Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (84 page)

“Admiral
Mr. Warner is on the line for you,” Sprite said and then Warner's face appeared
immediately. So much for putting him on hold.

He
held up a finger to Regua before she could keep talking. “Yes Mister Warner?”
he asked, letting the Veraxin know he was talking with someone else through his
implants.

“Admiral
we need you over here for a face to face. The captain...” Warner didn't sound
happy.

“Is
getting antsy?” Irons asked. He sighed. He knew it was coming; he'd picked it
up in the grapevine. So much for the emitters showing the captain what the
station can do... “Okay, I'll see if I can get over there this afternoon.”

“Thanks,”
he said.

"This
station..." The captain seemed awed now that he's gotten a better look at
its specs and finally looked into the replicated emitters. Hearing that the
admiral had squeezed in a lot of parts for Kiev didn't hurt.

"Can
we get anything out of it?" Blur asked. He had hoped to fill the ship's
holds with salvaged goods and equipment to sell. Instead people were flocking
to get over there and little if anything was coming back. It was very
frustrating to him. His requests for salvage had been ignored.

Irons
hid a frown as he looked over to the Telerite cargo master. He still didn't see
the big picture. He didn't want to be here, he wanted to be on the station, but
a face to face meeting with the senior staff of Kiev was long overdue. They
needed to settle things here and now.

"Oh
I'd say loads. Let's say we do a trade?" Irons asked with a smile. He
rubbed his hands together. He felt great. For once a weight was lifting off his
shoulders. He'd felt it sink in ever since he left Pyrax. Now... now Atlas may
yet be unburdened from his heavy duty.

"We?"

"No
wait, let's hear him out," Quinna said amused. "What are you laying
on the table admiral?"

"Let's
say you offer fifty tons of hydrogen and twenty tons of water, food, and raw
materials. Also transportation of one platform to a nearby gas giant. In
exchange we'll replace one system on the ship."

Now
that he had one reactor up and a replicator working he was confident enough to
make the offer.

The
captain blinked. The purser rubbed his jaw. After a moment Quinna cleared her
throat. "When you say one complete system..."

"I
mean a complete replacement. Not a rebuild,” he answered firmly. He indicated
the station. “Take your pick. sublight drives, hyperdrive, electronics,
sensors, life support, shields, reactors, or other. Replacement. Factory new.
Literally. We take the old parts as well for later recycling."

"Um..."
The Telerite blinked. He looked uncertainly to the captain. The captain looked
at the Telerite and tried to hide his annoyance. Blur was usually a good
barterer.

"I
for one like this deal. Can you sweeten it by doing two systems?" Quinna asked.

"If
you throw in a raw material run in system for me," Irons replied with a
smile. "If some more of your passengers volunteer to join the station
we'll even toss in one of the smaller system replacements for free."

"The
fuel..." the purser said looking uncertain.

"I
think the fuel's not an issue is it admiral?" Quinna said, pursing her
lips. He didn't say anything but he had a small smile on his face as he crossed
his arms. She snorted softly, able to read him and know where he was going with
all this. "Let me guess, the platform you want us to haul and set up is a
refinery isn't it?"

He
nodded; amused that she'd picked up on that right away. "Automated
refinery, got it in one. Toss in hauling another and their production back to
the station and we'll provide parts for critical systems. Or another industrial
replicator. I'll even give you the plans to the refinery."

"Oh!"
The purser's eyes finally lit at that. He'd heard about the earlier discussions
of a refinery. He had thought it was a risky gamble but now this was different.
"Why the refinery? Isn't it easier to get materials from Antigua? It has a
lower gravity after all."

The
admiral frowned and then shrugged. The Telerite didn't know better so he'd
educate him. "True, but helium 3 and hydrogen are in higher quantities on
the gas giants. They pick up the solar wind and concentrate it," Irons
explained. The captain nodded, lips pursed. He tapped his fingers on his chin
in thought, eyes distant.

"If
we use straight hydrogen..."

"You'd
be back in the same situation in a century. Even with replaced reactors. We
could replace your reactors with ones that can better handle the radiation, but
helium 3 is a better option. It gets you more bang for your credit."

“Reactors?
Plural?” the captain asked, finger tapping on the desk as he looked intently to
Irons.

“Yes.
Full replacement if that's the system you choose.” He thought for a moment then
shrugged. “Just the reactors, EPS conduits are separate.”

“Back
to this fuel issue,” the cargo master said, shooting an apologetic look to the
captain. The captain didn't mind, he was stunned and still digesting what the
admiral had just said. “I'm confused,” Blur admitted.

"Okay,"
Quinna said nodding. She gave the Telerite a patient look. "See, helium 3
as fuel gives us four times the power to fuel ratio over straight
hydrogen."

"Can
our systems handle it?" the captain asked. "The additional power I
mean."

O'Mallory
shrugged. "We can either step down to compensate, or rebuild, or replace
the plasma conduits captain."

"Timeline?"
the exec asked. “We need to be in Centennial by the harvest or we'll get the
dregs. If we're too late the produce will be worthless.”

"It
depends on how fast I can get the systems online," Irons admitted. “I've
got one class five reactor, two class two industrial replicators, one class
three, and four small class one industrial replicators up. The cybers are
working on the computer net but it's well... bad.”

"This
station... It's like Anvil right?" O'Mallory asked.

"Oh
no," he laughed, shaking his head. "Anvil was a pre-processing node
for a station like this. A small class four pre-processing node. Anvil has six
class five reactors. This station has a dozen class
seven
reactors,
sixteen
class five reactors, and three
antimatter
plants. Anvil has six class
four industrial replicators, this station has class ten replicators as well as
class eight, six, class five and class four replicators. Dozens of them and
dozens of smaller replicators. Plus dedicated forges, machine shops, stamping
presses, the whole works."

