Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) (85 page)

"Still
ticked?" Irons asked. Logan nodded. "Save it for later." He
turned back to Shelby. "In the old times, before the Xeno war if a ship
was no longer of any use we would tear it apart or destroy it. We called it
sending it to the breakers. Really we were recycling it so it wouldn't fall
into the wrong hands. But there are those that can't stand that, many are her
old crew," he shrugged.

"This
is a bit of jumping the gun though," Logan said suddenly looking
thoughtful. "Some thing's up, it doesn't compute," he gave Irons a
look. Irons shrugged.

"Something
I'm missing? Care to clue me in?" Shelby asked crossing her arms and
looking from one to the other. Logan gave the Admiral a look.

"We've
gotten word that there is something in the wind and we, meaning mainly me, may
bear the brunt of it," Irons answered.

"Something
in the wind?" Shelby asked.

"Politics.
It seems the Admiral has become an obstacle to some and they want him out of
the way," her father explained. Shelby looked concerned.

"Kill
you?" she asked. He shook his head.

"I
doubt it. I'm a bit hard to kill," he tapped his right arm.

"Still,
it doesn't pay to be overconfident Admiral," Shelby warned. Irons nodded.

"That's
why I am here or on Firefly. Sprite varies my schedule so it is hard for anyone
to pin me down," he shrugged.

"Sometimes
I make it to things, sometimes I am detained, I attend virtually, or I take
a... more or less random looking route between one meeting place and
another," Irons smiled. “I never follow the same path twice.”

"So
they can't hit you easily. Right," Logan nodded. "I noticed you’re
not going to the Valdez compound as often." Irons frowned. Then shrugged.

"Anita
will get over it. She knows I am very busy and I can go for days without food.
Not that she'd let me." He chuckled with them.

"I
had a word with her about it. She's got her hands full with the new recruits.
Valdez towing is becoming quite the booming business. She said to tell you she
understands," Logan said as he studied the battleship.

"Wish
you were out there as well, tearing into her?" Shelby asked her father and
the Admiral, looking exasperated and amused at the same time. Irons chuckled.

"Yes
and no. I've had my salad days though. Maybe tearing into the inside," he
grinned. Logan chuckled.

"I
may get over there to play a bit," Logan laughed. "If I can get out
from under the mountain of paperwork that keeps getting shoveled into my inbox.
You are welcome to join me anytime Admiral." Irons gave him an amused
look.

"You
know I can't resist a gauntlet like that. You’re on," he smiled.
"We've got to tear her apart though," he said shaking his head.
“Right down to bare metal.”

"Tear
her apart? I thought you were putting her together?" They turned to see
Captain Mayweather enter the blister. Irons smiled.

"Admiral,
Commanders," she came to attention and then saluted the Admiral and Logan.
Each came to attention and returned the salute.

"Good
to see you Captain. And yes, we've got to gut her down to her bare metal. Only
way to be sure we don't miss any frame damage. I uploaded a rough blueprint in
the secure database to follow."

Irons
shrugged. Logan had created a trio of secure databases. Each would serve as a
nucleus for the reborn Federation military. One was the largest, the
engineering mainframe. It would remain on Anvil until they had their own
independent space station or shipyard fully up and running. Hopefully by the
end of the year if their schedules held. Back up archives were going to be set
up on secure platforms in case anything happened. In fact the archives had been
tabled twice already. There was just too much to do. So far no one in the
system knew it was there.

"I
heard about that historical nut group. Scuttlebutt is all over the system. It
even made the news," Mayweather shook her head. She leaned against the
guard rail. "Idiots, don't they realize we need these ships? Without them
we can't protect them?" she scowled. Irons looked over to Logan then
shrugged.

"My,
she's become quite a firebrand. And turning native too," Sprite murmured.
Irons nodded slightly.

"The
universe is filled with people. There have to be some idiots mixed in
somewhere. We've got our fair share apparently," Logan deadpanned. Shelby
smiled sourly.

"After
the past century of nut jobs at the top, I'm not surprised some didn't get off
when the Port Admiral fled with the rest of the rats. I am surprised that they
laid low for this long though," she shook her head.

Mayweather
smiled at her reflection. "Yeah, it is rather suspicious." She turned
to the Admiral who cocked his head. "It is suspicious isn't it?" she
asked suddenly looking thoughtful. "I wonder what they are up too..."
She turned back to the ship.

"Could
they be quislings?" she turned to Logan who spread his hands.

"Spies?
Anything is possible I suppose. Unlikely though. The chairman of their little
society is the honorable Mr. Harding," he grimaced.

"Harding?
That idiot?" Shelby asked.

"Name
match Admiral. Harding of Harding merchant cartel. He runs a family trade group
on the station. Purchases goods from the station or trades with ships or nearby
colonies buying and selling goods. Nearly one third of the station's storage is
leased to the cartel. He has been attempting to buy out the captured
ships," Sprite reported.

"Who?"
Mayweather asked.

"Merchant
cartel," Irons replied. "Buys and sells goods." He shrugged.

"He
makes quite a profit. Or at least he did, the sudden upsurge in replicators has
probably dented his business," Logan said rubbing his jaw.

“You'd
think it'd be the other way around. People need to store goods after all,”
Shelby said darkly. “He charged us an arm and a leg when we had stuff to
store.”

"So
he's trying to return to the status quo? Is he nuts?" Mayweather asked
dismayed.

"Most
likely. Hindsight is twenty twenty. Some people pay so much attention to what
they had and lost instead of looking to what they could do in the future with
what they got," Logan replied. Irons gave him a surprised look then
nodded.

"Picked
it up after listening to Perry's last history lecture," Logan admitted
with a smile. They chuckled.

