Fired Up!

“Aveline Vida.”

The auditorium bursts into claps.

Mom gives me a thumbs up from the seats high up in the hall. Beside her, Dad aims at me with the QCam they bought for the occasion. I smile as widely as I can.

My foot doesn’t lift enough from the floor and bumps against the next step of the stairs. Luckily, it’s the last one and I manage to stumble back into balance.

The twelve suited people behind the long table keep clapping as I giggle my way across the stage. I shake their hands, including the coordinator of my degree and my favorite professor, who pats my shoulder.

After four years of tedious studying and excessive homework, the university’s chancellor puts the rolled, paper diploma in my hands.

“Congratulations.”

She offers her hand, but I wrap my arm around the back of her shoulders. Doing a peace sign, I grin at the camera in front of us.

The flash signals my freedom.

I run to the edge of the stage and jump off, bending my knees and raising my arms.

My feet land on the floor of reality and take me out of my daydreaming.

The holographic screen in front of me displays my updated status.

Graduate in engineering. Finally!

Something taps my shoulder.

“Excuse me, could you hurry up?” the woman behind me asks.

A hundred people, if not more, queue behind her. The lines for the other booths are just as long.

“Yes, sorry!”

I tap the X button on the top-right corner of the hologram and dash out of the campus toward the Qlev train station in front of it. I can barely squeeze into the car. At least I’m only carrying my smart glasses.

The train levitates through the main avenue. Buildings pop up out the door window one after another, some slim and boring, others huge and covered in colorful billboards.

They make way for the biggest ring-shaped lake on the continent. The sun, at its highest point, reflects off the water’s blue surface as the train crosses into the central district.

The buildings come back. They are scarcer and separated by trees, but they are taller, wider, and more eccentric with curved walls and more windows. Too many.

I rush out of the train and run away from the impending crowd. The tiny station opens to two paths: a substation for communal taxis, and an overpass.

Of course, I’m not gonna wait.

I sprint through the bridge enclosed with glass and jog down the stairs. I evade the people and the SweeperBots cleaning the sidewalk while repeating, “Sorry. Excuse me.”

Finally, I stand in front of the most luxurious apartment complex in the city. Not even bending my neck all the way back I can see the top of the four spiral towers, which take up the entire block.

The woman at the door holds it open and nods at me.

“Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” I smile.

I still find it weird that they replaced the automatic sliding door to hire someone, but it’s good for employment.

The same applies to the receptionist, who greets me from behind the desk in the middle of the enormous lobby.

“It’s great to see you again, Ms. Vida. They are waiting for you in the courtyard.”

“Already?! But I’m three minutes early!”

I run into the corridor.

“No running please,” the receptionist shouts.

I reach the courtyard in a snap. Seven robots, wearing the white uniform I’ll soon be wearing, stand in the middle. In front of them, the suited boss stares at me as I approach and stand beside the robots.

After a stern inspection, he claps once.

“Get to work, save for Ms. Vida.”

Huh?

The robots walk away in pairs toward the four spiral towers, except for one lonely robot.

The boss approaches and glares at me. Finally, his usual smile replaces the commanding aura.

“Time flies. It feels like you were tinkering with my car just yesterday.”

“School felt eternal for me,” I giggle. “Why did you dismiss everyone but me?”

“Their duties were uploaded to their memory; your brain doesn’t have such capabilities. Regardless, all information would have entered your ear and left through the other.”

“I’m not a stubborn little girl anymore, Uncle Ebram.”

He rubs my head aggressively but without hurting me, only my hair.

“True, you’re a stubborn woman now.” He stops. “To summarize, report and repair. Report any faults you see during your inspections and do the repair tasks you receive.”

“That’s easy.”

His stern glare returns. “Aveline, the order is important. No repairs before reporting them and receiving the task, got it?”

I straighten my back and salute. “Yes, Boss!”

“You haven’t changed,” he chuckles. “You’ll get today’s tasks in your glasses in a second.”

A tiny bell icon pops up in the corner of my vision.

He pats my shoulder. “It’s great to have you here. Good luck, and work hard.”

I smile at him as he walks away.

The sunlight coming between the towers lights the courtyard and warms my face.

I can finally see my future.

…

The day gets boring two hours later. All the pipes, electrical panels, and machines I inspect are in pristine condition.

Some of the robots report failures or potential risks, but they are assigned to fix them since they are the closest.

There’s nothing to do other than roam around, seeing the robots walk between apartments. I try chatting with them during lunch as they drink oil. They are friendly, but their personalities are too basic.

