Enemy of my Enemy (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 1)

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Enemy of my Enemy (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 1) Page 67

by Chris Hechtl


  He presented the idea to the senior staff. “I don't honestly know how many ships we can repair and how many we can fuel and man. I had thought three, but it might be more like two or even one. I don't know,” Horatio admitted, looking around the room.

  He could tell from some of the expressions that some of the officers were skeptical about the proposal. Most of the engineers seemed exhausted but clearly enthused by the idea.

  “I take it this isn't going to happen soon though sir?” Mack asked.

  “No,” Horatio stated with a shake of his head.

  “Well, that's a relief,” the chief engineer rumbled.

  “The good news is, if we can manage it, we can send one of those ships to Bek with a small prize crew. They can then pick up more supplies and personnel,” Horatio said.

  “But we'll be short-handed,” Captain Clayton pointed out. “And I'm not willing to let my navigator go, sir.”

  “Understood. We'll figure something out. Volunteer crew obviously,” Horatio said. He grimaced. “But you are correct; it will be tight. The biggest problem is as you just pointed out, the helm and navigation. We've got plenty of people who can handle everything else, plenty of engineers.”

  Captain Clayton nodded. “Right. But we're not there yet, sir,” he cautioned.

  “No, but this is the flag officer part of me planning a couple steps ahead,” Horatio replied, forcing his tone to remain even and not tart in rejoinder. He didn't mind when someone played devil's advocate normally, but even he had a limit. The captain blinked and then nodded.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Some of the ships that were too damaged were broken down for scrap after being stripped and picked clean. Others were designated as repairable, so they were set aside to be salvaged and rebuilt at a later date. One of those ships was a large Oasis class star liner, but two bulk freighters, a yacht, and one colony ship were eventually also designated to be rebuilt.

  After a lot of thought and consideration of their mission and the various specs of the ships, Horatio decided that the Oasis liner and the colony ship would be the first two of the ships to be rebuilt. The yacht would serve as an excellent courier.

  Two couriers had also been found, but they had been far too battered to be usable. Both had been sent to the breakers.

  Slowly but surely the tugs cleared the star system of large derelicts, debris, and asteroids. When they got through that, Horatio planned to stable them until they were resupplied with fuel.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  As they completed their initial pass, the survey team found a Demeter class tumbling off course. The ship was battered from debris impacts. Many of her domes were shattered. It had been the glitter of reflection from the glass and plastic that had alerted them to her. “We recovered one in Pyrax during the salvage ops there,” Horatio said at dinner that evening when word of their find spread.

  “Sir? I mean, do we need it? An agro ship really? In this day and age?” Commander Koba asked.

  “I think some people wouldn't mind fresh grown food. And they definitely wouldn't mind a park to walk through,” Horatio mused.

  “Oh.” the XO frowned thoughtfully and then nodded.

  “I wouldn't mind a stroll. I wonder if we could fix her up. Maybe use one of her domes as a park like you mentioned, sir? I think I'd prefer a sports arena myself,” Mack said.

  “Anything is possible. The modules are detachable,” Horatio replied.

  “Is that what happened to the ship you found, sir? The one in Pyrax I mean?” Commander Koba asked, cocking her head in inquiry to him.

  “That one …,” Horatio frowned thoughtfully. “If I remember right, we ended up selling it to a civilian outfit. They took the hyperdrive and starship systems out and sold them on the open market. I was a bit peeved since they insisted we fix them and then turned around and did that.”

  Mack snorted. “Typical.”

  “Right. They took advantage of us. Fine. The ship became a farm colony in the star system. She roves the star system in an orbit and delivers fresh food or seeds to those who trade for it.”

  “Oh.”

  “So, are you planning on turning that ship into an agro deck, sir?” Captain Clayton asked politely.

  Horatio nodded. “We might as well. Fixing the windows will be a pain in the ass, but it's doable,” Horatio said. “If necessary we can scavenge one module as parts for the others,” he explained. The officers nodded. “We can yank her engines and drive when we dock her to the station. We can get started on an upper ring I suppose. Push her out a bit, or use her as one of the arms since she has a good spine, then build off of it. She's got eight modules we can use.”

