Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (113 page)

“None
of the other colonies lifted a finger to help. They were all wrapped up in
their own lives, their own misery. All just trying to get by comfortably. They
wrung their hands and said someone should do something but they themselves did
nothing.”

He
looked around for a moment, eyes glittering. “But I sent the nearest ships in
to do what they could the moment I heard the news. To try to save those that we
can. To rebuild the colony. That's one of the reasons I put on this uniform. So
before you denigrate it with your hypocritical attitudes maybe you should think
about that some.”

“You
are still a barbarian,” a mayor said lifting his nose.

“Maybe,”
Irons replied turning to him. “But then again, maybe not. I'm not afraid of the
application of force. I'm not going to resort to it every time though. It is a tool
I can use if I must, but it is a tool of
last
resort.”

“You
killed the cybers,” Fu murmured.

“And
you didn't hypocrite?” Sprite demanded rounding on him. He turned to her, eyes
glinting coldly. His back was stiff. His arms were tucked into his sleeves
behind him. “He killed people who were killing others. Serial killers who
killed out of boredom. For
fun
,” she said, eyes flashing. “They were a
danger to themselves and others. To this station and it's community.” She
tapped a virtual foot and pointed down to the deck with her right index finger.

More
than one mayor looked at Fu over that. They had their own experiences with
frontier justice. It of course made them a little uncomfortable to admit it in
front of such distinguished company however. “You killed the
helpless
.
The ones who were lost in dream, who couldn't fight back. You were too
afraid
to fight or stop the ones who were hurting others. But it didn't stop you to
kill
the dreamers did it?” she snarled, fully incensed. “To snuff out their lives even
though they were doing
nothing
to harm you?”

He
stared at her for a long moment. She held her ground, crossed her arms and
raised an eyebrow. “Well? We're waiting to hear your so called justification.”
After a moment his image winked out. His wife looked surprised and then sad.
She winked out too after bowing slightly. “Yes, that's what I thought,” Sprite
said turning to the others with a slight air of triumph. “You can't make the
hard decisions. None of you can. When it comes down to a crisis none of you are
trained like a military person is.” She ran a hand down her side and her dress
changed into a formal dress uniform. “Like
I
am,” she said,
straightening her shoulders. Her commander insignia gleamed and sparkled. Irons
knew she was highlighting the rank insignia on purpose.

“Let
he who is without sin cast the first stone,” Sid murmured softly. Irons looked
his way and then nodded to Sprite. He hadn't called her on coming to the party
in civilian clothes. Now he was glad he hadn't.

“Tell
me, how many of you learned anything new while as a cyber in the dark times?”
Irons asked looking around. “Learned the skills to
help
Averies and the
others survive. The Stewards did, did anyone else?” he asked looking around the
room. “You had plenty of time after all. All of you could have learned
something in seven centuries right? You're not that stupid right?

He
smiled a cold cruel smile when no one volunteered anything. In fact most of the
old guard were now looking distinctively uncomfortable and down at their virtual
shoes. “I thought not,” he said quietly, mouth twisting in a cruel tight lipped
smile of pity. “Couldn't sully yourselves with
menial
tasks even if it
was for your own survival. With doing what needs to be done. That's a peon's
task after all. It's too bad Fu left. I was going to point out that his
precious game of Go and Chess were both created as military strategy games.”

“Ouch,”
Warner said with a grin. He knew Irons was twisting the knife to get some of
his own back. The admiral was probably doing more harm than good but he seemed
to be getting some of his anger out. Venting had its uses after all.

“Then
of course there is all that calligraphy some of you love to do. Veraxin
poetry...” He shook his head amused. “I took that in college as well. I've been
to the home world of the Veraxin, of the T’clock, of humanity. I've been
educated in their cultures. Don't lecture me on education. None of you,
none
of you can hold a candle to me. I'm a teacher, a professor. I've been a teacher
longer than some of you have been
alive
.”

He
let that sink in for a long moment. He shook his head, studying them. None of
them were really getting it. They were closing ranks against him, he could feel
it. Fine. All he was getting was hostile expressions from the mayors. Randall
looked both hostile and amused. He knew this was going to make the circuit
since the cameras were on filming it all; it was going to hurt his cause more
than help it. But he had to try.

“I've
been trained folks, that's what it boils down to. I see the promises you make
and it makes me wince. Politicians are known to say that. To make promises they
know they
can't
keep.
Lie
in other words. Lie big. The bigger the
promise the bigger the lie. Try to sort it out and pay for it later. I've seen
it in school when a child ran for class president.” The sleepers and a hand
full of old guard people smiled a little at that dig. They of all people
remembered the class presidents and how they would campaign on no more homework
or shorter school days.

He
looked around the room once more. “I've seen it my entire life. So have you. So
have the people you are lying to, they don't believe half of what you promise.
None of you have any education in the macro. You have great people skills, you
can deal with small groups, shaking hands, kissing babies, photo ops... but can
any of you handle the big picture? Handle things on a planetary scale? What
about the entire star system? What about dealing with other star systems? I'm
trained for it are you? I'm willing to
help
but you're not willing to
listen
.”
He shook his head sadly. He knew the appeal was falling on deaf ears.

“I've
got a question, you are all beating your chests about what you want, what are
you going to do when the real barbarians show up? What are we going to do?”
Warner asked, looking around. His wife took his virtual hand. His fingers
stroked it as he looked down at it and then up to her eyes. “I've lived a full
life,” he said to the room at large before he turned to confront them. “I know
eventually death will come for me. But there are others here just starting
their lives. What do we do when the barbarians are here? You can't stop them at
the gate when there
is
no gate! When you don't invest in it! Filing an
injunction won’t WORK!”

