stepped back as the last nanite reentered his body.

  “He's all yours,” he nodded.

  “Right, okay someone find out why it is so cold in here. Bobby, is his air up?” The doctor looked up to the orderly who gave her a thumbs up. “Make sure the hoses don't kink.” She watched as he carefully tucked the slack hose down beside the chief's head then closed the lid of the tank.

  “Press start... oh, you already did,” the doctor looked at the Admiral who shrugged. She watched his readouts for a few moments then motioned her people to get back to work. She quietly ordered a nurse to check on the tank every ten minutes.

  “Admiral, I'd like to ask you a few questions in my office before you leave...” She motioned for him to follow. Amused he did.

  Once more in the office she sat down and picked up a tablet. He noted a terrarium he had dismissed before. “Herbs or medical?” he asked pointing to the cylinder in the corner.

  “Both,” she said, not looking up. He nodded.

  “So, what did you do? You destroyed the blood clots, and repaired the hole... Blood clots are usually dislodged fat globules. Are you sure they are cancerous?” She looked at him for confirmation. He nodded. She put the tablet down onto a stand and activated a virtual keyboard. She rapidly added the details of the encounter into the medical log.

  "We are the most advanced medical facility in the galaxy Admiral," the red haired chief medical officer stated with quiet pride. "What's left of the galaxy of course.” She shrugged. “I have the most working equipment, and three other doctors, six nurses, twelve orderlies, and nine paramedics on staff," she said proudly.

  The Admiral nodded. "Io has can match you in equipment and training probably," he replied absently. The doctor leaned back.

  "I find that hard to believe, they are just a tramp freighter," she said dismissively looking down at a tablet.

  The Admiral's eyes flashed. "Io 11 is a Caberei class Fleet tender. Her crew and I have spent the better part of fifteen months rebuilding her. Her crew is now the finest in the galaxy." His clipped tone made the doctor look up. "For your information, we restored her entire sickbay, and restocked it. In fact, they are making a second planetary facility now. They have two doctors, three nurses, five sick berth attendants on staff, and most of the crew is trained to EMT status, with over twenty trained to paramedic level." Her eyes widened at that.

  "How..?” she asked setting the tablet down then cleared her throat and began again. "I stand corrected." She gathered herself. "Perhaps it would be a good idea to have a medical exchange, meet the doctor's on Io, and exchange databases and pass on skills.” She nodded. The Admiral nodded but decided to twist the knife a little.

  “They have several training simulations as well now," he smiled. “Their crew is an all Terran one, but I believe they were exploring alien physiology when I left.” He smiled.

  She nodded. "Yeah. That might be good." She tapped her fingers on her arm rest in thought. "You say they have the entire sick bay working? The last time they were here they were trying to barter for medical supplies and my best surgeon to fix their doctor." He nodded. "Everything. The crew is in excellent health. Doctor Clarissa has been healed, and is now out of stasis, as is all of the other injured."

  She shook her head in growing wonder. "My you do work miracles if you could achieve that, I took one look and wrote her off as a lost cause." He froze, and then sighed. "Doctor, I've survived worse injuries." He raised his right arm. She looked it over then blushed.

  "Perhaps I gave up to easily," she said embarrassed.

  He nodded. "Yes, perhaps you did," he said softly. She gave him a look, and then ducked away from his challenging eyes.

  "Point taken. I will talk to them straight away." He nodded as he got up. She picked up a communicator. "Communications get me the Io 11's doctor." She waved as he exited. "Hello? This is the Chief medical officer of Anvil; I was hoping to arrange a meeting with your medical s
taff... They are in surgery? Valdez? Oh!" she smiled. "With your..." The door closed and he smiled.

  Chapter 5

  "Engineering is restricted," the voice responded.

  "This is Fleet Admiral Irons; I am trying to contact Miss Logan." He looked up, trying to remain patient as he watched Sprite work on the HUD.

  "No joy Admiral, it's a manual lock out. We are on the wrong side of it," Sprite replied. He grunted.

  "Admiral? You've got some set of balls coming down here." The voice dropped into a growl. "I oughta kill you right now you asshole..." the voice continued.

  "FLEET Admiral not Port Admiral. FLEET Admiral," Irons replied testily when the voice wound down. "Look just contact miss Logan. She left sickbay a few minutes ago. The exec and her father asked me to come down and take a look at things." He tried not to sound too exasperated.

  "Admiral I am all for getting back on Io and letting them stew in their own mess," Sprite responded sounding testy. "I can't get around the lock and their firewall is nasty." She sounded as testy as the voice on the other end.

  "Admiral Irons?" A female voice came on after a moment.

  "Yes. I'm trying to...”

  The lift car lurched back into motion. "Right, get to engineering to see what I can do."

  The doors opened and a man looked at him. "In there." He pointed. His coveralls were old and thread barren, covered in patches and grime. He had a lot of facial hair and a bit of a paunch. "No lip. She's got enough on her mind," the voice ordered. He turned. "Thank you." He nodded and followed the directions.

  "In here Admiral," a young man called. He followed. The young man led him through the corridors and several rooms before they ended up in main engineering.

  The engineering compartments were clean and relatively well organized. There were a few signs of age and wear of course, and the occasional crate of parts or robot. The young man waved to indicate an office. The door had a sign that said Chief. “In here.”