“Well, the case and electronics are mostly okay. The database is fried. In trying to bypass it manually, you triggered that part of the self destruct.” He shook his head. “Hackers better than you have tried for centuries to get past the safeguards. In fact in my time there was even a reward for anyone who could do it.”
“There was?” Miss Willis asked, fascinated. She blinked at him. It took him a moment to realize she was fluttering her eyes. Was she really flirting with him?
He cleared his throat, feeling a little heat. Damn it had been a long time since anyone had done that with him. Not since... not in a long time. Unfortunately this wasn't the time or place. “Yes. By the Federation government. We wanted to know if anyone could do it and how so we could plug the hole. It was also a way to identify people who were trying, and it shut down quite a few systems. After a year the offer was rescinded.”
“Oh,” Miss Willis smiled. “Too many takers?”
“You could say that. It severely disrupted manufacturing. The makers of the replicators did make record profits though,” Irons replied dryly.
“Of course,” Miss Willis smiled. “So what would happen if you died? Will you pass on your knowledge?”
“I can't,” Irons said not looking at her. “I'm not just duty bound, I'm psychically unable to do so. The coding module would self destruct under certain situations, like my death. Sprite and Defender would also wipe their code sets as well.”
“What will happen to them if you ever die?” a young girl asked. Irons wasn't sure of her name. It floated over her head thanks to Sprite. Regina.
Irons grimaced. “I don't like to think about it, but if possible they could upload themselves into an available AI core. I'm not sure about Defender, he is programmed to ah, go down with the ship I guess you could say,” he said and then grimaced once more, this time in distaste.
“Proteus would also go with the Admiral,” Sprite said quietly from the overhead. “I'm not sure I would like to remain without the Admiral's presence. For an organic he makes this universe enjoyable.”
“Thanks,” Irons said huskily as the class looked away at the show of emotion.
“Now, as the Admiral pointed out, trying to do anything this stupid is going to back fire. Hopefully you learned a lesson from this?” Sprite asked. “No weapons, no proscribed tech, nothing of that nature is allowed. It's all in the manual which those of you who have used the replicators should have read by now. If you haven't, do so. In fact Mr. Smith you'll be getting a copy with flagged material to read. I will make sure you do read it this time.”
“Yes ma'am,” Everette said nodding. “I will. I'm sorry about the mess,” he grimaced, indicating the replicator.
“At least no one was killed. The early day replicators would blow up. Count your blessings,” Irons said. “I've got to replicate a new set of nanites and a new data core, then reinitialize the entire system. Which wont be happening today.” He nodded to the Purser as he unjacked. “I plan on eating dinner.” He smiled to Bailey. “Then tossing an overgrown baboon around the salle mat.”
“Oh you think so huh?” Bailey said with a simian laugh. “Just try it bub.” He shook his head, teeth bared in a mock threatening grin. “Two falls out of three? Loser rebuilds that hinky gearbox for the recycler.”
“You're on,” Irons chuckled. “You really don't like getting all greasy do you?” he asked as they followed the class out. He slapped the chimp on the shoulder.
“You have any idea how much of a pain it is to get that crap out of my fur?”
“What's left of it you mean,” Irons chuckled.
“Funny. Real funny.”
“You know, come to think of it, I've got cronies for jobs like this don't I?” Bailey said, eying the dirty recycler with misgivings. He wasn't sure why he and the Admiral got this duty. He sometimes chose duties like this to prove to himself and his crew that he could buckle down and do the dirty deed, show them that he could lead by example. He just questioned his own timing. Which made him smile a little. Second guessing himself when it came time to get his fur dirty. That was normal!
“Yeah, but the mark of a good leader is the willingness to roll up one's sleeves and do the dirty jobs right along with anyone else. And do it better too,” Irons retorted, setting the crate of parts down nearby.
Irons would point that out, Bailey thought with a pang. “Sure, you just keep telling yourself that Admiral,” Bailey snorted, tugging the cuffs of his sleeves down and then tightening the velcro. “I for one don't want to get that crap on my fur. Be a bitch to get it off. Probably be a tangled matted mess by the time I'm done here. Why'd I volunteer for this chicken shit again?” he muttered.
“Could always shave it off I suppose,” Irons deadpanned, grinning at the chimp's sour look and mock shudder. “The sooner we get this done, the better.” Irons knew that the people who would normally be doing this were all ground side. Which was another reason why the chief was handling this job. He was a good leader, giving his people the time to unwind. He just wished they had the compunction to check over their equipment a little more thoroughly before writing it off as good and then rushing dirt side.
Bailey grunted as he set his tool case down. As he pulled out a driver to remove the casing screws Irons passed him and went to work. By the time he had the proper bit the casing was loose.
“Well, that was fast,” Bailey snorted looking up. He changed the bit on his tool. “Think the problem is in the pump assembly or a clog?” he asked professionally.
“I'm not sure,” Irons said. He studied the machine and then brought his implants up to full to do a thorough scan. He traced the feeds coming into the machine and followed them. So far he didn't see anything wrong. A little congested but nothing really wrong or broken. At least nothing that immediately jumped out at him.
