Barry came to pick up the injectors personally a half hour later. He talked a little small talk with Warner and Irons. “The Scarab is almost ready to go. Once we get these in we'll be able to finish the preflight. If everything is yellow then we'll take her out.”
Irons thought about the yellow comment but didn't say anything. Apparently they were taking chances on a lot of hardware. Not that he could blame them.
“That will make the chief happy,” Warner said with a nod.
“You mean it will get her off my ass until she thinks of something else to bitch about,” Barry said sarcastically. Warner snorted and nodded.
“Mr. Warner you're needed on the bridge. Your shift starts in five,” a tech said, leaning into the boat to pass a broken bit to Jen.
“All right,” Warner said sighing and getting up. The replicator chimed. “Nice timing,” he said pausing.
“I'll set up the next series and then I'll take a break. Unless you don't mind another set of hands with the injectors,” he said looking at Barry.
“Can you... of course you can. You...” Barry smiled. “I think you can cut down the prewarm and prep time right?”
“Of course,” Irons replied with a nod.
“I'd love it then,” Barry said as they loaded the parts.
Irons took the time to set up the replicator for the next series of parts and then headed over to the Scarab to give Barry a hand installing the injectors. Each had to be cleaned and inspected before installation.
On the way they passed people in the companionways. Kids playing games, adults doing things or talking. Most of them look like they were doing make work.
“Why didn't I see all the people before? I mean...” He indicated the people around them. “If you're so pressed for space why are the quarters in the corridor I'm housed in empty?” Irons asked. Barry shrugged looking uncomfortable.
“That... We don't normally take on guests,” he said. Irons nodded. “We usually avoid them for medical reasons. Which reminds me, you'll need to be checked out by the doctor soon.”
Irons grimaced. He hated being poked and prodded. Especially by people who didn't have a clue about his implants. The staff on Anvil had been a hilarious diversion but it had still been annoying at the time. “The area you are in is far enough away from the boat bay and well... not occupied because it's messed up. I think the captain had put you there to keep you isolated from the ship's population as a safety precaution. And to make it easier to keep tabs on you no doubt. Prison,” Warner explained reluctantly.
“Smell,” Barry said with a grimace. “And the life support in that area is bad. We lost a bunch of people a while back. Half sick, half dead. It's happened a few times over the centuries so no one wants to be anywhere near the area,” he said. He shook his head.
“Oh lovely,” Sprite sighed to him alone. “I'll add that to the list then. Life support overhaul. Maybe you should have taken the captain's wife up on the transfer of quarters?” she asked. He shook his head silently. “Oh well. I imagine if you do you'd have to start over cleaning and repairing it.”
“This is my stop,” Warner said indicating the turn where they parted ways. “I'll be on the bridge if you need anything,” he said with a wave. Irons waved as they turned and kept going.
“Thanks man, you're a real life savor,” Barry said. Irons shrugged it off.
“Part of being an engineer. It's also part of being a navy man.”
“Oh.”
Fara tried to use another replicator closer to the boat bay but it was shut down. She called Martha who then put a call in to Irons. Irons frowned; he had one injector in and had both arms deep in the bowls of the boat delicately putting the other in place. He really didn't need the interruption. Irons listened as they described the error code and blanched. “Don't touch it. Power it down and make sure it's dead,” he ordered.
“Why?” Fara asked in confusion. She really wanted to do this herself.
“The nanites inside are screwed up. The computer noted cancerous growths when it replicated things and shut it down.”
“Nanites????” The girl practically shrieked that last. Irons suppressed a sigh. He was used to that reaction by now. He closed his eyes anyway when he heard her breathing pick up over the intercom. He didn't have the patience to hold her hand through this.
“Replicators are nanofactories. Get over it and move on. Look I'm a little busy here. Just shut that one down, tag it with a warning label then go find another replicator,” he ordered. He'd deal with it when he had the time, just not right now.
“Roger.” He heard her turn away and grumble. “No one told me about nanites. I don't want to be near the damn bugs. No sirre! Damn it...” she muttered. He grimaced as the channel was cut.
It took about a half hour to get the injectors in and finish the preflight. The pilot was there, dressed in a heavily patched orange EVA suit and clearly ready to go. She climbed the boat's left front leg and then somehow made the maneuver to get her rear into the seat. He didn't know how she could manage in a suit with the chair facing down like that. He hated Scarabs. They might be a fun ship to fly and use but they were a bitch to land, get out of, and maintain.
The pilot flipped through the controls and then gave a thumbs up as the cockpit closed around her. The bay was cleared so the maintenance boat could go out. The little boat lifted and it's arms folded as the doors opened. It reoriented so it was now with it's tail down and then turned to face the lock as it finished cycling open.
Barry watched warily as it turned away from the boat bay lock and moved off out of sight. “Well, that's done. Now what,” he asked, breathing a sigh of relief.
“I'm getting some sleep,” a tech said. He snorted.
“Did you unhook the other shuttle and get it cleared?” Barry asked. The tech sighed and shook his head.
“Okay guess what...”
