Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) (55 page)

"The
Admiral is correct Senior Montoya." The avatar bowed. Montoya handed his
drink to a steward then turned.

"Excuse
me," he said curtly then walked off stiffly.

"Something
I said?" Irons asked innocently. Enrique sighed shaking his head.

"I
just can't take you anywhere these days," Sprite said teasingly.

Irons
chuckled. "And here you are the AI worried about IP rights?" Irons
asked.

"That’s...
okay, your right." He watched as the AI saluted him on his HUD.
"Touché Admiral. Well said." He chuckled.

"So
what is this dog and pony show about anyway? You said a fund raiser?"
Irons asked turning to the exec and AI avatar.

"Yes
well, some of the more well to do people on the station have them to support
various causes. It's really an excuse to get together and show off their wealth
and socialize." He shrugged.

"Right.
so what is this one about?" he asked.

"Oh,
um, I think it has something to do with raising defense funds. To help you
fight the pirates," Enrique shrugged, draining his drink. A steward
appeared at his elbow to take the empty glass and refill it.

"Thanks,"
he nodded then turned and walked. The Admiral and holo avatar followed. As
people passed between the projectors and the avatar it would flicker.

"So
are we going to actually see any of this money?" Irons asked.

"Probably
not. After they factor in the cost of throwing the party, most definitely
not," Enrique shook his head wryly.

"So
why am I here?" Irons asked suddenly testy.

Enrique
looked up alarmed. "Why to show the flag of course!" he waved.
"To show these people a real hero." He tried to smile disarmingly as
the Admiral tried hard not to grind his teeth.

"Right,
well, since we're not going to benefit from this peacock display, I have more
important things to be doing." He handed a nearby steward his glass.

"I'll
give them your regrets of course," the AI said smoothly.

"Yeah,
whatever, you do that. We'll talk about that later. When we have more time. IF
we have more time," Irons said. The babble of conversation around him
paused as people turned to look at him. He knew he was making a scene.

"Later,"
Irons nodded and walked out.

"I
really can't take you anywhere anymore can I? All dressed up for the ball and
no one could see me but you," Sprite teased. Irons grunted.

"You
could have warned me about that farce. I do have more important things to be
doing," he said tightly. “We've got a ship to fix, other ships to get, and
a battle to fight.”

"Noted.
I assumed you wanted to see the movers and shakers of the station though."

"That
group of overdressed peacocks?" Irons laughed despairingly. "They
couldn't find their ass with approach radar and directions!" He shook his
head.

"No,
the real movers and shakers are the people keeping this station together,
people like Logan and his daughter and the men and women they trained. The Doc,
the exec," he growled. He nodded to the guards as he passed them.

"Noted.
I'll make sure to send your regrets for any follow up fund raisers,"
Sprite replied. Irons nodded.

"You
do that."

"Admiral,
I'd like to talk to you about setting up a museum." He sighed as he
turned. He didn't need this crap. How were they coming to find him, and why now
of all times? A mousy woman and rail thin man stood behind him. The woman
smiled hesitantly.

He
raised his eyebrow. "And you are?" he asked. If this was going to
keep up he was going to have to limit his time on the station. He didn't need
the distractions.

"Oh,
oh. Um My name is Margret Finch, and this is my husband Gerard." They
shook hands.

"All
right, now what is this about a museum?" Irons asked. They were in a
corridor near Ops. He looked around. "Perhaps we can take this somewhere
more private?" he asked.

"Got
it. Conference room two doors down on your right. It's unoccupied," Sprite
informed him.

"This
way." He led them to the conference room and then sat at the head of the
table.

"All
right, you want to set up a museum? What type?" he asked. He checked the
clock on his HUD. He had about twenty minutes to go through with this farce.
Then again, maybe some good will come out of it in the long run.

"Oh
a full museum, not an art one. We have plenty of art galleries and art
museums," Gerard replied with a sniff. “There is one private museum but it
is filled with vehicles. We want to be more of a general museum.”

Margret
nodded enthusiastically. "You see, we found a storage room filled with
materials! It was being transshipped to the museum on the planet I guess. It
has some interesting materials we'd like to use, along with patterns for
skeletal structures. We've talked to the doctor, she offered us her anatomical
database as well," Margret sounded enthusiastic.

"Several
people have offered copies or outright loans of their personal collections to
help build up our catalog," Gerard said with pride. Irons nodded
thoughtfully.

"So
a general museum geared for all things? Anatomy, sciences, history? You’re
talking about a real museum not a virtual one?" He looked from one to the
other. Slowly they looked at each other then back to him and nodded. "All
right, I can contribute as well. You need my permission?"

They
looked surprised then eager. "Yes, but we need space and power as well.
And workers," Margret waved. "We've got a space in mind but it is
occupied," she sniffed.

"Where?"
Irons tapped the conference controls. The lights dimmed startling the Finch's
until the holo projector came on, emitting light. The light formed into the
station schematic.

"Here,"
Margret pointed to the college deck.

"I'm
afraid we're using that for the college," Irons answered.

"Oh.
Dear me, we didn't know that." Margret turned to her husband.

"What
about here?" Irons asked pointing to a section three decks high shaped
like a rounded pie slice. The tip was cut out for the core of course.

"No,
that won’t do, it's all vertical!" Margret sounded distressed.

"Besides
it's very far away from the proper parts of the station," she waved to the
luxury quarters.

“So
is the college where you wanted the museum in the first place. This space was
set up for a museum.”

