Relic Tech (Crax War Chronicles) (19 page)

“And the captain and Technician Schultz,” said McAllister with a smile. “I tapped into the surveillance records to identify who walked by the lab before I had secured the device.”

“Thank you for informing me of your unauthorized access.”

“You’re welcome. And, I also established a random distortion of all communications incoming to the lab facility. Set on my voice lock.”

“Any recommendations before I inform the captain?”

“Yes, Chief. Either immediately detonate it or export it to a better equipped facility. Whoever ordered it planted is well connected, and financed.” She glanced my way with a smirk. “If it had detonated, all we’d have found is fragments of Chicher components.” She leaned forward to stand. “I’ll send you the detailed report?”

“Good enough,” said the chief. “Thank you for your expertise, Engineer McAllister.”

Chief Brold and I stood as Engineer McAllister prepared to leave. “As for you, Specialist Keesay,” she said. “I can see you have difficulty making friends. Not surprising. Whoever did over your face didn’t do enough.”

I shrugged.

“Just keep away from me.” She turned to leave. “I hope no one else pays the price when they manage to finish the job.”

As soon as the door closed, the chief pulled out a small plastic box with various wires and gyros. He plugged it into a power outlet, activating it.

“This,” he said, “along with the regular security, should disrupt external surveillance.” He checked the scrambler’s settings. “Okay, Senior Engineer McAllister appears to be acquainted with you. Believes you’re a murderer. Care to explain?”

“I don’t recall ever meeting her, Chief. Given time I might.” I’d confided quite a bit in Chief Brold. Might as well go a little further. He’d get the information from McAllister, if what I suspected was true. “I have never murdered anybody. It is possible that Senior Engineer McAllister made a recent reference to the Colonization Riots.”

“You were involved in that incident?”

“I cannot confirm, nor will I deny your assertion, Chief. However, I would not be surprised if Engineer McAllister was a participant in some capacity.”

“That explains a lot.”

“Explains what?”

“I currently cannot explain anything. But I will confirm that you may not have been the target of an assassination attempt.”

I could puzzle it out later. “Understood, Chief.”

“So far today, Keesay, I’ve been two for two on hunches.”

“My hiring by Negral and penchant for attracting hounds?”

“Affirmative, Specialist. Care to venture a guess as to Senior McAllister’s first name?”

I looked to see if the scrambling device was still operating. “Maddog?”

He laughed. “Good guess. Try Nova.”

“Fits. I’ll do you a favor and try to avoid her.”

“Do yourself a favor. One less hound, remember?”

“Right, Chief.”

“Mer’s outside. He’ll escort you to your quarters. Stay there until instructed otherwise. I’ve got an urgent meeting to schedule with the captain.” He escorted me to the door. “Your new communications gear will be sent there. Contact Specialist Liu in her office if you have any questions.”

“Understood, Chief.”

“Glad to have you aboard,” he said, offering his hand.

Like all R and I-Tech species, human efforts to obtain A-Tech designs and equipment are a high priority. Sometimes corporations and the government cooperate, but even such efforts are normally in vain. Even if a rare and long sought after piece of equipment is obtained, it is unlikely that it will be understood or even replicated by human engineers. As a matter of public record, unlike most corporate acquisitions, there are some weapon components acquired during the Silicate War that the brightest military engineers are still struggling to understand.

Mer led me to my quarters a few decks below. He was quiet, which seemed out of character for him. Maybe we both had a lot on our minds. He said that he’d stop back with a late lunch if I was still confined to quarters. Mer knew about my restricted movement. I made it a point to find out about him.

A simple thumbprint scan provided access to my quarters. Armor plating and inward construction reduced what had once been spacious travel accommodations, leaving them small and cramped. Parallel red conduits ran overhead. Maybe one of the maintenance tracks ran along the other side of the wall.

Mer had mentioned my roommate’s name, Benjamin Cox. From what I could tell, Tech Cox either had few possessions or he’d stowed them. I couldn’t even tell whether he used the top or bottom foldout bunk. One computer terminal rested behind a worn padded chair. A larger metallic recliner with patched cushions was the only other piece of furniture. I looked a little closer. Duct tape, freshly applied. My roommate just jumped up a notch.

I logged into my account, disabled the voice interaction, and immediately changed my password to 14~greengun-onE with a minimum three-second delay after the hyphen. It wouldn’t foil a determined hacker, but included some annoying parameters. Most I-Techs don’t have the patience for code-entering delays. Next, I added an iris scan for access to my quarters. I always avoided voice access, as serious throat infections could cause a glitch. With nothing else to do, I fumbled around in the system a bit. After about an hour, I had the basics down.

