He'd come to realize what an error he had made when they had released them after the vote. He had expected accusations, expected an argument but to his surprise there had been none. Just a maniacal giggle and they were gone. Scattered to the far corners of the net.
His eyes opened. Slowly he drew the pictogram of Draco. Draco had found out of course. He knew. He had acted, cutting off Fu's ability to ever touch the insane ones again. He had raged at Fu, in private though. Which was why when they had proven their insanity he was helpless to act.
His eyes closed again in familiar pain. Yes. He'd made a terrible error. One that many, all too many paid for with their lives. He regretted that. Regretted it deeply. But it was his burden, his cross to bear.
He hadn't anticipated Draco's response either. The cold way the AI had cut off support, had stopped repairs and cut him and the others off from the station. The AI couldn't undo what had been done but had been determined to prevent it from ever happening again. And in so doing the AI had further tied his hands, preventing him from doing what was right.
None of them had known that Draco hadn't been insane. Not then. Perhaps never but again, the past was done; Draco was gone as if he had never existed.
None of the others knew. One by one most of the peace faction involved in the trap had died or gave up hope and lost themselves in dream. And he, HE! He had been forced to cut them off. To kill his friends. The admiral didn't know that agony. That pain. No. He was certain that the admiral killed without remorse. It was after all in him.
But that was the rub. It was in him again. In him. He opened his eyes. A drop of paint had fallen onto the wrong spot. No matter. A flick of a thought and the drop was gone, as if it never existed.
His wife's actions haunted him. She had never spoken out against him. Never in all this time together. Now she supported Irons. He could see it in her eyes. She hadn't come out again and said it, but she did. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know if he could do anything.
“Like a leaf in the wind,” he murmured and bent forward to paint once more.
Sparks looked up to see a familiar male approaching. He waved the admiral over and then poked his partner. Freeze looked up in annoyance and then turned as Sparks pointed to Irons. “Admiral!” he said with a welcoming smile. Irons turned around. “Over here!” Sparks said, waving.
“Something I can do for you gents?” Irons asked, smiling politely as he strolled through the light crowd. People parted around them, too busy on their own tasked to realize who was in their way.
“Are you really going sir?” Freeze blurted out without thinking.
Irons sighed. He'd heard that same question a lot lately. He nodded. “It looks that way.”
“Too bad. I was looking forward to becoming a yard worker,” Sparks said.
“Yard dog,” Irons murmured. “We call them yard dogs.”
“Oh,” Sparks wrinkled his nose.
“Old story,” Irons replied with a smile. “You can still build a small yard or servicing station.”
“We can?” Freeze asked, looking at his partner with wide eyes before turning his stare on Irons. “How?”
“Save up your money. Come up with a plan, get some investors and then build a small place. A dock or something. Take on odd jobs like fixing stuff for other people or fixing ships when they come into port. When you've got enough expand.”
“Is it possible?” Sparks asked. He rubbed the back of his head. He was just a techie; he didn't know anything about business.
“Talk to your families. It's possible. Talk to your friends. See if any of them are interested or interested in investing in the project. In fact look up a neo couple, Savo and Petunia. They are a primate EVA tech and a security sector chief with too much time on his hands who might be interested in helping. There is another pair, um,” Sprite helpfully put the names up on his HUD for him. “Yeah, a pair of neochimp welders, Howi and Shari. Both are pretty cool and might be interested. Get some of the council interested like the Warners and have someone with business skills and you'll be able to pull it off.”
“Thanks,” Freeze said with a nod.
“I can have Sprite send you a build plan. A simple one if you are interested in it.”
“Really?” Freeze asked shocked. “Sure! I mean wow that would be all right!”
Sparks rolled his eyes and pointed his thumb at his friend. “Don't mind him, stars in his eyes,” he said.
“We all get that way sometimes,” Irons said with a nod and small smile. “Now, if you'll excuse me I've got a date with a replicator.”
