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How to Keep Your Cool If You’re a Mech First Day on the Job (Part 2 of 2)

By Vera Brook

(…Continued from Part 1)

Jenna gave herself a few moments to seethe in silence before she spoke, to make sure her voice was calm. “I can’t move.”

“Did you hear that?” Daron took a swig of his water, then bit into his sandwich. He looked around the table at the others. Not even a glance at Jenna. “She can’t move.”

“It’s a problem,” Skye admitted.

“Definitely is,” Irelyn agreed.

“Most unfortunate.” This from Khalil.

There was a pause as they waited for Uruk, but he was staring at his computer screen. He jumped up when Irelyn’s elbow poked his ribcage. “We’re still good. No delays. I’m keeping track.”

“We’re talking about the newbie, Uruk,” Irelyn said. “She can’t move.”

Uruk blinked, still oblivious. “Why not? What’s wrong?”

“That’s a very good question,” Daron said, and this time he looked straight at Jenna.

Her temper flared. “I can’t move because you froze my ass!” she growled.

Daron chewed on his sandwich, unfazed. “Correct.”

Jenna’s insides boiled.

Then the pieces clicked into place. “Wait. This is my lesson?”

“We have to start with the basics,” her boss admitted.

Jenna gritted her teeth. “You mean, you’re going to keep me standing here like a moron, stuck in this suit, instead of letting me take my break? What if I want to eat lunch?” She hesitated, but she was past holding back. “What if I have to use the damn restroom?”

Daron shrugged, but his expression was somber. “Like I told you this morning, I consider self-control a basic requirement for the job.”

“The part about me not losing my shit if things went wrong, right? I remember.” She might not be able to move her body, but she still had her tongue and her face. She scowled. “I just had no idea you meant it literally!”

Laughter shook the lunch table, with Khalil snorting so hard, he choked on his food and had to spit a mouthful into a napkin while Uruk pounded him on the back.

Daron’s lips twitched.

“Okay, Jenna.” He rose from his seat and walked over, his half full water bottle in hand. “You want me to lift the lock, so you can get out of this suit? It’s easy.”

Jenna narrowed her eyes, suspecting a trap. “Really?”

Daron stopped three feet away from her. “Sure. All you have to do is say the safe word.”

“The safe word?”

There was no safe word. Was there? Jenna glanced at the others and caught a look of confusion on Khalil’s face, but Skye kicked him under the table before he could speak.

“Two words,” Daron continued. “You already know them. You’re probably thinking them right now—”

I quit.

Inside her frozen exosuit, Jenna shivered in fury. “Screw you. I’m not going to quit! So leave me alone. I’m fine.”

She had to pee, that was true. But she could hold it. When they got busy at Lazy Dog’s, especially when one of the other servers quit without notice or didn’t show, she had to hold it for half a night and run around the whole time.

This was nothing. It wasn’t so bad at all. She wasn’t baking in the sun. The breeze from the fan wasn’t too cold either. She could handle it.

Daron lifted his bottle to his lips and gulped down the rest of the water. “Come on, Jenna. There are so many better, safer jobs. You could work in a nice office and drink all the water you want, gallons of it, cold and refreshing. And the restroom would be right there, you know?”

Jenna pursed her lips. She wished her boss would shut up about the water. The very thought made her bladder fuller. She couldn’t turn her head away—the carbon-fiber spine hooked to her hard hat prevented the movement—but she could glare just fine, and did.

“Suit yourself. I’ve got to hit the john.” And Daron tossed his empty bottle into a recycling bin and strolled out the back door.

---

Thirty-two minutes later, according to the clock on Jenna’s display, a faint buzzing tickled her ears. She strained her neck toward the open gate of the hangar but her suit was still frozen, and she could only turn her head an inch. Not enough to look outside.

No one at the lunch table reacted, their attention on Uruk as he explained a holo-blueprint of a house that he called up from his computer, with occasional questions and discussion from the others. The food containers were long gone, the lunch break transformed into a work meeting.

“Guys,” Jenna said. “Do you hear this?”

Heads turned as they all looked at her, instantly alert.

“Hear what?” Skye frowned.

“A buzzing,” Jenna said. Her high-tech hard hat was probably enhancing the sound. She was the only one wearing one at the moment. “Very faint.”

The sound grew louder, like a swarm of mosquitoes heading their way, getting closer.

Daron got to his feet and walked over. “I hear it. The drone must be early.” He turned to Jenna. “How are you doing?”

“I’m not a fan of your teaching methods,” she said dryly.

Daron lifted an eyebrow. “I can live with that. Now don’t lean back or you’re going to fall. Take a step forward.” He lifted his arm and tapped on his touchscreen. “And go.”

