Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) (51 page)

“For military personnel. They knew what they were getting into,
were trained for it. These are civilians,” Sprite reminded him as Proteus
finished the assembly stage and his right arm froze and then dropped into his
lap.

Irons sighed. “Don't you think I don't know that? The faces of the
kids? The unborn? Yes, Commander, I know. There's nothing I can do about it,
this I also know. I know it, and yet I know what we are doing now will never
seem enough. But I'm going to keep on doing what I'm doing. To save those we
can.”

“Understood Admiral,” Sprite replied softly as her avatar winked
out.

“Admiral,” Proteus said as he checked the assembly on the new
replicator.

“What is it now?” he asked in exasperation.

“Admiral, this is inefficient,” Proteus replied, surprising him.

“In what way?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he checked over the
half built replicator. It was, as he'd expected, perfect.

“In time. In order to accomplish the goals quickly material must
be processed in an expedited way. In other words, not in the replicators
themselves.”

“You're suggesting a molecular furnace?” Irons asked. A molecular
furnace was a pre-stage of manufacturing. It was basically a box of gobbler
nanites what split an object down into component materials and then funneled
them into storage bins for other manufacturing steps to tap. Some molecular
furnaces were quite efficient. He had a tiny one on Phoenix. He rather
regretted not having a larger one there.

The lights flickered. He looked up and scowled. Proteus overlaid
his infrared vision again, pointing out the hot spots in the wiring. He had to
admit, they were far beyond safe limits. They were putting an awful burden on
the power grid, both in the building and in the city. He'd have to look into
that before he turned the next replicator on.

Over the past couple of weeks they had done a great deal to teach
the natives how to use balanced loads to manage a power grid, but apparently
not enough.

“Yes admiral. And yes I understand the power required is a great
deal more than the current building can sustain. But I also believe it is
necessary. Each replicator is taking three times as long to do the job without
that step.”

“I know,” Irons replied.

“We could make a system outdoors or in a nearby building. A
grizzly to grind up the source material to make it easier, a plasma furnace to
break it down...”

“I know,” Irons replied, looking at the replicator. The power
fluctuation had thrown the device off, it had reset it's timer for an
additional ten minutes. The AI was right. He got up.

“Okay, you're right. We need more power. Can we locate an idle
industry nearby? One that has sufficient amperage?”

“I do not have that data. I am forwarding the request to
lieutenant commander Sprite for further review.”

“Good. Draw up a list. We'll see what we can do,” he said. He
already knew in moving outdoors he'd also have to move the replicators. They
had to be fed by the molecular furnace after all, the closer they were to each
other the shorter the feed time involved. “Sprite, get with someone, I don't
care. Proteus is right, we need this done,” he said. He kicked himself for not
thinking of it earlier. “Some place close by,”
 he
growled.

“On it,” Sprite replied.

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

“So, you want to leave?” Helen demanded when he explained the
situation to her later that morning.

“Not leave,” Irons replied patiently. “We don't have enough power
here, and this power grid isn't set up for manufacturing. It can't handle the
load. I'm going to relocate to a nearby industrial complex. It'll take a short
time, but we'll get it done.”

“Yeah but...” Helen sighed. “You realize while you move you won't
be producing?”

The admiral nodded. He planned on keeping the replicators running
right up until he unplugged them. He also planned on tracking each so none
would go astray either. Andrew his volunteer assistant was a nice guy, but he
was shifty. “I'm aware I won't, but I'll leave behind half the replicators
we've got here. They'll keep working, and you can make stuff without me.
Pressure suits and components for one.”

“Okay.”

“It'll take me a couple hours to get set up. After that I'll
expand exponentially, as far as the grid will let me.”

“Okay.”

“I need to do this Doc, it's not an option.”

“I gathered that. I'm just worried about you running into a riot.
Or your truck being hijacked. Replicators are in short supply,” Helen replied
tartly. “People will want them.”

“I know. Which means added security. I'm... I'm working on it,”
Irons replied.

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

It took hours to arrange transport he could trust to do the move.
Irons took the time to survey the site in person as the trucks were being
acquired. He made a few minor changes, mostly upgrades to the power grid with
Proteus, though he also made a note for someone to clean the bathrooms.

The move to the industrial complex across the street and down half
a block from hospital went relatively smoothly. The short move took hours,
Irons had to be on both ends to make sure the equipment was disconnected and
reconnected properly. Handling... he had a couple close calls of people trying
to make off with a replicator but put a stop to such nonsense by just showing
up before the handlers could hide the goods.

 A lot of people were milling about, scratching their asses and
just getting in the way. He roared at them to get moving. He had to get
additional security, press ganged a few people to help. Dividing the security
between both the hospital grounds and the industrial park wasn't something he'd
remembered to anticipate, though Defender had.

The AI had called in the ground force security commander who had
attempted to arrest him. Irons was confused by the logic of that choice, but
the woman showed up and gave him a curt nod as she deployed her people near the
entrances and gates of the complex.

A couple of would be looters tried to get into the work by
slipping into the people unloading the trucks. The admiral allowed it but kept
an eye on them. They were put to work feeding the machines raw material, a
somewhat stinky process since their main supply came from the city dump. They seemed
resentful when Irons made it clear nothing was leaving the premises and each
would be searched before leaving. However they were promised food. The promise
of inoculation for them and their families made them work in better spirits.

