Proving True

Over the next three weeks, Athena learns the Transit drives from deck plate to overhead, fore to aft and port to starboard as far as physical construction. I have no doubt that she could disassemble and reassemble any one of them with a screwdriver and a set of box-open end wrenches. She’s also on loan to the kitchen staff and has prepared several meals—under Chef Pierre’s supervision—for the senior staff and has been getting rave reviews. I’m in my stateroom going over my armor design, trying to solve a cooling problem when my perCom trills, the caller identification indicates it’s Lorena DuQuois.

Isis above, what does she want? “MacTaggert,” I answer.

“Get your broad, pampered ass to my office, and I mean now!” The click indicates she didn’t even wait for a response before breaking the connection. I know what that means so I save open documents on my computer and beat feet down the companionway.

I press the button to announce my arrival, the door slides open and I enter. I have no idea what I’ve either done that I shouldn’t have or not done what I should have that has earned me her ire. But I’m certain that I will find out soon. “Assistant Engineer Sonia MacTaggert reporting, ma’am.” I hope I can keep my job and my temper. I can feel my grasp on both slipping.

She presses a button on her desktop, the door slides shut behind me. DuQuois stands, leaning on her desk, glaring at me. Her knuckles whiten. Her lip curls into a snarl. “I have good news, I have better news,” she rasps. I’m confused, if this is how good news is delivered, I don’t want to be anywhere close when bad news is about. “The Captain is very happy with your work, particularly your armor prototype. According to your reports, it is 90% invisible at 30 meters under indirect lighting conditions. You also indicate it should be capable of deflecting rocket propelled munitions up to 9mm in size.”

“We haven’t…”

“Shut your damned mouth!” she screams before I can explain we haven’t tested that yet. “When I want to hear you say something, I will use the command, ‘Speak’ is that clear?”

“Yes…”

“I didn’t say, ‘Speak.’” She snarls as she walks around the desk, invading my personal space. Her nose is within an inch of mine. “You are a talented engineer, but you are going to start slacking off a little. You’re not going to file these Wonder Girl reports anymore. You’re not going to have another success on the, what are you calling it?” She looks at the report on her desk. “Ah yes, the wraith project. You won’t have another success for the next two weeks. In short, you’re not going to show me up. You are not getting my job do you understand me? You are not Dynamic Woman, Engineer Extraordinaire. You are now Wendy the wrench wench! Do we understand each other?” It takes everything I have, but I manage to keep my jaw clenched. “Speak!” she barks.

“Ma’am,” I say as calmly and evenly as I can, “I have no designs on your job. You say the Captain is happy with my work, and I believe that when you say it. I did not know the research documents had been made public. I mean no disrespect, but I don’t want your job. I can only imagine the headaches that come with a ship this size and a staff as diverse as yours. I’ve been an Engineering department head and I was managing fewer people then than I am now. When I commanded Night Searcher my primary staff was smaller than yours. You may not believe me, ma’am, but I am content where I am, doing what I’m doing, which is working for you. I do need some guidance and clarification though, where is it you want me to ‘slack off?’ You told me on my first day to do as I wished as long as the Transit drives continued to run, which they have. Yes, I have had some success in some side projects, but those will go with me when I leave and I anticipate doing that as soon as we get back to Atlas.”

“You’re damned right you will,” she spits at me. “The one thing you do not have on this ship is a future. When the Captain compliments your work, and he will, you’re going to say that I taught you a lot of what you applied to that project. It will be in your best interest as I have a lot of impact on your final evaluation and that determines your final paycheck. If you want to get paid half of what you signed on for, you need to keep me happy.” She moves back behind her desk. She is about to sit when she appears to remember something. “Oh, and one other thing, I need a new love puppet and your pilot friend, Landers, in the SDB squadron is nominated. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll make it happen. Dismissed.” She activates the door control. The door slides open and I back out through it—too flabbergasted to protest. As soon as I’m clear of it, the door closes. I am so confused and angry I couldn’t even mount an appropriate response, and I know I desperately need to. I stand in front of the door, dumbfounded. I can’t decide if I’m more irate because she wants me to do less than my best or she wants me to pimp out one of my best friends.

My perCom trills distracting me, it’s Commander Nimyitschi, the First Officer. “Miss MacTaggert, I see you have requested the use of the hangar deck for a live fire exercise. I’m sure you understand that I have some safety concerns, for personnel and materiel.”

“Yes sir,” I say. Given what just happened with the boss, it’s time to throw her under the Magtrain. “I ran the request and the risk analysis worksheet through Chief DuQuois en route to you.” Which is true, it’s not my fault if she didn’t read them.

“I noted that. I will be having a meeting with both of you, be prepared to allay my fears. She will notify you of the time.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Nimyitschi, out.” I put my perCom in my pocket, I’m sure I’ll hear about when that meeting is from her in a few days. But for right now, I’m going back to my workshop. There’s another trill from my perCom, a text message.

XO’s office @0700 tomorrow. Wear something revealing.

It’s from DuQuois. Just what I need, an overbearing bitch trying to not only turn me into a pimp, but feels threatened by me enough to tell me to play the whore.