"There
is a lot of riff raft in that area, we want to keep them out," her husband
said in disdain then sniffed.

Irons
froze for a moment. "Those riff raft are your fellow citizens and have
every right to experience a museum," he said quietly. The Finches
flinched.

"As
far as it not being a linear museum, well, that is the best I can do. It will
give you several decks so you can spread things out. Sciences on one, history
on another, art and culture on another," he shrugged. “It has a spiral
sloped deck so people can enter on one deck then move up or down and exit the
other deck.”

"It
will also let you assemble large structures if needed." He pulled up a
list on his implant. He started to scroll through different animal names.

"Allow
me Admiral," Sprite sounded amused. A tyrannosaurus skeleton appeared on
the ground floor. It stretched up to the top of the second deck. It was posed
like it was roaring to the heavens. The Finches oohed and ahed. Irons chuckled.

"I
didn't know they were really that big!" Margret turned in awe to the
Admiral. Irons shrugged. "That's actually a medium sized dinosaur from
Earth. Some were much larger. And of course that's just earth's history, there
are many animals from the Federation. A whale from Janus for example.” Sprite
replaced the Rex skeleton with a  long whale skeleton. It spiraled up to the
top of the museum. Of course you’re going to need warehouse space to store
displays not in use so you can cycle through new material periodically.” He
shrugged. “I've got a few things in my database that you can use as templates
to make copies of.” He frowned at the display after a moment.

“You
can also do an exploration of the old Federation. Their worlds and people.  And
even a few of our allies and citizens," he nodded. Sprite switched the
whale out for a spiral view of the planets of the Federation, then  replaced
that with a squid like being. It's body was large, a fully adult Ssislli Irons
realized. He had seen them before of course, they looked like a cross between a
Terran plesiosaur, lion fish, blue whale, hammerhead shark, and a humble squid.

"What
is that?" Margret reared back.

"One
of our alien citizens. A Seti Ssislli. Also known as a Ssisilruk. Their species
name tends to change depending on what colony or sea they are from.  They were
water creatures. The best hyper navigators in space. They had some incredibly
intricate three dimensional art as well which you may be familiar with. They
also did some incredible things with sonics." Irons shook his head.

"Well,
we can't have something like that scaring people," the woman waved her
hands. "All tentacles, eyes and... and things." She shuddered. Her
husband gravely nodded.

"Well,
it can be discussed later," Irons said as Sprite flashed him a warning he
was late.

"All
right, I'll talk with the command staff then let you know how the proposal
goes. I suggest you get Mr. Knox to endorse this and ask for volunteer help.
You're going to need people to repair the space, renovate it, and man it after
all.” They blinked at that then nodded. “In the meantime I suggest you get with
your backers and work on your catalog and document the history of each item. If
you can, try to research and document it as well." He nodded as he stood.

They
hastily stood. Gerard held out his hand. Irons shook it. "Pleasure meeting
you two. I'll be in touch." He exited as they murmured together.

"That
was interesting," Sprite said. Irons chuckled.

"I
didn't expect their xenophobia though. You'd think after nearly a thousand
years we'd be over that sort of thing," Irons replied.

"You
organics have a tendency to regress through ignorance Admiral," the AI
said smugly. Irons chuckled again.

“I
didn't need the distraction, but hopefully something good will come of it.”

“You
always were a softy for educational ventures,” Sprite teased. He nodded.

“All
right, where were we?” he asked, eyebrow arched.

“A
ten thirty appointment, check in with Ops, then you need to swing by the doctor
to have a chat. She's having issues and wants to bend your ear. By that time
Chief Logan believes her crews will have the pod straightened out. I believe
the scheduled departure time is fifteen hundred.”

“Okay,
lets be about it then shall we?”

“Something
up Doc?” the Admiral asked watching the doctor study a text file. She looked up
with a irritable grimace.

“Yes
I was hoping Firefly had something on the implant procedures for the elves.”

“Ah?”
Irons asked, arms uncrossing from his chest. “Oh, the scale?”

“Yes.
Their neurology is extremely dense. I'm having trouble sorting it out. It's
definitely a nanite job, no question about that. But I'm concerned about their
size. There is only so much I can cram into their bodies.”

“Doctor;
Elves and a few of the other smaller citizens know this and they know they will
get only the implants their bodies can handle,” Firefly said softly. The
holographic image of the centurion briefly came on then flickered and went out
as the projector started sparking.

“Damn,”
the AI said from the overhead speaker, sounding vexed.

“Put
it on the repair list. Bottom of the list,” Irons said with a sigh. “You were
saying?” he said looking up to the nearest camera.

“Yes.
As I was saying the elves receive the nanite enhancement pack,  we clean them
out and they receive the artificial liver but that's about all we can fit into
the thorax without displacing or removing something else.”

“Yes
I see...”

“There
is a notation about carbon nanotube fiber sheaths?” the doctor said pointing to
a page.

“Correct.
For muscle and skeletal reinforcement,” the AI replied.

“Okay,
how does all that get powered? Where do we stick the power plant?”

“We
don't. They get a couple of one centimeter long superconductor batteries
embedded in their femurs. Since they have the structural reinforcement they can
fit in without a major loss.”

“So
your saying almost a complete rebuild,” the doctor said sighing. “On a micro
scale.” She groaned softly, head in her hands.

“What's
this about?” Irons asked flicking his attention through the text. Medical
jargon was just that... jargon to him. He didn't get half of it. Then again,
engineers have been told their own material was hard for others outside their
profession to read. He shrugged and closed the window.