Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) (15 page)

“Can
I ask you your name?” She looked down at the tablet as he sat down. He smiled.

“Irons.
John Henry Irons. Fleet Admiral, Federation Navy,” he replied. She looked up
startled.

“You’re
kidding,” she said in disbelief. He shook his head.

“About
my name? Unfortunately no, my parents had a thing for old Earth myths on
industry I guess.” He shook his head. She sat back and set the tablet down in
front of her.

“You’re
an Admiral? A real Admiral? From the war?” she asked clearly stunned. He
chuckled.

“Yes,
I am the real deal, I am a sleeper.” Her pale face started to get some color.
She nodded slowly. “Io 11 picked me up a little over fifteen months ago and
I've been with them. I debarked a couple days ago. I am staying with the Valdez
clan until another ship passes through.” He shrugged.

“So
you’re uh, staying on?” she asked.

“For
a while. I am too much of a star sailor to stay in one port too long.” He
smiled. “But since I am here, I decided to lend a hand.” He shrugged.

“There
is a rumor going around that it was you that fixed the Valdez tug?” she asked.
He nodded.

“Well,
I had a bit of help; I brokered a deal with the Io for use of their
fabricators.” He shrugged. She grunted.

“Do
you know anything about fixing the power grid? Or running a fusion reactor?”
The lights flickered again then went out. He looked at her as his eyes
automatically adjusted for night vision. By the looks of her infrared profile
she was afraid.

“I
know a great deal about engineering, I am a fleet engineer after all,” the
Admiral chuckled. When the lights didn't return he sent a signal to his implants.
After a second his right index finger began to glow, and then shine. It filled
the room with a greenish light.

“That's
better. Now you can see me.” He nodded. She licked her lips as her eyes
adjusted. “Takes some getting used to,” he smiled. She flushed. “Is there a
reason you asked me here?” He gave her a look.

“You
haven't had a physical,” she replied. He shook his head.

“So?
No station regulations require it. What do you really want?” he asked.

“Um,
ah, well, I was curious about the reports that you assaulted several security
guards,” she replied. He shook his head. The lights came on but dimmer than
before. He let the light on his finger go out.

“Doctor,
I don't remember assaulting a guard. I do remember several encounters,
including one a few minutes ago with rather annoying people waving guns
however.” He looked at her. She frowned.

“You’re
telling me you didn't break Berneky's arm?” she asked in disbelief.

He
chuckled. “I didn't know he was a guard, I thought he was a criminal trying to
perform a shake down.” He shook his head. “Well, I did send you some business I
guess, all in self defense of course.” He smiled. She shook her head.

“Well,
lucky for you the exec intervened. The Valdez family is on thin ice as it is...
No pun intended.” she said. The Admiral smiled.

“None
taken. I believe all debts are cleared, and they even have a tab running with
the station now.” He shrugged. She nodded.

“I
heard about the rock, I hope Sergio brings back some ice soon, we need it.” She
sighed as the ventilation cut out, then restarted.

“What's
going on?” he asked.

“Logan
collapsed and his daughter is having trouble keeping the fusion plant running
that's what's going on.” She sighed. “I see you don't know everything.” She
smiled at him. He smiled back.

 “Engineering
has its own net, and I can't get in from the outside. Otherwise I would have
found out sooner and taken a hand in things.” He shrugged. Slowly she nodded.

“All
right, well there are some people I would like you to meet.” She waved to him
as she got up. He followed her out.

“We've
done what we can to prevent radiation damage and inbreeding in the population.”
The CMO said as she dodged an orderly with a cart. Irons dodged the orderly
then grunted. “Mandatory genetic screening is a requirement for anyone on the
station, and we require cross breeding through in vitro fertilization whereever
possible.” She waved to a pregnant woman who was softly caressing her growing
belly. The Admiral nodded politely and continued to follow the doctor.

They
turned a corner and entered a trauma bay. Dozens of beds were along the walls,
some occupied, some not. The lights were dimming. An orderly came up and
whispered urgently to the doctor. She scowled. “Engineering has cut power to
most of the non essential decks but the Port Admiral has the computer
re-routing power from us to compensate.” Iron's implants easily caught the
explanation.

She
turned to him but he waved it aside. “I heard.” She looked confused but he
smiled. “Implants remember?” He shrugged her confusion off. “If the bottle is
not balanced properly then you can't get a stable power tap from it. It doesn't
matter how much fuel you have on hand.” He shrugged. She nodded.

Two
raised voices could be heard near the end of the bay. One was female, another
male. The male voice was urgent, asking for the woman to go back to
engineering. He was practically pleading with her. She flatly refused. The
doctor caught the raised timbre and her scowl deepened.

“Right
this way then.” She moved past the orderly and to a cloth enshrouded bay. She
pulled aside a drape and motioned for him to follow. He could easily see the
two figures turning.

“If
the two of you can't act like adults I will have you thrown out of here on your
ear, and no I don't give a damn what rank you have.” She gave them both a cold
look. They immediately shut up. She nodded. “That's better.” She turned to the
patient.

The
Admiral stood in the opening in the drapes and studied the patient while he
tried to deal with his emotions.

The
man was old, easily into his twilight years. He was wrinkled and his flesh was
pale, pock marked with scars. His eyes were closed. There was a yellowish tinge
to his flesh in some areas. What little hair he had was silver and scattered;
from the look of him he had had too much exposure to radiation.

He
was at least one hundred sixty centimeters tall, judging from the Admiral's
scan. “Admiral, he is Chief petty officer Horatio Logan according to his IFF.
Last duty station is as a power tech on the frigate Washington,” Sprite reported
softly. He nodded. “He's unconscious, he's suffering from several issues
including dehydration, radiation poisoning, malnutrition, exhaustion, a pinhole
in his heart, and severe over use of cybernetics,” she reported.