“And
when they arrive it will be too late,” Irons murmured in the ensuing
uncomfortable silence. “You will watch
helplessly
as everything you
tried to accomplish
burns
around you. They will take what they want and
leave you dead or crying over the dead.”

“You
made your point Irons,” a voice murmured.

“In
the kingdom of the blind the one eyed man is not king. He's stoned to death,”
Emily said. Others around her reared back from her in shock and dismay. She
hunched her shoulders and then shrugged spreading her hands. Irons snagged
another drink from a butler bot and then took a swig before nodding to her.
Someone else understood his predicament.

Irons
understood the analogy of course. He twisted his mouth and then downed his
drink and held up a finger. An exhalation went around the room; they had
assumed he was done. When the drink was gone he smiled bitterly. “No, just one
little tidbit more. The admiral who said the quote? Trained in the art of war
and the profession of peace?” he asked, turning. “He was also a lawyer,” he
said, shooting a look at the politicians with a little extra oomph to the
lawyers like D'red. He nodded to Sid Berkheart and the Warners then turned and
walked out. After a moment Sprite blinked out as well.

“And
now you know why the military should be seen and not heard,” Randall said,
downing his drink.

“Oh
shut up asshole,” Warner snarled and blinked out. His wife blinked out as well.

“Well!”
Sandra said with a sniff of disdain. “Some people!” She tucked her arm into her
husband's and tried her best to smile politely and salvage the situation.

“Thanks
commander,” Irons said to her quietly as he made his way down the companionway
to his quarters. He nodded to a few people he recognized in passing. Most of
the expressions that were directed his way were neutral. A few were hostile,
but only a few. Some looked like they were interested in his formal uniform and
medals. Sprite nodded on her HUD.

“Think
it did any good admiral?” she asked.

He
frowned and then shook his head. He had to be honest with himself, what he had
done had needed to be said but it had probably done more harm than good in the
long run. In the short run things were pretty fracked up and appeared to be on
the road to staying that way for the foreseeable future. At least until
something came along to shake things up. “Doubtful. You can't make people
listen and think. You can't wake them up; they have to do it on their own. I
think they will close their eyes and ears and just stay the course. Damn them,”
he muttered.

“Great,”
she sighed. “So, the question is, do we?” She was still listening in at the
reception. Most of the people were now looking at the admiral with even more
hate and resentment, now because he seemed better than them and knew it. He'd
rubbed their noses into it and that hadn't set well at all. There were some
choice comments about his looking down at them. It was ironic; they had snubbed
him because they thought that they were better than him. When he rubbed their
collective noses in the truth they of course didn't like it and resented him
even more. The one eyed man truly wasn't king.

“I'm
going to keep trying if that's what you are asking. I haven't given up
completely yet. But I'm putting a whole lot more focus on my go to hell plan.
Just in case,” he said finally. Actually he was going to throw just about
everything he had at his little escape plan now, he thought. There was no point
in sticking around here anymore to watch everything he'd worked to accomplish
burn around him. He hated feeling both frustrated and helpless.

Sprite
sighed. “Admiral about that quote...”

“Did
I mangle it?” Irons asked slowing his stride. That quote was one of his
favorites in cases like this.

She
shook her head. “No, but I should point out that the quote is from a twentieth
century television show,” she replied. She smiled at his sudden snort.

“Oops,”
he said and then chuckled softly.

“Well,
you got part of it right. It did come from an actor playing an admiral who was
a lawyer.”

“Ah,”
Irons said with a shrug. “Whatever works, it's a good quote,” he said.

“Definitely.”

“Still
not happy about leaving?” Irons asked.

“Let's
just say I've still got mixed feelings about it. But I'm leaning more and more
to the dark side.”

He
smiled. “Glad to have you aboard Commander.”

“I'm
not there yet Admiral. There is still a chance they will change their minds,”
she tried to sound hopeful but he could hear an edge of doubt creeping into her
voice. She was at least honest with him in expressing it in that way. Good he
thought.

“They're
politicians. They do that on a daily basis if the polls change or flat out
refuse to change if they look weak. Either way I'm not waiting in the wings for
an answer. Not for much longer anyway,” Irons growled.

What
also irked him was that he could be an asset for any of the politicians if they
thought of it. Oh he couldn't and wouldn't take sides, he wouldn't endorse
anyone unless their opponent really was incompetent, but he could offer free
advice on strategy on a variety of subjects. Instead they used him as a
rallying point to point a finger at and blame or deride.

“Maybe
if they hear about your leaving that will shake them up you wonder?” Sprite
mused.

He
frowned. “It's a thought. We'll see. I bet they'll throw a party when they hear
the news,” Irons replied disgustedly as he tugged on the collar of his uniform.
“Time to get out of this monkey suit and into my coverall. I've got some real
work to do.”

“Is
he right?” Mrs. Fu asked softly. Her husband grunted. They had retreated but
hadn't lost interest in the conversation. Fu was staring at the reception, not
really paying attention as he wrestled with his own internal demons and doubts.
What the admiral and his AI had said had hit more than one nerve he realized.

“I
underestimated him,” Fu murmured.

“I
think we all did,” Mrs. Fu said. He turned to her. “We have been blinded by our
ideals for centuries,” she admitted, hands tucked into her red kimono.

“It
is who we are. Civilized.”

“He
just pointed out that we're not. Not in comparison to him,” she said, smiling
sadly. “I checked. He was telling the truth. His clippings show his education
and heroism.”