Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  “Well, it's caught. We'll have to do an investigation, log the evidence, the ah, recordings,” the security chief shot a glance to the Admiral who shrugged.

  “You'll have Sprite's report when I do,” he said and then shrugged. He cocked his head and accessed the AI but felt them in the middle of a bit by bit comparison. “But I don't think it will be right now, they are going over the hard files with a fine tooth comb. Bit by bit comparison of files and rebuilding damaged files will take time.”

  “Yeah. I can imagine,” the captain said dryly. He shot Irons an ambiguous look. “I thought you were supposed to be in the galley?”

  Bailey shifted then raised a hand. “I pulled him. I didn't like the harmonic we've been having and wanted an expert opinion.”

  “And got more than you bargained for,” the captain nodded. “Very well, carry on,” he turned and walked out. The chief shrugged.

  “Can you get me the report by the end of the shift?” the chief of security asked.

  “I'll see if they can get a prelim out. A blow by blow log may take time. They are pretty serious about making sure there aren't any more surprises lurking.”

  “Yeah. About the packages, I'm just going to go test that scanner thing we got.”

  “The bomb detector? Good idea. I'd suggest going over the ship's systems carefully. Explosives aren't the only way to ruin a ship.”

  “Oh?” the security chief asked, eyebrow raised. Bailey grimaced.

  “I think I know where he's going. You're talking about guillotine traps, acid, that sort of thing?” Bailey asked scowling again. Irons nodded. Bailey turned back to the security chief. “See if someone gets cute and puts one of those say, in an ODN trunk...”

  The chief shuddered. “Say no more. I'll have my team check it out. But I don't think we would know what to look for.”

  “Which is where we come in,” Bailey said looking at his crew. “Wake the other shifts. Get them here now. I want an eyeball look at every square millimeter of this ship by the end of the shift.” He looked around as some began to move but others were staring at him. “NOW PEOPLE!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs.

  Irons and the security chief winced at the primal shriek. The engineering staff ducked for cover then sprang into action.

  Chapter 2

  Irons came into main engineering the next morning and paused. Chief Bailey was grimacing, exposing his teeth. His fur was fluffed and standing on end. He was clearly not in a good mood. He pointed to the object in an engineers hands and threw his hands about. A grinder nearby drowned out his voice for almost everyone in the room.

  “Do you want to hear what he's saying Admiral?” Sprite asked. She sounded amused.

  “No, but I can guess,” Irons said coming over to the chief. The simian's shrieks grew louder then stopped abruptly as he noticed the Admiral standing there.

  “You asked to see me chief?” he said, watching the Chimp. The tech he had been chewing out looked at the Admiral with a mix of revulsion and relief.

  It had taken the concerted efforts of both AI and the crew to get the ship's systems back on track. They'd used a lot of fuel up in the lowest octaves before then. The system was finally stable and Proteus had patched enough of the control runs together for the crew to take over once more, allowing Irons to unjack and take a break.

  Irons had helped out with the repairs but then had been chased off by the chief sometime in the middle of the third shift. Bailey himself had followed him out to get some downtime, muttering darkly about no one making any sense until he had some food and rest.

  “Yes,” The chief shook his head trying to get himself under control. “I've got more of a cluster fuck,” he sighed. “My office.” He waved then turned to the hapless tech. “I'll deal with you later. Find something to do in the meantime, sweep a floor or something. That's all you're good for if you make cheery mistakes like this,” he growled.

  Irons winced and then preceded the simian to the office. Irons didn't like to bawl people out that often, he wasn't of that school. There were several different approaches, her preferred to teach the person and lead over bawling them out. Obviously the chimp was of the other school.

  Not that it was wrong, it was just not a leadership style that he was comfortable with. He preferred to get the best out of people by other means. Fear worked for some, but it usually affected moral and was a long term unhealthy environment. Then again, some used it, effecting a bully attitude to keep their people on their toes, and give themselves a theatrical out. He wasn't sure about the chief though, he was every centimeter sincere in his manner.

