Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (111 page)

Two
days later he was pretty sure his predictions were about to come home to roost.
He'd turned down every demand of his time to focus on the Phoenix. Even his
friends on the station were getting annoyed with his preoccupation.

He'd
been called in for a council meeting in a rather curtly worded e-mail. Out of
pique he'd decided to attend. Perhaps the one eyed man could convince his blind
fellows to reason. When he had arrived he had found most of the Pyrax mayors on
board. Apparently they were doing a tour of the station at the time.

Randall
and both of his competitors for the Governorship were there of course. They had
to make sure that they were in the photo op and not slighted or excluded by the
competition. Some of the lesser mayors were not happy about the elbowing for
room to grandstand from each of the others.

The
meeting wasn't going well, he could tell right from the beginning. Everyone
came in with baggage, with their own viewpoint set in stone. No one was open to
compromise. He'd tried to be reasonable as he laid out his arguments once more.

"Admiral
we're working on the priorities of this system. You don't seem to be on board
with that," Mayor Randall finally said.

"Really?
I object to that statement. I believe we both have the best interests of the
people at heart, but we have different priorities," Irons said. “I was
willing to bend and compromise mine. You however aren't.”

“Oh?”

“I
had planned ten percent...”

“Ten?
That's it? Ten lousy percent??” A mayor scoffed.

The
admiral spread his hands. “It's a start.”

“And
the rest goes to what?”

“Repairing
the station, creating and maintaining infrastructure to support it, and
building a naval presence to defend the station, the star system and
surrounding space,” the admiral replied.

"Building
warships?" Mayor Randall said with narrowed eyes.

The
admiral shook his head. "Not right off mister mayor. I've actually put
priority on rebuilding the station and it's supporting exterior infrastructure
first. After that expanding resource production to meet demand, and then
building the tools to build ships."

"Such
as the dry dock for a shipyard you had built?" Another mayor asked. Irons
felt his jaw tighten and tried to fight the urge to glare. "You're
planning on expanding it perhaps? To build warships?" she added smiling
sweetly as the barb seemingly struck home.

All
three competitors were in on barbing him, in goading him. He wished he wasn't
so hands off, wished he didn't have an imperative to institute a democracy.
Wished that he had declared martial law and had the resources to back it up.
But no, he didn't and even if he had he wouldn't. If he had held onto the
governorship of Pyrax he would have... but then he didn't have a fleet presence
in the system to back him up this time did he? He thought with a pang. No, if
he had tried it here he would have been laughed out of the system. The old
military adage to never give an order that you know won’t be obeyed played
through his head as he set his jaw and prepped for an uncomfortable session.
Let the matadors sink their peccadilloes where they could.

"No
to fulfill the obligations and initial investment to Kiev 221, the freighter
Lieandra, and Cassidy actually," Irons said keeping a lid on his temper.
"In exchange for crew, materials, support, and fuel they each get a
rebuild. That was their contract. We've finished with Kiev and they have left
the system. The Lieandra has as well. The Cassidy undertook a similar contract
and has fulfilled a part of their end of the bargain. The work on the Cassidy
should be finished by tomorrow."

Cassidy
hadn't put in as much work as the other two ships so wasn't getting as much as
they had. But what they were getting they were pathetically eager to have. New
sensors, a new hyperdrive, repaired and rebuilt fusion reactor and a partially
restored shield.

"Oh."

It
wasn't like they didn't know that. The contract lawyers in the room had gone
over the contract, questioning every point and every comma. Fortunately Sprite
had rammed it through to them to get it out of their systems fast or they would
still be floating on the edge of the heliopause twiddling their thumbs.

Mayor
Randall frowned. “You've diverted enough resources to those projects as it is.
They will be leaving the system and will have no benefit to Antigua.”

“First
off the admiral wasn't the only person to authorize this project, the station
council did. It's something you're going to have to deal with and move on.”
Warner said, sounding annoyed. The Berkhearts nodded.

“It
was for the benefit of everyone,” another station council member said.

“They
are no longer drawing resources from this station,” Ron Steward volunteered.

“Then
why are they still in dock?” Kennet demanded.

“Placing
and fitting components,” Irons said. “Testing and making sure everything works.
They should be out of the dock by oh six hundred tomorrow.” He wondered how
anyone on the station council couldn't keep abreast of such simple matters. It
wasn't like they currently had dozens or hundreds of ships in dock at the
moment.

"But
you're going to build a warship afterward?" Randall pressed on.

The
admiral frowned. "Possibly, but not for some time. We have other ships
that are a priority we can repair. We don't have the infrastructure to support
a yard right now. I'd like to have at least a corvette or frigate on station as
soon as possible. If not home built than we can contact Pyrax and I can order
one from there."

"Really?"
another voice asked. He nodded.

"So
why..." Randall held up a hand interrupting the others. "I don't see
the need for this admiral; it's a monumental waste of materials and people.
Materials we desperately need elsewhere and skilled people we can best put to
use in other capacities."

“Desperate?
They thought making toys was a desperate endeavor?” Sprite demanded only to
him. He ignored her rant.

He
shook his head. "I disagree mister mayor, protecting the system is of
vital
importance. You do not
desperately
need air cars for every person on the
planet. You do not
desperately
need new appliances for every home. You
do need to update your hospitals and medics, I freely admit that point. Making
certain that the pirates don't come and take over is of
more
immediate
concern than the other things I should imagine."

