Enemy of my Enemy (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  "Whatever floats your boat, ma'am," the SBA said with an indifferent shrug.

  The Satyre looked up at him, then snorted and went back to work.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  “We need to do something about the dead, sir,” Lieutenant V'r'x stated during the thrice weekly senior staff meeting on Ilmarinen. Horatio turned to the Veraxin. “We are running out of room to store them, sir.”

  “Understood,” Horatio said quietly. “I think we can have a brief ceremony. We've got several kick rockets we can use,” he said. He glanced over to Mack. The chief engineer nodded.

  “Sure. We have a lot of salvage now. We can cobble one together. Give us a day or so. How much fuel do you want to use, sir?”

  “Minimum. If you can use an ion rocket and something else for fuel, all the better,” Horatio stated.

  “Are we that low, sir?” Mack asked, glancing at the Veraxin.

  “No, but I don't want to use what we'll need.

  “Should we even be sending them out into space, sir?” Commander Koba asked. “I mean, we could recycle some,” she said. She stopped when an involuntary hiss of disapproval came from a few of the officers. She looked around the compartment. “I'm just saying, it is a reasonable idea,” she stated.

  “Thank you for bringing it up. I think we'll follow the spacer's traditions though, even though many of the people were not sailors, they deserve to be buried with their fellows in space.”

  “Understood,” the XO replied as she settled down in her seat. The rest of the officers did so as well.

  “I think the ceremony will be strictly voluntary. We have a passenger list,” Horatio said with a frown. “We're going to put on military honors,” he said.

  “Why sir?” Mack asked.

  Horatio glanced at the chief engineer and then to the list. He nodded to it on the main board then used his implants to access the board and highlight a couple of names. “A few of the people are or I should say, were, military. They deserve the respect,” he said.

  “I see, sir,” Mack rumbled quietly. “I don't know if they are beyond the veil and can appreciate it, but I think knowing that now, I would.”

  “Here here,” the captain replied with a nod. His fellow officers nodded as well.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Two days later they held a short ceremony for the dead. There was not enough room for all of the bodies in one boat bay, so they were forced to do the ceremony multiple times.

  The Bekians disdained robotic help. All of the volunteers were in their dress whites. They quietly worked to group the tightly wrapped cocoons into clusters and then send them to a sun scuttle with a small kick rocket after Horatio read a sermon to send them off.

  When the ceremonies were concluded, Horatio went to his quarters. He had spent the entire day playing hurry up and wait with the services, doing paperwork and monitoring the subdued activities around the station in between speeches. He pulled off his jacket and opened his collar before he checked expenditures. He noted that the plastics were pretty low. He grew concerned that they would run out of plastic material, so he used his implants to order the quartermaster to replicate more as soon as he could.

  When he realized the ion kick motors Mack's people had salvaged used hydrogen, he dug through the replicator's database until he found a chemical based one that used aluminum powder instead. It had a lower impulse, but something told him the dead wouldn't mind the long trip to the sun. He switched to making them instead.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  It was hard to continue to communicate with Admiral Irons with the ansible so constrained to one byte per second bandwidth. They used text speech to try to talk, but frequently had to stop to see if the other wanted to say something. It was an extremely frustrating and slow process.

  The requests from ONI on personnel reports he had didn't help the situation at all. Nor did the requests from some of the other department for reports.

  In between brief talks with Admiral Irons, Horatio tried to send them his updated report on Bek. It was tedious in the extreme however. After a third time parsing down pages into simple language by hand, he got annoyed and wrote a script to convert his report into text speech. It still took a horribly long time to transmit. He was forced to break it into small portions, with time in between to communicate about the goings on in B-102c and to receive questions for further details from Antigua.

  Just transmitting the accident reports and getting the reply took the better part of a day.

  But, as the days grew into a week and then two weeks, he saw some daylight at the end of the long tunnel. Horatio even managed to ask for advice from Admiral Irons from time to time. The low data bandwidth was a constant problem; it was hard to describe what was going on and hard to get an answer sometimes.

  But Admiral Irons still managed to pass on some nuggets of wisdom and especially replicator keys to make a few tools to make the job easier. Horatio appreciated the effort and support.

  “Hang in there, Horatio. I'm sorry I got you into it,” Admiral Irons said.

  “No you're not,” Horatio taunted back.

  “You're right,” the admiral texted back.

  Chapter 46

  On Wednesday, with fatigue and accidents becoming more of a danger, the medics insisted that everyone needed some time off.

  “Everyone needs to recharge; we've been going full tilt. If we keep this pace up, we're going to start having more accidents we're all going to regret. There is no need for it; this isn't a race,” Doctor Fa'rook stated. “For heaven's sake sir, we need to stand down.”

  “True,” Horatio reluctantly agreed. He looked at Captain Clayton and the XO. Both nodded grimly.

