Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer)

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Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) Page 71

by Hechtl, Chris


  “Any clue about what it was about? Who attended?” he asked.

  “Enrique and Judge Farley were excluded so our usual sources were absent,” Sprite reported. “Enrique sounds like he's still pouting.”

  “He's the system's lieutenant governor, he's entitled to pout if they excluded him from a political meeting. Convenient though. A little too convenient. I think it's time we had a chat with the newly elected governor.”

  “Ah, I have an unconfirmed report that he was involved,” Sprite said.

  “Oh just peachy,” Irons sighed rubbing his brow. “This gets better and better.”

  Firefly's avatar was in his wardroom when he came in after lunch. “Something I can help you with?” he asked, sitting down.

  “Admiral, I was... considering expanding my role.”

  “You'd like to do more you mean?”

  “Well, with a properly trained crew, I am starting to feel redundant.”

  “Okay,” Irons sat back.

  “During the last stages of the war I had officers that were frocked to their positions due to emergency battle conditions, or to fill a vacancy.”

  “And since most were never officially confirmed they didn't get their full OCS firmware update. Which is one of the reasons civilization fell like it did,” Sprite responded.

  “In a nut shell yes. And I had to compensate for their shortcomings on a regular basis. But the crew we have is good. Almost as good as when I first left dry-dock.”

  “So your finding yourself on the sidelines?” Irons asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a remedy you'd like to try?”

  “Well, I was actually coveting commander Logan's slot.”

  “The shipyard?” Sprite asked in surprise. “Or do you mean Shelby... oh the exec's slot. I get it.”

  “You want to bump Shelby up so you can take over?” Irons asked. “Push her out of the nest?”

  “I think she could handle one of the escorts Admiral. Or Prometheus. She has an engineering career track.”

  Irons rubbed his chin again. “It is an interesting idea. And she does need to broaden her horizons a little. You honestly think she's ready for the hot seat?”

  “I wouldn't suggest it if she weren't Admiral,” Firefly responded.

  “Of course you wouldn't. All right. We've got some time before any of the ships are ready. But for the record, I agree,” he nodded. “But we've got some road ahead of us so let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet.”

  “Aye aye Admiral. Looking to the future is all I ask,” Firefly replied.

  “That we can and will do,” Irons nodded.

  “Why did you leave your old gear and that replicator in the launch Admiral?” Firefly asked the next morning. He shrugged. He was on the bridge studying the potato shaped colony. They had just finished orbital station keeping and were waiting for word about the conference. Hopefully there weren't any more delays or cancellations. He'd already put up with that crap three times in the past two months.

  “I thought it would come in handy whereever I went.” He looked around. Vesta was an asteroid colony, burrowed into the soft asteroid. The rock had been fused into a warren of tunnels and equipment shafts. Since it was a soft colony it was subjected to constant out gassing and freezing when one side was exposed to the sun and the other was in shade. He could see a dim halo around the colony.

  “Well, you've got a few hours until the conference starts, are you going to study a brief?” Sprite asked. He shrugged. Sprite knew very well he had only so much tolerance for paperwork. That was why he had agreed to attend this conference in the first place.

  “You could check the corridors Admiral. They don't have a good map but it is a challenge for some. I think they called it spelunking,” Dan said coming over to him. Sprite's avatar gave him a dirty look.

  “Now that's an idea,” the Admiral smiled.

  “Great, going into a dark, dirty, mold infested rats nest just before an important meeting,” Sprite said sourly. “It'll be a pain to get you into a clean uniform in time you know.”

  “Just getting into the mental space Sprite. Think of it as research into the minds of politicians,” the Admiral chuckled getting up off the couch.

  “Right. Well, since I can't talk you out of it, I'll get a map,” Sprite sniffed.

  He navigated the corridors but stopped when he heard the sobbing. He was in the darkened half restored section of the underground colony. The walls were plastic covered stone covered in graffiti and mold and mildew. “What?” he asked

  “Sounds like a child Admiral,” Sprite said, bringing up his audio sensors and enhancing them. “Definitely a child. Timbre is makes it hard to make out gender or age though Admiral. It is not a recording.” He scowled. What the hell was a kid doing down here in the dark crying?