I had Level F clearance to all systems, except for Information and Records. My Level D security clearance in I&R allowed me access to crewmen’s and passengers’ front page files. I could then request more detailed information. Exactly what a C4 could expect.

I keyed in Stardz to find his file flashing, ‘currently restricted.’ I looked up manifests and transfer information. Everything on him was blocked. I was curious about Engineer McAllister, but thought better of even superficially exploring her file until I had a better handle on things. She’d certainly note my attempt and no sense in getting her even more riled for nothing.

I keyed in Elmer, and got a blank screen. I retyped Elmer and then tried Mer with the same result. I was beginning to wonder about my access, so I keyed in Chief Brold. A screen appeared with a picture and text identifying him as security chief of the
Kalavar
, along with inconsequential corporate information. At least I could access someone’s file. I keyed in Benjamin Cox. His picture revealed a middle-aged Class 3 Maintenance Technician with short hair, big ears and a genuine smile. The text indicated he was on disability recovery, meaning our financial compensation was equally meager.

Finally, I brought up my file. I looked over what the chief had said was a false record. In reality, it was a fictitious interview and trial work record. It started several weeks prior to my early graduation and the Riots, until I was transferred to permanent stationing on Pluto two months later. What tipped him off?

As I read, my duty info file flashed green, hinting that I should attend to it, but numerous other questions pressed foremost in my mind.

I opened my duty file and scanned the routine section on general regulations and responsibilities. My duties included ship-wide roving patrols and security station monitoring as needed. My primary responsibly was to provide security and assistance support for a group of R-Tech colonists. Why they brought me aboard made a little more sense. What didn’t make sense was a separate section that indicated I’d be paired with a sec-bot, if it arrived prior to departure. I couldn’t locate any data on my primary responsibility. Not even one file on any of the colonists, just that there were eighty-nine. This part of my duty was either poorly planned or a last minute booking by Negral.

I rubbed my eyes. Since I’d need to study the regulations in detail, I sent Specialist Liu a request to borrow a hard copy. All ships normally kept one on hand. I doubted any I-Tech would want it.

I took a pen and a small pad from my pocket and jotted down questions for my immediate supervisor, Specialist Club. A breakdown of the colonists? Were they family units, individuals, mixed? Where would they be housed and what monitoring resources would I have available? Training and background would be helpful.

The list went on for two sheets, front and back. For decades before my birth they’d been calling for a paperless society. I did my best to undermine the effort. I’d stored fifteen pads of various sizes and several pens in my cart. I didn’t consider using them for duty a waste of resources, but maybe I’d break down and get one of the electronic note pads. Some battles were too expensive to fight.

I logged off and looked around the austere room. I should’ve asked Mer to swing by the lavatory before dropping me off. Instead of focusing on that, I stretched out on the old recliner for a nap.

A determined buzz followed by Mer’s voice interrupted my slumber. “You in there? Lunch time.”

I checked my watch. Almost 1:00. It took me a second to get to my feet and open the door. “Just catching a nap,” I said, stretching my bruised body. “More comfortable than it looks.”

“I know,” said the old maintenance worker, stepping in. “Benny keeps his place tidy.”

“My roommate?” I asked. “Almost barren.”

“Nah, Benny’s okay. I just think he wanted to make a good impression.”

“Or wanted to be sure I didn’t steal anything.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t it.” Mer winked, before stepping back out into the corridor. “He’s pretty trusting. I kind of watch out for him. Lunch is in my room.”

“Before we go anywhere, I need to hit the head.”

“Thought you might,” he said, pointing down the hall. “Twenty paces that way. Door’s marked. I’m next door to you. But don’t go anywhere else.”

“Thanks.” I hurried down the hall.

The facilities were divided for men and women. A scan of my V-ID provided access. There were three showers and sinks along with two urinals and toilets. The sinks didn’t have timed shutoffs, but I was sure they were monitored. Despite the fact that all water was captured and recycled aboard an interstellar ship, it’s still standard policy to conserve. The alternative risks overburdening the system.

Mer sat, waiting in his cluttered quarters. The room was twice the size of mine, and looked like he’d lived in it for decades. Memorabilia and knickknacks lined upper shelves. The lower tiers were laden with books. A standalone computer sat in one corner next to a pile of manuals, and below another full bookshelf. Six lit tanks set into a side wall caught my attention.

I strode over to them. “Wow, they let you keep fish? These are guppies, right?”

“Yep,” Mer said, resting in a chair and eating a cold-cut sandwich.

“They’re not fluorescent,” I said, staring at the black-spotted males with sporadic coloring and the plain females. “What kind are they?”

He swallowed before answering. “Just plain old common guppies.” He pointed to a tray and chair. “Sit on down and eat.”

“Thanks. I don’t believe I’ve seen that type before.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it. They’re probably rarer than any fancy type you can name.”

