Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) (85 page)

Senka had a small population, growing smaller every year. Many had
died by the pirates, others died when the air or power ran out. Trying to
survive with what was left was next to impossible but somehow they did it.
Without a planet, without a formal space station... somehow they still did it,
still lived. It would be a testimony to people and how stubborn they could be
if it didn't make her want to cry.

She was tired of Senka, tired of scratching a living out of the
rock, trying to survive, watching the air bottle run out, worried about the
heater freezing up, the constant threat of radiation... a retro misfiring... to
others it was part and parcel of their life but not her. No, not her. She
wanted out. She wanted to strike it rich and get her mom out of this wretched
system. Go somewhere it was safer, where there were more people. She was a
spacer born and bred so she would prefer somewhere like Pyrax. She'd heard
about New Dublin and wanted no part of that mess.  Hell no! No way. She wanted
a guy to maybe settle down with, but not some slave master. Screw that.

No, she wanted more and she'd damn well get more or die trying.
Already she'd picked up enough bits on this trip to pay for this trip and her
next two fuelings as well as enough O2 for both her and her mother for the next
year.

She rubbed her brow gently, aware her skin was dry. The air was
too dry, there was too little water in it, a problem in this ship. She had to
keep it dry, too much humidity affected the electronics. But that wasn't the
problem on her mind right now. She licked her chapped lips and then took a sip
of water from the tube rigged by her head.

She had to do something.  Her mother's gambling habit was just too
much to support.  Mom kept promising she'd stop but each time she'd returned to
port town she'd found creditors waiting for her in the dock and mom looking all
sad and puppy eyed.

Twice she'd thought she'd made it, made enough to buy passage out
of here only to find mom had made a stupid bet and had to pay her mother's
debtors off... which of course sucked her dry. Twice. Her mother was apologetic
for days afterward. She'd resented it but she knew her mother just couldn't
help it. She had to bet on what she thought was a "sure thing".

It was getting to the point where she was afraid of leaving.  But
she had too, she had to survive.  They didn't make enough in port town to
support the both of them!  Of course her mother fretted when she was gone,
gambling helped ease that apparently but damn it all! Why did she have to throw
good credits down the refresher like that!

Burning lava like resentment cut through her once more before she
sighed, forcing herself to relax and put it aside. No, she'd gotten Felix’s
word that he wouldn't take her mother's money, he'd turn her away.  She'd even
paid him to do it. Hopefully he'd hold up his end.

He'd better, she thought in disgust as she checked the readings.
She had to be careful, the EPS conduits she'd already salvaged were going to
make balancing the bitch a pain in the ass. The life support parts strapped to
her undercarriage were great but the conduits were where the credits really
were. Life support parts could be made or remade given the right materials and
time. Conduits couldn't.

Whoever had named her battered elderly tug the Tin Plated Bitch
had one hell of a sense of humor she thought wryly, twisting her lips as she
studied the read outs.  Seven hundred plus years old and still going strong,
she thought, stroking the taped arm rest.

A few minutes later she arrived at the next find. A jumble of
wreckage a meter long tumbled in space, wiring snaking out and jiggling like
Medusa tentacles. No, not worth it. One good scare with one of those cables was
enough for a life time.

She didn't need to get trapped again. Next time she may not be so
lucky. She stared at the screen and then tapped at another piece further off.
She shivered a little but kept it under control. There was no need to get all
freaky, it had been a brief scare but she'd gotten through it relatively
unscathed. She hated the suit but it sure was a life saver she thought, rubbing
the faded orange left bicep armor.

She was still in her hard suit, she hated the thing, but getting
in and out of it was too much of a pain in the closed confines of the tug's
claustrophobic cabin.  Her helmet and gloves were racked nearby. She looked up
to the controls and flipped a switch.  When the red light on the pump stayed
lit she swore and tapped at it a few times until it went out. She watched it
suspiciously for several minutes, making sure the fuel was moving from one tank
to the other as she'd intended. She needed to keep the bitch's balance just
right or she'd fly off course when she did her main burn.

She'd also worn the suit just in case she'd have to pump the cabin
down and run on her suit to get to port. She'd had to do that twice and it had
been a terrifying experience. One she vehemently didn't want to repeat. Not now
or ever.

From the look of things she'd be okay. If she could find at least
one more tidbit and bring it home to balance the load.

Uncle Edgar had told her how a ship normally died. She'd carefully
listened and even took notes when he'd explained it. When a ship died, it died
in one of three ways. The first, it was chewed up but her reactors scrammed
before they blew and she was a derelict in space, adrift and salvageable.

The second, she broke in half, or in several pieces, each tumbling
off into space. That hadn't happened here either. The third, the reactors were
hit, or a nuke got past the armor and tore her up from the inside out.

Most of her innards were toast, free floating atoms and bits that
had pushed other bits out during the rather exciting explosion. The armor had
briefly contained some of the damage, but it was designed to protect stuff from
coming in, not out.

Sometimes bits spewed from ports, hatches, and other places before
they were chewed up by the nuclear fireball and consumed. Sometimes this
wreckage was pushed out, past the dead ship and into space. In a one and a
million shot, some of that wreckage bore fruit.

Like this one, she thought, smiling as she expertly picked her way
through the floating bits of rubbish to another find. It was a piece of a
shuttle bay she recognized, maybe... she used a waldo to catch it and then turn
it to inspect. She reared back, a body was melted into it. She bit her lip and
let it go, letting it drift once more.

"May you rest until the spirits bring back our dead,"
she said softly, turning once more.

She wasn't like Digs or Half Cock, she didn't bring in things like
that. Not to the recyclers who broke them down to use in the food. No, they'd
suffered enough.

She turned, looking onward and sighed.