  “Oh,” Commander Koba said thoughtfully as he envisioned the concept. After a moment, the XO nodded. “It fits, sir.”

  Horatio smiled ever so briefly. “Glad you approve.” the XO blushed and looked away.

  “It still gets me how quick we can tear a ship down,” Captain Clayton said, shaking his head. “I mean, I thought it'd go slow. But …,” he waved a helpless hand. “You make it look so easy.”

  “I know what you mean,” Mack rumbled wryly. “It seems unnatural,” he said uncomfortably.

  “To some, yes. It is a reverse of putting a ship together. The good thing is we don't have to be as careful as when we put it together. It's all cutting. But we do have to plan right if we want to salvage stuff. And we have to make certain everything is cleared first of course.”

  Mack nodded. “I thought we'd be pulling wires, then the pipes and so on. But the arms make short work of it.” He was describing a gantry tunnel system Horatio had overseen construction of. It had taken time to get it up and running, and more time to debug it, but once it was up, it chewed apart a ship in days. The gantry was expandable as needed. Robotic arms moved on ring tracks around the inside of the gantry tunnel. Lights were attached to the arms to allow the vision systems to see clearly. Once a ring got to work on a section, the arms flashed out, cutting and picking apart the section of ship like Terran leaf cutter ants. The arms that pulled the pieces away would hand them off to other arms set on longitudinal tracks that would trolley them to sorting sections for storage and further processing.

  The good thing about it all was that it was run by a minimum crew in their own habitation module. Occasionally, a pair of them would pilot a robot to independently survey a section of the ship in advance of the ring, or they'd take a suit and MMU out for a more personal inspection.

  “Obscene in a way. Freakish if you ask me,” the captain said with an atavistic shiver.

  Horatio glanced his way, then shrugged such considerations away. “No one likes to see a ship torn apart, especially a sailor. But it is a part of the life of a ship. This process is efficient and as painless as possible. It works, and it's not manpower intensive. Three things we need to consider carefully.”

  “Aye aye, sir. Do you think Bek will send us additional warm bodies?” Captain Clayton asked carefully, changing the subject.

  Horatio grimaced. “I hope so. We'll see.”

  “Well, at the rate your monster is chewing up ships, sir, we won't have much of a Sargasso space sea for much longer. I give it another six months or so and we'll have cleared the star system,” Mack said.

  “And then what?” Commander Koba asked, eyeing the commodore.

  “That … I'm not sure about. Improve the station obviously. Unfortunately, the Admiralty didn't set long-term goals for us other than to set-up the station. I've got a few in mind. We've got all those surplus parts Lieutenant V'r'x has been storing for us. We can go over them properly.”

  “I see, sir,” the XO said, suddenly uncomfortable.

  “Well, the good news is, we're in contact with Admiral Irons and can ask for orders from him,” Gemma piped up.

  Mack opened his mouth and then closed it quickly when the XO glanced at him. “Yes?” the XO asked, lifting an eyebrow in inquiry.

  “Nothing, sir,” Mack said carefully.

 
Horatio frowned. He wasn't certain what was going on, but he picked up on the sudden undercurrent and tension. As the XO's eyes narrowed, his own did in speculation before he caught on. He sat back. “Well, the good news is, the last order of a senior officer trumps any other orders and can countermand existing orders. Admiral Childress certainly used that to his advantage. Since we don't have future orders, we will rely on Admiral Irons and the Admiralty to set the next goal. If anyone else in the chain of command has a problem with that, they can take it up with him,” he said diffidently.

  “Um …,” Captain Clayton frowned.

  “Are we clear on that?” Horatio asked, voice suddenly taking on the tones of authority. Suddenly the room stilled. His audience stared at him. “Well?”

  “Yes, sir,” Captain Clayton said instantly. The others echoed that a moment later.

