Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (2 page)

BOOK: Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)
5.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

He'd
been forced to go public with his AI in Pyrax. He was uncertain about keeping
them public here. Technically they were classified. He'd have to see where
things went and decide in the future.

The
bay doors began to cycle closed, and he turned to the post flight check chores,
trying to ignore the struggling doors in his peripheral vision. He could see a
gear that had broken teeth on it so it was skipping. He was surprised it hadn't
knocked the door off the tract and wedged it open. He called the bridge and
informed them that he had landed and finished post ops as the doors sealed and
the chamber filled with atmosphere once more. He let out a breath he hadn't
realized he had been holding and then turned to his gear.

 

“This
better be legit or we're in deep shit,” Quinna O'Mallory commented, watching
the feed. “Nice piloting. I'm sorry to have to tear the guy's bird up.”

“I
thought we weren't going to do that?” Barry asked sounding surprised and a little
dismayed. She looked at him and grimaced. Barry was a bit squeamish about
shuttles. She had to be practical though, the good of the many outweighed the
good of the one after all.

“No,
not even... ah,” she nodded, watching the man unload a pair of duffels and a
floating cargo pallet filled with gear. So, he was on the level. From the looks
of things that cargo floater was in good shape too. That would be a nice bonus.

She
tried to think of what the trade was. After a moment she gave up. Something
about three reactor emitters, some other parts for the reactor, one injector
and he got transport to the star system of his choice. She shrugged. Well he'd
get the transport. If he minded his P's and Q's. If he protested they would
probably end up spacing his ass. Pity, the man looked solid and not afraid of
getting his hands dirty. She wondered where he had gotten his hands on all the
parts.

“That's
a military uniform!” Barry said pointing to the man. He recognized the gray
coveralls under the military jacket. The cut was distinctive, not the normally
shapeless cut of a civilian outfit. Military issue was highly sought after,
because it was extremely durable and protected the user from all sorts of bad
things. His was also well taken care of, possibly something someone had found
recently. It didn't look like a hand me down or something someone pulled off a
corpse.

“Yeah,
so?” O'Mallory replied absently. She watched in annoyance as the shuttle's
hatch closed behind the man on its own. That was irritating. Barry was up to
the challenge though; it wasn't like they hadn't done this before after all.

 

Getting
his bag, trade goods, and toolkit, Irons exited the craft and used his implants
to lock it down. It's not that he doesn't trust the crew, it's just it was a
military craft and they were civilians. Also, well, yes he didn't trust them.
He had to be honest with himself. After the repeated attempts on his life on
Destiny he was a bit wary of new faces.  It would take him a bit of time before
he opened up again.

“Ready?”
Sprite asked, clearly amused.

“Am
I ship shape?” he asked teasing her. One of her functions was as his keeper,
his steward. She was supposed to make sure he always looked his best, not an
easy task since he frequently ended up with all sorts of chemicals all over his
uniform.

“Sure
you don't want to wear your formal uniform Admiral? There's nothing like making
a positive first impression.”

His
eyes narrowed. He knew she knew that he knew she was messing with him. He hated
formal wear. Hated it sometimes with a passion. “What? By looking like an
overdressed peacock?” he asked wrinkling his nose. “Pass Sprite. Undress day
uniform is fine,” he growled, not rising to the bait. He tugged on the hem of
his jacket and did a quick look down to make sure he didn't have any stains or
wrinkles. He was fairly certain that the uniform would have new ones before
long.

Checking
his uniform was habit of course, habit from a lifetime of training. His milspec
uniform could be cleaned by his nanites; he normally preferred to launder them
however. Old habits die hard for old sailors.

“I
think we're ready. I detect a waiting party outside the bay lock Admiral.”

“Best
not to keep them waiting much longer then,” he said with a nod.

He
spun in place, idly checking the gravity, atmosphere, and contents of the bay,
while looking for the exit. Sprite highlighted the exit for him. He nodded.

As
he went to leave he casually inspected the bay contents, letting Proteus
catalog it. Sprite sounded on her best behavior. She wasn't too chipper though,
which meant the ship didn't have a WIFI node for her to access. He'd have to
remedy that when they got to his quarters.

He
strolled over and cycled the door open. As he left the bay he hide his cough at
the smell of ozone and unwashed bodies that wafted into his face.

In
the corridor he was met by a grim faced exec and a pair of burly guards. The
engineer saluted, and formally asked permission to come aboard, startling the
exec who quickly recovered and nodded grudgingly.

“My
name is Fleet Admiral Irons.”

The
exec grunted but his eyes were on the pallet behind Irons. “Those look new. New
old stock? Did you find them somewhere?”

“No,
I had them built for you,” Irons said looking over his shoulder to the pallet
and ignoring the slight of the lack of introduction. “I believe this is the
agreed price for my ticket to the next system?” he asked.

The
exec nodded. His face however showed a lack of emotion. After a moment a
fleeting bleak look crossed his face when he finally looked at Irons. It was
replaced by a set jaw and grim determination. Irons wasn't sure what to make of
it.

The
engineer turned over the hovering platform carrying the three reactor grav
emitters as his ticket trade goods to one of the guards.

“I
can help your crew install them if you'd like,” Irons suggested.

The
exec shook his head. “We have all the help we can handle thank you,” he said
politely and then turned away.

Thanking
the engineer the exec then ordered the guard to get the parts to engineering
while he and the remaining guard escorted their guest to his quarters.

The
engineer noted the squalor, and sighed internally. The corridor was covered in
patches and grime, and many panels were open with wiring and plumbing hanging
out. The lighting was bad, and the exec picked his way along the malfunctioning
gravity plates.

