Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  "Most of my staff want to come too," she slurred taking a swig. "Water. Don't you have anything better?" she asked.

  "It's for the hangover," Irons replied sounding amused.

  "What hangover?" Angie asked.

  "The one you’re going to get when you wake up," he smiled. "Go sleep this off Angie. Report in the morning." She nodded and tottered to her feet.

  "Good idea," she sighed moving off. She made it to the wardroom then fell face first onto the sofa. After a moment he could hear a snore.

  "What did you give her?" Irons asked chuckling.

  "Whiskey. I think Miss Angie had hit the bottle beforehand though. I could smell it on her breath when I served her," the steward said concerned.

  Irons nodded. "Possibly. And four glasses in a fifty kilo body probably went straight to her blood stream," he chuckled.

  "Talk about an easy date," he sighed getting up. He picked up his cap. "I'm going to have a chat with Enrique. If any others want to join, let me know. And if she asks, they aren't getting priority to fix their mess. Security should have stopped the bitch before she got there. I'll have a go at Smithy and the watch commander as well If any of her crew show up let me know.”

  "I will sir. I believe several have already asked commander Logan however."

  "Great," Irons sighed.

  "Enrique, what the hell were you thinking?" The Admiral said as he stormed into ops a few minutes later and then paused.

  Logan gave him a guilty look but he was clearly pissed. "You came down on your own people instead of backing them. You bawled them out in front of a witness?" Logan snarled throwing his hands up in the air. “In front of the staff? Hell man!”

  Enrique looked away, body posture stiff and unyielding. "It's complicated."

  "You're damn right it's complicated! Half of Anvil's engineers have just jumped ship!" Liam said. He too threw his hands up in the air. "I've half a mind to join them! What the hell were you thinking!"

  "I was trying to be diplomatic," Enrique answered. "How bad is it?" he asked.

  "If I poach the current engineering class I can make up some of the difference, but we've lost most of the experienced replicator people and about fifty of my reactor crews," Liam snarled. "There go my watch bills."

  "Where are they going to go? When they cool off they'll come back," Enrique said, brushing lint off his arm.

  "No they won’t," the Admiral said. Enrique and the others looked at him. Enrique stared.

  "They won’t?"

  "No, most have already gotten jobs on the merchant ships, Destiny, on Hephaestus, on other colonies, or in the Navy," he shook his head. He looked around the room to the watch people. They were pretending they weren't hearing. "Perhaps this isn't the time or place to be discussing this?" he suggested.

  Liam snarled. "I've got better things to do than bitch. Somehow I've got to pull a watch crew together for reactor four and the replicators in less than an hour. I've got one, repeat one!" he waved his index finger in front of Enrique, "...person manning each now. That's because of your brown nosing fuck up. Fix it!" he snarled and then stomped out.

  "Well, that was interesting," the Admiral sighed.

  "I've got to go to the ball," Enrique muttered and turned to leave, adjusting his cuff link and then his tie. He murmured something to the officer on deck then left.

  "Crap," Logan sighed running his hand through his hair.

  "Just realized you made the same mistake he did?" the Admiral murmured, standing beside him.

  "Yeah. I wasn't the first though, Liam beat me to it. I walked in on it and just piled on." The Admiral nodded.

  "He's not going to be able to fix this is he?" the officer of the watch asked.

  The Admiral waited a beat before answering. Logan beat him to it though. "Not right away. One 'oh shit' can wipe out a ton of 'that a boys'," Logan answered. Irons couldn't help but smile at that.

  "What he means is one good screw up sticks in the minds of people a lot longer than doing it right. He knew he was in the wrong and screwing his own people was the worst thing he could have done. Hell, us talking to him about it... or even talking about it now with you behind his back is also bad," he explained to the confused officer.

  "Yeah, right. I get it," she said shaking her head. "Is Angie okay?" she asked tentatively.

