Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (117 page)

“Mine
as well apparently,” Sprite said sounding disgusted.

“Welcome
to the dark side commander. We've been expecting you,” he joked.

“Cute,”
she replied dryly.

Irons
nodded politely to the holo of the ruling council members. "Yes gentlemen?
Ladies?" he said politely, determined to keep his temper in check. They'd
called him here to this council room and he was pretty sure what it was about.
He was curious how it would play out though. Yan Fu sat, a presence of calm in
the storm of faces around the room. Oddly he didn't pick up an echo of that
same calm from Fu's wife. She looked sad and torn.

She
was dressed in a beautiful red kimono, one trimmed in gold lace with lung chi
dragons embroidered onto its virtual surface. He wondered why she threw that
much detail into that. Then he realized it was her virtual face, her virtual
appearance so attention to detail was vital to her, a woman. She was a quiet
woman, one he wished he could have known a little better.

He'd
gotten his materials to the yacht just before a second stop order had come down
through the ranks. For some reason the corridors leading to his docking port
were closed due to maintenance. Fortunately they had miss-timed it. Or possibly
it had been one of the Warners or a supporter who had delayed the order until
he was in the corridor in question.

He
wasn't sure what or who had caused the delay but he was grateful. Things had so
far gone just about as he'd expected. He was a little disappointed that they
had.

He'd
just finished breakfast when he'd gotten the call. He'd stayed docked, mainly
because he wanted to finish installing and testing the equipment before he
left. He didn't want anything happening in deep space. It would be just his
luck if something went wrong. Then again they could have slipped something
in... No, he was getting a bit paranoid. Still, it would be mighty inconvenient
if oh say some part scrammed his reactor now wouldn't it?

Sprite
had firewalled the ship's systems early on. There had been a few pings, but
nothing serious. When he had returned to the ship last night he had set up a
cut out. Anyone who attempted to access the ship through the data links would
end up in a dead end system. Of course their entry would be logged as an
unlawful intrusion.

He'd
been wary of a trap going to the council but was pretty sure the situation
hadn't elevated to the use of force yet, they were pacifists after all. Then
again, they were hypocrites. Still, to be cautious they were doing this through
the communications system and his implants. He really didn't want things to go
where they would all regret.

"Admiral,
we'd... we'd like you to remain," The portly programming councilor said
beginning the discussion.

"I've
made up my mind," Irons said, resting his hands in his lap. The programmer
was of the new guard, a political appointee recently added to the rank of
cybers. He'd proven totally clueless about actually programming the first day
he'd been a cyber. That had pretty much told everyone why he had really become
a cyber.

"Perhaps
a negotiation is in order?" the Veraxin cargo and logistics master
chittered. "A price for your cooperation?"

Irons
was fairly certain the Veraxin hadn't been happy about the closure to the cargo
corridors. That had probably thrown his carefully arranged schedules into
chaos. Running the logistics of a station, especially a factory station was a
careful ballet of material and people. If any one thing was delayed it cascaded
downhill fast, throwing everything out of wack and sending critical parts of
the station into teeth gnashing idle. If things piled up they also caused
problems, taking up space and blocking traffic. Factory execs hated that.
"I'm not interested in credits," Irons said dismissively.

"Perhaps
another method?" the cargo master asked desperately.

"We
were just doing that remember?" Warner said shaking his head. He leaned
forward to see past the portly programmer. "And look how well that worked
out. As soon as you realized what you were doing you shut it down. Despite
getting a
thirty
to
one
exchange rate in
our
favor."

"I?
I did no such thing! The order came from above!" The Veraxin chittered in
dismay. His holo image glanced at Irons, obviously unhappy about that slip
getting out. His upper arms showed first level shame and discomfort. He clearly
wasn't happy about being put in this position. "I had nothing to do with
it. I never wanted it to end!"

"Perhaps
we can continue the previous contract admiral?" a councilor asked. That
request sounded resigned, like the councilor already knew his answer.

"I
don't really see the need. I have most of what I need and I can make what I'm
missing when I need to do so," Irons said, lips twisting in a slightly
cynical smile.

"What
about your naval projects? Aren't you still interested in doing them?"
another asked desperately.

"What
about them?" he asked, cocking his head politely as an eyebrow was raised.
The other councilors turned to the woman.

She
spread her hands in entry. "Perhaps we can make an arrangement. We can
petition for you to build your projects in the future in exchange for your help
in rebuilding the station admiral."

"Tried
that remember?" Warner said in disgust. "You've reneged on that
agreement twice now. He's not likely to fall for promises of the future.
Promises that will be renegotiated, drawn out, delayed or ignored like you've
been doing to him over and over for the past seven months. The admiral knows
all the tricks. He taught them to me a long time ago. He has no intention of
being used and abused anymore. Nor can I blame him. The admiral keeps his word.
He is an
honorable
man." His dig was straight at the Fu's. Both
looked tired but didn't rise to the bait.

"Then
what do you want?" The portly councilor said throwing his hands up.
"Not money, not parts, what?"

"Honestly?
A stop to the opposition to protecting this station is a good start," he
growled. They looked at each other. A few nodded, but a few kept a polite mask.
Yan Fu looked at his wife. Both had their hands in their laps. Fu's long snow
white beard twitched though. He was probably fighting the urge to stroke his
beard Irons thought.

