Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  “It's... she has a point,” the captain admitted.

  “Oh?”

  He explained O'Mallory's plan, knowing full well who really was behind it. The captain and Cora discussed the plan briefly. She approved it immediately of course. He was still on the fence but leaning towards approval. His wife saw the benefits right off. He saw the cost. Cost in fuel, and potential cost in lives if anything went wrong.

  “So Numiria signed off on this?” Cora asked amused.

  “It appears so. The only one's not on board yet are Hir’ruk and myself. Everyone else who is interested is all for it.”

  “Interesting. What's Hir’ruk’s problem?” she asked.

  Captain Chambers frowned. “He's concerned about resource usage. He'd like to delay his vote until we're out of hyper just in case.” He shook his head. “He also wants to delay waking the sleepers.”

  “Huh,” she said thoughtfully. She's glad that they want to finally do something about the sleepers. Not only are they using up space and power... it's time to wake them from their living hell. Limbo. She shivered a little at the thought. He wrapped his arm around her tighter.

  “Cold?” he asked concerned.

  “No, just thinking of being in that. Of not waking or sleeping. Suspended between life and death. That's not right. We've always wanted to do something about it. Now we have the time. I think we should let them try,” she said meeting his eyes.

  “What about Hir’ruk’s argument? He has a point. Besides, we really don't have the room for more people.”

  “Let me worry about where to put the bodies,” she said.

  “And that's just it. What if some of them die?” the captain asked.

  She frowned prettily, dropping her gaze. She breathed a few times before answering. “Then it's better to of had a clean death than to be in limbo. Do we know if they are in agony?” she asked looking up at the ceiling and then to her husband. He looked at her and then pursed his lips in thought. “They aren't are they?” she asked, searching his face.

  He looked away, unsure of an answer he could give her. “I don't know,” he said softly a minute later. “I still am not sure about this though,” he said rubbing her arm. Six thousand people was bad enough. Throwing another nine hundred at the ship's systems and population? How would that work out?

  She took the tablet from him and tapped at it for a moment then handed it back. He looked at it. She had brought up the ship's systems. She pointed out that they can easily handle another four or five hundred people now. Irons had turned their makeshift ship into a purpose built liner by upgrading a lot of the systems and building them properly.

  “But that idea of another ship or station has merit as well. If some people want to go, it will make it easier on all of us. I wonder who would?” Cora asked thoughtfully. She was fairly certain some of the middle aged people would want a fresh start. That and some of the seniors. They would want to get out of the way for the younger generation.

  Every year they had a few suicides. It was hard on the crew so it was fortunate it was rare. But every year a senior or sometimes two would overdose on something or go to the airlock and take a long walk without a suit. Normally it happened when one or another was sick or had recently lost a loved one and had none left around them. Or when they thought that they were a burden to the community.

  It was a terrible loss, one she felt deeply. In the past it had been both a blessing and a curse, a blessing in that they were no longer taking up valuable space when they could no longer contribute... but a curse in that their lifetime of wisdom and knowledge was lost... and the effect it had on the morale of those that knew them best.

  Hopefully that practice would end for good with all the changes. Hopefully anyway.

  “Would they go?” he asked looking up at her. “I mean, if they had to? Or because they wanted to?”

  “A fresh start? They would be excited at the chance. The young ones definitely,” Cora said. The younger set chafed under the rules and wanted to prove themselves. Many wanted to strike out on their own on another ship. A ship with room to have a family of their own. “Some of the older ones would leave to make room for the younger set to grow.”

  A thought struck him. “What about our daughter?”

  She froze, thinking that over carefully before she responded. “Toni? Oh you think she'd go? I'm not sure,” she said carefully. Her troubled eyes turned to him, searching his for an answer. “But do we have the right to stand in her way if she wants to do so?” she asked softly. He patted her hand and she kissed him. She stroked his right cheek, going forehead to forehead for a moment before he smiled and kissed her on the tip of her nose. She smiled and cocked her head and caught his head for a full kiss.

  The kiss ended up a bit frisky as his free hand began to wander. She broke the kiss with a giggle. “Someone's being naughty,” she said reprovingly, grinning. He grinned back, climbing to his feet with her in his arms. He tossed the tablet aside to kiss her properly. She giggled as he carried her off to bed in his arms.

  ñChapter 12

  Irons climbed out of his shuttle and nodded to the kids milling about. He'd shown the adults how to make plastic toys for some of the kids a few weeks ago. Some of the parents were into it; others were of a more tough minded class. Personally he thought the kids deserved something of a childhood. It definitely took some pressure off the old hand me downs. A few of the older toys sported newly repaired or replaced parts. That was a good sign. There was no telling how much more they could achieve in the forty days they had until break out.

  “Are you going to work on the replicators again admiral?” A Telerite child said, sounding hopeful. He had a small pair of sunglasses on and a puzzle ball in his hands. His vocoder was shiny and new.

  He shook his head. “'Fraid not kids, I'm getting some down time in and then I'm going to work with Lobo the chief of recycling this afternoon again.”

  The kid’s faces fell. One toed the deck. “Awe!” They all said. Irons snorted.

