Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer) (17 page)

“Thanks
Doc,” Irons said, smiling as Sprite disconnected the intercom. A few of the
people around looked relieved and began to smile. He looked around. “Don't
worry folks, he'll be climbing the walls and cussing you all out before you
know it.”

Harry
the assistant snorted. “And we'll all be suspects for this,” he grimaced and
waved his hands helplessly. “Okay folks, show's over, lets get to work before
the hairball does come back. Last thing we need is for him to find out we
slacked off and decide to tie us all in knots.”

“Yeah.
Think they could keep him longer? Just in case I mean,” someone muttered. Irons
shook his head.

“I'll
be going. Bailey wants me to work on your hyper drive. I'm going to see what
Sprite can tease out of my database on it's specs and see if maybe we can pull
a higher octave or beta band out of her.”

“Ah,”
the bald assistant Harry looked nonplussed for a moment and then nodded. “Good
idea. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out,” he said dismissing
the Admiral from his attention with a curt wave as he looked elsewhere.

Irons
snorted and shook his head as he walked off. Clearly the chimp had rubbed off
on his crew.

“Was
that a hint Admiral? About the hyper drive?” Sprite asked.

“What
do you think?” he asked.

“Great,”
she sighed.

Irons
paced back and forth in the control cabin of the launch. He didn't really have
the room for this, the cabin was only a few meters across to begin with. Throw
in things like seats for the pilots and the consoles and it got tight indeed.
He grimaced, trying to think but not getting anywhere. “You didn't get
anything? Nothing at all?”

“No
prints, no DNA. Whoever did this is good,” Sprite replied. She projected a holo
of herself sitting on the dashboard of the shuttle. “And by the way you're
wearing a path in the deck you're not happy about that.”

“You
know me so well,” Irons sighed, flopping down into the pilot's couch. “Did you
cross reference people who had access with those who could have put the cyanide
in the coffee dispenser?” The seat tried to conform to his shape but he was
restless. He kept shifting about.

“Yes.
I didn't get anywhere. No one was eliminated as a suspect. In fact I've added
four more. But that is only if you were the actual target. He did piss that
hacker kid off,” she pointed out.

Irons
scowled. He'd forgotten that. It could be a case of someone getting it right
after all. Or in this case damn near getting their target. If he was the
intended target. “And he's on your list?”

“Yes.
The steward has been cleared by the way. The security chief scanned him during
the interrogation.”

“And
you ran it?”

“Truth
across the board. I don't think he's going to be happy with you about being
accused though,” she grimaced. She knew it wouldn't be that easy. “It wasn't in
the dispenser. The security chief checked. There is residue in the cup of a
foreign substance. I'm betting someone used a self dissolving packet.”

“And
how did they get it into the right cups?”

Sprite
crossed and then uncrossed her hands. Her feet kicked together like an
adolescent on a swing. “For the chief it was obvious, his is marked chief in
gold lettering after all,” Sprite replied. He grimaced.

“Forgot
that,” he mumbled, toeing a divot in the deck. “But that still doesn't rule out
an attempt on me,” he sighed.

“Possibly.
Once, twice, three times enemy action. We do have a serious problem.”

“That
kid? If he's not a suspect then I don't have a problem with him,” Irons
grimaced. He wasn't sure how the kid could get the poison in the first place.
He knew that the replicators wouldn't make poison. Not on it's own anyway. Oh some
alien food was poisonous to others of course, but cyanide in a self dissolving
packet? Something most likely clear so it wouldn't be seen as a stain or as a
dirty cup? Sprite shook her head, legs tucked up.

“Its
not that you have a problem with him, its the other way around. You know, skip
it,” Sprite said, shaking her head. Her feet crossed then kicked together back
and forth. “Someone could have been after you though,” she said.

“I
thought you said the target may have not been me?” Irons sighed. “Make up my
mind Sprite.”

“I'm
just saying. You've been keeping a regular schedule, breakfast brunch meetings
every morning with the chief. And you know that's a big no no. Keeping a
regular schedule makes you an easier target.”

“Sprite
is correct Admiral,” Defender chimed in, right on time. Irons grimaced then
held up his hands.

“Point.
Valid one. I'll try to be more... um..”

“The
term you're looking for is erratic,” Sprite said smiling.

“Something
like that,” Irons said shaking his head. “Any ideas on what else they could
pull?”

“If
they are desperate, getting off at Agnosta it could be any number of things. It
all depends on their skills and how far they are willing to go to complete
their mission.”

“You
think it's a murderer for hire?” Irons asked surprised.

“Don't
you? Revenge is a possibility, but I eliminated the Neo cats as prime suspects
as soon as you had that last encounter with Hera. The injured one in sickbay.
She is more of a hands on person. Tooth and claw and all that.”

“You
are saying they lack the technical sophistication to pull this off?” Irons
asked.

“Yes.
Also the bathroom. There wasn't a single hair, nor a single DNA trace. I
suppose they could have done it in a suit to keep from shedding, but I  would
think someone would have noticed a cat running around in a skin suit.”

“Unless
they carried it with them, put it on outside his quarters then went in,”
Defender responded.

“You're
not helping...” Sprite sighed looking annoyed. “All right, I'll keep it in
mind.”

“You
mean I will. Security of the Admiral is my primary function,” Defender
responded. “I would like additional access to the systems of Destiny.”

“How..?
Sure fine. You want my suspect list as well?” Sprite said disgusted.

“I
already have it. And your reasoning tree. Which is sloppy. It relies to much on
human intuition and supposition and some of it has no basis in fact.”

“How
did you..?”

