Chapter 23
Irons glanced at Bailey coming into the wardroom. The chimp hesitated at the sight of him and then came over. “How are you doing John?” he asked quietly, taking a seat.
“Okay. Fine,” Irons answered distantly. He was a bit distracted, going over the suspect list and thumbnail briefs of each. He was more determined than ever to find whoever was responsible for this. It was personal now. Before he could take it in his stride, it was a contract, someone put out a hit on him, or someone had a grudge. But now... now someone he cared about, someone he'd loved, someone he'd felt responsible for had been caught in the crossfire.
He knew he was feeling survivor's guilt, he'd had enough training, enough counseling to work it out and work through the steps to deal with it.
“Haven't seen you in a while,” the chimp said. Irons returned his attention to him. “In engineering country I mean,” he mumbled.
“I've been a little distracted,” the Admiral admitted. He'd dealt with the grief, or at least channeled it into anger and then focused it into finding this assassin. He owed it to April now. Grief was something he'd known for most of his career. He'd.... he shied away from the thought. She wasn't dead after all. Maybe someday...
It had been nearly a week. Six days to try to get over it. Try and fail. It wasn't something to get over, it was something he had to learn to cope with and move on.
He refocused his thoughts after a moment. They'd changed his quarters again immediately and checked the hab areas thoroughly. The investigation had been inconclusive of course. Not that they had any doubt what had really happened.
The glitches preventing a shut down or rerouting of the plasma had pretty much cinched it. They knew it had been deliberate. But unfortunately they had no idea how it had been achieved. EPS conduits weren't supposed to be remotely failed at specific locations like that. Or at least, so they had thought. So he had thought. He'd never had to do this before, figure out sabotage. Investigate it. Oh he'd repaired damage from an event, but never had to investigate it and seen it up close like this.
“Any news?” Irons asked after the pause lasted too long.
With something in the EPS conduits the chief had taken the ship's drive offline to do a thorough check. Irons could have saved him the trouble had he been involved. There was no other problem.
Taking the drive offline had sent them a bit off course. They were making up for it now, they were entering high orbit of Briev. There was still no response from the hails. Either they had been rock bombed like Agnosta or they had a really primitive radio network. Or they just weren't listening.
“No. I'm not expecting any. Harry and his crew are scratching their heads. I had Everette go over the damn logs three times and they are clean. We obviously can't get crap back from forensics with the plasma damage.”
“And my own handiwork,” the Admiral said with a nod.
“Damage control. At least that's how I view it. You did good. It's incredible that you survived...” he paused and looked away as Irons jaw tightened.
“Sorry.”
“You were saying? The techs didn't find out how it was failed at that specific location by remote?”
“Yes. Sprite didn't find anything?”
“Nothing Chief,” the AI said, subdued. “I wish I had.”
Bailey rumbled a sigh. “You and me both lady,” he mumbled. “You and me both.”
“Whoever did this was good. Very good. The different methods...”
“You're thinking an engineer?” Bailey said, brown eyes locked on the Admiral's. He hated the thought, but it had to be aired. He hoped he was wrong though.
Irons nodded slowly. “That or someone with engineering training. But that smacks of a pro. That was a careful preplanned attack. Something extremely sophisticated that took time to prepare. Time to get each of the individual elements in place while we were watching and then trigger them at the right time... Which stands out.”
“Professional?”
“Yes.”
“Ah. Crap,” Bailey growled. He knitted his fingers together and rested his chin on them. “So we don't know what to look for, what to watch out for, we don't have a suspect. It could be anyone. They are smart, so they could, hell, they have blended in.”
“Not exactly. I have a suspect list.”
“Are you eliminating the people without the skills to do this sort of thing?” Bailey asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“No.”
The simian's brow knit for a moment. After a moment he nodded as he worked through it. “Okay, I gotta ask. Why the hell not?”
“Because someone can play dumb,” Irons answered. “I'm pretty sure we're getting that here. Someone who is more than who they appear to be.”
“Crap,” Bailey sat back. “Someone with access like this means crew.”
“Not exactly,” Irons drawled out softly, thinking.
“What do you mean? It's got to be to...”
“It could have been something set up in advance while Destiny was under repair chief. Something preplanned. Or maybe the access to allow it was programmed into the system. A lot of this was preplanned. The exile, the virus, the lack of replicators... If they stuck a virus in someone might also have put in a back door for our assassin or assassins to use.”
“Which is what I am looking for right now. And coming up dry,” Sprite said.
“But that doesn't mean anything. It could be a hard wired access. A back door we can't see in the software. An over ride or something,” Irons answered with a grimace. “Hell, even a remote might work. Flip a switch on a tablet and it triggers something.”
Bailey thought about that for a moment and then grimaced, running strong fingers over his whiskered chin and tugging. “You have any idea how much we'd have to tear apart? Bow to stern?”
“It's futile to look over everything. People tend to filter out things after a while, just looking for something out of the ordinary or broken,” the Admiral said, taking a sip of coffee. “If it's been there since they came on board they wouldn't know it didn't belong. It might even have been built into hardware. Moly circuitry can be built into any electronic device. Either into the electronics themselves or into the casing or some component. We'd never know without the proper equipment.”
