“Admiral any eta on the other parts?” O'Mallory asked from the overhead. Irons and just about everyone in the bay looked up. The others however turned their attention on him after a second.
“About two more hours. Did you get anywhere finding additional robots?”
“I've scared up a couple. One is a pencil bot though,” she reported dryly.
He grimaced. A pencil bot was good for fine motor work, light weight fetch and carry jobs, but was unstable and was a pain in the ass to operate because of its high center of gravity. It probably had a thin graphite layer mixed into its paint but the paint didn't cover every surface so it would fail quickly.
Basically the robot was a yellow cylinder with a flattened dinner plate sized sensor pod on top and four force emitters on the bottom in small spheres. These allowed the little bot to float.
They ranged in size from a half meter to over a dozen meters. The standard size on a ship was usually a meter tall. The center section had six small manipulator arms. Each arm was about a centimeter or two thick, with interchangeable tips on some of them. The gripper arms could only hold about a kilogram of weight.
“It's a civilian model of course. I don't know its radiation rating but it's been out on the hull without problems,” she said before he could ask.
Pencil bots, hell, just about all civilian bots weren't milspec. Therefore they weren't really designed to handle hard jobs in high levels of radiation. Pencil bots weren't really designed to work out of atmosphere so if this one did it was either a mod or a series S. He'd find out later.
“Okay...” He shrugged. He'd sick Proteus on the little bot. That would allow the AI to do a lot of the fine fiddly bits and keep up with the balancing act. Since Proteus was nanite based it shouldn't be too much of a stretch for the AI to handle. It still didn't help pick and carry the large loads though.
“Yvonne dug up our old Hideyoshi Mantobot nine thousand. I know it's a pain but it's the biggest we've got.”
“Big is a relative term,” Irons replied. He and just about every Terran engineer hated Hideyoshi Mantobots. They were built for aliens with eyes and senses different than the standard Terran norm. He'd had to pilot one once and it had given him a headache.
For one thing the bots were designed after insects. Even a Veraxin would have trouble handling the vision system. The nine thousand series had a mantis style body, with a big broad head and widely spaced eyes. It's arms were long and spindly, with a large claw in place of a hand. The claw bent back along the forearm. Small finger claws were arranged along the sides of some for easier gripping and manipulating of objects.
The legs were spindly things; the feet were bare spring levers. The robot really didn't so much walk as it did bounce. To stay upright it would shift back and forth, side to side, usually making it's operator sea sick after a short time.
“Okay.” Right now any help would work. He was going to task the robots from the shuttle too.
“I know it's a pain in the ass admiral...” she said.
“We'll get it done. I've used one before. Briefly.”
“Very briefly I would bet,” she replied dryly.
“True,” he chuckled. Apparently the opinion of the bot hadn't changed in the centuries he had slumbered.
“I'll use it to pitch and carry. That should limit exposure with the damn thing.”
“We're installing the parts you've been sending over now.”
“Good.”
“I'm surprised you sent over so many electronic parts.”
“Milspec I think,” Irons said absently. “I've got my secondary replicator making them. I think Sprite slipped them into the list to help with the reactor controls. You've got a lot of banks of memory that need to be replaced. Entire registers I believe.”
“So I see. I've got a note here with directions,” she said dryly.
“I didn't do it,” he said spreading his hands and snorting softly.
“Admiral how are we going to reignite this? There is only one functional laser. The last time this happened I think it was a fluke that we even got it restarted. Since we've drained off the plasma we don't have anything to use...”
“Seed,” he replied before she lost all her self control. “I'll seed it. I'm also replicating replacement laser emitters chief,” Irons replied.
“Seed?”
“Same trick we used on Anvil. Or in I should say. One of the engineers suggested it. We tapped one reactor and fed hot plasma from it to the reactor we were initializing.”
“Oh.”
“We'll tap my reactor for some of it and any residual plasma in your systems.”
“If we don't get this started soon we're going to have serious maneuvering problems.”
“I know. We're working on it, chief” he said with a nod to the crew. The channel clicked closed.
“You heard the lady, let's get back to work,” he said. He went over to the replicator and jacked in. He felt Sprite immediately lunge through the open bandwidth of the jack and into the shuttle's communications systems and sighed. He was now stuck here for a little while.
“Um...” Irons turned at the tap on his arm. “Can you um... tell me how it works?” a girl asked. The youngest crew member asked shyly how the replicator can make parts. She was about thirteen he judged. Human female, Asian phenotype with an overbite and dimples. The patched overalls and pig tails made her cute. He looked over to a pack of adults and kids who were trying not to look curious. He was pretty sure they had more important things to do, but then again, maybe they didn't. He snorted.
“Hang on a second,” he informed them and then entered the ship and pulled out a holo projector. Setting it up in the bay, he used his implants to tap it and project the replicator. He explained how it worked to an avid audience, and felt his mental processes going into full teacher mode. He mentally snorted when he noticed the guards had even gotten into it. When he's finished with the brief overview they peppered him with questions.
Over the next several hours the final pairs of emitters and the parts for the lasers were replicated. He lectured them with an overview of many different pieces of technology, even touching into basics of flight mechanics.
