Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane (21 page)

Ian and Sindri both nodded.

“Was anyone hurt?” Franx asked, sounding just a little maliciously
hopeful. John nodded. “Good,” the older Captain said softly.

The thug near Bard looked at him. Bard nodded grudgingly. Some of
the prisoners saw the exchange and murmured, talking about how John was telling
the truth.

“From what I saw, at least one guy was shocked, another blinded,”
John confirmed. “I dunno if either survived or in what condition though.”

Grim satisfaction played on the others but was quickly cut off by
the presence of the goon. One of the nearby listeners decided to get rid of the
goon and told him to get out of his light. Snarling a reply, the goon stalked
to the refresher.

“You are right, we need to take this ship and work together to do
it. If you have my help I can guarantee it,” Quietly John told them after a
moment.

“How can you do this with your hands chained?” Franx looked amused
and commented. “You aren't going to be around long sonny, they are going to
take their time with you. Hurting one of the prisoners is bad, breaking a
bone?” he shook his head. “Suicide.” He looked at the others. “We shouldn't say
anything more, he will squeal under torture,” he warned.

Admiral Irons faked dropping his spoon and dropped his hands in
his lap. In a flash the fingers of his right hand deployed tools and the cuffs
dropped off. “What cuffs?” he asked them quietly.

They stared at his naked wrists and then tried to hide their shock
and surprise. Smiling slightly Admiral Irons used his body to cover his hands
as he re-cuffed them. He continued his meal as they digested his “magic trick”
and smiled wryly as the trio each came to a decision. Hope flashed in their
eyes briefly, mixed with grim determination. Each nodded to him quietly.

“What about the self destruct?” Ian asked. “We're screwed if the
brass...” he trailed off meaningfully.

John nodded absently, scratching at his stubble. He like the other
males hadn't shaved. Apparently a few had gotten the opportunity, but they
weren't going to talk about how. A few had the ancestry or genetic packages
that provided for a hairless face.

“Don't worry about the destruct. I've got a way with computers,”
John finally said, setting his bowl aside.

“But…” The passing goon who took his time on his walk by
interrupted Franx. Franx fought the urge to look up and glare.

John chuckled mentally as McGuyver told of a story of a man
slipping in the head, getting the others to laugh. Grimacing, the goon stalked
over to Bard in disgust. Sprite picked up his report, as the goon rolled his
eyes and told the Master Chief that they were just swapping stories. Bard
looked up to glare at John, who calmly looked at him, then raised an eyebrow.
Scowling, Bard dropped his gaze and dug back into his meal.

“So...”

“So I'll let you know,” John said. “It's all planned out, just be
patient. Fell deeds await.”

“How?” Ian asked, hiding his burning curiosity and urgency.

“You'll see,” John said, keeping a low profile.

“How will we know it's from you?”

“Oh you'll know,” Irons said. He had come to a decision, really
the only one he could under the circumstances. He would deal with the situation
in real time as it happened and play that part by ear. He had Proteus send out
nanite packages to each of the conspirators though.

“Okay, fine, be all mysterious. But, look here are the hand
signals we've worked out.”

They sketched out hand signals and an overall plan, then got some
rest. Three hours later the returning shift arrived, and shuffled in tiredly.
McGuyver and his fellows stood and headed off for their shift. Franx updated
the tired off shift personnel, who visibly perked up with predator like hunger.
That got the attention of Bard.

When one of the Horathian prisoners took up a spot within earshot
Irons changed the subject to ask about the EMP weapon.

“It's a rock,” Ian said, snorting softly.

“A rock?”

“Asteroid. They set it up like this. It's got the weapon on board.
They drop it on a course near a target. It gets in range and bam!” He smacked
his hands together in emphasis.

“Okay...”

“We learned the hard way,” Franx said, shaking his head.

“I see.”

“I was on a crew sent over to service it a few months ago. They
weren't happy about letting me see it, but I was all they had. It's got
batteries and capacitors. It takes a while to charge. The nickel iron coating
acts as the matrix for the electromagnetic radiation to propagate through
space.”

“Okay...” Irons said, cocking his head as he mulled that thought
over. EMP weapons were well known; they had been in use since the late
twentieth century. They had been discovered as a byproduct of a nuclear
detonation. The massive pulse of electromagnetic radiation would fry normal
electronics. Later mankind had learned to artificially generate EMP's with a
low induction capacitive coil that dumps its charge into a coil antenna.

He'd thought Phoenix had said the destroyer had been in stealth
and had attacked the little ship directly. Apparently either the pulse had
addled the AI, or he'd seen something else. Or the ship's appearance had been a
distraction to get the weapon into range.

It didn't matter. What was done was done; he'd analyze it later.
When they had time. But first he, they, had to get to the point where they had
time. For now, he needed to focus.

“This thing is wicked. Not a single shot, but a pulse train. I
guess they wanted to make sure they got their target.”

“I see,” the Admiral said, mulling over this report. If Ian was
right, and from the sound of it he was, it was bad. This device would have to
be taken out.

“No, you don't see. It's lights out if it catches you.”

“I wonder where they got it?”

“Got it?” Ian shook his head. “They built the damn thing. Someone
named Vinatelli showed them. It was built in the Horathian yards.”

The Admiral got a faraway look. “Horathian...”

Ian shrugged in impatient annoyance at the look. “Yeah, we know.
We were surprised too. But yeah, Horath has a shipyard, more than one actually
or so they say. I haven't heard anything that disputes that. They also have a
fleet, home fleet they call it I heard someone mention having a brother in home
fleet.”

