Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (81 page)

The
leader was shaken and only lightly hurt. He was appreciative of Irons but
reserved judgment on the situation. Irons asked that they talk it over as a
tribe and try to keep an open mind. He paused and then turned back. Romeo is
sitting there, staring at the fallen alien as a healer works on his shoulder.
He winced at the stitching, trying hard not to look. Already a pair of hunters
had curved blades out cutting up the beast. They would feast well this evening.

 
“With or without your help this station is going to be
rebuilt. If you wish to remain here you are going to have to help somehow. I
know the augments have tried to help you. They've been taking care of you when
they can.”

“The
ghosts?” Romeo asked.

Irons
frowned. “Not all ghosts are bad. I admit a few of them are or I should say
were.” He wasn't so sure the bad ones were all gone, he for one didn't like
half the surviving sane cybers but that was his opinion. “I took the bad ones
down. They will never bother you again. But don't judge them all by that bad
example. Some have helped you over the years, leaving out food or water for
you.”

Looks
were exchanged among the tribe. Finally the leader cleared his throat. “Our
ancestors were doing that,” he said looking at Irons. “Are you now saying it
was the ghosts?”

“Some
of the ghosts are your ancestors,” Irons replied.  That caused a stir. “I can
put you into contact with them if you'd like. The ones that mean you no harm I
mean.”

“We'll
think about it,” the leader said, looking at his tribe. more than half were on
edge. Apparently this was too much to assimilate all at once. Best to deal with
things in small doses.

The
admiral nodded. “Please do so. Also if you do not wish to remain on the station
then we will transport you to the planet.”

“The
planet?” The leader asked intently before people around them began to babble.
He waved for silence in exasperation. “What do you mean?” His hazel eyes bore
into the admiral's.

“I
mean just what I say. If you can't handle it here or do not want to rejoin
civilization I can arrange it so you are transported to the planet and remain
on an island. A remote island where you will have plenty of air around you.”

“No
Dilgarth?” Romeo asked.

“No.
You'll have to learn to hunt and fish and farm for yourselves. It's a hard
life. It is an option though,” he said looking around.

“Admiral
is this wise? Making such a promise?” Sprite asked him on his HUD. He closed
his eyes briefly ignoring her question for now.

“You
don't have to make a decision now but soon. Please consider what I've said
carefully,” he urged. The leader and a few others nodded.

“If,
and I do mean if we stayed. What would you do with us?” The leader asked as
Irons turned to leave.

Irons
paused and then turned back. “You all know this station better than almost
anyone. There are jobs for all if they are willing to get along with others and
are willing to learn. Food, schools, clothing, medical, all of it. What your
ancestors had can be returned. It will take a lot of hard work and time. But it
can
be done. It
will
be done. With your help,” he said.

“With
our help,” the leader said.

The
admiral nodded. “It will get done. With
or
without you. Without you will
take longer,” Irons said with a shrug. “Think about it,” he said. The leader
nodded again. Irons returned the nod and then left the compartment.

Outside
he waited until he left the tribe's area but not their site before letting out
a long exhale. “Yes Sprite, I think we can do it. Yes it's a political nightmare,
but one I'm willing to take on if we have to. I honestly don't think we will,
but I'll do it if I have to. If it means changing these people from a problem
to a solution then I'm all for it. If exporting them off the station is the
solution...” he shrugged.

“I
see,” Sprite said. “I don't know what kind of can of worms you'll open with
this though admiral,” she said. “Politically I mean.”

“Hopefully
none at all. Only time will tell,” he said with a half smile and another shrug.
“Come on, we've got more to do.”

The
Stewards managed to vent or redirect the life support, and the remaining
hostiles were trapped in air pockets or died in the decompression. It's hard on
some of the cybers, but Irons accepted it. He'd love to have saved them all but
knew the reality of the situation precluded it.

With
newly replicated filters and parts they could finally purge a lot of the
system. They flushed the remaining spaces, scrubbing the excess carbon dioxide
and other contaminants from the air.

It
took several days but the air was soon cleaner, didn't smell nearly as much,
and was dryer. Fans that had been making terrible noises were replaced. The
station was starting to feel more like a home again after so long.

Security
teams from the ship search the station and capture or eliminate the final
pockets of resistance. Since the station was over four hundred kilometers in
diameter the project was ongoing. Their prey seemed to know they were being
hunted, they found ways to stay ahead of the sweeps.

Fortunately
the Juliet and Romeo tribes were now on board with them. They even participated
in the sweeps, helping security to make contact with the holdouts or to contain
them. The Y'ru tribe was unsure, but they weren't about to oppose the
newcomers.

On
Kiev a newly awakened sleeper had taken a hand in the infirmary. Doctor Kraft
was an old medical hand, an implant surgeon. He helped Numiria and started
showing her how to do implant procedures. Doctor Kraft initiated additional
sleep teaching methods for first the medical staff and then the crew.

A
salvage crew found a stasis pod with surviving Garthians. They were ancient,
the original security force of the station. There were three of them, all
injured to various degrees.

The
admiral had them kept in stasis over the objections of several survivors. He
explained that they were sapient, and might be useful later.  Doctors Kraft and
Trask supported him and put the aliens into deep stasis. Kraft announced they
have begun second level augmentation with the first group of volunteers. That
seemed to deflect some people.

Irons
met with a group. The healer of the tribe looked oddly familiar. He of course
recognized her, she was the woman he had helped earlier, the mother. But there
was something else there, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Sprite
would normally help but she doesn't respond to his curious request. Just a curt
“I'm busy.” And she's gone.