“Down time after that. Right boss,” the tech said with a suffering air. Barry clapped him on the shoulder with a smile and nod. “On it,” the tech said shrugging the hand off as the lock closed.
ñChapter 5
“Admiral you have an appointment with the doctor. Long overdue,” a human tech said leaning into the launch to see him. He'd been at it an hour or so after Barry had dismissed him with a wave. He hadn't heard anything about the scarab so apparently all was well. No news was good news.
“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Best to get it over with then.”
“Do you ever sleep? I think that's why they want to see you. To find out,” the tech joked. From the sound of his voice the tech wasn't all that sure himself.
“I sleep. I'm kind of busy right now though,” Irons said with a shrug. The tech nodded and rolled his eyes.
“Lead the way,” he said with a wave of his hand.
The tech shrugged and spread his hands. “I'm just passing it on,” he replied. “I've got to go get going on the bay here in ten minutes.”
“Oh, I'll get directions then,” he said. On his HUD a map was displayed. The tech opened his mouth but Irons held up a hand. “I've got them. Thanks anyway.”
“How? I...”
“My AI dumped a map on my HUD. Thanks,” Irons said moving out. He turned. “Those parts should be ready in um...” a countdown clock appeared. “Ten minutes or so. Just pull them, fill the replicator chamber with material and then close the lid. Jen or Martha or whoever knows what to do next.”
“Okay,” the tech said, confused. He shrugged it off.
The infirmary isn't far; it's near the center line of the ship. Apparently there were two infirmaries, one was the original sickbay, and the second was an improvised space in the starboard cargo hold close to the centerline. Fortunately his appointment was in the old infirmary so he didn't have to cross the ship to get to the starboard hold at this time.
He liked what he saw as he walked. People were busy, they looked happy and things were finally looking up. He heard a noise and looked up at a duct. A pair of wide Elf eyes star
ed back at him. He nodded and moved on.
Smart. Elves were small, they could easily fit into the ducts and nooks and cranny spaces that a larger sentient or a bot couldn't. Still, it didn't use their full potential, and cleaning a duct was tedious mind numbing work. He didn't envy them.
Irons checked in with the doctor when he arrived in the sickbay a few minutes later. The doctor was a female neo Jackal named Numiria. Visiting the clinic served to relieve tensions over whether he harbors disease putting the crew at ease, and it allowed Sprite access to the medical database in order to repair it and check on the sleepers. He was very curious to know what he could do for them, if anything.
“So did you injure yourself too or is this for my peace of mind?” Numiria asked, looking down at a tablet in her hands. She was tall and thin, rakishly thin. Her ears were long and pointed straight up. She had a medical smock on that had seen better days even though it had been freshly laundered from the smell. She was about a hundred and fifty centimeters tall, well, maybe a hundred and seventy if you included her ears.
She had short brown fur, lightly tan on her neck indicating she had counter shading going on. Her hands were fine and delicate, with long fingers. She apparently had some mods in her ancestry; most canines had shorter almost stubby fingers.
“I'm fine doc. All readings are nominal,” he said taking a seat on the gurney. They were using gurneys in place of fixed beds and exam tables. Either it was out of practicality or it was because the old equipment had been replaced. He brushed the errant question aside and focused on the doctor.
“I'll be the judge of that,” she said with an ear flick and sardonic canine grin. Her thin tail wagged a little and then drooped. “You've been extensively implanted.”
“Cyborg is the polite term doc. Yes. I've got military grade cybernetics,” he replied. He raised his right arm and ran it through a quick demo. The doctor caught the demo out of the corner of her eye and stopped to stare fascinated.
“I've heard, I've seen some... but never this... May I?” she asked reaching for his arm.
“Sure doc,” he said, resting his arm against his side and hid a sigh. Strong fingers reached out and touched his arm. She traced her finger claws up the arm to the shoulder.
“I'll need a blood sample.”
The admiral immediately frowned. “I'm not keen about that doctor. Security reasons. I can dump my non-secure medical information to your database. My AI is actually itching to get in and repair some of the software damage.”
“It is?”
“She actually. Sprite.”
“All right. I'll still need the blood sample though,” she said firmly.
“Fine doc,” he said holding out his left arm. She nodded to an orderly on his other side. The orderly smiled politely and set up to take the sample.
The admiral knew that the nanites in his blood would destroy his genetic trace and then themselves right after extraction. He could feel Proteus already at work doing that. Before the needle was removed the job of covering his back was finished.
“There. I'll just get a...”
“No need,” Irons said. He brushed the swab away and flexed his arm. “Healed already.”
“It is?” Numiria asked staring at the needle site.
“See?” he said exposing the arm. The needle mark was gone. “Accelerated healing. One of the perks of being in the military.”
“Oh.” She shook her head as her hand touched the joint. “Must be nice,” she muttered.
“It has its ups and downs doc. I like it,” he replied with a tight lipped smile.
She looked at the tablet in her hands. “I can see that. I'm not sure I would volunteer to have so much hardware implanted in my body. You're almost fifty percent machine.”
“Pretty close doc. Probably a little more actually. I've got a lot of implants,” the admiral replied.
“Why?”
“Injuries. I was torn up a few times. Instead of getting cloned replacements I volunteered for implants.”