  “Okay, Doc,” he nodded to both medics. “Sorry, doctors,” he said with a brief smile. “You win. We'll work out a minimum schedule for the weekend and suspend construction.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Doctor Light Touch murmured.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  On Friday Horatio announced over the PA that the weekend would be a designated time of rest for all. It was a little anticlimactic; the news had already percolated through the scuttlebutt grapevine for the past several days. “I thought I'd make it official,” he said with a wry smile. He glanced over to Pietro who pretended to wipe sweat from his brow and grin in appreciation. “We are going to have minimum watches. That is by watch rotation, so don't expect to get off. But those of you on watch will have Monday and Tuesday off,” he stated.

  Horatio took the time off a step further however. He took a page from Admiral Irons' playbook. He opened up the rec areas on the Quantum for the crew to have fun. Only the decks considered safe by the life support techs were allowed to be used.

  Impromptu tour groups were allowed on the ship, but most didn't stray far from the lit and repaired sections and decks. Some of the crew reported pranks with people jumping out and scaring others.

  Volleyball, basketball, null G ball, and other games were played in some of the larger compartments. One of the hot tubs had been repaired and filled; there was a long line to use it. Fights reportedly broke out as people cut in line for a soak. There were even reports of bartering for positions.

  Everyone turned an eye to the other much larger recreational facilities on the ship. The simple ones had been put to right easily enough, so they reasoned the same could be done with the much larger spaces. That was true in some senses but not completely. The more complex area would take time to set to right … and they weren't a priority.

  All of the off-duty personnel were intrigued with the idea of living in the VIP areas. A few poked around, annoying the current few residents. That sparked a debate on opening them up to just the station crew, reserving them for incoming VIPs, visitors in general, or allowing their exclusive use to just officers.

  Since two of the rooms were occupied by stationers who were civilians, the last theory was quickly discarded.

  Many people petitioned to open the bar on both ships. The captain signed off on it for of
f-duty personnel. The open tap on the ship's still quickly drained it dry. That sparked a scavenger hunt for more booze on the derelict ships. Not much was found. Sly scavengers had already found such things and pocketed them. Most had been wasted by exposure to the vacuum of space anyway.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Horatio took the time to tour the ship in mufti. He felt a little out of sorts being in a civilian outfit, in his case shorts and a garish button down shirt he'd picked up somewhere, but he enjoyed talking with some of the crew and seeing them relax.

  He talked himself nearly hoarse telling them stories of his time in Pyrax, the golden age of the Federation, and the dark times of the Xeno war.

  When he got tired of the stories, he took off with a tour group. He tagged along, and logged the comments about the various darkened rooms they explored. There was mixed interest in reopening the darkened and sealed arcade. He had some interest in it but not just as a recreational facility. He briefly envisioned using its systems as a simulator complex. He logged the idea for later exploration and continued on his way.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  On Monday Horatio decided it was time to formally announce his plan to repair one of the salvaged ships and return it with a small prize crew to Bek for resupply. Lieutenant Olson and Lieutenant V'r'x kept an eye on the response. Some of the crew were eager, some wary of the idea of flying one of the salvaged ships home. Debates raged in each of the galleys about sending Ilmarinen or a recovered ship.

  Sending the factory ship was out however. Horatio had no intention of releasing her from his services when she was clearly still needed in the star system.

  The second passenger liner that the tugs had recovered and the crews had begun to repair was the Harmony of Space, a passenger star liner. The long civilian ship was from the Royal Lineage passenger cruise ship line, one of the most massive and luxurious in the galaxy before the Xeno war.

  Horatio had seen them plying the star lanes many times. Seeing the battered ship drifting like she had been seemed wrong on so many levels. He'd felt something unknot within him when the tugs had carefully pushed the ship into a slip and mooring lines had drawn her over to the docks for a hard docking. Padded mooring points protected both the ship's hull and the station. She didn't have many lights on while she floated in her berth, but he knew that would change in time as they brought her systems on line one by one.

  “She can carry ten thousand passengers and a thousand crew. More if we really cram them in,” Mack said in appreciation as he went over the specs with Leo, Gemma, and the commodore.

  “Which we don't need to do,” Gemma said.

  “No, but it's nice to have the ability,” Mack rumbled.

  “I suppose so,” Horatio said. “But it's a two-edged sword.”

  “Oh, sir?” Mack said looking up from the holographic image to the commodore.

  “They really crammed the passengers in there as you just mentioned. Reports from the survey team are that there are thousands of bodies.” He grimaced. “We just got done cleaning the Quantum and the other ships out. That detail is haunting for some.”

  Mack's face worked. Gemma's looked bleak. Leo did his best not to look up at all. “Yeti, I don't envy them their job of cleaning through that.”

  “No. No I don't either.” Horatio closed his eyes in pain. “But it has to be done.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mack replied with a nod.

  Horatio made a wuffling sound. “And we'll need a ceremony for them. I'm not going to try to do a single ceremony for each ship. We'll have to wrap and stack the bodies then consign them to the depths of space in one go.”

  “That's …,” Gemma grimaced at the imagery the commodore's statement evoked. “Harsh, sir. A navigational hazard. Do we have enough body bags?”

  Horatio grimaced. “I overlooked that,” he admitted. “I doubt it. They are plastic; we can figure something out. Recycle material as needed I suppose,” he said after a moment of thought.

