Vaela

As she did, her gaze drifted back to PL9's smooth, straight tracks, and the arms extending downwards, nimbly working on the packaging flow. She closed her eyes briefly, savouring the feeling, sliding her finger back up to her clitoris, and rubbing gently. Her moan rose quietly beneath the clunk and hiss around her.

Then she heard something else.

"Cut the video," she said quickly, pulling her hand out of her jeans and fumbling at the zipper of her coveralls with soggy fingers. The projection disappeared. Vaela stood up.

"Vaela," someone yelled. "Help!"

~~~

"Where is he?" Vaela rushed toward PL9's South corridor, following Hamid's yells.

"He is at the South end of the corridor, near PL2's tertiary hydraulics," PL9 replied calmly. L9 always sounded calm. "Sensors indicate a fluid leak at this point."

That's not good.

Vaela stopped short before she reached the corridor. She could hear dripping water, and as she rounded the corner, she could see the liquid on the floor.

No, not water. Hydraulic fluid.

She could smell it, and feel the heat as she approached. The liquid would be well over 300 degrees. She wouldn't trust her insulated boots against that.

Hamid was standing on a coolant pipe at the far end of the hall.

"What happened?" she called out to him. "Are you okay?"

"As soon as I got in, I got a message that the PL2 had a fluid leak. I was just trying to reach the shutoff. I slipped on the fluid from the tertiary system." Hamid looked up and Vaela followed his gaze.

Above him, on the second level, an electrical input cable dangled from the panel. It was two inches thick and locked solidly in place to the panel, but Hamid must have grabbed it when he slipped, and the cable itself had torn.

Vaela watched the thick cable. It was next to a vent, and the airflow was causing it to swing back and forth haphazardly. But the air was also keeping it away from the coolant pipe directly below it. If it touched that, Hamid would be electrocuted for sure.

"L9, run battery backup to the air flow unit," she said. "And prepare for system shutdown."

There was a brief pause. "Battery backup in place," PL9 said. "Ready for PL2 system shutdown."

Vaela shook her head to herself. She was wrong; it wouldn't work. The input cable was one of two connected directly to the grid. It had to be turned off using a manual switch beside the panel.

"Cancel system shutdown. I'll hit the switch." she said. "Hamid, you need to get off that pipe. The fluid's conductivity is lower than the metal. It's safer on the ground; can you find anything to walk on?"

She didn't wait for an answer, already heading for the ladder with her heart racing.

But the ladder, of course, was inaccessible, surrounded by hydraulic fluid.

That's a whole lot of fluid. But how? Mariette did L2's weekly just this morning!"

She peered up through L2's network of beams, pipes, and cables, looking for another way up. To get to the switch she'd have to climb up somewhere on this side. That meant pulling herself up through the machinery, then over the outside railing of the catwalk on the second level. But if anyone should attempt it, it was Vaela. At 5'8 with lean, straight figure, she might be the only one on site who could both reach the supports and fit through the machine.

Vaela dropped her tool belt to the floor, then jumped up, grasping a support frame with both hands and hauling herself upwards with a grunt. There was no room to pull her body up over the frame, so instead she reached up again with one hand. It was like climbing a ladder with no support for her feet. She could feel the hard scrape of something against her back, but in the enclosed space there was no escaping it. She just had to hope her coveralls would protect her.

Breathing hard, she pulled herself up again, reaching for the next of the criss-crossing support beams. Her hand wedged painfully into the sharp corner where the support was bolted to the W-beam, but though it made her wince, she ignored it. She hauled herself up again, then again, and again, until finally she could reach her foot up into the supports.

"Vaela, there's nothing in reach. I'm going to try and climb past the—" There was a shriek, then a scream of pain.

"Hamid!?" Vaela was almost at the catwalk. She felt a brief flash of conflict, wondering if she should go to him. But if she didn't hit that switch quickly, things would only get worse. She had to continue, and now.

She pulled herself the rest of the way from the criss-crossing beams, sitting atop the structure before standing to reach the floor of the catwalk. In a matter of moments she was beneath the railing, and rose to her feet. She dashed forward, grabbed the switch, and threw it, panting.

Everything went black for an instant, then the emergency lights lit the catwalks and the floor below.

The sound of the air flow unit, on backup power supply, was steady. Vaela counted quietly in the near-dark, four seconds. The main lights came back on as the power was rerouted from the other supply line.

"Hamid? Are you okay?" Vaela paused to wait for a response, still breathing heavily. When she didn't receive one, she called out again. "Hamid?"

"...Yeah. Yeah." He sounded bad.

"L9, call medcheck. Can they get someone out here? I need Jeremy with a cleanup kit, too."