  “I heard you had a good time on your field trip. Was it fun?” he asked, leaning up against the landing leg and trying to relax.

  “Sure,” a pig tailed girl said. “It was a blast,” she said grinning. She obviously had a good time. She and a Terran boy constantly peppered him with engineering questions.

  “Maybe for you. You want to become an engineer,” a Veraxin chittered.

  “You could always ask for a tour of something you are interested in,” Irons suggested.

  That brought the Veraxin up short. “Um...”

  “Think about it,” Irons suggested. They looked at each other uncertainly. “Did any of you think to thank the chief for the tour?”

  “We did,” the little girl said, nodding earnestly.

  “No, I mean with a thank you note. Or a drawing,” he suggested.

  “A drawing?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. He smiled.

  “Does anyone have a tablet or phone?” he asked looking at them. They looked around. Finally one of the kids held one up hesitantly.

  “Okay,” he went over to the steps to the launch hatch and sat down on them and held out his hand for the tablet. The Telerite took it from the shy boy and then handed it to him. He took the stylus off the side and then tapped at the controls. Tablets had really hit it off with the crew after he had shown Fara how to replicate and use them. Now just about everyone had one.

  “You really don't have paper here. There isn't much room for that on a starship. So...” he opened a simple paint program and showed them the file. “Have any of you tried this?” he asked, showing them. The kids shook their heads, craning their necks to see what he was doing. He frowned. “No? Really?” They kept shaking their heads. A few had their hands in pockets or behind their backs. “Wow. Well, see, you draw here,” he took the stylus and drew a face. Then he saved it, copied it and modified the face so one eye was closed. Then he saved that file and edited the two so they switched back and forth. “See?” he said showing the
m.

  The simple animated image had the kids oohing and awing. The Telerite took the tablet back and stared at it as the others crowded around behind it. “Can it do other things?” it asked.

  The admiral smiled. He knew he had them hooked now. “Oh you bet. You've seen the movies on there right?” The kids nodded. “What about the animation movies and shows?” They nodded again. “Well, that's how they do it. A simple showing mind you. I'm not an artist. But you can draw all sorts of things on the computer. And animate them. So... if you want to say draw the chief a picture you can do that. Or one of your parents or of a shuttle or anything.”

  “Wow. I knew you could take pictures...” the girl said.

  The admiral nodded. “It can do that too. At least the tablets with cameras that work. But you can modify the pictures too.” He took the tablet back and took a picture of the kids. Then he went back to the paint program and modified the image. He held it up to show them. The kids started giggling. He had changed hair colors or chitin color and had given a few of them goofy expressions.

  “You look good in spots,” a Terran boy teased the Veraxin.

  “I thank you,” the Veraxin said. He paused and cocked his head. “I think.”

  Irons noticed Barry and a work party coming in. Barry looked at the admiral with the kids and scowled ferociously. He cocked his head and then returned his attention to the kids. “Now, you save it here,” he showed them the steps in how to save the files and how to send them to each other and then finished when Barry came over. He loomed behind the last row of kids. The kids looked up and blinked at him uncertainly.

  “Something we can help you with?” Irons asked politely getting up.

  “You and I need to talk,” Barry said. Irons looked into his eyes and then nodded. There was something there, something he didn't like. He looked down at the kids.

  “Why don't you go try out your new art skills. See who can do what. Maybe even talk to your parents and teachers. Maybe some of them have skills and can teach you more.”

  The kids waved and said goodbye, rushing out. Irons straightened and looked at Barry. “Something on your mind?” the admiral asked warily. Barry pulled him aside out of the view of the main bay.

  Clearly something was bothering the big man. He'd been avoiding Irons for a while now, only talking to him when he had to. Irons thought they had been getting along fine but obviously after Barry's trip ground side something had happened. He'd been too busy with the rush out to ask. Then he'd been distracted with the repairs and classes. He'd totally forgotten it. Until now that is. It looked like Barry was ready to get whatever he had off his chest.

  “You like kids,” Barry ground out.

  “The kids here are good,” Irons said with a nod looking towards the hatch. “Sometimes they remind me of my kids when they were growing up.”

  “You were a parent?” Barry asked, sounding surprised.

  Irons turned to him with a frown. There was something there, something in the tone. Something his instincts didn't like. “Yes. I had a life before... before the Xeno war. I had a family. I've been married. Married several times actually. Unfortunately the marriages didn't last, but there were fruits from some of them. Memories I will treasure,” he said wistfully.

  “I mean you like like kids,” Barry said grimly.

  “Not following Barry,” Irons said, tone clipped and formal. “Why don't you get what you've got on your chest off,” Irons said, eyes narrowed.

  “I went to a bar. On Triang,” Barry said, looking away. “When the shuttle was fixed. I... I heard some stories. About... well... you.”

  “Not all of them good I take it?” Irons asked, tone icy. His jaw set. He tried hard not to grind his teeth together. Barry shot him a look.

  The single look he shot Irons made the admiral scowl. He was pretty sure he knew what it was about now. The admiral's good mood evaporated.

