Free Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) by Chris Hechtl Page B

arm.
    “I'm
sorry about your losing your shift mate, I didn't have a choice. Orders on high
said to cut power.” He toweled his hands and shook his head.
    Anita
stared at her son. “You were fired?” she asked stunned.
    “No
laid off,” O'Reilly answered. “His whole shift was.” He sighed as he tossed the
towel back into the refresher then took his seat. He pulled his wife over and
gave her a kiss. She smiled at him.
    “So,
what did I miss?” O'Reilly asked. Junior started to talk with his mouthful
eliciting a laugh from his aunt and giggle from the kids.
    “We've
got all the parts, and last I heard Jorge was in surgery,” the Admiral replied
then dug in. The spaghetti was good, meatless, but it made up for that with
peppers. The bread was a bit pasty, but not bad.
    “So
you've got all the parts? How soon can you get the old girl back together?”
O'Reilly asked. “Enrique can't hold off the Port Admiral forever you know. I
heard about the bully boys.” He nodded to Junior. “I tried to call and warn
you, but no one was home,” he sighed shaking his head.
    “Stupid.
Their leaning on the one group who are trying to keep them supplied with fuel.”
He grimaced. The Admiral looked up with interest.
    “You
mean there isn't any trade at all?” He looked over to the aunt who shook her
head. O'Reilly dug into his dinner.
    “Not
since the Port Admiral, sorry,” she flushed as she noted her own sarcastic tone
and tried to correct it. “Not since he put an import tariff on the other
colonies.” Junior nodded.
    “We've
been the only one supplying the station with water for the past ten years.”
Junior said with pride.
    O'Reilly
nodded. “That's right mate, but word is, we're down to scraping the bottom of
the barrel. Their cutting off the water to the lower ninety decks tonight.” He
waved to the tap. Anita and the aunt looked alarmed.
    “No
more washing. Water is for drinking only, and only a little per day. Rationing
is in effect. They need every ounce. Even then it isn't enough. The reactor is
breaking down.” O'Reilly shook his head. The Admiral finished his dinner and
set his fork down. “I hope you can pull off a miracle Admiral,” O'Reilly said,
watching him get up.
    The
Admiral went over to the cupboard, pulled out a cup, and then put it in the
replicator. “Coffee hot, black.” He stared at the replicator. He figured he'd
better get it while he can.
    “Ain't
going to happen ma...” O'Reilly started, then stopped and stared as the
replicator's pad glowed to life and fluid could be heard burbling into the cup.
    “Close
your mouth; it's not a docking hangar,” his wife teased him. He closed it with
a clop. The kids were staring as well.
    Anita
shook her head in wonder. “How?” she asked as she took his dirty plate to the
sink.
    “Simple
engineering. Junior lent me a hand. I'll see if I can get the ultrasonics in
the dishwasher and refresher fixed as well so they can be used instead of
water.” He waved to the sink area. Anita nodded mutely.
    Several
of the kids got up to examine the replicator, but the adults called them back
to their seats to finish their meal. “No dessert without finishing your plate
kids,” Iron's teased. They looked at him surprised. He smiled conspiratorially
to them. They looked at each other then dug in with a will.
    “Code
eight baker is the key code. Type in ice cream and choose a flavor. Make sure
you put a dish in beforehand,” he said softly to Anita. She nodded. He nodded
to Junior and O'Reilly as he exited. Junior was hastily getting up but his aunt
firmly pulled him back down to his seat.
     
    Twenty
minutes later the men folk and aunt joined him in the hangar. The pig tailed
girl followed a few minutes later, licking a spoon with gusto. He chuckled as
she pocketed it.
    “I
finished rebuilding the reactor and plasma drive, The Io sent over the
inertials and antigrav plates but they, like the reactor and drive will have to
be tuned.” He waved. “Of