Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (69 page)

“I
also was about to bring up the fact that this station was technically a derelict.
Not quite abandoned so that would be arguable. Also they haven't paid their
taxes in seven centuries...”

“So
they are subject to seizure. Oh lovely,” Sprite said. “You know the
nationalization and the tax angle totally slipped past me. I did bring up the
salvage rights argument though.”

“Busy?”

“Yes,”
Sprite mused. That was still annoying, she should have thought of it when she
had been arguing with them. It irked her that she'd missed it and he hadn't.

“Still
not an excuse,” Sprite said sourly.

“Cut
yourself a break Commander, we've been overloaded with projects,” he said,
putting the cover panel back so it wouldn't be inadvertently recycled by
someone overzealous. Sometimes even AI put low priority items in deep memory to
focus on the task at hand.

“It's
still no excuse. I'm an AI,” she said, firing off the relevant passages to the
cybers. She put it in an open file, read only. She did the same for all the
current laws. Well, current as of the last gasp of civilization over seven
hundred years ago.

“Firing
back?” Irons asked.

“A
full broadside actually. I'm giving them something to think about. I bet we'll
start seeing some whining or some ass kissing sometime soon,” she said.

“I'll
settle for some genuine help and an end to any obstructions they are throwing,”
the admiral growled, twisting some wires together and tucking them into a box
out of the way.

“Not
likely,” she muttered as the docking light went from red to green. “They're
here...” she sing songed.

“Good,”
Irons said folding the step stool and tucking it under one arm. He could have
used his antigrav but using a stool was energy efficient.

“Holo's
working?” Sid asked from the overhead. “Testing one too three...” he said.

“Audio's
working,” Sprite replied through the data link. “I'll patch in a microphone
pick up for you. Holo is warming up now I believe,” she said.

“Yes
it is. Good. We want to say hi,” Sid said. Sprite sighed. “No, not a speech. Or
at least I don't think so.” Sid seemed unsure himself. “Not a long one anyway,”
he clarified.

“Great.
We'll make a politician out of you yet,” she said.

“Now
you're just being mean,” he replied with a laugh. “No need to get nasty,” he
said with a smirk in his voice.

“Say's
you,” she riposted back.

“You
know, I know the first order of the Apocalypse is to kill all the lawyers. Wish
they'd thought of that here,” she texted to Irons. He snorted just as the lock
opened.

Irons
met them and was immediately glad to see them. He shook hands with Barry and
the others. He is surprised by Riff but gratified. The others took their
helmets off when they see he's not wearing his.

“Nice
outfit,” Barry said nodding to the admiral’s improvised armor.”

“What
this ole thing?” Irons asked looking down at the suit. He hadn't taken off the
armor yet. “I just threw it on,” he said.

“Sure
you did,” Barry replied with a snort and a smile at that old line.

“This
it?” Irons asked, watching as security men and women formed a perimeter. Good.
They looked like they meant business. One had a hand held scanner and was doing
a careful sweep. All engineers, one medic and guards. Good.

Barry
shrugged. “All there is for this load. Sorry. We're kind of well...”

“There
is a huge group actually,” Riff said pushing the push pull out and over the
lock combing. “Hundreds so far. But the captain said they can't come unless
they have a suit.”

“And
quarters,” a tech said. “And food and air and well...” he shrugged and spread
his hands.

The
admiral nodded. Everything the captain said was logical. “We'll work on it.”

“Welcome,”
Sid said. His holographic image formed next to the admiral. His wife was with
him. “Welcome to Antigua station prime.” The holo of the cybers startled a few
people.

“Ah,
thanks,” Riff said with a nod as everyone stared at the newcomers.

“Tauren
correct,” Sid said with a welcoming smile. “We haven't seen your kind in quite
some time. You are very welcome here.”

“Thanks,”
Riff said.

Emily
poked Sid. “Where are my manners,” he said, not looking her way. “My name is
Sid Berkheart, this is my wife Emily. We are human resource managers on the
station. If you need anything let us know,” he said politely, following
formula.

“We
need a lot actually,” Barry said. “Well, they do, I'm not staying long. I've
got to go pick up the next bunch.”

“Is
it true there are so many willing to come over and help?” Emily asked
hopefully, eyes shining in delight.

Barry
paused and then shrugged as a nearby lock went from a red light to a green and
then began to cycle open. Shuttle two had docked as they had talked and now
people started to come out. Hesitantly at first but then with more assurance as
word passed that the area was safe.

“Hundreds
right now. I bet a thousand or so.”

“Wow,”
Emily said, virtual eyes wide. “That many?” She was now definitely excited.

Barry
nodded. “Kiev is a big ship. We've got over seven grand onboard. A lot of
people do make work. Many just stand around sucking up resources bored out of
their little minds. They want something else to do.”

“Which
we can provide,” Sid said with a nod. “Jobs we have a plenty,” he said.

“Good,”
Riff said. “Let's get to work. First order of business admiral?” he asked.

Irons
nodded, getting a nose count. There were forty three people of various races.
Not a lot of equipment, but they could remedy that easily. What really
interested him was the barrel of fuel shuttle two had dropped off. A barrel of
hydrogen fuel, two of water, and several tanks of acetylene, nitrogen, and
oxygen. All courtesy of O'Mallory most likely.

“We've
got a priority list. But first is to get to work securing a passage from the nearest
dock to the center of the station and it's critical machinery,” the admiral
said. “Which means patching everything and making sure nothing can get in. And
keeping it that way. Security...”

