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Fathom's Phantoms Belonging

After joining Jeremiah's work crew Kyle had bounced around between different team members until he was finally placed with Jeremiah himself, the oldest, and likely most experienced member of the team. That meant, however, that Kyle would have to learn how to service an entirely new piece of equipment: algae oxygen cells. The work was not easy, and he was kept running all over the lower decks of Sigma Echo, but it was a small price to pay for being given a position in the station that provided him quarters he could share with Sherman.

Surprisingly, it took less than a week for him to gain a working understanding of the system and, after a week of Jeremiah's careful instruction, he felt just as comfortable with his new role as he ever had working on the survey team. The Dog, it turned out, was a very capable and engaging teacher. Jeremiah obviously knew his tech and made it easy to catch on. All in all, the Human was grateful to have such a skilled mentor.

Despite how smoothly everything was going, there were two objections Kyle had to his post. In the scheme of things they were minor, but he found them inconvenient nevertheless. First, the work schedule for the team was first shift, which meant it was 'earlier' than he was used to. Even though there wasn't a 'true' daylight schedule on board Sigma-Echo he couldn't help but equate First Shift with early-morning work. Secondly, and more important in his mind, Kyle rarely if ever managed to get any time working with Sherman.

Regardless, there was really very little he could complain about. The work was not difficult and permitted him numerous hours of engaging his mind in solving problems and improving operating efficiency. Jeremiah turned out to be a good work partner in that regard too as the Dog was usually the go-to person for problems that required a brain to solve. That gave Kyle many opportunities to use his applied knowledge to help the Pointer resolve whatever problem arose.

That was just another one of many things the Human had and come to appreciate about Jeremiah. The Dog was always quick with praise, and would tend to instruct to faults rather than berate for them. Although they easily spent six to eight hours together, Kyle realized that they meshed together well and that there was very little about his teammate that he found unacceptable. It was true that neither spent much time talking about themselves and chose instead to focus on work but, aside from that, Kyle was starting to feel like he was getting to know him.

Mid-way through their second week together the job proceeded just like any other. Kyle worked on the gas flow valve atop Tank B, the second of the six tank algae oxygen cell while Jeremiah calibrated the machinery and sensor array on the bottom. They did well--- they had done well since the beginning. A standard three person team usually managed to complete maintenance on a six tank algae oxygen cell in about four hours; Jeremiah and Kyle managed a two person maintenance in just over five. Having finally become comfortable with the equipment, the Human's questions during their lunch break changed from the usual 'what' and 'how' into the 'why' categories.

Kyle sat on the catwalk at the top of the tank with Jeremiah beside him. They were taking a lunch break, and he used the opportunity to ask a question that had been on his mind for some time. "If it takes up this much room why have algae on the station at all?"

Jeremiah chuckled before taking a bite of a particularly good looking ham sandwich; all Kyle had to eat was a nutrient bar made of suet, protien powder, and mixed grain. The Dog's response wasn't exactly an answer, and it had nothing to do with the question the Human had asked. "How's yer lunch?"

Kyle looked down at the reddish-brown, slightly damp, log-like 'meal'. Although he'd grown accustomed to eating the like on his survey trips it wasn't exactly his favorite. "It's... fine."

Jeremiah chuckled, tail wagging in good-natured fashion, and he tore his sandwich in half, handing a portion to the Human. "Guess ya don't much care fer machine-made food, huh? Yea... my standard rations are a mix'a'meats, some wheat, an' liver..."

Kyle accepted the half offered to him and looked in it. "This doesn't look like--"

The Dog's wagging stopped and he shook his head in distaste. "God, I hate liver..."

The Human nodded, accepting the piece of sandwich without a moment's hesitation, "Thank you."

The smile and wag returned. "Yea... don't mention it, kid. But, th' point is, ah spend a few credits ah get here-and-there t'get something better than th' crap th' machines make... and it's kinda th' same deal with th' oxygen cells."

Kyle looked from the sandwich to where the six large containers loomed beneath. "How so?"

