Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) (84 page)

"That
you did. My distinguished colleagues were falling all over themselves over
which one to choose. And of course arguing about it and why they should be the
first ones to benefit. I was half expecting a fist fight to break out," he
shook his head.

"You
mean you were hoping," Irons teased taking a sip. The judge chuckled
again.

"As
a fair and impartial man I decline to answer that. It would ruin my unbiased
reputation." Irons chuckled again.

"So,
which way did they jump?" Irons asked after a moment.

"Eh?
Oh, with one of your proposals. Well, all of them actually. Well, all but the
full Dyson sphere." Irons looked up surprised.

"You
are kidding!" he said. "Talk about overkill!" He shook his head.
"Do they have any idea what it will take to do some of those?" he
sighed.

"You
have only yourself to blame for giving them so many different ideas. They are
working out study groups now," Farley grimaced. "I was nominated for
one, I turned it down. Somehow I bet they wont be done until I've got great
grandkids."

Irons
grimaced. "Trying to shuffle you off to some dead end committee
again?" he asked.

"Looks
like it. They want me out of the way. Something is cooking," Farley
replied taking a sip. He hefted a tablet. "Budget proposal. It doesn't take
in your navy work or this terraforming venture," he sighed. Irons
chuckled.

"Well,
we're still in the make the tools to build the tools stage. It will be a while
before we really get into things. Then wait to see how the budget goes."

Farley
laughed. "You are not making it easy on me. I can hear the squeals now
when they get that news." Irons laughed again. "Seriously though,
something is in the wind Admiral, I can feel it. I don't know what they are up
to, but something sneaky is going on." He gave the Admiral a look.
"You are the most likely target."

Irons
sobered. "Yeah, I gathered that. Once the system elections are over I was
planning on falling back on my navy career. Politics are not my thing," he
shrugged taking a drink.

Farley
chuckled. "You could have fooled me!" He shook his head as the
Admiral got up.

"I've
got to check in with Enrique. Thanks for the cognac." He put the glass
down on the bar.

"Any
time Admiral. And Admiral." The Admiral turned. "Watch your
back." Irons nodded.

The
next morning Mr. Genshi was waiting outside his quarters. “Admiral if I could
have a moment of your time..”

“I'm
rather surprised you got through security Mr. Genshi. Or is it doctor?”

“Ah...”

“How
long have you studied terraforming? Two decades I think you said.”

“Yes
it's really been my life's work,” he thrust his hands into his coat pockets.
Irons waved for him to proceed him. “I was really looking forward to the
renaissance terraforming a world would bring to our system.”

“It
still will doctor. The idea is on hold for the moment. It isn't dead.”

“Yes
but we really must start the ground work now for a project of such epic
proportions.”

“Doctor,
tell me, did you ever explore other alternatives?” Irons asked. The doctor
blinked at him. “I take that as a no?”

“Um.”

“Right,
no,” Irons sighed shaking his head at the narrow mind thought processes some
people locked themselves into. “Look doctor there are other tricks you can
employ to further your goals while laying other avenues open to explore. You
never want to back yourself into a corner and not have any sort of escape
plan,” he smiled. “I know it sounds trite, but we in the military always have a
plan B.”

“But
if you never fully commit to something it will never come true!” the doctor
said looking surprised as he stopped and held Irons’ arm desperately. “See this
is the problem, a singular lack of vision. But coming from you of all people!”

“Doctor,”
Irons laughed. “I'm sorry,” he said as the doctor reared back. “Look Doc, there
are... a lot of things people do not know about me. For one I, like any good
military commander; like to keep my options open. And I always have a backup
plan.” He nodded as a pair of ensigns saluted as they passed.

“Doctor,
look into some of the alternative methods of terraforming. Either start with a
core world, such as a moon and go from there, or see about using a more... um
brute force method that is simple.”

“In
other words follow the KISS principle,” Sprite said over the overhead. They
both looked up then Irons nodded as the doctor looked back to her.

“Right.
For instance if you started with a moon with the right mass and position, what
would happen if you bombarded it with comets and asteroids? In such a way that
they add delta velocity to it to change its orbital characteristics? And not to
mention adding those water volatiles to it's atmosphere?”

“Um...”
the doctor looked confused.

“And
if say, you have container systems to trap the heat and ejecta around the moon,
that would speed things up.. and if you use grasers to melt things or solar
mirrors...”

“I
see...” the doctor nodded suddenly rubbing his chin in thought. His eyes lit in
thought. “All this, all of it could be done with what we have now though!” he
shook his head. “The time we've... I've wasted.”

“Not
necessarily doctor. You've spent a few decades learning everything you can. The
thirst for knowledge should never be quenched. Now it's time to apply what you
know you can, and fudge what you can't.”

“The
vectors... and to find a suitable candidate...” the doctor stumbled away eyes glazed.

“He's
gone,” Sprite said, sounding amused. “It's funny how you organics can get into
single minded thought tracks like that. Hopefully he doesn't run into a
mugger.”

“Yeah,
hilarious.”

“He
couldn't see the moon for the planet.”

“Cute.
Appropriate but cute. Now about that appointment?”

“Right,
ah, briefing room eight Admiral,” she said. “Departure for the Bismark
expedition is in two hours admiral.”

“Then
we'd better hurry. I don't want to miss it.”

"Damn!"
Logan said, studying the battered wreck. The battleship was torn, both flanks
were peppered with rips and blast holes going decks deep and wide. Her notched
bow was blackened, someone had cut out her sensors and communications array a
long, long time ago and hadn't been very careful about it. Most of her
antiquated radiation sails were wrapped around her like torn blankets. Her
engines were dead, the thruster nozzles were chewed up like colanders.

