Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (33 page)

BOOK: Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)
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The
head of the gardening department was a Gashg. The Gashg gardener wasn't amused
by all the changes. Rumors had spread about cutting back on greenhouse space,
adding to the garden staff's dilemma and distress. The head gardener had an
altercation with a repair crew after a misunderstanding. They had been sent out
to repair the water filtration plant and he didn't want any engineers anywhere
near
his
territory.

Irons
was near and caught part of the altercation with his enhanced hearing. “Aren't
you going to intervene?” Sprite asked as the shouting match became more and
more heated.

He
shook his head no as he continued to work on the plasma conduit. He slowed his
work though and watched ship's security arrive and try to diffuse the situation
without further incident. “They can do things on their own Sprite. After all,
they've been doing things on their own and making due long before we showed
up.”

“Glad
you agree,” the captain said in passing. Irons turned to see him there behind
him. He gave the admiral a long look and then went into the greenhouse to find
out what was going on.

“You
did that on purpose,” Sprite accused him. Irons shrugged but smiled a little.

“I
may have noticed he was there.” He shrugged and then turned away. “Or not.
Either way it works. Now, you said you've upgraded the antivirus and you were
working on better subroutines for the power rooms?” he asked.

“Yes.
I'm thinking of growing a couple of bots and running sims. Pick the pick of the
litter and clone it a few times. Custom job in other words.”

“Whatever
works. Keep the IT people in the loop. Work with them on it if possible
please,” he ordered.

“Aye
aye admiral. Have to give the fleshies some access I suppose.” She didn't sound
thrilled about that. She was still a bit put out over the IT department's
polite refusal of an AI, even a dumb AI. She was sure there was an undercurrent
of resentment over her kind and how fast she had cleaned up the system. How
fast she had cleaned out some of the crap they had turned a blind eye to.

“It's
their ship Sprite,” he sighed.

“True,”
she said sounding grudgingly amused.

“And
there are a lot more of them than us. If a person can do the job, teach them.”

“I'll
keep that in mind.”

“You
do that.”

“Admiral,
we've got what? Forty four days until Antiguan space? What are we going to do
there?”

“Ask
me in forty
three
days,” Irons replied, reaching in and twisting a
fitting and then pulling a cable forward to plug it in properly.

“Funny,”
Sprite replied annoyed. Irons snorted.

“You
asked for it,” Irons replied. “We have little to go on. Which reminds me, do
some digging on Antigua. Maybe talk someone up about the place? Or several
someone’s? Get some intel that's not in the net. Correlate the intel and give
me a brief later,” he said, pushing the plug in until he heard it click home.

“All
right, I can do that,” she said sounding miffed. He felt her presence withdraw.
Good, that would give her something to do other than get into trouble. At least
for a while anyway, he thought with amusement.

 

Later
that afternoon Sprite interjected her presence. He was sitting in the shuttle,
reading a tablet while replicating key coded parts for the EPS conduits.
“Admiral, I think we've had another incident,” Sprite said, sounding annoyed.

Irons
looked up from the replicator and frowned. “Incident?”

“Another
bot bit the dust,” Sprite said, sounding disgusted.

“Oh?”

A
holo appeared. The view was of the inside of an air return duct. It moved along
for a moment at a good pace, using its ultrasonic’s on the sides to clean the
gunk off. It had brushes on its underside and sides, whirling about cleaning
what the ultrasonic’s didn't knock off. It passed under a vertical shaft,
paused before it reoriented and then kept going. Suddenly the image jerked hard
to the left and right, fuzzed and then started to spin uncontrollably. After a
moment it ricocheted off the sides of the duct and then scrapped itself down
the bottom of the duct to stop. The image flickered and then went out. Irons
saw a glimpse of something but wasn't sure what it was.

“How'd
it happen?” he asked.

“It
was attacked from behind and above,” Sprite replied.

“Any
ideas how? In a duct I mean?” Irons wrinkled his nose. Tight quarters. It might
be a rat or some other critter. Hell it could be something small and predatory
that preyed on the rats... wait that sparked something he thought, suddenly
pensive. He wasn't sure he liked the thought though.

“The
vertical shaft,” Sprite pointed out. A holo cross section of the duct appeared.
A red object was at the top of the vertical shaft. It dropped down to impact
with the drone. The drone image flashed red. “According to the telemetry from
the bot something gummed up its lift fan. Something hard because the fan
destroyed itself and threw shards through the bot and around the duct.”

“Another
mess to clean up,” Irons sighed.

“Admiral,
this has to stop. I've dispatched another bot to check on this one but I'm...”

He
held up a restraining hand. “Don't. No need to send credits down the toilet. Go
back.”

“Go
back?”

“To
the last image. Or the last second or two. I thought I saw something. Filter
the image, separate the sensor feeds. Maybe the overlap filtered something
out.”

“Perhaps
you did,” Sprite replied. There was something to be said about organics and
their instincts. It was sometimes annoying to an AI when they played out over
straightforward logical analysis. The cross section dissolved to be replaced
with the last second of the bot's life. “Going frame by frame.”

He
watched as the sensor overlay separated itself into the separate layers. They
split into their own screens. Frame by frame they ticked away in sync. Suddenly
he saw what had caught his attention and lunged forward pointing. “There. Go
back one frame. Steady it and scan it.”

Sprite
went back a frame and then stopped. “What am I looking at?” she asked.

“Don't
you see it?” Irons asked. “I do. I know who's doing this now,” he said,
pointing to the visual image. She brought the image up to fill the screen.
“Enhance the left side. The corner junction.”