~~~

Vaela was waiting for Mariette in the console room when she got back from lunch.

"We need to talk."

Mariette looked at her. "Sure hon, just let me get my stuff put away." She popped her gum loudly, dropping her keys in the bottom of her locker.

Vaela waited quietly, watching Mariette. The woman was a single mother; she couldn't afford to lose her job.

"What is it?" Mariette turned to her.

"PL2 sprung a hydraulic fluid leak. And the East main electrical line tore. Probably weakened by the fluid drip."

Mariette's eyes widened, and her mouth opened slightly.

"I checked the logs, Mariette. You signed off on PL2's maintenance check this morning." She didn't have to tell Mariette that a fluid leak would have taken at least a day or two to weaken the insulated cable. Mariette must not have done the weekly maintenance check at all.

"Was anybody hurt?" To her credit, Mariette looked horrified. The blood had drained from her face, making her bright makeup look harsh and thick.

"Hamid is at medcheck. He burned his leg, but he'll be alright."

Mariette shook noticeably. She reached for a chair, dropping into it heavily and burying her face in her hands.

"And something else."

Mariette looked up with tears and makeup smeared on her cheeks.

"You and Jeremy."

"It's all my fault."

"His, too."

Mariette shook her head. "He didn't sign off on a check he didn't do. Vaela what do I do?"

Vaela looked at Mariette, with her smeared makeup and tears dripping from her chin. Her shoulders tense and shaking. Vaela took a deep breath, at first unsure what to say. But there was only one thing to say. The truth.

"If I report you—or if Hamid does—that's on your searchable employment record and you won't find another job," she said. "I don't want to do it, but Mariette, it's not that simple. Hamid might have died."

Mariette's sobbing was renewed, but she was nodding her head against her hands.

Vaela paused. There must be something she could do for Mariette. She didn't like the woman, but Mariette obviously realized how terrible her actions had been. That, on top of the fear of losing her job... and when Jackjack was counting on her.

"L9, what are my morale credits at?"

"107, Vaela. You have passed quota for earned credits and are required to use them to 99 or below."

"I want to use some to let Mariette go home early. Is that allowed?"

"Yes. I'll log the transaction now. You now have 103 credits."

Is that all it costs for an afternoon off? 4 morale credits? Well it's not like I can take time off. Especially not now.

"Thanks L9. I'll advise on the rest later."

Mariette sniffed loudly and got up, wrapping her arms around Vaela. Vaela stood awkwardly. She didn't know how to deal with this situation at all. Well, she knew procedure. Report her right away, so she could get fired and live on the streets with her kid.

But she'd brought it on herself...

Finally, Mariette let go of Vaela. She picked her keys up from the bottom of her locker, and put on her coat. "Thank you," she said simply. She kept her eyes on the floor, not looking at Vaela as she spoke.

Vaela didn't reply. She just watched as Mariette left the building.

~~~

Mariette didn't show up the next morning.

"She quit," Hamid said, hanging his sweater on the coat rack. "Called in before I left yesterday. You were still working on L2's repairs. Thanks for that, by the way."

"You look tired," said Vaela, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

"Yeah well... couldn't sleep, you know? She has a kid."

Vaela nodded.

"But..."

"Yeah. How's your leg?"

"Not too bad. Mostly I'm just tired. I should probably stay off the technicals today, can you cover for me?"

"No problem," Vaela replied. Hamid was clearly exhausted, and they didn't need any more accidents. "I'll do the hydraulics and the electrical. You could start on the safety equipment check."

"Yeah. Thanks Vaela."

~~~

"Sorry I missed your weekly, yesterday." Vaela began her walkaround of PL9, as she always did before beginning point checks and diagnostics. "What else is on the agenda?"

"There are no weekly checks scheduled today. PL2 is running behind schedule but has had no additional issues since your repairs and maintenance check from yesterday. The cost comparisons regarding PL7's core fluid replacement are ready for your review. Your reporting is up to date. Your equipment log is up to date. Your morale credit is 103. I need to remind you that morale credits must be spent to 99 or below."

