Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (63 page)

“Grew
and grew?” Sprite asked smiling. “You reinvested?”

Doctor
Trask nodded. “It seemed appropriate. I had started another practice on another
world and well... they offered me the same deal twenty years later. And this
time options to stay with the company and join its ranks.”

“Impressive,”
Sprite said smiling to draw the woman out further.

“I
thought so. My husband wasn't impressed. I lost him after the kids were born. I
well... It's old news now.” She dry washed her hands and then stuck them in the
hip pockets of her smock.

“It
helps to get to know one another,” Irons rumbled. He didn't really need her
life story, but something told him letting her talk would be good for her. It
seemed like she hadn't talked to anyone in quite a while.

“I...
I took higher positions to make it easier on myself and my family. I had risen
through the ranks to become a medical administrator. I realized it was easier
to help a lot of people that way.”

“True,”
Sprite said. “More bang for your credit,” she said, giving Irons a look. “Some
people have a hard time laying down the wrench though,” she teased with a
smirk.

“You
can take the man out of the machine shop but you can't keep him out of there
for long,” Irons replied with a half smile. “I understand your point of view
doctor,” he said nodding in her direction.

She
seemed to nod, screwing up her courage. “Like a lot of people the thought of
not growing old and keeping busy led me to this. I had my children; I lost my
husband to a shuttle accident. I wanted to well... continue doing something.”
She spread her hands to indicate the station.

He
nodded, uncertain. “Okay.”

“I
don't have hands to operate but I can teach. I've done that as well. I can... I
can help,” she said quietly. “I want... I want to help,” she whispered.

Irons
suddenly understood and nodded again. “Good,” he said firmly.

“What...”

“Can
you run a medical inventory? Systems, resources, and others. I need to know if
you've got medical implants. Can you make medical nanites? What about
equipment? Can you telepresence using remotes? Do you have any medical records
for the people on the station?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Family
histories? Medical records for various outbreaks?” he asked trying to draw her
out. There had to be something she had, even if it was dated. Reluctantly she
nodded.

“Okay.
Work on the resources and the histories. Come up with a triage plan doctor.
We'll work on it,” he ordered.

“What
about the...”

He
held up a hand. “One step at a time. Triage doc. We'll save the ones we can.
From there we'll build a new future,” he said smiling encouragingly. He felt it
was needed. She hesitantly blossomed into a smile of her own. It was like
watching a flower slowly open. He felt his own smile tug at his lips. The smile
was natural now, not an artificial thing he had started with.

Emily
appeared near his field of view. As her holo stabilized she appeared surprised
and gratified to see the doctor. “Megan!” she smiled in delight. Her eyes were
glad and welcoming. She held a hand out to her friend.

The
medic smiled back timorously. “Time to get back to work,” she said huskily.
Emily nodded as her hand drifted down.

When
she left Emily looked on for a long moment, deep in thought. Finally she turned
to the admiral. “I honestly thought we'd lost her. One of my best friends over
the years. A veritable rock in here. She...” she dashed a virtual tear with her
fingertips. “She is a good woman but even rocks wear down in time,” she said, voice
foggy with surprised tears and sobs.

“True,”
Irons said with a nod, letting her get control of her emotions. Under such
conditions he could see the people in the net slowly going insane or giving up
hope and succumbing to catatonia or committing virtual suicide.

“She
was all but lost, just really going through the motions the past century. There
wasn't anything for her to do. We couldn't treat the gangs and the Dilgarth. I
mean we tried but we could only use aerosols or treat their food. It wasn't
enough. I saw what it was doing to her, grinding away at her... But...” She
smiled hopefully. “Now...”

He
nodded. “Now she has something to look forward to. Something to focus on again.
We'll make it happen.” He was wondering how rusty the doctor was. And how well
she could operate a teleoperated robot. He'd have to find out, but they'd have
to take baby steps.

“Anyway,
I wanted to tell you we've tracked down some of the robots you've requested.
The closest is in the closet nearby. It had been functional but Draco locked it
down so the rest of us can't use it,” she said indicating a closet nearby. He
looked over to the hidden utility closet. Now that he focused on it his sensors
picked up the battery pack of a robot behind the door. It was barely charged.
Great.

“Myers
is digging into the raw material loads. If we can get at least one reactor
up... do you think it's possible?”

“Of
course it is,” Irons said with a nod. “I've done it before. It just takes time
and effort. We'll get it done. Can you run down the specs on the reactors for
me? And do you have any intel on the gangs? Tribes or whatever they are? How
they are organized, families, skills, territories, habits, that sort of thing?”

“I
don't have the data on the reactors, I never knew that part of the station,”
Emily said shaking her head. “There is one functioning reactor, it's at idle
now. Most of the engineering systems have been locked down by Draco so we can't
interfere with them.”

Irons
nodded. That apparently was a good idea, these people were mostly clueless.
There was no telling... but then again was it any smarter to leave an insane AI
in charge of engineering? He thought. “I'll have Sprite look for it then,”
Irons replied.

“Tell
her to be careful! Draco can be viscous,” Emily cautioned, hand out.

“Lovely,”
Sprite said dryly.

“I
can get you what we've observed of the tribes. I really haven't logged much
time there. I think some of the others have, but I don't know if they continued
taking notes after Doctor...” she hesitated.

“Since
your friend retreated. Okay,” Irons nodded.