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

When the admiral was certain his staff knew what they were doing
he went to a meeting at the hospital. He talked to Helen and the med team after
Sprite presented their latest findings and progress report.

“The virus has a pattern, a series of epidemics designed to spread
the next disease as well as panic and disrupt the population,” the AI said,
surprising them. “Remember this is a form of bio terrorism. There is however a
purpose, a method to the madness if you will. If we can get a better time line
of epidemics I can cross reference my files for a pattern,” Sprite said. “Also
if we had the age of the pods that would help too.”

“Why?” Helen asked.

“It would allow us to see if there's a pattern, and if there is,
to anticipate it. We could inoculate the population based on a given pattern.”

Helen nodded.

“Also by getting the age you can cross reference that with known
patterns? Is that what you meant by that Sprite? What if the pods are faked?”
the admiral asked.

“That is a problem admiral.”

Helen sighed. “We can't risk you Irons, we need you here.”

“I know that.”

“And I'm not sending someone in a suit. It's just too dangerous.”

“I know that too. A drone might work.”

“Drone?” Helen asked.

“A robot. We could build another cheap one and send it in. Get
some details.”

“Ah.”

“I can also cross reference imagery if there is any in the files.
If I can ever get
access
to them,” Sprite growled. Irons grunted in
annoyance. The government was still in disarray, they hadn't opened their files
or given him or Sprite access to the net yet. Not that there was much of a net.
There was more of a net here in the hospital than in all of the capital city.

“Well, right now the epidemic is focused on mammals, specifically
Terrans. Lucky us.”

“I think it's due to population demographics doctor. You can't
tailor one virus to attack all organic life, well, I mean you could but then it
would be vulnerable.”

“I gathered that,” Helen replied dryly. “I'm actually finding a
lot of that out from the virologists. We're digging through the mountain of
data you sent me as well as our own files.”

“Lovely.”

“The first strain is an influenza, but the second has some Ebola
traits. We... the lab is still trying to get organized.”

“You mean the new lab. The last lab is down. They didn't adhere to
the proper protocols and the lab technicians were all infected,” Sprite
informed them. Irons winced. Helen sighed and closed her eyes.

“I don't know if we can beat this at this rate,” she said. “We
don't have a lot of trained techs. And each time we lose someone we have to
take the time to get their replacement up to speed...”

“Which is why medical staff have to be inoculated first, and why
they have to adhere to the proper contamination protocols doctor,” Irons
replied patting her shoulder. He squeezed it gently. “It's a gory way to learn,
but sometimes it's the only way to get it through thick heads.”

“Thick heads, try tired. If they get too tired they forget.”

“I know,” he replied quietly. “I know. We'll figure something out.
Sprite, get on that report.”

“I am,” Sprite replied.

“Good.”

Ole Blue heard more details about the pandemic and quarantine
while drinking whiskey and honey in a rundown tavern on the outskirts of
Hazard. He grumbled, unhappy about the situation. He'd seen people rushing about.
He hadn't cared for it, he had to admit he didn't like it that the population
was more scared of something other than him. “Getting off this planet just got
expensive,” he growled, looking at the amber liquid in the shot glass.

“No one's getting off. Didn't you hear? There is only one ship in
orbit right now and that admiral guy owns it,” another patron said. When the
man turned and recognized who he was talking to the slunk down into his seat,
eyes wide.

“Well, isn't that an interesting situation then,” the alien
cackled and then coughed. That cleared the building. He looked around in
amusement and then went back to his drinking.

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

Hank's crew were forced to land because one of the buses ran
perilously close to being out of fuel. “You have got to be kidding me!” the
Neolion snarled. “Any idiot knows, first thing keys, then gas, then... gah!”

Luke hunched his shoulders, thoroughly embarrassed. “I didn't know
the load would be so heavy and that we'd go somewhere else,” he admitted.
Finding a spot to land the beast had been a hairy experience. But he was coming
to realize, some things were more frightening than being two thousand meters
up. Like oh, say being two meters away from a rather pissed off blue Neolion.

“Great. Fine, whatever. Doc,” Hank said throwing his hands up in
the air as he turned to the doctor. Ivanov yawned. He didn't look happy
through. “We've got to unload some of that bus, and send it back for fuel. Once
it comes back we can refuel this bus,” he turned an angry look on Luke, “and
then be on our way.”

“How long?” Doctor Ivanov asked. He'd been asleep on the bus.

“Six hours,” the other pilot said. “I'm low on fuel too. I'm going
to need to refuel in Sin City before I can get back to you,” he said.

Hank sighed. “Go. Get everyone off the bus, get them whatever
supplies they need and then go. Take Wally and Luke. But get your asses back
here ASAP. Got it?” he growled, showing his canines. The kid nodded, eyes wide.
“Go,” he waved a dismissive hand. “I've got some calls to make,” he sighed.

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

Jerry noted how far away they were. He went to Hank. “Look man,
we're only what? Ten kilometers away? I'll go see if I can hitch a ride into
the city and bring back some support,” he said. “At least get the people back
to town before the sun gets any higher and the heat kicks in. They are going to
drop when that humidity kicks.”

Hank looked at the people milling about in the shade of the bus
and around the perimeter of the grotto they were in. Many were already fanning
themselves or waving away the bugs buzzing around them. He nodded. “Go,” he
said.

“I'm gone,” Jerry said with a grin, already moving off.

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