“How do you know all this? If you don't mind my asking,” Irons
asked, shooting his eyes ever so slightly in the direction of the Horathian eavesdropper.

Ian scowled bleakly for a moment and then shrugged. “They've been
cagey, but we've been picking up talk over the past couple of months and
comparing notes.”

“I see.”

“This is a disturbing development Admiral,” Sprite said softly to
him. He nodded once.

<----*----*----*---->

Where did he say he was from?” The Captain asked.

“Hidoshi's World sir,” Lieutenant Blye replied helpfully.

The Captain frowned thoughtfully. “So, it would stand to reason
that he would have passed through here recently. Since we've been on station
for what, sixteen months now? I don't recall seeing him. I am seeing a problem
here. One I don't like.”

“I...see sir.”

“We obviously need to look into this more,” the Captain said. “I
think we need to have another discussion with Mr. Doe. Now, where have I heard
that name again?” he mused thoughtfully, stroking his chin.

“Sir, your steward said your dinner is ready,” the
communication's rating said.

The Captain glanced at the clock and then stood. “As it should
be,” he replied with a nod. “You have the bridge number two,” he said, nodding
to the tactical officer.

The tactical officer nodded, logging off his station and then
stepping to the Captain's chair. “You are relieved sir,” he said formally for
the record. The Captain grunted and then exited the bridge.

<----*----*----*---->

“Are we going to do something soon? I think we've learned all we
can. And the Admiral isn't following your advice very well. Instead of blending
in he's sticking out,” Proteus said.

“Patience,” Sprite replied. “Though, to tell you the truth, I
think he's surprised me in letting this go on for so long.”

“I believe you pointed out that he is building trust and
establishing relationships with the other prisoners,” Defender replied.

“True,” Sprite said cautiously. She continued to record the
conversations in the compartment with the Admiral's enhanced hearing. Multiple
transcripts were being written on the fly. Word choice and tone emphasis were
hash marks for her to review later. So far it was most of the same thing, of
little import. Bard had apparently been snuck a snack by someone in sickbay,
and the executive officer had interviewed him about the incident. Apparently
they were building to something tomorrow.

“If I know the Admiral as well as I do, it will be tomorrow,”
Sprite said. “We all know how he is in the morning. By now he'd probably kill
for a cup of coffee,” she joked.

“True,” Proteus said neutrally.

They overheard Bard snicker darkly about how Doe was going to get
what was coming to him in the morning. Sprite shared the information with the
other AI and then put it up on the Admiral's HUD.

“I believe he'll get the chance soon enough,” Defender said. “As
long as he recognizes the opportunity and acts in a timely manner.”

“Then we had better be ready. Which means short down time,”
Sprite said.

“Actually, no downtime,” the Admiral said softly. “You have the
plan ready?” he asked.

“An outline Admiral.”

“Good. I've got some additions...”

<----*----*----*---->

John feigned a nap. He closed his eyes and sketched out the
planned outline Sprite had jotted out and then filled in the blanks. He threw
his own twists in and the kick off. “Are you certain of this Admiral?” Sprite
asked when he finished.

“It'll work?” The Admiral replied. He pinged each of the AI. “Right?”

“We'll damn well have to make it work. It's a bit risky... but
we're past the point of caution I suppose,” Sprite said dryly.

“Incoming,” Defender said. The Admiral opened his eyes in time to
see four Horathian's with a blanket near him. They saw his eyes. He wiggled his
left index finger in a no no sign.

The Horathians pretended to shake the blanket out, snapping it and
then folding it. “Next time,” one murmured.

“Oh hell, I don't think so,” the Admiral said under his breath.

Admiral Irons tapped his implants and ran diagnostics. His power
was at eighty two percent. Defender, his military action AI was primed. Sprite
had an ongoing map of the ship generated. From overheard discussions of the
other prisoners she had updated it, and continued to do so.

The Admiral made a reluctant decision and gave a command to his
AI. “Are you sure Admiral?” Sprite asked. “You don't want to bump it up a few
more percentage points?”

“Ask him for anything but time Commander,” Defender replied,
surprising them. “I think you have taken this far enough sir. It's time to act
before time runs out.” John signaled agreement. It was indeed time to move on
to the next step and lay the groundwork for his plan to succeed.

“Identify implant, a wifi point, telemetry to track them, text,
data, and visual if you can handle it. Something to use to track them and let
us contact them if you can't do the full package.”

“Admiral, without their knowledge or consent...” Sprite protested.

“Ethics be damned, we can always ask for permission after the
fact. If they have a cow we can always pull it later. Just do it Commander. Go
on the record if you must. We can always remove them later like I said. But
let's work towards a later.”

“Aye aye Admiral.”

Proteus sent out ant trails of nanites to those sleeping near the Admiral.
The nanites took up metal from the deck as well as from the Admiral's reserves
and then got to work. One by one the AI gave each slave an Ident package and a
wifi link. They wouldn't know about them until Sprite remote activated them.

“I see now. Not just to track them and to contact them, you also
wanted to see through them. See who we can trust,” Defender replied.

Irons didn't want a discussion so he nodded ever so slightly and
then bit out one soft word. “Exactly.” He was just glad they had learned this
trick on Epsilon Triangula. Had they not had that experience, this wouldn't
have been possible.

<----*----*----*---->

He moved around every half hour, rolling left and right and then
he got up and moved. He went to the latrine twice as a cover. The poor
radioactive sod he couldn't help so he reluctantly skipped him.

He took the opportunity to drink a lot of the brackish gray water
and take on any additional materials Proteus could find. Then he found a new
spot to bed down at. When someone mumbled why he was getting up, he murmured
about the smell.