“I
am detecting blood clots in his blood stream. He's recently had a minor stroke
judging from his medical report. He has intense tissue swelling and irritation
around his implants. Classic signs of over use,” she finished. He shook his
head.

“Cancer?”
he asked.

“Most
likely a high possibility,” Sprite reported as the woman and man turned on him.

“Get
out. This is none of your business,” the woman growled reaching for the drape.
The doctor stopped her with a look.

“I
asked him here.” She turned back to examining the patient. She pulled an eyelid
open and flashed a light, then repeated the procedure with the other eye. She
examined the readouts and shook her head.

“We
need you both in engineering not up here,” the man pleaded, sounding almost
desperate. The woman looked at him enraged. The Admiral wrenched his attention
from the patient to them.

The
man was short, about one hundred fifty centimeters, with a pale complexion of
the true space born. He had curly black hair, thinning at his forehead. He had
an average build, and was dressed in a civilian uniform. The woman was tall,
over one hundred ninety centimeters, and had blond hair. She was easily in her
twenty's or thirties. She was well built, and held herself with professional
grace of either a trained athlete or dancer.

She
ran her hand through her hair and turned to the Doc. “He's just tired right?”
she asked. The doctor sighed and shook her head.

“He's
got so much wrong...” she said softly. The woman stiffened.

“Why
isn't he in your nanite regen tank?” the Admiral asked. “You've got several
listed in your TOE; I would think you would have him in there,” he asked. The
doctor sighed and gave the uniformed man a look. “You could say they are
reserved for more
Important
people.” She dripped sarcasm. The uniformed
man winced.

A
name hovered over his head on the Admiral's HUD. Enrique Fernando, executive
officer of the station. He nodded. Two windows opened on the HUD, Sprite was
running a comparison program with the patient and woman. She found a familial
match. He raised an eyebrow as the uniformed man studied him.

“Just
who are you?” the woman asked as the exec opened his mouth. He turned a
humorous glance on her but then back on the Admiral.

“Irons.
John Henry Irons. Fleet Admiral,” a weak voice answered her. She turned to see
her father raise a hand and point. He was trying to get out of bed or salute
but the doctor firmly pushed him back down.

“At
ease Chief,” the Admiral said softly.

The
chief smiled weakly. “Aye aye sir.”

The
woman turned from looking at her dad back to the Admiral in disbelief. She
seemed stunned. “You’re an Admiral?” she asked voice dripping in confusion.
Irons chuckled.

“Federation
Navy. Fleet Admiral.” He came to attention then went back to rest. “I'm passing
through and the Doc asked me to stop by,” he smiled.

“Glad
to meet another sleeper, let alone a familiar face chief. Rest up. We've got a
lot of catching up to do and a lot of work ahead of us,” the Admiral said,
gently patting a fabric covered foot. Weakly the chief nodded.

“Can
you get him into a regen tank soon?” Irons asked.

The
exec sighed still watching him. “No. The Port Admiral locked them down for his
exclusive use. We can't get access.” He shook his head.

“We'll
see about that.” Irons turned and stepped out.

“What
are you doing?” The nearby nurse asked. The daughter followed. He went over to
the nearest tank and examined it.

“It's
hopeless I already tried. He's got a computer...” Her voice faded as the
Admiral found the universal jack and morphed his ring finger into a jack to
jack in.

“Spirit
of space!” The daughter said stepping back involuntarily. He looked over his
shoulder to see the exec had come out as well and was watching.

“I'm
in. Password bypassed. I've got a fleet priority imperative. She's all yours
Admiral. That is if you dare use it with the power situation the way it is,”
Sprite reported. He nodded.

“I'm
in. It's old, but functional if we can get a steady power supply to it.” The
Admiral turned to the exec who looked away. The doctor came out of the bay and
nodded.

“Can
we do something about that Shelby? Enrique?” she asked them with a bite of
authority. The exec mumbled that he would see what he could do.

Shelby
nodded. “I'll see to it.” She moved off to make a call.

“Get
me a pair of orderlies here; we need to get this patient prepped for regen,”
the doctor ordered a nearby nurse. The nurse looked up, nodded and rushed off.

“Will
it help?” the exec asked, moving over to her side.

She
shrugged. “At this juncture, it would take a miracle. But with him here.” She
indicated the Admiral who smiled.

“The
possible is easy. Impossible takes a bit longer. Miracles are our specialty.”
He held up his right hand as it morphed back to normal.

“Since
I am here Doc, I can take a look.” He went over to the chief's bedside once
more. “Sprite, are you finished with your scan?” he sub vocalized.

“Finished.
I've compared it to the reading from the medical equipment; they are off by
several degrees,” she reported.

“Most
likely way past their last calibration.” He turned to the chief.

“He's
out,” the AI reported. “The left IV is a saline solution. Right is a vitamin
enriched one,” she pointed out. He nodded.

“Can
my nanites help?” he asked. Proteus appeared.

“You
would have to be in direct contact with him for a long time period Admiral, and
there is no guarantee of success. Quite the contrary with this extensive
damage,” the AI reported.

“What
about the criticals? Blood clots and pinhole?” he asked. Proteus lit a green
light.

“Ready.”
He held up a hand to the chief's forehead.

“Whatever
you’re doing you better do it soon, one of those blood clots has made it to the
brain,” Sprite reported. He gently placed his hand on the chief's forehead and
felt the nanites begin to flow.

“What
are you doing?” the doctor asked. The exec was staring. Several medical
personnel were coming forward.

“Shh,
blood clot. I need to get rid of it or he's dead,” the Admiral replied.