Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) (37 page)

“Probably more like twenty million but a lot of them can’t be spares. We’re not going to stock spare hull plates or ribs. It’s not something we could fix outside of a yard. We have some replacement parts for the bigger pieces—like fusactor readout panels and spare boards for the Burleson drives and the field projection generators—but if we lose a whole generator, it’s going to take a yard to put it back in.”

“Good point.” He shook his head. “That’s still a lot of parts.”

“Which is why I really need Lyons.”

Trask looked at her. “You mentioned him before. Why do you need him?”

She shrugged. “He’s the inventory specialist. He knows cargoes but he also knows logistics. I need somebody I can trust to go through this with me and set up a new inventory structure.”

“Makes sense. Where is he, by the way?”

“I asked the brow watch. Wolk said he was ashore and would be back before dinner. But he didn’t come back.”

Trask made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “No real reason for him to, is there? He’s not on watch. Has no duties aboard now that the Customs people are happy we have a can of white oil from Moe’s.”

“Wolk said he usually comes back drunk with a spare case.”

“Something to tide him over for the trip home, I bet.”

“That’s the thing, Captain. He’s not drinking.”

“He wasn’t drinking, you mean,” Trask said. “How do you know he didn’t start again now that we’re docked?”

Natalya looked into her glass and swirled the heavy liquid around the bottom. “I guess I don’t.”

“What do we need to do about getting parts ordered?”

“You know any real chief engineers who’ve worked on Barbells?”

He shook his head. “Not here in Siren. Why?”

“Somebody who knows Barbells better would probably be able to look at this list and tell what’s legit and what’s bogus.” She shrugged. “We could probably get a legit parts-order database from any other Barbell docked here, for that matter.”

“You think the whole database is corrupted?”

“I know it is. We shouldn’t have been ordering parts for other ships as part of our replenishment. That’s why we have a spares database.”

Trask nodded and drained the last drops out of his glass. “Granted,” he said, and snapped the glass back onto his desk. “A stock Barbell wouldn’t have the right parts either, would they?”

“Not completely, no. We’d still have to review it and upgrade the basic Burleson parts for the Origami T’s.” She shrugged. “I didn’t notice anything else that wasn’t stock.”

“What about the fusactors?”

“Yeah, they’re beasts, but the parts we can service without a yard are common across all the various sizes. We’d have to check the main breaker switches to make sure we got ones rated for the ship, but after we get the power out of them, it’s all stepped down to standard fittings except where they drive the Burlesons’ capacitors.”

Trask smiled at her. “You talk like you know your way around an engine room.”

She felt a blush rising and hid behind her glass, rolling the last sip around on her tongue before sliding it empty back onto Trask’s desk. “I feel like I only know enough to be dangerous.”

He chuckled. “I know that feeling,” he said. “It doesn’t get any better as you climb the ladder.” He bit his lip and squinted at his desktop for a few heartbeats. “Can the chandlery help?”

Natalya thought about that. “They know all the parts but getting a database we could use isn’t exactly trivial since they supply the parts for everybody.” She shook her head. “No, the chandlery probably couldn’t but …” Her voice trailed off and she looked across the desk at him.

“But?”

“TIC might.”

Trask blinked and then laughed. “TIC? How? All this time we’ve been trying to keep them at arm’s length.”

“Yeah, but think about it. TIC inspection teams have to know what every ship needs for spares. How do they know that if they don’t know themselves?”

“So you just waltz into the TIC inspection office and ask for a copy of the spares database for a Barbell?”

“Not exactly. We’d need to know the precise model. Unwin’s been making Barbells for decades and they’re not all identical.”

Trask frowned at her. “Tell me what I don’t know, kid,” he growled, but he started hammering on his keyboard. “Model 2345.4,” he said. “Fourth flight in 2345.”

“So the ship’s almost twenty stanyers old?”

Trask frowned again. “Maybe. Kondur must have gotten it practically new.”

“So, TIC has to have a list, if not the exact database,” Natalya said.

“You think they’ll give it to you for asking?”

“What can they say? No?” Natalya asked.

“They could ask what happened to the old one.” Trask’s mouth turned down at the corners. “I can’t really see telling them somebody broke into it and changed all the values.”

Natalya saw his point. “Lemme go ask Zoya. She’s the real systems expert.”

“If Charlie were here, we could ask him.”

Natalya froze, halfway out of her chair. “Charlie.”

Trask looked at her. “What about him?”

“That’s the answer.”

“Charlie is the answer?”

“Something Mr. Blanchard said a couple weeks back while we were coming in from Moe’s. The ship’s systems get infected when everybody upgrades their tablets here and they start plugging in new chips.”

Trask nodded. “Half of them are infected. Doesn’t matter how many times you tell them—” His voice cut off and a smile spread slowly across his face. “Of course.”

“Permission to leave the ship, Captain?” Natalya stood.

“Go, go.” Trask waved a hand.

She went.

Chapter 41
Siren Orbital: 2363, August 1

Natalya made her way off the ship and made a beeline for the lifts. She thanked her Orbital Maintenance rotations for having taught her exactly where she needed to go. It was already closing in on 2000 hours, but all the ship services offices on the oh-one deck ran around the clock.

