Homebrew - a NaNoWriMo Novel - Day 9
I skipped a day. Yep. I felt comfortable enough with my word count to 'miss' a day. However, I am back at it and have managed to get to 16,991 words.
Here you go:
Working for a Living
Don’t go around saying that the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.
-Mark Twain
November 13, 2011
"Listen up, Peas!" the copilot's voice boomed out of their helmet speakers, overriding private-channel conversations. The passengers all felt their bodies drift slightly away from the acceleration seats, snugging against the restraint webbing that secured each into place. "We're almost docked with the Hub so the Cap'n and I will soon be rid of your stink. But before you go, I've got a few items to bring up."
"First, some of you, and you all know who you are, forgot to mention to me that you were weak-livered pukers and you didn't get the dramamine pills we asked you to take. The Cap'n runs a tight, CLEAN ship. That means before you get to leave our comfy tour bus, you get to clean up the mess you made. I'm going to make it easy for you and hand out hand-vacs. And, I will be flushing the cabin to hard vacuum when you're done to suck out any remaining bits. Of course, if I do so and you haven't secured your helmets and sealed your faceplates, some of you might experience shortness of breath - that means YOU, Tyler! Get yourself sealed in! Singhman, help your teammate!"
Startled, Mohinder Singhman turned to his right and slammed Jessica Tyler's faceplate shut as he shouted, "Yes, Ma'am! Tyler is sealed in, Ma'am!"
"In case you haven't been told this yet, Singhman, this isn't the military and I'm not your mother. So can the Ma'am. Copilot or Wei will do." A deep, yet soft clang rumbled through the craft. "And... we're docked. Jorgensen, Militas, Ngu, Hartman, you all entertained us with your post-prandial display of projectile vomiting. Now it's your turn to display your skills at wielding hand-held appliances. Unstrap and come up to the front bulkhead. You'll find the dirtbusters clipped inside the two compartments with the blue triangles on the doors. The rest of you Peas stay webbed in."
"Copilot?" Dora asked over the public circuit, "Why do you keep calling us 'Peas'?"
"Because until you new people get used to working up here," the pilot, Captain Johannes Seitzer, replied to her query, "that's all you are, freeze-dried peas waiting to be packaged up and shipped home. Probationers who haven't learned the difference between training and real life in space. There are countless ways to lose air and get yourself freeze-dried, so don't go strutting around as if you know it all. If your supervisor or a co-worker with more time in orbit tells you to do something in a manner not authorized in the manuals, chances are very good that it's working it's way through the change process for the next manuals update."
"Also, every time you screw up, you increase the chance we'll be hauling you home all wrapped up in a body bag. We're hauling two down on this trip, and we don't like hauling bags of freeze-dried Peas. So don't screw up!" Wei added.
The four workers who'd been assigned cleanup duty had stopped performing their task, listening along with the others to the lecture. Worried expressions showed on most of the faces, including Ellen's and Dermot's. The rest managed to keep a solemn yet serene look.
"Didn't Wei tell you to clean up?" Seitzer reminded the four. "What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation? We don't unload until you're done."
The whine of motors resumed as the perpetrators finished cleaning up the residue of their food disaster. Most had already been caught up into barf bags by the other passengers, who did so in self defense, not wanting to spend the remainder of the voyage covered in the slimy, stinking mixture. Those who held the bags handed them over to the four as they floated back up the aisle upon completing the job. As the dejected victims of the punishment detail approached the front bulkhead, the hatch leading to the command deck opened, letting Captain Seitzer and Pilot Wei enter the main cabin. Seitzer pointed to a panel on the port side of the bulkhead.
"All of you Peas, listen up." he commanded. "Any panel marked with this red trefoil design is an access point for bio-hazardous waste disposal." He paused, watching the four. "Well, go ahead, dump your trash. You're holding us up." At his urging, they pulled forward and unloaded their 'cargo' into the receptacle. Then they waited for him to continue.
"My goodness, the people they let through training these days," he said to his copilot. Then he snapped, "Do you have to be told what to do next? Put the dirtbusters away and strap in again!"
The four complied, every move screaming they had been cowed by the lesson. The rest of the group's snickers echoed over the public channel. Finally, when all the passengers were again secured, Wei reached out and keyed a code into the keypad set in the bulkhead.
As the atmosphere screamed out of the craft, Seitzer said, "I'm telling you, Sarah, the recruits get dumber and dumber with every load."