Riff
nodded indicating the guards around them. “Which is right here. Al sent along
some of his best to help.”

“We'll
need to tack weld cover plates over the Jeffery tubes and lock down side
passages. Anything a body can fit through will need to be secured,” Irons said.

Riff
grunted. He turned to look over his shoulder. A tech was holding up a welding
rig. She flipped the switch and the tip flared to life. “Just point the way
admiral,” she said with a grim smile. She flipped the sun visor on her suit
down.

The
first real order of business after the corridor was complete was to get a power
plant and a replicator functional. They had limited life support, most of it
canned. It didn't bode well if they wanted to pack more people into the space
station. Irons had a couple of people and the bots run scrap to his shuttle replicator.
A few grumble good naturedly about the task. “You'd think we'd be doing
something else other than lifting scrap and running parts.”

“Move
stuff now bitch later,” another said.

“I
can do both.”

“Oooh
multitask. Great. You do that. I'll save my breath and energy for more
important things,” the other replied.

“Just
think, you get to play with the replicator. No gold plated jewel encrusted
tools please,” Riff teased.

“Awe
spoil sport,” Danny growled good naturedly.

“Just
know you that's all,” Riff grunted. “Make sure you change any filters you
find.”

“Filters?”

“Something
tells me they haven't been changed in a few centuries,” the Tauren said dryly.

“Oh,”
Danny said thoughtfully and then nodded. “I'll remember not to drink the tap
water then.”

“Yeah,”
Riff said. “That's something else to work on.”

“Better
get on it soon,” Danny said with a grimace.

“Power
plant off line?” Riff asked as they entered admin. Irons nodded, amused that so
many that had followed them in were looking around and whistling in appreciation.
A few immediately climbed up into the observation deck to get a better lay of
the room. A few of the more duty oriented people immediately got a feel for the
room and then sat down at stations and checked the systems over.

“Glad
some people know what they're doing,” Sprite said, watching with a hint of
pride as people picked up on the system layout quickly. All that training had
paid off apparently. That was good. It was also good that all these people were
making a positive impression with the cybers and AI in the net.

“Power
plant is definitely offline. I looked into all of them. Right now life support
is running off of the station's solar panels which have taken a beating. It'd
be nice if we could get a crew out to do a hull survey and take a look at the
closest ones.”

“I'll
look into it,” Riff said nodding to a nearby tech. The tech nodded back
reluctantly.

“If
we can get the other maintenance boat over here they could help and play SAR
duty,” Irons said.

Riff
shook his head. “Doubtful. The chief has it swapping out the Scarab when the
Scarab goes off duty,” Riff said.

“Oh.
Well, we can see if one is available here. Or make one if need be,” Irons said.

“Make
one?” A tech asked looking up.

Irons
smiled. “This is a factory station. A big one. We can build quite a bit with
it. Like oh, another Kiev if you want.”

Her
eyes went wide. There was another whistle of appreciation, this one low and
long. He snorted and nodded firmly. He now had them onboard with the dream, now
it was time to get them down to business. “Right. Which means the sooner we get
a handle on things the sooner we can do things like that. Things like that and
more. Much more,” he said smiling invitingly.

“Well
all right then!” Riff said with a grin, smacking him hard enough on the shoulder
to make him wince in pain. “Where's the nearest reactor?”

Barry
undocked a minute before shuttle two and headed out, back to Kiev. The other
shuttle crew was eager to get back to the barn, but he was more interested in
the station. When he landed he was immediately swarmed by eager rambunctious
people. Some of the people just want news, but others were loading up for the
ride over.

“You've
got to be kidding me,” Gus muttered looking at the crowd. More than one pair
was arguing over who went first. One woman had luggage. “Do we have to let them
in?” the kid asked.

“We
deliver the goods. Get used to it kid,” Barry said with a head shake at the
mayhem on the other side of the cockpit window.

“Let's
get to work,” he said. Shuttle two was already taking on passengers. He went
back to let them in.

They
started by running small groups of twenty to thirty over. It was great that
they were running paired flights; it meant that they only had to open and close
the bay doors once for each flight.

After
the third paired flight the captain frowned as Barry stopped the rush to
refuel. Blur had put in some choice comments about the fuel usage. He really
didn't want to listen to the carping. So far the station was a black hole.
People and equipment were going over with no return on investment. He didn't
like that. Blur didn't like it and was rather vocal about the situation. He
really didn't like that he agreed with the annoying Telerite.

The
captain grumbled about having so many people over there. “What if there is an
emergency and they need to be evacuated all at once?”

Warner
grimaced and then nodded grimly. The thought had occurred to him as well. “They
know the risks sir. I laid it out to them and they wanted to go anyway.”

“Just
so they know it might be a one way trip,” the captain said darkly. He for one
had no intention of allowing his daughter over there.

Irons
and Riff led a team of engineers and reactor techs to the nearest reactor. It
was a small fusion reactor, really a back up for the mains. Of course a back up
for the station was bigger than Kiev's. A lot bigger, nearly four times larger
than the reactor on Kiev. Riff is immediately awed by the shier scale of the
monster.

“I
think...” Riff studied the read outs. The reactor control room was battered and
dusty but functional. If it had power. Irons had plugged in his micro generator
to provide the power. “I think it's got some minor damage but we'll know more
when we finish the diagnostic. My credits are on it having run dry on fuel. Any
ideas on that?” he asked looking at the admiral. The chief had only sent over a
single barrel of slush hydrogen. That wouldn't even make this thing burp.