The tension went out of her exosuit, her center of  gravity all wrong for a moment, and Jenna half-stepped, half-fell forward before catching her balance.

She took a few more steps in place, twisted her torso from side to side, lifted her arms and turned her head. It felt good to move again. Somehow, the suit fit her body better than before, like a new pair of sneakers after she broke them in.

Not that she was going to share it with her boss. She was still mad at him.

“You owe me a lunch break,” she said.

Daron’s blue eyes flashed. “Can I open a tab? It might be easier. We’re just getting started. We can settle my bill when we’re all done.”

Jenna blinked in surprise, the reference to her job at Lazy Dog’s sparking an odd flicker of pleasure. So her boss had taken the time to read her application and learn her job history after all. She didn’t think he had.

Not that it excused freezing her suit, Jenna reminded herself.

It didn’t.

Life had knocked her through a whole series of hard, thankless jobs after Paps had died, and there was always some sort of hazing, some sort of test for the newcomers. It was such a shitty thing to do, a cruel and pointless power trip, nothing more. Even at Lazy Dog’s—by far her favorite place to work—she found the pockets of her apron filled with ketchup on her first night.

For once, she would like her co-workers to trust her and cut her some slack, instead of her having to prove herself from day one. She wanted to do a good job; she wanted to do right by the team. She just needed time to find her legs under her.

Hell, nobody was born a Mech. They all had to learn and grow into it. Even Daron.

Outside the hangar, red dust was blowing, the buzzing now loud and mechanical, a low whirring undercut by a rhythmic hiss of rushing air. An engine and several rotating blades.

How big was the drone? Jenna wondered. She badly needed to use the restroom, but her curiosity won out and she lingered.

Skye and Khalil had hurried past her and Daron and out the gate to check on the delivery.

Now Skye looked back over her shoulder. “Um… boss? We have a visitor.”

Daron’s face darkened, and he cursed fiercely and stalked outside.

Jenna followed.

---

It wasn’t a drone.

A sleek, executive hovercar touched down on a patch of packed dirt and powered down with a grunt. As soon as the blades stopped and the red dust settled, a woman in a shimmering gray pant suit emerged, her blue-black high heels and leather bag perfectly matching her blue-black, shoulder-length hair, or maybe vice versa. She squinted against the hot, bright sun and shaded her eyes with her hand, her mouth twisting with disapproval.

Jenna had never seen someone more out of place.

Daron glared at the stranger. “What do you want?”

Jenna saw his bad mood earlier. But this was different—ice cold and laced with resentment. He and the exec clearly knew each other and hated each other’s guts.

The woman smiled, but her voice dripped with venom. “Really, Daron. Would it kill you to be polite? A simple professional courtesy. Not to mention I’m much higher in the food chain.”

Daron spoke through clenched teeth. “We’re busy.”

A smirk. “I can see that.”

Irelyn walked up to Daron and handed him a hard hat. The hat was smeared with the printing clay, and Jenna could smell the stench from where she stood.

Daron nodded thanks to Irelyn, his eyes brightening for a moment, then offered the filthy head gear to the visitor. “If you really want to see what we do here, by all means, come along. But you’ll need a hard hat. A safety rule.”

The woman glanced at the hat and shrunk back in disgust. “That won’t be necessary. Not my department.” She flashed Daron a smile sharp enough to cut. “I’m here to talk to your new team member.”

“Wait a second—”

Daron tried to block her way, but the exec slipped past him, one hand clutching the bag, her high heels clicking as she took quick, cautious steps on the gravel. She had impressive balance, Jenna had to give her that. Jenna would’ve broken her ankle already. She avoided any shoes she couldn’t comfortably run in, and high heels topped the list.

The woman headed straight for Jenna, as though guided by a targeting system. She extended her hand for a handshake, then registered Jenna’s exosuit and robo-gloves, and opted for an ultra-friendly smile instead. “You must be Joanna.”

“It’s Jenna.”

“Wonderful to meet you.”

The exec rattled out her own name and title, but she spoke so fast that Jenna only caught two words. Retention strategies.

Her full bladder pinged, and she winced. Seriously? Retention as in holding it in? She could do without another reminder.

The woman was still talking, so Jenna made an effort to focus.

“First, on behalf of myself and everyone in the Employee Success Division, I want to say: welcome aboard! We are thrilled to have someone with your training and experience join the team, and we know you will be a terrific asset and make fantastic contributions to our company’s production goals and our mission to provide innovative, sustainable, and affordable housing options to all members of our community.”