  "Last time I checked. She got hammered then passed out on my couch after signing up in the navy," the Admiral shrugged. “Hopefully she doesn't barf on the couch or carpet, I just had them installed six months ago,” he said darkly. She looked startled.

  "The navy? I thought she'd go to the factory ship!" She looked surprised and confused.

  Logan shook his head. "Billy and Mandy took Hephaestus. She doesn't want to step on their toes since they got senior positions. She'd have to bump one of them. The navy or a freighter was it. After the rep pissed her off, I didn't think she'd go to another colony."

  The Admiral nodded. "We can use her. We've got our second industrial replicator up and running and Prometheus is in the wings. I'll put her in charge of it in Bu-ships with you," he nodded to Logan.

  "That is if she doesn't change her mind when she recovers from the hangover," he shrugged and smiled.

  Logan grinned. “Wouldn't be the first time someone tied one on and signed up with us then regretted it when they woke up with a migraine and foul taste in their mouth.”

  Irons snorted. "How are we coming on the dry dock?" he asked.

  "We've got the shells finished for the first two final assembly and fitting bays. We should be able to move in a week or two as soon as we finish running the wiring and chasing down the usual crop of bugs," Logan answered. “I can't wait to get the ships under construction into proper slips. It should help with safety concerns.”

  They had finally decided to bite the bullet and make their own temporary quarters with the docking tree and transhabs. The station and a couple of the colonies had given them limited space, but they were scattered all over the station or all over the inside of the colonies. Firefly had finally succeeding in making the planetoid base San Diego, but it would take months for it to cool before they could move in and start making it habitable.

  "Maybe I'll make her the chief of the dry dock. She's got civilian grade implants. It wouldn’t be hard for her to adapt to military grade. I think she can keep an eye on the reactor crew too. After all, I trained her," Logan said softly.

  "Right. That just leaves her shoes to fill here. And the damage to replicator one," Irons said.

  "Their problem," Logan said walking out. "Let them fix it," he said over his shoulder.

  "Ouch," Sprite said.

  "Ouch indeed," the Admiral grunted. He cocked his head for a moment then smiled grimly. “And I totally agree. Make a note, if anyone asks, we're busy,” he waved as he left.

  "Admiral, I'm monitoring a backlash in your publicity profile. It is a disturbing trend. I'm getting indications that it is a coordinated effort by multiple parties," Sprite cautioned. Irons grimaced.

  "In what form?" he asked. He was surprised he'd be roped into this mess with Enrique. The exec had thought it would blow over in a day or so. It had in fact grown. He'd clamped down on it but most of his more experienced crew had either jumped station or were ready to do so.

  "Debates on various channels have the general trend to say you’re a power hungry dictator. There ares even several negative grass roots slander campaigns against you and the navy. One of them states that we are drafting the poor."

  Irons grimaced. "That's an old saw." He shook his head. Educating the public about the military being an all volunteer organization was an ongoing process. "And the others?"

  "Well, one is a twist on the body snatcher thing." He grimaced. "Another is that you're poaching the best talent for the fleet and leaving incompetent boobs in charge of the colonies." He scowled. That one hit close to home.

  "We're also catching flack over not opening access to the ships and their replicators." He grimaced again
, then ran a hand through his hair.

  "I thought we settled that. Thirty three is out there doing a tour right?" he asked.

  "Apparently, that's not good enough. They want the entire quota of every replicator," Sprite responded.

  "Not going to happen. We've given up priorities with the civilian ones and fallen back on our own in house for our own demands. I'm not retreating on that," he replied firmly.

  "And hence the negative publicity," Sprite responded. "I've snuck a few civilian projects in when time, power, and materials allowed, but nothing major," she replied. He shook his head.

  "Favors?" he asked. "You better not have been using Navy equipment to make anything illegal or immoral," he said.

  "No Admiral, merely filling a need. Most of it is in trade." Irons grimaced again. He hated that. She fed him a list of things. He waved it away.

  "All right, all right," he grumbled.

  "Do you have a plan?" Sprite asked.

