Read Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) Online
Authors: Chris Hechtl
Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer)
The Wandering Engineer 2:
Fool’s Gold
By Chris “Jekyll” Hechtl
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and
events portrayed in this book are fictional. The exception is Dr. Bowyer who
graciously gave his permission to use his name and his work in this book. Any
resemblance to other people is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce
this book and or portions thereof in any form.
Copyright 2010 by Chris Hechtl
Cover art Copyright 2010 by Chris Hechtl and Chris
“Mechmaster” Smith
Some 3d models are stock Inspire 3D assets. All others
by Chris Hechtl.
Textures from Inspire 3D and the web.
The Admiral's suit was sculpted in Sculptris.
This book is dedicated to all those science fiction
and space fans out there. May your reach never exceed your grasp for long.
Someday, somehow, we'll touch the stars.
Special thanks to Mechmaster for doing an awesome job
of keeping me honest by both proof reading and then copy editing. Thanks dude.
:)
Exiting
the lock was something he had done on many occasions. This time felt different.
He was leaving a world he had built for fifteen months, a world that is all
that is left to him. He knew it would be hard, but losing that world was
something he had to do to make the galaxy a better place once more. He'd made
similar sacrifices after all. But this, this was just different. "Buck up
Admiral, you've done this before." Sprite, always in tune with his
emotions put her finger on the problem. It was true, he was a naval officer,
and he should be used to change. It was part of being in the navy. Or at least
it was when the navy existed.
"So
what is first on the agenda? Get a lay of the land?" Sprite; always
intuitive.
He
smiled. "Got it in one." He nodded to the security personnel by the
lock. They looked a little scruffy. One had a tomato stain on the front of his
patched coverall. The other had his unbuttoned. Their shock sticks looked in
good order however.
One
of the women gave him a jaunty salute. "Good luck Admiral, you’re going to
need it. Just remember, we'll be here till the end of the week in case you
change your mind," she said. He nodded. He stepped through the lock and
looked around. The dock was grimy, with the smell of hydraulics and sewage.
He
passed a stack of crates and wandered up to the customs desk. The girl behind
the desk looked bored. "Reason for transit? Oh, from the Io? You'll be on
a two day pass then." She tapped at a computer terminal then shook her
head.
"Okay,
you’re in the system. Make sure your back at your ship in two days or security
can pitch you out the nearest airlock or toss you into the plasma field."
She gave him a warning glance he nodded dutifully. "Good. Get going.
Casino is on deck eleven." She waved a dismissal.
He
shook his head as he exited the area. "You realize she took your picture
right?" Sprite asked.
"Yeah,
I spotted the cameras. I suppose you can get into the net and make some
alterations to my file?" he asked.
"She
didn't even ask your name. Pathetic," Sprite replied. "I'd have to do
a visual image search of their customs database... which I can't do until you
jack in. This place has no Wi-Fi connection," she finished.
He
sighed as he ducked under dangling wires. He looked over to see something
dripping down the wall from a busted pipe fitting. Mold was growing on it and
the surrounding area. "Somehow, I'm not the least bit surprised."
"Info
booth two doors down on your right Admiral," Sprite reported as he entered
the main corridor.
"Got
it. Thanks." He set the bags down and muscled the door open, then pushed
the bags in with him.
"Good
idea. No need for someone to pull a snatch like on Seti 3," Defender
observed. He nodded as he examined the communications console. It was a mess,
wiring hung from different ports. The view screen was shattered. The speaker
was shredded. He tried not to step in the trash and mold in one corner.
"Typical."
He sighed as he felt his right arm morph. "Coming right up." He held
his arm up and let Proteus go to work. In a few minutes he had a working
console.
"Jacking
in. As expected, viruses galore. It's a wonder this place still functions
honestly," Sprite reported. He chuckled. "Counter intrusive measures
instigated. Some of these are nasty! I'm dumping an antivirus bot and copying
it a few hundred times before getting it to clean out some of this mess."
He closed his eyes as Sprite fed him a map.
"Typical
mining station. Civilian grade, one hundred twenty decks with life support.
