Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (98 page)

So
far that project hadn't panned out very well. Only one ship had been found
after several days of searching, and that had been stumbled across by a tug
weeks ago and then confirmed by a shuttle eight days ago before the sensors had
come online. He'd dispatched an automated tug to go pick it up. Of course that
had caused some problems with the council; he hadn't asked for permission and
had been censured for his actions. Again.

Sprite
continued her report. He dragged his mental processes back to the here and now.
"The tug docked with the DB 1701E this morning and is bringing it in now.
Fortunately it's an automated tug, if an organic had been involved..."

Irons
waved a dismissive hand. He knew what she was talking about, the tug was under
power and since no organics was involved it was accelerating beyond what one
could live through in order to get here faster. Still it was pushing a load a
hundred times its own mass. It would take at least a week to get the DB on its
way back. "Yeah yeah, bored to tears. Funny."

"I
was going to say their life support would have run out a long time ago."

"True,"
Irons agreed. He looked at the specs of the yacht. It was a beauty, sleek and
elegant, small but fast. She mixed organic lines with simple triangular shapes.
She had been owned by an Asian conglomerate who had painted her gold, a lucky
color for Asians. That explained the Golden Dew Drop name.

Built
at the height of the Federation in the Sol system yards to handle a class three
hyperdrive with both an antimatter and fusion reactor. She could handle the
upper delta ranges with the right crew.

He'd
initially thought about using her as a courier between here and Pyrax. That was
what she had been in the latter stages of the war after all. But now... now it
just might have to serve as his escape valve. Things weren't going well on the
station and on the planet. Politics were rearing their ugly head once more. It
seemed he couldn't get away from politics and short sighted politicians.

“Dilgarth.
Why did it have to be them?” A blond human tech muttered. He shivered, not at
all happy about being in the same compartment let alone the same station as a
predator like a Dilgarth. He didn't care what Irons and the others said. They
should all be spaced.

“I
was wondering what they were thinking. Oh well, over and done with now. I just
don't understand the end game.”

“Box
and freeze them.” That was what they were doing. The guards and staff were wary
of the damn things and none to gentle when they handled the bodies. They used
rigger tape to secure them and then dumped them in the stasis pods as quickly
as they could. The job was over now but they were still running into a few
babies here and there. Or at least there were persistent stories of babies
still on the station in the ducts and in the sewers.

“No,
I mean the... when they were brought on board. I mean, pacifists with
predators? Vegetarians employing carnivores? Anyone else see a problem?”

“Apparently
not.”

“They
are sentients,” the doctor said projecting her image to be in the room with
them. The crowd fell silent. With her was one of the lawyers. “We thought they
could control their baser urges,” she said. The attorney nodded.

“They
proved that they could before,” the lawyer said. “They did fine for years. It
was only when things broke down...”

“Still,
meat eaters? Where did you get the meat?”

“Synthetic
protein like any good food replicator,” The lawyer answered. Irons couldn't
remember him. The lawyer was normally withdrawn and rarely attended the daily
council meetings. He had signed his proxy over to D'red and spent most of his
time doing briefs or other such nonsense. He was dressed in a formal suit but
had an almost caricature blank face. If he didn't know better it was like the
guy was trying to be nondescript, faceless, just a machine. A cog in the
greater machine. Odd.

“Not
that that didn't cause a lot of problems,” the doctor said with a frown. “They
prefer their food alive.”

“Oh.”
The group shuddered all around. Most of the tribal members nodded grimly; after
all they had experienced it first hand for most of their lives. One of the
greatest mercies was to kill someone who had been caught or cornered by a
Dilgarth pack. If you couldn't save them killing was a mercy compared to being
torn apart slowly and methodically from the limbs into the center.

“The
neural implants kept them in line...”

“Those
are illegal!” Irons said, turning on them. Up until that statement he'd been
largely ignoring them. Letting them ramble, after all it didn't really matter
in the long run. He had started to realize he was sinking into depression and
apathy, going through the motions now. He was fighting it but he was going to
have to do something about it soon.

“And
yet they were used by the government...” the lawyer said looking at the
admiral.

“That's
a little different,” Irons said as the crowd turned its attention on him.
“Those were for prisoners convicted of a crime who were a danger to themselves
or others. Especially those who were incredibly dangerous.” He rarely ever
dealt with prisoners of that nature. His policy was brutal and direct, if they
presented a danger they were put down, hard and fast, with or without a trial.

“And
yet they were still used,” the lawyer said.

The
admiral scowled. “Because the prisoner didn't quite rate an execution. Or they
were mentally disturbed. Or their death would turn them into a martyr for their
cause. We're not all heartless.”

“The
implants were voluntary admiral,” the doctor interjected before the argument
got out of hand. “Purely good will.”

“Good
will? Turning yourself into a meat robot?” Irons asked. Neural inhibitors and
directors were damn scary. He had his own issues when one of the AI took
control of his body, but he had a handle on it. But turning yourself into a
robot that anyone could activate with the flick of a switch? That someone could
sacrifice like a pawn in a game?

“So
with the implants what went wrong? I'd think you could have just shut them
down.”

“The
adults yes. But their young...”

“Oh.
No implants.” Iron grimaced in understanding. Yes, that explained it. It must
have been some battle, throwing the organic robots parents against their young.
Wow.

“No,”
the doctor said sadly.

Irons
winced. “I... see.”

“Yes
it was bad.”

“I...
can use my imagination. I'm betting they have some sort of bitterness there as
well. A cultural meme. I suggest we make a note on that for anyone who picks up
the pieces.”

