Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  Irons looked around. Sure enough there were a couple of witnesses, all dressed in western garb that was more commonly worn here in the Styx on the edge of town. He snorted, most were pretending not to look at what happened, just looking away and minding their own business. “Nice town,” Irons replied. He let out a long heartfelt sigh. “Real nice town.”

  “They aren't falling all over themselves to help or find out what happened are they?” Sprite asked, clearly not amused by that.

  “Police?” Irons asked. Sprite put an arrow on his HUD. He turned in the indicated direction. A deputy was coming out of a barber shop, rubbing his neck as if he'd just gotten a shave. Most likely he had. “I've contacted dispatch. He should be getting a call momentarily,” Sprite said. The young man put his bobby hat on.

  “I take it crime is a problem here?” he asked as Sprite summoned a nearby deputy. The deputy frowned, touching his brick sized radio on his hip. He looked around for a moment. Irons waved to him. The man grunted and then said something into his radio. The admiral's enhanced hearing picked out the words. “Responding to incident now.”

  “Ten four,” the dispatcher replied with a squelch of static.

  “You'd think that yes,” a nearby witness said shaking his head. Irons turned to the old duffer who had been watching nearby. He'd noticed the man coming closer but hadn't responded, he didn't read threat. He was glad at least someone was stepping up. “Why, are you looking to run for the sheriff’s post?” the guy asked, turning his head to spit on the ground next to a horse.

  “No, just curious,” Irons asked, foot on top of the mugger. If the man had sufficient metal on him some of the stun charge could be discharged in the ground. He could be playing possum, but the admiral's sensors picked up that he was unconscious and breathing normally.

  “What'd you do to him?” the witness asked, clearly curious. He spread his gnarled hands when Irons looked at him. “Just curious.” Irons sized him up. He was tall and lean, dressed in a western outfit like many of the other people in this area. Red plaid top and tan pants complete with western style boots. From the look of the engravings on his belt and boots along with the silver belt buckle he was someone of some substance. He had silver hair under the wide brimmed white hat he wore.

  “Stunner,” The admiral said, holding up his right hand. It morphed into his stunner and then back.

  The man's eyes widened and then he tipped his white western hat back and scratched his wrinkled brow. “Well, I'll be,” he said. He seemed to gulp as Irons put his hand down.

  “Drop it mister,” a voice growled. Irons turned to see an approaching figure. He snorted.

  “It's attached,” the admiral said, wiggling his fingers.

  “I don't give a shit... wait, huh? Where'd it go?” the deputy asked in confusion. Irons looked him over. He was wearing a constable outfit, but westernized. Irons didn't know what to think of it. He had a brown button down coat, English bobby bowler hat, with a silver badge on the front, shiny silver buttons on the coat, but what looked like western pants and boots. Most likely it was a compromise between riding wear and a flat foot's uniform.

  “Are you the deputy I called?”

  “Yeah,” the guy said, looking at the mugger on the ground. “This him?” he asked, nodding his chin to the man.

  “Yeah Roy, that's him,” the witness said. “Stupid prick. Must be new in town,” he said leaning over a rail used to tie horses to. He raised a weathered boot and put it on the lower rail.

  “Don't know, don't care,” the admiral said. “I'm just glad he's out of my hair. That is if you will take him off my hands officer...?”

  “Deputy,” the brown haired deputy said, face contorting in annoyance. He was a looker, holo novel handsome, he'd have the girls eating out of his hand if he wanted. From the smooth sound of his voice he probably sang too. “Deputy Rogers. Sheriff Coltrain is the sheriff of the city and surrounding county.”

  “Ah,” Irons said nodding. “Pleased to meet you deputy Rogers,” he said, stepping back. “My name is Fleet Admiral Irons. I'm a Federation military officer visiting your planet.”

  “I... see...” the deputy said, taking in Irons outfit once more. “You do have the look of an offworlder,” he said, coming closer to look at the mugger. “What'd you do, hit him?”