"It's not that bad, Sir. They managed to not kill each other."
"So true, but not for want of trying, I think. Not for want of trying." By then the cabin was depressurized. "Pay attention, Peas. What little remains of our four adventurers meals has now been, for the most part, sucked out into the void. The miniscule remainder is stuck to a few of you. It will remain there until you clean it off. We're not going to bother with that right now. It can wait until you get on-station. The main reason is I'm tired of waiting for you to get your act together. However, doing so would require me to re-pressurize the ship. That would be a waste of time and atmosphere."
"Instead, you are going to form two squads and file out of my ship and onto the station. By this time, a station worker has attached a pull line next to the exit hatch and you will practice your skills at transhipment."
"Dora Rodriguez!" Wei barked. "You and Ellen Connoly will be squad leaders. Everyone count off by ones and twos. Dora, you will be leader of squad one. Ellen, you will lead squad two. Count off!" She motioned the two women out of their seats and to her. Over a private channel, she said, "It will be easy, but neither of you have done this before, so pay attention. Rodriguez, you'll go first. Take station at the exit hatch and I'll have your squad line up behind you. When the hatch opens, you are to stand in the opening and grab the line the station worker gives you. There's a clip on the end, attach it to your suit. He will then hand you a second line which you will clip to the striped red-and-white attachment point on the inside of the hatch frame. He will then pull you out of the way. You will count off each person coming out of the ship, using channel 5, that's the one used by the other station worker manning the module hatch. We won't send out another person until that worker reports the current person has arrived by repeating your count back to you. You will then verify by saying 'next person'. Got all that? Repeat it back to me."
"Go to the hatch, hook the first line to my suit, hook the second line to the attachment point on the hatch frame, let myself be pulled outside, count my squadmate coming out of the ship, when the station counts that person has arrived, say 'next person', repeat until done." Dora rushed to get out. "I think I've got it."
"And you, Connoly?"
"Hatch, hook my suit, hook hatch, count, wait for repeat of count, say 'next person'." Ellen replied, sounding a bit nervous.
"Connoly, I want you to stand on the other side of the hatch and watch how it goes." Wei decided. "Can you do that?"
Ellen took a deep breath. "Yes. I can do that, Copilot"
"Relax, Pea. We've been doing this for some time and haven't lost a Pea yet. Okay you two, move to the hatch." Wei switched to the public circuit. "All right, you Peas, listen to me. Everyone who is in squad one, unweb, stand up and file to the hatch behind Rodriguez, who's on the left of the hatch. The rest of you, stay webbed in."
The opening of the hatch loomed ahead of Dora, and it had the appearance of a black hole in the cabin wall from the angle she could see. The filter on her helmet reduced glare to the point where, she knew from the experience of the one suborbital trip they had all taken, most stars could not be seen. Surprising her, a line drifted in just as a man's voice said, "Head's up!" She grabbed for the line and missed it, but Ellen snagged it for her. As soon as she had it clipped on, she gave it a sharp tug, as they had taught her to do back on Earth. This time she saw the line coming and was not caught off guard by the same voice saying, "Second line." As soon as she had it firmly hooked to the hatch frame, she felt herself being pulled outside.
Once out of the ship, she could see the station looming over her, or was she stranded high above it, about to fall. For a moment, her mind couldn't decide. Then an instructor's voice called from her memory, 'If you start to feel disoriented, find a horizon line. Fix on that horizon line and ignore all else until you get settled'.
"Find a horizon. Find a horizon. Find a horizon." she repeated as she sought out the length of the ship.
"All right, already." the man broke into her concentration. "Find the damned horizon and let's get on with this. Management hates paying me overtime."
Dora flushed with embarrassment. Once again she was glad no one could see her face behind the glare shield. She calmed herself before responding, "I'm okay. Send out the next person."
As that person came into view, a safety line hooked onto the suit and looped over the cable running between the ship and the station, she said, "One". After what seemed to her to be an eternity, she heard 'One' repeated by a woman's voice. She then said, "Next Person," followed by "Two" as another suit drifted into view on it's journey to the station.
Just as it became routine, the man floating next to her tapped her shoulder and said, "You're all done." He pointed to her line which he'd clipped to the cable. "Go ahead and pull yourself across. I've got to herd the next group."
