Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  “But it's something I've done before. On it,” Averies said with a disconnecting pop. Irons nodded.

  “When do you think you can get parts? I mean there is only so much your nanites can do admiral,” Myers said. The admiral cocked an eyebrow. Doctor Myers was quick and observant to have realized Irons had nanites.

  “I have a small industrial replicator in my shuttle keyed to me. It doesn't have raw material though. I've got a list going. If you can find some raw stocks?” He'd have to get to it to remake the nanites he realized. That was annoying.

  “I've got some in mind. I'll look into it,” Doctor Myers said with a nod. He had a virtual head and torso but was like the old Hollywood apparitions or genies. He had no legs just a wispy tail.

  “Good. We need bots. A couple of cargo bots, security bots, and most of all repair bots,” Irons said, looking at the Berkhearts.

  “I'll look into that,” Emily said with a smile. “You want them tagged with the closest proximity to this location of course?” she asked. Irons nodded. “Good to know. I'll be back in a jiff,” she said with a smile and wave. Her holo vanished.

  “Good woman,” Irons said nodding to Sid.

  “Sometimes I wonder why she married a dork like me,” Sid sighed, smiling. Irons smiled a familiar smile. Sid shook himself. “The Stewards are in but they are too busy in the net managing life support they said so they can't spare the time to say hi. I can keep track of the Dilgarth and the gangs. You want me to herd them away from special areas?”

  The admiral nodded. “Yes please. I'd like to clear a safe zone around admin, my shuttle and the nearest reactor. Safe paths as well if possible.”

  “I'm not sure about the paths but I think the rest is possible. They never come to admin anyway. Let me look into the rest,” Sid said with a nod as he blinked out.

  Sprite accessed the station's biographies of each of the surviving cybers to bring him up to speed on the other cybers and AI as each check in one by one. She dropped a hint about who they were and their specialty during each introduction. “May I introduce Gashg Ribber? The botanist?” Sprite said, turning as another apparition formed. This one was of a Gashg. Irons nodded.

  “I thank you admiral for your help,” The Gashg said. His virtual eyes rotated. The holo showed him aged, and for some reason covered in vines and lichen. “I'm old admiral, anything to ease my burden is welcome,” he said.

  “We'll try to get you back on track as soon as possible,” Irons said to the gardener bowing politely.

  “I must go. I need to check the nutrients in vat six. It keeps going out of balance,” the alien said vanishing.

  “Well that was quick,” Irons replied.

  “From my math we've got eight of the eighteen cybers on our side so far. The stewards haven't checked in with you because they are busy and aren't happy about all the damage you inflicted on your way in here,” Sprite reported.

  “I'll make it up to them later,” Irons replied dryly. “By my math that's seven Sprite. Where is number eight?”

  “Here she is now. Medical administrator, Megan Trask,” Sprite said, stepping aside as another holo presented itself.

  Irons nodded. The woman was small, almost mousy in appearance. She looked aged, wore wire rim glasses, and had a classic medical smock on complete with stethoscope. Her hair was an iron gray, short but with curled bangs. He wondered if she put on airs because she was in the medical field or if she really had been a doctor before. Data scrolled on one side of her hologram. Sprite was feeding his HUD the biography information from her file. He ignored most of it, Age, sex, marital history... none of that really mattered right now.

  “Thank you admiral. For doing this. For seeing me,” she said quietly and then adjusted her glasses. It was a mannerism that she had kept after centuries as an avatar. Facilitating in away. “I know I... we are all on thin ice. We haven't been doing our jobs,” she said, looking very uncomfortable.

  There was so much self loathing in that statement that Irons blinked and then his jaw hardened. He hated it when people did that, when they wallowed in self pity. “You've been doing your best in a strenuous situation,” Sprite murmured soothingly. She flashed a look of appeal to Irons when the woman looked away.

