“Ur, help!” I called bleakly into the empty room. “I might need some help here.” I trailed around the building looking for someone who could help, but it was empty.
To say I was out of my league was an understatement along the lines of,space is pretty big. I’d lied on the application form, obviously.
Experience of time-sheens and funerial work.
A chatty and warm personality.
Resourceful and resilient.
The time-sheen was old and shabby. The front screen was filthy, with bodies of squashed nano flies smeared across the glass. The program box was the size of a small kid, covered with symbols I didn’t recognise.
At the bottom of the box, a bright blue star shape flashed repeatedly. I watched, rabbit-headlights, thinking about all the dumb mistakes I’d ever made at work.
It was best not to go near that button. A flash was a warning. Nobody should ever press a flashing button.
I pressed the button.
Press.
Press.
Then ran in circles of varying sizes around the building, found some stairs I hadn’t noticed before, and fled up and down.
Wheee!
It took only minutes for the lapse in sanity to calm my exploding brain, but the excitement had upset the suitsensor’s delicate wiring. My disco ensemble rapidly changed from disco to ballet and finally back to naked.
I returned to the sheen a more sombre and sensible employee, despite being naked. The button still flashed, and the glass front was lit from inside. I deduced that someone was arriving, and fast. Gradually, the flashes slowed and then stopped. Someone had arrived.
The glass swung open. A tall young woman stepped out and looked me up and down. “Bloody hell.”
Out of ideas, I saluted, silently counting to five.
The woman snickered and then held out a hand. “I’m Diane. Your suit isn’t stable. Not that I mind.”
She winked, and my remaining brain cell withered and died.
“Sorry,” I managed. “About the naked.”
Diane was dark-haired, about my age, with pale skin and freckles. She seemed familiar, or maybe it was only that she looked like so many of my fantasies.
Naked, I watched her shake my clammy hand, wishing I could go back five minutes in time to prepare myself for meeting her. Speech of any kind was entirely out of the question.
The light-sensor suit responded bizarrely to our meeting, changing colours rapidly and then dying.
Diane laughed. “This way,” she said cheerfully.
I followed her to the staffroom, where she fiddled with my suit until it covered my body, if not my shame.
Diane poked her hair behind her ear. Her shoulders appeared to be shaking. I had a terrifying thought that she knew me. Of course, she didn’t. We had never met before.
She gulped and spluttered. “So basically, the place is a dump and the owner’s a twurk. But we can have a few laughs, yeah?”
“Yes, Diane. I’m not sure how to use the machinery. Please don’t tell the bot.”
She started laughing again. My head dissolved into ripples that were difficult to ignore. Unexpectedly, I giggled, too.
Diane hiccupped. “You’re all right, B. I’m not your boss. You can be yourself around me.” Chuckling, she wiped her eyes again.