"Wow.
Seems like overkill," Quinna said eyes wide.

"Well,
put it this way. Fully operational, a crew of a hundred thousand, fully fueled,
and stocked with materials this station can rebuild your ship in one twenty
four hour period. That's a
complete
rebuild of every major system, as
well as a repair of the hull and frame. A full skin job would take another
day,” Sprite said proudly.

Quinna
whistled at that, eyes wide. "Wow."

"I'll
say," the cargo master said.

"Now
say if you want a replacement ship. That would take..." Irons grimaced
trying to do the math. Sprite helpfully projected the answer for him on his
HUD. "About ten standard days after a docking slip was built. That would
take about a week."

"That's...
that's insane," the Telerite replied, shaking his head in wonder.

"It's
an El Dorado," the captain breathed finally catching on. El Dorado for the
legendary city of gold. Everyone who has lived after the Xeno war had dreamed
of finding one, and here it was right there in front of them. Battered but
functional. With Iron's help it would restore everything. For the first time he
realized just how life changing that station and this man was.

Irons
nodded. "Exactly. With this station fully operational you can rebuild an
entire star system to full luster. Full
old
Federation luster. The
entire sector would follow through within a decade or two."

"Oh
baby," the exec said smiling and rubbing his hands.

"Right.
You've got excess crew and passengers. Your ship is a bulk carrier, designed to
transfer goods to stations like this. I think we can do business."

The
captain pursed his lips again and stared at the admiral for a moment. "By
that I take it you're staying admiral?"

"Yeah,"
Irons said with a smile. "I can work with this," he said nodding
firmly. “This fulfills one of my essential variables I need to restart
civilization. It's also a key element I need to hold off the pirates. Yeah, if
everything works half as well as I hope, yes I'll stay.”

Sprite
had her virtual hands full managing the civilian AI and the growing net. Some
of the dumb AI that had been found safe, but one was found insane and had to be
dealt with. She was of course upset about that. The other AI were as well but
think she handled it well, not understanding how deeply affected she was by the
whole process of terminating the AI. Fortunately it is a dumb AI, one of the
many legal AI that had been a part of the system.

So
far to date that had successfully recovered and restored Thalia and Urania.
Thalia had been re-purposed from a comedy entertainer to an engineer managing
fusion reactor two. She still cracked jokes and could be a wise ass but the
organics that worked with her liked her sense of humor apparently.

Urania
was one of the dumb AI responsible for scientific research on the station. She
was now with doctor Myers, eagerly doing the tedious job of cataloging material
and doing the odd jobs he set her upon.

Bits
of Melpone the muse of epic tragedy aka the damage control AI had been found
but were unrecoverable. They were so corrupted she didn't bother trying to read
them; she just deleted them on sight. She'd noted the AI's demise formally for
the record and then moved on. Melpone would have been a great asset in
repairing the station, unlike most of her other sisters. Polyhymnia the muse of
sacred poetry and the religious coordinator of the station had been confirmed
destroyed by Clio and Mnemosyne.

Mnemosyne
was still struggling with her disability. Pieces of her were recovered
occasionally. Sprite watched in envy as each time the AI lovingly wrapped bots
around the piece and then absorbed it into her core. Of course each time she
did she took herself offline to make sure the integration went off smoothly.

Sprite
oversaw each integration, trying to be clinically detached by the whole
process. She judged that her fellow smart AI had been lucky to have been built
as she was, able to function so well with nearly seventy percent of her long
term memory lost.

What
really sucked for her were the dozens of dumb AI still lurking out there somewhere.
Each could be a time bomb waiting to go off anytime someone connected a memory
module or linked one part of the station to another. Calliope and Erato were
still MIA, as were a dozen law, materials, science, and engineering AI. Some
had been little more than bots but a few like the muses were borderline smart
AI. She wondered what had happened to them and shivered internally. To not know
was bad enough, it meant they could be found at anytime and may be as insane as
some of their fellows. She dreaded that, dreaded what damage they could inflict
in their pathetic thrashing... dreaded what she would have to do. What she
would be forced to do to protect herself and others. Putting them down was a
mercy for them and for the safety of the station but she refused to ever
like
the job.

She
eventually turned to Irons for comfort and support during a brief talk. The
admiral listened soberly, quietly letting her get it out of her system.

As
she talked she realized her empathy for the other AI and her talking about the
situation with the admiral was a coping mechanism to get over her own problems.
It certainly put it all in perspective at any rate. It also made her feel a
little petty over her earlier behavior. What Mnemosyne did with her pieces...
she cradled them like a lover or parent holding a child... she mourned each
missing fragment but she didn't let the loss stop her from continuing with her
purpose. Mnemosyne had entire
years
ripped from her core yet she still
functioned, she still found ways to contribute however small. Sprite had a
handful of seconds. She'd have to take the time to meditate over the situation
when she had the free time she vowed.

Irons
smiled softly as she wound down. “It's hard being an officer. People think it's
all glitz and glamour, putting on the uniform means you are ready for the
responsibility. I know. You know now it comes with a heavy burden, one few can
bear. We put on a mask. It's what we do Sprite; we all find ways of putting on
a brave face so others can't see the pain you have inside. It's part of being
an officer,” he told her quietly. “It's part of being a person in charge of
life or death situations.”

His
words resonated with her own officer's training and programming. He is right;
she did have the coding to be an officer. But there was a decided different
between being programmed to be an officer and actually shouldering the job and
following through with it. She'd learned that the first day she'd come online.
This... she wasn't sure she would ever be cut out for independent command.
“Yeah well, it still stinks,” she growled back before disappearing.