Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer) (18 page)

There
were two chimp females, bridge officers there too. He wondered about that.
Galiet and someone else he didn't easily identify. Apparently friends of the
chief. Of course it being a small ship and the three of them being the only
simians on board, it was natural for them to get together on occasion.

They'd
even visited the chimp in the small infirmary. That was good. Maybe the chief
was dating one of them? Stranger things could happen. Bailey might be a little
rough around the edges and he was definitely a character but any woman who saw
past all that would find a man worth having. Worth keeping, he thought with a
small smile.

“Shhh!”
the old woman said, waving a dishtowel at him. “Hush,” she whispered, eyes on
the LCD in the corner near the door. Irons came in and looked up, craning his
neck to see a soap opera on.

“Okay,”
he muttered shaking his head with a soft chuckle. The woman settled back down
onto her stool and kept folding. The woman shook a towel out and then folded it
with expert flips and folds.

She
wasn't that old, at least to him. She was aged, and her hands were gnarled with
arthritis. Since her face was turned to the vid screen he couldn't get a look
at it but from the back she was well proportioned, short for her age, about one
hundred and forty four centimeters tall. Her hair was blue but highlighted with
a lot of gray.

According
to his scans she was in her mid seventies, for most Terrans before the fall it
wasn't even middle age. You didn't get to middle age until after your second
century in his time. Here and now it was considered old. He felt a pang over
all that had been lost while he slept.

“Doesn't
she know that's a rerun? It was on a week before we left,” Sprite said nastily
for his ears only. Irons snorted softly but kept loading his washer. It was a
simple machine, aluminum with a round door and a dial control.

Washers
and dryers could be separate machines or all built into one. He, like a lot of
engineers, was on the fence about that. Take for instance this machine. It was
a multipurpose model, designed to not only wash the clothing but bombard it
with ultrasonics to break up any stubborn stains or clumps. It also had a fast
drying feature. Hopefully it was tuned, the last time he'd used one that wasn't
had been disastrous for his load of uniforms.

“Apparently
not,” he sub vocalized. He sat down to wait as the washer kicked on.

“Not
going anywhere?” Sprite asked.

“Would
you want to with someone messing with my stuff? This was completely random. I'd
like to keep it that way,” Irons replied quietly.

A
commercial came on and the woman turned. “Oh. It's you.” She shook her head.
“Sorry Admiral.” She wasn't that wrinkled, just some crows feet and some smile
lines. She was obviously spry enough to continue working. He nodded politely to
her.

Most
people didn't realize that taking work from an older person was a mixed
blessing. Sure it lightened their load, gave them a break. But it also made
them feel redundant and helpless. Like they were a constant burden on their
families and on society. It also made them bored and without the regular
exercise of work they tended to lose muscle tone quickly and gain weight.

He'd
found that the spacers in this time period took a dim view of those who
couldn't work. It wasn't anything personal, it was a matter of survival. If a
person couldn't contribute to their own survival and the survival of the
community then they were shunned or rejected. He'd heard a few stories of some
communities going so far as to euthanize a person if they became critically
injured or disabled. That was sickening.

At
least here this woman was not only contributing, but with his help they'd
change that draconian policy. Access to modern medicine would go a long way to
help there. She wasn't eligible for some geriatric treatments but some of the
others would add decades if not an extra century to her life.

Which
was good. She like many of the older folks had a storehouse of wisdom and
knowledge that they could pass on to others in so many different ways.

Irons
shrugged. “No problem. I didn't want to disturb you, but I had a free moment
and wanted to get this chore done before I forgot,” he grimaced theatrically.
“Again.” He waved his hands airily.

“Oh,”
the woman blinked then smiled. “It's an honor to meet you sir,” she said and
then she blushed.

Irons
nodded, smiling. “I'm surprised you're not running for the door.”

“Oh
I caught the entire thing on Mr. Knox's show.”

“You
did?” Irons asked surprised. “How?”

“He
uploaded it to the ship as we left. I guess the bridge kept it under lock and
key till we were out of  the system cause they needed the system to concentrate
on the jump and all. Well, that and you locked the system up with your own
recordings,”  she said with a smile and then shrugged. “Least that's what Maddy
said.”

“Oh,”
Irons nodded. “Okay,” he shrugged the amusement off. He had no idea who Maddy
was. Most likely  crony of the laundry woman. Perhaps a coworker? He shrugged
the questioning thought off. It didn't matter.

“I
can't believe you let them run you out though,” she huffed.

“It
was that or let twenty thousand innocent men, women, and children die. I
couldn't do that. There has been enough death.”

“Oh,”
she blinked and then frowned. “Yes, that was mentioned. But wouldn't the colony
have handled the sudden depressurization?”

“I
wasn't about to take that chance,” Irons grimaced. “It's old. Materials break
down with age. Wear and tear, sun and heat exposure.” He shook his head.
“Besides, by the time something did kick in, if it did, a lot of people would
have died or been injured.”

“Oh.
Well, that's true.” She nodded. “Age, tell me about it,” she said, rubbing her
hands. “These old hands aren't what they used to be. I used to type. Then I
just couldn't. My fingers just became so hard to move and painful.” She shook
her head. “Just awful.”

“That's
terrible. Is there anything the doctors can do?” he asked conversationally.

“Well,
they don't have all that miracle stuff you did, but the docs on Pyrax set me up
with some fish oil stuff and some exercises and treatments to help out. It's
working cause here I am,” she smiled holding her hands up. “They don't have
much call for a secretary, so I signed on where I could. I've always wanted a
cruise. See a little more of the galaxy than four walls and a spread sheet.”