  “No, stunner,” the admiral said. He held up his hand and the deputy flinched, reaching for his holster. He froze, hand on it when Irons eyes stilled and bore into his. “No, not wise,” the admiral said. “The mugger,” he pointed to the man on the ground. “Didn't know I was a sleeper and that I was enhanced. I stunned him instead of... well, I thought you'd like to question him,” the admiral said, lowering his right hand slowly.

  The deputy seemed to tense again and then slowly he relaxed. “This true Judge Albert?” he said, turning his body to the witness but not taking his eyes off the admiral for a moment. Irons finally recognized him, the man in the robes from the earlier lynch mob. Great, he thought.

  Albert nodded, tipping his hat back once more and then spitting. “Sure as I'm standing here. Guy came out of that alley,” he turned and pointed a weathered hand to a tight two meter space between two of the nearby buildings. “and poked this here fella with his knife, or tried to. This fella pointed his right hand at him and the guy just dropped like a sack of potatoes.”

  “Clear cut case of self-defense,” the deputy said, nodding and straightening. He turned to others around them. A shop keeper nodded, still holding his broom.

  “Stupid prick. He obviously didn't think Fat Larry would notice him. Or thought he'd make a quick buck and then skedaddle before Larry got wise,” Albert said.

  “Fat Larry?” Irons asked.

  “Never you mind that,” the deputy said crossly, glaring at the judge in exasperation before ratcheting down the voltage when he realized his target. Albert turned his head and spat again and then worked his jaw. Rogers kicked the mugger onto his stomach and then knelt on top of him, using antiquated iron cuffs to lock his hands behind him.

  “He'll probably be out at least another ten or fifteen minutes. If you'd like to get additional witness statements I can watch him for you deputy,” Irons offered.

  “That won't be necessary,” the deputy said, getting up. He brushed off his knees. “Bert here is the local judge.”

  “Oh?” Irons asked, turning to the witness. The old man nodded smugly. “District judge?” he asked diplomatically.

  “Chief jurist of the county for my sins,” the old man said, reaching out a gnarled weathered hand. “Please to meet you admiral.”

  Irons shook hands with the old man and then nodded. “Likewise,” he said politely. “I have the entire incident on record if you want me to upload it,” he suggested.

  The deputy blinked. “You do?”

  “Yes but I can't find a place to send it too,” the admiral said and then shrugged. “I'm...”

  “Enhanced,” the judge said, nodding, eyes now hooded. “I take it with sensors too. We don't take kindly to invasions of privacy around these parts son,” he said in a warning tone.

  “Not my intention your honor. I am a Federation officer though, so I'm required by federal law. And an incident of this nature...” Irons shrugged.

  “Well, it does tend to make sure no one can dispute the facts,” Deputy Rogers replied, nodding.

  The admiral reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a flash chip. He felt Sprite copy the data and transfer it through his fingers to the chip. He handed it over to the deputy. “Here you go sir, a complete record of the incident up to a moment ago.” He'd learned a while back to keep a supply of memory sticks in his pockets of occasions like this. Normally he or Sprite dumped basic stuff like 'How To' directions or the Encyclopedia. But it served for this purpose as well.

  “Why thank you,” the deputy said, blinking and taking the chip. “I'll use this as your statement, not that it'll be required.”

  “If any more is needed you can contact the port. I
'm traveling on the Phoenix so they can contact me.”

  “That's right neighborly of you,” the judge said, nodding. He indicated that the admiral could go with a finger. Irons nodded.

  “If there is anything more?” he asked formally. The deputy shook his head. He turned, waving to the people around.

  “I'll need witness statements from those of you around...” Suddenly the street started to thin out as people who didn't want to be involved hastily retreated.

  “Well, that's one way to get rid of the lookie looes,” the judge said with a laugh. “I'll give you a hand getting this piece of garbage to jail Roy. That way you can get back to your beat,” he said, leaning over to grab a shoulder.

