Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) Read online

  His mother caught his eye and he nodded his chin to the Admiral. "What is it? Oh!" She turned on him.

  "This is a series four short range tug? Samsonite engine or a Smythe series three?" The Admiral looked the craft over.

  "Smythe." A voice under the tug answered then swore in Spanish. He began to wiggle out from under the tug. Sprite blipped an attention marker then overlaid a sensor scan of the man. He was extensively injured.

  When he came out the Admiral watched quietly as he pulled himself to his feet. He winced as the woman tried to help but the man curtly shook it off. "Jorge please!" she whispered fiercely. He shook it off with a small snarl and grimace then patted her hand. His face was battered and bruised. His right arm was in a sling. His right leg was braced and wrapped; it looked like his knee had been injured. "These injuries are consistent with a beating Admiral," Defender reported. The Admiral nodded.

  "Jorge Valdez." Jorge wiped his left hand on his grimy coverall then held it out. "Fleet Admiral John Irons," the Admiral replied and shook the extended hand as his host's eyes widened.

  "Fleet Admiral?" he asked dumbstruck.

  Irons smiled. "Yes, though it is sort of redundant at the moment." He shrugged as they broke the handshake.

  "Does that outrank a Port Admiral?" Junior asked giving him another look.

  Irons chuckled. "Yes. A Port Admiral is a civilian; usually the position is created in a local system to handle traffic or an elaborate command structure," he shrugged.

  "He knows Juanita, Jorge; he said he taught her on her ship the Io." Mrs. Valdez whispered.

  Jorge smiled. "You've crossed paths with little Juanita?" His smile grew.

  "She's grown well and strong. She's an EVA crew boss and H&A inspector on the Io11. They are in port for a week." The Admiral waved to the door.

  "She's here?" Jorge asked alarmed. Junior jumped down from his perch and looked at the Admiral.

  "No, she's on her ship. She won't leave it she said," the Admiral replied.

  "You can send her a message or ask the captain for permission to visit her on board," the Admiral advised. Mrs. Valdez nodded.

  "Momma! It's boiling over!" The girl called urgently.

  "Excuse me!" She rushed past them. Jorge chuckled.

  "How did you get to be a fleet Admiral?" Junior asked curious.

  "I was a full Admiral before I went into cryostasis. When I woke up I checked the computer and it reported I had been promoted while I was asleep." Irons smiled then shrugged off his explanation. "As I said, the rank doesn't matter much now, I know." He glanced at Junior then returned his gaze to the patriarch.

  "You’re an engineer?" Jorge asked.

  "Yes, I taught your daughter and the crew of Io 11 a lot of what they missed," Irons explained. "We rebuilt the ship from stem to stern; she's almost as good as when she was first launched," the Admiral finished with quiet pride.

  "I bet they had their hands full," Junior shook his head. "No way could anyone fix a ship..." Jorge waved him off then turned with a scowl.

  "Sergio, why don't you go get cleaned up and ready for supper." He waved to the door. Angrily the young man stomped off. Jorge sighed. "Ah the joys of youth." He smiled then gave the Admiral a long measuring look. "I take it Juanita sent you here to give us a hand?" he asked.

  Irons smiled. "Something like that. I determined Pyrax is the next best place to work so your daughter suggested I check in with you and your family." He smiled as Jorge chuckled then gasped. His free hand clutched at his side.

  "Damn ribs." He shook his head as he gathered up his crutches. "Damn leg too. Let’s go get cleaned up before we get yelled at."

  He smiled as the girl came out and waved at them urgently. "Come on!" The Admiral chuckled and followed.

  They came into the living room to see the girl setting the table. Junior came out of another room held up damp hands for his mother's approval then sat down at her nod. "Get cleaned up gentlemen," the matriarch ordered imperiously.

  Jorge chuckled. "In here." The Admiral waited as the injured man hobbled into the fresher and cleaned himself up. He watched casually as they set the table.

  "That your gear?" Junior asked pointing to the bags.

  "Yes." The Admiral nodded.

  "What did you bring? Besides uniforms," Junior smirked. The girl looked up then went back to setting the table.

  "Oh this and that, some tools, data base, skin suit, you know the usual gear." The Admiral smiled.