"I
want one week of unrestricted use of the replicators.
All
of them.” The
admiral turned a cold look on all the councilors, meeting any eyes that would
meet his. More than one set dropped or looked away after a moment. Only the
Warners nodded his way when he met their eyes. “One
full
week, twenty
four standard hours a day, one standard seven day week. Full use of the
replicators and full access to all materials on hand or incoming during that
period. No charge for use and no interruption of power or computer support for
that time period. No accounting games or other shenanigans," he said
turning a glare on first Kennet and then Yan Fu.

"To
do what?" one asked.

"To
make weapons," a woman sighed in disgust.

"No,"
Warner said thoughtfully. He studied the admiral as he rubbed his virtual chin.
Irons looked at him with a grim but firmly set face. “I've known Fleet admiral
Irons long before you did and that's not how the man's mind works.” He shook
his head. "No I don't think so. Weapons wouldn't do us much good. Oh you
could make weapon satellites, but they could be picked off from a distance.
You're an engineering admiral at heart, you take the long view."

A
few of the others nodded to each other. That at least they could appreciate and
understand. They had seen what the admiral could do; they had seen how his mind
worked as they had worked together rebuilding the station.

"So
what would he make?" the Veraxin asked, looking from Warner to the others.
After they all shrugged they looked at him.

He
cleared his throat and set his shoulders but Warner snapped his fingers. Virtual
eyes cut to him. "I got it! You'd make power plants and replicators! The
infrastructure you needed to
build
a naval annex!"

The
others blinked. "He could do that?" one asked.

The
Veraxin chittered, mid arms moving in signs of dismay. "It is
possible."

Warner
nodded. "With the replicators and a power supply you wouldn't need us. You
could then build the tools and materials you need."

"Correct,"
Irons said nodding. “Your hands would then be clean. I could then set up
recruiting stations on the planet to take in those who are interested in
defending their home system.”

"And
you wouldn't need the docking slips and dry dock? What about them?" the
Veraxin asked, four eyes swiveling to view him intently.

Irons
indicated the council with his hands. "Yes I built them, but I did so as
part of the council to fulfill a set of contracts. Contracts with the Kiev 221,
Lieandra, and the Cassidy. Therefore they belong to the station. With the
replicators I could make more. Or an entire yard given time, fuel, materials, and
manpower."

Averies
for once was more than just a set of hands and eyes. He had a form, albeit an
outline. He blinked at the admiral as the others looked at each other.
"That is a... that is an interesting proposal admiral."

"Highly
ambitious," Mrs. Fu murmured in approval. She glanced at her mate. He
nodded but remained silent.

"I'm
not sure I like the idea of setting up competition," the Veraxin mused.
Kennet nodded in agreement to that statement.

"Or
having him independent," the portly councilor said. He looked stricken as
Irons eyes narrowed. "Um... perhaps we should ah..."

"Discuss
this amongst yourselves and then contact me later. I get it," Irons said.
He gave a polite nod. "You have twenty four standard hours to decide. I am
pretty sure what your answer will be anyway but I will allow that time
limit
.
Good day then," he said. He flicked a thought through the link to shut it
down.

"They'll
never go for it. A week? that would disrupt their build schedules all to hell.
It would be total chaos. And the political fallout would be enormous,"
Sprite said.

Irons
knew that. He knew it was a long shot but he had to try. If they ate some crow
so much the better. It wouldn't be good for him in the short term,
relationships would be at best strained, but it would allow him to get the ball
rolling here. He'd have a hell of a lot less to work with than what he had
started with in Pyrax, but then again he'd started with virtually nothing there
before picking up Firefly to begin with. "Not to mention turning me into a
bad guy," Irons replied in agreement. “More of a bad guy than they are
already making me out to be at any rate,” he mused.  "Pissing people off
who would be bumped by the project, even if it was a temporary bump."

"True."

They
both sat there for a few minutes. Sprite was curious if he'd actually follow
through with the plan if they jumped in and agreed to it. She laid the odds at
eighty nine percent that they wouldn't. But if they did?

Irons
however was thinking about where he went wrong and why. In the end though he
decided that it didn't matter. He'd agonize over it during hyper. He tugged on
his right ear for a minute and then shrugged.

"I've
got more important things to worry about. Let's see if we can get this
navigational suite calibrated properly this time around," he said finally.
Getting the computer systems sorted out on this bird was a pain. Since he had
to do it anyway he had gone to his wish list and rebuilt from scratch to
milspec. Sprite had thrown her own wish list into the works so hardware and
software integration was lagging behind a great deal. It was time to get that
mess sorted out.

"Not
a chance," the portly councilor said shaking his head. He looked
regretful. Many on the council nodded in agreement. "To do that..."

"Perhaps
we should discuss this with the Antigua ruling council?" Margret one of
the reactor techs suggested pensively. She'd been nominated to join the cybers
by Randall of course. The others were pretty sure she was his eyes and ears in
their midst. Her and her fat friend Albert. Neither one of them had any clue
about how to do their real job, that had become abundantly clear right off.

"To
do so would add an unnecessary political voice that we don't need here,"
the portly councilor said, jowls turning red. He didn't like being marginalized
and Margret always was a follower and not a doer. He joined this for his own
plans for the future despite being appointed by Randall. "We know they
want him to remain, but this is too costly."

"Why?
It gets what he wants and it gets what we want. He'll be happy and busy, we'll
have a momentary disruption and then we won’t need to support him for projects
anymore," Warner said. "He'll be on hand if we have a problem. We can
replicate the contract as often as we need over time.” His eyes flicked to each
of them, trying to gauge their reaction to the idea. “I talked with Sprite. He
did essentially the same thing in Pyrax when Anvil became swamped with orders
and politics started to interfere with his construction rates."