Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) (38 page)

"New?"
Casey asked in disbelief. "So it's true? The replicators are working and
there really are pirates coming?" she asked staring. Irons grimaced.

"Right
on both counts. Unfortunately," Irons sighed.

“What
are we going to do?” she asked suddenly anxious.

“We're
going to use your dad's ship to get a derelict and put it into service,” he
replied.

"Admiral,
Doctor Thorby rescheduled a rejuv job for tomorrow to make an opening,"
Sprite interrupted.

The
Admiral's eyebrow rose. He looked at the ceiling. "That was fast, what
brought the change of heart?" he asked.

"What?"
Casey asked confused.

"I
sort of put in that it was important," Sprite reported. Irons nodded.

"Now?"
he asked.

"In
an hour," the AI reported. Irons nodded and looked over to them.

"Sorry,
implant communications. The doctor just bumped someone to make an opening for
you. She says she will see you in an hour." He looked over to the captain
who nodded. "I tell you what, why don't you change and we'll pick up a
snack along the way." He straightened. Casey stiffened.

"I
can replicate a new coverall if you need," Irons said softly. He tapped
the controls. In a minute a fresh coverall was in the opening. He took it out
and handed it to the captain.

"It's
a temp job. Good longer lasting ones need a textile replicator or tailor,"
Irons explained.

"How
did you do that?" Casey asked. "I thought it only did food," she
said, confused.

Irons
smiled. "They can do a lot of things if you know the coding tricks or can
bypass the software walls. I know both." He shrugged.

"She's
a large Admiral," Sprite said.

"Want
one?" he asked as her father struggled to get up, then limped into another
room to change.

She
cleared her throat. "Yeah."

He
nodded. "Sure, coming right up."

 

Irons
led them past the wary corridor gang then through the vagrant sections and to
the lift. "Deck one," he said.

"I
ain't been there in years," Gutierrez said softly.

Irons
nodded. "It's under new management. The Port Admiral quit."

Casey
smiled. "I heard that you’re in charge now." 

Irons
nodded. "For now. Once this crisis is over we're going to set up a system
government." He felt the lift bump then the doors opened. A guard looked
at them.

"Not
more ragamuffins," he muttered. Casey scowled blackly. The guard looked at
Irons and got out of the way. Quickly. Irons pulled her out of the lift and
away before she could say something.

"This
way." He led them to a sandwich shop. "Reggie, can you fix us up?
We're on a time crunch.”

The
proprietor came out wiping his hands. "For you Admiral, sure thing."
He looked over to the Gutierrez family. "Who are your friends?" he
asked.

"This
is Captain Gutierrez and his daughter Casey. The captain is going to help us in
this crisis. He has a date with Doc Thorby in a half hour so we decided to stop
for a bite." He shrugged not willing to admit it was most likely the first
real bite to eat any of them had probably had all day, let alone for several
days from the look of the Captain.

"Captain
eh? Of the yacht?" Reggie asked slicing a loaf of bread. Gutierrez looked
confused.

"No,
he's an inner system captain. Sub-light tender Betsy Lu Anne," Irons
smiled. "Your wife?" He turned to Gutierrez who nodded. His daughter
rested her hand on his right arm.

"Here
you go Admiral." Reggie handed a sub to each of them. "Charge it to
the station as usual right?" Reggie asked with a smile.

"You
got it," Irons smiled. He led the two over to an outdoor cantina area. He
pulled out a chair for Casey, then another for himself and her father.

"Nice,"
Casey said looking around. Irons nodded. The captain was already digging in. He
had put on a hat to cover his burned head. He looked embarrassed.

"I'm
sorry captain, if you're uncomfortable..." Irons felt a pang of remorse
when he noticed the looks they were getting from the other patrons.

"Makes
no never mind," the captain said between bites. "Be gone soon. Good
to shake the blighter's up a bit anyhow. If they got a problem with me they can
shove off." Irons smiled.

"You
tell em daddy," Casey said smiling in approval.

 

"Well,
you sure know how to pick them." The doctor sat back in her chair with a
weary sigh. She picked up her glasses and put them on. Irons gave her a look.
"What?" she asked looking up from the tablet.

"Glasses
Doc?"  he asked amused.

"Oh
these?" She laughed as she took them off and looked at them then put them
back on. "Reading glasses. I never took the time to get my eyes
treated." She shrugged.

Irons
chuckled. "Well, they say doctors make the worst patients..."

She
looked up, mouth puckering. "Oh shut up," she said then laughed.

"So,
is he going to live?" he asked.

"He's
a mess. By rights he should have died off a long time ago." She shook her
head. "He's a wonder. From what I can tell he's a descendant of a genie, I
was just about to look up his record. He's definitely some descendant, a normal
human would have died from that." She shook her head. Irons nodded.

"I've
got him on antibiotics, pain relievers and dermal regenerators. The scar tissue
is pretty extensive, It will take multiple baths to sort that out." Irons
nodded.

"He's
a candidate for the implants when you’re ready. First customer," the
Admiral said. She looked surprised. The Admiral shrugged. "He insisted.
Since you’re going to be tinkering with him anyway..." He shrugged. She
smiled.

"Now
that's incentive," she chuckled, then spun her chair left and right
several times. "He's got a healthy immune system. The antibiotics are to
flush out anything that got by it. We'll keep him on the antibiotics and anti
rejection treatments to keep his system clean while we do the repairs. The
dermal grafting is a given, but you're right, the eye and limbs..." She
shook her head. "I can't do anything like you Admiral."

Irons
chuckled. "I wasn't intending on asking. Cloned limbs and organs will
work. Nanite weave. The nerve grafts are admittedly extremely tough to get
right, even with nanotech. But if you could work in a rejuv and a basic
civilian grade implant..." he suggested. She picked up a stylus and tapped
it against her lips for a moment.