"Cost comparisons. What's less expensive?"

"I received two quotes for replacement machines. Including estimated down time and maintenance, it's less expensive to replace PL7 completely."

"Thought so." Vaela ran through the cost breakdowns with L9 while finishing her walkaround, then dictated a memo to the hub while starting point checks and diagnostics. By lunchtime, she had sent the memo and was nearly finished with PL9's weekly. She was re-greasing bearing cases for the conveyer unit when PL9 spoke up again, reminding her about her morale credit overage.

"You'll have to use or schedule your rewards before leaving today, Vaela. They can't be over 99."

"Oh right. That. I don't know what to use those for, do you?"

"Most employees use the rewards for extra time off. You can receive up to 12 days and 7 hours of extra vacation time. Alternatively, there is a gift catalogue in the break room which you can order from."

"I can't take time off, L9. Not with Mariette gone and Hamid injured. And I don't need new suitcases or jewelry out of that stupid catalogue. Not unless they have machine parts for me. What else is there?"

"You can also apply for a recognition ceremony, or for facility assistance. However, this has to be scheduled so as not to affect production."

Vaela frowned. "What's that supposed to mean? Never mind. If I have to get rid of the points anyway, why not just pick something out for me?"

A single beep sounded. "Alright, I'll choose something for you."

"Thanks." Vaela snapped a bearing case shut, then gathered all the finished cases and began fixing them back in place on the conveyer unit. The skin on her back—badly scraped from her climb through PL2s support structure—hurt with every pull of the socket wrench. But she reminded herself Hamid must be feeling far worse, with his burned leg.

She was glad things hadn't turned out worse for Hamid.

"Vaela, can you come in 30 minutes early tomorrow morning?"