  “Good. We're all officers here.”

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Since Lieutenant Commander Decoure was busy with a problem with the installation of the station's second fusion plant, Horatio oversaw the final installation and boot up of a dumb A.I. into the station's growing computer network. It was a simple procedure; the hardest part had come when it had come time to pick a name.

  He eventually settled on the name Dutch, which was short for Dutchman. Given the A.I. was in a station built out of ghost ships, it seemed logical to him.

  The A.I. was a class 1 dumb A.I. within the central core of the station, not in the computer networks on the salvaged ships. The Quantum had several computer networks so it would take time for each to be checked, serviced and repaired and then brought on line. And once online, their databases would have to be cloned and then scrubbed down to their operating system while techs worked on connecting the various networks together.

  So for the moment, Dutch had a small network to occupy. Since he was a dumb A.I., barely classed as sentient, he didn't seem to mind. Also, since he was a dumb A.I., he had little need of downtime to “sleep” and integrate new experiences into his memory index.

  Bailey took a shine to the A.I. right off since Dutch could help diagnose problems quickly and efficiently within the electronic network. The Bekians were at first leery of talking back to the A.I., much to his amusement.

  “Dutch can you run a level one diagnostic on the new server we just installed? And check the WiFi strength, communication's system, the software side and power readings of the reactors, get me a power budget graph, and locations of the crew while you are at it,” Bailey said as Gemma came into the central control compartment.

  She stopped dead for a moment and then moved over to the life support console. Horatio glanced at her and then to the Neochimp. He was about to say something when his implants pinged.

  “I've got to go,” he said as he scanned the message. “We've got a priority mix-up in the factories again,” he sighed heavily. “The station master threw them a curve with an emergency priority request for parts for the second reactor,” Horatio said with a shake of his head.

  “See ya, wouldn't wannabe ya,” Bailey said flippantly.

  “Cute,” Horatio replied as he departed.

  “I have the first report, Mister Bailey,” Dutch said. Gemma looked up and her eyes narrowed as she saw the A.I.'s image. Dutch hadn't customized it yet so it was a stock silhouette. Bailey grunted as he scanned the report.

  “Is it always going to be like that?” Gemma asked.

  “Like what?” Bailey asked absently as he scanned through the diagnostic report. As he started to read it, the other requested reports came up in their own windows in a random pattern before they were rearranged in a list of what he'd asked for from first to last. He grunted in appreciation.

  “Like … that,” she said, indicating the image on the screen with a distasteful wave of her hand.

  Bailey looked up with a frown to her and then looked over to the image on the screen. Dutch hadn't taken on a customized avatar so he was a basic stick figure with a fleet coverall on. Come to think of it, he didn't have rank either, Bailey mused.

  “No, eventually he'll look more like a person. He's a baby. It takes time for even A.I. to grow up and become what they want to be.”

  “But … I mean, isn't it wrong to have a computer like that? What if he doesn't want to be in there?”

  “Where else would I wish to be? Within another network?” Dutch asked curiously.

  “Quiet you,” Gemma growled.

  Bailey eyed her and then shook his head. He went back to scanning the report. “You don't talk to a person when they are in the same room as if they aren't there. It is rude,” he said mildly.

  “You talk as if he really is a person. He's software. Parts yes, but in the end, software,” she said. “We pull the plug and he's gone.”

  “True; and the same could be said of us, correct?” Bailey asked as he ran a finger down a string of code. He tapped a link and hummed to himself as he scanned it. “I mean, if we pull the plug on a person, stopped their life support they'd be dead too,” he said.

  “But … but … we were born …”

  “And he wasn't?”

  “He isn't even a he! He was installed!” She grimaced. “It I mean!”

  “I chose a male persona. Should I present male genitals on my avatar?” Dutch asked.

  “Thank you, no,” Gemma said, rounding on the A.I.

  Bailey snickered. “Stop encouraging him. It!” she said in exasperation.

  Bailey shrugged such considerations off. “Sometimes a computer is a better friend than any organic,” he said as he looked up from his report.