  The deputy grabbed the other shoulder and they pulled the guy up. “Sure thanks judge. I'm covering Walley since he's out sick. Though between you and me I think he's more interested in his nurse than in getting better... .if you know what I mean,” he said voice dropping into a mischievous grin.

  The judge chuckled and then snorted. Irons shook his head and walked off. He turned once to see the two men dragging the suspect down the road chatting. Irons shook his head again and then continued on his way.

  “Well!” Sprite said in disgust. “That's what they think of as the local law?”

  “It takes all kinds Sprite. Now, we were supposed to be heading to the port to get that order down....”

  “Yes and we're going to be running late if you don't hustle admiral.”

  “Understood,” he replied, lengthening his stride as he picked up the pace.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Helen Richards got word of the trade with the ships later in the day. She was disinterested at first, she knew most of it would just go to line the pockets of the rich corrupt commissioners. She was however surprised though that some of it was earmarked for medical.

  “What gives?” she asked staring at the entry. She'd requested materials, she always did. And she was of course always denied. Or at least denied what she really wanted. Her eyes goggled at the list. She'd already gotten a ton of data, someone had sent a packet of data to her servers. The IT department was currently screening it for the usual viruses and such. So far they'd reported it was all clean.

  “Someone sure likes us doc,” Nurse Marlone replied, shaking her head. She adjusted her hat when she felt it slip. She was old school, preferring her Victorian nursing outfit over the new fashion outfits the new crop of medics were wearing. She brushed a wrinkle out of her apron and stood there patiently.

  Helen Richards was a good doctor, a good administrator too. She'd do well to continue keeping her hand in medicine though, which she was doing Marlone thought with hidden approval. Richards was young for her rank, only forty four, but she was talented. She'd risen through the ranks and surpassed all in spectacular leaps as she doggedly dug up medical technology and practices from the past and then rammed them back into practice. Her recommendation by doctors Pratt and Whitney had gone a long way to getting her the job.

  Of course the last crisis had played a factor in that as well. Thousands had been sick from dysentery and other maladies when a hurricane had devastated the eastern coastline. Refugees had been gathered in miserable pockets on storm destroyed farms only to start getting sick from the poor conditions. Epidemics had ravaged a couple of the camps. Richards had taken a deep breath and waded into the fight to save as many as she could.

  She'd had some resistance at first but when one saw a patient suffering you didn't quibble over the source of material or knowledge that let you ease or end that pain. Richards was talented in that, she was diligent in applying local medicine as well as old skills and appliances. She'd overseen the overhaul of every hospital and clinic on the planet.

  She could be ruthless with supplies and didn't take well to those who got in her way. Her green eyes were lively to her patients but many knew the hidden steel in their depths.

  Of course when Helen had been nominated many of the old guard who had clung to the old ways had protested, resigned, or retired. Helen had at first tried to talk some of the more venerated doctors out of it, but had in the end sighed and let them choose their own path. Their going had made way for the new crop Richards had opened the door too. Thousands had answered the call to learn how to become a medic.

  She was a good teacher too, Marlone thought, smiling slightly as the doctor toyed with the clipboard. Tough but fair, stern to her students and fellow medical staff but an angel of mercy to those she helped. In other words, the ideal doctor.

  “Someone does,” the doctor finally answered, staring at the clipboard. Marlone flinched, grimacing over her woolgathering. It wasn't proper to do so in the presence of the boss after all.

  Helen didn't notice, she was too intent on the list. There were all sorts of things here, things she'd expected someone to snatch up and sell on the black market. She'd have to send someone to oversee the delivery or it would be diverted. “The Io 11? The Phoenix? I don't recall that ship name,” she said when she checked who was providing the material. She was surprised they could.

  “I think they're new,” Marlone replied with a shrug. “Will there be anything else doctor?” she asked pointedly. After all, she had other duties to perform before her shift ended.

