Sprite chuckled in his ear. "Where are they finding them? It’s a character festival!" the AI laughed. He snorted.
"You're no princess yourself you know," Irons smiled and then turned.
"John Henry Irons get your butt up here!" He froze at the tone and turned. Mrs. Valdez and the Doc were glaring at him. Both had their hands on their hips. Doc looked amused.
"Oops, busted..." Sprite teased. He sighed as Mrs. Valdez crossed her arms.
"Your concern is touching. You could have warned me you know," he sighed.
“And have you duck out?” He opened his mouth to retort but Doc beat him to it.
"Admiral, I do believe you have a date with some food and rest." He looked back to the two women. The Doc was playing with her stethoscope looking amused. Mrs. Valdez had her arms crossed. Her fingers were tapping in tempo with her right foot. She was giving him her best "You've been naughty look." Several people in the corridor beside him looked amused. One girl smothered a giggle. "Let's go mister. March." She pointed.
He sighed. "As if I didn't have enough to worry about. Who appointed you two my keepers?" he asked exasperated.
The doctor smiled then gave a throaty laugh.. "It's your own fault. Besides, didn't I read that Admirals had stewards and staff to keep after them? You've gone two days without sleep so it's time for a break. Matilda can manage things on her own for eight hours," she smiled. She looked a bit tired herself.
"Yeah yeah," he sighed. "All right, I'm going, I'm going. I feel like a teenager caught out after curfew," he said shaking his head as he made his way to the lift.
"It will be here when we get back I promise. I'll keep an eye on things," Sprite echoed the Doc word for word. He sighed.
"Lead on MacDuff." He motioned to Mrs. Valdez. She hooked her arm through his and then led him into the lift.
"You really are impossible you know that? I thought you'd crashed by now but Matilda said you were still at it. You're no spring chicken you know." She shook her head tisk tisking. He felt the tips of his ears blush as the doors shut on the laughter.
"All right, it looks like by folding most of the day care specialists into the elementary and grammar school levels we've covered the basic staff positions for those two, but we still have holes in our high school and college level courses. Anyone have any ideas on how to fill the gaps?" Matilda looked around the table.
Irons smiled inwardly. Matilda had only been onboard for a couple of days but she was already proving worth her weight in any rare metal you named. Who ever had canned her for a newer model was a moron.
The Admiral shrugged. "If we don't have the warm bodies we can detail an AI to do the job for now, it won’t be as good as a warm body, but it should suffice for now."
Obviously the Trinity project had been compromised. When he had gotten up he'd ended the secrecy ban as the only member of the Federation Navy remaining. Defender had not been happy but had taken the order under protest.
Matilda nodded slowly. "All right, I agree, though I think we can find someone. We will also need substitute teachers. Can we shift some of the priorities from electives to basics and build around the core program? Maybe get some of our specialists to teach basics as well?" she asked.
He nodded. "Good point. They can teach at least one or two basic courses, especially if they are related to their field of interest. That should plug a few holes and let them identify new students with the same interests as they rise through the ranks."
He nodded to Periwinkle who frowned then nodded reluctantly. "I can teach a high school course or two in history. I think we can swing Kevin to do an intro to music and math." He looked over to Matilda who nodded. The Admiral took a sip of coffee and sat back.
It had been an interesting week getting things set up, but now things were settling in nicely. The entire station, at least the non luxury castes were realigning neatly, almost like iron filings to a magnet. There had even been a journalist down here taking notes and something about a broadcast later that day.
Doctor Standish and Thornby had complained about being swamped with eager people, but she had picked up a few midwifes and self taught healers and was already hammering them with class room theory. Their real world, hands on approach made it much easier for her to get past the basics but she was complaining about having to un-teach a few bad habits.
"I'm glad the clinic's up, we needed it," Matilda smiled softly. Her routine checkup had turned into anything but, Doc had detected a small tumor. A single nanite made pill had dissolved the tumor in less than an hour. The scare had put her focus on the program with a strong conviction to make sure it worked.
