Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) (31 page)

“I'm not all Machiavellian Sprite. There is some measure to it to
be sure,  I am after all a Flag officer. We do try to see the strategic picture
along with the tactical one. Sometimes attending to the tactical needs, however
small, may make an effect in the future if handled properly.”

“I see,” Sprite said. “What bothers me is that you never mentioned
it to me.”

The admiral smiled, she definitely sounded a little put out over
that. “Not in so many words no, but I figured you'd catch on. I wanted your
reactions to be natural Commander. The more you promoted my image the more
damage it could do. It would seem like I was doing it on purpose.”

“Which you are.”

“But not self-promotion. Let the people do that. We've got more
important things to do.”

“Ah,” Sprite replied, clearly amused.

“You can't control what people think or say about you. But if you
do good, then it will interest them to think about it, and hopefully in a
positive way. Pay it forward.”

“There are skeptics out there admiral. And people like in Pyrax
and Antigua ready to tear you down. Organics tend to tear their heroes down to
show that they have flaws.”

“True,” the admiral replied grudgingly. “That is ever the problem
with famous people, and especially of heroes. The want to lower them to your
level because trying to raise yourself to theirs is too hard. But again, I
didn't aspire to this, I just did it. I'll continue doing it until something
better comes along. And even when it does, I'll probably still help out where I
can.”

“Which is admirable Admiral,” Sprite replied.

“Yeah, try saying that last bit three times fast,” the admiral
replied with a bit of whimsy. “I'll keep doing what I'm doing. Right now there
is no other path,” he said again, this time softer, mostly to himself.

“Hopefully something will come up soon sir,” Sprite replied,
equally soft.

“It'd better. I don't know how much more time we've got on our
hands before something over in Horathian space breaks the wrong way for us,”
the admiral growled as he looked down at a triangle of birds flying under the
air car.

...*...*...*...*...

Perry White green lit a story when Cat heard about Irons arrival
and did enough research to have a fairly solid and coherent piece. He had heard
enough from other sources to confirm she was correct, Irons was indeed on their
world running loose unsupervised. The story detailed the admiral's problems in
Pyrax. It was made to sound on the fence, a bit of 'guard your kids from the
monster in our midst' with 'innocent until proven guilty'.  Perry wasn't
pleased about not having a lot of facts and images to go with the piece, but he
ran it since it was a slow news day.

When Jerry Richards found out about it he was furious. He spotted
the headline as he came to the front of the paper's brick building and paused
before he grabbed a copy and read it. The kid behind the counter protested so
he tossed him a coin and then turned and stormed into the building, clearly
fuming.

The run up the stairs didn't dampen his rage. He slammed through
the door on his floor and then looked around. Perry was in as usual so he
turned and started to his office. Perry just so happened to be looking out his
window and caught Jerry's set expression. That warned him that something was up
with the normally affable reporter. Jerry stormed into his boss's office with
his copy of the paper, he slammed the door behind him and then waved the
article and demanded an immediate retraction as he slammed it down onto Perry's
desk blotter.

Perry looked down at the headline in confusion. “What's wrong with
it?” he asked.

“What's wrong with it? What's wrong with it?” Jerry snarled,
pacing. “Where do I begin! How about the Knox news piece we've got over the
past two years? Remember that? The video? We ran it on the news channel. You
stripped the audio out for the radio piece!”

“Um...”

“Irons. The guy in the piece. Hang on,” he snarled, turning. He
jerked the door back open and then stormed to his desk. He kicked a chair aside
and knocked over a pile of papers but didn't care. He grabbed the microcomputer
thingy Irons had given him and came back.

By this time his show of anger had attracted the attention of
others in the room. He stormed back into Perry's office and plugged the little
black device into the chief's precious video screen. The thing was ancient, but
it still worked.

White started to object but Jerry ignored it. He went over to the
chief's blotter and pulled out the keyboard and tapped out an inquiry.

“What are you doing?”

“Showing you this,” Jerry said. “Remember? A picture is worth a
thousand words boss?” he asked. People were coming slowly to the door. He
turned the volume up and then crossed his arms as the video played.

White and the others watched the video play out. It wasn't long,
Jerry played the original piece and then the take from Knox news. No one said a
word as both videos played out. Finally all eyes turned to Perry. White was
taken aback and red, a clear indication that he was furious.

“Get me IT! Get someone to take that blasted website down and pull
that paper!” Perry snarled, eyes smoldering as he looked at Richards. Richards
nodded. He knew his bosses reputation as a straight arrow, it was one of the
few things he loved about his job, working for someone who had honor and balls.
This was Perry's fault as much as Cat's, Cat for bringing up such trash and not
doing proper research, Perry for not doing the same and looking into what his
own people had reported previously.

There weren't many computers on the planet, but there was a small
internet. It used the phone lines to transmit data. Most of it was for
governmental purposes, but White had set up his own network to feed satellite
presses in other cities to aide in distribution. Major stories would be
inputted in the A section, with local stories and other material printed in the
B and other sections.

“Hold the presses!” Perry ordered at full bellow before he hit the
intercom on his desk. “This is White, hold the presses! Hold all distribution!
I want everyone to yank today's edition now! Someone get out there and get the
things off the street! I mean
now
! Printing we're going to do a special
retraction edition! Get set for that!”

