Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

“Report back then,” he admiral said softly, already knowing the answer.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  When Phoenix reported back that there were no signs of life Helen sat back in her chair, eyes cold. Some of the team were stricken, but a few muttered darkly about poetic justice.

  “Are you keeping the quarantine up?”

  “Planetary... for now.”

  “Great.”

  “Oh, you?” Helen asked. She smiled a tired wane smile. “You can go admiral, you and I both know you are clear. But I'd wish you would stay. We'll need help with the cleanup, and I really think you should be rewarded.”

  “No, pass on the awards. But I'll stay to help with the cleanup and to help you settle in as officers,” the admiral replied thoughtfully.

  Helen pursed her lips in thought and then nodded. “We did open ourselves up to that didn't we?” she asked. “Can we resign? Wait, commissions,” her eyes darted back and forth and then she nodded. “Yes we can.”

  “And if you do the keys you have are deleted,” the admiral warned. She pursed her lips in annoyance. He waited.

  “Okay, so, that's out,” she finally said, getting up from her chair.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Speculation that someone had deliberately infected the government 'summit' made the rounds in the grape vines, and even in the media. Most of the media was keeping the very idea at arm's length.

  Helen remembered that last shipment from Hodges and wondered about it. After a long moment she shrugged it off. Oman and his cronies had left others to die while he went to safety. Having him receive a dose of what his people had been going through... well, it bothered her that the kids got it too, but... it was out of her hands after all.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  As life slowly returned to normal and the economy lurched back into motion people took stock of what had happened... and how their world and worldview had changed. For some it was as if a door opened, new beginnings. For others a door closed, in some cased with permanence of the dead.

  The death toll was sobering. An estimated one hundred twenty five to one hundred thirty thousand people had died. A day of mourning was called for by the acting governor Osiris. It was greeted with some agreement, though many didn't like the source. Helen and her medics got behind the project and it reluctantly became a reality.

  The planet was draped in black cloth, every building had black of some sort, and everyone dressed in black or dark colors. Public speeches of mourning were set up, though few attended, most wished to be with their remaining families.

  There were an unknown amount of animals dead, the countryside in the affected areas were littered with entire herds that were dead and rotting.

  Areas in effected zone had to be burned down to end contamination. Farms, crops, forests were all set ablaze and burned. Irons was worried that the virus would be kicked up into the atmosphere, but the virologists were now certain most would die when it reached the upper atmosphere. Besides, they had the nanite shield and the knowledge on how to use it. But to be sure they were instituting a mandatory worldwide inoculation program.

  Epilogue:

  Irons spent a great deal of time cleaning things up. An additional month passed, but he didn't mind the extended wait. He kept busy, working with Fox who had taken over as C.E.O. of his company and had started them on an aggressive R&D program. They were leading the way on just about every front, and had even begun construction of the system's first space station. It was an ancient inflatable design, he'd helped them out by passing on the blueprints and even using his shuttle to lift the core components into orbit. It glittered, it's solar panels and aluminum skin making it stand out as it orbited the planet, catching the sun.

  The station would soon serve as a docking port where goods and fuel would pass between ground shuttles and visiting ships. Everything incoming would be quarantined, the new government was taking the 'once burned thrice shy' approach. He couldn't really blame them, they were still counting their dead. They may never have a finished total. For some, including him, it haunted them.

  Fox's company had even constructed the first truly Epsilon built computer network. A computer tech genius in the company figured out the 'smart personal assistant' templates, they now had a dumb AI, in fact several of them.

  The company had also built the computer network for the hospital at cost. Sprite had initialized a dumb AI designed to be a medical research assistant. The AI Asclepius would help Director Richards and her staff in their medical training and Renaissance.

  He'd gotten his fuel and other supplies, and he'd also gotten additional resources to build two cargo shuttles, a passenger shuttle, and a small automated tug to service his tiny gas giant refinery. He was leaving it behind, he just didn't have the room on the Phoenix. Helen and Hank had brokered deals to have the little ship stuffed to the deck heads with fuel in exchange for the shuttles. Hodges of course had tried to charge him triple, somehow he hadn't been surprised. He now had real fuel though, deuterium and Helium 3, all stored in refrigerated tanks. Phoenix was cracking jokes about being a tanker.

