Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the Admiral reported, looking out at
Jorge and Junior. Jorge was glaring at his son. Junior was looking anywhere but
at his father. The Admiral tried not to laugh or sigh.
    “Boys
will be boys I suppose. Idiots ruled by their hormones till they LEARN TO GROW
UP,” Jorge growled, holding his glare before returning his gaze to the Admiral.
He chuckled.
    “That
they will sir, in any time period.” The Admiral smiled wearily.
    “I've
backed up what I can and wiped the software suite, it's a total write off
Admiral. I am rebooting from the firmware now. Some of the drivers are
conflicting. Admiral, half the electronics are non functional. We need a full
rebuild to sort this out properly,” Sprite reported. He nodded.
    “The
software has been dumped and I am reloading the drivers now, but the ones that
work conflict with one another. We need to do a complete rebuild to get it
right,” the Admiral reported.
    “How
long?” Jorge replied, wary. “We need to get back into space before the rent
comes due.” He sighed.
    The
Admiral nodded. “I will see what I can do.”
    “List
all electronics detected, flag the ones in need of replacement. We'll replicate
those while we can,” he said softly to Proteus.
    “Noted
Admiral.”
    “Shall
we begin interior repairs?” the AI asked.
    “No.”
He checked the flight logs Sprite had salvaged. “Someone hard wired the engine
for afterburner. The coolant system is toast,” he reported. Jorge groaned.
    The
Admiral looked out again. The wounded man was trying to write with an
electronic pad. “I knew you did something stupid. Damn it! Why the hell
couldn't you listen?!” the patriarch snarled sounding despondent. The Admiral
un-jacked and climbed out of the cab making Jorge break off his rant.
    Irons
checked the engine over, watching as Sprite and Proteus logged items to repair
or replace. He softly mentioned a few parts as well. The thruster was mangled,
it had been thoroughly patched, but the constant overload of the afterburner
had cooked the ceramic coating off and worn down the rim. It looked like something
had chewed on it. Plasma exhaust had a tendency of doing that when the
electromagnetic superconducting shields were out.
    Jorge
was still trying to keep his cool. The teenager had given up being defiant and
assumed a submissive but resentful pose. The Admiral shook his head.
    “Well,
she's definitely beat up pretty bad. We're looking at a lot of repairs. Almost
a complete rebuild from the frame up.” He shook his head. “I've got a partial
list to go off of, I'm cross checking it with the list of materials from the
junk pile...” He trailed off as Sprite took the hint and did the cross check.
She flashed a dozen items onto his HUD. “And it looks like eleven; no twelve
items may be compatible. Most are minor, broken valves, hoses, cracked spar,
shorted breakers... still twelve is okay out of a list of...” Junior looked up
with hope in his eyes. “Out of over three hundred and thirty one. It is sure to
go up from there. The plasma field injectors will need a rebuild, and if the
firing chamber is breached...” The Admiral finished with a shrug. The boy was
crestfallen again.
     “Mama
said to remind you breakfast is almost ready!” the pig tailed girl called from
the door. Jorge waved his crutch and she ran off.
    “I
can get my replicator working on some of the electronics while we eat,” Irons
waved to Jorge. Jorge nodded. Irons climbed back into the cab and with
practiced efficiency his implants tore out most of the broken or damaged flight
controls. He handed them down to a dumb struck Junior.
    “You’re
going to remake them?” The young man asked. “Like new?” He looked at one.
“What's wrong with this one?” He turned it over and over.
    “Firmware
was corrupted by the rabbit virus. It needs a new chip and some minor repairs
to its UART optical jack,” the Admiral replied as he pulled the last board.
    “Okay
that's it, let’s