Vertical designed spindle, everything is around a central axis. Top is the
command, docks, and most of the living quarters, bottom are the reactors.
Central shaft are elevators and utility lines. We're in a stable orbit of the
largest gas giant in the system. This is a very utilitarian design," she
finished.
He
nodded. "Easy to maintain I guess. If they even bothered in the past seven
hundred years." He used his implants to shrink the map down and to his
right. Sprite fed him a link and he opened it. A window appeared with a map of
the core.
"Navigating
this is tricky; it looks like the engineering core is off on its own network.
Smart. There is an AI in here but it is senile and a little demented. Class one
obviously. Someone should dump the poor thing and reboot from a hard
copy," Sprite reported. "I have a partial command structure, dumping
it to your in box." He nodded. "Valdez family?" he asked.
"Location
confirmed. Juanita was correct, they haven't moved. They are on deck twenty
outermost deck to the hull. It looks like they have a private merchant dock.
Three shuttle bays, machine shops, storage warehouses, and quite a lot of cubic
space for a family," Sprite reported.
He
smiled. "Yeah, Juanita said they have a freelance tug business going. Good
place to start." He nodded.
"Map
has been refreshed with what Intel I can get. I'll need more time to correlate
the data I have. I can however give you directions to their quarters now,"
Sprite reported as she returned to his net. "Miss me?" she asked
impishly.
"Cute.
I think you've been around civilians a little too long. You're starting to lose
your military courtesies," the Admiral chuckled.
"Sir
yes sir!" She saluted him on his HUD.
He
chuckled. "And don't you forget it. Now let’s..." He turned as he
un-jacked to see an unshaven and slightly demented face pressed up beside him.
"What're
you doin' in my space! That's my space!" A scrawny unshaven man slammed a
club onto the counter. Spittle sprayed onto the front of the admiral. He
grimaced.
"Easy
old timer, I just needed to get some information," the Admiral cautioned
as he stepped out of the booth. The oldster backed up and wiped spittle from
his mouth with the back of his spotted hand.
"Just
you no never mind. Get your fancy pants out of my niche!" He waved the
stick.
"No
problem." The Admiral picked up his bags, watching the man warily on his
HUD with his sensors. Defender was on his mind; his shields were spooled up but
were not covering his entire body with his pack load. "All yours."
The Admiral smiled as he went off.
"And
don't you forget it sonny!" He waved as he left. Behind him the vagrant
entered the booth and then came back out. "Hey how did you fix it?"
he called. The Admiral chuckled as he rounded a corner.
"What
a lice and flea infested bag of protoplasm,” Sprite said distastefully.
“Admiral the lifts are on lock down, for selected personnel only," Sprite
reported. "And we are what? Ten decks away? Hell I am not going to try a
ladder with this load." He shook his head.
"Well,
as I said, the personnel lifts are locked down, there is a security guard at
each... but the cargo lifts are a different story," Sprite suggested.
He
chuckled. "Any way you can get into a wireless link?" he asked.
"No
go, I checked earlier. The station doesn't have them on these decks, only the
upper decks. I can't get anything but static at this distance," she
reported. He sighed. "Great. Okay, so which way?" He looked around.
He was at a T junction. A ball floated in front of him then bounced to his
right.
"Follow
the bouncing ball Admiral. I made reservations for this particular lift but it
will only get us part of the way," Sprite replied. He grunted and shook
his head then sighed.
A
few minutes later he was in the depths of the station and not enjoying the
sights and smells. Definitely not enjoying the experience. From what he could
see the station was being held together with rigger tape and hope.
"Seems
like you have a lot of stuff there, what say me and my mates relieve you of
some of it?" The gravelly voice made the Admiral turn. He'd been ignoring
the life signs on his HUD. Apparently that had been a mistake.
"Defensive
systems on. Shields at twenty percent. The baggage is causing problems with my
protocols. Recommend detachment," Defender reported. "Station
security isn't responding Admiral." The Admiral grimaced as he looked the
would be muggers over. There were two hulking men, a tattooed woman with
piercings all over her face, and two more hiding in a service shaft ninety
degrees off his left side. They were dressed as goth punks. Some styles never
go out apparently, he mused.