"Still,
something else is going on. Did you notice the advertising blitz on
Representative and Senators? The elections are over but they are still doing
it. Talking about how well things are going, how good a job they are doing.
That sort of thing. They even pulled Knox into it. They got him to do an
infomercial on the chairwoman." Mayweather turned around leaning back with
her elbows on the guard rail.

"Knox?
He's as apolitical as they come!" Logan said suddenly then swore.

"Yeah,
but during the election they shut down when one of the other candidates sued
for equal air time. Judge Farley scheduled the case to be heard next
week," she shrugged. “Fat lot of good it will do them, election is over.”
Mayweather said turning around and resting her elbows on the guard rail.

"Talk
about a problem," Shelby muttered. "Glad it’s not my headache,"
she shook her head.

“The
governor will be ours,” Logan said shaking his head. “Or should I say, governor
elect. You're to hand over the reins soon?”

“Next
week actually. I've tried to get to talk to him but he keeps ducking out,”
Irons growled. “I'd like to touch base with the man, lay out my plans and let
him get on board but he's not interested.”

“Hopefully
that will change.”

“Well,
he's not getting the key codes until he does,” Shelby growled.

“Well,
I technically have to give them to him Commander,” the Admiral sighed. She
looked at him in disbelief. He shrugged “But since he still hasn't had implant
surgery, it's a moot point anyway,” he smiled. She did too.

“Oh
I like that,” Logan chuckled. “Hoist on his own petard. Or at least laziness.
That'll teach them.”

"Right,
we stay out of it. WE have enough of our own without adding to it," Irons
said, waving to the ships. They turned to look at them once more.

"Beautiful,"
Mayweather said softly.

"They
will be. In time," Irons answered equally soft.

"It's
nice to see you Admiral. Come in and have a seat." He followed the steward
to the female voice. He'd rather be back in the yard any day over doing this.
Sometimes he thought Sprite did this sort of thing on purpose. He'd had her
clear his schedule yesterday so he could spend the time in the yard... and
innocently duck any plans for a birthday celebration anyone had in mind. Now
this.

"Well,
that was a lie if I ever heard one. Wonder what whopper she'll tell you next?
Wanna bet she's got some swampland or a bridge for sale?" Sprite asked
acidly. Irons cocked his head.

The
chairwoman was sitting beside a holographic fireplace. She smiled at him as if
she was taking him in. He nodded politely. She was dressed in a more relaxed
outfit, not her gray conservative business suit she had worn like a suit of
armor during the constitutional convention.

"Good
evening madam chairwoman. Or should I call you speaker?" the Admiral asked
politely. A steward offered him a drink but he declined.

"Oh
chairwoman will do. It's amusing how we cling to our titles isn't it
Admiral?" she purred studying the drink she was holding with her finger
tips.

"Wow,
what a barb. I see it hit too," Sprite commented.

"We
do define ourselves by our accomplishments and our pretensions don't we?"
the Admiral replied sitting in the overstuffed chair across from her.

"Hmm,
that we do, that we do," she agreed. "I have been getting concerns
about your future and the future of the people who have aligned around
you."

"You
mean the navy?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

"Well
yes, you can call it that if you must," she said.

"Another
jab. This is fun. Too bad I'm just a spectator. Or maybe that's a good thing?
Okay, too bad I'm the only spectator," Sprite commented, sounding gleeful.

"Do
you have a problem with our purpose madam?" Irons asked. She sat back,
eyes hooded.

"Well,
it does put a tremendous drain on our rebuilding efforts."

"How
so? The navy is self sufficient now," the Admiral asked, putting his best
effort into looking pleasantly confused.

"Well,
to put it bluntly it does drain in manpower. The people you are using are some
of our best and brightest. They could do much more then play soldier." She
watched the shot go home but was surprised that he didn't react much beyond
cocking his head.

"Playing
soldier?"

"Well,
these military exercises, the sims and such," she waved her hands
dismissively. "That time could be better put to use transporting materials
or people."

"The
navy is not a transport merchant house ma'am. The exercises are designed to
train our people and explore the limits of the equipment," Irons sat back
amused. This was an age old argument. He had been peripherally caught by it a
few times before so now he was on more solid ground.

"Well
you must admit it does take up time and resources," she said starting to
sound heated.

"Training
usually does," the Admiral smiled. “We of course can replace that without
tapping the taxes your system will be paying.”

"For
what? The war is over," she brushed that idea off. "The war is in the
past where it belongs. We have no more time to waste on it."

"I
would think after the recent visitors we just had you would have a different
point of view," the Admiral said softly. He watched as suddenly she
flushed and her nostrils dilated.

"My,
that drew blood. Do it again," Sprite said, sounding admiring.

"Again
that is in the past. I speak of the future."

"Those
who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it. Or doomed to worse than
the past," the Admiral said shaking his head.

"I
have no intention of deliberating the point. We need your ships to transport
goods to the colonies and render assistance. The ships engineers will be put to
work..." Irons held up his hand palm out to stop her. "What?"
she asked incensed.

"I'm
afraid the navy is outside your jurisdiction madam chairwoman. We answer to our
own chain of command."

She
glared. "And just who do you think you answer to?" she asked.

"The
Constitution and the Federation government."

"The
Government? We are the government!" she slapped her arm rest. Irons
laughed.

"You
are a single system. To form the body of the legislature of the Federation you
need a quorum of elected Senators and Representatives from each surviving star
system. Two senators from each system and one representative for every one
million people," the Admiral smiled. "Then there is the presidency,
you need a general election in each  participating star system to elect a
person for the office," he shrugged. "That person actually is who
commands the military." He smiled again. "Not you," he finished
softly.