Jeremiah finished off his remaining piece of sandwich. he wiped his paws off on his pants as he stood. "I guess ya COULD live off of machined air... but after awhile death doesn't seem like that bad of an alternative."

Kyle stood as well, countering acutely, with a smirk. "It isn't THAT bad. The oxygen scrubbers and filtration systems are a far cry from machine-designed food bars."

Jeremiah shrugged in response, "Alright... then let's assume that th' station has a big-time emergency an' we run low enough on power that we have t' sacrifice some a th' systems..."

The Human paused, going over the scenario in his mind. "Okay..."

The Pointer gave him a critical glance, "What's the minimum percentage a power required t' keep STP in a station a this size?"

Kyle considered the question. "Standard Temperature and Pressure in a station this size?"

Jeremiah nodded. " Right. How much power can they cut from life support an' still keep th' station livable?"

The Human did the math in his head, "Approximately fifty percent."

The Dog nodded with a smile. "Right. With a full crew accompaniment... just about, yea. With th' crew we got now we could probably drain it down to just under forty..."

Kyle's eyes went back to the algae tanks. "And... the algae?"

Jeremiah rapped his knuckles against the closest tank. "With these babies we can actually cut another 5-10% off of th' power draw and redirect it t' other purposes an' still make due."

The Human appraised the size of the vats against the benefit. "I'm still not sure it's worth all the space the algae pools take up."

Jeremiah laughed, and started down the stairs. "A non-believer, huh? Well... consider th' ham sandwich argument... and then consider th' emergency argument... AND..." he paused, glancing over his shoulder, "also figure what the station could do with th' extra energy when there ISN'T an emergency. We can function non-stop without a fully powered life support system an' even if they increase th' crew load we still have room fer growth."

Kyle digested the information the Dog had supplied, speaking up when they reached the bottom of the steps. "Except that only covers atmosphere and not waste disposal, doesn't it?"

Jeremiah laughed, giving the Human a firm slap on the back, "You've got a good head on yer shoulders, Kyle... yea... it doesn't cover waste disposal... which has its own failsafes an' fallbacks too."

"For being overloaded with too many people on board?"

The Dog nodded. "Thanks to the algae, yea. Extra nitrogen from th' waste can be filtered into th' tanks an' not just get rid of the nitrogen, but help increase our algae count at the same time."

Kyle shot Jeremiah a glance, unable to avoid being infected by his smile despite not getting a clear answer, "You're a big fan of the 'green stuff', aren't you?"

The Dog spoke proudly. "Can't overestimate th' importance a several hundred tons a organic matter.

From there, Jeremiah began explaining in depth just why the algae was worth so much of the station's floor plan. Despite Kyle having a passing understanding of biology and organic chemistry, a lot of it still went over his head.. The Human had to admit that, despite Jeremiah's casual speech and 'low-brow' dialect he really did know a lot about many different aspects of his job. When the Dog was finally done with the explanation Kyle let out a deep breath, "You know a LOT about this stuff..."

The Dog nodded, and headed toward the room's exit. "Have to... it's all kinda important if ya plan on taking care a it fer any amount a time."

The two walked on in silence for awhile as Jeremiah led Kyle down the hall. It wasn't until the Dog took a left rather than a right that the Human realized that his mentor obviously had a plan in his mind, "What's up?"

The Pointer smirked, opening the door and motioning Kyle in. "Ah was gonna ask ya th' same thing. Ah wanna know about you and th' Bull.."

The Human came to an immediate stop. "Sherman?"

Jeremiah motioned again, "Well? Git."

Kyle complied, then glanced around the break room to which he'd been led. It was a basic, simple affair complete with a half dozen chairs surrounding a circular table, two sofas, and a wall-length counter topped with a coffee dispenser. "What do you mean, me and Sherman?"

The Human turned to look back at Jeremiah, who was standing next to the door with an expression that definitively indicated that the Dog wasn't buying fake ignorance. "Ya like him."

