The Space Spinster (on HOLD)

Log 16. The Tired Engineer Jones

Time Stamp: 16th of the 5th month, year 2696 CE, 07:12

Location Stamp: Venusian Departures, Space Port, in orbit of Planet Mars, Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy

***

The guy made me want to send him a following prescription:

One cold shower before bed, one bed early at night, one equally early rise with a stretch right after, a one-hour walk in the middle of waking hours. Don't pleasure-eat crap. And no more early afternoon fatigue, no more bags under the rheumy eyes, no more aching knees or strained neck.

Invigorated by fixing all his problems, even if it was just in my imagination, I jumped to my feet and retrieved Wasabi. "I am sorry he wandered away. He is usually a good boy."

"Your cat's spacesuit is very curious." The Tired Engineer helped himself to an empty chair. Collapsed into it, actually. "Who's made it?"

A spark in his sunken eyes testified that he hadn't given up on life completely. So, I didn't chase him away. "My mother works at the Defense Department. A certain government official doesn't travel without his pug, so they had to stitch something for their dog. Mom churned out a copy of it under the table."

The man turned around and announced to the rest of the lounge, "It's the Army, guys! Darla called it."

The money passed hands, while Lola giggled, her caterpillar segments jiggling from her chin to her belly, from her belly to her chin.

"Curious, very curious..." The Tired Engineer didn't move on, however. Instead he bowed his head to Lola. "Our fooling around here doesn't reflect our performance on-site, I assure you, Ma'am."

The mym's thirteen eyes opened wider than the gold-dotted saucer she had in her hand. "Don't worry, I'm traveling to Venus on a strictly personal matter, friend."

Lola might have called the Tired Engineer her 'friend', but there was a certain forcefulness in her voice. She was pushed down the bureaucratic ladder since forever and a day, sinking lower and lower, but perhaps the mym wanted it that way. Maybe she didn't like inspecting things and boss lesser sentients around? At any rate, the conversation annoyed her...and me, to be honest.

I plopped Wasabi into Lola's fuzzy lap. "So...do you only work on Venus or did you go places?"

"Oh, I've been around." He smiled elusively. "The company sends me wherever the fuck-up is the biggest."

"Boy, it sounds like we have the same job description!"

His gaze measured the breadth of my shoulders. "Is Mars finally sending someone to take care of the Ven Front?"

"No. I'm also traveling on personal business."

He shrugged. It was obvious that neither Lola nor I convinced him. A soldier and a mym traveling to Venus for pleasure? Nah...

"Well, regardless of your er...vacation plans, it's past time the government took action."

Ven Front was the new stain on the carpet for the politicians to cover up since the end of the war. It implied that the drones weren't a happy subhuman breed as pictured by the consortium. "Probably, though I had no idea it was that bad, Mr...?"

"Jones," the Tired Engineer supplied, "Jerry Jones."

We shook hands, including Lola, who looked super excited to be included.

"Nice to meet you, Jerry. The local perspective is always valuable for..." I waved my hand through the air indicating the secretive nature of my imaginary superiors who had send me on my imaginary mission. "...for general awareness. Do you think the Front is getting bolder?"

The Tired Engineer Jones chuckled, showing coffee-stained teeth. No wonder he was short on smiles before. "No shit. Ma'am, it used to be a few defective drones--"

"Defective? How so?"

"Some genetic deviations, the lack of diversity in the prototypes, things like that," Jones looked uncomfortable saying it. "It's not my field, Ma'am."

Ah, that's why he was shifting in his chair, because he was not a specialist and he still wanted to gossip. I gave him my widest smile. "I'm sure you know far more about it than I do!"

He shrugged, like okay, if you twist my arm into it... "From what I gather, they're bred to be dumb and content, but there's no guarantee. Genetic engineering is a bit of a misnomer, if you know what I mean, heh."

I nearly missed my cue to laugh, but I made up for it with the volume. I even pounded the tabletop with my fist. "You're such a kidder, Jones!"

"I try." Jones snorted into his beer. "The defective ones, they would leave the assigned workplaces, find a hidey-hole, steal food, things like that. The security would track them down, reassign... and that would be the end of it."

"But it changed?"

"Yeah. The fuckers are organizing, even turning to sabotage. My boots have more gray matter than a lot of them, so the damage has been contained so far, but if they figure out which valve to turn off, or even do it by accident--" Jones looked at me sorrowfully, and slipped the rib of his hand across his throat, in a universal sign of end of life as we know it. Or, in this case, Venus.

"You say they're dumb." I sucked my teeth. "Have you ever heard of Mikado?"

The man rolled his eyes within the dark pits of his eye sockets. "Ye gods, have I heard of Mikado! Everyone who has a degree in anything has heard of Mikado." He downed his beer with more disgruntled noises. "Mikado... fuck Mikado!"

Well, at least we felt the same way about Mikado. That's said, Dr. Russ on the Solar Wind had not heard of Mikado. But maybe he lied. "Everyone, you say?"

"Everyone on Venus," Jones amended. "You know why? Because Mikado never shuts up about Mikado. They should have lobotomized him, and sent him right back to Venus the moment he'd tumbled out of that freighter."

"I've never heard about the freighter." Not going to lie, I was intrigued. "What freighter?"

"Lucky you!" Jones stared into his beer for a long time. "A fucking ore freighter, that's what freighter. The one he snuck abroad of."