  “That bitch,” Sprite hissed in his ear. Sprite is pissed Irons mused, even more than he is. He felt the annoyance, felt it swirl around, threatening to consume him. Realized he'd hoped he'd outrun it. Apparently that was too much to ask for. Now he was going to have to face it head on. No more running.

  “Barry... I did mention I left Pyrax because of politics right?” Barry nodded.

  “That never made sense to me. Why you left I mean.”

  The admiral closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them he was grimly ready to explain. “It's... complicated. Dirty tricks were employed. I...” Irons exhaled slowly, trying to remain coherent and in charge of his rising temper. Losing his temper wouldn't help in this situation.

  “What he said was true,” Sprite said forming a speaker in the admiral's arm. “But we left a part out. A part that's a problem.”

  “It's a long story but I think you need the unedited version,” the admiral said. He explained what happened with Sprite adding the holo recording to back him up. Barry didn't say a word. After it finished Barry nodded. His manner was different though, he was still cool but not grim or angry.

  “All right. I'm not sure who else knows about this but I'll keep a lid on it.”

  “Thanks Barry. I'm glad you kept an open mind,” Irons said. Barry winced and then nodded. He had tried to give the admiral the benefit of the doubt and ignore it. Not say anything. Now... now he wasn't sure who else knew. And he had no way of finding out. Asking around was out, if he did the grapevine would pick it up and it would make matters worse.

  Irons watched the big man leave, fists still clenched. He tried to sort out who else was avoiding him or giving him the evil eye. No one came to mind off hand.

  “This isn't good,” Sprite said, tone radiating concern.

  “You're telling me?” he said and sighed.

  Sprite is obviously concerned about the poisoning effect of the rumors. She doesn't hesitate to voice those concerns. “Just when I thought we'd gotten out of range of that crap,” Sprite muttered.

  “We'll deal with it,” Irons replied, busying himself with the repairs. “Having the truth and a video recording on our side doesn't hurt,” he replied. He tried to put the situation behind him.

  “You know that rumor... especially something as nasty and provocative as this has its own life no matter how you prove it isn't true. There were always the skeptics out there, always the people who think the worst of someone. And even with the good ones the memory will haunt them.”

  “I know Sprite,” he sighed. “But I can't help that.”

  “I'll keep an ear out for rumors.”

  “Do your best. But don't get to jumpy about it Sprite. That will seem like we've got something to hide. Even the truth isn't enough to stifle something like this.”

  “Birthers and tower nuts,” she said disgusted.

  “Come again?” Irons asked looking up. He hadn't expected the sudden shift in conversation. That was unlike Sprite. Maybe she was picking up some of his bad habits? She was overdue for some downtime and a recompile after all.

  “Conspiracy nuts. Quacks from the twentieth and twenty first century. People who were inherently skeptical of anything someone in authority said or didn't say. They could make up conspiracy theories and draw the most evil of intentions from anything or anyone,” Sprite replied.

  “True.”

  “Truth didn't matter into the equation. Even when proven wrong they didn't stop. Some would manipulate the situation to serve their own ends of course.”

  “Which is what we ran into in Pyrax. And we're still dealing with the fall out.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “You were about to explain the Birthers crack?”

  “Birthers believed that an American president in the early twenty first century wasn't an American citizen.”

  “So?”

  She sighed in exasperation. “So in the eyes of the law he wasn't legally allowed to be president. They hounded him for years about the subject. When he finally released his birth certificate they shut up briefly then the doubters started a
ll over again.”

  “Oh? Let me guess, they said it was an elaborate forgery?”

  “Yes,” Sprite sighed. “Of course members of the opposing party fueled the fires to bend and twist people for their own plans.”

  “Typical.”

  “Sometimes I don't understand organics. Even with mountains of evidence they still vehemently cling to their beliefs however wrong they are.”

  “True.”

  “The twin towers are another example. Can you believe even though the entire event was filmed, and for some shown live with tens of thousands of witnesses there were people who insisted the entire thing was staged and that there were no terrorists?”

  “Not following Sprite,” Irons said trying to tune her out a little as he kept working.

  “Twenty first century. Same decade as the birther mess but a few years before hand. A terrorist attack using aircraft to destroy ground targets in suicide attacks.”

  Irons winced as that sunk in. He paused, looking at her on the HUD. She nodded, looking coldly sober.

  “For years there were people out there who vehemently denied that the buildings could have fallen after being hit with aircraft and being on fire.”

  “Okay...”

  “We're talking large aircraft,” Sprite said, starting to rant. A flash of something called a 747 was put up on his HUD. It was replaced with video of the aircraft striking a towering building. He winced again.

  “And they doubted it?” he asked dubiously.

  “Of course! It's all a government conspiracy. No one really died, all a hoax, all a mass hallucination, the tower was brought down by explosives... the movies were computer forgeries... it goes on and on. Want to see?”

  He shook his head. “Pass. Somehow I missed this in history class,” Irons replied. “Or I'm not remembering it.”

  “Organic memory... fallible.”

  “Um, didn't we just replace memory in the ship's computer? Who's calling who fallible?” Irons riposted.

  “Touché',” she replied with a bit of annoyance. She hated it when he shot her down like that.