  “Right, can you call someone in security or social services?” he asked.

  “I can't get a signal Admiral.”

  “Great,” he tugged at his hem in irritation and walked around the corner. He studied the rubble and trash until his sensors found a child hiding in a crate. Sprite pulled up an IR image of what appeared to be a child in a fetal curl.

  “Hey, it's all right, are you lost?” he asked.

  The sobs stopped and it was quiet for a moment. “Go away,” the voice said.

  “Sure thing,” the Admiral turned.

  “You're really going?” the now confused voice asked gaining strength.

  “Sensors confirm the person is a male. Around eleven or twelve Terran standard Admiral. Definitely human or human stock,” Sprite reported.

  “Well you told me too remember?” Irons said looking over his shoulder. “Unless you want help?” he asked. “Are you lost? In trouble?”

  “Yeah,” the voice admitted.

  “Aren't you cold?” The Admiral asked. He could feel the chill on his face and his breath in front of him. His uniform and implants were keeping him warm, but the 35 degree temperature was probably not healthy for an adolescent without proper clothing.

  “Yeah.”

  “All right, let's go some place it's warm.” He turned as the boy started to scramble out o the box.

  “I'm not going to hurt you. I'm in the navy... It's my job to protect kids,” he smiled.

  “You are?” the boy shrank back into the box.

  “I'm the real deal. Federation navy officer. I'm a sleeper. You may have heard of me. My name is Irons. You can call me John,” he smiled again.

  “You're not going to hurt me?” the boy asked hugging his legs and looking forlorn.

  “Voice analysis indicates a child exposed to extensive trauma Admiral,” Sprite reported. The Admiral gritted his teeth.

  “No. I'm not going to hurt you.”

  “You're angry,” the kid said, suddenly sounding frightened. The Admiral sighed, trying to get a handle on his rage.

  “Not with you. I'm angry that someone would harm you,” he said trying to modulate his voice so he didn't frighten the kid back into his shell. “Look, let's get you out of the cold and dark. Maybe find some food and your family or someone safe.”

  The kid peeked out of the box at him. “Food?”

  Irons smiled. “Sure kid. Here,” he pulled out a ration bar and tossed it in front of the box. The kid reached out and grabbed it then he heard the rustle of the wrapper being pulled off. The kid bit into it.

  “Tastes weird,” he said with his mouth full. The Admiral chuckled.

  “It's a basic ration bar. I keep one or two in case I get hungry or forget to eat.”

  “You forget to eat?” the kid asked coming out of the box.

  “Sure, all the time. I have people that yell at me for not eating too. I'm probably in trouble now,” he said with a snort.

  “Are you going to be punished?”

  The Admiral started chuckling. The kid looked up at him confused then smiled. Timidly he reached up and grasped the Admiral's hand.

  “Admiral the boy has extensive bruis
ing on his face, torso, and genital regions.” Sprite pulled up a thermal scan and overlaid an ultrasound scan with it. He gritted his teeth again and looked away.

  “He looks familiar,” the Admiral murmured.

  “Did you say something?” the boy asked.

  “Nothing, let me check my map,” he looked up for a moment. Sprite plotted a course out of the warren.

  “Okay, let’s see, we've got a little ways to go,” he pointed with his free hand. “Down that way and we turn right.”

  When they entered the light of the main concourse he looked down to see the boy holding his hand up to shield his eyes. He was blinking tears. “My baby!” a woman screamed and came running. Men turned from all directions and came running.

  “What's going on here?” a man asked. The woman scooped up the boy, gave the Admiral a dark look then rushed off. Irons shrugged.

  “I was checking the newly restored areas and ran into the young man. He's been badly beaten and is traumatized. He needs food, water and medical treatment right away,” he looked over to a man wearing a security badge.

