Homebrew - a NaNoWriMo Novel - Day 7

Here's Wednesday's snippet. Didn't quite make the projected daily quota, but I did reach 15,158 words. That still put me two days ahead of what NaNo calls for. I'm going to be busy as I want to reach 17,500 words or higher today. And then go over the top to 20K by tomorrow.

"Oh my God!" Dermot's eyes grew huge. "He didn't, like, start bulging out the way they did in Total Recall, did he?"
"That is just SICK! He was on the floor right in front of me! I couldn't help seeing him, lying there, trying to suck in air that wasn't there!" Ellen screamed as them. "Oh my God. He almost died. And I didn't do anything; I just sat there..."
"Elle," Dora said, "you're being too hard on yourself. What could you have done to help him? J'Shawn just told us he ripped his faceplate off, completely. Did you have a spare helmet? Did you have a sheet of plastic? Did you have the controls to shut down the machine and bring the air back in?" With each question, Ellen shook her head, the first time barely noticeable, but stronger with each response. "Then given the training we've had and the resources at hand, what could you have done? What could any of us have done?"
"But I felt so helpless. I know I couldn't do anything, but that doesn't make me feel any better. Maybe I'm not cut out for this."
"Maybe you're not," Dermot said. "Maybe none of us are. Still, I think coming to that conclusion right now, when we haven't had time to deal with the shock, when we don't know if he'll be all right or if we're imagining the worst, that's not the best time to make a decision."
"He's right, girlfriend. You've invested too much effort and too much time in this to make a snap decision. So have Dora, Sean, and myself. The best thing we can do is go do something fun. I think we should watch a movie, eat some popcorn and when we're good and tired, get some rest. They're going to want to discuss this tomorrow, and I'll bet they even offer counseling for those who want it."
"You know, that's a good idea. I could stand a good comedy right now." Ellen stood. "Thanks, guys. I don't know what I'll decide, but I'm not going to sit here and mope around feeling sorry for myself. C'mon, let's find that movie."

* * *

"Everyone here knows something of what happened yesterday." the group's instructor said. "However, no one has quite the complete picture. In order to fight rumors and exaggerations, we've made available a transcript of the event in each person's e-mailbox. You may read through it after this session. Even so, we felt we should pass along the news that the trainee involved, a Joseph O. Buckley, is making a full recovery and is adamant he wishes to remain in training. Assuming he can pass the psychologist's examination and he get's a clean upcheck from the doctors, he will be resuming training tomorrow."
"You mean he wasn't kicked out?" asked one of the women from the second group. "I would have thought doing something that dumb qualifies for being kicked out."
"No, at this point in your schedule, we've invested too much time and resources to waste someone without strong evidence of mental instability or physical problems." The instructor paused and made eye contact with every member of both groups. "I want to stress that you can choose to quit the program at any time prior to completion of your training, without incurring any commitment to the project. Once you've completed this educational process, you will, of course, as it was explained to you before it began, owe us at least one year of basic service, most likely in groundside support. Each additional level of training incurs yet another year of service, but those positions will probably be in orbit. If you have any doubts as to whether you want to work in space, now is the time to exit the program."
Dora, Dermot and J'Shawn glanced at Ellen. While she had remained silent during the lecture, she met their questioning looks with a calm face. She shook her head and turned back to the front.
"All right. We're through here, you can proceed to your next class."
With that, the groups began filtering out. Ellen folded her notebook and headed out the door ahead of her friends.
"Ellen!" J'Shawn called, "Wait up, girl!" He and the others rushed to catch up with her.
"What? Why are you guys dawdling? If we don't hurry, we'll be late for the next session," she responded. Then she recognized the question in their eyes. "I'm not dropping out. I thought about it last night and I realized something. I want to go into space. I've always wanted to go into space. I've known for years that doing so could be dangerous. Okay, so what happened yesterday wasn't pretty. Frankly, it scared me. But I got over letting my fear control what I do." Drawing closer to them, she began to poke her finger into each of their chests. "You. Don't. Get. Rid. Of. Me. That. Easy."
"Thank goodness." Dermot replied. "I was beginning to think it was my breath."
"Nope. It's my rugged good looks. I told you she likes her men with muscle." J'Shawn flexed his left arm, rippling the biceps and the tribal tattoo on it.
"Get real! I'm the one who likes bulgy, mindless mucle-bound, steroid-pumping freaks. Elle prefers pale, geeky types with thick glasses like Sean won't admit to wearing."

* * *

"So," Dermot asked as they left their last class, "are we a team? I mean, according to every one of our instructors, we are almost through the basic training program. And if they're telling us truth, they're encouraging teams to form."
"I was wondering about that myself. I mean, you and J'Shawn are big and strong enough, but Dora and I are small and flexible. That means we can maneuver around better. Plus, we can do finer work with our hands." Ellen waved her fingers in a complex arpeggio. "A definite plus when trying to fish out a nut or washer lost by those hams you guys call hands."
"Speak for Sean, my hands are virtuoso instruments, of work and of loooove."
"Yeah right! Elle," Dora replied, "back me up here, wasn't J'Shawn the one who dropped a milk-carton just walking to the table last week?"
"All right. All right." Dermot sighed in embarrassment as they entered the cafeteria. "Maybe we are giant hulks, but the question still remains on the table."
"Ah don't see no question. Not on any of the tables. All Ah see are mounds of Mystery Meat with heapin' helpin's of Mom's Home Slop! Ah done told y'all we shoulda made a break for some soul food. A brother cain't help but starve to death on this... whatever it is. It ain't food, that's for sure."
"Give us girls a break. If we ate even one soul food meal a week, they'd kick us out for terminal butt-itis!"
"That's fine by me. Sean might like 'em skinny, but I looooove meat on a girl."
"Just answer my question and stop pestering the ladies."
"How come Sean calls us ladies and you call us girls? Aren't we ladies to you?"
"Yeah, you corner him, Dora. I'll help. Us 'ladies' have to stick together."
"First, both of you know you are special ladies to me." J'Shawn swept into a low bow and waved them forward to the line. "Second, to answer the question, I'm for it. I believe we'll make a good team. If you two fine women agree, I'm signing on."
The two women looked at each other. Ellen nodded.
"Elle agrees. You, Sean, her and I are a team."
"Now, you feed them, Sean."
They all laughed and proceeded to take their meals.