Kyle took a seat at one of the tables, folding his hands on the fake-wood surface in front of him, "I mean... he saved my life... and he's a good guy... he's sweet, and caring, and he--"

One of Jeremiah's ears swiveled, but he kept his expression neutral despite the faint glimmer of humor in his eye. "Well, ah think you two DO make a cute couple... even if ya try'n keep it on the down-low."

The Human paused at that. "What are you saying, exactly?"

He leaned forward to slide a cup of coffee to Kyle, "Ah think ya tend to be a bit uptight about th' fact that you're doin' all this fer the sake a bein' t'gether.. he seems like a good enough guy an' we sure as all get out know you certainly are. Not many Humans with as good a resume as you would bother spendin' so much time with different Gens most folks'd consider a waste a time."

Kyle objected. "What do you mean? You're not a 'waste of time', Jeremiah... I can't think of anyone who's been able to teach me so much about... well... everything."

Jeremiah laughed in response, and took a sip of his own drink, "Yea... well... plenty a folks don't bother lookin' twice when they get a grip on my resume and see my past. Same goes fer just about everyone on our team... but you're willin' t'look past it and see what we can still offer. A guy like you needs somethin' goin' right fer 'im."

Kyle didn't precisely know what to say. "This team is--"

The Dog cut him off. "This team is a good team... but life's more'n a double-shift... there's still th' third shift... it's what we in th' business call 'down time'... an' havin' someone t' spend that time with is a mighty fine thing t' work for."

Jeremiah's frank announcement managed to warm Kyle in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. Was the Dog just buttering him up, or did he really see something there. "I think that's something everyone should be able to find... no matter where they look."

The Dog nodded, reaching out to pat the Human's hand. "An' ah agree too."

Kyle cleared his throat, uncertain as to the Dog's meaning. "So... you... do you like men... too?"

It was Jeremiah's turn to pause, but once he recovered from the question he let out a full-bellied laugh and slapped the table for good measure, "Jeez-us no... ah aim fer somethin' with two x chromosomes... but mosta us've been through enough in our lives that we all deserve someone who'll do right by us. Ah just think you happen t' be one a th' lucky sumbitches that found it."

Kyle nodded mutely, starting to understand the Dog's meaning. He opened his mouth to respond to the comment but Jeremiah's PCD sounded from within his pocket. "Hold on a sec, Kyle..."

The Dog excused himself, pulled the PCD data pad out of his front shirt pocket and pressed the button, "It's Jerry... go ahead, Wes."

The Gerbil's voice was professional, but held a hint of concern to it. "Do you know where Dmitri is?"

The Dog looked down at the PCD incredulously before replying. "He SHOULD be down workin' on th' flow valves beneath 7-D. Just buzz J'vil... they're on that project together."

There was a moment of silence before Wesley responded, "J'vill's here with me. They finished the refit a half hour ago but now Dmitri's running late for his injections."

Kyle paused at hearing that. "Injections?"

Jeremiah held up a finger to silence him, then continued talking, but not before putting his PCD on privacy mode and holding it up to his ear, "Well.. go ahead an' page him. Damn leopard should know he's due fer his HID... been takin' it long enough, god damn it."

Jeremiah was so deep in a scowl that the Human didn't feel inclined to get any clarification on the conversation; it didn't really involve him anyway. The Dog eventually closed up the conversation. "Well alright then If there's still a problem in a half hour lemme know... alright... sure-- an' get J'vil t'help ya if ya need... that's what he's there for.... alright... fine... yea... out."

Jeremiah disconnected with a sigh. "Ugh... LHI's got a good product, but th' maintenance is hell..."

Kyle settled for the most casual question he could think of. "Everything alright?"

The Dog offered a crass reply, but the smirk helped the Human realize it was in jest. "Looks like I'm headin' out t'find Dmitri... I swear, that leopard'd lose his nuts if they weren't stuck under his pecker."

"Do you need some help?"

Jeremiah nodded. "Yea.... ah might need a few extra eyes if ya feel like helpin' me look around fer him."

Kyle responded with a hesitant smile, testing out the Dog's humor for himself. "Just so long as we're looking for him and not his nuts."