“Oh,” she replied, clutching the tablet in front of her.
“It's nice that I've got all the tools I need at my fingertips,” he said flexing his right hand again and then wiggling the fingers. She glanced at the hand and then snorted softly.
“I guess it does indeed.”
“Nice place you have here,” he said looking around. The infirmary was clean and neat. It was a bit crowded, but he had sort of expected that. It was also an open bay arrangement, something he'd also expected. There were privacy curtains but none were in use.
He spotted a few people nursing minor injuries. Medics cautioned them to be more careful as they patched them up. The doctor's ears cock toward the door. “Uh oh, sounds like trouble. I'm going to have to leave you for the moment,” she said. Just then a kid came in with dislocated shoulder crying. An adult was supporting him.
“Triage doc,” he said with a dismissive nod. He looked around until he found a nearby jack. She doesn't blink as he sat down in a chair next to the jack and jacked in. He remained quiet, sitting back and closing his eyes.
“I wish all my patients were as quiet and as patient as you are,” Numiria said with an amused look his way. He cracked one eyelid open to look at her then smiled a little and shrugged.
“Part of the problem here is that we are overloaded. I'm only one person. I have one other doctor here, but he's very old and a bit senile. Sure the others here are willing, but the only training we have is on the job.”
“Sometimes that's the best training doc,” he replied.
“True. But it's hard to pass on the skills people need.”
“If I remember right doctors are trained with a balanced approach. Half school work and labs and half actual field experience. They work their ways through the various specialties until they graduate.”
“Huh,” she said, as she gave the child a local. “Ready?” she asked looking into his eyes. He nodded. She firmly moved the arm up and back, getting the joint back in place. The boy cried, tears running down his cheeks.
“I told you to be more careful Marvin,” His mother said with a sigh.
“He's young. Children bounce back quickly. Since this isn't his first time you know the drill. I'm going to give you the usual analgesic and anti-inflammatory. You'll need to ice the area and keep it immobile for a while.”
“I remember the routine doc. It's not his first,” the mother said dryly.
“And no doubt not his last,” the doctor agreed. “Though for his sake I hope it is. Damage like this can become permanent young man.” She held up a finger in front of the lad's face. The boy nodded and sniffled. She handed him a cloth tissue as a nurse rigged a sling for the arm.
“That was quick,” Irons said as the mother escorted the boy out.
Numiria watched them go before she picked up her tablet and made a note to the boy's chart. “He's a regular. You'd think he'd watch where he was going in these soccer games the kids play.”
“Hit a hatch?” Irons asked wincing. He'd done that as a lad a few times. He knew how that could hurt, especially if it was unpadded.
“Yes,” Numiria said not looking up. He noted a wedding band on her right ring finger. Interesting.
“Happens. I know how he's feeling.”
“Oh?”
“Spacer born and bred doc,” he said with a smile. “You were saying?” he asked.
“No I was complaining. Ranting really,” she said going back to scanning him with a hand probe. He started to get up but she waved him back down into the chair. “You are fine where you are right now. I'm almost finished.”
“I wish we had more Betodyne,” a Terran nurse nearby complained.
“Well we don't. Do without,” the doctor said not looking up.
“Rubbing alcohol?” the nurse asked with a sigh.
“Peroxide. Vodka if you have to,” she said. The nurse wrinkled her nose and went to a storage cabinet. The glass doors were cracked. One had a star impact from something
sharp.
“You can replicate what you need or trade for it,” Irons replied.
“Replicator's on the fritz. It’s been that way for years. Before I got here at any rate,” Numiria answered wrinkling her muzzle and tapping at the tablet.
“I can take a look at it if you want me to,” the admiral offered.
“No there are more important things to fix right now.”
“No, crew comfort is important,” Irons replied. “Sprite?” he asked looking down at his arm.
“I'm a little busy here. Proteus is checking. There is a general fault in the electronics and the nanites are just about gone admiral,” she reported. “At least that's what Proteus is telling me.”
“Okay,” Irons said opening his eyes. He looked at the neojackal. “You're medical replicator has an IT hardware fault and it is just about out of nanites. I can't do anything about the nanites but I can fix the electronics.”
“You can?”
“Electronics are easy. Medical nanites are beyond my level doc.”
“Oh. Well, it goes to show there are some limits to you,” she said with an ear flick.
“I could do it doc but well... it's complicated.”
“Okay...”
“A medical officer is required to authorize medical nanites in most situations. They have the keys in their implants.”
“Oh... And you're not a medic, pity.”
“No I'm an engineer. Also an admiral. What I suggest is the next time you are in Pyrax you ask the doctor there to make you some. Doctor Thornby.”
“Oh.” Numiria sighed. “So much for that. Thanks for getting my hopes up for nothing.”
“Easy doc. It's not all doom and gloom.” He felt Sprite retract back into him. He disengaged the jacks and got up, straightening his uniform as he stood. “Let's have a look.”
He took the panel off and took a quick look. When he was sure no one was going to freak he let Proteus take over his arm. The AI went to work, morphing it and extending tools to repair the electronics.
Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) Page 11