“Enhancing,”
Sprite zoomed in. The image pixilated and then smoothed out. When it did there
was an image of the straight line and a couple of fingers and the crown of a
head. Enough for Irons to recognize.

“Well
I'll be compiled into an accounting program,” Sprite said awed. “How did you
see that and I didn't?” she demanded.

“The
mind filters out what the eye sees but the mind doesn't need. Organics are good
for some things. We have hunches,” Irons said with a nod, eyes narrowed. “I bet
this little bugger is the culprit. Him and his friend up at the top of that
vertical shaft. He let the other know when to drop the bar.”

“Huh,”
Sprite said. “Why? Why would the elves do that?”

“Let's
find out,” Irons said getting up. He felt the cables retract.

“Admiral,
I think this is a matter for ship's security,” Sprite cautioned as he headed
for the hatch. He slowed and then stopped out in the bay.

“Damn
it you're right,” he said, sighing. He looked around.

“Patching
into the security system now. I have the officer of the watch. A female Terran
named Teela,” Sprite informed him.

“Yes?”
Another female voice said.

“This
is Admiral Irons. We've just had another bot incident. This time we've got a
suspect,” Irons said.

“Oh?”

“Uploading
the data now,” Sprite interjected. There was a long pause as the security
officer played it back.

“Circumstantial
at best admiral,” Teela finally said. “It could be a bystander or a witness.
But it is a lead however slim. I'm on my way to their quarters,” she said.

“Okay...”
Irons said.

“Care
to join me?” she asked, sounding annoyed. Irons cocked an eyebrow.

“If
I'm not interfering,” Irons replied diplomatically. He'd spent time and energy
building the bots. He wanted to know why they were being broken.

“By
all means. I'd like to keep the audience to a minimum though admiral,” Teela
said.

“Roger,”
Irons said with a nod, swinging into motion once more. “I'm on my way now.”

Teela
was waiting at the door to the elf's quarters when Irons rounded the corner.
She had another guard with her. The exec came pounding up at a trot. She nodded
politely to him as well. The woman was tall, about a hundred and sixty
centimeters with olive skin and reddish brown hair done up in a tight bun. She
had a white leotard on with a high stiff collar. It was trimmed in gold, with a
gold roman kilt. She had on red boots trimmed in fur. Her silver wrist
gauntlets were probably weapons he realized. One had a radio built in but he
picked up the tell tale signature of a laser in each cuff. She was every inch
the warrior Amazon. She'd fit right in with the ladies on Io 11 he thought.

“Let's
do this then,” she said, reaching down and turning the hatch wheel and then
stiff arming it open. Irons followed Warner in. The other guard stayed outside
the hatch.

He
looked around the chamber, getting his bearings. It was a good sized
compartment; the elves had dressed it like a forest. Cables dangled from the ceiling
and wall fixtures. The walls were painted like a forest. The ground was
littered with trash. There were small bags hanging all over the place.

Elves
of all ages and genders were staring at the tall human interlopers. Irons
cocked his head and bowed politely to the oldest one. He had a white mane
sticking up and running down his back. White mutton chops framed his face. A
stringy white goatee finished off his look of a Zen master. The striper looked
at Irons and seemed to bring himself up to a straight stand with difficulty.

“Is
there a problem?” The ancient elf asked. He stroked his goatee and looked at
the three Terrans. “What is the nature of this intrusion?” he asked.

While
he talked Irons heard some of the elves talking in their native tongue. Sprite
filtered it for content, and highlighted word strings. His eyes narrowed as she
caught one conversation about the bots. “Do you think the giants know we are
breaking their toys?” That was the evidence he needed.

“Why
are you breaking the robots?” Irons asked. Warner turned to look at him in
surprise. Teela did as well, rolling her eyes.

“And
just who says we are? You?” the elder asked.

“You're
people just did,” Irons replied, locking eyes with the oldster. “Sprite?”

Sprite
replayed the recorded message loud enough for the entire compartment to hear,
and then the translation for the other Terrans.

“We
also have a video of the last encounter,” Sprite said. “I want to know why you
are doing this. It doesn't make sense!”

“Doesn't
it?” The oldster said. “You wish to replace us with machines,” he said, picking
up a cane and using it as a crutch to move across a platform to better view
them. He rested a hand on the railing. His tail wrapped around his feet.

“No
we don't,” Teela denied, looking at Irons and then Warner. “At least I don't
think we do,” she said.

“No,
we don't,” Warner said shaking his head. “Not in a million years. We need every
hand. You know that. There are many things the robots
can't
do,” he
said.

“True,”
Irons said.

“That
is true,” the oldster said. His eye narrowed.

“And
we need to make sure they do what they can, and then someone else can come in
and finished the job. Someone to go where they can go and do the job and hit
the places they missed. Let the robots to the tedious work and then come in
behind them.”

“That
leaves little work for my people,” the oldster said.

“Why
would you say that?” Irons asked. Warner stepped to the side to allow the
oldster to see Irons. “I mean, there are a lot of chores with robots. Emptying
their baskets, cleaning them, charging them, repairing them...”

“Which
you humans tend to do.”

“Only
because you haven't applied for the job. It seems to me you can do it better
than we can,” Irons said.

“We?”
An elf scoffed, coming forward. She had a baby clinging to her back. The baby
stared at them, sucking on a thumb.

“Why
can't you? A long time ago your people did these things and much more. You are
spacers.” He indicated the compartment around them. “You are in space. You are
used to menial tasks but you have sharp minds, strong hearts, and can learn.
There is nothing this crew can't do if they put their minds to a problem and
work together. I've seen it. You've seen it.”

“But
this... the cleaning has been our task for generations! Ours and ours alone!”
Another elf said, coming forward.

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