“We
share a data core remember? Everything you know I know Lieutenant Commander.
Everything,” Defender replied. “I am the security AI remember?”

“Oh,”
Sprite's avatar blinked then a bright line ran up and down her. “I'll keep that
in mind.”

“You
two are narrow minded you know that?” Irons asked. “And you apparently narrowed
it down to one suspect prematurely. We might be dealing with more than one.”

“You're
talking about a team of assassins?” Defender asked. “The possibility has
occurred to me.”

“Or
individuals working on their own without any coordination,” Irons said.

“Ew.
I don't like that. We could be getting false positives and going around in
circles,” Sprite said.

“Which
is a problem,” Irons grimaced, trying to think of something but not coming up
with much.

“Admiral,
I would normally recommend remaining in this launch since it is a secured
location. However it is far to easy for an assassin to vent the bay to
hyperspace. Or attach an explosive device to the hull of the launch.”

“Which
you would detect,” Irons replied. “And you'd see the person in the bay which
would reveal who it is,” he grimaced. He tried not to mention that someone
could use an innocent patsy as well. After all, they had done it before with
the steward. “I don't think they would be that stupid. But I'm not planning on
remaining here much longer,” He sighed.

“So
why are we here then?”

“Safe
place to think. No bugs. No chance of someone coming in and over hearing
something they shouldn't.”

“Ah,”
Sprite nodded. “And you avoid the party the engineering staff is throwing for
the return of the chief?”

“That
as well. I'm still something of a third wheel there. Out of sight out of mind.”

“Okay.”

Bailey
scowled as he turned the corner. He shifted his tool belt then squared his
shoulders as he hit the door controls. Doc had kept him over night in that damn
hospital bed. It had been a cold night. He'd wanted one of his gals with him
but Doc had kicked them out before he'd handed the keys over to that cheetah
lady.

At
least he'd finally gotten out of his clutches this morning. Clean bill of
health the doc had admitted. Now he had to go see what his people had done to
his pristine engineering. Probably mucked it up a lot knowing them. Hell they
probably tied all the wiring in knots! Or had a wild party while he was gone.
Yeah, that' s it, a party. He knew it. He'd tie Harry into a pretzel if they
had. No one was celebrating until he was safely dead damn it!

The
doors opened but he froze. The lights were out. Something was very wrong, the
lights in engineering dimmed during the night cycle but were never out
completely. “What the devil?” he said scowling as he shifted his belt, looking
inside. “Hello? Someone want to tell me what's going on? Did we forget to pay
the light bill or something?”

The
lights came up in a flash. He blinked, stepping back to see a bright welcome
home banner and the entire engineering staff standing around screaming welcome home.
He snorted.

“Gone
one day and I get this kind of response?” he said gruffly, touched. “I'm
touched really,” he said coming into the room. He pretended to wipe a tear form
his eye.

“Yeah,
touched in the head. We know boss,” Everette joked with a smile.

He
brandished a fist. The kid stepped back, hands up in mock fear. “Just for that
I'll make you eat my fist. And don't any of you have anything better to do?” he
asked as the big eared Everette hid behind a tech. The group shuffled around
while a few laughed at his expense.

“Not
that I'm not grateful or anything, but we do have a ship to run.”

“Which
can wait chief,” the captain said coming in behind him. “Sorry I'm late.” He
smiled as the crew came to attention. “Just be here a minute.” He nodded as he
rested an arm across the chimp's shoulders. “Your people did wonders. They did
everything scheduled for today last night to clear the time for this. Don't
ruin it for them banana breath.”

“Yeah,”
the chief said gruffly, looking around. “Yes sir,” he grimaced then nodded.
That did touch him. His crew was good. He had a good team and was proud of
them. Not that he was going to tell them that. They might get a swelled head or
something. Get cocky. “Thanks,” he said with a gruff nod.

“No
problem. It's not every day any of us have a close call like that. Hopefully it
will be the last for a long time. I'm too much of a realist to think it will be
the last,” he shook his head.

“Pessimist.”

“Comes
with the captain's chair,” the captain replied with a soft smile. He patted the
chimp's shoulder then nodded to the group. “All right folks, he's counseled so
he'll be on his best behavior or as close as the grump can get. Have a good
time. Don't drink and drive. You've done wonders for this ship. Keep up the
hard work. That's an order,” he smiled and waved as the group chuckled and
laughed.

The
captain waved and walked out as Bailey felt self conscious and rubbed the back
of his head. “Damn. One day you are all making me tear what little hair I've
got out, the next, this.” He shook his head.

“Just
buttering you up like you said chief. Wouldn't want to disappoint you,” his
assistant said laughing as he handed the chief a piece of cake.

Bailey
snorted, taking the cake. “Where's you know who?” he asked softly.

“No
idea. Most likely keeping a low profile,” the assistant said, turning and
speaking quietly. “I'm not complaining. I wish he was here though, he does
deserve some credit.”

“Yeah,”
Bailey shrugged. “I'll have to remember that.”

“Eeny
meeny pitsy teeny,” Irons said coming into the laundry room. Since the
engineers were in full party mode he had decided to get some long overdue
chores done. Which was about time, his uniforms were a bit ripe despite his
nanites best efforts.

He'd
absented himself for a strategic reason, the party was from the crew to their
chief. He would have been seen as a sort of wet blanket, an outsider. He'd
watched though though the video cameras. The captain's brief appearance had
been a cap on it.

Which
was interesting in a way. The captain had come in to voice his approval of the
party and dampen the chief's natural annoyance at being the center of
attention. He'd been diplomatic enough to stay just long enough and then left
gracefully to give them tacit leave to have a good time without him watching over
them. Good. The man had some skills there. All well and good.