The Pointer shrugged, standing up before finishing his coffee with one swig. "Eh... Find one an' you'll find th' other... if not, then we've got other problems."

Jeremiah winked, and the Human had to admit that it felt almost embarrassing to laugh at something so infantile but he laughed anyway... and it felt good.

* * * * * *

Despite her very vocal objections the security team didn't take kindly to Lydia accessing the station's primary data streams from the executive deck. Having only had two and a half hours to familiarize herself with the operating code without standard user firewalls, the young lady had a taste of the forbidden fruit... and wanted more. Unfortunately the block-headed hire-a-cops refused to listen to reason and summarily escorted her out of the corporate wing.

She had tried twice to reason with them, even offering to show herself to the tram station but they somehow managed to make even a Cytkus on oxygen overload seem reasonable in comparison; after the second attempt to get free of her dual escort she found herself with a gun pressed up against the small of her back. How was SHE supposed to know that accessing tier 1 data without clearance was such a big deal? Frankly, she figured, if it was THAT important they'd at least go to the trouble of securing it better.

With no other option but to comply, the Human programmer was shown back to the trams and put on a direct run back to her own deck level. Lydia's first inclination was to make a minor 'adjustment' to her destination but she quickly discovered that they had put a security override on controls. Although she was confident that she could bypass it if given the time she realized at that point that not only did they mean business, but she WAS starting to get tired... and bored. Mostly bored.

She awoke when a voice from her PCD declared "We have arrived at the station, Lydia."

She yawned, stretching before standing up. "Thank you, ALVIN."

The smoothly modulated voice of her custom-designed companion program provided her a chipper response. "You are very welcome."

Stepping off of the tram, she didn't miss the fact that it was taken immediately offline; apparently the station was still on security alert despite the several days since the VAC attack. For just the faintest moment she felt a little insulted that the security team didn't think highly enough of her to send her back to her apartment with an escort but, a half-second later, she realized that she wouldn't really have appreciated it.

Lydia walked herself back to her apartment then punched in the entry code. The door opened for her and she entered her small dorm. "Well... home sweet home... such that it is."

The physical size of her apartment was only a little larger than the room she'd had in her mom's house but the mental end emotional freedom was what she enjoyed the most... after all, less living space meant less cleaning needed to be done. She set down her travel typing bracer and began taking off her fingerless gloves. As she did so, the voice from her PCD spoke. "Lydia, I have begun recording from the video feeds for which you gained codes while within the Tier 1 access district."

The teenager began inspecting the remnants of reheatable food she'd stored in her mini refrigeration unit; she ended up settling on frozen burritos: her go-to staple. "Got it. Thanks."

"Would you like to view them?"

She tore open a packet and tossing it into the heating unit and pressed the button. "Yes, ALVIN. Thank you. Pull em up on my LDU."

Lydia glanced over to her Large Desk Unit monitor, giving the four different feeds a once-over before she pulled out her heated burrito. Starting in on her dinner, young lady sat down and took a more in-earnest look at the goings on of camera four: it was a view of the elevator leading to the bridge... and there appeared to be a small group gathered there.

It took a moment before she realized there was no sound to go with it. "Damn it. I gotta remember to patch into audio next time."

ALVIN cheerily volunteered to help. "I will add that to your personal planner, Lydia."

She peered closer at the screen, noticing someone different among the elevator passengers. "That Tiger isn't a regular on the Bridge. Gen 2... glasses... really prissy swish to his tail... he can't be new on board, could he?"

ALVIN's voice responded from the watch on her wrist. "I assume the question was rhetorical."

Lydia stood. "And they took him up to the bridge? That HAS to be some kind of breach in security... what were they THINKING?"

The wrist processor whirred and clicked, giving her custom-created companion program as much access as it wanted to the files she'd 'unlocked' during her stay on the station. "Records indicate that he came with the Vamos La Corporation assault squad, but it appears he is no longer listed as a threat on the information roster."

She stared at the monitor. "Wait a minute... the VAC? Not a threat? You remember what they wanted to do to YOU in your early days!"