“We
tried to work with the survivors the first century but one by one they died and
the others either didn't respond to us or avoided us. A couple of our people
did watch them for the second century or so off and on. I think it was some
sort of social observation experiment for them. That's what they called it
anyway. Sid thought it was a soap opera to them. Soap opera or reality show. It
helped anchor a few of us. Sid... I know watching them helps anchor him. He
likes to tell me stories of what this person or that person has done that is
funny or stupid.”

“It's
normal,” Irons smiled. “Humans are social creatures. We share experiences to
keep us sane. Observing them isn't as good, but it helps.”

“True,”
Emily said with a nod. “I'll check on that though for you. Anything else?”

“Can
you coordinate with the Kiev? Perhaps if they hear a new voice it will
encourage the captain to allow some of his people to volunteer to come back
over,” Irons said.

“I
can try, but I don't think it's safe,” she said.

“Try,”
Irons said. He realized her not believing in what she would be saying would
undermine her whole argument. “I'll try to make it safe. We'll try to make it
safe I mean. Together,” he said firmly.

She
nodded, eyes fixed on him. “All right. I will try,” she said. “It would be nice
to see this place alive once more,” she murmured and blinked out.

“Admiral,
about the data...” Sprite said cautiously.

“Pick
up whatever is lying around but don't go fishing too deep. Use a bot system.
Use an indexer as cover. I don't want you tangling with a rogue AI.”

“I'll
have the bot drop things in a remote buffer. Pass it through several filters
and screen it for viruses before I take it in,” she said.

“You
do that. I realize it will slow the data gathering down. Just be careful,” he
cautioned.

“Thank
you admiral, I intend to,” Sprite said, sounding much relieved. He nodded.
Tangling with a rogue AI was difficult. It could very well infect another AI
with its madness. Caution was the order of the day there.

“Admiral,
if you have any hope of repairing this place we need to make it safe. Which
means doing something about the gangs and the Dilgarth. Starting with the
Dilgarth,” Sprite said. She sounded exasperated. Irons could see why. They had
their share of impossible projects before, but this station... wow.

“I
vote we space the lot,” Myers said tiredly. Irons gave the cyber a long look.
Myers shrugged it off. “It was a mistake bringing them on. I don't know what we
were thinking at the time,” he said tiredly.

“We
were thinking expense of course,” Sid said with a sideways smile. “They came
cheap. Apparently too cheap.”

“Security
force?” Irons asked. The two cybers nodded.

“We
paid for their transit here and augmentation.”

“Augmentation...
are they linked?” Irons asked.

“No
no, they had basic implants. No I meant adapting them to this environment and
well... the spine launchers,” Sid said uncomfortably.

Myers
looked away. His jaw was set. After a long moment he blew his cheeks in and out
a few times and then exhaled. It was interesting to see a hologram do that.
“Yeah, not one of my better ideas,” he finally admitted.

“You
think?” Sid asked shaking his virtual head. “Spine launchers and adapting them
to the station. We contracted a Ynari to do the job. Simple really, make the
spine launchers and change their skin to allow them to adapt to the environment
in the station. I didn't know they wanted a chrometophore ability until after
it was approved. That was rescinded of course, the predator laws prevented it.
I think the Fu's were involved in that fight. I was busy with a rich asteroid
and a dispute between subcontractors at the time. I remember they settled on
the corporate colors instead.”

“That
explains that,” Sprite said looking at the admiral. Irons nodded. He'd wondered
about the off white and purple mask and trim.

“Anyway,
they asked that the changes be made permanent so that their prodigy wouldn't
need to be changed if and when they signed on to the corporation. Since it
would save us money in the long run the accountants were on board. And we would
have only a slightly higher up front expense but wouldn't have to reinvest in
the project again so we agreed. Wrote it off in the end.”

“Wrote
it off as a tax rebate you mean,” Sprite said with a sniff. “And the people of
the station have been paying for it every day since.”

“Don't
remind me,” Myers said, wiping his face and mouth with one hand. He turned to
Irons and spread his hands helplessly.

“I've...
we've been paying for it too. The Fu's voted against the idea and have been
beating us over the head with it ever since. It's undermined everything we do,
every argument since. They keep pointing to it as an example of how wrong I
was.”

“Ouch,”
Sprite said.

“We
all make mistakes,” Irons rumbled. “There aren't any easy answers. We do the
best with what we've got and what we know at the time, second guessing this far
out from the time period is pointless. Hindsight is always twenty twenty. The
best we can do is learn from it and move on.”

“Well,
it's been something the Fu's have been beating over our heads for some time,”
Sid said darkly.

“Oh?”

“Yes.
So doing something about them would help.”

“In
other words politics,” Sprite said.

“I
just want to contain them,” Sid replied spreading his hands.

“Not
kill them?” Myers sounded surprised.

“I
vote we space the lot and let the spirits of space sort them out,” Sid said.
Irons however shook his head.

“They
were sentient. Or at least their ancestors were. If we can contain them I'd
prefer it. Medical staff can do something about them someday hopefully. We need
to box them.”

“Box?”
Myers asked.

“Box,”
Irons said, putting his hands out to mime a box. “We're in a box. What we do is
make the box smaller and smaller, driving or luring them into a smaller
containment area.” His hands slowly compressed into a tight container. “That
makes the rest of the station safer to work in. Do we know where their nests
are?”

“Nests?”
Sid asked. For someone who had hired the Garthian's you would of thought he
would have done some research on the subject. Then again he might have
forgotten or overlooked it. Some people were uncomfortable with reproductive
data.

“Garthians
usually lay more than one nest. It's an insurance policy. Programmed into their
genetics I think. Survival instinct,” the admiral explained.