Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (100 page)

People
joined in impromptu tour groups to visit the station and see the sights. That
sparked interest in various sights they found, including the parks and
recreational facilities like the casino's, hotels, water parks, and theme
parks. A petition is immediately started to get one or more of those places
back online.

The
surviving augments were tired and old. They needed help to run the station
network, most really didn't have the skills or interest at all. It's obvious,
only a handful were actually interested in the drudgery of actually running the
station. Averies, Ribber, Gwen, the Stewards, and the Berkhearts were the
primary ones doing the day to day station chores. The new augments lacked the
necessary skills. The Stewards were unhappy about the deception when it came to
light. Discussions on what to do about the situation became a bit heated before
eventually pattering out. It wasn't like they could just cut them off now.

Averies
tried to help as much as possible but he was constantly pulled off in one
direction or another. Myers did a bit, but he was so absent minded it was
useless to involve him. He frequently forgot his commitments when something
else came up. He was intently focused on the station's science now over
anything else.

The
Gashg Ribber was a hard worker; he worked along with Ron and Rachael Steward to
maintain the ever growing life support system and to keep his beloved gardens
healthy. But he had resigned from the council, preferring to attend to his
garden over dealing with the day to day meetings and seemingly endless
wrangling over petty subjects. The admiral felt a pang of envy over the Gashg;
he wished he could join the old coot.

Doctor
Megan Trask was so busy running medical she rarely attended the meetings
anymore. She had signed over her proxy to the Berkhearts. That hadn't gone over
well with some of the others.

The
rest were all attorneys and minor bureaucrats, all uninterested in actually
managing
the station. Oh they were, but not the hands on. No, they couldn't sully
themselves with such details. Let the peons handle that while they stuck to the
quote unquote
big picture
.

Of
course they didn't quite come out and say that. If they had the admiral was fairly
certain Riff or Gwen would yank their cords in a heartbeat. They were furious
over the last cyber war. Gwen had been seriously pissed over a planned virtual
golf tournament that had sucked up memory and processors yesterday. When she
had found out what was going on she'd shut down entire banks that had been
tasked. Of course the cybers just shifted their game to other processors,
preempting them from whatever task they had been performing. That had caused
some major headaches for the station crew.

After
mulling the situation over Irons broke down and decided to have another talk
with the Warners about the subject. Something had to be done for them and for
the council's long term coordination of the station. They couldn't afford
another cyber war. He also needed some help, some friends in the right places
so to speak.

He
made his way to the hospital ward during visiting hours. He was fairly sure the
ensign would be there as well. She rarely left her husband's side now that his
situation was deteriorating rapidly.

The
doctors had said they were delaying the procedure because of the holiday and
because of how fast he was deteriorating. They didn't want to hook him up until
he was stable.

“How
are you doing?” he asked, knocking on the open door when he arrived at Taylor
Warner's room.

Warner
looked up and smiled politely. “Come to pay your last respects admiral?”

“Actually...
I well, I wanted to know if you rethought that idea that the doctors presented
to you earlier.”

“Oh?”
Warner looked at his wife. He'd thought about it but nothing else had been said
so he had just assumed that it was no longer possible.

The
admiral came into the room and stood uncomfortably, clenching and unclenching
his hands. He hated this. He knew from experience how it felt to be there in
that bed. Being here, feeling so damn helpless... it sucked. It sucked the life
right out of you.

"The
station needs help to maintain itself. We can't well..." he frowned, not
sure about how to ask what he didn't want to ask.

"You
need volunteers," Warner asked. Most of the volunteers from the planet
were next to useless in the net. He'd seen them fumble about and try to do
tasks they were assigned to do. None of them had any sort of experience with
the job. Some blew off the tasks in favor of consulting or discussing other
things. All of them tended to lead but very few of them knew how to get
something to work. It was a case of too many chiefs and not enough Indians.

The
admiral was asking a lot. He was asking them to sacrifice their physical
selves. Not that he had much choice. His condition was terminal. They could
save his brain and brain stem but the tumors were already proliferating through
his body. He'd come to accept it, but he didn't like it.

He
looked down at his body. Too much radiation and a timed genetic disorder.
That's what the doctors were saying. Nanites were clearing some of the tumors
but not all. Too many were cropping up all over. Thousands all over his body.
They grew in frightening speed, sucking away resources his body needed to function
and stay alive. In order to get them all they'd have to rewrite his DNA and
replace every cell. That was possible of course, humans replaced their cells
every seven years, but inducing the repair and mitosis was a long shot at best.
One that they didn't have the time to complete. The doctors were focused on his
neurology but the rest of his body was rotting away before their eyes.

According
to doctor Kraft and that T'clock geneticist he couldn't get the name right they
could in theory clone his body and transplant his brain and brain stem to the
new one. But first they had to find a fix for the genetic disorder, one that
stuck. The last two repair attempts had failed miserably.

They
had tried to convince him to go into stasis but he had vehemently denied it. No
more little death of sleep. No. He was done with that. Live or die he would do
it in the real world among friends.

He
didn't mind the surroundings; they had him in a nice hospital bedroom. A green
colored suite complete with a credenza of white flowers and a simulated window.
It was a nice place to visit but he was heartily tired of being here.

“It's
a big thing. I can't well...” Irons twisted his hands clearly torn. “I... A
station of this size needs dedicated personnel. It's designed to be run by
cybers, people jacked in permanently. People who know what they are doing.”

