[dripik]

Thanks again. Here's what you've been waiting for.

--------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2 – „Home Is Where You Work At”

Logger entered the building through the door, leaving the train platform behind. He arrived in a long corridor with several junctions up ahead. He watched the metal walls as he walked slowly. All of a sudden, he felt a bit lost. The greeter Slig at the platform didn’t tell him any directions. Dealer, who entered the door right before Logger, has already disappeared in one of the side corridors.

The Slig who was sleeping in the cariage caught up with him. „You hang around all day, no job left to take, no Moolah for you.” he said to Logger. Speech disorder was not unusual among Sligs – possibly a natural degeneration or he just didn’t make much effort in learning the standard Mudosian language.

„Right. I just… had a look at the place.” said Logger, and they both set off to find someone to direct them to their posts.

„This just plain factory, lotsa metal and machines. What’s name?” the Slig asked.

„Logger. Yours?”

„Spatch. This how it sound, my normal name in Sliggish.”

They arrived to the first junction of corridors. They could hear machinery working from there, a constant and repetitive set of clanking, rumbling and humming. Logger saw an information screen over their heads. He scanned it through and saw the word Administration with an arrow pointing to the left. He looked there and saw a Slig not too far away – Dealer. He was in front of a window which was separating him from was a Glukkon who was sitting in a small room.

Logger indicated to Spatch that they should follow Dealer’s example and sign in at Administration. Spatch nodded and they went to the booth. Dealer was waiting for the Glukkon to finish. While they were waiting, Logger took the time to examine the Glukkon. He was bespectacled, wearing a white shirt with a checked trouser with suspenders. He bore the appearance of a Pud (the lowest status of employed Glukkons). He was bending over the screen in front of him. Logger wondered how could he control the computer without arms – Glukkons were deprived from the normal use of their arms, since they used them as legs, which they lacked – but then he thought that he might be using a keyboard under the desk.

„So, 1007-2541… Yes, engine room hand, Boiler 14. Follow the Main Corridor – that’s the one you came in here – and take the lift down to level B1. The Main Engineer will tell the details.”

„Aye. Thanks, chief.” said Dealer in a near-mocking voice, then left. The Glukkon looked after him with an annoyed look on his face. Logger walked to the both’s window. „Good day.” He said to the Glukkon.

„Could be better. ID number?”

„1008-0065.” said Logger.

The Glukkon bent closer to the screen again. „1008-0065… Guard duty, Cafeteria on level 2. Go after that wiseguy and take the lift there. The others there will direct you.”

„Thanks. And, uh… Don’t know if you have been informed…” started Logger uncertainly. The Glukkon raised an eyebrow. Logger leant closer to the glass. The Glukkon did the same.

„They sent me because of the project.” said Logger, lowering his voice, so nobody else would hear.

The Glukkon looked at him for a second, trying to decide if the Slig’s lying or not. „I’ll have to check into that.” he said. He turned back to the screen again. Logger hoped that the Cartel didn’t just make this whole thing up as a reason to send him to Rupture Farms. He was a freshly qualified engineer and mechanic, and his skills were noted by Cartel officials. They offered him two jobs in the meat plant: he’s supposed to fulfill guard duty, like most Sligs do, and he was assigned to assist in a project as an extra shift. The Cartel told him the principles only, it was a job where Logger could learn more about engineering. Since he wanted to gain experience in a real environment instead of a trainee workshop, he accepted the offer.

But – as most people do in a stress situation – he had doubts. It would fit only too well for the Cartel to offer more than he would get. There might be no project at all – maybe it was just a cover for the real purpose. But as he thought about it again, he remembered that Rupture Farms was not so unpopular among Sligs that Glukkons would need to deceive them. A large factory, meat products, decent pay… It was not that bad.

Logger was brought back to reality by the Glukkon. „Yup, we received an attachement with your commendation info. It says you’re qualified as an engineer.”

„Yes, that’s right.” said Logger with relief.

„All right. I’ll just change your shift assignments…” said the Glukkon, and continued while typing. „I hope you didn’t go around boasting with this whole project thing. I was informed by the Board that it would be best if everyone kept quiet about it.”

„No, they told me the same. I didn’t tell anybody about it.”

„Good. Level 3, Room 1-3. Your colleagues will tell you the rest there.” said the Glukkon.

„Thanks very much.” said Logger and walked away from the booth.

Spatch stepped into his place, but he turned to Logger first. „Later, see you, Logger.”