He
kept meaning to deal with her issue but it kept getting sidelined by everything
going on. It had been a hectic three days, with the life support purges, the
round ups, and finding the Garthians. Arguing about them had taken up hours. It
felt a little strange to argue with the survivors from the first expedition and
have people like Yan Fu on his side. He wasn't sure what to make of that
really.

He
spent a day, and quite a bit of his time, talking with the tribe. Of course it
wasn't all lectures, he worked a bit on various small life support and other
projects while he answered their questions. Over time he explained the
difference between the ghosts and the ancestors. He wasn't sure how much they
could understand. Doctor Kraft's sleep teaching program had yet to be set up
for the tribes even though they were the priority group.

“Some
of us truly are your ancestors,” the doctor said from the overhead. He looked
up. The girl froze and her face worked. There is surprise and a blossoming
smile there. A welcoming smile which surprised the admiral. Revulsion was on
some of the other faces however.

“An
ancestor?”

“Well,
we are one in the same.” he listened to the story. Apparently the girl and her
family have been talking with the doctor off and on for a while. But only to
her voice, always with ideas on how to help them. Most of it they didn't
understand. They kept this from the others.

It
turned out the girl had a child, a little girl about four. Doctor Trask glowed
into holographic being when she heard this. Apparently the mother had cut her
off and ran for a while. Now she was welcoming her back.

The
holo startled some until she knelt next to the little girl hiding behind her
mother. “I'd never hurt you granddaughter,” she said, reaching out.

The
little girl peaked between her mother's legs as the adults gasp and grasp that
new concept. The mother is startled.

“Granddaughter
huh?” Irons asked. So that explained the weird vibe he had. “You didn't say
anything before doc,” he said.

“Yes,”
the doctor said, not looking his way at first. When the little girl doesn't
respond to her overture she looked at him fully. “I... that is the other
reason I became part of this station. To look after my grandchildren and their
children. To watch over them,” she said, voice softening as she looked at first
the mother and then her child.

“Ah.”

Doctor
Trask smiled a little. “I... I'm agoraphobic, which is ironic. But I always
loved virtual reality. I loved it as a child. But when the shuttle accident
took my beloved...”

“You
developed a neurosis,” Irons murmured. “A natural fear.”

Doctor
Trask nodded. “I... yes. But I... they had to sedate me to get me here. But I
could be here, watching them.”

“Wow,”
Irons murmured. That took a lot of dedication, to do that. And risk. What if
her grandchildren had transferred to someplace else later in life? Of course
that had never happened he realized.

They
continued to talk for a bit. Together with Doctor Trask's help they managed to
reach further agreement with the tribe. Irons noted that as they continued to
talk with Doctor Trask they seemed to accept her more. She became less of a
ghost, less of a threat and more of a curiosity. Some like her descendants were
on the fence. Her four year old great something granddaughter with no
preconceptions of her own readily accepted her.

Romeo
was amused over time. Finally he agreed to let his people consider what they
wanted to do.

A
work crew worked in a hot corridor dangerously close to the contained Dilgarth.
Guards waited outside, warily watching their sensors. The leader of the work
party was a tough mid sized woman and she was dressed in stained shortie shorts
and short tank top sports bra. Her clothing was sticking to her from her sweat
and the humidity in the air. She grimaced as she concentrated, welding the
patch in front of her. “There,” she said getting up. “That did it,” she said
with relief, straightening as she pulled her welding goggles up off her eyes
and onto her brow. She wiped the sweat off her brow with her glove and flicked
it away. She held the torch in her right hand and thumbed the controls down and
then off. “How's your end Howi?” she asked. Howi was her apprentice, a good kid
who was just starting out but seemed to be a natural with a torch or welding
rig. He looked up and gave her a thumbs up, smiling.  “Done?” she asked. The
chimp nodded.

“Good,
let's get the hell out of here,” she said. She could hear the faint snarling
and scraping. With their patches in place the remaining Dilgarth were trapped
in the one service section. Now they could flood the compartment with gas to
knock the bastards out.

She
felt a bite and swatted at it as she racked her tools. She had her shirt tied
around her waist. She took it off to wipe at her face with it. “Damn hot,” she
said. She looked at the bite. She wasn't sure where the hell the insects came
from, but they loved this warmth. She grimaced as she flicked another off her.
“Let's get out of here before we're eaten alive,” she said.

“Dilgarth?”
Howi asked, brown eyes wide. He looked around and started to grimace,
bristling. She couldn't blame him; he was a tribesman, one of the few who had
readily adapted to the new situation. His partner Shari, another chimp was
nearby. Shari wasn't as adaptive with the torch and tools as Howi was but she
was learning.

“No,
the damn insects,” Regina said swatting another as it bit her bare thigh.

“Yeah,
let's go,” he said with a nod.

“When
they going to gas it?” The nearby guard asked as the coiled the hoses and
started to carry the equipment out.

Stane
frowned. He was in charge of this mess. “Just as soon as some luckless bastard
gets to fix the damn life support.”

“Oh.”

“Not
soon enough for me. Personally I think we should just vent the compartment and
then go in and clean it up after a couple of days. For some reason the brass
are too squeamish and want to keep them alive,” Stane growled. He looked at the
closed and locked hatch but saw Howi and Shari nodding out of the corner of his
eye.

Regina
was already off, moving her gear onto the hover pallet and then pushing it down
the companionway. Her two apprentices were a bit slower but were picking up
speed as they followed in her wake.