"I've got a parent teacher meeting in twenty, I'll read this other brief and give you my notes on it later," Periwinkle got up and shoved his notes into his bag and left. Matilda nodded. "I hear you've got the first platform out to the gas giant, did you really have some of your lecture students in on it?" she looked over to the Admiral who shrugged.
"Seemed like a good idea at the time. I didn't expect one of them to spill the coffee on the second platform though." He grimaced. That accident had been costly, the entire electronics module had been soaked in coffee, forcing them to rebuild it from scratch. The last thing they needed was to get the platform out into space then have the thing short out. That had cost them a day. After that his fabrication team were a bit more circumspect about letting any food or drink within their domain, let alone on their deck! They were learning clean room procedures the hard way. Sometimes experience was the only way to learn.
"We lost a couple days but they did learn a lesson so I guess it helped in the end. Sergio is going out to pick up the first load sometime next week." Sprite pulled up a calendar. "Right, he's going out Friday. He should have quite a load." He shook his head. "What about the diplomatic efforts you were doing, did that bear fruit?" she asked. He shook his head with a grimace.
"Not as much as I would hope. We've got some interest in a few places, but more charity requests than trade or partnership. Help us but we'll call you, don't call us we'll call you." He shook his head. "When they hear I am an Admiral they usually clam up and tune out or turn off. The Port Admiral really poisoned people. The very idea of working with an Admiral is anathema to them." He sighed as he stretched and got up.
"Well, keep at it. What am I saying, you will anyway." Matilda chuckled as she left. He looked over to Sara who was trying to hide a smile.
"Cute." He shook his head. Matt chuckled. Matt was representing the hands on trade classes. Sara was the representative for the medics. She groaned as she got to her feet. Matt looked concerned but she waved his reaching hands away with a smile and light pat on her belly.
"I can't wait until I pop. I think all this weight is going to be the death of me!" she shook her head. The Doc had been treating her with supplements, large amounts of food, and even a nanite cocktail designed to restore her body to its proper weight. She had filled out in the past week and her cheeks weren't so sunken. Her hips had widened and her belly had started to bulge.
"You think this is bad, wait a month. You'll wish you were back to this stage," the Admiral chuckled. Matt gave him a dirty look but relented as Sara smiled at him. He had to admit, she was practically glowing.
"You'll love me anyway right?" he thawed and then started to smile.
"You know it." She wrapped her arms around him. The Admiral chuckled as he left.
"Admiral I am getting another call for an interview from mister Knox the journalist. I think you should take it," Sprite informed him. He paused and turned then went into a nearby empty room and stopped.
"You know how I hate reporters Sprite," he said through clenched teeth.
"Yes Admiral, but if you want to get word out, and get through this resistance to your diplomatic efforts then this is the way to do it. Sometimes you just have to take your medicine." Sprite pulled up her avatar and sat across from him. She was dressed conservatively, in a dark business suit, glasses, and hair bun.
&
nbsp; He chuckled. "Cute, but you’re not a civilian remember?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Oh very well,” she said disgusted. She frowned then twitched. Her image changed back into her silver uniform.
"Better," he sighed as he began to pace. "What I hate most is that he can spin me anyway he pleases. If he is in the pay of someone else..." He shook his head.
"I have not received any indications that he spins material for others that often Admiral. True he does do infomercials and commercials for products on the station, but that apparently pays for his power and life support. Most of his pay comes from donations." The AI pulled up a chart.
"Right. Can we subsidize him? Give him a little carrot to keep him in line so we don't have a problem?" he asked pausing.
"I don't see how, he refuses to be bought. He does accept help from the Logans and others from time to time though," Sprite informed him.
He nodded. "A man of principle. I can work with that. If he isn't a reborn liberal flack with tofu for brains." He shook his head.
"I think you need to do this Admiral. It will get the word out and it might bring him to our side. That could accelerate your time table." Sprite pulled up his outline but he waved it off.