  He tried to put it out of his mind. The bay had quieted as people looked at them. He tried not to hunch his shoulders or look around. He stood at the open door as the chimp passed him.

  The office was a typical one for a chief, cluttered with odd bits here and there, a well used and stained coffee machine, a pair of stools, book case filled with bits and manuals, some paper of all things, others chips, and a battered metal desk and chair. The desk was covered with papers and tablets. It looked like a couple of burnt out computer cards were serving as coasters or paper weights, keeping the AC from blowing some of the papers around the room. If there was any sense of order to the room Irons wasn't seeing it.

  That of course was normal as well. People were people. Most liked to keep their own sense of order, and they differentiated between work and home. Or in this case comfort zones, he thought in amusement.

  Bailey closed the hatch door. Irons snorted. There were rags and an extra coverall hanging from the back of the door on hooks. Again typical.

  “This is a well and truly screwed up situation you know that?” Bailey sighed, sitting on a stool. He reached over with a long arm and tapped the intercom. “Coffee for two. One with two sugars. You?”

  “Black is fine,” Irons replied.

  “One black,” Bailey grimaced again. “And bring me a danish or something. I missed breakfast.”

  “Had an early start?” Irons asked as the chief's hand lifted from the intercom. He shot the Admiral a look. He was still dealing with the mess from that hack. He'd been on it the moment they entered hyper. It'd taken him eighteen hours to get over his pride and call the Admiral in, and by then it had been nearly too late. He suppressed a yawn. He had gotten a whopping two hours sleep before being rudely interrupted.. Forty eight hours and he'd had to take a break.

  “You could say that. Got woken up a couple of hours after I went to bed. Been on my feet since then,” he answered dryly, trying to get the cobwebs out of his head and focus.

  “Ah.” Irons nodded. “Anything I can help you with?”

  “Well, I was hoping you'd say that. I need to pick your brain,” Bailey chuckled at Iron's expression. “See, we've got a problem. A couple of them. One is that I just found out most of our part stores were a computer fabrication.”

  “You're kidding. The virus?” Irons asked.

  “Or something,” Bailey sighed, shaking his head. “I don't know how. I think I know why, someone charged for the parts, pocketed the money, and then left us with boxes full of scrap. They might have been tied into the sabotage ring. Who knows,” Bailey sighed throwing his hands up in the air. “Damned if we'll ever know. Probably all long gone by now.”

  “Ouch,” Irons said wincing.

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  “All the parts are gone? Trash I mean?”

  “A few of the boxes have parts on top but then crap in the ones underneath. Scrap mostly. We're looking into it.”

  “Can you replicate more? Use the scrap for material?”

  “Which brings up one of my other headaches.” Bailey rocked back and forth for a moment then got up in a simian snarl and slapped his desk. “Damn it all!”

  There was a knock at the door. “Chief?” a short human steward came in with a cart. He gave the Admiral a cold look then poured the chief a cup of coffee.

  “Thank you. Leave it. Come back for it later. And dro
p the damn sour looks. Pass that along now,” the chief said, settling into his chair. He picked up the coffee.

  “I take it there is a problem with the replicators? You were supposed to have two small industrial ones and a bunch of food replicators,” the Admiral said, dredging that up from his own memory since Sprite was busy. Even though he had unjacked she had stayed in the net, working through his wireless connection. He'd need to jack in soon so the other AI could lend her a hand. “One of the industrial replicators is supposed to go to Agnosta to help them rebuild I think.”

  Bailey shook his head. “We've got one, count them one food replicator in the officer's galley. The others weren't installed. They were in a crate, or were supposed to be. The crew was going to install them while we were on our way out,” the chimp sighed. “Another one of those things to do while we were in transit.”

  “Oh,” Irons grimaced. “No industrial replicators I take it?” he asked.