"Looks
like Swiss cheese," Shelby moaned softly.

The
battleship was from a previous era. Her radiation sails were designed like
folding sails, when deployed they would have made the craft look like an old
Terran angel fish or a ship from the days of ocean wind travel. Modern ships
had more efficient ways of dealing with excess heat and neutrons. Her port side
was ripped and gouged, blast damage peeked out under the torn sails. During her
last battle her fusion reactor had gone into overload and had had to be
scrammed. She had ejected the reactor but it had rebounded off a torn sail back
at the craft, tearing that huge hole and buckling the armored skin on that side
when it had exploded. Shelby traced delicate fingers over the holo.
"Goddess the frame damage alone..." she murmured dismayed.

"Yeah,
but think of her rebuilt with modern gear on our side," Janice said
softly. Shelby looked over to the helms woman. Janice blushed then shrugged.

"It's
still going to be a lot of work. Are we sure it will be worth it?" she
asked. “I mean I know we spent three days getting here, but still...” her eyes
turned in dismay back to the derelict. “Wouldn't it be easier and cheaper to
start from scratch?” she asked eyes going to the Admiral. Irons shrugged.

"We'll
know soon enough. Preliminary survey teams are deploying now," he pointed.
Shuttles and robotic probes were launching from Firefly. Shelby turned to
Captain Mayweather who smiled.

"We
can't stand here all day staring at her and feeling sorry for ourselves over
the scope of the project," the captain said shaking her head. “We've got
other irons in the fire.”

Irons
chuckled. "She's right, let's get going." He waved to the lock.

"Admiral,
just a minute, let's let the robots and survey team check for traps,"
Mayweather cautioned. Irons grimaced then nodded reluctantly. Logan grunted.

"We
drop in a modern AI, power plant, drives, shields, weapons, sensors, a new
skin, the works... she'll be a whole new ship," he said softly.
"Where do you think we should start?" He turned to the Admiral.

"If
she's worthy, we'll get the crew to clear the debris and start stripping her
down on the way back to the station. From what I've accessed on this ship class
she's a turtle. She's got so many compartments and structural members she can
take one hell of a pounding, which is why I'm even considering this act of
salvage at all. We'll have to fix the frame and hull damage. Once she's down to
bare metal then we can fix what needs fixing and then rebuild from the power
plant and drives out," he shrugged.

"New
weapons and power plant mean new conduits. The old ones can't keep up and we
can't trust them to do so," Shelby muttered. Irons nodded.

"New
sensors, new electronics, it's going to be a major task," he said.
"Best get to it."

Shelby
watched the work parties tearing into the battered ships. Each was lit by
lights from the skeletal gantry truss surrounding them. The Admiral called it a
cradle. She and others thought of it as a docking slip or drydock. Structural
bars ran to the ships to keep them stable in the dock. It had taken nearly a
month to get the battleship back to port. Twenty three long boring days. She
softly whistled as a giant piece of a radiator came free, tumbling as a torch
cut its last link. "I bet someone's going to catch hell over that,"
she murmured.

"They'd
better." She turned to see her father and the Admiral behind her. Logan
nodded to the view port. The tumbling radiator smashed itself against the hull,
crushing a robot. Shelby winced. It rebounded off and hit a work pod sending it
tumbling.

"Damn,"
the Admiral muttered.

"What
a circus huh?" Logan said sighing. "They should have secured it
before cutting it free." He shook his head.

"Work
pod was late," Irons winced. “I bet the cutter was only supposed to cut
most of the way through then wait for it's arrival but got impatient.” Sprite
was feeding him some of the communications chatter. It was a mad house. A
supervisor bellowed over the line and then it was quiet. She snarled out orders
and then things began to pick back up. Search and rescue teams were already
deploying.

"I
hear that there is a group, the Pyrax Historical and Preservation Society that
is trying to stop us?" Shelby turned to the Admiral and her father.

"First
I heard of it," Irons said. He turned to Logan who was still looking out
the view port.

"They
served me a stop injunction this morning."

"On
what grounds?" Shelby asked laughing.

"They
want the battleship and other ships preserved or returned to their original
state and turned into museums," he sighed shaking his head. The radiator
swung close to their port. OMS fire from a tug was their only warning of it
before it hit the piece sending both off on a new vector. Logan and Shelby
ducked instinctively when a shredded beam came within a meter of the port.

"Damn
that was close. A little too close," she said softly getting up. She
tugged at her jacket hem.

"That
it was," Logan growled.

"They
filed an injunction?" Irons asked. "Obviously you didn't pass this on
to me or heed it," Irons waved.

"I
ran it by Judge Farley since he's the new chief justice. He tossed it
out," Logan said then closed his eyes.

"Implants
still giving him problems?" Irons asked Shelby quietly.

"Sometimes,"
Logan answered before his daughter could.

"All
right, the section super and that work party will be in after shift for a tail
wringing." He opened his eyes and turned to the Admiral. Irons nodded.

"Wait,
back to these historical nuts, they want us to return the battleship? Firefly?
All of them? Are they nuts?" she asked amused.

Irons
and her father laughed. "Before the war we usually agreed to those
requests when we could, Especially when a ship was up for scuttling or about to
be sent to the breakers for salvage," he grimaced.

"We
are pretty partial to ships Shelby. When you live on one, it forms a tight
community." Irons nodded to Logan who gave a short choppy nod. His face
was a little red. “They take on a life of their own.”