Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (36 page)

“Two
or three now?” The captain asked, raising an eyebrow at the first mate.

“Well...
I was thinking... and this is only a thought mind you,” Warner held up a
cautionary hand. “What I was thinking was that we could ask the admiral to
replicate his replicator. Maybe more than one. Then we can make parts and
equipment that's not on the restricted list.”

“Restricted...”
the captain stared at him. “How?”

“We
can do that now,” O'Mallory said, picking up the thread and nodding. “We can
replicate food now. We don't need the admiral for that. He's shown us how to
make plastic and simple small objects with the food replicators as well. Even
replacement parts for them. He's shown the doctor how to make medical supplies
too,” she said.

“He
has?”

“Medical
supplies and tools. Even tissue and things. I understand Numiria is studying
the tech now. If it works out we can start waking some of the less injured
sleepers soon. Possibly in a week. Maybe sooner if she has enough confidence to
try.”

“Interesting,”
Warner said. The captain wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure about having additional
people in his ship using up resources.

“The
medical replicator is limited, I understand its low on nanites, but it's
functional. Slow but functional,” O'Mallory said.

“I
wonder if she can do anything about my parents?” Warner asked. Both the captain
and chief engineer looked at him. Slowly sympathy worked into both of their
features.

“No,
you don't need to get your hopes up,” the captain cautioned.

“Why
not?” O'Mallory asked, no demanded. She looked at Warner and nodded her chin to
him. “Give it a shot. Get the admiral involved. He uploaded a full medical
database. I bet his AI could get into their implants and see what's gone wrong.
If it's hardware we can fix it. If it's tissue, doc can give it a shot.”

“We'll
see,” the captain said.

“She's
cloning tissue now. I heard she's replicating fingers for a couple of people.
One of my engineers,” O'Mallory said.

“Really,”
Warner said nodding. “I'll have to congratulate her if it works out,” he
murmured diplomatically.

“Think
about it,” O'Mallory said. “But back to the drive, yes, we'll use more power.
Right now the reactor is at about sixty percent efficiency. If we have the raw
materials... and
time
,” she glared at the captain. “I... well; the
admiral and my crew can replicate a new core. Maybe even a back up fusion
reactor or parts. Spares,” she said.

“I'll
think about it,” the captain mused.

“Please
do. I understand we're getting to Antigua a couple of months ahead of schedule.
We can use that time to get a lot done captain. Who knows?” O'Mallory said,
hands up. “We could use one of the replicators to make stuff to trade with the
natives! I think Blur should look into it. I tried to tell him about the plastic
parts but he just rants on and on...” she sighed, shaking her head.

“I'll
have a talk with him,” Warner said.

“No,”
the captain said, adjusting the hem of his jacket and straightening. What they
had said made a lot of sense. And not all the asteroids would be used by the
ship. They could use some of it in trade. That would get Blur off his back. “
We
will have a talk. Or I should say,
I
will. I think this idea has
merit. We can do more than move raw material. The natives will pay more for
processed material, and even more for finished products.”

“There's
the spirit cap,” O'Mallory said with a nod and smile.

“Good
day chief, we'll talk again,” the captain said turning.

“The
proposal is in your inbox captain. The wild idea one...” she shrugged as they
made their way to the hatch. The captain turned at the hatch, one hand on the
side.

“Wild
idea?”

“Build
another ship. Or a station,” she said, voice pitched to get to them. Those
around her stopped what they were doing and stared at her. She shrugged of
their gaze, intent on the captain.

“Can
we do that?” Warner asked, looking at the captain uncertainly.

“It
would do something about the crowding,” someone murmured.

“Another
ship? Or a base?”

“Think
about it captain, I know I will. I have been thinking about it for some time
really. And they will,” she said indicating their audience. “The future is
bright indeed,” O'Mallory said as she crossed her arms. “We just have to work
hard for it,” she said.

The
captain stared at her for a long moment before nodding slowly. “We do indeed.
Thank you chief. I look forward to reading your proposal. Both of them,” he
said walking out.

Numiria
watched a Veraxin nurse examining the chart. They now had twelve additional
patients; fortunately they all took up a single bed. Ezri, another nurse was
nearby working up blood cultures. The pixy like human had a nice light touch,
delicate enough to draw tiny samples from their small patients.

“I...
I didn't know,” the Veraxin chittered in distress, coming over to the doctor.
She signed helpless dismay with her upper arms. “I... we should have but we
didn't.”

Numiria's
ears went flat as Ezri pursed her lips but didn't say anything. Instead she
carried the tray off quietly. “I didn't know either. I think it was a case of
willful blindness,” Numiria murmured watching Light Touch and her young helper
stroke a pregnant female into relaxing in the bed. “I should have. We all
should have. Seven centuries and we've overlooked them.”

“It
is wrong. We must make it right.”

“We
will,” she said with a nod. She turned to the first patient. Bloodknife was in
his own bed with life support machinery hooked up to him. Fortunately they had
found the plans to simple life support machinery and tools geared to elf
physiology in the database the admiral had uploaded for them. It had taken a
bit of scrambling to get the life support equipment she had needed but it had
been completed in time.

Bloodknife
was going to live; she studied his readouts and nodded. She was sure of that
now. It was touch and go for a while, but he was stable. In the morning they
would work on his spine. She needed to research the procedure with Light Touch
tonight. Their neurology had her particularly worried. It was so dense and
tiny... she wasn't sure they could do anything. At least she couldn't.

She
had wondered how an elf could become a doctor. Or how a normal doctor could
operate on an elf. Or on another larger alien for that matter. Fortunately the
same database with the equipment held the answer.