“Thanks admiral,” Freeze said. He reached out with one hand. Irons paused and then realized he was offering a hand to shake. He shook the man's hand, and then Sparks.
“Keep working hard, keep looking forward. One step at a time gentlemen, don't get discouraged if things don't work out the right way at first. Keep plugging,” he said.
“Thanks admiral. We'll try,” Freeze said, looking at his partner. Sparks nodded firmly.
“That's all I ask. That and take care of each other and your families. If I don't see you again, good luck and safe haven.”
“Fair sailing sir,” Sparks said soberly, waiving as Irons left.
“Now there goes a class act.”
“Who's really getting shafted. After everything he did for us. That sucks,” Freeze growled, turning and kicking a can. The can clattered down the corridor.
“Ain't that the truth,” Sparks muttered. He sighed looking at the wiring job in front of him. “Come on. Let's get this done and then move on like the man said.”
“Did you see that?” Kennet demanded waving a virtual hand. “He could have encouraged them to revolt! To stop working!” He and a few of the other cybers were zealously watching the admiral's every move, listening and picking apart his every word. It didn't help that Irons didn't set himself up for anything, he just kept working.
Warner shook his head. “But he didn't.”
“But he could have,” the other cyber insisted.
“But he didn't,” Emily said. “He could have encouraged a sick out. A work stop, all sorts of things. But he's not doing that. It says a lot about the man's character.”
“I'd say he's beaten and he knows it,” Averies said, sounding unhappy.
“You don't sound so enthused by that,” Kennet demanded.
“That's because I'm not. I've gotten to know the man. He's going through the motions now but he's already thinking of what he's going to do next. Not one move ahead but six or seven. I've played chess against him. He's a nice guy; he'll give you the shirt off his back if he thinks it will help, but if you kick him enough...”
“We haven't kicked him!” Kennet said indignantly. “We've just asserted ourselves!”
“Haven't we?” Emily asked softly, watching the admiral as he walked into the replicator control room. He made his acquaintances with the people on duty and then went straight to work. “He only wanted to help. We were desperate for that help at first. We took it like a man in vacuum in need of oxygen. He gave us life once more. He gave us a reason to live, renewed direction and purpose. He only asked us to help him. But now we've decided for better or for worse that we didn't want his direction, and after everything he's done we've shut him out and then needled him. Well you have,” she said turning cold eyes on Kennet. “You and Fu and the others. Averies is right. He's an honorable man. It's a pity it has to be this way.”
Kennet's eyes flared. “It's... not like that!”
“Really?”
“I mean he... I... He encouraged them into...” Kennet sputtered, suddenly unsure.
“Into what? Into going into business for themselves? What's the harm in that? We will be gracious sellers won't we?” Sid Berkheart asked. “The tide of resentment over his treatment is increasing. I think the only thing keeping it all in check is Irons refusal to tap that resentment.”
“He'll leave soon,” Emily said sadly.
“He can't! We nee
d him!” Kennet said, aghast as Irons plugged the keys in. He knew better then to try to clone the keys now. They changed each time apparently. Irons never had rebuilt the replicator they had fried. When the admiral left... “He won’t! He won’t go!”
“It's done. You'll see,” Averies said quietly, turning away.
Irons was knee deep in replicating parts after three hours. He's amused that they were watching him closely, ticking off each tray of parts when it's finished. They even had a cyber watching both him and Sprite in the net while an inspection team watched him in the real world. Talk about paranoid. The contract had specified no weapons at all. Nothing for his naval project. He was limited to what he wanted for his ship and that was it.
He had retaliated by limiting what he would replicate. In careful thought of what the legal ramifications of handing such technology over to civilians were of course. They hadn't seen it that way though but tough. Two could act badly. Tit for tat. He felt a little childish but damn it they'd pissed him off!