  Helen had taken her team to the various ports once the pathogen crisis was firmly in hand. Doctor La Plaz had whipped up a variant of the nanites for the genie population. He reported to Helen after the inoculation of the genie and otter population, stating he had hug bruises all over. And four marriage proposals, one from a chunky female with the lower body of a black octopus. She was pretty persistent, he'd had to go inland to avoid her clutches. Helen laughed so hard nurse Marlone threatened to sedate her. Though the old woman was smiling a bit too at that news.

  When Irons heard he'd barked a laugh. He was relieved that something had been done about Mara and her people. They deserved better.

  Fox's company had taken charge of the shuttle and tug running to the small Jovian refinery the admiral had left. He had replaced the refinery with a new one. It was tucked up on the underside of the ship's hull in pieces. He would need it once he got to B100omega. It had a small Jovian that would hopefully serve to refuel a rather dry Phoenix.

  Right now the ship was stuffed, she had all the fuel she could store as well as replacement parts and materials. He'd spend the voyage putting the interior of the ship back together. Phoenix hadn't been kidding when he'd said he'd stripped the interior to make the final EMP bomb. Only a few things, his industrial replicator, and the single stasis pod with the kittens inside had been spared.

  But now it really was time to go. He'd completed everything he'd set out to do, the people here were once more healthy, and if not virtuous, at least they were on their way back to a more law abiding civilization level. One closer to what the Federation once was.

  Irons noted a familiar figure lounging against the side of the hangar. It would figure that he'd run into Ole Blue one last time on the taxi way near his shuttle he thought. Fitting really. One last loose end, he thought. He could make the alien out, resting against the back of the hangar in the shade, head down with a piece of plastic sticking out where his mouth would be. He's totally relaxed Irons thought. That was probably one of his secrets, the casual way he killed. He didn't get worked up, after all, it was a job and he was the best at what he did. Or so he thought.

  “I believe it's about that time,” Ole Blue said, not looking up.

  “I think so,” Irons replied, voice steady. People around him were wide eyed. Many started backing away.

  “Oh you do?” the assassin cackled, pushing his fedora up to look at Irons. In the shadows his implants made the alien's eyes seem to glow. “Glad you agree,” he cackled again.

  “Oh I didn't say I'd be the one who will meet his maker,” Irons replied, smiling slightly.

  “You need a weapon,” the assassin asked, spitting the plastic out and putting his left respirator back on.

  Irons snorted. “I'm fine,” he replied flexing his right hand.

  “Suit yourself,” the alien said, straightening up and walking out to get clear of the build
ing. “Any last words?”

  “I was wondering if you had any?” Irons asked.

  “You so good at killing nanites you think you can kill my babies?” the alien laughed. “No one can do that.”

  “I think they are as good as dead actually,” Irons replied, voice even with self-assurance.

  “Actually admiral, I'm not all that certain myself,” Sprite replied in his ear. He blinked but didn't have any other reaction. Now was not the time for second thoughts.

  The modified Veraxin cocked his head, tipping a claw to tip the fedora slightly back. He really did buy into the whole western mannerisms. What was that and Veraxins? Why were they so infatuated with Terran Westerns? Irons put the thought aside as he listened. “You intrigue me Irons, you really do. I've been at this nine hundred years and you are one of the few not afraid. Only fools don't fear me.”

  “I'm no fool,” Irons replied with a slight shrug. He realized that the alien lived on the fear, treasured it. He was a blood sucking monster, an alien vampire that needed to be put down for the good of all.

  “We'll see,” the alien replied. He glanced slightly to the left where a clock was embedded into the tower. It was an old fashioned clock, with a hour and minute hand. The hour was not quite noon. “At noon?”