Bailey toyed with his tool revving the motor for a moment and then coming over. “Now I know why I did this, I get to play with power tools.”
“See? There is a good side to this after all,” Irons said distracted as he frowned. He got midway through the scan and then spotted something, a blockage that shouldn't be there. It didn't look right. It didn't look natural, it looked.... artificial. “Odd...”
“What?” Bailey asked, hand reaching for the cover plate.
“Something, I'm not sure. Maybe something broke off and it got spun around inside. It's not matching my specs at all and...” His threat detectors went off as he narrowed the scan to do a detailed analysis of the unknown blockage. He felt a gravitational disturbance as his shields came online and began to spin up.
“Don't!” he said lunging for Bailey's arm just as he pulled the cover plate open.
Bailey had one moment, one brief microsecond to see and recognize the bomb within before the trap he'd sprung closed a circuit and set it off.
Defender had been ready, his shields were already up as he grabbed the simian and swung him around so the Admiral was in between the bomb and the chimp. That was all he had time for because the bomb went off, a focused blast in their direction.
His shields however took the brunt off the blast, knocking them both down the passage to slam into the corridor wall beyond. Bailey gasped in pain and shock as fire alarms whooped and the ventilation system kicked into overdrive.
Irons helped him to his feet and then supported him as the chimp shook like a leaf in the wind. “What the hell?” he said loudly.
“Bomb.”
“What?”
“BOMB!” Irons yelled.
“I know that!”
“Yeah well, ask a stupid question, get a literal reply,” Irons said, shaking his head.
Bailey looked at the wreckage behind them and the running people coming from different directions. “About time!” He kicked a piece of smoldering debris angrily.
“Thirty seconds, not bad. We may have to contain this section and evacuate the air to get the fire under control though,” Irons said with a grimace. Everyone around them was wearing a f
ace mask. Good. He needed to get the chief into one. He was coughing off and on.
“Damn it!”
“What?” Irons asked as the chimp snarled and kicked at a bit of debris.
“That was my favorite tool box! It had stickers on it and everything! Someone's going to pay big for this!”
Irons bit back a laugh as he watched the simian chew the air blue. So much for a peaceful day.
A few hours later he sat on a stool in engineering. Ed was standing there stiff as a board, clearly both pissed and embarrassed. He had taken his eyes off the situation, focused too much on the ground and here was the result. The captain frowned, arms crossed as he heard them repeat the story.
“So, no warning until it went off?”
“No, I had about a two or three second lead time but when I put two and two together it was too late,” Irons said shrugging helplessly.
“Who ever did this was good.”
“And you didn't get anything? Nothing at all?” the captain asked, turning his attention on the security chief.
Ed grimaced, scowl deepening even further. “No sir. Not a blessed thing. The camera in that section was out. I'm guessing it was tampered with, but we'll know more when we get it apart.” He was damn sure someone somewhere was going to pay dearly for this. Hopefully whoever had done this had been just sloppy enough to leave a piece of themselves behind.
“It was taken out in the blast, I'll bet it's in pieces scattered all over the area. Or being swept up now,” Bailey said. He waved a dismissive hand, personally already sure of what they were going to find. “Good luck though, who ever did this was good.”
“Did they do it now or earlier?” the captain mused, rubbing his chin. They looked at him expectantly. After a moment he looked up. “I was just thinking, if this was done some time ago, say during the virus attack or even before that...”
“We'd have no way of knowing. For that matter the bomb could have been there the entire time and someone just triggered the recycler to go down and arm the damn thing at the right time.”
“But how would they know you two would be the one's to fix it?”
“Captain, I'm well, I'm not one to leave the hard jobs to my people. I do like to get my hands dirty,” Bailey said, brown eyes turning on the Admiral to get him to keep his mouth shut. “The Admiral is of the same mind. We lead from the front so to speak.”
“True.” The captain nodded. It was something he clearly liked in both men.
“And so you think someone arranged this so you'd just jump in and do it? Hell of a risk, what if one or both of you had been busy and someone else caught the detail?”
“I think who ever did this is keeping tabs on us. Someone who knew we were free....”
“And knew enough about us or me for that matter in that I'd be willing to jump in,” Irons said. He looked bleak. “You're not the target chief, I'm pretty sure you've just been caught in the cross hairs these times.”
“Mighty damn wide cross hairs,” Ed growled. “First the virus, then the poison, now this? What's next?”
“I don't know, but I bet I see three men determined to keep this from repeating itself ever again,” Ferguson said. The others nodded grimly back. “That is right after you get me a new recycler.”
Both engineers looked a little put out over that little chore.
“We're going to need it if we're to continue this journey. Which I for one am more determined than ever to accomplish, if only to spit in the eye of who ever has been trying to bring us down when we get back to Pyrax.
Irons mouth quirked in a crocked grin. Bailey and Ed glanced his way and then shrugged, determined as their captain.
“Dismissed gentlemen, get to work.”
“How much longer until you are out of here?” Everette asked, catching up to him in the corridor outside his quarters. He'd ducked in to suit up before heading to the boat bay.
