Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) (5 page)

Irons turned to Nohar. Nohar's ears flicked. “I'm a detective,” he
growled.

The admiral nodded. “With the sheriff?”

“Bite your tongue,” the tiger growled, eyes flickering in
annoyance. “Private detective,” he admitted.

Irons nodded. He wasn't surprised really, many soldiers who didn't
want to be in law enforcement gravitated to security, merc, or the life of a
private eye when they got out of the military. Just like a lot of navy men and
women ended up in civilian shipping service in one capacity or another. “So you
are trying to get parts out of Pyrax? Why not go there?”

“I don't fly,” Nohar growled.

Hank snorted. “After his last stint in stasis he's gotten
claustrophobic.”

“I was that way before. That just made it worse,” the Neo tiger
growled. He shuddered, fur on end.

Irons nodded sagely. “It's a bitch. May I?” he asked again.

“What are you going to do without tools?” Hank asked. “You're not
borrowing mine!” His hand paws sheltered his precious instruments.

“No, I've got my own,” Irons replied. His right hand morphed as he
touched the tiger's right arm. The tiger flinched, eyes going wide in shock. He
was used to getting that reaction out of others, not the other way around.
Hank's eyes were round as dollar coins, his ears flat on his skull. The admiral
snorted at their reaction, there was nothing like seeing a cat get scared.

“You... holy... Spirit of space what are you?” Hank demanded eyes
wide, ears flat. Most of the bar had returned to normal conversation when
they'd relaxed but Hank's distressed voice cut through the chatter like a
knife. Silence reigned once more.  The otters looked over the edge of the
neighboring seat, eyes wide, noses and whiskers twitching in shock. One even
had his mouth hanging open.

Irons snorted softly, sending a mental command to turn his
implants silver. He could feel his arm, legs, and face changing. They wouldn't
be able to see his legs of course, nor his shoulder and chest, but the others
would be enough to make his point. “I'd think that was obvious, I'm a cyborg
too,” he said as Proteus went to work.

It only took a moment to get around the damage to the UART port
and into the prosthesis computer system. The power supply was corrupted, the
internal batteries well past their impedance. The wiring to the UART was
broken, and the UART itself was corrupted. Irons felt the AI make the repairs
and then begin assessing the system. Sprite leaped into the central processor
and started digging through the files.

“What the hell is that?” Nohar asked feeling the intrusion in his
mind.

“My AI. Hold still,” Irons said as the tiger flinched.

“His audio processor has been repaired,” Proteus replied as Nohar
swayed. “There may be some discomfort as his body adjusts,” he stated.

“A little warning next time,” Nohar growled, good eye tightly
closed. Playing around with his inner ear sucked. He felt nausea and fought it
down with reflexive training.

“Sorry, Proteus tends to dig right in and get things done,” Irons
replied.

“You mean you got in?” Hank asked.

Irons nodded. The implants were crude, they lacked the ability to
be self-powered by thermal exchange with the user's body or even draw power
from his central nervous system. He felt like tisking. They couldn't even rig a
calorie exchange engine? What is this the stone age? He thought. “And fixed a
few things. His batteries need to be changed. Hank, can I call you Hank?” Irons
asked, turning his head to look at the Neo lion. The lion nodded. “Do you have
a replicator? Or access to one?”

Hank snorted softly. “I wish.”

“I'll get you one then. A small one,” Irons replied absently
turning back to the Tiger as he watched the AI work up a list and then tick
down it. “That way you can help Nohar here and any others like him.”

“I...”