  Mrs. Valdez rapped Junior’s hand. "Ow! What was that for?" He rubbed his hand looking offended.

  "Mind your manners, he's a guest," she told him tartly. Jorge opened the door and the Admiral managed to get into the chamber before Junior could get himself into more trouble.

  The refresher was clean as usual. The fixtures were recycled, most likely from a freighter. The chrome was flaked off the plastic around the seams. "Mind the floor plate, it likes to fluctuate every hour or so!" Jorge called.

  He looked down. "Right." He shook his head at the wiring hanging from the ultrasonic emitters. "So much for the easy way." Carefully he washed his hands with the gray water, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

  "Nasty. You don't want to know what is in it Admiral," Sprite reported.

  "Yes I do, but not now." The Admiral replied as he shook his hands. He wiped them on a towel and exited the chamber.

  "All clean?" Mrs. Valdez inspected him just as she would one of her brood. The girl hid a smile. Jorge chuckled. "He didn't get a chance to get his hands dirty," he replied.

  The Admiral chuckled. "Yet."

  Mrs. Valdez steered him to an empty chair. Two other children came running in and sat down after having their hands checked. "Aunty is on shift working a double, she can't make it," one of the girls reported.

  An older man came in and hung his hat on a peg near the door. "I'm just in time?" he asked with a smile.

  "Hi uncle Mickal, nope, you’re just in time!" the pig tailed girl called with a smile.

  He chuckled. "All righty then, I'll just freshen up...” He waved to the others. After a few moments he returned. "I see we have a fresh face at the table." He smiled politely to the Admiral then held his hand over the table. The Admiral hastily set the bowl of lettuce down and shook his hand.

  "Nice to meet you; Mickal right?"

  The man nodded. "Mickal O'Reilly, last of the O'Reilly clan. I'm a life support engineer," he smiled.

  "Fleet Admiral John Irons," Irons returned. The man's eyes widened.

  "Is that a fact? We're dining with living legends now?" He looked over to Jorge who nodded.

  "The Admiral is a sleeper. Juanita's ship brought him in," Jorge explained with a small smile.

  He smiled to the Admiral as his wife placed veggies on his plate. "That's enough dear," he growled. She sniffed.

  "You know you need to set a good example for the kids," she said softly. The kids smirked. Mickal chuckled until she put even more on his plate.

  "Hey now!" He replied suddenly mock indignant. The kids giggled. Jorge smiled.

  "You need all the veggies you can get too!" Mama Valdez replied. "Clean your plate." She smiled. Her smile had teeth to it, the teeth of a command to be obeyed. Hastily he nodded.

  After dinner the kids were put to work cleaning the dishes while the adults sat around the table. He could see the kids glancing their way and paying more attention to what was going on with the adults then with the dishes. "You said the Io has been rebuilt?" Jorge sighed. "To see her in her prime. We need to get that tug sorted out so we can." He shook his head.

  "Not going to happen, it will take a month to get help from engineering Shelby said," Junior sighed.

  "She'll be long gone by then." O'Reilly grimaced.

  "Well, if you want a look..." The Admiral got up and went to his bags. "Do you have a picture now?" O'Reilly asked genially.

  The Admiral smiled. "Something like that." He pulled out his holographic emitter and set it on the table.

  "H
olo emitter?" Jorge asked. The Admiral nodded. The kids stopped cleaning and came up behind them. He smiled and turned it on. Sprite uploaded a 3D image of the Io 11. It sprang to life then began to slowly turn around her X and Y axis like a top. The kids oohed and ahed.

  "We had our hands full with the hull and exterior repairs; Juanita did an excellent job keeping her crew safe." The Admiral pointed out the damaged areas. "She's about as good as we can get outside a dry dock. Her drives have been fully restored and she can get into the low octaves of Gamma band now." The Admiral explained the highlights.

  The group watched and listened in fascination. He pulled up a holo of Juanita working. Mrs. Valdez clutched at her husband's arm. "Here is Juanita working with a crew. I have a few others including her doing the intro to EVA speech with a group of rookies." He smiled. "I can upload them to your home mainframe and you can watch them or dump them on a chip." He shrugged.