“I
can't blame you ma'am, everyone deserves a vacation. And a chance to see the
galaxy is a hard thing to pass up,” Irons smiled as he pulled his load and
started to fold it.

“Give
it time Admiral. Most people will see the truth eventually. Those that act like
horses asses will regret it. Most of them. Them that are that way naturally are
another story.”

He
had to snort and smile at that.

She
nodded, folding another load. In the back corner a chute opened and a bag fell
into a bin. She grimaced. “My, my.” She shook her head tisk tisking. “One
little stain and they got to go have me wash it. I just washed this yesterday!”
she said, pulling a top out.

“Well,
good night ma'am,” Irons said, tucking his duffel under one arm.

“Oh,
leaving? Good night,” she waved and went back to the load.

“And
we have break out!” Clarke said triumphantly. People around the rec deck were
slapping each other on the shoulders and cheering. Irons snorted softly,
watching them celebrate something that was perfectly normal.

He
had chosen to be on the rec deck since it was a populated area. It was also one
of the few places that had fully functional holographic projectors and a trio
of LCD screens behind the bar.

Not
that he really needed them of course. If he really wanted to he could see the
entire show on his HUD or jack into the ship's net and experience the thrill of
break out through his implants.

It
was a rush he had to admit, he'd bet Clarke was having all he could do to control
himself. Break out was a major thing for those jacked into the ship's sensors,
an incredible experience as all your senses were bombarded all at once. He had
enjoyed it a few times in his youth before other interests had redirected his
attentions elsewhere.

He
swirled his drink and leaned back, relaxing. Bailey had given him a bit of a
work out in the improvised dojo, but he'd given as good as he'd received.
Bailey had tried to hide the limp when they had left. He'd made his goodbyes
quickly and was most likely in his office wishing he had stopped by the
infirmary. Pride goeth before and after the fall apparently.

Bailey
was a character he had to admit. He was busy checking things, or so he said.

Irons
had of course done that as well as a chief. Sat in his office or more likely at
a station in main engineering and monitored the ship's systems in case of a
problem. More than one fault had been picked up on the spot by sharp eyes. It
was easier to pick it up in the earlier stages before it became a serious
problem.

He
looked around the bar. He had plenty of space around him, most of the room had
off duty personnel or the civilian passengers. Most of them were shooting him
the occasional dirty look that he ignored. He wasn't sure if they were annoyed
by his presence or annoyed that he hadn't said anything to them that would
allow them to snub him with a put down.

The
bar was nice, a simple metal affair going along the longest wall of the square
room. A food replicator was tucked into the corner. A simple beverage dispenser
was next to it.

Patrons
sat at the round tables around the room or bellied up to the bar on a bar stool
like he was doing. He had his foot on the brass foot rest and one hand on the
brass railing. He could feel the ship's sublight engines kick and then thrum
through the contact.

“ETA
to Agnosta III one week folks. We're getting there so be patient,” the skipper
said over the groans. Irons had to snort at that. Some people still thought you
could cross a star system in an hour or two. It didn't work that way in
sublight drive. If light took a week to cross a system and they were traveling
at less than half that speed... he shook his head, getting out of that mental
rut.

“Yes
Admiral?” The captain turned as the wardroom hatch opened.

Irons
paused and then nodded politely to the High elf executive officer as she
passed. She had ivory white skin, smooth and unblemished. There were blue
highlights here and there, accents most likely programmed into her genetics.
Her thirty centimeter long blue tipped ears twitched in his direction as she
passed but she gave no other sign of his presence as she left the room.

High
elves were a strange group. Back before Elves, the alien species called elves
had been found they had become a subspecies of humanity. A group of gamers and
fantasy enthusiasts had gene engineered themselves and their progeny into the
elf format.

They
were wiry thin, but had incredible strength and hearing. They had been
engineered over the generations to be stronger, faster, and longer living than
normal humans. Over time however the generations had become enthralled with
microgravity living, extending their life spans within space habitats or
augmenting themselves with cybernetics.

A
few of the elves, a subset had gotten back into gaming over time while
exploring their roots. They had taken it to the extreme though, either
terraforming colonies into the ideal forest elf habitat or retreating from
reality into a virtual world called the dream realm.

Some
were flighty, a common problem with high elves . They also tended to be aloof
from interaction with the so called muggles of the rest of civilization. The
exec however broke from the mold apparently.

He
hadn't had much contact with the exec, he was wondering if that was an over
sight he should remedy sometime. She seemed on the ball but distant. He nodded
as she flicked a glance over her shoulder and touched the hatch button to close
the door behind her.

He
turned to the captain and smiled. “I was wondering if I could step out for a
few hours and do some shopping?”

“Um...”
the captain looked confused. He shook his head after a moment. “Come again?”

“I...
here,” Irons concentrated and felt Sprite open a channel to the brand new holo
projector on the captain's desk. Something Irons himself had replicated only
the day before. After a second it lit and the lights dimmed. A view of the
system appeared and then the heliosphere was highlighted, then their location
blinked. Their course was plotted with a dotted line to the habitable planet's
orbit.

“Yes?
You want to go out? I can't see the reason why...”

“For
this.” He pointed. The view zoomed in to the ship and then rocks around them
were highlighted. “I'd like to pick a few rocks up. Like, oh say this one.” He
touched a rock and the image focused on that. It expanded to fill the holo. A
tumbling dirty rock was shown. After a moment lines appeared, pointing various
elements out.