She made it to the lift just as the doors opened and disgorged a rowdy troop of spacers in civvies. She stepped aside as they passed and slipped into the lift behind them. The doors closed before she could press the button. She cursed to herself but pushed the oh-one button anyway. The deck sank out from under her, but her hopes were dashed when the car went past oh-one and opened on the oh-two deck.

She sighed and stepped back. With any luck she’d catch the oh-one on the way back up.

Two med-techs got on, followed by a pair of beefy individuals wearing orbital security jumpsuits and flashes. They all nodded at Natalya and one of the techs punched the door-close. They rode up in silence and everybody got off on the oh-one. The security people followed the techs around to starboard while Natalya consulted the office directory on the bulkhead opposite the lift. TIC Inspection and Certification lay just three doors to port on the outboard side.

She stopped outside the door and smoothed her tunic down, checking her gig line and taking a deep breath. She reached for the door handle but stopped. She purposely twisted the waistband of her slacks and ruffled both hands through her cropped hair. It was too short to muss up much, but it gave her the feeling of being mussed up. She took another deep breath, blew it out, and breezed into the office, opening her eyes wide and rushing up to the counter.

The agent behind the counter stood up quickly as she rushed toward him. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, I hope so. I need help and you’re the only people I can think of that can.”

She watched him check out her name tag and collar pips. “Ms. Regyri. What is it you need?”

“Well, this is embarrassing but somebody plugged in some fool virus-laden chip into the ship’s system.”

She saw his eyes widen. “Direct?”

“Watch stander. You know how port-side watches can be.”

“And?”

“She decided she would just watch a little holo while waiting for the next VSI.”

He frowned. “That shouldn’t have affected the ship’s operational systems.”

Natalya sighed. “No. It’s not the ship’s main systems. That would be easy. Flush it out and restart everything.”

“Then what?”

“Spares inventory.”

“What about it?”

Natalya clenched her jaw and bit out. “It renamed every damn item to something different.”

“Different?”

“Obscene, all right? Obscene.”

She saw him bite his lips together but his eyes gave away the laughter he tried to suppress. “It renamed every item in your spares database?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “Every. Damn. One.”

He did well and she heard only one slightly choked laugh. “Can’t you recover it from backup?”

“Normally, yes,” she said. “We keep two versions of backup for all the systems in the ship’s safe and another at our office on Newmar Orbital.”

“So the problem?”

“We discovered it as we were rotating the backups and I spotted it on the logs.”

“And …?” he asked. His eyes grew wide. “Wait. You backed up the obscene database.”

“Twice.”

The man’s expression lay somewhere between stifled laughter and sympathetic horror. He might have shown a little gratitude, too. “How can we help?” he asked.

“I just need a list of what we’re supposed to have in spares. A fresh database with the items and recommended stores levels would be ideal. Failing that, just a list of what we’re supposed to have. I’ve got a massive replenishment order coming in tomorrow and I’ve got no database to receive them into.”

The man clapped the palm of one hand against his mouth and drew a deep breath through his nose before blowing it out again. Natalya didn’t blame him. The picture must have been hysterical. It was all she could do to keep a straight face herself. If he started laughing, she’d probably join him.

“What ship?” He crossed back to his desk and started hitting keys on his console.

“Unwin Barbell.”

“Model?”

“2345.4.”

He looked up at her, eyebrows raised. “You just happen to know that?”

Natalya weighed her options and shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek. “I had to ask the captain.”

She watched his eyes drift upward and his lips twitch as he must have pictured that meeting in his mind. He shook himself and addressed the keyboard again. The smile kept trying to break out around his lips. Natalya had to put her head down on the counter so she wouldn’t lose it herself.

“How do you want it?” he asked.

“You’ve got it?” She lifted her head and beamed at him.

“Oh, yes.”

“Hallelujah.” She pulled out her tablet and placed it on the counter. “Can you send it to my tablet?”

He flipped a couple of screens and tapped. “I’m pinging you.”

The ping showed up and Natalya accepted it.

“You’re not afraid of getting your tablet infected?” he asked, a small smirk on his face.

She laughed. “Honestly, if I get infected from Inspections and Certifications, then there’s no hope for us.”

He appeared to recognize the compliment. “Sending now.”

The database file slithered through the connection and dropped into her tablet’s storage.

“Thank you. You’ve saved my ass.”

He gave her a bigger smirk. “We’re here to help.” He crossed to the counter and leaned forward. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Natalya shook her head and turned for the door. “No, you’ve been great. I need to get this back and get it all integrated before that replenishment order hits tomorrow.” She rolled her eyes and flounced out of the office. When the door latched behind her, she heard the peal of laughter from inside.

She chuckled all the way back to the ship.

Chapter 42
Siren Orbital: 2363, August 1

Natalya bounded up the ladder to officer country and knocked on the cabin door. Trask opened it and peered out. She held up her tablet. “Got it. We’ll have it done by tomorrow.”

“What about the current one?” he asked.

“What about it?”

“Can you make a copy before you overlay it with that?” He nodded at her tablet.

His meaning became clear. “Yes. Of course.” She wanted to believe she’d have done that anyway. “I’ll get Zoya to flash it to nonvolatile media.”

“Nonvolatile?”

“Glass. Once it’s down, nobody will be able to change it.”