After a long moment she glanced at the clock. She had another...
hour and ten minutes before her window to return home closed. Just enough
time... she scanned the area once more. She picked out the nearest return and
hit the retro's to investigate it.

She was glad she did a half hour later. Strapped to her remaining
flank was the bow of a military shuttle. She grinned at the find. Sure it was
milspec, she wasn't sure if the electronics were salvageable, probably not,
they might blow. But the rest of it was great.

Even if it wasn't useable, she could always sell it to the
recyclers who'd melt it down for scrap. She'd found her bit to make a tidy bit
of profit out of this venture after all.

She cracked her knuckles and set course for home complacent.

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

As she passed a rock something latched onto her.  Her little tug
pitched over, spinning. Klaxons wailed. She was shocked to see another waldo in
front of her cockpit glass, tearing at her little tug. "What the
hell?" she demanded, trying to regain control. This was way beyond a
prank. This was a serious assault!

"Didn't anyone teach you to
share
bitch?" Digs
growled, cutting at her lashings.

"Why you bastard! I never thought you'd turn jack!" she
snarled, trying to fight Digs off. He caught her one freed waldo and held it.
They drifted closer. She could see him in his cockpit. He smiled a greasy smile
and touched the boom mike in front of his mouth.

"Now, now, don't be rude. There is more than enough here for
the both of us,” he smirked.

"Bullshit! You know I found it fair and square! Go get your
own!" she snarled, struggling.

He tisked tisked mockingly and kept her pinned. "Stalemate,
and from the looks of it, you've used up a lot of your juice finding all those
nice bits," he smiled.

She glared, red eyes flashing dangerously. "You pirate!"
she screamed.

"Now no need to be rude!" he mocked, grinning.  He
licked his lips. This was going to be fun he thought. He was tempted to draw it
out, tempted to make her suffer a bit. But he reminded himself that if he did,
it made it more dangerous, yes the danger was fun, but the possible exposure
wasn't. If one of her radio signals got to the wrong person he'd be in trouble.

"So now what? You think you can get me to just let you rob
me?" the girl snarled. "Just like that?" She felt a sinking
heart. There was no way he could afford to let her live. Was he even going to
bother with trying to bribe her? No, certainly not. The old saw about dead men
tell no tales ran through her mind.  It equally applied to women she realized.
A woman like her, she thought frantically.  She quickly concentrated, trying to
think of what she could do to turn the odds in her favor.

"Oh, I know it won't go down like that. Pity, you are a
looker. But well..." Digger smiled nastily as he moved his controls. A
third arm moved up, a dick arm they called it. Her eyes narrowed in disgust for
a brief moment as she puzzled at what he was up too. When she saw the glint of
the broken drill bit on the tip her eyes widened in fright.

"Digs!" her shocked high pitch voice screamed over the
radio.

"Yes it's a bit worn and cliche, but it'll do the job,"
he said, moving the drill bit into position. “A little stuck up chit like you
should be honored,” he said with a nasty grin in his voice. She'd been a late
bloomer, flat chested until all of a month or so ago. She was still short like
her mother. Sort of a blue fuzzed younger version of the gambling prostitute.
His brother Edgar had been taken with her for some reason, taking care of her
when her mother was turning tricks or getting herself indebted to someone or
other.

The girl hastily put her gloves and helmet on. Her teeth tore at
the seal binding her left glove to her arm gauntlet. Why of all times did it
have to choose now to be stubborn? She felt a rush as the light on her arm
turned green. She reached up and slapped down her visor and closed off her life
support. She emptied the cabin as the bit began to spin, feeling the fan in her
suit spin up to get rid of the sweat and excess heat she'd generated in her
haste. She slapped at her harness release and then climbed out of the chair, as
the bit broke through her cockpit window and the remaining air rushed out.

Had she been in anything other than her venerated and much cursed
upon orange hard suit she would have had the bends, crushed by the sudden
vacuum. Instead, she'd been thrown about the cabin before she'd gotten to the
hatch and plasma cutter she'd stowed there.

"Two can play at that game," she muttered darkly,
reaching for it.

Digs hadn't gotten a good view of her supposed demise, the cock
arm had obscured his view. When he noted the breaching gases though he gave it
a minute, popping a bulb of home made white lightening in celebration. He
grinned a gape toothed grin. His gamble had paid off. Instead of trying to
follow the little bitch he'd let her do all the work for him. He couldn't wait
for the pay off when he got back to port.

It wasn't nice he knew, he just didn't care. They needed all the
people they had, but Senka was a kill or be killed kind of place these days.
Besides, the stuck up bitch deserved it, thinking she was all that. She'd
spurned his advances each time she'd been in port even when he'd loaned her
effing mother money. Stupid. Her mother wasn't that good a lay either! He'd had
her plenty of times and she'd only gotten worse over the years. The last time
she'd just laid there like a dead thing. He'd had more fun out of his rosy palm
and a gig of porn.

When he was sure her cabin was purged he pulled the bit out and
moved the arm. No sense destroying the tug, after all, it too was salvageable.
He'd make a mint off that, far more than the bits the girl had found. There
were the right people out there who were desperate enough not to ask too many
questions. He didn't even have to make it look like a meteorite strike this
time either!

The arm jerked, hung up. He swore, pounding on the controls and
then jigging it. “Come on baby,” he muttered. “I promise an overhaul when we're
done...,” he vowed, knowing he'd forget it in port. He knew it, he knew the
first place he'd go once his cargo was settled was the bar.

The arm moved once more just as he took a second sip and he
sputtered at the empty sight of the cockpit. He wiped at his mouth with the
back of his hand and then used a rag to clean up the mess. "Damn it! Where
the hell did she go? Why do you have to make this so difficult? Just die
already!" he snarled.