Well,
one answer at any rate. For conventional medicine waldos worked both ways. The
robotic arms could be built to any scale and teleoperated by the user. Good to
know. She had a two sets under construction now. She had been forced to
sacrifice some of her spares to get the materials for them, but she intended to
make up for it when this asteroid plan was put into place.

“Think
the surgery will work?” The Veraxin asked.

“I
don't know,” she sighed with an ear flick. So much was still unknown. By rights
she should take her time, keep the patient under and study the problem.
Unfortunately she wasn't sure a prolonged medical coma would help or hurt him
either.

“Too
bad we do not have access to medical nanites. They could go in and repair the
damage. If they were small enough,” the Veraxin chittered, signally
uncertainty.

“I...
you're right,” she replied and shook her head and flicked her ears. Now that
they had some answers it was impossible not to be frustrated to see how far
they had to go and not be able to go there right away. “We don't have them.
We'll make the best out of what we've got. We owe him that,” Numiria said. She
looked at the clock and sighed. It was well past dinner. She owed Lobo an
apology.

That
night the captain was in his quarters with his wife. Toni their adopted
daughter was off on a date in the garden. Cora was amused by her husband
stubbornly clinging to old habits. He was reading with his reading glasses. He
was in his chair, sitting under the reading light. When they had become a
couple she had insisted on redecorating the captain's suite. Just about
everything had been replaced.

That
stuffy battered old chair was the one thing he had insisted on keeping. She had
even tried to smuggle it out an airlock once but he'd caught her in the act and
had a work crew return it to its proper place. He'd then welded the blasted
thing to the deck so she couldn't pull that again. It was one of the few things
he put his foot down about.

Of
course it meant he couldn't shift positions with the thing now, which was
rather amusing. She had found out later that the chair was a legacy from the
first captain of the Kiev. Its massage tools were mostly broken but it was
still comfortable.

She
of course knew that from experience. When the rocking chair hadn't worked for
Toni's teething issues she'd been forced to give the chair a try. Its one
remaining vibrator had soothed both adopted mother and child into a doze. After
that she had stopped sniping at him about the dratted old thing.

Even
if it was dusty and smelly. She wrinkled her nose in thought. She watched him
adjust his glasses and then shift from one cheek to the other, trying to get
comfortable without having to get up. Perhaps she'd ask O'Mallory to take a
look at the thing she thought. Discretely of course. She'd long resigned
herself to its presence, but if it must remain here then maybe, just maybe it
could be updated. Maybe even fix the massage features? That would be nice. She
smiled as she made her way over to him.

She
stroked his chest from behind him. He looked up and smiled to her. She was
wearing a silk robe over her black silk teddy. He felt a familiar thrill at the
view. “What are you reading?” she murmured with just the right hint of
huskiness in her voice. That husky voice spoke of more delights in his near
future. He smiled slightly at her tone and showed her, angling the tablet so
she could see it better in the light.

“O'Mallory's
plans for Antigua?” she asked, reading the header at the top of the page.
“O'Mallory? The chief really filed a report let alone a
plan
?” They both
knew the chief was death on paperwork.

The
captain shrugged. “Apparently so,” he said looking at it again.

“She
really must be serious if she went through all that trouble of writing it
down,” Cora said. She came around the chair and he made room for her as she sat
in his lap. She wrapped one arm around his neck as he shifted so they both
could both see the tablet.

“It's...
she has a point,” the captain admitted.

“Oh?”

He
explained O'Mallory's plan, knowing full well who really was behind it. The
captain and Cora discussed the plan briefly. She approved it immediately of
course. He was still on the fence but leaning towards approval. His wife saw
the benefits right off. He saw the cost. Cost in fuel, and potential cost in
lives if anything went wrong.

“So
Numiria signed off on this?” Cora asked amused.

“It
appears so. The only one's not on board yet are Hir’ruk and myself. Everyone
else who is interested is all for it.”

“Interesting.
What's Hir’ruk’s problem?” she asked.

Captain
Chambers frowned. “He's concerned about resource usage. He'd like to delay his
vote until we're out of hyper just in case.” He shook his head. “He also wants
to delay waking the sleepers.”

“Huh,”
she said thoughtfully. She's glad that they want to finally do something about
the sleepers. Not only are they using up space and power... it's time to wake
them from their living hell. Limbo. She shivered a little at the thought. He
wrapped his arm around her tighter.

“Cold?”
he asked concerned.

“No,
just thinking of being in that. Of not waking or sleeping. Suspended between
life and death. That's not right. We've always wanted to do something about it.
Now we have the time. I think we should let them try,” she said meeting his
eyes.

“What
about Hir’ruk’s argument? He has a point. Besides, we really don't have the
room for more people.”

“Let
me worry about where to put the bodies,” she said.

“And
that's just it. What if some of them die?” the captain asked.

She
frowned prettily, dropping her gaze. She breathed a few times before answering.
“Then it's better to of had a clean death than to be in limbo. Do we know if
they are in agony?” she asked looking up at the ceiling and then to her
husband. He looked at her and then pursed his lips in thought. “They aren't are
they?” she asked, searching his face.

He
looked away, unsure of an answer he could give her. “I don't know,” he said
softly a minute later. “I still am not sure about this though,” he said rubbing
her arm. Six thousand people was bad enough. Throwing another nine hundred at
the ship's systems and population? How would that work out?

She
took the tablet from him and tapped at it for a moment then handed it back. He
looked at it. She had brought up the ship's systems. She pointed out that they
can easily handle another four or five hundred people now. Irons had turned
their makeshift ship into a purpose built liner by upgrading a lot of the
systems and building them properly.