  “True,” Irons said. “I believe it's probably difficult to do your job when things are like this,” he said. He could understand their limits, after all they were in the computer net, connected to the real world through the network of computers and sensors instead of through flesh and blood.

  “You have no idea,” she sighed shaking her head. “No idea. At least when I was real, a doctor I had hands...” she held out her hands.

  “You were a medical doctor?” Sprite asked. “I'm sorry, I don't have access to your personnel files just your thumbnail on the web.”

  “Yes,” Doctor Trask said. She brushed her hair out of her eyes. It was so much of her identity that apparently it had stuck to her virtual image Irons thought. His repairs had apparently helped them with their self image, the avatars were better, more detailed now. Either that or the emitters and memory in admin was larger... he shook the thought off and forced himself to pay attention. “I was a general practitioner. I, like a lot of doctors opened my own practice. I did well; I became so popular that when the corporation's medical division set its sights on the planet I was on I was bought out. I took shares in lieu of my payment. The shares...” She shrugged.

  “Grew and grew?” Sprite asked smiling. “You reinvested?”

  Doctor Trask nodded. “It seemed appropriate. I had started another practice on another world and well... they offered me the same deal twenty years later. And this time options to stay with the company and join its ranks.”

  “Impressive,” Sprite said smiling to draw the woman out further.

  “I thought so. My husband wasn't impressed. I lost him after the kids were born. I well... It's old news now.” She dry washed her hands and then stuck them in the hip pockets of her smock.

  “It helps to get to know one another,” Irons rumbled. He didn't really need her life story, but something told him letting her talk would be good for her. It seemed like she hadn't talked to anyone in quite a while.

  “I... I took higher positions to make it easier on myself and my family. I had risen through the ranks to become a medical administrator. I realized it was easier to help a lot of people that way.”

  “True,” Sprite said. “More bang for your credit,” she said, giving Irons a look. “Some people have a hard time laying down the wrench though,” she teased with a smirk.

  “You can take the man out of the machine shop but you can't keep him out of there for long,” Irons replied with a half smile. “I understand your point of view doctor,” he said nodding in her direction.

  She seemed to nod, screwing up her courage. “Like a lot of people the thought of not growing old and keeping busy led me to this. I had my children; I lost my husband to a shuttle accident. I wanted to well... continue doing something.” She spread her hands to indicate the station.

  He nodded, uncertain. “Okay.”

  “I don't have hands to operate but I can teach. I've done that as well. I can... I can help,” she said quietly. “I want... I want to help,” she whispered.

  Irons suddenly understood and nodded again. “Good,” he said firmly.

  “What...”

  “Can you run a medical inventory? Systems, resources, and others. I need to know if you've got medical implants. Can you make medical nanites? What about equipment? Can you telepresence using remotes? Do you have any medical records for the people on the station?” he asked. She shook her head.

  “Family histories? Medical records for various outbreaks?” he asked trying to draw her out. There had to be something she had, even if it was dated. Reluctantly she nodded.

  “Okay. Work on the resources and the histories. Come up with a triage plan doctor. We'll work on it,” he ordered.

  “What about the...”

  He h
eld up a hand. “One step at a time. Triage doc. We'll save the ones we can. From there we'll build a new future,” he said smiling encouragingly. He felt it was needed. She hesitantly blossomed into a smile of her own. It was like watching a flower slowly open. He felt his own smile tug at his lips. The smile was natural now, not an artificial thing he had started with.

  Emily appeared near his field of view. As her holo stabilized she appeared surprised and gratified to see the doctor. “Megan!” she smiled in delight. Her eyes were glad and welcoming. She held a hand out to her friend.

  The medic smiled back timorously. “Time to get back to work,” she said huskily. Emily nodded as her hand drifted down.

  When she left Emily looked on for a long moment, deep in thought. Finally she turned to the admiral. “I honestly thought we'd lost her. One of my best friends over the years. A veritable rock in here. She...” she dashed a virtual tear with her fingertips. “She is a good woman but even rocks wear down in time,” she said, voice foggy with surprised tears and sobs.