"Okay." Turning, she said, "Twenty-five, heading across," and grasping the cable, she pulled herself along.
Here you go:
Working for a Living
Don’t go around saying that the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.
-Mark Twain
November 13, 2011
"Listen up, Peas!" the copilot's voice boomed out of their helmet speakers, overriding private-channel conversations. The passengers all felt their bodies drift slightly away from the acceleration seats, snugging against the restraint webbing that secured each into place. "We're almost docked with the Hub so the Cap'n and I will soon be rid of your stink. But before you go, I've got a few items to bring up."
"First, some of you, and you all know who you are, forgot to mention to me that you were weak-livered pukers and you didn't get the dramamine pills we asked you to take. The Cap'n runs a tight, CLEAN ship. That means before you get to leave our comfy tour bus, you get to clean up the mess you made. I'm going to make it easy for you and hand out hand-vacs. And, I will be flushing the cabin to hard vacuum when you're done to suck out any remaining bits. Of course, if I do so and you haven't secured your helmets and sealed your faceplates, some of you might experience shortness of breath - that means YOU, Tyler! Get yourself sealed in! Singhman, help your teammate!"
Startled, Mohinder Singhman turned to his right and slammed Jessica Tyler's faceplate shut as he shouted, "Yes, Ma'am! Tyler is sealed in, Ma'am!"
"In case you haven't been told this yet, Singhman, this isn't the military and I'm not your mother. So can the Ma'am. Copilot or Wei will do." A deep, yet soft clang rumbled through the craft. "And... we're docked. Jorgensen, Militas, Ngu, Hartman, you all entertained us with your post-prandial display of projectile vomiting. Now it's your turn to display your skills at wielding hand-held appliances. Unstrap and come up to the front bulkhead. You'll find the dirtbusters clipped inside the two compartments with the blue triangles on the doors. The rest of you Peas stay webbed in."
"Copilot?" Dora asked over the public circuit, "Why do you keep calling us 'Peas'?"
"Because until you new people get used to working up here," the pilot, Captain Johannes Seitzer, replied to her query, "that's all you are, freeze-dried peas waiting to be packaged up and shipped home. Probationers who haven't learned the difference between training and real life in space. There are countless ways to lose air and get yourself freeze-dried, so don't go strutting around as if you know it all. If your supervisor or a co-worker with more time in orbit tells you to do something in a manner not authorized in the manuals, chances are very good that it's working it's way through the change process for the next manuals update."
"Also, every time you screw up, you increase the chance we'll be hauling you home all wrapped up in a body bag. We're hauling two down on this trip, and we don't like hauling bags of freeze-dried Peas. So don't screw up!" Wei added.
The four workers who'd been assigned cleanup duty had stopped performing their task, listening along with the others to the lecture. Worried expressions showed on most of the faces, including Ellen's and Dermot's. The rest managed to keep a solemn yet serene look.
"Didn't Wei tell you to clean up?" Seitzer reminded the four. "What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation? We don't unload until you're done."
The whine of motors resumed as the perpetrators finished cleaning up the residue of their food disaster. Most had already been caught up into barf bags by the other passengers, who did so in self defense, not wanting to spend the remainder of the voyage covered in the slimy, stinking mixture. Those who held the bags handed them over to the four as they floated back up the aisle upon completing the job. As the dejected victims of the punishment detail approached the front bulkhead, the hatch leading to the command deck opened, letting Captain Seitzer and Pilot Wei enter the main cabin. Seitzer pointed to a panel on the port side of the bulkhead.
"All of you Peas, listen up." he commanded. "Any panel marked with this red trefoil design is an access point for bio-hazardous waste disposal." He paused, watching the four. "Well, go ahead, dump your trash. You're holding us up." At his urging, they pulled forward and unloaded their 'cargo' into the receptacle. Then they waited for him to continue.
"My goodness, the people they let through training these days," he said to his copilot. Then he snapped, "Do you have to be told what to do next? Put the dirtbusters away and strap in again!"
The four complied, every move screaming they had been cowed by the lesson. The rest of the group's snickers echoed over the public channel. Finally, when all the passengers were again secured, Wei reached out and keyed a code into the keypad set in the bulkhead.
As the atmosphere screamed out of the craft, Seitzer said, "I'm telling you, Sarah, the recruits get dumber and dumber with every load."
"It's not that bad, Sir. They managed to not kill each other."
