A Change Of Scenery

Pa-5 knocked on the door. "I'm here."

On instinct, she withdrew her hand as the door slid up and entered into a salute. On more than a single occasion, she'd walked in while he'd engaged in discussion with another headman; the embarrassment she felt seemed like enough to strike her down where she stood, though, after her recent experiences, the notion could only appear before her as confounding and silly.

"It's only us," his voice reassured her from inside. She entered, abandoning the rigid body her service ingrained into her. As always, he was behind his desk and gestured for her to close the door behind her. "Could you join me?"

They shared a smile as she sat across from him. While she made herself comfortable in a chair two sizes too large for her frame, even considering her new size with the cybernetic replacements, he rubbed the base of his neck. "I won't say who, but someone did me the courtesy of alerting me that you're not as interested in following the advice of your medical staff as you should be."

Her smile waned, and she turned tight-lipped. "That traitor."

"Hardly. He's got your back." He rested his chin on his hand. "Even if it's against you."

She chose to look around the office while he waited for her to admit defeat. It didn't take long. She would've thought that confining her to bed rest for a week would have increased her tolerance for inactivity. Instead, it deteriorated below what little she possessed to begin with. Completing her visual journey around the room, she locked eyes with him. "So, what now?"

"Now, I glean if there's a way to have you return to--"

"No." No. No more bed rest. She needed something to do, some assignment or duty that could rehabilitate her back into a semi-normal routine. She wasn't delusional to think she could pretend nothing occurred, but she needed something to occupy herself.

Being confined to bed rest left her with a single activity, and thinking was the last thing she wanted to do. That was part of the motivation behind her search of the Sixth's archives. "No," she repeated.

He snapped his fingers, drawing her eyes to it. "I figured. So, please find it within yourself to forgive me for…" his eyes flashed with resigned playfulness, "...finding you a place at one of our garages."

"If this is a jest--"

"No jest." He snapped his fingers again, and right on cue, her HUD informed her of a message sent from an officer of the First. "Reassignment", it said. He made his way around the desk to pat her stunned shoulder.

"I spoke with your medical staff to determine the worst strain your body could handle while recovering, and it was a pleasant surprise to learn you should be capable of resuming the lighter duties of an engineer."

She grasped it and looked up at him. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me alone. Your body deserves some credit for making this possible."

"And my staff?"

"Eh." He patted her and made for the door. "I might've been ready to go over their heads if I didn't hear the answer we'd prefer." His words descended in tone. "You should go as soon as possible. Though the WAVs stored within are property of the First, the Fifth owns the garages and employees staffed there. I don't need to tell you how petty In-3 can be."

"I step out of line a millimeter, and he'll use it?"

"Exactly. For example, presenting yourself a minute later than your assigned time." She glanced at the clock her HUD displayed. She had fourteen minutes.

"Thank you," she tossed over her shoulder and wormed her way around the doorframe. She realized she hadn't left Ardiseg Hall since her deliverance to the Last Light. She smiled, made gay at the familiar sights outside the entrance.

The transit back to the residential scraper left a similar sensation in her stomach. Taking a trick from the Prime Beacon, she slipped off her band to fit in with the civilian populace and avoid attention.

After a lift ride that seemed to consume far more time than a walk up the stairs would've, she traversed the corridor and unlocked her door. She made a cursory examination of the space. Though she hadn't returned to the Last Light once during her compulsory service, everything looked as clean and tidy as the day she left.

Her personal articles stacked the shelves, and that synthetic plant potted by the window was still clinging to life. It wouldn't surprise her if someone had been visiting while she was gone to keep everything in order. It could be someone from the First.

She checked her bedroom, finding a belt with clips, bags, and tools hanging from a hook. It underwent a speedy inspection, then clipped around her waist. No one removed anything necessary and included anything unnecessary.

The information sent on her HUD directed her to one of the industrial districts near the walls. She found her destination bordering the large complex built into the wall. That should be where one of the Titans was receiving servicing.

The one destined for her was smaller many times over. A single chimney broke the monotony of the carved, ugly roof, stabbing upward into the air. From its tip, a belching flow of smoke drifted off. She only knew there was smoke because her HUD notified her of it; if she relied on her eyes, the inky black looked the same after a certain height. After that still, was the mist layer, and after that? Who knew?

She circled the smaller complex, her amusement rousing when she realized the architects had planned the factory's foundations so that the off-loading gates for finished products would face the street bisecting this corner of the district, not the actual entry point for visitors, or--now her--employees.

After scanning into it, said entry permitted her passing, and she didn't make it four steps before a grungy, short-looking supervisor blipped into being at her elbow.

"Serviceman Pa-5?" The supervisor glanced down at a screen showing her dossier, which included an up-to-date face shot. It was rhetorical confirmation, standard procedure to appease one of the more paranoid headmen. "Engineer?"

"Yes, sir." She wasn't familiar with the identification bands of employees outside the First or the military, but she supposed from the pattern of markings, she was standing before the civilian equivalent of an officer. Her HUD approved the conjecture a second later.

The supervisor moved the screen to the crook of her elbow, simultaneously swiping a thumb across her nose. "Come with me. I'll show you your place in all this."