Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) (30 page)

“I don't know Sprite, I wasn't there. You have the database. I
believe if I remember my memes class right, that the example of Robin led
people to believe in themselves, and how they could affect social and political
change. How to stand up to tyranny. To believe in the basis of justice, and
that sometimes one had to step outside the law to get justice.”

“That's... interesting,” Sprite replied, making a note of his
argument. She would have to meditate over it later.

“There are many examples here Sprite. The point is, it was a dark
time, hope was lost, people needed a leader, someone to look up to. When no one
stepped forward they invented one. One that could be perfect. One that they
could have anywhere, at any time. Did you note the lack of a death date?”

The AI avatar turned to look at the statue. “Or a birth date. Or
any date at all actually,” Sprite replied. Irons nodded.

“Exactly. It's an ongoing myth. Subconsciously the populace knows
it, but the myth lives on and grows because it sets an example for others to
follow. I wonder how many children grew up wanting to be just like him?”

“And how many learned the truth?” Sprite asked.

“I don't know.”

“Should we tell them?” Sprite asked. “You know how people are
about their heroes and finding that they have flaws.”

“True. Which is why, no, it's none of our concern. He's effecting
positive change so I say, leave it be.”

“And so the legend continues,” Sprite mused, clearly amused. “Do
you think they will make statues of you someday?” Sprite asked, lips puckering
in a teasing half smile.

“Spirit of Space I hope not,” the admiral groaned, slapping his
thigh as he got up. The wind picked up. It was supposed to rain soon, he could
feel the barometric pressure changing. “I'd be mortified,” he said honestly.

“Sure.”

“You on the other hand....” he teased.

The AI preened. “I'd like it,” she said, posing.

He snorted. “Come on, time to get out of here. I'm in no mood to
play lightening rod,” he said. Other people were looking to the darkening
western sky. They were holding their hats as the winds picked up. One woman
pushed her dress down, squealing in indignation when the winds lifted the light
cloth up.

“Yeah, lightening rod is not a good occupation for you admiral.”

“Cute.”

...*...*...*...*...

The admiral stretched as he came out of the hallway bathroom. He
nodded politely to a gentleman as he passed him on the way back to his room. He
turned to see the gent take his top hat off as he entered the bathroom and shut
the door. He snorted and went into his room.

It was a simple affair, a four meter square room with a chipped
brass bed against one wall. A simple shelf served as a dresser. An aged mirror
that was chipped and loosing it's silver was on top of the shelving unit. A
sign between the mirror and the door had a list of rules. He ignored it as he
closed the door behind him.

“Any word on the fuel?” Irons asked.

“No,” Sprite replied, sounding annoyed.

“I'm getting the feeling we're getting stiffed. Or he wants a
bribe,” Irons replied, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull his boots off.

Sprite analyzed the situation for a moment. She was forced to
agree with her admiral though. “I'm not sure a bribe is worth the effort. A
word to Hodges might help.”

“Hodges wants to get rid of me. You'd think he'd be smart enough
not to pull this sort of thing,” Irons replied.

“No one ever said he wasn't greedy Admiral. Sometimes greed
overtakes common sense. Especially in you organics,” she teased.

“True.” He pulled his other boot off and then pulled the sheets
down. He yanked off the blankets, he wouldn't need them. He was planning on
heading out in the morning. Crater City was nice if you liked a western town,
but he was too civilized for this sort of atmosphere. Charming but no, he
actually liked electricity and access to running water. He grimaced at the oil
lamp hanging on the wall. The wick flickered.

“They go all out to keep things simple around these parts don't
they?” Sprite asked, hamming a line he'd heard all day as he went around town.
He'd spent some time sightseeing, like at the park, but more time trying to
help out, fix things. He couldn't help not wanting to help them, help fix their
myriad of various mechanical and electrical woes.

He'd given up after someone tried to charge him for the
privilege
of fixing their water filtration system. Enough was enough. He didn't need the
sleep but that had made him not only annoyed, but excessively wearied.

“Do you have a schedule for tomorrow?”

“Head back to civilization after breakfast,” the admiral grunted.
Sprite snorted. “I take it you are all for that?” he asked.

“You could say that again. Talk about being alone with your
thoughts,” Sprite answered. It was his turn to snort. “I need a net, a
database, something. You handed out two dozen microcomputers and all but one
are sitting somewhere unused. The one that is used is being used as an
entertainment system by the child of the sheriff.”

“So much for the idea of having a database for his police force to
use,” the admiral said with a sigh.

“True. He never did use it all day. Just gave it to his brat...
who is trying to find porn on the thing. I am guessing he is a sub adult.”

“Great,” Irons replied with a grunt of annoyance. He got up and
blew the oil lamp out and then climbed into the bed. The aging springs creaked
under his weight, making him concerned about it carrying the load all night
long. When he settled onto his side he sighed. It wasn't comfortable, there was
a spring digging into his hip slightly, but it was probably better than
sleeping on the lightly sanded floor. “Night Sprite,” he said.

“Good night Admiral,” Sprite replied.

Sprite waited for ten minutes as the admiral's respiration and
heart rate slowed to an even rhythm. He wasn't quite asleep yet, but he was
relaxed. Ten minutes was practically an eternity to one such as her, but she
was patient.

The admiral needed two to four hours of sleep every twenty four or
so hours. He could go for longer periods without sleep, he'd done so before
many times over the years, but his organic body parts needed that rest. His
brain certainly did, his efficiency degraded in parallel to the length of time
he was awake.