The day ends with nothing happening, and so do the next few.

A week passes.

I walk through the corridor of the twenty-third floor when a notification pops up in my glasses.

“A resident at apartment 21-6 is requesting repair of a personal item. Please review…”

The text cuts off, but it’s my chance to do something good at last.

The two elevators nearby are on different floors, so I head to the stairs and slide down the rails. I reach the twenty-first floor in ten seconds and run down the corridor to the door with the holographic sign displaying 21-6.

I grab the handle and pull it open to the side.

“Repair service is… here?”

One of my robot coworkers stands in front of me. I stare at its pixelated blue eyes.

“My fingers are stuck,” it says in its robotic voice.

“Sorry!”

I let go of the door. It slides back slightly to free the robot’s fingers from the handle hole.

“It’s fine, Ms. Vida.”

It walks past me and leaves.

I look at the elderly, hunchbacked man inside the apartment.

“I guess your problem was fixed,” I say.

“It wasn’t, actually. Something about missing access.”

“Oh. I can take a look at it.”

“That’d be lovely.”

He grabs a small, antique radio from the drawer beside him and hands it to me when I approach him.

“It stopped working a couple of days ago,” he says. “I already replaced the batteries, and…”

As he explains, I swipe the slot on my toolbelt until the hologram becomes a screwdriver. I tap the tip to switch the bit into the one that matches the size and shape of the screws on the radio. Once sure, I press the tiny button for two seconds and the screwdriver materializes from bottom to top at the trail of a blue light.

“I’ve owned it for eighty-nine years, so I know I should replace…”

I keep listening to him as I unscrew the back lid with the motorized tip. A tiny arm pulls the screws up the shaft to be stored for later.

As expected, it’s not a radio but a player emulating one. It’s an ancient model with copper wires, old-school circuit boards, and mechanical parts. I blow the dust off to get a better view of the pins and connections.

The man coughs.

“Sorry, I should’ve turned around!”

“No worries.” He clears his throat. “So, can something be done?”

My glasses recognize the model but don’t offer further analysis, though that won’t be necessary.

I fit my fingertip in the finger welding torch inside the bag on my toolbelt. By the time I aim the tiny nozzle at the loose connection inside the radio, the torch has charged enough with heat from the environment and blazes it into the copper. I keep the wire at a good angle to avoid future bending.

The copper is melted back into the pin within seconds, so I do the same with the wires that look worn out.

“Will the knob turn like before?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“As I just said, the knob used to get stuck before I took it to a shop for repairs. Now it’s too smooth and I can’t sleep while holding it because I keep changing the station.”

One glance at the circuits is enough to figure it out.

“Do you have a plastic box you don’t mind losing?”

He raises an eyebrow at the question before looking at the table. He takes a blister pack out of a tiny box and gives it to me.

I put the welding torch back in my bag and take out a cutter. I cut off a tiny slice of the box and stick it in the gear of the knob.

After some adjusting, I lift the radio in front of the man.

“Try it.”

He uses two fingers to turn the knob but gets stuck. Now with three fingers, the gear snaps into its next position.

The man’s eyes glitter. “And it makes such a wonderful sound too. Thank you very much, young lady.”

“You’re welcome!” I grin.

“Do I need to pay you?”

My mouth opens but my mind is empty.

“Good question,” I laugh nervously. “I’ll ask.”

My glasses recognize the commands from my brain to send a message with the question to my superior. Meanwhile, I put the lid back on the radio and teleport the screwdriver back to the storage.

I get a reply by the time I’m ready to leave.

“The cost of repair services for personal items will be added to the next bill,” I read out loud.

“Alright,” the man says. “Have a great day.”

“You too.”

The door closes behind me once I’m in the corridor. I hum my way through it when I get a message from Uncle Ebram.

“Please come to my office.”

Oh, does he wanna congratulate me in person?

“On my way,” I reply.

It takes a couple of minutes to get to the ground floor. I head to the lobby but turn toward the second-to-last door and knock on it.

“Come in,” Uncle Ebram replies.

The door slides open and closes when I step into the office. Uncle Ebram sits behind a white desk with round corners. He stops typing on the holographic keyboard and both it and the screen disappear.

“Take a seat,” he says.

“Do I have to?”

His silent glare is the answer.

I pull one of the two chairs in front of the desk and sit down. I bounce my feet on the ceramic floor and use my thighs as drums.

His stern look softens.

“I’ll cut to the chase. Aveline, you’re fired.”

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Edited by RedPandaChick