"So true, but not for want of trying, I think. Not for want of trying." By then the cabin was depressurized. "Pay attention, Peas. What little remains of our four adventurers meals has now been, for the most part, sucked out into the void. The miniscule remainder is stuck to a few of you. It will remain there until you clean it off. We're not going to bother with that right now. It can wait until you get on-station. The main reason is I'm tired of waiting for you to get your act together. However, doing so would require me to re-pressurize the ship. That would be a waste of time and atmosphere."
"Instead, you are going to form two squads and file out of my ship and onto the station. By this time, a station worker has attached a pull line next to the exit hatch and you will practice your skills at transhipment."
"Dora Rodriguez!" Wei barked. "You and Ellen Connoly will be squad leaders. Everyone count off by ones and twos. Dora, you will be leader of squad one. Ellen, you will lead squad two. Count off!" She motioned the two women out of their seats and to her. Over a private channel, she said, "It will be easy, but neither of you have done this before, so pay attention. Rodriguez, you'll go first. Take station at the exit hatch and I'll have your squad line up behind you. When the hatch opens, you are to stand in the opening and grab the line the station worker gives you. There's a clip on the end, attach it to your suit. He will then hand you a second line which you will clip to the striped red-and-white attachment point on the inside of the hatch frame. He will then pull you out of the way. You will count off each person coming out of the ship, using channel 5, that's the one used by the other station worker manning the module hatch. We won't send out another person until that worker reports the current person has arrived by repeating your count back to you. You will then verify by saying 'next person'. Got all that? Repeat it back to me."
"Go to the hatch, hook the first line to my suit, hook the second line to the attachment point on the hatch frame, let myself be pulled outside, count my squadmate coming out of the ship, when the station counts that person has arrived, say 'next person', repeat until done." Dora rushed to get out. "I think I've got it."
"And you, Connoly?"
"Hatch, hook my suit, hook hatch, count, wait for repeat of count, say 'next person'." Ellen replied, sounding a bit nervous.
"Connoly, I want you to stand on the other side of the hatch and watch how it goes." Wei decided. "Can you do that?"
Ellen took a deep breath. "Yes. I can do that, Copilot"
"Relax, Pea. We've been doing this for some time and haven't lost a Pea yet. Okay you two, move to the hatch." Wei switched to the public circuit. "All right, you Peas, listen to me. Everyone who is in squad one, unweb, stand up and file to the hatch behind Rodriguez, who's on the left of the hatch. The rest of you, stay webbed in."
The opening of the hatch loomed ahead of Dora, and it had the appearance of a black hole in the cabin wall from the angle she could see. The filter on her helmet reduced glare to the point where, she knew from the experience of the one suborbital trip they had all taken, most stars could not be seen. Surprising her, a line drifted in just as a man's voice said, "Head's up!" She grabbed for the line and missed it, but Ellen snagged it for her. As soon as she had it clipped on, she gave it a sharp tug, as they had taught her to do back on Earth. This time she saw the line coming and was not caught off guard by the same voice saying, "Second line." As soon as she had it firmly hooked to the hatch frame, she felt herself being pulled outside.
Once out of the ship, she could see the station looming over her, or was she stranded high above it, about to fall. For a moment, her mind couldn't decide. Then an instructor's voice called from her memory, 'If you start to feel disoriented, find a horizon line. Fix on that horizon line and ignore all else until you get settled'.
"Find a horizon. Find a horizon. Find a horizon." she repeated as she sought out the length of the ship.
"All right, already." the man broke into her concentration. "Find the damned horizon and let's get on with this. Management hates paying me overtime."
Dora flushed with embarrassment. Once again she was glad no one could see her face behind the glare shield. She calmed herself before responding, "I'm okay. Send out the next person."
As that person came into view, a safety line hooked onto the suit and looped over the cable running between the ship and the station, she said, "One". After what seemed to her to be an eternity, she heard 'One' repeated by a woman's voice. She then said, "Next Person," followed by "Two" as another suit drifted into view on it's journey to the station.
Just as it became routine, the man floating next to her tapped her shoulder and said, "You're all done." He pointed to her line which he'd clipped to the cable. "Go ahead and pull yourself across. I've got to herd the next group."
"Okay." Turning, she said, "Twenty-five, heading across," and grasping the cable, she pulled herself along.
posted by Derek A Benner | 1:53 PM
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