The
mayors shot an amused glance between themselves. Randall smirked as he returned
his attention to Irons. "We don't need protection. Our defensive
grid..."

"Protects
the
planet
," Taylor Warner growled. "
Not
the station.
Or anything not in orbit of the planet. In fact your defenses actually protect
less than a third of your planet." Some of the station council nodded or
looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"Which
we will rectify," Randall said smoothly, glancing at the mayors of cities
and towns not covered. “In time.”

“It
is a priority,” a mayor said sounding nettled. Apparently he was the mayor of a
town not covered by the defensive grid.

Irons
was pretty sure that was how Randall was getting their support now. However
they didn't know all the facts. Time to rectify that little oversight.
"Eventually. With
my
help," Irons said sitting back. Randall's
eyes narrowed as he caught that qualifier.

"Are
you blackmailing us Irons?" he asked as his fellows murmured. They stopped
and looked at the two in surprise. A few were looking at Irons warily.

The
admiral frowned. That wasn't what he meant. "Not at all. But I
am
pointing out that to make weapons you need
my
access keys. You also need
my access keys to make reactors and parts for them for your towns and cities, as
well as most of the other major items on your lists."

"So
you are blackmailing us!" Randall said, nostrils flaring and smiling a
little in triumph. He glanced at his fellow mayors. Most were now grimly
glaring at the admiral.

Irons
felt like grinding his teeth together but restrained the urge. What he'd really
like to do wasn't legal anyway. Dropping an annoying politician in a black hole
wasn't legal right? Satisfying, but not right. Or at least not legal. Besides,
looking back he'd definitely walked into the trap. He should have seen it, but
his pride had blinded him again. Damn.

He
kept from grinding his teeth together with sheer iron will. He wasn't about to
let them see him off balance. "No I am pointing out a reality you fail to
grasp. It isn't my decision to hold the keys, it's built into me." He
tapped his forehead. "In me, an engineering fleet admiral. Deal with
it."

"So
you're saying..."

"I'm
not saying anything against your priorities. I am actually the one that is
urging you to work on defenses remember? I am however politely pointing out to
you that you just told me you want me to make weapons for you."

"Um..."

"Weapons
that will protect your enclaves, towns, and cities. But
not
the
factories and people that make parts for them to function and continue to
function in the future. You are saying that their lives aren't important in
your great scheme." Gwen and a few of the other stationers exchanged
looks. From the admiral’s perspective they were suddenly not happy about that
idea. Good he thought.

"Uh..."
Randall raised a hand to interrupt but Irons plowed on.

“Weapons
I cannot make for civilians, they have to be made for military personnel
only
.
It's also part of my...” he smiled and tapped his temple again. “Programming. I
can't authorize civilians to have weapons of mass destruction. It's against the
law. I can't just hand them over to you.”

“Wait,
wait,” a mayor interrupted before Randall could retort. “The station isn't
protected?” he asked looking first at the admiral and then to the council. The
Berkhearts shook their heads no.

"So
we put them on the station right?" a voice in the back said. "It's no
big deal..."

"A
planetary class defense instillation on an industrial station of this
size?" Taylor Warner asked laughing. "Her power grid wouldn't handle
it. She'd be torn apart the first time you tried to fire one of those
monsters."

"Besides,
if you just focused on the planet any pirate could pick off your defenses from
outside your engagement range," Sprite said entering the conversation
again. "All they have to do is drop rocks from far enough out from you. If
they came in fast enough on the right vector you'd never see them coming until
it was too late. They could do the same with the station."

"Says
you," Randall said dismissively.

"Say's
me," Irons growled thumping his chest with an index finger. "Say's
nearly a century of military training and experience. Say's nearly a century of
experience in combat. I'm the
expert
in that subject remember? I've seen
it happen. Hell, I've done it myself. I've built systems up from
nothing
and I've torn them apart. Torn the enemy apart down to bedrock."

The
mayors were taken aback by the intensity of that admission. "You're
focused on short sighted goals. Goals to keep your constituents happy. I am
trying to protect your infrastructure and your constituents.
That
is my
job. I am also looking after the long view. Let's take your current plan
here," he said waving a hand. A holo appeared before him. "Let's see,
mayor Randall here promised a new air car and a tablet pc, new appliances,
power, along with free medical care for everyone by the end of the year
correct?"

"I
don't see the problem the factory station can churn them out quickly..."
Randall said smoothly.

"The
problem is every other mayor or politician has now also made the same promise.
Some have upped the ante a bit. So now instead of a few thousand we've got an
order for over one hundred thousand. That number is expected to double by the
end of the day. By the end of the month it will probably be around fifty
million."

"Again
I don't see the problem!"

The
admiral frowned. "I do. Did you stop to think about how you're going to
pay
for this? Where are you going to get the material to make these things?
Shipping to and from the station? Fuel for the fusion reactors to power the
industrial plants? Chemicals? Did you stop to think of any of that?”

He
could see that Randall and the others hadn't. He snorted softly. “I know,
that's for someone else to work out the details. Sure, fine. But how about
this. How about that you could instead have the factory make the parts for an
air car factory?" Irons demanded, standing and leaning forward intently
focused on the audience, trying to drill his ideas into them by sheer force of
will. "Think about it. You could
employ
your people in the making
of these air cars and tablet computers instead of just tossing them the things
like candy!"