But not all the sleep was just for him. For instance, now that the
admiral was no longer actively using the nanites, Proteus was now using stored
materials to replace those lost during the day's activities, as well as doing
nightly chores of upkeep and maintenance to the admiral's implants.

Unfortunately there was no electrical power so they couldn't
recharge, but the AI needed the downtime themselves. Defender was ever present,
watchful of the admiral's surroundings in case of a night time attack. Sprite
being the 'smart' AI used the time to get some downtime herself to catalog and
index her various datum’s of the day. Given enough new input and her own
ruminations and she would 'evolve' to a higher class of smart AI. There were
pros and cons in doing so.

She ran through the list of topics from the day, but then paused
when she got to the discussion about the statue. It was odd, it was
something... there was something there, something she hadn't thought of then,
but now the implied connection fairly leapt to her consciousness. She ran cross
check with the Encyclopedia files, bookmarking some of the discussed figures
and then drew them together and ran a comparison. As links were drawn between
past and present she started to see another link, one to her own. One she
hadn't quite seen before, she was surprised to see the observed the results.

Take for instance Santa Claus, mythological figure of giving,
harmony, and peace. Also an inducement to give to others, and for children to
behave in order to receive worldly goods. Fascinating, using and promoting
natural greed to promote good behavior the contradictions in giving and
receiving there... she set the in-depth analysis aside for now.

Then there was Robin Hood. A fallen lord who takes the cause of
justice and fight against tyranny by becoming a thief and occasional murderer.

Then there was Paul Bunyan, the legendary figurehead of the timber
cutters. He promoted hard work, discipline, and getting the job done.  Follow
that by Johnny Appleseed, a man who was ever kind to animals and went across
the North American continent sowing apples and preaching religion.

Another was the admiral's namesake, John Henry, the steel driver.
A hard working man who promoted unions and the rights of laborers.

There were more, dozens more, both from social texts and even in
fictional texts, but she saw a common thread now. The one of the admiral
himself.

She checked the stories by Mr. Richards and compared them to some
of the various legends. A man who healed people, who went around doing good,
helping others, who asked little of himself in return. Who promoted knowledge
and understanding, as well as justice. He stood up to evil, and yet did not
stay for long, ever moving onward. She cross checked those concepts with the
actions of the admiral over the past five years they had been awake.

She added her own attempts at managing his public profile, and his
insistence on sticking to the truth even if it hurt. On how the truth was the
best advertisement. Then she took a hard look at the actions of the people who
stood in his way and how he handled each situation.

She ran all these factors through a pattern check, and then set up
a simulation of events. She had to task the mini-computers the admiral still
had on hand to help her... but after a few moments she realized they weren't
enough and so she sent the data to Phoenix in a burst transmission.

Phoenix, with access to the near idle ship's computer processors
ran the simulation and then sent it back to her. She opened the file, ignoring
his comments on it for now.

If the stories of his travels propagated... she entered in the
various stories that were common knowledge here. His exile was a major
detraction, but behind that were all the various stories of good he had done.

Was he building a legend about himself on purpose? Did he
understand it? Was he using it? Was this a part of his grand plan? And if so,
why not tell her? He'd told her his plan had been to find a location, to
restart the Federation, but could his actions, these wanderings around the
sector... could they be doing that as well? From the simulation it seemed they
would be as effective if not more than his actual setting up root somewhere.

The admiral wasn't a narcissist, he didn't do all these things
because he wanted to promote his own self-image, of that she was almost certain
of. He was humble, always giving back more than he took. Again something, a
trait he seemed to live by without ever bringing up to others.  He lived by
example, and his blunt truthfulness sometimes got on her nerves. Now she
wondered about that as well.

Why didn't he say this to her? She was almost certain that he had
thought of it by now, or at least the comparison had come to his sub
consciousness. She ran a simulation of his personality and then ran it three
more times to be certain. Each time came within ten percent variance of the
original concept. One of the reasons the simulation provoked was one for
further thought. The possibility that he was aware of the situation, but didn't
want to react to it or draw attention to it. Which led to another thought, that
he didn't want
her
to draw attention to it either, most likely because
it would then draw down on the legend. Her natural and programmed desire to
protect and promote his public image would have come into play, and might of
actually hurt his cause.

Now she understood why he'd been dismayed with his exile from
Pyrax. Not because of the actual exile itself, but in the damage the
accusations did to his reputation. And not even because of the effect on
himself, but on how the dark stain of the event would overshadow everything he
was trying to accomplish now. It was all very tricky, and yet she wasn't sure
how much of it was true. Some of this after all was based on supposition from
her simulations of his cortex.

It was all very fascinating really, she reopened the radio link to
Phoenix to discuss it with the other AI. Only time would bear out whether she
was correct or not, but she could at least talk to someone about it.

...*...*...*...*...

Sprite waited until they were on their way back to Metropolis
before she confronted the admiral about her simulation. She laid out her logic
and he just listened, occasionally smiling slightly, but never commenting about
it. Not until she was finished did he say a word. “I didn't understand why you
did what you did, all the small things, fixing things that didn't matter. Or
wasting your time when the bigger picture was more important. Now it makes
sense. Sort of.”

“Maybe. But did you ever stop to think that I did it because I
actually
like
to help? Fix things I mean?” he asked.

“True, that is a part of your nature.”