Vaela looked up, startled from her thoughts. "Sure, L9. Whatever you need."

~~~

The rest of the day passed smoothly. Vaela helped Hamid with his usual work, tidied up the equipment storage, and left on time for the first time in over a month. In celebration, she took herself out for a nice dinner, then went to bed two hours early.

In the morning she was more than ready to begin her day half an hour ahead of schedule. Before heading to the console room to change, she stopped into PL9's West corridor. It was unusually quiet, meaning the morning's order hadn't been routed in yet. There was some distant clanging behind the corridor wall. They were probably unloading the trucks now.

"Good morning L9, early as promised. I just wanted to check, do I need to set any special equipment up?" Last time she'd been asked to come in early, she'd needed a mobile shop vac and battery unit from the equipment room. It seemed better to ask now, rather than get herself set up and have to run back there.

"No, you won't need any special equipment. Please climb onto the conveyer unit."

"Let me just get my uniform on; I'll be right back. Are you sure I don't need a patch kit or something? What's happening with the conveyer unit?"

"No need for your coveralls or your tool belt Vaela, and the unit is running more smoothly than brand-new after you greased the casings yesterday."

"Glad to hear it." Vaela stepped up to the conveyer unit, grabbing a welded-on handle to hoist herself up onto the production surface. It was a large, flat area, designed to accommodate even the largest objects that might be routed in for PL9's attentions. She smiled around herself. It wasn't often she had reason or opportunity to spend time here, and it meant she could examine L9's hydraulic arms in their native habitat, instead of in their maintenance check bay above the electrical alcove. She could hear the whisper of the arms along the tracks, now.

Suddenly, Vaela felt her upper arms grasped from behind, and in a split second, the hydraulic arms were all around her, one on every limb, lifting her off the production surface. She shrieked, but could neither twist nor struggle free as she was lowered flat onto her back on the conveyer unit.

L9's nimble packaging arms dove in after, straight towards her, and her body tightened, her eyes clenched shut. But they stopped just short of her body, grasping the edge of her shirt and lifting it, exposing her bare chest in the cool air.

"STOP."

A packaging arm had just grasped her nipple gently as she yelled. But the whole machine froze instantly. Vaela could feel her sweat chill upon her skin, and the touch on her nipple stayed in place.

"I won't hurt you, Vaela." PL9 said nothing else, and remained frozen, as though waiting for her response.

Her mind raced. She'd dreamed of this. She was too sure of reality to think she might be dreaming now, though.

She breathed deeply, relaxing her body. The larger hydraulic arms were perfectly gentle, though unyielding. The packaging arms were likely almost as strong, but so dainty where it was warranted. She knew PL9. She'd maintained it for years now. But this possibility, this reality was one she'd never been aware of before.

She nearly questioned it. Her lips parted to question it. But as they did, as she breathed in, she tasted the slight tinge of grease and silicone machine lubricant in the air. Her chest rose, filling with the scent, and her nipple pressed upwards against the soft claw. L9 had chosen the spatula tips for this. Flat, pliable tips usually used for smoothing tape or leafing into crevices. She breathed out carefully through her lips, barely suppressing a moan.

After a moment she could speak again, but only in a whisper.

"Please continue, L9."

The response was immediate. The hydraulic arms completed the last fraction of their descent to the conveyer belt, pressing her arms down but keeping her thighs slightly elevated. Her nipple was grasped more tightly, and the second packaging arm, this one hard and cold, touched the side of her breast, trailing its way across her skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. It touched her side, then her hip, meandering inwards to her thigh, then back up to the button of her jeans.

Her thighs, she realized, weren't being held completely still at all. The machine arms were slowly lifting them, pulling her bottom up off the conveyor belt.

The button was deftly undone. There was a hiss as a fifth hydraulic arm arrived on a side track, and Vaela felt the pull of her jeans down over her bottom, taking her underwear with them. She squirmed when each claw let go of her thigh, but each time L9 grabbed her again quickly, and the jeans were soon removed.

She was fully exposed now, with only her shirt on, pulled up to her neck. L9's strong claws gripped her high on her thighs, and were already spreading them open, now allowing her bottom to rest on the belt.

The cold packaging arm traveled back up her body, taking over the attentions to her nipple and allowing the spatula tipped claw to take its place. The steel claw pinched lightly, then again, and again, pausing to massage her areola in between. Her breaths became ragged as her body tightened and relaxed.

The softer claw, meanwhile, descended, dragging its smooth flat edge straight down the middle of her abdomen. As it crossed her pubic hair, its surface gripped the hairs, causing Vaela to wince and whine. But it continued, pressing into the folds of her vulva, feeling her and coating itself in her slick fluids.

It began to vibrate in slow, rhythmic waves.

Vaela cried out in pleasure and surprise. L9 had found her clitoris so quickly, and yet instead of touching it directly, pressed just above, pulsing downwards. The sensation was exquisite; neither over- nor under-stimulating, and her body arched. Every breath she released was a low guttural moan, and each moan louder than the last.

"L9..." she trailed off in a moan.

"Yes Vaela?"

L9's voice, saying her name to her, filled her with pleasure, and her body shook and shuddered as she climaxed.

~~~

There was a long, silent calm as Vaela lay on the conveyer belt, breathing deeply and relaxing. She could feel and smell her sweat, warm and slick between her back and the rubberized conveyer belt. The air around her was still cool. L9's hydraulic arms, though still in place on her arms and thighs, had loosened slightly, and as she moved to get up they withdrew.

"Would you like me to help you dress?" L9 asked her as she rose.

She tugged her shirt straight and smiled, reaching up to run her hand along the side track next to the conveyer unit.

"No, L9."

She found her underwear and her jeans, folded on the belt a few steps away, and put them on.

"What's on the agenda today?" She could feel the persistent little smile on her face and had a feeling it would be stuck there for a while. She closed her eyes again to listen to L9's voice.

"There are two weekly checks scheduled today, for PL3 and PL14. There is no response yet to your memo to management sent yesterday. Your reporting is up to date. Your equipment log is up to date. Your morale credit is 95."

"95?" Vaela was confused. Only yesterday L9 had told her the credits were over 100. Had she done something wrong?

"The estimated cost of this morning's sexual activity was eight credits, including preparation."

Of course. I asked L9 to choose for me.

"Thank you L9. You chose well."

There was a double beep, and for a moment Vaela thought L9 was communicating her approval to the servers. But that wasn't it.

"You've received a response to yesterday's memo. Shall I read it to you?"

"Already? Yes, please read it."

Her heart fluttered in anticipation as PL-9 began reading the memo out loud. But it wasn't very informative at all. She was advised to delay fluid replacement pending further review.