“Right. So we'd have to tear everything apart and probe it all. While underway. Somehow I doubt that is going to happen,” Bailey said shaking his head.
“No, but we could take a look at the security system,” Irons said firmly.
“You know what, that's a good idea. Great idea. Ed will scream, but I think he'll go along with it.”
“I'd prefer it if he didn't know, actually,” Irons said softly.
Bailey stopped rubbing his hands together and paused. “Suspect?”
“Or someone covering for one. I... we can't be sure. So I'd rather keep things as close as we can. Maybe do a few covert checks here and there...”
“Gotcha. A few glitch repairs,” Bailey said with a nod. “I don't have anything better to do since Harry's finishing the repairs. We've about two days before we go downside. I'm on it.”
The Admiral opened his mouth to object but the chimp was out of the chair and half way across the room before he could. He shrugged as he watched him go. It wasn't like he could object. If he did everyone in the compartment would have heard.
“You think we can trust him?” Sprite asked.
“We have to start with someone,” the Admiral said. “But I think I'll do a few random checks myself. Of areas I frequent.”
“Without anyone knowing your doing it. Wise,” Sprite said amused.
“Exactly. Now, where were we?”
“Crewman Dallas...”
Bailey scowled as he walked away. He wasn't sure what to do. He knew better than to have a chat with Chambers or the captain. He really didn't want any of them on the Admiral's case. He stomped into main engineering and nodded.
Everette and Harry had seen him coming and winced. The chi
ef was on the war path. He'd been on the war path ever since this last accident. Something had to be done soon otherwise their shoulders and backs were going to be permanently hunched and rounded. Or they were going to go deaf from all the screeching.
Of course he could go mute if he kept it up for long, Everette thought as the chief scowled at him. “Don't you have anything better to do?” Bailey snarled hoarsely.
“I'm... no, um, yes?”
“Which is it? If you don't I'm sure I can find something for you to do,” Bailey growled.
“I'm uh, I was just going to check out the cameras.”
“Fine, sure, whatever,” the chief said waving a dismissive hand. “Anything I need to know?” he asked, turning to Harry.
Harry pursed his lips, obviously ready to say something but then changing his mind. It wasn't fair that the chief was taking his ire and frustration out on them. Of course if they had been on the ball and not slacking off they would have caught the... he sighed and shook his head.
“The bridge is about done with the sublight drive. You were right, the gravity wedge got us in quicker and used a hell of a lot less fuel. I think we're going to be using it more often. It's going to put a bit more wear on our shield nodes though,” Harry said.
“Then we'd better compensate for it. See what wears the fastest in the nodes. Make a list up and then see what you can replicate. If anything on the list can't be done by us then ask the Admiral. See if he's in the mood to replicate spares for us. I don't think he'll mind the distraction.”
“You're sure?” Harry asked.
“I think he's going around in circles and could use the break to let it simmer a little.”
“Is he getting anywhere?” Harry asked quietly.
Bailey shrugged and then blew out a raspberry with his large lips. “You're guess is as a good as mine. He's not talking.”
“I hope he fries the bastard,” Harry growled.
“You and me both. I want to watch. I'll bring the popcorn.”
“I'll bring the drinks,” Harry said. He'd liked April. She had been a nice woman, and she had seemed like a good judge of character. Her relationship with Irons had helped cement the change in attitude toward him. They had made a great couple, loving and fun.
“We're running level three diagnostics on the systems now. I'm thinking we need to set up a random check. Compare it to what we've got on file,” Harry said, sitting on the edge of the console, crossing his arms as he looked at the chief. “Something to ferret out any more accidents before they happen,” he said.
“Interesting,” Bailey said with a nod. “That AI that Sprite made. Put it to use too. And see if we can find a way to alert us if a subsystem goes down, even for a brief moment. I want anyone who's in the area to check. Work with security. And if anyone's working on something they shouldn't I'll roast their balls slowly over an open flame. Pass that along.”
“Aye chief. I'll bring the butter.”
“Whatever. Get to work,” the chief growled, waving a dismissive hand.
Chapter 24
“Wow,” Sprite said as the Admiral looked around. “A medieval colony right out of the catalog. I'm curious. Why are we here again?”
Briev wasn't a pretty world, it was dank and dour, covered in moody gray clouds. According to the entry in the Encyclopedia Galactica the planet had a pronounced axial tilt and long severe seasons much like Agnosta. It's continents were bleak... he sighed. That was his mood speaking to him. He tried to shake it and keep an open mind.
Sprite was disgusted with the lack of data. And the lack of contact with the planet. They had no data communications, just a sign and audio channel. Scans of the planet had showed that it was still occupied. The capital city looked untouched. That was interesting. He wondered why.
Briev had a larger population than Agnosta. Or so he'd heard. It was however very medieval, clinging to that mindset and seemed reluctant to change and adapt. Odd.
