Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) (53 page)

Hank looked aggrieved at the handset in his and before he put it
away. “Break time she says,” he growled. “That does it, that proves their ain't
no justice in this world,” he growled.

Jerry looked up from where he had been working on assembling a suit.
“You just now figuring that out Hanky old boy?” he asked.

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

Hank let someone else deal with the housing and food issues, he
had other things to do. More important things in his eyes. One of the first
things he did was put up a series of weather sensors and science packages
around the city. The science packages would detect and alert them if the
pathogens were detected. Jerry complained about trying to use the shovel to dig
the holes for the pipes, muttering constantly about his short legs and
stereotyping. Wally had stuck around to help, though the kid kept a respirator
mask attached to his hip at all times. When Jerry's complaining got to him he
took over the digging. Hank in a pique of stereotyping then sent the chimp
climbing up poles and trees to attach additional sensors. “I bet you think this
is funny,” Jerry called down. “You know you make a nice target from here,” he
growled, looking down at Hank.

“Just attach the damn thing. Use the tape or wire, whatever works.
Play pranks later banana breath,” Hank sighed tiredly.

“Who's playing,” Jerry muttered, wrapping the tape around the gray
box and pole a few times and then using his canines to snip the rigger tape.
“This'd better be worth it,” he muttered, picturing Hank covered in shit. He
was tempted, oh so tempted to do it. But, he'd have to come down eventually, he
thought, so maybe it wasn't worth it.

He scrambled down and looked at his nominal boss. Hank snorted.
“What?” he asked.

“Oh, just wondering what you'd look like in brown,” Jerry said
innocently. Hank eyed him with scant favor as he waved him onward to their next
location.

“One point, and I'm saying this now,” Jerry said. “I ain't going
up and bringing these things down. I don't like heights,” he said as they
walked.

“Then why are you doing it?” Hank asked, flicking his ears in
amusement.

“Cause I hate digging more,” Jerry said speeding up. Hank chuffed
a laugh.

He also replicated a cell tower and set it up on the clock tower
near the center of the city. Jerry went around looking for dead spots after a
late lunch. His “Can you hear me now?” had more than one person confused. They
replicated several additional cell towers and trays of cell phones to hand out
to friends and supporters.

Hank also took the time to upgrade and repair the power and water
to the run down building Hodges had lent to the doctors for their efforts.
“He's all heart,” Jerry said snidely.

His final two products were an air conditioning unit and a
portable generator just in case they lost power. Which was promptly stolen from
the place he put it in behind the building. Of course he didn't find out about
that until he checked the next morning. When he did he spent a good half hour
turning the air as blue as his fur.

Irons set up an air filtration system for the Landing hospital, as
well as water filters. He put in layers of defenses, unsure what was needed.
The air would pass through a UV chamber to kill the bugs. The simple system had
been debugged in under an hour and then passed on to manufacturers to make
copies.

They had some ability to manufacture the electronics with off the
shelf components, but not all. He dedicated an electronics replicator for that
purpose.

While he was at it, he overhauled the air conditioner system,
replacing the missing gases and using his nanites to repair the corroded
wiring. For the first time in centuries the air conditioner came on. The ducts
blew dust for some time before they were cleared.

At first the staff were exasperated by the contamination, but when
the sun hit noon and the summer heat kicked in they were grudgingly grateful
for the cool interior.

 The admiral however wasn't finished. He had a class with him, he
taught them how to make and install the filtration system and how to make basic
repairs to the heating and air conditioning system. He set them up with tools
and parts and sent them to Hazard and Sin City with orders to do what they
could for the other facilities. He noted some materials were skimmed off to go
to rich people or other important people.

“If they think that's it to preventing the virus they are dead
wrong,” Sprite commented.

“Their problem. Ignorance knows no bounds. They don't care about
anyone but themselves and right now I could give a rat’s ass about them. Next
problem,” he growled.

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

Helen set up additional barracks and even tents for the staff to
sleep in. Some brought their families. She was not happy about that, they were
an additional burden of resources on the hospital. Landing was sending food and
other materials, but sometimes getting materials was like pulling teeth, even
under these circumstances. She knew that after the crisis there would be an
accounting... but they had to live through it first.

But many of the kids and family members made themselves useful by
working with their parents or helping keep the place clean. All wore masks and
gloves. She frowned, not happy but letting the matter slide for now. Her eyes
roved the group.

A little girl was terrified, she clung to her mother's skirt. “She
stays with me or we both leave doctor. Take it or leave it. I'm not abandoning
my daughter.” Her mother defiantly told Helen. “I'll deal with it,” she said
coldly, eyes flashing. Helen was reminded of a mother bear protecting her cubs.

Helen relented and nodded her assent without a word. “You realize
you're putting her at risk though? With the additional exposure here?” she
asked. The mother nodded and moved on about her duties.

Eventually she set up a daycare with a couple of the parents who
were not medics to keep the younger kids occupied and entertained. Irons
dropped in and gave them plastic items and a small food replicator. At first
she thought it was a distraction, but then she found out from one of the
impromptu teachers that they were items to assemble for kits for medics. The
food replicator made the parts, the kids just had to put them together in the
packs. She was amused by the admiral's act.

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

Eight supply flights a day were sent to Hazard by two aircraft and
the two air buses. Each were tested before they left. The aircraft were
refueling on each end, and the crews weren't getting much rest. They had to
take advantage of the precious time before the virus hit Hazard though. “Were
getting flak from Sin City,” Doctor Zane reported.