He noticed the pairs carrying the parts have been returning rather quickly and nodded. They also seemed to be spreading the word, others were streaming in now. He had to mentally laugh at that. There were now about a hundred people in the bay. He wondered if anything was getting done.
The captain paced in his wardroom, trying to keep from feeling so damn helpless. His ship, his whole world was crumbling around him. Right now their entire future rested on this one man, this admiral. Hir'ruk and some of the senior staff were with him. From the expressions some of them shared they too were feeling completely helpless. His finger stabbed down on the intercom button. “Where are we on repairs? Can you get the reactor restarted?” he called.
“It looks good. If we can finish the repairs we should be able to do a start up in about three hours,” Chief O'Mallory reported over the intercom link.
His face worked. Decisions were laid out before him; they were increasingly looking bleak and ugly. He didn't like the path they were on but didn't see a means to get off of it. “Ah. Chief we need that power.”
“I know. We're working as fast as we can captain. That Admiral guy is a life saver,” O'Mallory replied with a hint of relief and awe in her voice.
The captain grunted. He didn't like owing the man so much. He wasn't sure what the man's angle was, why he was helping them like this after what they had tried to do. “I want him off my ship. As soon as we get the reactor up and running I'm putting him off.”
O'Mallory took a deep breath. She'd feared as much. “Captain, he's been an asset. He's more than paid for his transit to Antigua.”
The Veraxin Ops officer Hir'ruk bobbed a nod. “We have taken the opportunity to repair some of the critical systems now that power is offline. This Admiral has helped repair the ship's computer and has slipped us some p
arts to aide in that.”
“I've managed to finally plug that slow plasma leak we've been putting up with for over a century captain. Now that we don't have plasma running through the lines it was simple.”
“Oh?” The Veraxin asked, moving his mandibles. “The one on deck ten?”
“No, not that one. Deck four, right outside the reactor. We've lost about four percent per hour there remember?”
“Yes,” The Veraxin nodded. His four eye stalks rotated and then focused on the captain. “I think any decisions about our... guest may be premature,” he said diplomatically. He was both warning Chambers and offering the man a way out of his statement without wounding his pride.
“I'd like to see what else he can do. His AI are digging into the repairs whenever he is jacked in. I wonder if he can get us up to factory new?” O'Mallory mused.
“It is seventy point nine five percent possible given the right mix,” a new female voice broke in on the conversation.
“Who is this?” the captain demanded. Did one of the kids hack the intercom again? What the hell were they thinking distracting the crew at this critical time? He thought with a mental snarl.
“One of the AI,” O'Mallory answered.
“The Chief is correct captain. I am the admiral's adjunct, my name is Commander Sprite. I am repairing your ship's software and noted the topic of your current conversation.”
“You have repaired the communications?” The ops officer asked.
“The software yes. You need to replace a few components. I've added it to the secondary list of replacement parts. Actually tertiary list, the secondary list is more critical components.”
“Oh,” the Veraxin cocked his head.
“This isn't the first time the admiral has rebuilt a ship in the past several years. He's rebuilt several with our help. With the right mix this ship can be brought back up to spec, almost as good as new.”
“Interesting,” the Veraxin said. The captain set his jaw, silently fuming over the interloper.
“The right mix?” O'Mallory asked.
“Training, people, parts, power, replicators, and time. All are variables, but one of the largest is the will to get it done and get out of his way to let him do it.”
“I for one would like to see this happen,” the chief said slowly. “If it's even possible.”
“It will take a great deal of time. I believe the admiral was planning on helping you rebuild your ship in transit to where ever we end up anyway.”
“Interesting. I was on my way to check in on him when I was done here,” O'Mallory said with a pointed hint in her tone.
“We'll talk about this later,” the captain said gruffly. He reached out and cut the communications link with a flick of a finger. He glared at the Veraxin who just shrugged his upper arms and then left the compartment.
O'Mallory entered the bay and noted his audience. She started forward angrily to get them back to work, but then stopped short as the admiral's lecture registered. Intrigued she paused and listened as he used the holo to bring up an exploded view of an emitter, and then explained in layman's terms how it worked.
The kids were utterly fascinated, sitting around in a half circle in the front row. Some of the Terrans were sitting Indian style, a couple of the other species were either tucked up or sitting comfortably for their species. It surprised her that not one kid made a noise and they didn't fidget. They were totally enraptured by the lesson.
She noticed the guard’s interest as well and snorting in amusement. That was fast work; Irons had gone from a potential threat to a subject of wonder and interest. She caught Iron's amused look so she shook her head and chuckled at his wry half smile and shrug.
When he finished the lecture she asked how much longer. He cocked his head and then reported to her. Nodding she smiled at the guilty faces of the crew and told them to carry on. Smiling in relief the youngsters peppered him with more questions and Quinna laughed as she made her exit. She knew the little sprouts wouldn't be able to hold it in for that long without blowing spectacularly.