  “Are you serious?” Gemma asked, eyeing him in surprise from where she had been seated at the life support console. “You aren't serious, are you?” she asked witheringly.

  “Of course. Would you rather have a computer running your life support or try to do it totally by hand? Initiating every switch, on off, monitoring every sensor … no software at all, no computer. Just analog.”

  “Well …,” she frowned.

  “See?” Bailey asked with a tight-lipped smile. “You and I can barely handle 1 percent of the job, trying to turn fans on and off, read sensors, get the air mixture just right …. A computer does it a thousand times faster and more efficiently than we ever could. They allow us to focus on other things.”

  “Okay, true. But a smart computer? One that can rebel?”

  Bailey snorted. “Well, first off, it's not that smart. No offense,” he said, turning to Dutch.

  “None taken. I think,” the A.I. stated. His avatar began to take on a humanoid form. Bailey wasn't certain just yet, but it looked more like a Neochimp than a human. If he was right, it might be proof of imprinting that he'd suspected and debated with various engineers over the past decade.

  Or it could be that Dutch just liked the cut of his jib and had decided to emulate him since he hadn't had any other interaction as of yet. Or maybe it was because he was a friendly face among the near hostile Bekians? It was a different form of imprinting to be sure but close enough to government work for him he thought.

  Bailey's face split into a larger almost toothy smile for the commander's benefit. “See?” he shrugged off Gemma's disbelieving look. “Look, he's not a slave. He can't go anywhere yet, but we have the A.I. bill of rights and treaties for a reason,” he explained patiently. “Look them up. They know them.”

  “Yes sir. It is encoded into my matrix. I will need some cycles to fully study it and understand it, including the notes. I am looking forward to it,” Dutch stated.

  “But what about Tesla and …”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about there,” Bailey said, wrinkling his nose. “Care to elaborate?” he asked, eyeing her.

  She shrugged. “Never mind,” she muttered as she returned to her work.

  Bailey caught her occasional sidelong look at him but he did his best to ignore it.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  "Another?" Light Touch asked tiredly.

  "We've ID'ed all tha
t we can, ma'am," the SBA stated. "You have the ones we haven't ID'ed."

  "I don't know why we're bothering; they are all dead."

  "I don't know ma'am, they don't pay me to ask those sort of questions … or answer them," the Neoorangutan stated as he hefted a floating body off the gurney and onto the exam table.

  The Satyre medic grimaced as she unzipped the body bag open. "Cute. Let's see what we have …" a familiar bird-like form appeared as she pulled the edges of the bag back. "Ah! A Malakian! Excellent! Okay, so there are useful purposes to this after all. We'll need to get some tissue samples."

  "I'll get the collection kit," the SBA said with a nod.

  "That's six different species for me," the doctor said happily. I'm one up on Doctor Fa'rook I believe."

  "Yes, ma'am," the Neoorangutan said as he pulled another tissue sample kit out of storage. He didn't like how she had to drill in and extract bone marrow and deep tissue, but he understood the need to do so. They had to extract whatever cells that might be in good condition that they could. There were all sorts of problems, the cold and thawing probably did some nasty things to cells, ice crystals as well, and then there was radiation … but he was an SBA. An order was an order.

  "I think we're going to win this bet," the Satyre said as her hands began to work as if on their own accord. "And Doctor Thornby will be happy. Her Resurrection Project will have fresh material to use to bring back these species," she said. She'd heard about the project and had heard that some Flea Legger and Leaf Bug geneticists were eager to participate. The idea of bringing back species from extinction was very appealing.

  She wasn't certain of the two species filling the role of the Ynari, but she knew every species had to have some sort of niche.

  "Pity no one has found any water dwellers. It'd be a real feather in my cap to find a Ssilli," she said as she worked. "I'd love to see that fuzzbutt's expression when I told him I had one here. Though it wouldn't fit on this exam table of course," she said, stopping to look at the 3-meter-long table.

 

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