“We are?” Helen asked.

“Yes. They have double the population now.”

Helen's eyes flashed. “Tell them to piss off,” she said almost
sweetly. Zane blinked at her in shock and surprise. “They didn't want to help,
they threw every road block they could when we tried to set up there. As far as
I'm concerned they can damn well wait. We fight the fire on the front line now,
we're set up for it and there's no going back now. Besides, you don't have a
runway anyway!” she said.

She was careful this time after she heard about the losses from
the first flight. Hank was sent an inventory each time before the aircraft
landed. He made it clear to all he was checking it. Jerry helped.

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

Hank called in with a request for specific parts and materials.
Sprite handled it. When she heard about his reluctant helper he asked her if
there was some sort of reward or incentive program.

“I'd like to go into business with the ape if I don't strangle
him,” Hank said, giving the chimp the evil eye. Jerry flipped him the bird.

“Or the virus kills him and you first?”

“Yeah, about that...”

“We're working on it,” Sprite said caustically.

“I know, and we are too on this end.”

“I tell you what,” Sprite said. “Jerry, I am a commander in the
Federation Navy. On my word, and on my honor you will be compensated for your
time and efforts. How does your own replicator and vaccination shots sound?”
she asked.

 His eyes had gone wide at the replicator, but then narrowed when
the last bit registered. He wrinkled his nose. “I hate shots,” he growled.

“You'll love these. These will keep you alive,” Sprite replied
sweetly.

“Oh.” Jerry blinked. “Yeah, okay,” he grimaced though. “You know I
like rough, take charge girls, can I ask you out on a date when this is over?”
he asked. Hank snorted. Jerry turned to him. “Hey man, don't knock it until
you've tried it, frisky is fun,” he grinned. Hank snorted again.

“Thanks, but I don't date organics,” Sprite replied dryly.

“Oh,” Jerry said and then blinked. “Oooh!” he said, eyes wide,
catching on to who he had been talking to finally.

“Now, you said you needed to find the links to some equipment?
Specifically medical equipment? The search engine is having trouble?”

“Are you kidding? It's got thousands of entries. Picking the right
one in the right size... I don't want to waste time and materials replicating
the wrong stuff,” Hank replied.

“All right. I'm sending your computer an e-mail and attachment. It
will have bookmarks and item numbers for you to use. These are items we're
currently using here or are putting into production now. You do realize you
can't produce much right?” she asked.

“Every little bit helps right?” Hank asked.

“Right. Thank you Doctor McCoy,” Sprite replied.

“Call me Hank, everyone does,” Hank said with a smile.

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

With sufficient suits Hank held a school on how to use them.
Hodges couldn't fit into one, so he was given a respirator. He was desperate to
get a suit for himself and his precious Lulu. Hank had to promise to make a
custom suit to get the nagging fat man off his back. Hank showed Sheriff
Coltrain and his deputies as well as the volunteers how to put the suits on and
keep them functional. All winced when they lined up and were given booster
shots to help combat the pathogens.

Nohar however refused a suit. “First I'm partially immune,” he
said.

“But...” Hank held up the red suit.

“Second there's this and this,” Nohar replied, pointing to his
artificial right arm, and leg. He'd lost the leg from just below the knee and
it still gave him problems. Mainly because he didn't have a proper prosthetic,
he'd only lost it a short time ago.

“Okay, so what do I do with this?” Hank asked, looking guiltily to
the tiger's leg.

“Find someone who can use it. Rajar for one.”

“I'll find him,” Hank replied with a serious nod.

“Thanks Hank,” Nohar said gruffly, slapping him on the shoulder.
“We'd be in a heap of trouble without you,” he said.

Hank looked at him in amusement. “I thought we already were in
enough trouble?” he asked.

“Yeah, and think of how much worse it would be for the rest of us
without you and that replicator,” Nohar said. “The right tools and people in
the right place, at the right time. That's how battles are won,” he said.

“We'll see,” Hank said. “Not much of a battle though,” he said
tucking the suit under his arm.

“Biggest one of your life,” Nohar replied, shaking his head. “Of
all our lives,” he murmured as the blue Neolion left.

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

Doctor La Plaz realized that some people were immune or were more
resistant because they were descendants of genies or descendant of people who
had been given anti-virus treatments during the latter stages of the war. Some
of these treatments were written into their genetic code, improving their
immune system and providing them with a series of antibodies that their bodies
had faithfully made over the centuries as they passed it down from one
generation to the next.

However these were hard to harvest, and even harder to reproduce
in the lab. They were almost useless to pass on to others. He got into a
discussion with Sprite over that, who pointed out that their ancestors may have
been inoculated centuries ago, but that immunity may not have been passed on to
their children. If the pathogens are hardened against vaccines and antibiotics
they could still be effected.

Nohar had overheard their discussion and remembered the blood
drive to look for people who were immune. He winced slightly. He hated needles.

“Doctors,” he said. Doctor La Plaz’s image frowned on the screen.

“I'm sorry to interrupt but...” He took a deep breath and then
launched a little into his history. He admitted to doctor Ivanov that he had
been given inoculations against most bio-weapons. “But I only received the last
boosters a year and a half before I went into cryo so I'm not sure how
effective they will be.”

“Whatever,” the nurse said, getting a blood draw kit ready. “By
the time we're done with you, you are going to be white as a sheet.”