  “Nary a one. Now you see my dilemma. We're screwed,” the chimp sighed. “We need parts, some of the damage the virus did blew or fried electronics all over the ship. Well, that virus or Sprite. Not that I'm complaining,” he finished hastily, looking up at the overhead.

  “Ouch,” Irons winced again. He knew what the aftermath of a cyber war could be like. Sometimes in the battle the best way to beat an enemy was to deny them territory, to scorch the hardware. Obviously they had enough to keep the ship functional but he didn't want to think about how many layers of back ups they had burned through... and how many remained.

  Come to think of it yes he did. He did need to know, he did need to do something. He sighed mentally.

  “So, we need the systems and don't have them. As I said, screwed,” Bailey grimaced, flicking a stylus away. It fell from the desk, clattered and then rolled across the carpet.

  “Not really,” Irons said as he reached out and took a cup and then the pot. He poured himself a cup.

  “We can't do squat. If a system goes down without a back up or parts... That's it, poof!” Bailey growled. “And we've mickey moused the computer together... I'm not sure how and why it's still working.”

  “Sprite has a lot to do with that. She's in the net right now managing things. Proteus was for a while, but he can only access the net when Sprite isn't or I'm jacked in.”

  “How's that?” the chief asked, picking up a danish and taking a bite.

  “Well, they can use my wireless network link, but only a handful of places on the ship can handle the bandwidth required. Main engineering for one,” the Admiral explained. “Another deferred project.”

  “Ah,” the chief nodded. “Electronics isn't my cup of tea, but I gather the Wi-Fi in the guest quarters is limited?”

  “By design. Guests shouldn't be hogging that much bandwidth,” Irons shrugged. “The quarters are also on a fire walled system designed to keep guests from tampering with the ships systems.”

  “Ah,” the chief said as he nodded. “But you're doing it now?”

  Irons nodded. “It would be a little easier if I was jacked in though.”

  “Be my guest,” the Chief said, waving to a nearby universal port.

  “Okay,” Irons shrugged and moved his chair over to the plug. He jacked in and turned to see the chief watching. “What?”

  “That never gets old,” the chief said with a smile. He looked up to the large bay window he had, then back to the Admiral. “So they can do something?”

  “Software mostly. Although I might be able to rebuild some of your back up systems. If they aren't too bad.”

  “Which is a problem,” the chief grimaced.

  “Someone trashed them?” Irons asked, raising an eyebrow in query.

  “Oh yeah. Got their frustrations out good and proper. Figuring that they would just dump them into the recycle bin for the replicators and poof! Brand new,” he grimaced at that thought.

  “And you can't,” Irons nodded in understanding. “Is that why you were disciplining your tech?”

  “Oh hell no. That was the fuck up who signed for the delivery of the junk we got instead of the parts we were supposed to get. The moron didn't even take the time to look,” Bailey sighed, sitting back. “I can't totally blame him, we were stretched thin. Even I didn't consider someone would do something like this. Screw us over this bad.”

  “I wonder how bad the rest of the cargo is,” Irons said, staring off into space.

  “You and me both. Which I brought up with the purser. He's checking now,” Bailey growled. “But I already checked the manifest, no replicators.”

  “Perfect,” Irons grimaced. “I wonder where they went.” He shook his head.

  “What the replicators?” Bailey asked. “Someone didn't make them.”

  “Oh yes they did,” Irons growled. “I did.” He shook his head as Bailey stared at him. “I'm the only one who can. I authorized their construction. Food replicators as well. I was jacked in the entire time.”

  “Oh,” Bailey grimaced, running a hand over his balding head “I didn't know that.”

  “I'll bet our dear friends in the ruling council didn't know that too. Or chose to ignore it,” Irons said shaking his head.

  “So you can make more?” Bailey asked.

  “With a replicator,” Irons shrugged.

  “And it takes one to make one,” the chief sighed. “And we don't have one. Great. Perfect.”

  “I didn't say that. You don't,” Irons smiled to the startled chief. “But I do.”

