The speakers let off a soft hiss as Lester powered off the screens and ducked back under the console. For several minutes, he didn't work at all, opting instead to take the scene in: A rat's nest of wires ran in and out of unlabeled panels of electronics and boxes. Many wires went no where at all, terminating it frayed ends that jutted out into the air like thorns on barbed wire. It was less a matter of figuring out what was wrong than why the ship was able to fly in the first place. It was a demoralizing sight.
Mansi walked into the cockpit and found Lester splayed out, with his head under the console. She looked around, noting the lack of activity on the screens. She took her seat in the pilot's chair. "Ship being temperamental again?"
"You mean to imply there's times when the ship behaves?"
"How else do we get from place to place?" Mansi ran a hand over the ship's inactive controls.
"I don't know, but I'm beginning to think that our continued survival is good evidence for the existence of God."
"Or benevolent gremlins." Mansi shrugged, "Equally probable." She looked around again, "When will the controls be back online?"
"You can turn them on now, if you like. I just didn't want Eli using the comm to find me." Lester's hand appeared from underneath the console, fumbled for a tool, and then disappeared again.
Mansi powered up the console. "He's not going to bite you."
"Good. I'd hate to catch rabies."
Mansi laughed and shook her head. "Why does he irk you so much?"
There were so many excellent answers to that question, but Lester skipped to the top of the list. "The lives of a captain's crew are his primary responsibility, a fact Captain Weiss seldom remembers."
"Shenme? We are talkin' about Timmothy Eli Weiss? The man who nearly didn't take the clock job because he was iffy over puttin' us in jeopardy?"
"I didn't say he was consistently reckless. Only enough to be dangerous."
"Give me one good example," she demanded.
Lester made a show of pondering the question over. "Off the top of my head?"
Mansi gave him a Look. "Answer the question."
Lester couldn't see the look, so the question wasn't quite as intimidating as Mansi perhaps intended. "Let's see. He deliberately sought out the most dangerous bar he could find, where he ordered a drink he had no intention of drinking, or paying for. Which nearly got all of us killed, I might add."
"He picked the bar at random and ordered the drink to fit in--yes, and the fight. The entire farce got him a pilot that is certain to respect him... as much as he can respect anyone."
Lester crawled out from under the console so he could openly gape at her. "Back up a bit. You honestly believe the best way to hire a qualified mechanic is to get in a gunfight. Is that what you're saying?"
"Pilot, and no. I'm sayin' it depends on the situation. We were on Beaumonde, on the run from the law. We're also not in the soft hands kinda business. We need a pilot and we need a tough one." Mansi paused. "There's this bond you get, from fightin' back to back. That, and respect. It's my guess that's what Eli was going for, and I'm fair sure he wasn't amiss."
"Yes, we're on the run. Yes, we're in a dangerous situation. All the more reason not to act stupid."
"Stupid? It may have been slightly risky, but then what in this gorram 'verse ain't?"
"You're all crazy." Lester ducked back under the console.
"Ah, yes. That's always your answer, isn't it? Ducking away when things don't fit your cozy, comfortable world of non-perturbedness."
"If that's the way you feel about it, I should just get off on Persephone. Because the way I see it, I was hired to keep this ship running, not as a make-shift mercenary whenever Eli decides to pick a fight against impossible odds. My one goal was to get the hell off of Shadow, which I've done and then some. I have no problem taking my leave at the next port."
"Eli didn't force you to pick up arms. He just asked," she snapped. "And I never said nothin' about against the way you do your job as mechanic."
"Yes you did, because in your conception of the universe, it's acceptable to hire someone to keep machines running, then continuously force him to choose between killing others or his own survival. I didn't come on board to make that choice. I came to get away from it."
"Don't you go tellin' me what I said and didn't say. I know what I said. And, if you really want to stay away from that choice, then I ain't averse to you stayin' behind on the ship, if you said that's what you wanted. But I'll tell you this much. This 'verse hasn't been child-proofed. There are only two ways to survive: one, hidin' and two, not bein' afraid to use your gun." Mansi stopped for a moment, but her eyes retained their ferocity. "People sense vulnerability, and your only hope for survival is making the other person damn well certain that you ain't bluffin'."
"Maybe I like to have more faith in humanity. Or maybe I just believe--could be wrong here--that you can avoid a lot of trouble by simply not seeking it out." Lester tested a wire experimentally with the tip of a tool, only to be electrocuted for his troubles. "Wangbadan de biaozi shi wo kao!"
Mansi was at his side in a second. "Ni meí shì bà?"
"Wô hên hâo." Lester sucked on one of the offended fingers. "Let's just say bullets aren't the only job hazard around here."
Mansi remained beside him. "You don't have to go on any of the 'jobs' if you don't want to, you know," she said softly.
Lester reached for a can of liquid wire cap. "I don't intend to."
Mansi watched him for a moment, then stood up. He confused her. His calm perturbed her, and his lack of adventure was irksome. But at the same time, his presence, solid, gave the ship the stability it had lacked, both literally and figuratively. It was all very annoying, but she didn't want him to change. Muttering something into the charged air, she left the cockpit. She didn't want to give herself any more time to say anything to him that she would regret later.