The speech would sound less memorized if the woman paused to take a breath instead of rushing through the script at a breakneck speed.

“Thanks.” Jenna moved from foot to foot, impatient to wrap it up. She should have shed her suit and snuck out to the port-a-john when she’d had a chance.

The woman’s eyes narrowed, and a shrewd, hungry look came into her face. “What’s wrong, Joanna?”

Jenna stopped moving. “What do you mean?”

“Something is bothering you. Did anything happen?” The woman moved a step closer and lowered her voice, as if the sound system in Jenna’s hard hat didn’t already pick up every rustle of her expensive pantsuit, the fabric glinting in the sun like the scales of a snake. “You can trust me. It’s not about pointing fingers, anyway. It’s about improving the culture for all future employees. A positive experience on the first day is critical to employee success.” The woman’s eyes flicked to Daron, then back to Jenna, her expression predatory, a fox ready to pounce. “So if anyone treated you poorly today, I need to know, and I will personally make sure that they will never do it again.”

Heat rushed through Jenna, her tongue itching to speak.

Someone did treat her poorly. In fact, motion-locking her suit was probably classified as harassment. She could get Daron fired. A small part of her wanted to.

Except… Jenna had never ratted on anyone in her life—and that’s what it was, no matter how Retention Strategies spun it. She would settle the score herself later.

Besides, the woman didn’t give a crap about Jenna. She had her own agenda—to strike at Daron and use Jenna as a hammer.

“Thanks, but so far, so good,” Jenna said brightly. “I’m just still getting used to all this cool gear, you know?” She gestured at her suit and hard hat.

“Wonderful. I’m happy to hear that.” The woman’s voice was chilly. “Well, if you ever have any issues or concerns, any at all, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m here for you, Joanna.”

Jenna would rather dig a ditch with her bare hands. “Yep. Got it.”

---

The real delivery drone, when it arrived a moment later, was a quadcopter the size of a briefcase, with a propeller in each corner and virtually soundless. It descended to Uruk’s eye level, confirmed his identity with a retinal scan, then deposited a small package at his feet and took off again, vanishing into the bright sky.

Was it the right part? Could they fix the print head and finish the house as planned?

All the eyes were on Uruk, including Jenna’s, as he tore open the package and inspected the contents.

When he gave a thumbs up, the response was a collective sigh of relief. Skye, Khalil, and Irelyn exchanged high fives.

Jenna felt a sting of disappointment at being left out, but Daron was already marching toward them.

He ignored the exec and addressed Jenna, his tone neutral. “Do you need more time?”

Jenna shook her head. “Nope. All done.” What she needed was the restroom.

Her boss gave a slight nod before turning to the visitor. “Okay. Then let me show you out.”

The woman huffed with irritation, her smile gone. “You know, I’ve had it with your attitude. I still need to explain to our vice-president for Employee Relations what the hell happened here last week. And how am I supposed to do that?”

Jenna drifted a few steps away and stopped, the urge to eavesdrop stronger than the need to empty her bladder.

“It’s all in my report,” Daron said.

The woman glared. “Your report was one sentence long.”

“He quit. What else do you want me to say?”

“Quit after just three days on your team. And that doesn’t bother you? No thoughts on how to prevent an embarrassing fiasco like that in the future?”

Daron’s face darkened. “You want my thoughts? Okay. Here’s one. Scrap the idiotic hiring algorithms and let me pick my own crew. Based on actual skills, not goddamn keywords.”

The woman blinked in shock. “You? That’s never going to happen.”

“Then stop wasting my time. I have a house to print and a new Mech to train.”

Jenna’s ears pricked. A new Mech. He meant her.

“Fine. Suit yourself.” The woman gave a malicious smirk, any pretense of sophistication gone. “But just so you know, I’m assigning you an online training course in Workday. Leading With Compassion To Maximize Team Productivity. I think you will really benefit from it. You have a week before it’s overdue, and you know how many notifications that will generate.” And she tossed her black hair and stalked away.

Daron watched her go, his jaw clenched and teeth grinding like he was chewing on rocks.

“Jenna?”

Jenna turned, startled, her carbon-fiber elbow narrowly missing Skye’s ribcage. “Yeah?”

“I bet you need to pee. Come on.” Skye pointed toward the hangar. “I’ll help you out of the suit.”

Jenna’s pride flared, and she was tempted to refuse the offer, to deny she had to pee at all. But that would be stupid. Her bladder throbbed, on the verge of bursting. Not something she wanted to experience on her first day—or ever.

“That would be great. Thanks.”

Skye was still there, waiting to help her back into the suit, when Jenna got out of the port-a-john, her bladder blissfully empty.

