Microstory 2322: Vacuus, October 18, 2178

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Dear Condor,

I’m back online. Whew, that took longer than we expected/hoped. Home Day—which I forgot to tell you is what we call the triennial holiday that we observe to celebrate coming out of survival mode after landing on this world—was two days ago. The IT team had some major issues while they were trying to upgrade the hardware. I don’t know much about what they were dealing with, since that’s not my department. All I know is that my systems always get changed over at the end, because I still need to be on the lookout for radiation issues. Our servers were down for almost a month, which we’ve never had to endure before. Again, it didn’t really affect me, except that I wasn’t able to converse with you, so that was annoying. A lot of people had it a lot worse, though. They didn’t plan to have to stop their work for so long. Everybody was happy to have a vacation, but at some point, they wanted to get back to their jobs. That’s their purpose in life, to contribute to scientific advancement, and make a name for themselves. It was too dangerous to leave the habitat most of the time, because everything would have to be done manually, and most of the safety redundancies were gone. So people got a little bit of cabin fever. We even had a lockdown for two days, because they were testing the lockdown protocols, but couldn’t figure out how to get it turned off. I guess it was good that they learned from their mistakes before there was a real emergency. No one was able to leave their designated area for that entire time. Fortunately, I don’t really leave my room anymore anyway, now that our mom is dead. I sleep and work in the same compartment, and I’m all stocked up. Not everyone lives like that. Since I’ve never been able to leave my workstation unmanned for extended periods of time, I have special permission to store an expanded cache of rations. As long as the plumbing, electricity, and ventilation keep working, I reckon I could remain in my quarters for at least two months. It might even be longer with the carbon scrubber that I don’t use, and since I have this packet of seeds that I don’t bother with. Other people like to grow their own plants, but I prefer the prepackaged stuff. Gardening just isn’t my thing, but I could do it if I had no choice. Okay, sorry, I’m rambling again. Let me know how you’ve been. Surely our dad has been able to make contact again by now.

Back from radio silence,

Corinthia

Microstory 409: Floor 34 (Part 1)

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My people ain’t got nothin’ to do with what happens outside of the company. I am kidding, of course; not about what I said, but how I said it. Building services is a fancy way of saying maintenance, this is true. But this does not mean that we’re just composed of uneducated or backwards people. It’s true that most of my team members did not have the opportunity to seek higher education, but that does not stop them from being intelligent and thoughtful. It takes a lot of skill to do handiwork. One thing you got right is that they don’t go to school for it. At no point do they get a chance to learn everything they’ll need to know to succeed in maintenance. My people know plumbing, carpentry, painting, electrical work, and a plethora of other things. We’re often given assignments by the office workers who barely know we exist, or what we do. All they know is that they go on their computer, fill out this little form with what their problem is, and it magically goes away soon thereafter. A number of my people have been interrogated regarding their right to be in the building just because they don’t look the part. Far be it for them to stop and have a conversation with someone wearing a tee-shirt so these miscommunications stop happening. Building maintenance isn’t just about poundin’ nails anyway. We also manage all building equipment, and make sure that everyone has what they need. That’s called logistics, and a good logistician, which is what I am, actually does have a decent education. Here’s another thing they don’t realize; the walls have ears, and those ears belong to us. They carry on their conversations while we’re working, surprisingly unaware that we’re there. We know more about this building than anyone else. Why, if they asked me to become the next president, I think I wouldn’t do half bad. What they can’t see is that every team or department complains about other teams and departments. With precious few exceptions, they’re quick to blame someone else for any of the company’s problems. It’s not that they can’t conceive the possibility that they contributed to issues, or even that they don’t see it when it’s happened. It’s just that they’re scared to death of losing their jobs. Nobody wants to assume blame. They do everything they can to push it off to others, and then keep their heads down. If no one notices them, no one will think to let them go. I guess that’s one benefit of being an invisible repair worker. I’ll tell ya what, though, every single thing in this building works perfectly. I’ll fire myself on the spot if I hear something we installed or made turns out to be defective. Except for maybe that atrium skylight. That has to be redone. What was that noise?