Who: Mansi and Lester
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The speakers let off a soft hiss as Lester powered off the screens and ducked back under the console. For several minutes, he didn't work at all, opting instead to take the scene in: A rat's nest of wires ran in and out of unlabeled panels of electronics and boxes. Many wires went no where at all, terminating it frayed ends that jutted out into the air like thorns on barbed wire. It was less a matter of figuring out what was wrong than why the ship was able to fly in the first place. It was a demoralizing sight.
Mansi walked into the cockpit and found Lester splayed out, with his head under the console. She looked around, noting the lack of activity on the screens. She took her seat in the pilot's chair. "Ship being temperamental again?"
"You mean to imply there's times when the ship behaves?"
"How else do we get from place to place?" Mansi ran a hand over the ship's inactive controls.
"I don't know, but I'm beginning to think that our continued survival is good evidence for the existence of God."
"Or benevolent gremlins." Mansi shrugged, "Equally probable." She looked around again, "When will the controls be back online?"
"You can turn them on now, if you like. I just didn't want Eli using the comm to find me." Lester's hand appeared from underneath the console, fumbled for a tool, and then disappeared again.
Mansi powered up the console. "He's not going to bite you."
"Good. I'd hate to catch rabies."
Mansi laughed and shook her head. "Why does he irk you so much?"
There were so many excellent answers to that question, but Lester skipped to the top of the list. "The lives of a captain's crew are his primary responsibility, a fact Captain Weiss seldom remembers."
"Shenme? We are talkin' about Timmothy Eli Weiss? The man who nearly didn't take the clock job because he was iffy over puttin' us in jeopardy?"
"I didn't say he was consistently reckless. Only enough to be dangerous."
"Give me one good example," she demanded.
Lester made a show of pondering the question over. "Off the top of my head?"
Mansi gave him a Look. "Answer the question."
Lester couldn't see the look, so the question wasn't quite as intimidating as Mansi perhaps intended. "Let's see. He deliberately sought out the most dangerous bar he could find, where he ordered a drink he had no intention of drinking, or paying for. Which nearly got all of us killed, I might add."
"He picked the bar at random and ordered the drink to fit in--yes, and the fight. The entire farce got him a pilot that is certain to respect him... as much as he can respect anyone."
Lester crawled out from under the console so he could openly gape at her. "Back up a bit. You honestly believe the best way to hire a qualified mechanic is to get in a gunfight. Is that what you're saying?"
"Pilot, and no. I'm sayin' it depends on the situation. We were on Beaumonde, on the run from the law. We're also not in the soft hands kinda business. We need a pilot and we need a tough one." Mansi paused. "There's this bond you get, from fightin' back to back. That, and respect. It's my guess that's what Eli was going for, and I'm fair sure he wasn't amiss."
"Yes, we're on the run. Yes, we're in a dangerous situation. All the more reason not to act stupid."
"Stupid? It may have been slightly risky, but then what in this gorram 'verse ain't?"
"You're all crazy." Lester ducked back under the console.
"Ah, yes. That's always your answer, isn't it? Ducking away when things don't fit your cozy, comfortable world of non-perturbedness."
"If that's the way you feel about it, I should just get off on Persephone. Because the way I see it, I was hired to keep this ship running, not as a make-shift mercenary whenever Eli decides to pick a fight against impossible odds. My one goal was to get the hell off of Shadow, which I've done and then some. I have no problem taking my leave at the next port."
"Eli didn't force you to pick up arms. He just asked," she snapped. "And I never said nothin' about against the way you do your job as mechanic."
"Yes you did, because in your conception of the universe, it's acceptable to hire someone to keep machines running, then continuously force him to choose between killing others or his own survival. I didn't come on board to make that choice. I came to get away from it."
"Don't you go tellin' me what I said and didn't say. I know what I said. And, if you really want to stay away from that choice, then I ain't averse to you stayin' behind on the ship, if you said that's what you wanted. But I'll tell you this much. This 'verse hasn't been child-proofed. There are only two ways to survive: one, hidin' and two, not bein' afraid to use your gun." Mansi stopped for a moment, but her eyes retained their ferocity. "People sense vulnerability, and your only hope for survival is making the other person damn well certain that you ain't bluffin'."
"Maybe I like to have more faith in humanity. Or maybe I just believe--could be wrong here--that you can avoid a lot of trouble by simply not seeking it out." Lester tested a wire experimentally with the tip of a tool, only to be electrocuted for his troubles. "Wangbadan de biaozi shi wo kao!"
Mansi was at his side in a second. "Ni meí shì bà?"
"Wô hên hâo." Lester sucked on one of the offended fingers. "Let's just say bullets aren't the only job hazard around here."
Mansi remained beside him. "You don't have to go on any of the 'jobs' if you don't want to, you know," she said softly.
Lester reached for a can of liquid wire cap. "I don't intend to."
Mansi watched him for a moment, then stood up. He confused her. His calm perturbed her, and his lack of adventure was irksome. But at the same time, his presence, solid, gave the ship the stability it had lacked, both literally and figuratively. It was all very annoying, but she didn't want him to change. Muttering something into the charged air, she left the cockpit. She didn't want to give herself any more time to say anything to him that she would regret later.
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