“Why did he quit? The new guy before me, I mean?” Jenna asked.

Skye frowned. “That guy. Ugh. Never should’ve been hired. He thought robots would do all the hard work for him, and he’d just sit on his ass and press buttons. And when Daron disabused him of that notion, he got all pissy, ignoring directions, and almost walked into the print head. Irelyn had to smash through a wall to pull him out of the way. And then he quit.”

“And good riddance,” Jenna said with feeling.

Skye chuckled. “Damn right.” Then her expression hardened. “He really screwed us, though. Just up and left in the middle of a shift. Uruk had to suit up to help us take apart the printer, and that’s not his job. We’re still behind schedule. Although we’ll catch up. We always do.” Skye shook her head. “Daron was pissed. He’d just trained the guy for two whole days, and the asshole took off on the third.”

Ah-huh.

The pieces snapped together in Jenna’s mind.

So that’s why Daron was so harsh and skeptical when she showed up today; why he taunted her about quitting; why he froze her suit to test her resolve. She was another newbie the company hired without his input, although if anything went wrong, if she got injured or caused damage, it would be on Daron’s head.

It didn’t excuse him, and it was still unfair to Jenna, and she had no intention of letting it go.

But now she understood his reasons.

---

The rest of the work day passed quickly.

When the printing resumed, Daron told Jenna, less gruffly this time, to watch and learn but stay out of their way. With the new heatbreak in place, and a clean nozzle spitting out a perfect roll of clay, the small crew were rushing to make up for the lost hour, and Daron didn’t have time to keep an eye on her. They would start the proper training the next morning.

But Jenna hated being idle while the others were so busy, and she kept asking for a job until  her boss relented and gave her one: scrubbing the clogged extrusion nozzle.

At first, Jenna was indignant. A cleaning job? Really? Was Daron messing with her again?

But he wasn’t. The job was time sensitive, because a fully hardened clay was almost impossible to remove; and it required precision and a light touch, which meant no suit and only latex gloves. With everyone else occupied, Jenna was the only one who could do it. For all the high-tech advances in 3D printing, the cleaning tasks still fell to humans. Jenna mused about the irony of it as she pried bits of clay from the nozzle in the lengthening shadow of the printer frame.

Dusk was falling by the time Daron called it a wrap, a good few hours past the time their shift was supposed to end, although no one complained.

The house was finished—and that’s what mattered. All except for the precast roof, which a specialty crane would drop, section by section, into the rebar cages on top of the walls when all five houses were done.

It had been a productive day, and that made up for Jenna’s aching muscles.

But she didn’t forget about Daron freezing her suit. And to think of it, none of her crew mates had stood up for her or tried to intervene either. Which meant Jenna had a score to settle with all of them—and she’d love to settle it right now, tonight, and start fresh tomorrow.

When Uruk powered down the printer, Jenna expected a hasty exodus. Surely, they all wanted to get home and kick back after a hard day. Or just escape the earthy stench of the printing clay that somehow grew more potent after sundown.

But the group lingered, Skye, Irelyn, and Khalil all throwing Daron pointed looks while he stared back grimly, lips tightly shut.

Skye wasn’t having it. “Come on, boss. You should say something.” And just to make her meaning crystal clear, her eyes flicked to Jenna.

Daron frowned, but he was outnumbered. He cleared his throat and turned to Jenna. “Umm. You did well today. You kept your cool.”

Jenna grinned, a spark of an idea sending a shiver down her spine.

You kept your cool.

That was it. She knew what to do.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. So… how about a round of cold beer? My treat.”

A look of surprise crossed Daron’s face, and his blue eyes drilled into her like lasers.

Jenna held his gaze and kept smiling, although her nerves were in knots.

She had one shot at this. If she pushed it, her new boss might get suspicious. She sensed the others were letting him decide.

Come on, Daron. Say yes. Who doesn’t want a cold beer after a long, hot day?

Daron’s lips twitched. “Okay. Why not?”

Jenna beamed. “Great. I know a perfect place.”

---

As far as the names of pubs went, Lazy Dog’s had to be least accurate in the city, since most of its regulars were construction and hospital workers who busted their asses all day like nobody’s business.

The cavernous main room was all dark wood and green synthetic leather, with dim, warm lights and old, framed photos of canines of all shapes and sizes on the walls. The restaurant took up one half of the room, while the bar with standing counters took up the other.

The place was packed when Jenna and her guests arrived—every table, every booth, every stool at the long bar taken.

But that was no surprise. Lazy Dog’s was always busy on the week days. In fact, Jenna counted on it.

“Wow,” Skye said, looking around. “This place is popular.”