"When can we meet?" he asked.
"You've got a three thirty with the command staff, and a firm five pm supper, so possibly after that?" Sprite asked. He nodded. "Accessing... interesting. He is amused about your Valdez supper, apparently he has heard about that." The Admiral's grimace turned into a forced chuckle.
"Whatever works in our favor."
“Mr. Knox says he can take you now or after seven," Sprite finished.
"Now sounds good, give me a map and tell him I am on my way," he nodded and exited the room.
"How do I look?" Irons asked as he tugged at the hem of his work cover all.
"Sure you don't want to change into your dress uniform?" Sprite teased. He sighed. "Right, you're fine." Sprite pulled up a security camera feed from behind him. He turned. "Fluff on your right bicep." He looked over and flicked it off. His work coverall was his standard outfit, a basic navy coverall with the subdued rank insignia on his shoulders, collar, and forearms. His right shoulder had the flag of the Federation, the left was bare.
The door opened and a young man blinked at him. "Can... can I help you?" the man asked tentatively. He gave the Admiral a look.
"I have an appointment with Mr. Knox," he nodded to the young man. The young man looked startled then nodded.
"You don't look like an Admiral." His eyebrows were beetled together in thought. Irons chuckled.
"And you've met how many?" he asked stepping into the room.
"Um ah..." The boy looked down and then pointed. "He's in the studio, through there turn left then right." Irons nodded and went on his way with a smile. He dodged an elf who didn't even look up as she sprinted down the corridor.
"Hurry up! We've lost the number two feed again!" a voice called. He turned. "Anything I can do to help?" he asked looking into the dark electronics cabinet. "Not unless you can rewire a series forty four microwave transmitter in three minutes," a voice snarled.
"As it happens, I can." The Admiral stepped into the cabinet and looked at the work station. The transmitter was torn apart, it's innards scattered over several bay units. Wiring draped here and there, some to civilian parts, others to military ones.
"Admiral there are several military.." He waved Sprite off.
"Here." He raised his right arm and let Proteus go to work. The elf stepped back with a high pitched squeak. After a minute of work Irons frowned. "The encrypt module is fried. I can't help you there. I've run a bypass through your GNU, try it now." He felt his arm return to normal as he turned to the tech.
The tech's wide goat like eyes blinked at him for a moment then the tech tapped at a tablet nearby. "It works!" He turned back to the Admiral who shrugged. "How.. I " The tech rubbed at his goatee.
"No problem. Let me know if you need another hand." He turned to note an older bald man standing there.
"Granny did you get the transmitter.. oh!" He looked at the Admiral in surprise. "Take a wrong turn I take it?" He asked.
The Admiral chuckled. "Not exactly, but not too far off the mark. I heard Granny here having trouble and stuck my nose in. Hope you don't mind." He shrugged.
"He fixed the transmitter. His arm..." He motioned to the Admiral's arm.
"What about it? Seems fine to me. This way Admiral." The man motioned him out. "I'm Knox by the way. Thanks for that, whatever you did." The Admiral chuckled. "No problem." He followed the man into the studio. He felt Sprite tapping the circuitry in the room and surrounding area. "Impressive," he nodded as he sat on an indicated stool. The man handed him a headset.
"That won’t be necessary." He waved it off. Sprite had already established a link and was ready.
“Seriously...” a tech said holding a headset. Irons shook his head and tapped his jaw.
“I've got it covered.”
"Suit yourself." Knox looked over to a tech who was counting down. "We're on in five.. four.." She switched to fingers. When she got to one Knox yodeled. The Admiral tried not to roll his eyes as his host went into his introductory act. "And we have a special guest in studio today loyal listeners, that's right, the one, the only Fleet Admiral Irons! You've heard about him by now, he's been the talk of the system tearing into Anvil, rebuilding the station. Is it true you’re a sleeper?" he asked.
"Yes, I was picked up nearly two years ago. I came here on Io11." He nodded. Knox's eyes went wide when he realized the Admiral's voice was transmitted to his equipment.
