OUT OF SIGHT, OUT OF...

By Mr. David R. Dorrycott

The figure worked carefully at the base of a huge dish antenna. Space was unforgiving and even after several hours of hull repair there could be sharp edges, remainders of the Furtec attack that had knocked out the ships long range communications.

<POP> "Artie."

"Yes Kiko."

<Pop> "I'm getting a slight negative reading on number seven Iconic tri-phase pulse exchanger. All others have been Positive."

"That is the problem system then" the AI replied. "I will transfer a replacement to airlock two, it is closest too you."

<Pop> "All-right" the mousemorph mechanic answered. "Kill the antenna's power and I'll bring this one back with me. It'll be faster."

An indicator lamp dimmed suddenly, informing the woman it was safe to physically touch the device she was working on. Releasing quick-snaps it was in her arms half a minute later. Turning, she kicked off the ships hull, drifting away and slightly down. A puff of suit jets and she was headed for the now open airlock.

<Pop> "Artie, have Felix and his guest finished yet?"

"Not yet, shall I patch you in?"

<Pop> "No" she decided, "It's none of my business. I'm temporary supercargo remember? Not signed crew, I need to keep my nose out of his business."

Drifting close to the airlock she tapped the suitjets, their imperceptible thrust sending her into the small chamber. Reaching into a storage net she withdrew the replacement unit, then shoved the damaged one into the net.

<Pop> "Put it in the shop" she ordered. "I'll fix it later."

Artie almost sighed. "Kiko" it said, "These things are not repairable. It is why we carry so many spares."

<Pop> "I'll consider it a challenge then" she answered. "I've never seen anything like these, and I'll bet they don't exist in this Galaxy."

"A point to remember" Artie agreed. "That we have only what we brought along."

Thinking back to the ill-fated BOB BARKER the woman nodded to herself. Grabbing a handhold she locked herself back in next to the damaged antenna.

<Pop> "Some things I'll be able to convert, but a lot of this stuff isn't even in the fantasy books. Like that 'flashlight' Felix carries, much less off the shelf." Sliding the new unit in she started attaching leads. <Pop> "You'd need a ship as large as the BARKER to carry enough spare parts."

"Like your suit radio switch?" Artie asked.

<Pop> "No" the mechanic giggled. "I'll fix it tonight, is the spark giving you problems?"

"A little headache" the AI replied. "Nothing I can't live with for now."

Drifting back a few meters Kiko studied her readouts. <Pop> "Give her a try" she called.

Lines moved across her readouts, a small lamp flickered from red, to amber to green. <Pop> "Looks like that's was it. Kill the power and I'll finish the checks, then lock up."

"Logging repair" Artie answered. "Oh Kiko?"

<Pop> What now?" she asked, expecting to hear something planet-shattering, like the bread toaster had just tried to eat Felix's visitor.

"I was wondering." Artie continued. "Considering you files and your obvious experience, your abilities. Why did you take a position on that wreak?"

Kiko paused, looking back towards where the BOB BARKER's death flare could still be read by her instruments, then towards the blue-green planet she had abandoned so short a time ago.

<Pop> "Well Artie" she answered. "At the time the price was right."