  "No. Continue the course plotted. I'll try to up my profile a bit, but I'm not going to dance to their tune and play their game. And Anvil's replicator one can damn well STAY down." Enrique had waited a full shift before asking for him to fix the replicator. Then begging. He had ignored what had come his way. Finally the complaints had stopped.

  Security was now posted around engineering and the replicators with stern instructions to turn away any unauthorized personnel without exception. Smithy had fielded some protests from reps and their staff but had made sure the public knew it was a safety measure. A few judicious movies about people getting killed by sticking their noses where they didn't belong had shifted public opinion their way. For now.

  "You're mixing your metaphors again Admiral," Sprite replied.

  "So sue me."

  "Let's not give them any more ideas," Sprite sighed.

  Enrique looked around the crew with a dissatisfied air. “Why are we slipping on our production schedules? We missed a shipping date to a Vesta colony. I just got an earful from her two representatives and her mayor.”

  Liam scowled. “What do you expect? We're down a replicator. Not to mention about a third of our people,” he snarled. He looked tired.

  “I thought it was repairable?” Enrique asked. He was still catching flack he realized. It wasn't his fault! He thought but then tried to set his annoyance aside.

  “When it was purged? Hardly,” Liam shook his head. “I'm not sure if it was the dumb bastard who broke in and tried to reprogram it, or Angie doing it out of spite and spleen. Either way it's totaled.”

  “That bad,” Enrique frowned. A full industrial replicator? He tried hard not to wince at that. He'd been too busy getting ready for the ball to look into the implications. Obviously the fall out was not the only thing he had to deal with on this issue. “How soon can we replace it?” He shook his head. Obviously he should have looked into this sooner he thought to himself.

  “In a word never,” Liam said tossing a tool onto the table. “She's beyond our ability to repair or replace.”

  “But the Admiral did...”

  “That's because the Admiral has the codes and plans,” Liam said. We don’t.”

  “So that's how he did it,” Thornby said nodding. “I get it now.”

  “Ah.. can we ask him to fix this?” the communications director asked tentatively.

  “Not likely. He's busy. And since we've been pissing the Navy off by cutting them off from support and access to the factory ship and our own replicators... can you blame them?” Liam said shaking his head.

  “Damn,” Enrique said softly. Now he understood why the Admiral had been furious and had not helped them fix the thing.

  “The good news is I've got a minimum watch crew for the reactors and life support. Mostly by poaching some of the engineering students and calling it internships. There are a few bright spots here and there, some of the crews are pretty tight and won't jump unless they all do. Hopefully things will settle down soon though.” He wasn't holding his breath though, a week and things were still in an uproar. They say time heals all wounds, well, he wished it'd hurry the hell up!

  “Yes, word of what happened has been all over the station grapevine,” the director said shaking her head. “It's been embellished of course.”

  “That explains the sick outs and slow downs,” Liam said nodding. “I'm half expecting strikes next. Reactor one went without a watch for half a shift until someone caught on.”

  “Are you serious?” the security chief asked.

  “I wouldn't put it past some people. They are pissed. Morale is low. Almost as bad as where we were before the Admiral came.”

  “I'd say it's not that bad,” Thornby said shaking her head. “But it could be better.” She admitted and then sighed. “You really stuck your foot in your mouth Enrique,” she said turning on the station commander.

  “I'm figuring that out for myself thanks,” Enrique said bitingly. The doctor's face cooled into a frozen mask.

  “Sorry. Sorry,” he sighed hands up in surrender. “We're all on edge. This situation sucks.”

  Matilda snorted. “Tell me about it. We've had the occasional problem at the college as well.” She shook her head.

  “Can we do anything about this?” the director asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Ah... spin control? Get the truth out, or at least something resembling the truth that isn't as damaging? Maybe a public apology to this Angie fellow? Get her back? Offer her a bonus or something?”

  “She's not coming back,” Liam said shaking his head.

  “But, where will she go?” the director asked surprised.

