Post by effinfitz on Mar 16, 2013 13:25:37 GMT -8
Catalina ducked into the lounge, breathless. She closed the door as quietly as she could and then leaned up against it to hold it shut.
ESI Labs only kept a tiny space for employee breaks and meals. There was a refrigerator, a microwave, a television, and couple of small tables ringed by mismatching chairs. The department was small, barely more than a dozen strong and rarely all working at the same times. It was late on a Friday night at the moment, so it was unusual enough that even Cat was punched in. But she hadn't felt up for the usual end -of-the-week partying: Tink had snatched Diego away from her last night, that heifer, and that meant she didn't really have anyone to get drunk with and talk about how awesome the Huxtable Autocannon was.
And it really was awesome. She hoped Diego got fleas for this.
The lounge was occupied, as it turned out. Donna, one of the chemists on staff, "eating dinner." Code for watching Friday Night movies, really. She'd probably been here for hours. She had barely looked up when Cat barged in, and now didn't even turn around. Just held out the bag of microwaved kettle corn she'd been wolfing down with greasy fingers and said "Heya" in her "I've-been-smoking-since-I-got-out-of-the-Dustbowl" voice.
"Brad still pissed?"
ESI Labs worked out of basements A6 and 7 of the Solvall. A giant space, bigger than most warehouses, filled to the brim with shelves and lathes and engines and other big, heavy pieces of very sophisticated junk that should, in theory, have been able to muffle the shouts echoing from the clear opposite side of the facility.
Catalina pressed her ear to the door. Her eyes, widened, shocked. Then she winced. "...maybe a little, si."
Donna grunted, kicked out a chair for Cat to sit down next to her in. Cat grimaced, because she secretly didn't like Donna -- everyone knew that -- but she didn't want to seem rude. She sat.
"Same old shit as all week, or did somethin' else go wrong?"
"He said that -"
Donna shushed her suddenly with a wave of one butter-battered hand. Pointed at the TV where a men's underwear commercial was playing. Watched, transfixed. When it was over she made a low whistle that caused the tiny hairs on her chin to quiver.
"Right, sorry, go ahead."
"He said that the ODIN prototype went missing, an' --"
Another interruption, this time from a horrendous bout of coughing as Donna choked on a mouthful of kettle corn. Catalina paused, considered pounding on her back. Realized that even her gentlest efforts would probably fold the crotchety grandmother in half.
She got it under control on her own eventually, anyhow, washing the whole mess down with coffee that had gone so cold it had turned gray. Cat grimaced. "You okay, chica?"
"How the Sam-Hill-mother-of-FUCK did that go missing?! You know how long it took to synthesize that horsebugger's central processor?!"
Cat nodded lamely, hands clasped between her knees. "Two-thousan' four hundred twenty-two hours? He tol' me."
"Damn right! Seventeen weeks of overtime! I missed gettin' my New Years' sugar for that piece of crap! What happened?"
Cat shrugged. "Dunno yet. He's checking with security after he's done...theenking. Then he's calling the boss lady. Then he's calling SenTaxx to tell them we lost the contract."
Donna swore, coughed, drank some more coffee in slurping glugs before wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her labcoat. Slammed her thermos back down so hard the table rattled. "No way we can build a new one before the deadline, we'd have to start from scratch. Sounds like he's done cussin', though."
Cat tilted her head, listened. The shouting had stopped. She quickly stood up and made for the door while Donna cackled. "Gonna go wait outside his door again, chica?"
Cat only nodded, ignoring the taunt as she slipped out the door. "Ai, si! He migh' need my help!"
She was out of range of Donna's reply by the time the chemist had stopped laughing. It made no difference, though. She knew she was just a weapons tester with a GED and and a slip of paper proclaiming she had, once, passed a drug test. She'd rather be useless-but-trying than bitter-and-twisted. With a hairy chin.
Cat grimaced, hurried towards Brad's office. She really didn't like Donna.
ESI Labs only kept a tiny space for employee breaks and meals. There was a refrigerator, a microwave, a television, and couple of small tables ringed by mismatching chairs. The department was small, barely more than a dozen strong and rarely all working at the same times. It was late on a Friday night at the moment, so it was unusual enough that even Cat was punched in. But she hadn't felt up for the usual end -of-the-week partying: Tink had snatched Diego away from her last night, that heifer, and that meant she didn't really have anyone to get drunk with and talk about how awesome the Huxtable Autocannon was.
And it really was awesome. She hoped Diego got fleas for this.
The lounge was occupied, as it turned out. Donna, one of the chemists on staff, "eating dinner." Code for watching Friday Night movies, really. She'd probably been here for hours. She had barely looked up when Cat barged in, and now didn't even turn around. Just held out the bag of microwaved kettle corn she'd been wolfing down with greasy fingers and said "Heya" in her "I've-been-smoking-since-I-got-out-of-the-Dustbowl" voice.
"Brad still pissed?"
ESI Labs worked out of basements A6 and 7 of the Solvall. A giant space, bigger than most warehouses, filled to the brim with shelves and lathes and engines and other big, heavy pieces of very sophisticated junk that should, in theory, have been able to muffle the shouts echoing from the clear opposite side of the facility.
Catalina pressed her ear to the door. Her eyes, widened, shocked. Then she winced. "...maybe a little, si."
Donna grunted, kicked out a chair for Cat to sit down next to her in. Cat grimaced, because she secretly didn't like Donna -- everyone knew that -- but she didn't want to seem rude. She sat.
"Same old shit as all week, or did somethin' else go wrong?"
"He said that -"
Donna shushed her suddenly with a wave of one butter-battered hand. Pointed at the TV where a men's underwear commercial was playing. Watched, transfixed. When it was over she made a low whistle that caused the tiny hairs on her chin to quiver.
"Right, sorry, go ahead."
"He said that the ODIN prototype went missing, an' --"
Another interruption, this time from a horrendous bout of coughing as Donna choked on a mouthful of kettle corn. Catalina paused, considered pounding on her back. Realized that even her gentlest efforts would probably fold the crotchety grandmother in half.
She got it under control on her own eventually, anyhow, washing the whole mess down with coffee that had gone so cold it had turned gray. Cat grimaced. "You okay, chica?"
"How the Sam-Hill-mother-of-FUCK did that go missing?! You know how long it took to synthesize that horsebugger's central processor?!"
Cat nodded lamely, hands clasped between her knees. "Two-thousan' four hundred twenty-two hours? He tol' me."
"Damn right! Seventeen weeks of overtime! I missed gettin' my New Years' sugar for that piece of crap! What happened?"
Cat shrugged. "Dunno yet. He's checking with security after he's done...theenking. Then he's calling the boss lady. Then he's calling SenTaxx to tell them we lost the contract."
Donna swore, coughed, drank some more coffee in slurping glugs before wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her labcoat. Slammed her thermos back down so hard the table rattled. "No way we can build a new one before the deadline, we'd have to start from scratch. Sounds like he's done cussin', though."
Cat tilted her head, listened. The shouting had stopped. She quickly stood up and made for the door while Donna cackled. "Gonna go wait outside his door again, chica?"
Cat only nodded, ignoring the taunt as she slipped out the door. "Ai, si! He migh' need my help!"
She was out of range of Donna's reply by the time the chemist had stopped laughing. It made no difference, though. She knew she was just a weapons tester with a GED and and a slip of paper proclaiming she had, once, passed a drug test. She'd rather be useless-but-trying than bitter-and-twisted. With a hairy chin.
Cat grimaced, hurried towards Brad's office. She really didn't like Donna.