  “You say you found him?” the man asked skeptical.

  “I heard him actually. He was crying inside a crate about two hundred meters back that way,” Irons pointed with his thumb over his shoulder to the passage they had just navigated.

  “Bull! You hurt my son!” A man lunged at the Admiral but someone restrained him. He was hustled off.

  “We'll need you to come with us for a formal statement Admiral,” the security officer said coldly. He looked around to the growing crowd. The Admiral nodded.

  “I can upload the entire event for you to view,” Irons said waving his artificial hand. The man looked startled.

  Another whispered. “Is that even possible? Doesn't that mess the plan up?” Someone else elbowed him in the ribs.

  “What plan?” Irons asked turning to the men. They looked away. The security guards face tightened. “You'll have to come with us. This way,” he pointed his baton. Irons nodded. Over a dozen men formed up around him.

  “I swear that boy was familiar,” Irons said sitting against the wall an hour later. The boy's battered face came up on his HUD, a still of when he was being carried off by his mother looking over his shoulder.

  “Running facial recognition.” Points were plotted on the boy's eyes, nose, mouth, and ears then lines drawn. Faces began to scroll in a window beside the first. Sprite had eliminated everyone outside his estimated age group. Most of the kids looked like the kids he'd seen in the schools on Anvil. His brows knit. He opened his mouth to say something but Sprite flashed a match.

  “Admiral I have a hit and you’re not going to like it,” Sprite responded slowly. The kids face came up in the second window.

  “Where?” Irons asked. The tight shot of the boy scrolled out to a view of the Port Admiral's bordello Enrique had shown him months ago. He grimaced and then swore.

  “Damn,” he shook his head. “I think we've been set up.” He looked up to the camera in the corner. “I know it.”

  “Admiral I can't get a link out. Someone went to a lot of trouble to isolate you.” He scowled. “Of course it could be because they haven't repaired their Wi-Fi,” she said sarcastically.

  “No, this is too much of a coincidence,” he looked around. The interrogation room was bland, with a single door, one way mirror, table and two chairs. The security guard had escorted him inside and left him.

  “Door is most likely locked,” Sprite reported.

  “Stating the obvious again?” Irons smiled grimly. He held up his right hand. “I've got the key right here.” His voice tightened in suppressed anger.

  He had exited the interrogation room easily. They hadn't even posted a guard. He'd hesitated for a few minutes, trying to let Sprite come up with more intel before he committed himself. When he got close to the main lobby he slowed at the voices of an angered mob. “Well that's not good,” he shook his head.

  “Admiral they are after you. And not in a good way. This crowd is primed and out for blood,” Sprite said. He backed away then entered an empty closet.

  “Access point is right there Admiral by the door,” Proteus pointed out.

  “Finally,” he sighed jacking in.

  “Crap,” Sprite said. “Firewall.” She pinged the firewall then applied an implanted override. The firewall fell. “I'm in,” she looked around.

  “Admiral I'm checking security feeds. There are mobs all around the station and in many of the parks.” Irons scowled at the news. A window opened. He watched a Telerite delegation in full rampage. They were tearing a navy recruiting booth apart. Telerites. They were the most pacifistic race in Pyrax. The giant furry aliens were extremely protective of children however.

  “This was rather sudden wasn't it?” he asked.

  “Well this may have something to do with it.” A window opened. A local news broadcast of the mother and child in a hospital room. The battered boy was describing how the Admiral fed him drugs and candy and had abused him as the woman gently stroked his bruised brow and hair. The Admiral's jaw tightened.

  “Is this going out for system wide feed?” he asked.

  “Yes Admiral,” Sprite replied. “The damage is going to be extensive even when you put out your side of the story.”

  “It's not a story it’s the truth,” he said tightly, clenching his hands.

  “We know that. But you know how it is being spun,” Sprite replied softly.

  “Yeah.”

  “So now what?” she asked.

  “We find the ones responsible,” he growled. carets appeared around some of the members of the crowd. Most seemed to be instigators.