  “To the navy. She's signed on and is now a full first lieutenant. She'll probably be fast tracked to lieutenant commander if she works out,” Liam replied. “She was always one of my best leaders.”

  “She just got her military grade implants yesterday actually. It will be a week before she reports for duty,” Thornby said smiling.

  “That's right you’re in the navy too,” the director said with hooded eyes.

  “Me too,.” Matilda said smiling and raising her hand. The director turned a startled look her way. “We're both reservists,” she said, resting an arm over the doctor's shoulders.

  “I was thinking about signing up as well,” the Veraxin sheriff said chittering his mandibles. “But my job is a little too involved for me to go off to train or play marine.” He shrugged. “Besides, being a soldier is a young man's game. I'm an old fart.”

  “Speak for yourself sonny,” Matilda growled as she straightened. “I can see if the Admiral can come by to fix your replicator sometime. But he's pretty busy,” she looked up. “Yes, his schedule is pretty heavy for the next week or more. Then there is that stupid dog and pony conference the assembly is insisting he attend.”

  “You have implants?” the director asked, blinking and looking thoroughly surprised He'd wanted them but they were restricted to military and engineering people. Not that they really needed them he thought with another pang of envy. Or at least, not engineers. Not all of them anyway.

  “Of course,” Matilda smiled looking down at her. “All part of being in the navy sonny. I just put in a request to Sprite for his schedule. She says he's booked solid for the next two months. She might be able to divert him for a brief fix sometime soon but she said he's not going to be on station for a while. And that fix isn't something short and sweet, its at least a shift of work. Complete electronic rebuid and nanite purge and replace.”

  “Oh lovely,” Liam said shaking his head. “Well, we've got to work with what we've got then. You’re just going to have to keep the riff-raff away from the other replicators and out of engineering all together.” He eyed the sheriff, then the AI. The AI nodded.

  “Can we get nanites from another replicator and transfer them?” the director asked. Liam shook his head. “Oh, why not?”

  “The moment they are outside the replicator they self destruct as a safety precaution,” Liam explained. Matilda
nodded.

  “The last thing we need is rogue nanites loose on the station,” Thornby said with a shiver. The others looked at her then nodded. That was a nightmare no one wanted to ever have to face in their lifetime.

  “Can we get someone else to do it? Make another replicator I mean,” the director asked.

  “Nope. It's a military prerogative. Only engineers and engineers with flag rank have the codes. It even takes a commander or higher just to authorize a food replicator to be made.”

  “Oh. I thought the governor will get the codes?” Enrique asked.

  “Oh he may, if he ever bothers to get implants. So far I've nixed him twice because of his health. One time was because of a scheduling conflict. The Admiral has to be the one to pass him the codes so they have to be in the same place during the operation.”

  “Which isn't going to happen anytime soon,” Enrique said shaking his head. “Is he avoiding me?”

  “Not likely. Busy. He's a busy man,” Thornby said shrugging. Matilda did the same but she had a small smile. Enrique caught it and sighed.

  “That's what I thought.”

  “Some people have to learn the hard way,” she said. “You didn't want to listen when he tried to counsel you the first time. Now here is your penance.”

  “So that's it? We're going to adjust?” the sheriff asked.

  Liam scowled sourly. “What more do you expect? I don't care who they are, I don't care if they are representatives, tourists, or some busy body on the station. Keep. Them. Away.” He tapped his finger against the table with each word. “Or the next person gone will be me,” he shot the look to Enrique. “And I'll take most of what's left when I go. You need to get your priorities sorted out. Now.”

  “In other words, do you want a running station, or chaos?” Smithy asked. “Stop kissing the politicians asses and start paying attention to business.”

  Enrique sat back. “All right,” he sighed. “I... I...” He shrugged helplessly. “I'm sorry okay?”

  “Enrique, in the end who's opinion of you matters the most? The people who follow you? Or some bureaucrat on another colony?” Matilda asked softly.