“Don’t worry,” Jenna said.

Several servers deftly wove their paths through the crowd, carrying trays with hot food or cold drinks. Jenna waved to one—Moira, whom she’d trained as her replacement—and the girl hurried over, grinning.

“Jenna! Are you back? Bob will be so happy. We’re swamped, as always.”

“No. Sorry.” Jenna smiled. “I need a favor, though. I promised my friends cold beer, and I was hoping to use the party room.”

Moira sighed. “Sure thing. Go right ahead. I’ll get your order ready.”

Jenna almost laughed. She might actually be able to pull off her crazy idea. “Thanks. I’ll come say hello to Bob in a bit.”

“A party room?” Daron commented. “Sounds fancy.”

Jenna shrugged. “I used to work here. It’s a perk.” Then she turned to the group. “Come on. Follow me. We’re going this way.”

The private party room was in the back, a smaller, windowless cavern with large wall screens and green synthetic leather couches surrounding a low table in the middle. The air was blissfully cool, the AC humming in the background. Jenna had picked a slightly longer route to avoid the restrooms.

“Come on in.” She held the door open with a smile, letting her guests enter first. One by one, Khalil, Uruk, Skye, and Irelyn walked in and stretched on the couches with a chorus of grateful sighs.

Only Daron paused in the doorway, frowning. “I appreciate the gesture, but we’re thirsty enough to drain a lake, and I won’t let you blow your first paycheck. We’ll split the bill six ways.”

Laughter tickled Jenna’s throat, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “Don’t worry. I get a great discount.”

The moment stretched, with Daron still standing in the door, one leg in the room, the other out, and it took all Jenna’s willpower not to nudge him inside.

But at last, he walked in.

Jenna’s spine tingled. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be right back with the beer.”

And she closed the door, savoring the satisfying click, and hurried to find her former boss.

---

Minutes later, Jenna had Bob’s office all to herself. She spun around in the chair, propped her feet on the desk, and faced the intercom screen. This was going to be fun.

She hit the remote, and the party room filled the screen.

“Hi, there,” Jenna said.

Her guests could see her on their screen and hear her on the speakers, just as she could see and hear them. A generous case of beer sweated on ice on the table, together with a platter of food, all delivered through a rotating tray built into the wall. Khalil, Irelyn, Skye, and Uruk each held an open bottle already.

Jenna grinned. “I hope you enjoy the beer. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Her crew mates raised their beers to her in response.

Bob, the owner of Lazy Dog’s, used to a be a coast-to-coast trucker before automatic transport fleets made his job obsolete. Now, maybe to catch up for all these dull years alone behind the wheel, he loved nothing more than to be let in on a mischief, and was perfectly willing to lend his property, whether a room or a volume of beer, to share in the laugh.

Daron walked up to the screen, his eyes on Jenna.

To her disappointment, his hands were empty. Too bad. She was hoping he’d finish a beer or two before he realized her plan.

“The door is locked,” he said casually.

“Hmm.” Jenna popped her own beer bottle open and took a sip. The cool, crisp taste was exquisite, with just a tinge of bitterness that lingered on her tongue. Perfect. “If the door is locked, then… it’s a problem.”

Daron’s eyes flashed as the realization hit him. “You locked it, didn’t you?”

Four heads swung in Jenna’s direction, various degrees of shock on their faces.

Jenna grinned. “I did.”

For the first time since she met him, Daron smiled, one corner of his lips riding up higher than the other, as if he was out of practice, his facial muscles unused to forming that particular configuration.

An understanding passed between them, and Jenna smiled back. Something told her they would get along just fine from now on.

“So how do we unlock the door, Jenna?” Daron asked.

“Oh. All you have to do is say the safe word. I’m sorry for being an ass. Otherwise, I’d go easy on the beer. Sorry. I know it’s delicious. But hydraulic pressure and all that.”

Daron actually chuckled. “I guess we deserve it.”

“I almost forgot.” Jenna picked up the remote again. “White winter or a babbling stream? Let’s go with a babbling stream.” A looped nature video filled the other screens in the party room. “I just love the sound of running water, don’t you?”

There was a collective groan.

“Well, I’ll check on you all in a bit.” And Jenna turned off the intercom.

The saying was true. Revenge was best served cold. Chilled-beer-in-a-sweating-bottle-with-the-AC-turned-way-up cold.

But with the score settled and the payback delivered, she decided she liked her new job and her new team. Sure, she had a lot to learn, and the job would kick her ass for the first few weeks, until she got the hang of it. But that was fine.

She couldn’t wait to put on the exosuit and help print another house tomorrow.