As the last pair of emitters were finished the admiral felt a kick to the ship. The hull shuddered and he tapped the link to the computer. Sprite flashed the ship's schematic and then highlighted a damaged area with a karat. One deck up and two sections towards the bow a micro meteor had breached the hull, peppering it with debris. With the life support underpowered they precious air was being sucked out the breach.
“Hull breach!” He barked to the startled crew. Barry's eyes went wide. “One deck up two sections forward. Move people! Sorry kids, I've got to go. Use the holo to look at stuff. I'll be back in a bit,” he said rushing off. He sprang into action, flashing out the door and up the nearest ladder. Racing down the corridor he found a young man who had used his arm to temporarily seal the breach. The gash in the hull was almost as long as his forearm and the engineer winced at the nasty vacuum burn the crew member was exposing himself to. The boy was in obvious agony but he was manfully trying to protect his ship and his crew. Fortunately the hole was small enough that it wasn't going to suck him through.
The work party that had been with the engineer came running up with patch materials and sprang into action. Irons rested a hand on the hull near the lad's arm. He felt a force field emit from his hand, slicing through the boy's flesh but sealing the breach.
They pulled the crew member away from the breach and used a hull plate to cover it. The engineer warned them of centimeter sized holes along this section and two Terran kids and a Veraxin split up and used strips of paper to find the holes. It looked like they had done this drill before. From the look of the hull... he wrinkled his nose. Yeah, from its patches they have had a lot of practice.
One of the young women was trying to set up a gas powered welder and he noted the fuel gauge. He slapped it out of her hand as she went to ignite it and curtly told her to check her gauge. Startled she looked, and went ashen. He grabbed her glove and put it on his flesh hand. It didn't cover much of his hand since his was much bigger than hers. He pushed it down anyway so he could palm the plate.
Motioning the crew holding it to step aside, they moved too slow so he pushed one aside. He accessed his implants and reconfigured his arm to welder, and began tacking the plate to the amazement of the kids. Grimacing from the flash and sparks, he averted his eyes and welded the seams by feel and implant sensors. He could have done a nanite weld but he didn't want to have to explain it to the crew. At least not yet.
The exec and Chief came running up behind them. The kids turned as the chief passed them by. The exec took in the injured crew member holding his arm and ordered him to be escorted to sickbay. A pair of kids helped the crying boy to his feet and down the passage.
“Irons just what the hell do you think you are doing?”
“Hull breach sir,” the guard said.
“Oh?”
“He's right,” the chief said. She was watching over Irons shoulder as he welded. “Want me to take over?” she asked. He snorted softly.
“Hardly, chief,” he said moving his body aside so she could see his hand was doing the welding.
“Oh!” she said eyes wide.
“The welder is out of fuel,” a crew member said. The girl with it looked embarrassed.
“How...”
“Never mind that now,” O'Mallory said waving the protest off. “What's important is that it's covered.” She looked at the kids who were holding patches over other pieces of the hull all along the wall.
“Seems like you've got your work cut out for you,” she said amused as another welder came up with a kit.
“It's all part of the job,” Irons replied as he finished up.
Mollified the exec stepped back and took in the damage. O'Mallory had ignored the exec to look at the patch job and nodded at the welding. It was professional; Irons had jumped around to avoid heat warping the hull. It was clean; she winced as a kid with a grinder went at it. Barry was further down, working on a centimeter
sized hole.
“How... I mean I know you've got implants but...” she asked how he did it, and he raised his arm and showed her his welder. “What else do you have in your bag of tricks I wonder?” she asked intrigued. Before he could answer he was drowned out by the kids asking how he had the implants and did they hurt. Laughing the engineer told them about his time, and how he had received them after losing his arm and legs in combat as they walked the corridors back to the bay. The exec looked thoughtful as he watched them go.
In the bay the chief took charge of the final pair of emitters, and asked if he could do more as spares. He watched the tight faces of the kids, then sighed and nodded. The exec had just followed them in and was looking at him funny so he turned. “Problem Mr. Warner?” he asked politely.
The kids looked at the exec. One of them seemed to gulp. Irons was curious though, he didn't read anything wrong in the area. O'Mallory also looked curious; she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at the exec.
“I have someone you should meet admiral,” he said quietly under such scrutiny.
“All right, give me a minute here,” Irons said. The engineer uploaded the new forms to the replicator. He logged in and uploaded the key and then instructs a pair of eager students on how to take the parts out of the replicator and keep the feedstock full.
“Since these are smaller and not emitters they should be easier. Each tray will be done quickly. Listen for the chime.” He warned them. They nodded.
“If you'll follow me Admiral?” The exec asked him and the kids groaned looking disappointed. “Sprite?” he asked.
“Are you kidding me?” she asked in disbelief.
“I'm not asking you to drop everything. Just tone it down. They survived this long without being factory spec,” he said.
“Oh very well,” she sighed. “Any particular subject you had in mind?” she asked. She was ninety nine point nine five percent sure she knew already. She spun a bot off to handle the task. She really only needed a chatbot engine to handle the questions. Anything that popped through the bot's database would be flagged to her. She could step in in a microsecond to take over if needed.
Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) Page 6