  “True,” Irons said with a nod, letting her get control of her emotions. Under such conditions he could see the people in the net slowly going insane or giving up hope and succumbing to catatonia or committing virtual suicide.

  “She was all but lost, just really going through the motions the past century. There wasn't anything for her to do. We couldn't treat the gangs and the Dilgarth. I mean we tried but we could only use aerosols or treat their food. It wasn't enough. I saw what it was doing to her, grinding away at her... But...” She smiled hopefully. “Now...”

  He nodded. “Now she has something to look forward to. Something to focus on again. We'll make it happen.” He was wondering how rusty the doctor was. And how well she could operate a teleoperated robot. He'd have to find out, but they'd have to take baby steps.

  “Anyway, I wanted to tell you we've tracked down some of the robots you've requested. The closest is in the closet nearby. It had been functional but Draco locked it down so the rest of us can't use it,” she said indicating a closet nearby. He looked over to the hidden utility closet. Now that he focused on it his sensors picked up the battery pack of a robot behind the door. It was barely charged. Great.

  “Myers is digging into the raw material loads. If we can get at least one reactor up... do you think it's possible?”

  “Of course it is,” Irons said with a nod. “I've done it before. It just takes time and effort. We'll get it done. Can you run down the specs on the reactors for me? And do you have any intel on the gangs? Tribes or whatever they are? How they are organized, families, skills, territories, habits, that sort of thing?”

  “I don't have the data on the reactors, I never knew that part of the station,” Emily said shaking her head. “There is one functioning reactor, it's at idle now. Most of the engineering systems have been locked down by Draco so we can't interfere with them.”

  Irons nodded. That apparently was a good idea, these people were mostly clueless. There was no telling... but then again was it any smarter to leave an insane AI in charge of engineering? He thought. “I'll have Sprite look for it then,” Irons replied.

  “Tell her to be careful! Draco can be viscous,” Emily cautioned, hand out.

  “Lovely,” Sprite said dryly.

  “I can get you what we've observed of the tribes. I really haven't logged much time there. I think some of the others have, but I don't know if they continued taking notes after Doctor...” she hesitated.

  “Since your friend retreated. Okay,” Irons nodded.

  “We tried to work with the survivors the first century but one by one they died and the others either didn't respond to us or avoided us. A couple of our people did watch them for the second century or so off and on. I think it was some sort of social observation experiment for them. That's what they called it anyway. Sid thought it was a soap opera to them. Soap opera or reality show. It helped anchor a few of us. Sid... I know watching them helps anchor him. He likes to tell me stories of what this person or that person has done that is funny or stupid.”

  “It's normal,” Irons smiled. “Humans are social creatures. We share experiences to keep us sane. Observing them isn't as good, but it helps.”

  “True,” Emily said with a nod. “I'll check on that though for you. Anything else?”

  “Can you coordinate with the Kiev? Perhaps if they hear a new voice it will encourage the captain to allow some of his people to volunteer to come back over,” Irons said.

  “I can try, but I don't think it's safe,” she said.

  “Try,” Irons said. He realized her not believing in what she would be saying would undermine her whole argument. “I'll try to make it safe. We'll try to make it safe I mean. Together,” he said firmly.

  She nodded, eyes fixed on him. “All right. I will try,” she said. “It would be nice to see this place alive once more,” she murmured and blinked out.

  “Admiral, about the data...” Sprite said cautiously.

  “Pick up whatever is lying around but don't go fishing too deep. Use a bot system. Use an indexer as cover. I don't want you tangling with a rogue AI.”

  “I'll have the bot drop things in a remote buffer. Pass it through several filters and screen it for viruses before I take it in,” she said.

  “You do that. I realize it will slow the data gathering down. Just be careful,” he cautioned.