He turned looking around. “Anyone know where Cat is?” he growled.
The group of reporters and newsmen and women shook their heads silently no.
“Someone find her. I'll kick her ass!” he growled. “Richards, what are you
doing just sitting there! Get on the retraction story now! You,” he pointed to
a junior reporter. “Drop whatever you're working on and get IT to link this to
the site. You,” he pointed to an assistant. “Get over to broadcast, I want them
in on this too. I don't like dragging anyone's name through the mud that didn't
deserve this so get on it!” He yelled, face turning a deeper red.

“Richards,” he turned on Jerry. Jerry was heading to the door.

“I'm going chief,” Jerry said, pushing people out of his way to
get to his desk. “I'll need the source though to quote from!” he said over his
shoulder.

“You can have it when I'm done with it!” Perry growled. He shut
the intercom off and then picked the phone up and hit the speed dial. He
bellowed to get the paper off the street now. “Not tomorrow right now! We're
printing a retraction so quit selling the damn things!” he snarled to the
flabbergasted market guy before he hung up on him. It was already too late to
halt the copies that had been sent to other cities across the globe.

Jerry was surprised and gratified that his boss was so upset about
it, and so into getting the record straight. “See, this is why I don't like
running with gossip,” White growled. He fumed at the still missing Cat.

“Was that one of Cat's pieces?” Jerry asked, putting the
retraction piece on his boss's blotter.

“Yes,” Perry replied in disgust. He ran a hand through his silver
hair. Cat would be lucky to be writing dog obits if Perry had anything to say
about it. “I thought it was a good piece, she had Jimmy with her but they
couldn't get a shot of him. He's off somewhere.”

“I know boss.”

“Well find out. And while you're at it find out about this guy
going around doing stuff. Good deeds and weird shit,” Perry said, holding up
the assignment form.

“Weird in what way boss?” Jerry said, taking the assignment warily
and looking at it. He was fairly certain who his boss meant but didn't want to say
anything just yet. Besides, he might be able to milk it further.

“Some guy has been going around making changes to the various
towns. A lot of stuff going on in Hazard. But there are also weird stories of
some guy who dry lifted some weight with one hand. Another story in Hazard of a
guy who tossed an elephant biker a hundred feet if you can believe it.”

“Same guy?” Jerry asked.

“I'd like you to find that out,” Perry grunted. “And look into
something about the coastal communities. There have been some changes there
too.”

“That's a lot of ground to cover boss,” Jerry warned him.

“Take Samantha. I'd give you Jimmy but he's out with Lois and
Clark,” the chief growled. His own sources told him the young lad had gotten
entirely too chummy with the wrong crowd in Hazard. That bothered him, bothered
him a lot. It didn't bode well for the lad's career if he kept that up. His
career or his life for that matter. He made another note to keep the kid away
from Hazard and Gotham.

“Samantha?” Jerry asked.

Perry made a brushing motion. “New Greenhorn. Show her the ropes
while you're at it.”

“Gee thanks chief,” Jerry replied dryly. “Usual drill with
expenses?”

“I'll write you a note,” White growled.

...*...*...*...*...

Sprite caught the article about the admiral as she got the daily
news feed from Phoenix. She was immediately furious. She showed the article to
the admiral as he drank his coffee.

“See?” she demanded. She was sorely tempted to craft a virus and
bomb the native's media network. It would serve them right.

“I know Commander. There isn't much we can do about it but combat
rumor with the truth. But you can't make people see reason, nor can you make
them see the truth.”

“This is a homily of you can lead a horse to water but can't make
it drink?” Sprite asked with a dyspeptic snort.

“Something like that,” the admiral replied. Sprite blinked as she
noted the change in the feed. It was incredibly slow, less than a hundred
kilobytes per second. Maddening really, but it was all she had.

“Well, something is up, the article just came down off the
server,” she reported after a moment.

The admiral opened his mouth to ask if she'd done it but she held
up a restraining virtual hand. “No, I didn't do it. Someone in house did. There
is a place holder page there now, a retraction page,” she reported. The holder
page was sweet and to the point.

“See?”

“It could mean they are digging for more?” Sprite asked, playing
devil's advocate.

“Or they changed their minds when they realized the source
material wasn't credible. I'm curious if Mr. Richards had a hand in things.”

“Checking...” Sprite said. Slowly she smiled and then nodded. “Yes
indeed he did. I see that he accessed the vid feed of the incident several
times, most recently twice today.”

“Ah, so he may have shown it to someone else,” the admiral said
with a nod.

“Quite possible. He also copied the file and sent it to other
servers,” Sprite replied. “And it's still transmitting even now, which is why
the free bandwidth on the net is next to nothing.”

The admiral nodded. “Understandable using dial up. The video....
it could possibly be for video release or to cover his backside,” the admiral
mused. “Either way, you see what waiting and seeing can accomplish? Give the
people the facts and then sit back and let them draw their own conclusions.”

“As long as they don't color it with their own bias and or try to
use it for their own means,” Sprite riposted expertly.

Irons sighed and shook his head mournfully. “I'd argue but there
isn't really a point, you're correct. Unfortunately,” he said.

“Yes, unfortunately. So, moving on?”

“Yes. We need to get this fuel situation sorted out soon, but if
we can't, I'd like to see what other things we can do for the educational
centers. Which means more microcomputers and solar panels.”

“It might be prudent to find a local electronics concern to
manufacture them admiral. They can distribute them as they see fit even after
we leave. It's not universal, they'll charge for them, and of course there will
be bias, but it's the best road to getting everything on your wish list into
the hands of the most amount of people.”

“True,” the admiral sighed. “Unfortunately this planet doesn't
have the means to make electronics of this level yet. So, that means some sort
of fabrication methods...” he mused, tapping his lips with a finger as he
thought the problem over.