  “You...” Bailey sat straight. His brown eyes gleamed and his shoulders looked like a heavy weight had just been lifted from them. “You've got one? Where?” He looked at the arm. Irons chuckled.

  “In my shuttle of course. I have a small military grade industrial replicator and a food replicator there. I also fixed the food replicator that was in my room.”

  “Ah,” the chief gushed out and nodded in sudden understanding. “Can you ah... I know we haven't treated you well...”

  “I'll get on it Chief,” Irons said nodding. “But I'll have to do it from my shuttle. Which means access to the boat bay. I'll also need the raw materials, and power. A lot of power. Megawatts.”

  Bailey's lips pursed. Power was at a premium right now. The lower octaves meant no hyper collectors, so they were burning fuel. “Oh. What about the plans?”

  “They are built into the replicator database. Most industrial replicators have a quad of hard memory for such things.”

  “Oh,” the chief blinked. “I didn't know that.”

  “Which is one of the reasons they are restricted access,” Irons said with a shrug. “If just anyone can make anything... well..”

  “Yeah. Okay, I get it. But you're okay with it?”

  “Sure,” Irons shrugged. “I'm a passenger on this ship as well chief. I don't want her to get lost or have something happen just because I'm in a rough spot. I'm rather attached to my hide.”

  “You and me both,” the chief laughed feeling relief for the first time in hours. “All right, let's do it,” he said slapping his hands together. He nodded as the Admiral unjacked.

  “I'll go to my ship.”

  “I'll clear the way with Ed and the captain and get the power and parts on the move. Thanks Admiral.”

  “Sure,” Irons said, nodding. He left.

  “Sure. They like you when they need you. When they have their... how did you put it? Hides are on the line?” Sprite said acidly. He shrugged, ignoring the looks in the bay and corridors as he made his way to the shuttle bay.

  “What ever. We're not going to be here forever.”

  “Might as well seem that way. And working under a cloud in a hostile environment for a prolonged period isn't healthy Admiral. Too many things can happen.”

  “How many have that attitude by the way?” he asked, feeling a perverse need to know and not really wanting to hear the answer. He knew he needed to though.

  “Too many. Despite the evidence I made them watch.”

  “It could be r
esentment over being forced to watch it you know.”

  “True. I haven't undertaken a study to see where the crew's loyalties lie. Do you want me to check that out?”

  “Not now. We've got more important things to deal with.”

  “True.”

  “Right,” Irons nodded. “So a little good will can't hurt.”

  “As long as they don't resent you for it,” Sprite cautioned.

  “Bitch, bitch. Can't have it both ways,” he sighed. He knew she was playing devil's advocate but it was getting annoying. “I'll do what I can, where I can and do it to the best of my ability. That's all I can ask of myself or others.”

  “If you say so Admiral. I suggest you limit the usage to you alone and only critical parts and systems,” she cautioned.

  “Now you're getting paranoid. But yeah, I'm not happy about having to do something twice, and not at all happy about being used,” he sighed. “It does make me wonder what the hell happened to those replicators and all those parts. Who got them.”

  “Wont they be surprised when they try to use them for something they aren't supposed to and they go belly up,” Sprite replied with a mischievous tone.

  “Now you're thinking,” Irons smiled. “But I think we should make a note. Pass it on to the IG office to investigate,” he said quietly as he nodded to the guard a the entrance to the boat bay. The guard touched her ear bud then nodded and moved aside. “But first things first.” Irons turned as footfalls came behind him. A pair of techs came running with coils of cable.

  “This way folks,” he waved as the door opened. “Lets see if we can fix this.”

  Irons rested on the couch, letting his mind wander a bit as he waited for the tray to finish. He looked at the clock again. Twelve more minutes. Great. At least the kids who had been with him had taken a break.

  They weren't all bad, but they were green. Green yet hard and in some ways brittle. Partially educated, which was a problem. All to be expected in this time period.