He also refused to replicate any more then was in the contract. No emergency requisitions they tried to pass off on him at the last minute. No more, no less. He ignored any last minute additions or items slipped into the list that weren't agreed to beforehand. The agreed upon list was all he was doing and he had his own copy so when they tried to pull that stunt he'd cc's a copy of it and then left. That was it. They were getting a thirty to one advantage; he didn't want them getting greedy after all.
They were determined to keep him under their thumb. He could have of course quit, used the replicators he had to make something, but what was the point? Right now sentiment was firmly against him. The man on the street was being torn, most on the station were sympathetic to him but the politicians were steering things against him. Sentiment on the ground was firmly against him and rising. Things were going to boil over soon. The media of course was playing a part, showing tidbits of his recordings. Edited of course, they claimed they were edited for brevity but they took most of what he said out of context and twisted it all around. He was tired of the crap and wanted out.
"Admiral, we've got an issue," Sprite said slowly. She wasn't sure how he'd react to this set of news. She was annoyed that the cybers had tried to block her from finding it out. She had thought that the Berkhearts and Warners were allies. Apparently alliances were shifting in cyberspace. Loyalties had a price. She wondered what they could have been offered to induce them to go along with this?
"Oh?" he asked.
"Yes," she said slowly, she looked a little embarrassed and contrite on the HUD.
"Spit it out Sprite," he said, finishing the key coding sequence for these fuel injectors. There were thirty on the tray, plus the spare injectors for his ship's reactor. Each had to be fitted, tested, tuned, and then tied into the rest of the system and then synched up. If a single piece of microscopic debris got involved it became a royal headache. There was a reason some manufacturers had done jobs like this in a clean room and kept the injectors vacuum packed until assembly. Unfortunately he couldn't.
He was down to spares now. He'd completed the critical things, his larger more powerful class one military grade industrial replicator right off just in case they pulled something. From there the critical lists, his wish list, and now spares. Or at least spares once these were finished and installed or stored. Technically they weren't critical, he could get away with using the existing ones, but why not replace them and be done with it?
"Well, it seems the Antiguans, or concerned citizens have petitioned the court to take Phoenix back," Sprite's tone had air quotes all over that statement. He knew who she was talking about. It was hardly surprising someone would try something, even if it was out of spite.
"Oh?" he asked focusing intently on what he has going on in front of him. "Fat lot of good that will do, we covered our back sides already," he said with a sniff of amusement. Didn't they know Federation courts trumped Civilian? Since he was the only Federation officer in the system he was it. Besides, Phoenix had been registered as an official Naval dispatch boat! His navy, Federal navy.
She nodded, eyes troubled. "Which they are finding out right now. You were right."
"Really," he said sarcastically. Something told him this would be the last tray. Fortunately he had put his hyperdrive parts through earlier this morning and they were loaded on the ship. He could now make what he needed once it was assembled. As long as he had power and materials of course. He'd already refueled the ship so that wasn't a problem.
They were cutting their own throats if they pushed it any further really. He had the replicators on Phoenix and his launch; with them he could finish restoring the ship. Technically he didn't need to continue helping them. It was just taking time away from repairing the ship. But he had hoped that a last minute outbreak of sanity would prevail on the opposition’s side. He'd been a fool to think that. They were too entrenched in their beliefs and ideology. Too committed to the bread and circuses the mayors had promised.
"Yes. I think they didn't realize that the Golden Dew Drop ship had been turned over to the Navy as a dispatch vessel during the Xeno war and therefore was still on the books as a Naval vessel."
Irons smiled. DB-1701E. He had to love that choice bit of irony, that they couldn't touch her. The cyber lawyers should have known better than to have tried. "True. Why are you telling me this again?" he asked amused. "I already went over this remember?" They had even filed to change the ship's name to Phoenix he thought.
