Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (114 page)

“You
admire him,” Fu accused her.

“I
do,” she said simply. “I think it is time for us to rethink our position on
this.”

Yan
Fu frowned. “He is a soldier. They cannot be trusted. He will seize power if he
can.”

“And
yet he hasn't,” she said with a smile.

“He...”

“I'll
remind you that my father was a military man. A general in his time. My little
brother was killed by pirates. What the admiral said about them is true. You
can't fight them if they are here among us.”

He
stared at her, shocked to the core to hear her say that. To doubt him, to not
back him. She smiled again, this time tenderly. “You are my love but you blind
yourself with arrogance. We need people like him to keep us safe. To do what we
cannot. Draco should have taught you that. It is easy to feel superior. Far
harder to truly
be
superior.”

He
was still staring at her. She looked away for a moment, looking into the camera
as Irons entered his quarters. Of course the cameras in his quarters were now
blocked. “He is a good honorable man. A man who chose to put himself in between
those like us and the barbarians. We owe him for that. Our respect. Our support
so he can do his job as best he can.”

“You...
you have never spoken this way before,” Fu said. He was lost now, unsure of
what to do. For the first time in his long life his usually submissive wife had
an opinion that differed with his own. That shook his worldview.

“You
were never ready to listen. You still aren't sure are you?” she asked sadly.
She noted the admiral had exited his quarters in record time, dressed in his
usual coveralls and moving with speed and grim purpose. She was fairly certain
of his destination.

“To
listen?”

“To
listen with your head as much as your heart. Think about it,” she said gently
and left him. He stared around their virtual quarters, suddenly alone and
adrift with only his thoughts. It was not comforting to him. Not at all.

Irons
grimaced as he worked on the reactor. He really wanted to rebuild the little
ship's EPS conduits, they needed an overhaul. Hell, he'd rather do a keel up
overhaul if he could. His dinky little replicator in the launch wasn't up to
this though. At least whatever he did replace was milspec when he was through
with it. Of course it slowed him down to have to pull the part, transport it to
the replicator, remake it, then transport it back and install it. "Admiral
a word if you're not too busy," Sprite said interrupting his musing.

"Just
a minute," he said, watching the weld form. Nanites were fusing the two
metal parts together in a seamless bond. He mentally handed the job off to
Proteus and then turned his attention to Sprite on his HUD. "What
now?" he asked.

"The
council has booked more parts for replicators and power plants since
our
leaving has hit the grapevine recently. They need you jacked in to do them.
They want you there now."

Apparently
his leaving had hit the grapevine yesterday. Warner must have dropped it on his
end. He wondered why. Maybe the cyber was hoping to get the council to
reconsider? To think about what his leaving would cost them? If so it wasn't
working. Or at least not in the way Taylor had hoped.

"Oh
they do do they? Well, tell them I'm busy, I've got a ship to patch up and I
don't have the time to make spare parts." He paused for a minute. “Nor the
inclination,” he added with a growl.

"Okay
now that is petulant," she said after a moment as he scrolled through his
to do list. It was a long one.

He
scowled, nor really interested in hearing any flack. "So sue me. They
aren't paying me so they can damn well piss up a rope. I wear a uniform but I
am
not
a flunky and I am seriously tired of being treated like one. Like
a slave or a servant. I am not responsible to them. We've got a lot to do and I
want it done as soon as possible. And at this rate it's going to take a long
time," he sighed. He was pretty sure all the interruptions were calculated
to keep him from leaving. "I want to be out of here as soon as
practicable," he snarled. There he had said it; he'd made up his mind.

They
had denied him the docking cradle early on when he had started working on
Phoenix so he was docked to one of the newly restored airlocks on the docking
ring. Newly restored because he had taken the time to repair the passage to it
and the airlock itself on his own time. There had been some protest over that
but he'd stamped on it or ignored it. He'd given them a simple choice; if he
had to he would undock Phoenix and do the repairs on her away from the station.
Then they wouldn't have access to him, his wealth of knowledge, or his key
codes at all.

"Admiral..."
Sprite paused and then sighed. "Let's say something happens to you when
we're away. They will need parts to maintain the equipment they have. Parts
that will keep them functional for years to come."

He
scowled. "Their problem they told me remember? I was told to butt out. No
access to the replicators. That cuts both ways."

He'd
been pissed at that. There was no need of cutting him off completely like that.
None at all. He'd helped these people and that was the thanks he got? Things
had really soured after that little party. He'd kick himself over it but he
wouldn't change a thing he had said or done.

The
Warner's had been apologetic about it. It was a directive from the government
and held up by the station council. Fu had tried to explain it off by saying
that the replicators were all booked. Since Sprite could access the schedule
just as easily as he could that hadn't washed. Fu hadn't liked it when she had
pointed that out to him.

Of
course after that they had started to further restrict Sprite's access to the
net. That had pissed
her
off. She'd fumed for a few hours before someone
had realized she wasn't repairing the computer anymore. Then they had lightened
up on the restrictions. She'd taken her time getting back to it.

"Admiral,"
she sighed in exasperation. "Be the adult here. So turn it around. We need
parts for Phoenix correct? Not just your to do list but your wish list right?
All the things you want Phoenix to be. To have and be able to use. So? We tell them
they want access you get equal opportunity access to make parts for the ship.
Split the trays so they get half you get half. That way they can't play games
with you."

"Quid
pro quo? I'm not sure they'll go for it Sprite, there is no way for them to cheat.
Unless of course they seize the parts. Or charge me for them. Or..."