  Jorge nodded as the scene concluded and faded out. "Thank you for this, for seeing our girl safe and happy." He smiled. Mrs. Valdez looked up and nodded.

  "She's a good leader with a good head on her shoulders; you did an excellent job raising her," the Admiral smiled.

  "Junior why don't you show the Admiral around while we look over your sister's message." Jorge waved to Junior.

  O'Reilly smiled. "I'll be along in a minute lad. Admiral." He nodded as the two got up.

  The Admiral followed the sullen young man out. "You've seen the shuttle bay, this way to storage." He waved. They toured the storage bay, machine shops, the closed lock doors to two other shuttle bays, small living quarters and ended up in the giant junk yard room.

  "Wow." The Admiral looked around and smiled. He spotted several familiar ships. Sprite pointed a few details out. There were shelves around the perimeter of the room, but it looked like the center pile had taken over. He was curious if this was stuff they had traded for, or stuff they had gathered from outside. It was definitely a magpie nest.

  "I can't turn the lights on; we're in a severe power crunch right now." Junior said.

  "Yes, your mother mentioned it earlier I believe." The Admiral said as he examined a pile of parts. The junkyard was filled with damaged and junked gear, but it was organized. He studied a battered fighter. "She'll never fly again," Junior replied, catching his glance.

  "You never know." The Admiral shrugged. "You are working on the tug, is it the only one your family has?" He turned to the young man.

  Sergio nodded. "We have two other bays, but they are empty so I didn't bother show them to you."

  Irons nodded. "That's a lot of space for a small family." He followed the young man out into the hall.

  "Yeah, we supplied the station with most of the water it needs. And we have it because we can pay our rent. Most of the time," Junior growled face down, hands in his hip pockets. He kicked at a cable for a moment.

  The Admiral's mental antenna quivered at that last bit. "It has been hard to make ends meet with your dad injured," the Admiral observed. Junior growled. "His injuries are extensive. That arm is broken in two places and not healing correctly. His knee cap is broken. His internal injuries are not healing well either. He is running a temperature, a clear sign of infection," the Admiral observed.

  Junior stared at him. "How do you..."

  O'Reilly entered ducking through the lock door. "So what'd I miss gents?" He smiled at the two of them.

  The Admiral waved. "Just getting the lay of the land. Junior was showing me the family parts pile." Irons smiled and nodded politely to the young man.

  "Right he's interested in the old ships in there," Junior replied slowly trying to get his bearings.

  "I remember you playing in them a time or two," O'Reilly chuckled. "For that matter, your pops and I did too when we were hiding from grandam," he chuckled. Junior smiled. "She's a beaut isn't she? Pity she's only good for parts." O'Reilly shook his head sorrowfully.

  "Not necessarily. I can fix her," the Admiral replied.

  "You?" Junior goggled at him.

  "Sure, not a problem. It just takes time and effort." He smiled at the young man as Mickal rubbed his chin while looking him over.

  "That may be... that may be." He smiled. "Come on, it's time for desert." He slapped Junior on the shoulder. The young man winced.

  "We really should get back to the bay..." Mickal steered them into the living quarters.

  "Admiral, I have a proposal for you." Jorge was sitting in his chair at the head of the table. He nodded his head to a chair. "Sit, sit." The Admiral sat. "Our daughter told us about some of the things you did; she said you’re a miracle worker. Well, we need one here." Jorge sighed.

  "I understand things are tight with your injuries. It is hard to compensate when a family member is injured," the Admiral cautiously replied.

  Jorge nodded. Mrs. Valdez patted him on the shoulder. "I'd like your help with the tug. In exchange we'll give you room and board here," Jorge replied. Irons nodded. "Sounds good," he replied then thought it over for a moment. “I'll get the tug as close to factory new as I can, in exchange for the right to trade from your junk pile... and to pick a ship of my own from the junk pile.” He looked at Jorge.

  Jorge blinked. “Factory new?” He asked. “Not possible.” He replied with a disbelieving snort. He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “Never in a million years.” The Admiral smiled as he got up and went over to his bags. He rummaged around for a moment then pulled out a box and set it down on the table.

  “What's that?” Junior asked, just beating O'Reilly to the question. O'Reilly closed his mouth and shrugged.