“Think of it as veteran's affairs. I expect a healthy discount for
them,” Irons said, still concentrating on the list of repairs Proteus was
performing. Sprite put up a dossier, Nohar yellow tiger, former Army Ranger
Sergeant of the 501st, medically discharged near the end of the war due to lack
of facilities and a mental aberration to being transported by ship. He had a
relatively clean record but his implants were substandard. Nohar like many had
overwhelmed the surviving medics. Instead of putting them in stasis and working
through them they had processed them and shipped them off to a crude hospital
to recover making room for the next batch of injured. Irons could understand
that, he'd lived it too. Nohar had apparently been put into stasis and had been
on his way to a medical facility when his ship had been destroyed and he'd
somehow been dumped in orbit of this world. Sheer luck most likely, Irons
thought. Sixty years ago he'd been picked up and brought ground side where he'd
worked as a servant until his eventual freedom.

Nohar stared at his arm as the admiral's arm cleaned and repaired
the exterior. It was starting to look new.

Proteus handed off the software repairs to Sprite. Sprite brought
up the firmware, compared it to the latest patch in her files and then wrote a
patch program. “Close your eyes,” Sprite ordered the tiger through his
implants.

Nohar flinched again. “Who was that?”

“My AI. They are about to work on your visual implants sergeant,”
Irons replied. Nohar sighed, and closed his eyes.

“Do it,” he growled. Sprite rebooted the firmware and watched the
patch kick in. It went in smoothly and the implants rebooted. After a moment
they ran through POST checks and then signaled all clear.

“Done,” Sprite replied sounding smug. “The visual problem was a
bit of grit in the shutter Proteus cleaned out and there was a software bug.
I've fixed the bug; Proteus took care of the contamination.”

“Thanks,” the tiger growled.

Irons watched as the AI ran through the tiger, doing what they
could. Neither were medical AI so they didn't have much to go off of, just the
firmware and drivers in the tiger's implants. Still they were cleaning him up
and repairing a great deal of the damage.

“We can't do anything for the leg, it's a simple spring
prosthetic,” Proteus reported to both the admiral and the tiger as both AI
withdrew. “You need to see a dentist about the abscessed tooth and a doctor
about the arthritis. A good dermatologist could help with the scaring and
mange,” it reported.

“It's okay, I've learned to live with it,” Nohar growled, flexing
his claws on his left hand paw and then flicking away a piece of dirt. Irons
nodded.

“I've got more advanced models for both legs,” Irons replied.

“Thank you,” Nohar said, slowly opening his eyes. His eyelids
flickered a few times as he blinked. Irons could see the artificial lens zoom
in and out. He nodded.

“For a fellow soldier and a sleeper, no problem. Anytime,” Irons
replied.

“I'm not a soldier,” Nohar replied, sounding almost angry. “Not
anymore anyway,” he said bitterly as Irons withdrew his hand.

“If you change your mind something can be done about that and your
implants sergeant,” Irons replied. Nohar stared at him. “I've been reforming
the Federation and the military with people like you. I can give you a voucher
and you can get your implants rebuilt or replaced with full cloned parts in
Pyrax.”

“Why?” Nohar growled. He'd heard something about Irons. He'd been
tempted to go to Pyrax but it was a space colony. He just knew he'd go stark
raving nuts trapped in a ship let alone a space station.

“We need experienced people. People who know how it's done and can
show this new generation how to get it done despite the cost,” the admiral
replied quietly. “You heard about the pirates?” Nohar and Hank nodded.

“Hell man, who hasn't?” Hank asked.

“Well, they are a bit more than we or anyone knew about, a lot
more. A couple of years ago the Carib Queen came in to Pyrax screaming about a
pirate fleet chasing it. I managed to gather some volunteers and together we
salvaged some derelict warships. We had just enough time to get the ships
sorted out before we had to bust up a small pirate fleet at the Agnosta-Pyrax
jump point. You may have heard about it?” Both Neo's nodded. The event had
happened a few years ago and had already become a legend. “We found out the
pirates are from Horath.”

Hank's eyes went wide again. “Horath!” he spat.

“Ah, you've heard of them huh?” Irons asked, smiling slightly at
that reaction.

“Who hasn't?” the bartender rumbled from across the room. Irons
looked his way and then nodded. “Bunch of racist fagots,” the gorilla growled,
showing a curled tooth.