„Yeah, see you Spatch.” said Logger and made it back to the junction. There he turned left and walked along the corridor. He wondered which level was on he exactly, since he could hear machinery from below. It appeared to him that these corridors were rather deserted. No Sligs running by, no Mudokons – though laborers would have been accompanied by guards, of course – not even a single crate among the walls. The whole place seemed to be rather clean – suspiciously clean. The walls were decorated with various posters, advertising different meat products of the factory. Logger had seen a lot of these posters in FeeCo Depot, at the Magog Labor Dispatch Building, even back in his training days. Rupture Farms sure made a high reputation over the years, and noone could say that it was gratuitous. The products were indeed of good quality – well, loads better than canteen food, anyway.

After leaving the colorful posters behind, Logger finally reached the lifts. There were four of them, two on each side of the corridor. Logger entered the first to the left. He was disappointed to see that it was nothing more than a winch platform. He put his bag down on the floor and grabbed one of the ropes, but he remembered again that he still didn’t know which floor was he on. After looking around in the shaft, he saw two numbers on the wall, encased in grey arrows. The number 5 was pointing upwards, while the number 3 in the opposite direction. This was enough info to start of with.

After taking the platform down to level 3, Logger stepped out from the lift shaft and looked around. The difference was evident from the level above: the walls were crudely knocked together with screws and torch welding. Pipes were running across them like a complex vertical labyrinth. The floor was not as clean as Logger experienced on level 4. That place must have been cleaned and waxed daily. As he set off to find someone for directions, he concluded in himself that the floor above must have been the visitor’s entrance too. The Board wouldn’t keep up an area that tidy just for Sligs.

Logger spotted a Slig standing near the wall up ahead. He was apparently fulfilling guard duty, since he was leaning on his gun, gazing down on an opening in front of him which might have led to another corridor. Logger walked up to the Slig, who just noticed him. He turned his head a bit to have a better sight at the newcomer.

„Hey there.” Logger greeted him. „Can you tell me where Room 1-3 is?”

The Slig stared Logger out of countenance, then replied. „Another greenhorn, huh?”

„Well, yeah… I’m kinda new here.” said Logger perplexedly.

„Take this catwalk here in front of me.” He pointed at the opening he was gazing at previously. Logger looked at it and saw that it was the way to a catwalk. He took a few steps to get closer and examined it. The catwalk arced over a production area which was a couple of levels below – possibly on the ground floor. Logger looked at the catwalk again, seeing that the rails were not exactly high. He didn’t feel like finishing his career by landing on one of the conveyor belts by accident.

The Slig behind him saw him hesitating. He took out a cigarette and a lighter. „Don’t expect me to hold your hand, Green.” he said, lighting the cigarette.

Logger didn’t answer but prepared himself and set off to cross over the depth, grasping the rail with one hand. Looking down from such a height is a grave mistake for those who are afraid of heights – but they do it anyway, on purpose or not. So did Logger. He saw the machinery, the conveyor belts, the Mudokons, the Sligs – all this criss-crossed by pipes and other catwalks. He convinced himself to quit the sight-seeing and continue walking towards his destination.

He was halfway across the catwalk when he heard a shout from behind. „Take the by-pass route next time. Only will take you another 2 minutes that way.” Logger was so annoyed to hear this that he almost forgot about being afraid and managed to get to the other side. He took a moment to catch his breath, and looked back. The Slig was waving at him while laughing hard. He must have sent Logger across the catwalk just for entertainment.

Logger turned away and set off to find Room 1-3. Meanwhile, he hoped that the project was some sort of gun that kills in a painful sort of way – he would recommend that ’helpful’ Slig as a test subject. The corridor he arrived to was much like the one he came from, except that it was a bit more narrow and had doors along the walls. There were all kinds of junk on the floor, neatly piled next to the doors. As Logger was looking at the door signs, he noticed that there were broken tools, devices and parts among the garbage. „This place must be the Maintenance area.” he thought. He finally found Room 1-3. After kocking on the closed door, he heard a high voice answering. „Come on in.”

Logger pushed a button on the control panel, and the door opened, revealing a cluttered room. The first thing he noticed was a repair table in the middle, lit by a lamp which hang from the ceiling. Surrounding the table were all kinds of containers, desks, cabinets, tool boxes and various machinery for metalwork, all this in a near-artistic jumble. Among the equipment, Logger spotted a purple-skinned, four-armed and three-legged creature – a Vykker – who was looking at him enquiringly, holding some papers he might have been reading earlier. „Can I help you?” he asked in the high-pitched voice Logger heard from outside.