The clicking and whirring came to an end. "DRC's rival corporation has very specific guidelines about foreign programs in their database. It is fortunate for both of us that DRC discovered you and was interested enough in your talents to recruit you."

Lydia sighed, taking a seat as she tapped away at her keyboard. "Yea... I guess so. Sure beats evading VAC corp sec in the Sol System..."

The computation device on her wrist beeped. "Lydia, is your intent to continue running my program with this limited processor?"

She fidgeted, sitting back up in her chair as he pulled a wire out from her personal data box and connected it to the wrist processor, "Oh... damn.... no. Let's get you uploaded and backed-up somewhere a little more comfortable."

ALVIN confirmed, "Upload in progress. Operation time estimated at one hour four minutes fifty two seconds."

Lydia sighed, unstrapping the wrist processor before dropping it onto the desk. "Damn this stupid slow last-gen tech."

ALVIN's voice came from the discarded watch. "Ow."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh shut up... even if you COULD feel pain there aren't any receptors on that processor."

The program's voice was full of levity. "It was an attempt at humor. Your vital readings suggest that you are tense."

"Since when can you read my--"

Lydia paused, then remembered she was still wearing his custom-made NSI electronic suit... and the Nervous System Integration suit's output didn't require a hardwire connection to ALVIN. "...oh riiiiiiiiiight."

ALVIN apparently saw fit to remind her. "You were unable to complete the test run due to the opportunity arising to explore files in the executive deck. If you wish I can clear some time in your schedule to initiate a--"

Lydia spoke over the program. "I'll just test it right now. Are you able to access the LDU to beef up your processing power?"

She slid a connector from the computer up under her clothing and linked it into her skin-tight suit.

ALVIN responded in an accomidating tone. "I will attempt a simple neuro-stimulus to find out, Lydia. Please let me know when you are ready."

The Programmer picked up the flimsy prototype headband he'd been working on. "Just a sec."

After settling the band down on her head, Lydia attached its wire into a slot just below the one leading to the computer, "Alright, Alvin... go ah--"

She lost her voice as the phantom feeling of pressure on her shoulders, akin to a firm massage. ALVIN's voice spoke up through the suit's I/O system, giving the impression that he was speaking from behind her. "The initial stimuli was successful?"

She giggled, just a little. "Yea... I felt that."

"I will attempt another series of--"

The young woman interrupted the program, an impish smirk riding across her face. "Let's step things up. Initiate the preset O-O macro."

"Lydia, I would advise against any complex--"

She repeated herself. "Initiate the O-O macro."

ALVIN relented. "As you wish, Lydia... initiating the Zero-Zero macro."

The Programmer rolled her eyes. "Don't call it 'Zero-Zero'... You need to call it OH-OH for it to make--"

She was suddenly unable to finish explaining as the feel of a strong-but-slim, svelt-but-still-masculine body wrapped entirely around her, squeezing her tightly... protectively... possessively. Lydia let out a gasp, no longer interested in continuing to talk as she felt teeth nibble their way up the back of her neck and, even though she was fully clothed, her mind had no problem being convinced that something thick, slick, and very hard was sliding up against the curve of her back.

Lydia ended up calling out the name of the O-O macro numerous times over the course of its several minute duration, but she was too lost in the moment to bother acknowledging the humor in it. In the end, she stood up, pulling at the sticky spot between her legs, "ALVIN..."

"Yes, Lydia?"

She fought to catch her breath, but managed to state "First... very good job on the O-O Macro..."

"Thank you, Lydia."

"And second... please add to the prototype notes, 'note to self: add fluid absorbant layer to the NSI suit.' and set it at high priority."

"Right away, Lydia."

The young lady nodded, "Good... Now, if you'll excuse me I really should go get cleaned up."

ALVIN acknowledged the statement with a simple confirmation beep, but quickly added. "If you like, we can snuggle a little first?"

"Wh--?"

Just as Lydia was about to respond, the program clarified. "That was another attempt at humor."