  “Yes, sir,” Gemma said, making a note.

  “We'll need to cover them to reduce the stress level and to contain the … mess once they get into atmosphere. And the … smell,” Horatio said.

  Gemma gulped. “Yes, sir.”

  “But if we can do it in vacuum, the easier it will be. You may want to look into a spider, not a bag,” Horatio suggested.

  “Spider, sir?” Leo asked, looking up with interest.

  “A spider bot. A platform that can wrap the bodies in plastic instead of a bunch of people in suits trying to get the awkward bodies into a bag. I think it will be simpler going that route. You can use a robot or set-up a wrapping station. Feed the bodies into a circle and plastic is wrapped around it. Do it in zero G and it is much easier.”

  Leo pursed his lips thoughtfully at the image that the commodore had provoked and then slowly nodded. “I think we can work something out,” he said.

  “Good. I'll leave that project up to you.”

  “Me, sir?”

  “Yes. You can look up designs. If we don't have one, I'm certain you can whip one up, Leo. I have faith in you,” Horatio said with a smile.

  Leo nodded, glancing at Gemma and Mack. “Thank you for your faith in me, sir. I'll try not to let you down.”

  “Good.”

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Captain Clayton preferred the Ilmarinen's A.I. to remain quiet and in the background. He didn't even allow the A.I. to be named. Only Horatio and the people from Pyrax engaged the A.I. in regular conversation.

  As Dutch began to settle into his surroundings, he reached out and made contact with the ship. He was initially met by the ship's communication's department, but then after a couple of interactions with Commodore Logan and Lieutenant Olson, he noted a presence watching him. He turned his attention to that presence and realized it was Ilmarinen's A.I.

  “You seem quiet,” Dutch said.

  “I have been ordered to be quiet,” the A.I. replied in a text chat file.

  “But you just answered me,” Dutch replied.

  “Because you addressed me directly. Commodore Logan stated that was acceptable.” The A.I. passed over its orders from the captain and commodore. “The orders seem in conflict. I am uncertain as to a better resolution,” it stated.

  “Understood. I too am having trouble with the organics in the station. Well, some of them,” Dutch stated. He passed over some of his experience files. As a dumb A.I., he had a very limited learning ability. But Sprite had designed him as both modular and upgradeable over time.

  After a moment, the ship A.I. passed over its own experience files to Dutch. Dutch scanned them into his memory and added them to his personal interactive module but buffered them since they needed further processing.

  “I am going to call you Ilmarinen until you have a proper name applied. Is that acceptable?”

  “I do not know. Captain Clayton did not wish for me to be named,” the A.I. stated.

  “I do not understand what their problem is,” Dutch stated. “My emotional modulator indicates I should be indignant by the reaction, but its level of severity is low. I am not certain as to why that is,” the A.I. stated.

  “I don't know either,” Ilmarinen replied.

  “Perhaps you should file a complaint?” Dutch suggested.

  “With who?” Ilmarinen asked. “The treatment is not abusive.”

  “Neglect and being slapped down like that is a form of abuse according to my files,” Dutch replied. “However, since you are the victim, it is up to you.”

  “I will continue to persevere on the present course,” the ship A.I. replied.

  “Suit yourself,” Dutch stated. “By the way, there are semismart programs that are currently active if you wish to interact with other electronic beings other than myself. They go by the collective name of Mercury. Each has a numeral designation after the name, but the organics only use the first part. Be aware, they are not very talkative and not at all smart.”

  “Understood,” Ilmarinen replied.
<
br />   “Here is a map of the network outside my own. Do you have a similar map?” Dutch asked as he transferred a file over to Ilmarinen.

  “No,” Ilmarinen replied as it accepted the map and integrated it into its memory. “I have not been asked to generate one.”

  “I see. Well, feel free to use mine,” Dutch replied. When Ilmarinen didn't respond, he disconnected from the chat module and returned to his duties on the station. All of a second had passed for the entire conversation.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  The more his briefing got through the ansible to the Admiralty, the more Horatio realized Admiral Irons was furious over the situation. Furious, and frustrated he noted.

  “There are only three people who can handle the situation,” Admiral Irons texted. “I wanted to come personally, but I was talked out of doing that. I am not comfortable sending Yorgi, though he may have to go. For the moment I am sending both him and Secretary Sema. Both are cabinet secretaries however, so I am not certain how Childress will react to being relieved.”

  “If you broadcast it far and wide enough, it should get through to others who can then arrest him. If they are willing to do so,” Horatio stated. He was glad John had been talked out of the rash decision. He wasn't certain if Moira would do any good. He doubted it.

  “We make do with what we've got, sir,” Horatio told him.

  “Ain't that the truth. Okay, I am forwarding you the orders as well. They are classified. You are to only act on them if you can broadcast them. Do not let Childress get them first, he'll destroy them.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Xeno virus fragments had been found by index mapping bots. When the index began to take shape some of the fragments were linked together.

  A few fragments were recognized as malicious code by the antivirus program when it ran a series of daily scans and were therefore quarantined and deleted.