“They
should be aware of the possibility of bitterness. Yes,” The doctor responded
with a sigh.

Howi
grimaced at Shari as she silently waved to the robot in front of them. They
were supposed to help weld a section of hull in the chamber. It turned out the
chamber was a giant robotic welding and cutting room. That sort of rubbed the
chimps the wrong way.

It
was huge, over a thousand meters easy, and about two hundred meters wide. Both
of the short ends had giant airlocks. It was all one long bay with machines and
robots all over the place. The walls, ceiling and floor had all sorts of
machines, some with rollers some with arms... it was a tangled mess. He ducked,
brushing a giant chain aside. The ceiling was covered in track. Hoists dangled
from chains all over the place. The lights were on but they were pretty dim.

This
was just one room, a full assembly center. There were subassembly rooms
connecting to each of the locks and to small doors along the long walls and
even the ceiling and floor.

“Something
the matter?” Joe the super on duty asked.

“Nah,
just wondering when we'll be out of a job,” Howi said in disgust, looking at
the robots. They were mostly arms but he wasn't fooled. They were idle now, but
for how long? A lot of the welders were muttering about that. Some of the old
hands weren't at all happy about the bots and were passing that on to the new
generation.

Joe
looked over his shoulder. He saw where the chimps were looking and snorted.
“What them? They are for manufacturing. They also require someone to look over
their work too. Come on, let's get this done,” he said, indicating the patch
job. Someone had already tacked the piece back together but hadn't done a
finished weld.

It
was a support for a crane mounted into the wall. Something had torn it up at
one point. There were several hydraulic lifts propping things up. From the look
of things this crane system was the linchpin for the whole works. The metal was
bare where someone else had cut it clean and tacked in a temporary patch. It sucked,
whoever did the job needed to work on their welding.

Which
it obviously needed. The support beam needed to be level and sturdy enough to
handle the load of the crane bearing down on it. The crane had to move
multi-ton pieces of metal across the room from job platform to platform.

“So
what does all this do?” Shari asked.

“Builds
shit. Over and over, whatever it's programmed to do,” Joe said as they used
wire brushes to clean the metal.

Shari
grunted. “Thought that's what a replicator's for?”

“Replicators
are good for some shit but it's easier and cheaper to roll stuff off the
smelters, run them through the mill and fold them then cut them up and weld the
pieces together. You know basic metal stuff. Bulkheads, hull plate, stuff like
that.”

She
blinked. “Oh.”

Joe
smiled. He was still in awe of this place despite being here over two months
now. “There are different replicators. Electronics, general purpose... all
sorts in this place. I'll show you one sometime if we've got time. You'll flip
your lid.”

“Pass,”
Howi said, putting his helmet on and turning the valve on his acetylene tank.
“I heard they got them bugs in there.”

“Nanites.
Robots.”

“So?
Dem's for freaks and geeks. I'll stick to flame.” He held up his torch and
nodded, dropping his helmet just as his flame ignited. “Flame on. Let's do
this,” he growled turning to the joint.

Ezri
danced, excited. She waved to Regina and Sparks. Sparks shook his head at the
womenfolk’s excitement. Her husband slapped him on the chest. “We done here?”
she asked.

Ezri
was a little dynamo of energy, pixie hair covered in a white kerchief and
wearing gray sweats. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. she said she was
ready to clean and move in. He was touched that they had waited until this
moment, when he was finally fit and out of the hospital. Out of rehab. His
hands were back to normal now. Of course it could be because they wanted him to
do most of the grunt work. Typical.

“Looks
like it,” he said. He held his temporary ID card up to the slot. “On three?” he
asked turning to Freeze. A chimp couple nearby didn't wait, they just went in
without a word. Freeze and Sparks ignored them.

“On
three. One... two...”

“Three!”
the girls squealed, dancing. The men smiled, the excitement was a little
infectious. Besides, it was exciting, they just weren't into it like the girls
were. They moved their cards downward in unison. There was a beep and then a
click and a green light.

The
doors clicked and then opened inward with a hush. Ezri brushed him aside as she
dived in, looking around. She turned, fumbling for a light switch.

Roger
came in, dropping the load of bags he had and then turned just as Ezri found a
switch or panel or something. Suddenly he was blinded with light. He turned,
blinking. What he saw amazed him.

Ezri
was breathing in his arms suddenly. He stroked her as he looked. It was indeed
breath taking. They had a beautiful split level apartment, more cubage then
he'd ever seen any one person have other then on the view screen. “Wow,” he
said, hand going out to grip the railing in front of them.

“Wow?
That's all you've got to say? Wow? That's it?” Ezri demanded. Her grip loosened
as she looked around. They were on a landing. Below them was an open concept
floor, all airy and light. The three living zones were distinctively sectioned
off by the furniture though, a couch, rug, and view screen for the living room
area on the far right where the stairs ended, a large metal table and four
chairs with a metal chandelier for the dining area, and a functional kitchen
complete with an island.

To
their immediate left was a balcony path to another set of French doors in the
far left wall. It must have been all of three meters away!

To
their right was a set of stairs down. The stairs like the railing were
industrial, a set of metal pipes and cables. One of the cables was broken but
it was still useable. He knew he could and would fix it later.

“Dude!”
Sparks yelled loud enough for them to hear. Freeze smirked and then wolf
whistled back. Ezri elbowed him.

“Stop
making eyes at the apartment,” she growled. “You're only supposed to do that
with me remember?”