„Uh, yes…” said Logger, distracted by the large, green-lenned device the Vykker wore over his left eye. „I was told to come here because…”

„Don’t tell me that grinder in sector B3 is malfunctioning again!” interrupted the Vykker with a pained expression on his face. „I spent my whole lunch-hour to get that thing running again.”

„No, no, it’s not that… You see, I…”

„Oh wait, you haven’t been around for long, have you?” said the Vykker, just noticing Logger’s bag. He rose from his seat, placing the papers on the repair table while eyeing the Slig. „Are you the trainee mechanic?”

After Logger nodded, the Vykker seemed to be relieved. „Ah, good. I’m glad you made it. I hope you had no trouble on your way here.”

Logger remembered the long train journey, the lack of info he got from the staff generally, and finally the Slig he met at the catwalk. „No, no trouble at all.” he said, walking up to the Vykker. „My name is Logger.” He offered his hand.

„And mine is Phyl Cobardon. Phyl for short.” said the Vykker, shaking Logger’s hand. „You can put your bag down in that room.” said Phyl, pointing at a door to the right. „You will find your bunks in there, too. You’re sharing the room with Smokey. He’s the third of us.”

„OK, thanks Phyl.” Said Logger. The Vykker nodded as a response, then picked his papers up again. Logger walked to the door and opened it. He entered a room even smaller than the workshop. There were metal poles, more tools and devices piled by the walls. The room also contained a rather dirty sink and a small tray of tin cups. He saw two Slig bunks attached to the wall. One was rather ruffled, so he guessed the other one was his. He dropped the bag next to his bunk, then returned to the workshop.

Phyl was sitting on a chair again, reading his papers. When he heard that Logger have returned, he beckoned the Slig towards another chair. Logger took the seat and watched the Vykker.

„Now, as you surely have been informed, we are working on a project here which is rather sensitive. The Magog Cartel didn’t want to make it public knowledge, in case someone would intervene.” Phyl stopped here, but Logger didn’t have any questions, so he continued. „We are about to design and construct a prototype security mechanism with artifical intelligence. An armed robot which would be used for security purposes, in other words.” The Vykker paused for a few seconds, allowing his words to sink in for Logger. „I am aware that you don’t have much experience, but the deadline of this project is not pressing, so you’ll find plenty of opportunities to learn from Smokey and me. We are both experienced mechanics, we have been in the job for decades. If you’ll have any questions, we… well, I won’t speak on Smokey’s behalf, but I will try to answer them to the best of my knowledge.”

„Um, thanks, that’s very helpful of you.” Said Logger, surprised by the Vykker’s readiness. „I’ll try to do the best I can.”

„I’m sure of that. Now, the Security Officer payed me a visit earlier and wanted me to tell you about your guard duties. You are supposed to appear at your guard post every morning and stay there until lunch hour. After you had your meal, you return here and help us with the project until end of shift. That’s all, I think.”

„OK. Shall I go and report to the Security Offficer now or something?” asked Logger.

„I don’t think that’s necessary. He must be aware of your presence now, he surely received your profile from the Administration. You can have an early shut-eye if you like, we don’t have anything to do with the project yet, I’m just reading through my notes about our course of work. Smokey will arrive later, I guess he’s talking with the guys at Maintenance Storage.”

„I see. Well, see you tomorrow, Phyl. Night.”

„Night, Logger. I’ll tell Smokey about your arrival, so he wouldn’t kick you out from there. He’s getting old, you know, he might see you as an intruder.” said Phyl, returning to his notes again.

„Yeah, thanks for that.” Said Logger, retreating into his room. He was about to get into his bunk, when he remembered his bag. He opened it and pulled out a bulky laptop from inside. He turned it on, then got into his bunk. After the computer finished booting, he opened his personal logs and started typing.

„Log #0587. I’ve made it to Rupture Farms. The route was rather long, I mostly watched some guys called Dealer and Batty playing cards until we arrived here. Luckily, everyone was aware here of why I came in the first place. And the project was not a hoax either. Though I imagined that they already have made some progress. The guys I work with are called Phyl and Smokey. I haven’t met the latter yet, but Phyl seems OK for a Vykker. I haven’t seen much of the factory yet, but what I have seen was enought for today. I stumbled across a catwalk on my way here, I’m rather exhausted, so I’m signing off now.”

Logger read it through again, then turned off the laptop, and settled down in the bunk, ready to fall asleep.