The planet had four main continents and a handful of islands. There were population centers situated in about a dozen or so locations on three of the four continents. The fourth was an arctic continent that was only slightly populated.
The population centers seemed to have about six or seven thousand people in each, with the capital sporting about thirty thousand.
Agnosta on the other hand had been a rustic world that had been more along the lines of the Terran North American West. Ripe for change and very interested in it. Briev seemed stagnant.
Why wouldn't the leaders, monarchs obviously... why wouldn't the monarchs of Briev not want to better themselves and their people? He could think of a few reasons, clinging to power and such, but were they that tyrannical? Were they that petty and cruel? Did they realize that they were keeping themselves down? Their children? It wasn't just the comforts it was the absence of medicine too! What were they thinking? Were they luddites? He had to find out for himself, with his own eyes.
He'd been as surprised as the rest of the crew when the planetary authorities had readily accepted their assurances that they weren't the pirates. Of course Mayfair's offer of doubling the port fees had probably helped in that regard. He'd heard that Notuma and her had had a rather big blow up over that one. He smiled slightly at the thought. To bad he'd missed it.
“Didn't you say I needed a vacation?” the Admiral replied under his breath, getting out of the shuttle. He'd taken the risk of riding down in it, but only after doing a thorough check of it and waiting until the last minute before saying he would board.
He'd been tempted to take his launch, but instead he'd gone along with the Pyrax delegation after Ferguson had relayed their request. For some reason Miss Mayfair wanted him along and he wasn't sure why. He knew though that if she was the suspect she wouldn't want to be close to him if anything had been planned to happen to that shuttle.
The real reason he was here was because he wanted to keep an eye on the delegates. All of them were suspects. The old adage of keep your friends close and your enemies closer kept ringing through his mind. If one of the suspects was in the delegation he was fairly sure they weren't ready to commit suicide by taking the shuttle out. At least not yet. You couldn't spend your pay if you were dead after all.
Of course he'd left his decision to the very last minute to keep all involved off balance and in the dark. He'd had Sprite and Bailey go through the shuttle with a fine tooth comb. If there was something there it was pretty well hidden. He was fairly certain now that there wasn't.
The ride down had been smooth. Smoother than he'd expected. Miss Willis had looked a little green when they had banked, shuddering and shutting her window, but otherwise everything had gone like clockwork... right up until they landed on the bumpy tarmac.
He looked around, taking in the sights. It was... well from his perspective strange and different.
For some reason the people of Briev had clung to a medieval style of dress and architecture despite regular visits from passing ships. They really were luddites of some sort. It was hard to believe. They were wearing mostly animal products, wool and animal skins. He wrinkled his nose. Some of the furs hadn't been properly tanned and treated. He could smell rot from here.
The colors were greens, browns, and black, there was little of any other color. No buntings or such. Well, a few of the buildings had wooden signs with pictures carved into them, but no color to them at all. The carvings seemed to be burnt into the wood to highlight them.
One of their major exports was wood carvings. The other was furs. He shook his head at the absurdity in that. They didn't need to be a retrograde colony, but for some reason they clung to it's ideals. He was curious as to why.
Back before the war some tourist planets had been like this. Some had been just that, tourist traps to get people to spend their holiday on a resort world. A few had been by SCA members who wanted to create their own version of past life styles.
He'd even heard about the navy having to intervene when two SCA groups had taken their
life style a little too far and declared war on one another over an insult about a woman. It had been an amusing thing for some time.
“Yeah I did. And for once they actually invited you. Odd that,” Sprite replied.
“Funny,” Irons replied dryly as he took in the space port. It was simple, built in stone, with good foundations. The walkways were roman stone paths, with curbs and side walks. The Space port tower facility was a stone tower, washed in white and what looked like the local equivalent of bird poop. A great deal of bird poop. He eyed the alien aviators warily.
“They really have a bird problem don't they?” he muttered seeing the giant flocks of pterosaurs all over the place. They were different shades of gray, with black and white markings on their throats and heads. There were a few small flocks of what looked like Canadian geese as well. Most likely the geese had been imported. The shuttle had nearly run into one group while landing.
“Yes. Bird strikes are common here,” a guide replied. He looked like a court jester, dressed in brown tights and some sort of buckskin jerkin outfit. He had bangles on his pointed leather moccasins and a scepter to point the way. It was carved with various animals and tipped with the bust of someone who looked stern and foreboding. “We have falconers to shoo them off, but they keep coming back.” He waved to the mill pond near the runway. Reeds and water crests were all along the shores. “Breeding ground.”
“Ah,” the Admiral nodded. Beyond the pond was a forest, and beyond that he could just make out a distant chain of mountains. The air was clear despite the clouds looming in the distance. “Nice countryside you have here. Most were torn up by the war.”
“That is because we were a small new colony. We were a back to basics colony with little for the xeno's to take interest in,” the guide said waving the group towards the tower. He smiled politely. “If you'll follow me? You're attendance at the castle is required. If we do not hurry we will be late. Their majesties do not like that.”
Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer) Page 41