“I
know what cybers are admiral,” Warner said. “We have discussed this already
with doctor's Trask, Kraft, and Numiria last month. I don't have a lot of time
left and I'm willing to take the risk.”

"I'm
in too," his wife said with a smile. She rubbed his hand. “Though I will
miss this,” she murmured.

He
looked at her, eyes glowing. His wife still had little to say but what she did
say had enormous impact with him. After a moment of searching he nodded too,
smiling a little. "We do need to make room for the next generation don't
we?" he asked softly.

"That's
good. But not the real problem. The problem is..."

"The
problem is the core of the station uses both AI and cybers."

"AI?"
Warner knew this but he wasn't sure where the admiral was going with it.

“There
were a lot of AI. Most crashed and went senile a long long time ago,” Irons
replied softly. “You know about Draco.” They nodded. “There are a couple of
dumb AI and one smart AI left in the system. There are also three dumb AI who
are supposed to be borderline insane somewhere hiding. They... all the AI
are... well eccentric.” He shrugged uncomfortably.

"I
can whip something up in time with the help of the others. I've patched them
the best I can. But in the meantime we need engineering Cybers. People linked
in full time to manage the power plants and needs of the station. People who
know what they are doing," Sprite said. “We're at a standstill and this
latest cyber war has really torn a hole in the manning tables. Admiral Irons
and I are each standing watched as well.”

“Cybers?”
Quinna asked. She'd just come in and was wrestling with the topic.

The
Warners looked her way and nodded for her to come in. “Full time augments. They
would be put in a pod and their bodies would be kept on life support. Their
brains would be permanently hooked to the station's computer net. In effect
they would
be
the computer. Or at least the one's running it.”

"Um..."

“It's
not for the faint of heart. It takes a level of commitment most people can't
understand. We're talking about... well...” he shrugged helplessly.

“I
take it the ones in the station right now...”

“Are
old. Most died over time. A few like we saw went insane over time. It
apparently varied, some went delusional and retreated to their own virtual
world, and others went psychotic like we saw. Some cut off their own life
support and died thinking their bodies would wake up.”

Taylor
flinched. “But they can live...”

“A
long long time. Millennia at least. With the right medical support
indefinitely,” Irons said.

“We
could keep an eye on the kids. The grand kids I mean. Always be there for
them,” Taylor Warner said looking at his wife. He smiled. Of course first their
son had to get off his first mate stick and find someone.

He
realized that what Irons really wanted and needed was an ally or in their case
allies plural. Allies on the council to watch his back. He resented that a
little, but understood it. Besides, what choice did he have? None really.

“My
brother was an augment, a cyber I mean,” Mrs. Warner said softly. “He was
injured in an accident. His body was torn apart in the crash. They said it was
the only way to save him short of a full body clone job which was illegal.
He... he was okay. Weird but okay.” She grimaced. “It took some getting used to
though.”

"It's
something to think about. We'll have to have volunteers for that as well,"
Irons said with a grimace. "Sprite can't handle a class seven bottle. It
takes an AI and dedicated staff to manage one. We've got four we can run and
well, we'll need two staff to get the station up and running at minimum."

"Ouch,"
Warner said wincing. He looked at his wife, hands on hers. "We'll think
about it," he said after a moment.

"I'm
not... I wasn't... hell," Irons said slumping a little as they looked at
him with knowing eyes. "I didn't want this. I don't know what to
say," he said, struggling with his own emotions.

"We'll
talk about it admiral," she said softly, eyes searching her husband’s. He
stroked her hair gently.

In
a rare move the medical team decided to do both surgeries at the same time.
They had a second and a third team trained in the basic procedures. Since both
the Warners had extensive implants already it would be much easier to perform
their surgeries.

Of
course the admiral and his AI had to be on hand for both surgeries. That
annoyed some of the medical staff but when he gently explained that they had to
have his implants and Defender's overrides or the Warner's military implants
would suicide they understood.

Doctor
Light Touch had excelled in the surgical training program, using her own
implants she was now on her way to becoming the premier telepresence surgeon of
the station. Another doctor opened each patient up and did the initial work,
and then passed it on to her. She had a fine grasp of the micro manipulations
needed for the task. Doctor Trask and Doctor Kraft directed the work. They also
used their fine control of the medical nanites to plate over all the
connections and test everything.

A
second team did the basic biological connections, rerouting their biology to
graft in the catheters and other equipment. Fortunately Mr. Warner had most of
that already done when he had been admitted to the hospital. All they had to do
was extend the services, using nanites to meld man and machine. They also
removed extensive parts of his body to limit the tumors. His torso and head
were all that remained when they were finished, all treated to prevent further
tumor growth.

When
it came time to work on Mrs. Warner the teams were encouraged but a little
tired. They missed a pulmonary embolism at first. When the alarms began to
shriek a few of the nurses flinched, one knocked over a tray of sterile
surgical tools in her surprise.

Fortunately
Light Touch had an iron grasp of the situation. She released nanites into the
woman's heart to combat the blockage as the basic team swung into action. As
she cleared the blockage they scanned for additional blockage as well as other
blood clots and repaired the damage.

“I
thought we'd have that problem with Taylor since he's been sedentary for some
time. It goes to show you, expect the unexpected,” Light Touch murmured. Irons
agreed with a nod.