Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) Read online

  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. :)

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Author's afterward:

  Appendix and References:

  Chapter 1

  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 ha
nd.

  "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.

  "You might as well call your friends out and go look for easier pickings," the Admiral advised. He gently set the bag in his right hand down and then sent a code to morph his hand. Several of the onlookers gasped shrinking back. "That little needler in your hand is not going to do much except piss me off." The Admiral locked eyes with the leader. He could see sweat begin to bead on the man's forehead. One thing a predator didn't like was the potential of getting hurt. That could hurt their chances of long term survival. And tangling with a predator even bigger and nastier then they are is something they really really didn't like. "Security has been called," the Admiral advised.

  "Come on Ben, let’s go! No need to get sent out an airlock!" The girl with tattoo's on her face and arms grabbed the guy's arm. "He didn't mean it mister honest. We just need the money." She turned an imploring look on the engineer.

  "Well, we are living in interesting times. Why don't you and your friends look me up later? I may have work for you." He tilted his head to her.

  She looked at him startled. "You mean it? Even after this?" She waved her hands. He chuckled. "Yes, it shows you’re not afraid to defend yourselves. It's going to take strong willed people to put this place back in shape." The Admiral cocked his head. "Think about it," he said.

  The leader, Ben nodded slowly as his followers backed off. Defender had a plot up; the flanking team was already down the service passage and almost out of his scanner range. "Ben come on!" the girl urged. Ben walked backwards, not taking his eyes off the Admiral until he rounded the corner.

  "That was close," Sprite said softly.

  "It would have been if it had been an ambush as they had intended. He tried to bluff it out with fear and intimidation instead of brute force." The Admiral picked his bags up and turned back to his path.

  "We've got three more decks to navigate before we get to the Valdez home. I think it is wise if we stick to the main passages from here out," Sprite reported. Defender agreed with a green light.

  The Admiral nodded. "Right enough." He went on his way.

  After another ten minutes of careful navigation he finally approached a portal that Sprite indicated. It was clean at least, a lot cleaner than most of the station he had seen so far he noted. Most of the walls in the area had been covered in graffiti. The walls around the lock had been painted to cover graffiti. Not perfect, but better than some of the eye searing commentary people had been leaving behind and calling art. A worn dark bronze plaque was above the door's keypad. "Valdez family." Huh, here's the place." He set the bags down and tapped the entry chime.

  "The door is twelve centimeters thick Admiral, honeycomb titanium; I can't get a clear scanner feed beyond a few centimeters due to scatter," Sprite reported.

  "Just as well," the Admiral sighed. He looked around. The corridor was well lit and almost clean. Someone had taken time to clean it. Gravity was a little uneven, but manageable. Much better than some of the areas he had been forced to navigate getting here from the docks.

  "Yes?" a scratchy voice called over the intercom. He turned back to the door panel.

  "I'd like to speak with Mister or Misses. Valdez? I have a note from their daughter," he explained. There was a squeal then a static covered reply.

  The person tried again. "Leave it by the door," he managed to make out.

  "I'm an engineer, your daughter asked me to check in with you," he sighed. "Look you've got some cross talk with another channel; I am picking up some sub harmonics..." The door opened as he started to explain.

  "Give it here." A young man thrust his hand out of the crack. He was keeping the door only partially open. His free hand had a needler.

  "Is everyone armed on this station?" The Admiral shook his head. He reached up to his breast pocket.

  "Slowly," the young man cautioned hefting the gun.

  "What is it, what's going on?" a female voice echoed.

  The young man took his eyes off the Admiral to yell into the room. "Messenger Ma! I got it!" He turned back to the engineer.

  Gently he pulled up the Velcro flap and then reached in and pulled out a chip. "Give it here." The young man let go of the door to reach out a hand. "All right." The Admiral started to hand it over but a woman came through the door pushing the young man back. "Mom!" the young man hissed.

  She looked around the corridor. "What, no one else is here Junior knock off the tough guy routine." She turned her attention to the Admiral.

  "Your daughter's ship is in port. I was asked to give you a message and look you up." The Admiral handed her the message chip.

  "Juanita?" She looked tearful as they took the chip. "She's here?" she asked. "She shouldn't be here if the Port Admiral finds out!" She looked around hastily. Junior tried to shush her.

  "She's okay mama, I bet she won’t get off the ship." Junior tried to get her back into the room. "Thanks mister." He tried to pull the door shut but his mother reached out and blocked him.

  "Mister, you look like you could use a place to bed down. It's getting near graveyard, and if you don't have a place to stay security will pitch you out the nearest airlock." She motioned him to come in.

  "But MOM!"

  She turned on Junior. "Not another word. Go help your father." She held the door open as the Admiral hefted the bags. "You sure got a lot of gear," she said.

  He chuckled. "I made most of it on the Io a week or so ago." He squeezed past her and into the room beyond. The lights were dim, his implants automatically adjusted for low light vision.

  "I know it is kind of dark, but our electric bill has been really high," she sighed.

  "Oh it's no problem, I can adjust." H
e smiled at her in the dark. She closed the door and patted his arm.

  "This way." She led. He followed.

  "So you know Juanita?" she asked. "How is she?" She moved around a pallet of gear and to another door. It's rim was lit from a light on the other side. "This is our living quarters." She opened it and went inside. He went in and then set his gear down where she indicated.

  "Juanita is an EVA crew chief now. As well as an H&A inspector." He looked around. The room was lit with under cabinet lighting. The furniture was beaten and old, but clean. The floors were patched but clean and neat like the walls.

  "EVA tech? She goes outside?" her mother asked.

  "Yes ma'am, she was one of my better students," the Admiral admitted.

  She looked up sharply. "One of your better students?" she asked as she stopped stirring a pot.

  "Yes ma'am, I am an engineer, a sleeper I think you call it. The Io11 picked me up about fifteen months ago and I've spent that time helping them rebuild the ship from stem to stern." He smiled.

  "The ship's been rebuilt?" the mother asked clearly shocked.

  A girl, ten or twelve with black pigtails came in. "Momma, dad asked if you could hold off dinner for an hour."

  Her mother frowned ferociously. "He knows better than to ask that! Honestly! That man! Dinner is at five like every night." She wiped her hands on her apron, turned the temperature down then stormed off. The girl gave the Admiral a questioning look then followed her mother. The Admiral shrugged.

  "Should we follow?" Sprite asked.

  He shrugged. "Why not." The AI put a map up on his plot. He followed it. Half way there he realized he didn't need it; the raised voices were all he needed to home in on.

  "Chica go stir the pot and finish your reading like a good child." The girl came out as he came into the bay. It was a shuttle bay with a battered tug nestled in the center. Parts were strewn about. A man was lying on his back under the tug working while the woman berated him. The boy, Junior glared balefully at the intruders.