"Maybe.
I think I could do the basic ident implant tomorrow. That seems pretty straight
forward, just a nanite pill properly programmed. I heard about it when I
visited Io. The transceiver though..."

He
shrugged. "So start small, then grow. One step at a time. Don't get bogged
down by the over all picture."

“Build
off small successes,” she nodded. "Right, well, I'm keeping him over
night. Casey is an electronics tech, I'm going to keep her busy fixing
equipment since we can't seem to get much help." She gave Irons a look. He
shrugged.

"I
can take a stab at it if you want," he offered. She grimaced.

"No,
we need you rebuilding that ship damn it." She shook her head. "Go,
before I change my mind." He chuckled as he left.

"They'll
be ready by eight am!" she called as he entered the corridor. He waved as
he left.

 

He
waved at Casey as he passed her. She was tinkering with a bed while looking at
the schematic on a tablet. "Damn, chip must have been... no, looks like
ah... ah... aha!" He smiled as he left her. Work was the best thing for
her, it kept her close to her dad but distracted and busy. That way she didn't
have to worry as much.

"It
looks like she is having fun Admiral," Sprite said. "I've received
word from Angie and Logan, the parts are in the dock.” Irons nodded.

"Let's
get to work then," he said.

"Think
you can get in?" Sprite asked.

"Sure.
Anything built by man can be taken apart. How did he get in. I mean, when he
last used the ship, did he get in through the lock?"

"Funny
you should ask, no. In fact he got in through an exterior airlock," Smithy
replied. The Admiral turned to the avatar. Several people milling around
paused.

"Huh.
Wanna bet he welded the lock shut from the inside, depressurized the cabin then
got out through a hatch?" Irons asked.

"In
his condition? Admiral he was pretty tore up. I'm not sure the suit could have
had integrity, and moving around in that cabin..." Sprite said. Irons
shrugged.

"Don't
under estimate the human spirit. Or in this case pure cussedness. Besides, do
you have a better theory?" he asked. The AI were silent.

"Didn't
think so. I'll make a stop by the Valdez compound and pick up my skin
suit." He nodded politely then continued on his way.

 

“What
the devil is going on here?” The gutter voice hollered. Work stopped as people
turned.

“Looks
like Captain Gutierrez slipped through the Doc's clutches,” Sprite said,
sounding amused. “It only took him a shift. Shocking.” So much for having some
lead time without the Captain breathing down their necks Irons mussed. Then
again he couldn't blame the man for wanting to supervise.

“You
could have warned me,” the Admiral sighed getting up. “Coming.” He made his way
to the lock. Gutierrez met him there.

“Admiral,
what the hell do you think you’re doing to my Betsy?” the battered old man
snarled, leaning against a crate. A tech gave him a dirty look as she darted
around him, lifting a control panel she was carrying up to squeeze by.

“Fixing
her. Among other things,” Irons turned. “Care to have a look?” he asked,
turning around.

“What
did you do?” Gutierrez asked looking around uncertain.

“See
for yourself,” he pointed. Gutierrez looked around. His skin was clean, the
scars were shiny. His missing left eye was covered in a patch giving him a
rakish look. His good eye darted around the cab in a clockwise path, checking
each and every centimeter.

“Skin
itches,” he muttered as he limped through the lock and into the cabin. The fire
blackened cabin had been cleaned and rebuilt in his absence. He muttered for a
moment about trespassing then sat in the new chair. There was a hiss as air
escaped from the piston.

“The
chair is courtesy of a leather upholstery place here on the station. It may
take a bit to get used to,” the Admiral cautioned. “They made some cut outs for
your suit using the old chair as a template. There are pillows that can be put
in place to fill in the voids when you’re not suited.”

Casey
stuck her head in the cabin. “Now that's all right!” she grinned looking
around. “Full repair?” she asked. Irons shook his head.

“We're
on a time crunch. We cloned and rebuilt her electronics with new, it will take
a little while before they settle in and integrate properly. I've got the AI
running sims to help that along. We've rebuilt her drive train, I pulled her
reactor core and we swapped in a new one. Her shields, impeller wedge, and
tractors are being rebuilt now.” Irons stood back leaning against a bulkhead.

“What
about your launch?” Casey asked. “I heard it's not ready?”

The
Admiral smiled. “Most of the work had been done, It just needed to be
integrated and a few parts added. I did a little, Sergio did some, and I had to
redo a few things.” He grimaced. Casey hid a laugh with a cough. Her father was
running his hand on the arm rest. “The Logan's are finishing her up now. In
fact Sergio is taking her out for the first test run in a half hour if all goes
according to plan,” he waved.

“You
don't expect me to make the run right off do ya?” Gutierrez growled. “With
factory new parts?” The Admiral shook his head.

“I'd
prefer you do one or two test runs around the station to let things stabilize,”
he replied. “We've got new suits and some gear for Firefly being manufactured
now. Hopefully they will be done in time.”

“Thought
we were in a hurry?” Casey asked. Her father gave her a look.

“You
are not going,” her father said not looking at her. She turned on him.

“But.”

He
held up a finger. “No. My final word on it. I can risk my tattered carcass. I
am NOT, I repeat NOT, going to risk my one and only daughter.”

Irons
looked away. “Casey, I've got a hole in electronics anyway. Horatio would like
you to fill it if you think you can. Doc also asked for you. She said you did a
good job working for her.” She looked at him swallowing her pride.

“I
know how important this is. It still sucks,” she said, shoulders slumping. The
Admiral smiled in sympathy. “Don't worry, once we get Firefly back, I promise
you'll get a tour. Both of you.” He bowed to them. Casey nodded.

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