  “Thank you admiral, I intend to,” Sprite said, sounding much relieved. He nodded. Tangling with a rogue AI was difficult. It could very well infect another AI with its madness. Caution was the order of the day there.

  “Admiral, if you have any hope of repairing this place we need to make it safe. Which means doing something about the gangs and the Dilgarth. Starting with the Dilgarth,” Sprite said. She sounded exasperated. Irons could see why. They had their share of impossible projects before, but this station... wow.

  “I vote we space the lot,” Myers said tiredly. Irons gave the cyber a long look. Myers shrugged it off. “It was a mistake bringing them on. I don't know what we were thinking at the time,” he said tiredly.

  “We were thinking expense of course,” Sid said with a sideways smile. “They came cheap. Apparently too cheap.”

  “Security force?” Irons asked. The two cybers nodded.

  “We paid for their transit here and augmentation.”

  “Augmentation... are they linked?” Irons asked.

  “No no, they had basic implants. No I meant adapting them to this environment and well... the spine launchers,” Sid said uncomfortably.

  Myers looked away. His jaw was set. After a long moment he blew his cheeks in and out a few times and then exhaled. It was interesting to see a hologram do that. “Yeah, not one of my better ideas,” he finally admitted.

  “You think?” Sid asked shaking his virtual head. “Spine launchers and adapting them to the station. We contracted a Ynari to do the job. Simple really, make the spine launchers and change their skin to allow them to adapt to the environment in the station. I didn't know they wanted a chrometophore ability until after it was approved. That was rescinded of course, the predator laws prevented it. I think the Fu's were involved in that fight. I was busy with a rich asteroid and a dispute between subcontractors at the time. I remember they settled on the corporate colors instead.”

  “That explains that,” Sprite said looking at the admiral. Irons nodded. He'd wondered about the off white and purple mask and trim.

  “Anyway, they asked that the changes be made permanent so that their prodigy wouldn't need to be changed if and when they signed on to the corporation. Since it would save us money in the long run the accountants were on board. And we would have only a slightly higher up front expense but wouldn't have to reinvest in the project again so we agreed. Wrote it off in the end.”

  “Wrote it off as a tax rebate you mean,” Sprite said with a sniff. “And the people of the station have been paying for it every day since.”

  “Don't remind me,” Myers
said, wiping his face and mouth with one hand. He turned to Irons and spread his hands helplessly.

  “I've... we've been paying for it too. The Fu's voted against the idea and have been beating us over the head with it ever since. It's undermined everything we do, every argument since. They keep pointing to it as an example of how wrong I was.”

  “Ouch,” Sprite said.

  “We all make mistakes,” Irons rumbled. “There aren't any easy answers. We do the best with what we've got and what we know at the time, second guessing this far out from the time period is pointless. Hindsight is always twenty twenty. The best we can do is learn from it and move on.”

  “Well, it's been something the Fu's have been beating over our heads for some time,” Sid said darkly.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. So doing something about them would help.”

  “In other words politics,” Sprite said.

  “I just want to contain them,” Sid replied spreading his hands.

  “Not kill them?” Myers sounded surprised.

  “I vote we space the lot and let the spirits of space sort them out,” Sid said. Irons however shook his head.

  “They were sentient. Or at least their ancestors were. If we can contain them I'd prefer it. Medical staff can do something about them someday hopefully. We need to box them.”

  “Box?” Myers asked.

  “Box,” Irons said, putting his hands out to mime a box. “We're in a box. What we do is make the box smaller and smaller, driving or luring them into a smaller containment area.” His hands slowly compressed into a tight container. “That makes the rest of the station safer to work in. Do we know where their nests are?”

  “Nests?” Sid asked. For someone who had hired the Garthian's you would of thought he would have done some research on the subject. Then again he might have forgotten or overlooked it. Some people were uncomfortable with reproductive data.

  “Garthians usually lay more than one nest. It's an insurance policy. Programmed into their genetics I think. Survival instinct,” the admiral explained.