  “Sure,” Irons replied, noting it was a minute until twelve. What timing, he thought, right out of some grade B Western flick.

  “Smoke this bastard sir,” Nohar growled.

  “I intend to,” Irons replied slightly to the side. “But you better clear out in case of ricochet,” he warned.

  “Yeah,” Nohar replied, waving people back.

  Nohar nodded politely to a very worried Helen. “Don't worry, Irons has this.”

  “You sure?” she asked nervously, arms crossed and leaning closer to him to talk to him over the crowd.

  “Sure I'm sure,” Nohar replied with a growl. His ears were back though. “Irons is a survivor believe me. He didn't come all this way to fail. He'll do what he's set out to do.”

  “Right,” Helen said nodding, eyes on the impending match.

  Irons felt an active sensor scan and smiled coldly. Defender put up a false image of his implants. The assassin would only see what he wanted him to see.

  “You have some strange implants,” the alien said, brushing his duster aside to expose his shooters. His left hand held the duster behind him, the right flexed near his pistol grip. Irons knew the upper hands were for show, the real killers were the true hands the alien was keeping concealed. That was how he's done it for so long Irons thought. Everyone watched the upper hand. Like a good stage magician Ole Blue AKA Bane set the stage and diverted the attention of his audience. Divert, misdirect, and division.

  “I'm one of a kind Bane,” the admiral replied. He felt his shields spinning up to full power. Proteus pooled nanites on his skin, ready to kill anything that got through. The fingers of his right hand came together and he started forming his plasma blaster.

  “Ah, so you know my name!” the alien cackled. “I'd wondered.”

  “We may not have traveled in the same circles but I've got your dossier. Care to see it? I like the part about how good you are with nanites, how you can make more since you somehow hacked a code key.”

  “Well! Seems you're right, I might of bit off more than I can chew this time,” the alien laughed. “I see that now,” he said. He didn't sound like he really believed that though.

  “No turning back,” Irons said, watching the countdown tick inexorably down to zero from ten.

  “No hard feelings?” the alien asked amused.

  “Nah,” Irons replied as the second hand got to the fifty eight mark. “None at all,” he said coldly, hand flashing up in a micro second, slightly faster than the augmented alien. A blinding blue bolt leapt from the tip of his blaster intercepting the nanite bullet on its way to him, devouring them and then slamming into their sender. The Veraxins eyes went wide and he screamed very briefly as his body was incinerated by the power of an angry blue sun.

  “Really, none at all,” Irons said softly, staring at where the body of the assassin had once been. Nanites were gobbling up the remains. He went over and used his plasma weapon to cleanse the area just to be sure. With rogue nanites, especially gobblers there was no such thing as overkill as far as he was concerned. He didn't even notice the cheering and clapping until he was finished.

  “Well! That was anticlimactic!” Sprite said in his ear. He smiled and nodded to Nohar and the others.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  In the chaos and vacuum of the loss of the leadership of the planet, Nohar had taken charge of planetary security. Helen had managed to get him into a regen tank and replaced his missing body parts with cloned replacements. She said it was because she wanted him as a walking advertisement... and only a younger cat could keep up with security and the constant headaches of the mob. Nohar had just snorted.

  He'd been a little annoyed, but resigned to the fact that Solaximara was the new head of Neo affairs. The red Neo was already maneuvering to become the lieutenant governor of the colony when elections were held on the next landing day. He had a bit of competition in Hodges, who couldn't make up his mind if he wanted that position or the governor's mansion.

  Hank McCoy was deeply involved in engineering and medical technology. Helen had kept her job as Director of Medicine, but she'd been the interim governor since all the other directors and the previous lieutenant governor had died before help could arrive.

  She'd thankfully handed the reins of power over to Commissioner Gordon, who said he'd clean up the government and make it more effective. He'd already started on a general house cleaning in law enforcement, and had even rammed through a new constitution. Some said he'd be a shoe in for the governor's mansion in the next election... if someone didn't bump him off first.