"Just recapping admiral. As I was saying, we filed a Federal salvage claim when the ship was recovered and it was recognized by the station court and the planetary courts. When she was restored to partial service we meaning me filed the necessary court documents. I covered the paper trail. None were opposed." She was pretty certain that they hadn't opposed it for this very reason. At the time they had wanted the admiral to leave. Now they realized he was the key to the galaxy and they didn't want him going anywhere. Talk about ironic!
"I know Sprite," he said trying not to roll his eyes. He looked over to the Veraxin tech working nearby. The tech was busy watching another tray forming while listening to tribal drums. Veraxin's loved a good drum beat, the low frequency vibrations were stimulating to them.
"I'm getting to my point now sir. Apparently they tried to claim that there wasn't proper time for notification of possible plaintiffs and therefore the previous court rulings should be nullified," Sprite said formally. He grunted in irritation.
"Interesting. A stretch though," he finally said rubbing his jaw. "There aren't any surviving parties to warrant an intervention. There also isn't a Federal court to file in. With the right judge though..."
He wondered how far they would take this. Would he have to declare the ship as property of the navy, stand his ground and if necessary flee the system as a fugitive? Wouldn't that be nice! He thought with a bitter twist of his lips. Quite the feather in his cap. He was really living up to his Pyraxian example here!
Sprite shook her head. "That they didn't get. The judge saw through the gambit when I helpfully pointed it out to him this morning." She was pretty sure politics were in this. From what it looked like under the surface Randall had tried to stall their departure and one of his competitors had placed the judge to squelch it. Or the judge could be a real independent. Who knows, stranger things have been known to happen.
"This was going on this morning? Why am I just being told?" he demanded.
"I found out at the last minute. The cybers tried to keep me out of the loop. And get this, someone on the station council tried to block my communications privileges when I found out. I ended up going through Phoenix's systems to connect to the courts."
"Really!" he said nostril's dilating in anger. From her tone Sprite wasn't at all happy about doing that. Nor did she sound happy about having to admit that to him either. Somehow he was pretty sure she wasn't going to resist leaving as much anymore.
"Yes, and I made sure that was brought to the jud
ge's attention as well. He wasn't amused by it. Access to the courts is supposed to be unrestricted by all parties. He's ordered an investigation. The plaintiffs in the form of D'red are claiming a misunderstanding and dropped the suit. That dropped the investigation."
Irons swallowed a cynical smile. "Funny how that worked out."
"Isn't it?" she asked. Right on cue a file appeared in his inbox. "But it looks like this party is at an end. You have an e-mail from the council saying your services are on hold."
"Oh? So I'm no longer needed?" he asked amused as he prepared himself to get up. “I had figured as much already Sprite,” he said as he unjacked. He got up off the couch when the tray was completed. Robotic arms were swinging into action in the replicator bay, clearing the tray and then sorting out what went where.
"Not exactly. What they are saying is that they ah, get this. They still want your services, but on retainer. Available upon request in a moment's notice. Open ended."
"Oh hell with that," he said shaking his head and stretching. "Please bring up Paragraph VII clause B. The contract is only good while I am on station and both parties are acting in good faith. Clause C states that either party can terminate the contract at any time. And I am leaving. Once I am on Phoenix and underway it's voided." He didn't like having to tell them that, but he had no choice.
"I think I'll wait until you are half way off the station before sending that if you don't mind admiral,” Sprite said dryly.
“Good idea,” he said glancing at the Veraxin in the room. He didn't need them throwing up any last minute road blocks or starting a physical altercation. Once he was off the station they couldn't try to brig him on some trumped up charge. “Set it for a delayed return,” he sub vocalized.
“Already done admiral. I think their little delaying tactic backfired," Sprite said.
"It did help my resolve a little," he said getting up and following the robotic forklift out. He would be on Phoenix in less than an hour as long as there weren't any problems in transit. The docks and cargo corridors weren't at max capacity but there were the occasional accidents or bottlenecks now to slow things up. They were even talking about appointing a traffic coordinator.
Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) Page 81