  “Micro industrial replicator. With it, power, raw materials, and my implants I can replace a lot of parts on the ship,” the Admiral explained. The replicator expanded to quadruple its size.

  “But not anything larger than that,” Jorge pointed out. Irons smiled.

  “That is why I added the trade part. I may have to trade parts to rebuild the engine once I strip it down.” Jorge grunted and nodded wearily. Junior looked mulish.

  His mother rested her hand on his shoulder, then on his fathers. “Do it.” She nodded to him. “You can do this?”

  The Admiral smiled. “Yes ma'am. It may take a couple days. Stripping the engine down and going over her to find micro cracks will take the longest amount of time. A frame up restoration with factory new parts would make things go a lot faster though. Even without all new parts, with the right parts and the plans reassembly is a breeze.” He smiled to her encouragingly. She nodded as she looked at her husband.

  “All right, we'll give you your shot. I am not sure how we can rebuild it to factory trim though,” Jorge sighed.

  “Still, it would be nice,” his daughter replied. He smiled. The other kids were getting ready for bed. The matriarch kissed each on the forehead and then sent them to the nursery.

  “Do you want the one tug or do you want a second built?” the Admiral asked Jorge.

  The men looked startled. “Let's just go with the one now.” Jorge chuckled.

  “Okay, but one last thing. We trade with the ship for medical care. Your medical care. That part is non-negotiable.” The Admiral stared into Jorge's eyes. Jorge seemed to get angry, then his wife placed her hand on his arm and the fight oozed out of his eyes. “All right,” he replied gruffly.

  “This way you can also see your daughter.” The Admiral smiled to the matriarch. She smiled back. “I am certain the captain will negotiate in good faith, Juanita has been a hard worker.” He nodded to her parents. Jorge nodded.

  Junior looked confused. "Where is he going to sleep?" The parents gave him a look. He started to look mulish then relented when O'Reilly patted him on the shoulder. "Cheer up lad; it's not the end of the world." Junior sighed and tried not to glare at the Admiral.

  "It's your fault the tug is broken anyway I seem to recall," Jorge said lightly as he glanced at his son. The young man stiffened then sighed.

  "Yeah right." He shook his head. "I'll move
my things." He went off down the hall.

  "He's a good lad. Get the tug up and he'll come around. Eventually," O'Reilly said. Mrs. Valdez nodded.

  The Admiral followed O'Reilly back into the first shuttle chamber. The young girl was singing as she swept. She looked up with a guilty "Oh!" and flushed crimson.

  The Admiral smiled and looked at the craft. "She's been through quite a lot." He looked the small tug over.

  "Yeah, well, Junior has been adding his share of dings and dents. Every generation gets the chance it seems. Him more than most though," O'Reilly teased.

  "I heard that!" Junior called from the cockpit. Irons laughed.

  "Yeah, normal for any teen. Stretching their wings for the first time tends to get things knocked over, bent or broken... sometimes the person the wings are attached too as well." He smiled.

  O'Reilly chuckled. "Seems you know the feeling eh?"

  The Admiral smiled. "I could tell you stories that would burn my ears. If I was so inclined. But... we have a sick lady to fix." He indicated the tug. O'Reilly chuckled.

  He examined the exterior hull. She was battered; centuries of constant use had taken a toll. Most of her paint was gone, most likely ablated by the solar wind. Her hull was patched in various places. Her cab looked like a quilt; it was covered in patches of various sizes and metal types. From the look of some of them they were only tack welded on. He winced.

  The tug was massive, about the size of a large cargo shuttle with a small two seater closet like cab offset from the middle. Her main engine was torn apart. In front was a pair of bumpers, as well as what looked like industrial tractors. From the look of them they had been scavenged.

  On the right side was a series of spherical fuel and life support tanks. Nestled behind them near the center line was her micro reactor. OMS pods were attached on booms front, back and center. Landing skids held her up off the deck. From the look of one of the legs someone had tack welded it to keep it fused. Odd, it should have hydraulics to allow it to cushion its landings. He shook his head as he ran his hands along her flank.

  “She's not factory new, not by a long shot,” O'Reilly sighed softly.