Interzone #244 Jan - Feb 2013 (8 page)

Construction Manager Caldwell had done a nice job of allocating tasks. For the first hour or so, Murray’s role was restricted to nudging the position of steelwork lifted in by R-1. She’d had enough time in the neutral buoyancy pool to understand near-zero weight doesn’t mean near-zero inertia. She did okay.

Her troubles started when she had to use tools. It took her nearly a quarter of an hour to get her first nut onto a bolt. She struggled with the gloves. It was painful to watch. When she’d finally got it tightened, I moved over to check it. It needed a finishing twist. So did the next one, and the next, much to Diego’s delight.

“
Looks like my drinks’ll be on you tonight, nearly-nineteen.”

Murray swore viciously and promptly got worse. She dropped her podger, grabbed for it with reflexes conditioned to Earth gravity and missed. It headed in the direction of the main hotel viewport. The Gaffer pushed out and snagged it.

“
Take a breather and calm down,” he said, before passing it back. “And, Diego, concentrate on your own work.” Diego was working well. He and the arm operator had a smooth rhythm going; they made a difficult job look easy.

“
Hey,” I said to Murray, “come over here for a while and watch how I do it.” She did. I explained what I was doing and got her to repeat it. She dropped her wrench again. It was a long day.

Towards the end of the shift, Murray had mastered catching a dropped wrench. She’d done it often enough for her reflexes to adjust to microgravity. She was still struggling to do fine work with her gloves on: I made a mental note to give her a nut and bolt when we went in so she could practice overnight. She was getting better at applying torque, and she was really working at it.

“
Nearly,” I said, tightening off one of her connections.

“
I’m gonna get this right, Peggy. Here, try that.”

“
Nearly, again.”

“
That?”

“
Another nearly.”

I thought she’d lose patience, but she kept at it. As we moved onto our last step of the day she’d all but got the knack. Her last-but-one joint was almost good enough to let through. The rest of us had finished work. Diego and the Gaffer were watching. There was certainly enough torque for it to hold. I paused…considered letting her have it…

“
I’ll check it myself if you don’t hurry up,” said Diego.

I had to call it.

“
Almost, but not quite,” I said. Murray was already putting on the last nut, handling her podger neatly.

“
Here,” said the Gaffer, “let me check that one.” It took a while for him to pull over. “Hey, nice work, girlie.”

“
Yeah?” said Murray. She hung nearby, a little too close.

“
This is good for your first day out.”

“
Good enough?”

The Gaffer gave the nut one last adjustment.

“
Nearly. You’ll get the hang of it tomorrow. Should I take that hundred out of your first week’s pay?”

* *

Murray turned u
p
early for the next workshift, carrying her gloves and practice bolt. Construction Manager Angela Caldwell was talking to the Gaffer while I checked the lines. Caldwell had her long grey hair tied back and wore a singlet that showed the scars on her arms.

I greeted Murray as she came in. “Keen to get outside again, are you?” I asked. I was pleased. Enthusiasm was natural in a kid her age.

“
Nah, not specially. Wanted to talk to the Gaffer about today’s build.”

The Gaffer heard and turned, one eyebrow raised, breaking off his conversation with Caldwell. Although he and I went through the build guide every day, we didn’t expect input from the rest of the team. Not that it was banned; it just wasn’t traditional.

“
Angela, this is our latest apprentice, Grace Murray,” he said. “Murray, Construction Manager Caldwell. What did you want to talk about?”

Angela Caldwell gave Murray a level, assessing look. They were about the same height. Murray didn’t speak. I hadn’t seen her intimidated before. Diego arrived during the silence, realised something was going on, and kept his mouth shut. The Gaffer prompted Murray.

“
Come on girlie, speak up. You’ve got something to say about the build order?”

Murray could speak nicely when she wanted to; she’d learnt to smooth out her accent.

“
It’d work better if we did steps eighteen and nineteen first, then went back to step one,” she said. “We’d get the biggest section bolted into place early, meaning we could separate into two teams after that. We could get five steps ahead of the day’s programme.” She looked away. “Plus we’d be able to use two lines for the full shift.”

Diego rolled his eyes.

“
Is that what this is about?” asked the Gaffer. “You’re going to have to get used to working with one line. It’s perfectly safe.”

“
It wasn’t safe for Batukhtina.”

They’d shown the same training video back when I apprenticed. Batukhtina was an early casualty; she’d been doing a solo repair on ISS-2 when her line snapped.

The video is silent. For the first few minutes Batukhtina’s visor reflects the space station. Look closely and there’s a face at the viewport: her colleague…watching…helpless. Then, Batukhtina stops reaching towards him, turns away, and relaxes, facing the Earth, arms and legs spread-eagled.

She had floated gently away with sixty-nine minutes of oxygen and no way of getting back. It gives all of us the shivers. Just thinking about it reminded me how much I wanted to go home. If I found someone I could trust to take over my work I’d be on the next shuttle back to Earth. Sure, I’d miss the view, but I could live with that.

“
We have stronger lines now,” I said, “checked and replaced regularly. Two lines is fine for tourists, but it slows us down.”

“
My way’d be quicker though, even with secondary lines.”

Caldwell took over. She didn’t appreciate the implication her site was dangerous.