  Helen waved her away without looking up. She heard the click of the lock as the door closed and sat back in her chair with a sigh. She set the clipboard down and stared off at the ceiling. “What's your game ...?” She asked. She looked back at the clipboard. “...Admiral Irons?” she turned, rocking her chair gently. “What are you up to and more importantly, why Irons.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  In orbit the admiral picked up the first consignment of trade goods with Io and talked with Io's AI. Io offered to trade raw and processed material for data and key access. Irons was amused. “What does the purser say?” he asked.

  Io's avatar smiled. “This is for engineering. I know you don't want to go rock hunting now admiral.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well...”

  “Let me guess, Sprite and Phoenix were telling tales out of school again,” he drawled. Io snorted over the radio link. She had matured a great deal since he'd last seen her, picked up some more human mannerisms. He nodded. “You and they are right.”

  “It's not that you don't want my company,” Phoenix said. The admiral turned to the AI camera.

  “Not at all Phoenix, it's just a lot of hard, dangerous work wrangling rocks. If they've got it already... what do you want for it? What sort of data?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Data and permissions. I want to make some fusion reactor and hyperdrive parts. Some for myself, some for trade, and some for the ship we're building,” Io replied.

  “Interesting,” the admiral mused. He rubbed his jaw for a moment and then held up a finger. “Strictly civilian grade. I take it you want some of the design data we picked up on Destiny and in Antigua?”

  “That would be great!” Io said. “I keep telling them making a smaller freighter is better.”

  “Okay,” he said nodding. “Starting small with a project like this is good. Did they get scaffolding up?”

  “No. Faith...” Io stopped. He smiled. Technically Io was a military AI, the first AI Sprite created. She was in many ways a true daughter of Athena, a daughter of pure intellect.

  “Loyalty to your chief engineer and crew is admirable. In this case misplaced. She should know better. Having scaffolding up protects the crew by providing a place to hang your lights and support for the various pieces you are trying to put together. It will also make the job go faster, and if they add netting it could stop a Dutchman incident,” he explained.

  “That's... that's been a concern. We're using bots and shuttles and the ship for lighting. The captain wants to keep the ship parts low key. Nothing to give it away when we aren't around.”

  “You don't want someone coming by and taking it. I fully understand. I take it you're stockpiling generic parts right now?” he
asked. Io's holo image nodded. “Right. Life support, EPS ducts, computer components, and on and on. Good for you,” he said in approval. The AI smiled. He went through his files and brought up several suggestions. Io nodded.

  “Of course I'll have to run this by the captain and senior staff,” Io said. Io's image sighed in exasperation before she reluctantly nodded.

  The admiral smiled slightly. “Of course. And if you want me to make the parts I need the raw materials here on my ship. At least the small parts. Anything larger than my little replicator and well...” He shrugged.

  “You could come here...” Io suggested.

  The admiral thought that over for a moment and then shrugged. “We'll see. Let's see what I can do with what we've got.”

  “I'm running this past the captain in a few minutes. I'll hopefully have an answer for you in an hour admiral.”

  “No problem,” the admiral replied. “It was nice talking with you Io,” he said smiling slightly.

  “And you Admiral, safe sailing,” she said and disconnected the line.

  “Think they'll go for it?” Sprite asked.

  “Maybe,” Irons replied.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  An hour later they got the go ahead from the captain. The admiral received his notice when Hibiki's shuttle showed up on the lidar diverting to them. Irons snorted at the lack of protocol but let the young man dock to the universal docking port on the dorsal side of the ship. He even gave the young man a quick tour as the robots and Tara unloaded. He sent back the first consignment with the young man.

  “Thanks admiral. We didn't know about the... well you know...” Hibiki said. He meant the stingy supply and the small amount the admiral had on hand in return.

  “I did warn the captain. Say, where's your partner?” Irons asked.

  Hibiki rolled his eyes. “Sleeping I hope. She's... a terror. Especially now that she wants to have a baby of her own.”

  “And you're just the guy she wants to be the father,” Irons said with a chuckle, patting the lad on the shoulder. “If you aren't ready just take your time. Talk with the doctor about contraceptives if you have to.”