"I
get it," Sprite said further exasperated. She shook her virtual head. He
was really being cynical and hard headed over this. Bitter. She honestly
couldn't blame him.

“Admiral,
we'll work it out. Iron clad contract. Let me handle the details. Just make a
list of what you really need or want, what you think they are worth and we'll
get it done. Think about a bigger replicator in Phoenix. That second reactor
you were muttering about. You've been muttering about the little class one for
a week now sir."

"True,"
he growled. The weld was finished so he let his hand fall and stood. "Go
ahead and get the ball rolling. See where it leads. Don't commit me to anything
without my final approval though."

"Thank
you admiral. All I ask is to keep an open mind," Sprite said.

"What
you're really hoping for is a sudden last minute change of heart on one side or
the other," Proteus said in an aside to her. "Or the admiral making
parts for the Navy projects. That way he'll remain here until they wise
up."

"True,"
she answered.

“The
odds of this happening?” Proteus asked.

“One
in a billion,” Sprite sighed.

Randall
has a mixed reaction when he heard about the swap. "Only parts for his
ship, nothing for his weapons or shipyard plan," he growled. He toyed with
a stylus and stared blackly at a holo portrait. He hadn't been happy about
Iron's plan to leave when he had heard about it. He'd been amused, his staff
had made a lot of hay out of his plan to leave, but he had thought it had been
a threat. Honestly, he had thought it as some sort of hobby, that the old fart
was sulking. Now he wasn't so sure. He might actually pull it off. He might be
that pig headed enough to actually pull out of the system.

He'd
checked after the party. Everything Irons had said about himself had been
completely true. That and more, much more. Irons was a key, as a fleet
engineering admiral he was a key to the cornucopia that the replicators
represented.

He
was also a key to any military hardware they found. He could unlock
anything
he could access... and he could make AI. Lots of AI if needed. He was a
treasure, one he Jeff Randall had finally realized was important.

His
wife shook her head and set her wine glass down. She came over and rubbed his
shoulders.

"Jeff,"
his wife sighed. "You and I both know you're a shoe in for the
governorship now. We've been working toward that goal since you became mayor of
Doonburg. Now think. Think about the big picture."

"I
am," he said not looking up. Sandra was a great wife, a great XO and she
shared his interests but she didn't desire power for herself. Something about
her he also loved.

She
shook her head smiling slightly at how obtuse he was. "No, you're thinking
about kissing babies and tossing cookies to the masses, who you can win over
for the next election, not to what Irons has been trying to tell you.
Manufacturing. Economics. Jobs for the people. Defenses to keep them safe. The
big picture honey."

That
stung a little. Irons had been right damn him, and he'd quietly taken a lot of
what Irons had said and put them into his master plan. His staff was hard at
work, researching the basics that Irons had casually thrown out to the room at
large. He hadn't realized that Irons was an expert, that he could do these
sorts of things. He'd underestimated the man, underestimated him badly. That
wasn't something he liked to do.

"I...
He's serious about leaving isn't he?" he finally demanded looking up.

His
wife rubbed his shoulders gently but firmly. "As a mink in a chicken coup
lovey. You've pissed the man off thoroughly. Time to bury the hatchet. Get him
on your side and stop dividing the people."

He
shook his head firmly. The election was too close right now to do something
like that. If he made any reconciliation moves toward Irons his opponents would
pounce. It would get ugly; his opponents would say he caved. "Later. Right
now I need opposition to fight against to make my point with the voters. To get
our own people to rally behind me. After the election we can kiss and make up.
I'll let him make his war toys." He made a brushing motion.

Just
as soon as he was elected he planned to get implants. Then Irons would have to
transfer some of the key codes to Randall. After that he'd have to reconsider
their relationship he thought.

"
After
the election will be to late Jeff," she sighed shaking her head as her
hands stopped. "You'll of poisoned the well."

Jeff
frowned ferociously. "I don't believe that. Irons is a practical man,
he'll see the light. He needs us. He knows we need him. He's not that
shortsighted." He shook his head and scowled. Irons was an experienced
man, he knew the way the game was played, he'd come out and admitted it to
everyone... so why was he still leaving?

She
looked down at him and hugged him from behind. "Does he? the moment he got
that station turned around we booted him out of office. That's real nice of us
now isn't it?" she asked. she rubbed his shoulders once more. “You even
had him cut off from all station controls and the use of the replicators.”

He
tossed the tablet in front of him away then flicked the stylus across the desk.
He'd picked the thing up from the station to show his people what was in store
for them but now he realized it was a toy. It took time to learn and it gave
him frequent eye strain. The stylus rolled off onto the floor. He rubbed his
temples.

"Besides,
he won’t be here for elections. I heard his ship is about ready to go,"
she said, dropping another bomb in his lap. Or at least his ear.

"No,"
he said firmly, shaking his head and opening his eyes. “No, not possible. I
won't allow it.”

"Yes,"
she shook her head, digging into his shoulders. "Yes it is possible. You
forget the man and what he's capable of doing. We gave him the tools to meet
his self imposed deadline. He'll have what he needs by next week or sooner.
Charlie estimates it should take him a week to install it all. But Irons is a
miracle worker so I'm betting Charlie's off by a day or two." Charlie was
their industrial expert. He was a shoe in for the industrial cabinet seat and
knew it. Fortunately Charlie was good at his job.

He
looked at her over his shoulder, scowling now. "He can't leave. We need
him here. We need..." he looked at her stubbornly. She rolled her eyes.

"You're
wasting that on the wrong person honey. Listen to yourself.
We
need. Not
what
he
needs. Not what the
people
need. Not what
civilization
needs? He's as good as gone."