“Right,” Irons replied. His voice instinctively picked up to make
the pitch to the room at large. “I started a seed, a small navy and marine
detachment in Pyrax and Agnosta. They will turn those star systems into a black
hole for the pirates while building up the tech back to what it was before the
war,” Irons replied.

“But to do that... the keys...” Hank mused, eyes flickering as he
thought furiously.

Irons nodded. “Which they have, or at least some of them, things
are a lot better in Pyrax than ever before. They're working on expanding but
they need help.”

“Help,” Nohar said, not sounding like he fully believed his ears.

Irons nodded. “Help. People like you, who know how to fight. If you
don't think you can do ground combat you can always teach,” Irons replied.

“Huh,” the tiger growled softly. “I don't do space stations
admiral,” he growled after a moment.

The admiral nodded. “Then you can go to Agnosta. There is a marine
base there. Several hopefully, I haven't gotten the last report so I'm not
sure,” he said raising a hand. “The plan is to have several training bases
there to train marines in basic combat. But we also need army. We need
Rangers,” Irons said simply.

Nohar grunted. “I'll think about it,” he growled looking away.

The admiral sighed internally but turned, looking around. Some in
the room looked interested or at least amused. “The navy has a policy of free
education, full medical for you and your family, and will even pay part or all
of your transportation costs. Some with the right skill sets can even get sign
up bonuses,” Irons said to the room at large.

“I think you made your pitch,” Nohar chuffed, sitting back and for
the first time moved his right arm to rest it onto the table. He looked down at
it and slowly clenched and unclenched the fist. He raised it and stared at the
artificial hand. “It's like new,” he said softly.

“Not as good as mine I admit, but it's useable for now,” Irons
replied.

“I've got a client to get to,” Nohar admitted reluctantly after a
moment. Irons nodded.

“Just think about it. If you want someone to talk about old times
with let me know,” Irons said nodding as both of them got up. “Nice to meet you
Hank, I'll try to remember to get you that replicator when I get the chance.”

“Thank you um, Admiral,” the Neolion said nodding. Irons realized
he had been putting a pocket watch together while they had talked. He snorted
softly. He turned and Nohar was already gone.

“Gentlemen, ladies,” Irons said, nodding to the other patrons as
he made his way out. He heard the voices pick up as people talked about him and
what he had said as he left. A few of the skeptics made him itch to wade back
in but he forced himself to move on.

“Well! That was interesting,” Sprite said.

The admiral smiled as they made their way through the crowd. “Was
it?” he asked, sounding amused but slightly disinterested.

“Tell me you didn't plan that?” Sprite accused, sounding amused as
well.

“I didn't expect gratitude if that's what you're probing about.
But yeah, the pitch was part of it. I wanted to one, impress him and the
others, and two, get the word out. Even with the skeptics people will talk
about it and some will take an interest.”

“Well, I do admit you did make an impression,” Sprite admitted
with an amused sniff. “I think setting up a recruiting poster would work better
though. It would lay out all the facts for anyone to read. Relying on organic
word of mouth is... troubling. Your feeble memories tend to distort simple
facts.”

“Which can work to our advantage,” Irons replied with a small
smirk as he crossed the street at the corner. He nodded as a horse drawn
carriage slowed for him to get out of the way. When he and the older lady who
had been just behind him had stepped onto the wooden side walk the carriage
moved on.

“Ma'am,” Irons said, stepping aside and nodding politely to the
woman behind him. She sniffed and turned walking primly away.

Irons sighed softly watching her leave.

“Somehow, something tells me that wasn't the response you wanted,”
Sprite chuckled.

“Oh shut up,” he growled back.

Irons noticed something was up when the people in the street
started heading to the sidewalks and into the buildings. Someone bumped him in
passing, he turned to protest and saw a pair of figures down a hundred meters
away making their way purposely into the street.