“
Interesting idea, Murray, but you’re thinking like an Earthworm. There’s not enough manoeuvrability in your spacesuits to be able to work with the main steelwork in the way. Plus, I designed this order to keep you near the others. Your inexperience is much more dangerous than working without a secondary line. You’ll do everything as a full team until I say otherwise.” Caldwell turned to the Gaffer. “That clear, Rasmus?”

“
Perfectly, Construction Manager.”

“
Way to go, nearly-nineteen,” said Diego once the door hissed closed behind Caldwell.

* *

Two weeks on
,
we finally split the team. The Gaffer and Diego went off to fit struts at the hotel end of the truss, while Murray and I checked and tightened nuts along its bottom chord. It was real monkey work.

I took a brief break to admire the Earth. Vivid patches of blue showed through heavy cloud cover. Murray didn’t stop. She was working steadily, using her podger like a pro, movements well adapted to the lack of gravity. Even Diego no longer doubted she’d done construction work before. I was beginning to think she was made of the right stuff.

“
Must have been hard for you, getting made redundant,” I said, on a suit-to-suit channel for privacy.

“
Yeah,” she said, not breaking her rhythm. “Mum’d lost her job too. Granddad looked after us, but he died last year…” She faded out. I turned to look at her, giving her the chance to continue if she wanted. She didn’t.

“
Something’s bugging me,” she said, full-volume again. “These are Boltefast nuts and bolts. The construction models spec SureEng.”

“
‘
SureEn
g
OE
A
’. That’s Or Equal and Approved. These are approved.”

“
Who picked Boltefast? Would it be the Gaffer?”

I didn’t hesitate. I’d faced tougher questioners than this kid. Plus, I was interested to see if she’d follow up.

“
Probably. He’s answerable for costs once a project’s on site. Or it could have been Head Office.”

“
And who approved it?”

“
Angela Caldwell, most likely.”

She nodded and dropped the subject, only to come back to it the next day.

“
I still don’t get the equal and approved thing,” she said. I was pleased she was bright enough to keep asking the right questions, although I was glad we were talking suit-to-suit again. I hoped I was the only one whose ear she was bending.

“
Those brands,” she said. “I looked them up. The Boltefast are lower grade. They’re not equal to SureEng. Their shear strength is lower.”

“
Lower but high enough.”

“
Who says?”

“
If Caldwell approved them, Caldwell says.”

“
It’s your initials on the change request.”

“
Then I made the suggestion and Caldwell approved it. It’s pretty routine.”

She stayed quiet for a moment, pulling out a bolt and looking at it. She was getting pretty good at fine manipulation wearing gloves.

“
They’re cheaper,” she said. “Who makes the saving?”

She
’s nearly ther
e
, I thought, willing her to work it out. I didn’t answer. When she spoke again, she seemed to have changed the subject.

“
There was this guy I worked with before,” she said. “His wages went further than everyone else’s. He had the latest tech, ate out a lot, nice clothes. I liked him. Always got the first round in at the pub.”

“
Uh-huh?” I said.

“
His sister-in-law, see, she ran a galvanising firm. Hot dip and powder coating. We used her on almost all our contracts. Must have been good.”

I knew then she was the one – my ideal successor. She confirmed it with her next question:

“
Do you think Boltefast is good in the same way?”

“
Yes,” I said, looking straight at her, “I’d say it’s good in exactly that way.”

She nodded. Time to put my exit strategy into action.

“
I’m thinking of requesting retirement,” I said. “I’m too old to be wielding a podger. But, I need someone up here to take over the paperwork.”

“
Doesn’t the Gaffer deal with it?”

“
He’s never been interested. I’d prefer to pass it on to someone else. Someone who’d keep me in the loop, as it were.”

“
That person would be taking a risk, wouldn’t they? Perhaps half the risk?”

“
I wouldn’t say half. Eighty:twenty, perhaps?”

“
Sixty:forty,” she countered.

“
It takes time to build up contacts,” I pointed out. “Eighty:twenty for the first three years, seventy:thirty when you finish your apprenticeship.”

“
Hey!” called the Gaffer, on the open channel. I looked up and he was coming our way. “You two are getting behind. Problems, Peggy?”

“
No, nothing,” I said.

“
Girlie?”

“
Nah.”

“
Get a move on, then.”

We finished the shift in silence. I was happy to let her mull it over.

* *

“
Is it true Caldwel
l
got those scars working on the London Olympic stadium?” asked Murray.

We’d just come in from a shift, a couple of days after I made my offer to the kid. I was waiting for her reply, confident it’d be yes. Who doesn’t want to earn a little extra on the side?

Construction was a day ahead of schedule, the Gaffer was whistling happily, and Diego had gone easy on Murray for a few hours.

“
That’s the rumour,” I said. “Must be forty years ago. How’d you hear? She doesn’t talk about it.”

“
One of the tourists.” The Gaffer stopped whistling and turned to look. We weren’t supposed to fraternise.

Murray continued. “Old guy. Used to be a labourer.”

“
What were you doing in the hotel?” asked the Gaffer.

“
He came over here,” said Murray. “Wanted to see how we did things.”

“
More to the point, what’s a labourer doing in the hotel?” asked Diego. “Won the lottery?”

The Gaffer and I laughed. Murray shook her head.

“
Nah, he’s been saving all his life. Always dreamed of going into space, he said.”

“
What’d he know about Angela Caldwell?” I asked.