2006-05-11
Only three others shared the refectory with us and they sat in a far corner. Fient poked at his food and then leant on the table on one arm. “This stint in here is boring me. I want to go back to the stores badly, I wasn’t designed for interior work, clerical work."
He gave a sniff. “Perhaps I should ask the Farmer for a transfer to the towers, but there’s no work for a providore there, all security and motivation. I’m surprised the Farmer allocated you a position there. You know, a lot of our safety against the autochthonous nasties depends on those fellows, as well as communications and customs work. That’s a huge responsibility he threw at you and I hope you live up to it."
“It’s a vigil working at a radar station what with flimpers and oh-hells running chaos out there. The Farmer’s a sophisticated individual and it would be a trifle for him to exterminate them all, but I think he regards flimpers and pinions and all the other deviltry as things worthy of respect, either that or he feels that letting them live gives men something to do, and it hones the edges of their reflexes. A great respecter of the ecosystem is our Farmer.”
I was only half-listening to Fient. I hadn’t eaten food like this and I was enjoying it. It made me think of the future and what it held for some reason, and I was excited about my new employment.
“You’re not very conversational.”
“I’m sorry. I am eating.”
Fient nodded vacantly and gave his attention to the monitors. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to see Quella. She had changed out of the blue smock and now wore a grey and white suit. “I see you survived the Farmer.”
I told her what had happened and she smiled. “He’s fair if nothing else. Who’s your companion?”
Fient put out his hand and shook hers, and returned to his study of the screens. Quella sat beside me. “You’re a strong man and you’ll fit into the job more than adequately. I can come over and see you at the station as well.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked her.
I heard Fient grunt in amusement and Quella looked around me at him with a wry grin. She narrowed her eyes at me. “Why not, Alix? You had a few benign neoplasms on your back. I should check to see no more develop. This sunlight is strong in ultraviolet and I’m surprised not more of you suffer them. They can be hazardous."
“The least of their concerns.” Fient commented. “With the multitude of monsters out there and absurd work shifts I think cancers would rank fortieth on their list of things to keep one awake.”
“Yes, true, but monsters and onerous work policies aren’t a medical concern directly. I can’t treat them successfully. While the angepta system remains we must expect such things.”
Fient nodded in mute agreement. I wondered if either of them knew what work I did out in the fields. I guess it was easy enough to talk about it. “Do you know what a triple stint is?” I asked Quella and Fient. Fient scratched his temple. “I can imagine. A shift of work tripled in length?”
“That’s about it. An eighteen hour stint. We copped it as a penalty, generally for malingering or not bathing properly. I copped a few, usually in the silos.”
“What work did you do there? They’re all automated.”
“Only the final processors are. The grain storage silos are the ones I mean. We didn’t touch processed crop only the grains the Farmer grows. We had to bag them or put them in crates. Sometimes we made the bags and crates as well. I was actually meant to clean the ancillary silo out yesterday before the pinion attacked me.”
End of nincompoop entry