“I thought interstellar transport of animals, pets especially, was restricted?”

“It is.”

I knew he was baiting me. “Are they sterile?” I didn’t think they were with the different sizes swimming about.

“Nope.”

“You have a permit?”

“Yep. Wouldn’t want to break any law or regulation.”

“You must have some pull, Mer.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “More than some, less than others.”

“More than most.” I stared into the tanks, considering water I hauled in my cart. “Those tanks, that’s a lot of water.”

“Yep. Aren’t you hungry, Kra?”

“Yeah, but it looks like you’ve got young fry
and
adults.”

Mer set his tray aside and stood next to me. “The top two tanks hold males and females, separately. The middle two are for breeding pairs. See the dividers?”

I nodded. “You’re breeding them now?”

He nodded. “And the bottom two are for fry and juveniles.”

“They’re live bearers right?”

“You know something about raising tropical fish?”

“Not really. I had a few goldfish as a kid. But I read about guppies in science.” I walked back to my seat and picked up my sandwich. “Guppies were used to control aquatic parasites around the Glasgow Colony.” I searched my memory. I’d inspected a wheeled transport with guppies on its manifest just before the Riots. “They were common guppies. Now I remember where I’ve seen them.”

“In your science book?”

I took a bite of the sandwich. It was synthetic chicken salad. After a second, I nodded. “How do the developing young survive traveling in condensed space?”

“Actually, mostly in the wash,” he corrected. “And not very well, but better than humans.”

“Then why are you breeding them now?”

“Breeding them for our final destination.”

“Then,” I said, “those that do survive would be more apt to produce offspring resistant to the effects of condensed space?”

“Could be. I’ve just been picking the healthiest. The rest go into cold storage.”

“Are there parasites on Tallavaster, like the Glasgow Colony’s?”

“Something like that,” he said, gazing at the fish. “We’ll need as many as can be raised between now and our arrival.”

“Still, you’re selectively breeding them, right?”

“Seems so,” he said. “Avoid inbreeding as much as possible.” He shook his head. “But the facilities, as you can see, are limited.”

“A few tank-fulls won’t be much help, will they?”

“No, a few tank-fulls won’t.” He sat back down. “We’ve been putting them in cold sleep for quite some time.”

“Oh,” I said, thinking about what he meant by ‘we.’ I finished half my sandwich and dug into the red gelatin. Six tanks couldn’t amount to much, unless it was a localized problem. “Do they do well in cold sleep?”

“Tested it once. Near one-hundred percent.”

“About the same as humans. Not bad.”

“It’s pretty good,” he said, “considering humans receive better treatment than these little critters.”

“So, common guppies are pretty hardy.”

“A lot more than their fancy glowing cousins.”

Something nagged at me. “Common guppies saved the Glasgow Colony, right?”

“Well,” said Mer, “at least its profitability.”

“Yeah, that’s where CGIG got its big start.”

Mer frowned. “Yep.”

He set his gelatin aside. I finished mine. After a moment I asked, “Must be decent profit in breeding the fish?” I gestured toward the wall. “A lot of water to be maintained. Kind of a joint venture between you and Negral Corp?”

“Hmmm. Yes, Kra, you might say that.”

“You’ve been on this vessel a while, and you have this big cabin,” I said, looking around.

“Actually, I was on this ship’s maiden voyage.” Mer’s voice trailed off. He looked at the floor and sighed. “Seems more than ten lifetimes ago.”

Most R-Techs are, to some extent, nostalgic. “It seems you’ve done well for yourself. Fish breeding must pay well.” Mer’s thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. “Confirms my belief that you don’t have to be an I-Tech genius to make it.” I finished the second half of my sandwich, sipped my juice, and relaxed watching the fish.

Finally, Mer snapped out of it. After rubbing his hands and clapping them once, he levered himself out of his chair. “Picked up some of your equipment.” He shuffled over to a small shoulder sack hanging next to his tool belt.

Just as he got there, the hand-held radio in his belt crackled. “Mer, this is Brold. Are you with Keesay?”

Mer picked up the set and winked. “As a matter of fact, Chief, I am. We’re just finishing lunch.”

“Did you pick up his communications equipment?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“Have you delivered it to him?”

“As a matter of fact, Chief, I haven’t. Have you been attempting to contact him?”

“As a matter of fact, Mer, I have.”

“Thought so.” Mer cackled. “Anything you’d like me to relay?”

“Yes. After you hand over his communications equipment, tell him that all is clear. And that he’s to report to Specialist Club in the Control Room.”

“Mind if we finish lunch, Chief?”

“Doesn’t matter to me. But it might to Keesay, if he keeps Specialist Club waiting.”