  “There are agitators in the crowd Admiral. Shall we pick one up and talk to them?” Defender asked.

  “No, that would expose us to the crowd and they could turn into a lynch mob,” Irons replied. “People, innocent pawns would get hurt. Trampled. No, I think I know who did this. Find the chairwoman and her cronies. Get me a link to Firefly. Prep the marines. Upload a full sitrep now.”

  “Done and done Admiral. Firefly has received my compressed report and is prepping marines,” Sprite responded after a moment. “The chairwoman...” she paused. “They are in the administration annex. There is an employee side entrance unguarded. I'm into their security system. I've redirected the cameras in the halls and set up the one by the door to show a loop.” He nodded.

  “Then let's get this over with,” he snarled.

  “I think it's time we had a talk,” Irons said coming into the room a few minutes later. The speaker turned and smiled at him. Her followers and representatives turned as well. They had a handful of weapons and electronic gear. There were twenty one people in the room. Most were prominent senators, representatives or their aides. A few of the aides looked more like body guards.

  “Admiral I can't get a signal through to their equipment. I've got a thin link to Firefly though.”

  The chairwoman smirked. “Talk Admiral. A picture paints a thousand words.” She pointed to the mobs on the screens around them then clicked a remote. The view changed.

  "Crap," Irons sighed softly looking at the display. The boy and his family were in an airlock.

  "As you can see we've taken the precaution of isolating your AI and the family. If you care to take this to its natural conclusion..." the chairwoman purred. The Admiral's eyes narrowed.

  "The Federation doesn't negotiate with terrorists."

  "Well, since we're the Federation, it’s a moot point. I prefer to think of it as leverage," she smiled.

  "Say the word Admiral, the marines are primed and ready," Sprite said. Irons grimaced.

  “You're not as good as you think. Firefly knows what's going on.”

  "If your thinking about sending in your marines forget it. We could have an unfortunate accident. You know how it is with these old colonies. Why, you don't know how they wired things," she shook her head. An image of explosive charges was shown. Irons snarled soft
ly. There were ten or twelve thousand people in this colony.

  "I don't like terrorists," his fingers curled. His shields were primed and ready.

  "It is all relative Admiral. I suggest you think about our proposal carefully."

  "You mean running me out of town?" he asked. She spread her hands apart.

  "Ah, I see you guessed it. Impressive. It's not all doom and gloom. Call it a fact finding mission. We're not demanding you resign. We could of course," she responded. “We'd reluctantly accept it,” she smirked. Irons grimaced.

  "Cute." He looked at her for a moment.

  "As it happens the other representatives are in agreement with me." His grimace deepened. "You have only yourself to blame Admiral."

  "That secret session," the Admiral said starting to realize it's implications. The chairwoman bowed.

  "As you said, you should stay out of politics," she smiled seeing the shot go home.

  "Exile or a Pyrrhic victory Admiral. The choice is yours," a senator said.

  "And the others agree with this? Agree with you using children as shields? An entire colony as a bargaining chip?" he asked softly.

  "They'll come around. They all agree that you've served your purpose," the chairwoman smiled.

  “Voice stress analysis confirms she's ready to go through with the threat if you don't back down Admiral,” Defender reported.

  "Classic catch twenty two Admiral. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. If you agree to it, you're weak and it destroys you. If you don't agree to it, you're cold to allow them to kill innocents to protect your own power base. That will also hurt you," Sprite said softly. "And if you go along with it and then turn on them, it can be spun as a power coup," she finished. Irons frowned.

  "Thinking of a way out? Don't. We've taken the precaution of covering all the angles," the Chairwoman gloated.

  "I wouldn't be so smug if I were you. You are in the room with me you know," Irons said dangerously. Her eyes widened fractionally.

  "You wouldn't kill in cold blood," another rep said smugly. He hefted a gun.

  "Well no, not normally, but this isn't normal now is it? Besides, that made it a moot point," the Admiral snarled.

 

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