"How?" he started. "Well you are full of surprises." He shook his head. "All right, for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of seeing the Admiral, he's a tall fellow, wearing a navy issue coverall probably dating back to the Xeno war. Why not a more.. formal uniform Admiral?” He looked over to the Admiral who smiled.
"I am a working Admiral, I prefer to get my hands dirty." He shrugged.
"I heard. It looks like you did a bang up job repairing my microwave transmitter." Knox looked away. The tech gave him a thumbs up. "Now, there are persistent rumors that you are the Port Admiral in disguise, his clone, or a relation..."
Irons scowled. "First, I have no familial relations here that I know of. I am not a clone of anyone. I am a Fleet Admiral in the Federation navy." He shrugged again.
"You mean you were right?" Knox asked smiling.
"No, I am," Irons answered softly.
"But Admiral, the Federation is dead," his host reminded him.
"No, not while I and others like me exist. We will restore the Federation," he nodded to the startled host.
"Well, a man after my own heart! You intend to rebuild the Federation?" he asked.
"Of course, It's better than wallowing in the dark waiting for the life support to fail right?" He gave the reporter a challenging look.
"Okay you've got me there. You're right. So, you had a hand in rebuilding the reactors? The Port Admiral claims he did it. He traded parts with the Io for what Logan needed," Knox replied.
"No, I did that. The crew of Io 11 and I spent the past fifteen months rebuilding her. When I arrived here I set in to rebuild the Valdez family tug business with them, then when I was informed about the power problem I stepped in and lent a hand. The exec has been a great help clearing the way for me. Chief Logan has done an excellent job training the staff." He nodded to the tech who blushed and looked away.
Knox followed his gaze then snapped back to the Admiral. "Speaking of training, what is with your newest project? A college? Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?"
Irons laughed. "Not at all. We have hundreds of eager people ready and willing to work if they just had the training, equipment, and space to do it. Now that we've got the power and industry back on track we're providing the training so they and the children of the station can learn." He smiled.
"So you’re not kidnapping people for organ harv
esting?" Knox asked.
Irons was startled. "Certainly not! There is no need for that, we can clone any organ needed. Whoever told you that needs their head examined!" He shook his head. "People are always ready to think the worst of a situation. The doctor has her hands full helping people. She has volunteers like Sara who have some training to help but we always have room for more." He shrugged and hid an internal wince. Matilda and Doc were going to howl over that comment when they heard.
Knox nodded. "All right, more in a minute folks but first a word from our sponsor..."
Irons sighed in relief as Knox nodded to the tech. "We're clear," she said after a moment. "Three minutes," she cautioned holding three fingers up.
"Not bad Irons, you may have won a few over with that," Knox replied.
"I have a proposal for you, well several. I'd like you to open a flat screen and maybe a tridee broadcast in time, but could you also teach a class or two on journalism?" Irons asked suddenly.
Knox looked amused. He picked up a water bottle and took a couple sips then wiped sweat from his brow. All the electronics in the compartment were putting out more heat than the life support was capable of handling it seemed. "We'll see." He looked over to the clock. "Ready for round two?" he asked with a smirk.
"No problem," Irons smiled.
"Admiral if I may ask, how are you doing it?" Knox held up his headset. Irons smiled.
"I have implants. When we're done I'll give your techs a hand with a few things if they would like." He held up his right arm and morphed it. Knox and the tech's eyes widened comically then his narrowed in furious thought.
“Well, that answers that question, you really are from the past." He shook his head. "Transmitting in four.. three... "
"Well, that was interesting." Irons breathed deep as he stretched. The rest of the interview had gone as expected. Knox had declined the invitation for him help with the electronics but the harried techs had looked so appealing to them both that he'd reluctantly relented and allowed Irons to do his best. His systems were far from perfect, but they were running much better then before Irons mussed. He'd have to remember to send them some equipment sometime soon. He looked around the corridor then went to the nearest lift.
Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) Page 22