“Eager to see me leave Everette?” Irons teased. The young man sputtered.
“Sorry, no I, well it's just well, I ah, wanted to come with you and they wont let me. Harry and the chief I mean.”
“Oh, well, maybe next time son, I've got to make at least a trip a day if we're going to get enough material in to make a difference.” He sighed internally. And to make up for that damn recycler. Replacing that had thrown him a bit off schedule. He'd missed the first window and was determined not to miss the second.
“Wha..?” the young man ground to a halt and stared as Irons kept going.
Noticing it the Admiral turned and smiled but kept walking. “See you real soon!” he waved as he turned the corner.
“Don't worry about us going anywhere Admiral,” Bailey whispered to him near the lock. He paused and turned to give the chimp a curious look.
The simian tugged on his ear, making him look a little ludicrous. “See we developed a problem with the drive, the darn thing wont work without you here. So don't worry about losing your ride or nuthin.”
“Thanks chief,” Irons said, cracking a smile. That had been a slight concern actually. Not that he didn't have a place to go. He could just barely make it to the planet if he dropped the load at the right time. It would be tight but do able. Barely.
Not that it would be needed. Apparently even the captain wanted him to wrangle that rock. Charlie the purser was already washing his hands in glee over what they could make from it's materials. He just had one thought for the purser, don't count all your metals before you get them. Especially since the neither the purser nor any of the ship's crew were helping out. This was all down to him. So he had his own plans for a lot of the rock.
“Nothin' to it John, just get what you've got to do done and get your lazy ass back up here so I can kick it back into shape.”
“Sure chief,” Irons said shaking his head and laughing. “Whatever you say.” He patted the simian on the shoulder and then made his way forward.
“So we're just going to pick up that rock?” Sprite demanded as he ran through the pre-flight check up. He was being both thorough and careful. He'd even taken the time to scan the boat bay and his launch down to a cubic centimeter. Nothing out of the ordinary.
“Why do you ask?” he asked amused. “Hold that thought for a moment,” he said, grasping the control yoke and wiggling it slightly. “Destiny this is Fleet Five-niner, ready for launch.”
“Destiny control to Five-niner, that's a go.”
“Roger that.” he tapped the controls with his implants and then rested his right hand on the throttle. A slight touch was all that was needed to get the ship off the deck and into the vacuum of the bay. He maneuvered out of the lock and headed for space.
“Five-niner clear.”
“Roger that Five-niner, good hunting.”
“Roger. Back in a bit.”
He checked the course once more and then turned the auto pilot on. There was something to be said about keeping his hands on a stick to keep in practice, and in close quarters he'd prefer his own hands and mind over an uncaring computer, but when it came to a long run, best to let the computer deal with it. For now.
“You were saying?” he asked.
“I was asking if we're just going to be playing tug. But judging from the inventory...”
“The answer is no. Correct. I didn't have enough for all three like I wanted, but I did get two done. General purpose, but that should be fine for a test run.”
“True. Did you tell anyone you were doing this?”
“A few techs may have twigged on to it.”
“But not the crew in general.”
“Must have slipped my mind to make a broadcast of my every move,” he said, checking the first satellite. He checked the chrono. He had about an hour before the first launch window.
The satellites were general purpose affairs, semi-complex devices with the most amount of sensors crammed into the smallest package. They had solar panels that would fold out like wings when in space. With those and super conductor batteries they should last for decade
s. Possibly centuries if they were lucky.
On one side there was a series of sensor arrays. Masts were folded or stowed along the top and other sides. A simple OMS pack was on the back. It had an ion engine and would use a small fuel tank to maintain position once it was placed.
The satellites would serve a multitude of uses. For one they could relay communications between ground stations. Or from one ground station to orbit. Or between objects in orbit for that matter.
They also had limited sensors to detect objects in space, and a limited ability to study the terrain and atmosphere below. That would allow the colonists the ability to not only study their world, predicting weather patterns, but also look for geological deposits... and keep a wary eye out for uninvited guests.
But unfortunately, like all general purpose units it had it's drawbacks. The biggest was one that all general purpose units had, the fact that it was a generalist. Machinery that was designed to do multiple tasks did each to a varying degree, and none perfectly. None nearly as good as a specialist could do. But he had to start somewhere with his limited resources.
“I honestly didn't think you'd get them done in time,” Sprite said, amused. He looked up.
“You don't know me by now?” he asked, amused himself. He shook his head as he got out of the pilot chair and started to check the satellite over one last time.
“Not what I meant. Well, maybe a little. I honestly didn't expect the help you got.”
“Never underestimate the generosity of the human spirit. Or what ever being you wish to insert for human,” he smiled.
"Destiny to Fleet Five-niner," came the voice over the communications channel, "I don't want you to be alarmed, but something just came off your shuttle.”
Irons smiled. Good eye, they were watching him. “Took them long enough to notice,” Sprite said with a sniff of disdain.
“Now, now, be nice.” He nodded as he opened the channel. “Fleet Five-niner to Destiny, that is a roger. I've been launching satellites.” That had been his next to last one actually.
Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer) Page 18