The
engineer listened with half an ear as the exec told him the rules, not to go
into restricted areas without authorization, he was a passenger, and he tuned
most of it out, allowing his AI to record it for later digestion. Most of it
was standard freighter rules anyway.

After
going down two deck ladders they arrived at a dark dirty corridor and come to
rest at a graffiti covered door. The engineer hid his distaste with a sigh as
the exec palmed the door open. There was the sound of rustling and an indignant
squeal from within almost immediately.

“What
the hell?!?” The exec said poking his head into the darkened room. “Mary?
George? What the hell are you doing in here? You're supposed to be on shift
right now!” he snarled.

 Irons
looked away as the angry exec rousted out a pair of crew members who had turned
the room into their private love nest. They were both naked; they came out of
the room holding their clothes in front of themselves. The guard was amused. He
pursed his lips when he looked at the woman. She shot him an angry glare and he
looked away fast.

“Mary
what the hell's gotten into you? Life support doesn't manage itself you know!
You're mother will be furious with you! You are half his age!”

He
turned on George who was trying to put his pants on but stumbled. He reached
out to keep from falling and accidentally caught Mary who squeaked and moved
away. The guy teetered and grabbed the door jamb as he hopped on one foot.

“George
you're supposed to be married! What is Iana going to say when she hears of
this! You damn fool we don't need her upset right now, we've got the reactor to
sort out!” George moved enough out of the way for Irons to see past him and
into the room. He frowned, ignoring the scent of sex as he looked around. They
chose this rat hole for their illicit love nest?

Angrily
the exec dressed them down, and then motioned their guest in. He nodded to them
and entered, then turned to say something to the exec but the door closed as he
continued to dress down the crew members.

“Well!
That was rude!” Sprite said, sounding put out. He wasn't sure if she was put
out over the room or the sudden dismissal by the exec.

“Civilians.
Go figure,” he said with a shrug. He was getting used to traveling with
civilians now. He had been with Destiny for months. He shook his head looking
around, but not really paying attention as he tried to deal with his annoyance.

“Not
our problem anyway,” he said to Sprite. Shrugging the engineer looked around
again as he dropped the bag and set it down next to the bunk. He's careful to
avoid the mess of bodily fluids on the sheet and floor. Whatever they had been
doing they had been doing it for a while.

The
quarters were small, a single. Definitely a short single. Sparse and very
utilitarian. Just large enough to turn around in but small to the point of near
claustrophobia. He had seen closets on other freighters that were bigger. The
bunk was narrow and short; it would be interesting to fit in with his large
frame. He'd have to sleep diagonally.

There
were no electronics in the room, at least none powered up and functional.
Sighing he turned to the flickering lights. He noted the short and nudged the
bag to one side to begin work. It wasn't like he had anything better to do.
Besides it was for his creature comfort anyway.

 

After
two hours of repairing the lights, grav plates and refresher, he turned to the
bed. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and spilled fluids. Some of it was
dried, so they had probably been using this for a while.

He
pulled off the soiled sheets, dropped them into the refresher, and then sprayed
the bed with de-louser from his bag. He didn't need to really, his nanites
could have handled it, but he didn't like the idea of anything crawling on him
before the nanites took care of it. It would stick in his head and he'd never
get to sleep. Best to be sure.

He
pulled out a housekeeper robot from his bag and turned it on. The dinner plate
size robot ran through its start up sequence, scanned the room and clicked in
disapproval and then got down to work.

“I
am still not getting anywhere with a node Admiral,” Sprite reported. She
sounded a bit put out by it.

“In
a bit. Let me get this sorted out then I'll take a break and jack in for you,”
he said.

“Fine,”
she said sounding impatient and testy. He snorted. “I think the bot doesn't
like the room either,” she said after a moment.

“Yeah
think?” he asked as the robot made electronic grunting sounds as it stripped
years of filth off the walls. He was going to have to clean its internal bin
after every wall at this rate.

He
chuckled and turned to the built in dresser. He pulled the drawers out and
sprayed them with the de-louse spray, and then left them open to dry.

He
dumped the house keeper bot and redirected it to the bed. It clattered in
annoyance but went to work.

“Someone
had fun with this little guy's programming,” he commented shaking his head.

“Possibly,”
Sprite said not committing to an answer. He snorted. Typical. The bot didn't
really have emotions or a personality; it just used a simple program to appear
like it did. In a way it was gratifying to see someone else didn't approve of
the mess either.

The
refresher beeped, signaling the sheets were done, so he made the bed and then
cleaned himself up. He took a seat on the bed and lifted his feet as the bot
made passes along the floor.

The
robot finished the floor after dumping its storage bin an additional four times
then moved back to the graffiti and filth covered walls. Sonic beams break up
the grime, and it dripped down to the floor. Nodding, the engineer put his
clothes away and then decided to rack out. It was about time to let Sprite
loose on the net to see what she could see.

“Sprite
charge plug?” he asked looking around the room. A karat highlighted one near
the refresher. Great. He got up and pulled a cable from his bag. His nanites
could form a superconductive trail from his body to the plug; he just didn't
want to do that. He plugged one end of the cable in and then settled down into
the bed. “There,” he said jacking it into his arm.

“Finally,”
Sprite said sounding testy. “Firewall up; we've had over seventy attacks from
viruses the moment you jacked in. Seventy and climbing,” she cautioned.

“Go
to work. Stamp them out and get me intel. I'm going to take a nap,” he said.

“Sleeping
on the job admiral?”

BOOK: Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)
5.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Price of Malice by Archer Mayor
Toxic Bad Boy by April Brookshire
The Last Rebel: Survivor by William W. Johnstone
Murder Dancing by Lesley Cookman
The Shadow King by Killough-Walden, Heather
Crooked by Brian M. Wiprud