  Sprite had reported that Gordon was getting support from Fox. Fox had apparently installed new computers and security systems for the commissioner and helped him secure additional tech to hopefully stay alive.

  Gordon had refused to be called governor, in fact he had made it clear he didn't want the job. He made it plain that he would only hold it until the next election. Irons wasn't sure if the former police commissioner was sincere or a really good actor. He'd watched a few of Gordon's speeches, the man didn't lie once. He played it straight, he was brutally honest, and he got the job done. All good qualifications.

  It didn't matter, Gordon was polling astronomical numbers from the population. He may not have a choice in running come next year.

  It would be somewhat ironic if it really did turn out that a man who didn't want the job but was best suited for it ended up being forced to take it. Diogenes may have found his honest man, Irons thought.

  The governor had wanted to attend but had instead been called away by a hurricane approaching the southern coast. Irons thought he had his priorities just right. Besides, he barely knew the man, the people he would most miss were right here. He nodded to Nohar.

  “Well, if you won't go to the army, I suppose we'll have to send them to you,” Irons teased the tiger, shaking his artificial hand. Nohar snorted.

  “Don't get an old ranger's hopes up. I wish Rajar could have...”

  “I know,” Irons said softly, patting his shoulder. “I know. The kid did all right, he just didn't know. We need to fix that. Teach them.”

  “Right.”

  “Which is what I was hoping...”

  Nohar's eye turned to him and he stopped, ears flicking for a moment before they went fully forward. He chuffed, his left hand on his abdomen. “You don't quit?” he demanded, laughing.

  “Nope.”

  “Well, I'm glad, it's a good thing. I'll think about it. No promises,” he warned, one finger upraised in warning. “I kind of like my life now. Getting up at oh four hundred hours and shining some officer's ass with my lips isn't something I'm that attached to doing.”

  “I was fairly certain it wasn't,” Iro
ns replied with a laugh. “Take care of Hank will you?”

  “McCoy? He's landed on his feet. Good kid, he's running engineering so don't worry about him. He's in his glory. Jerry's managing him to keep him out of trouble and keep people from taking too much advantage of him.”

  “Good,” Irons nodded. “Take care. I'll hopefully be by again someday.”

  “Stop in at Kong's and I'll buy you a beer,” Nohar replied with an ear flick. Irons nodded to Helen and Audrey. Audrey gave him a hug as Nohar backed off. Helen just gave him a polite wave. She turned, one hand going to her ear piece.

  “Surprised she made it,” Audrey said, looking back at her.

  “She's good people. You two make sure she stays that way,” Irons said.

  “Easier said than done,” Audrey replied, wrinkling her nose in disgust as Jerry came over and tugged on Helen's skirt to get her attention... and knowing Jerry to see if he could induce a little female clothing mishap mayhem. She looked down and swatted at the chimp. He chuffed in annoyance as she adjusted her skirt belt and then covered her earpiece and demanded what he wanted.

  Irons turned, giving them some privacy. “Knox will be around sometime, I sent a recommendation letter to him.”

  “Oh just what I need. People thinking I'm on the straight and narrow. You do know how to ruin a girl's reputation don't you?” Audrey demanded. Nohar snorted, shaking his head.

  “Take care, all of you,” Irons replied climbing into his ship with a backwards wave.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Are we ready for this?” Phoenix asked as he approached to dock. Irons leaned forward unnecessarily, craning his neck to look at the ship as he made the final approach.

  “Yes. As ready as we'll ever be,” Irons replied. “Though if you want to stop at the refinery to top off...”

  “Thanks but no thanks,” Phoenix replied dryly. “I'm full up already,” the AI replied.

  Irons snorted. “Suit yourself. Calculations complete?”

  “Waiting on your mass readings right now,” the AI responded. Irons watched the doors as his Fleet launch drifted into position. He came to a relative stop in time to feel the tractors engage, drawing his shuttle up into the bay. There was the barest of perceptible bumps as the shuttle docked and then umbilicals attached to her top and starboard side.