[Time: Shortly (and we mean *shortly*) before the SOS-con announcement.]
Somewhere, a man placed a call to a company located in Washington.
High above the paciifc ocean, someone answered...
***
"Winter Media Services, how may I help you?" As I spoke, the van's computer took my words, remodulated them into a rather chirpy female voice, and scrubbed the background noise. The overall effect was... well, moderately disturbing for me to listen to, but it presented the necessary image.
"Just one moment... Yes, Mr. Howard, your order is on schedule for pickup this friday, barring any unforseen circumstances."
"You want to expand your order by 30%? I'll need to check with production on that, please hold on."
At this point, I would normally put the line on hold for long enough to make them think I was actually doing something, then respond affirmatively. But before I could do that I was interrupted by a flashing red bar on the left of the windshield. I read the message, sighed, and reopened the line.
"I'm sorry, but we're already at full capacity for the rest of this week. ... Yes. Yes. The additional units can be ready next thursday. ... Yes. Thank you for choosing Winter Media Services!"
As soon as the bar indicating an open groundside call vanished, I sighed. "Okay, Irene, why exactly did you tell me to *not* do something that would make us more money on this deal?"
A window opened off to the side showing Irene's blue-haired visage. "Someone called a Convention."
I was unimpressed. "So?"
"So, you couldn't do the larger order and still make it to the con on time."
"So?"
Irene's ears twitched. "Look, an out of schedule Con probably means something unusual is going on. And last time I checked, you seemed to care about that sort of thing. And besides, there'll probably be some more of those obscure-stuff panels you like so much. SO STOP ACTING LIKE IT DOESN'T RELATE TO YOU ALREADY!!"
I winced. "Okay, okay, just stop yelling... We -will- have time to do the original order first though, right?"
"If we don't waste time, we should be able to finish up and get there before the rush. I'm already warming up the machine."
"Just don't forget to open the garage for me."
"Very funny. Irene out."
***
I checked over Irene's timetable while heading back to the Hofwell's Field. She was right, we could manage it, but the timing would be tight. So instead of taking a break (or a nap) the way I usually do after a trip downside, I started unloading my cargo immediately.
When I unloaded them from the van, they looked like seamless blocks of plastic. In a certain sense, that was even what they were. As each one slid into it's place in the machine, it's sides melted away, leaving behind a more delicate structure that supported it's contents while leaving them accessible.
And you know, it's not even the weirdest way of transporting blank discs I've run into. Proof that not everything bizarre needs to have plotdevite behind it. Admittedly, I like my method better.
Once that was finished, I went back to the van for the master discs the customer had sent us, while Irene started the motors that set the side panels in place.
A monitor labeled 'Irene only' lit up, showing Irene watching curiously as I put the discs into the read drives. "So, what is it this time?"
I checked the paperwork that was in the zip-folder with the master discs, then frowned. "I have absolutely no idea."
"Well, I guess I'lll find out soon enough. Loading..." Irene's eyes closed, then slowly slid open, her arms spreading wider as an imaginary wind ruffled her hair... then suddenly stopped. "Eeeeewww!"
"What?"
"Look at this!" Irene put an image up on the auxillary monitor.
I stared at it for a moment, tilting my head to look at it from different angles, trying to figure out what the heck I was actually looking at. Then, all of a sudden... "Eeeewww!!"
"Do we really have to do this one?"
I sighed. "As a professional dvd replication service with a reputation to maintain, Winter Media Services must provide it's best effort on even distasteful jobs, until and unless someone gives us an excuse to set the law on them... and can you take that off the screen please?"
"That's easy for you to say. *I'm* the one who has to run the duplicator here."
"Um... try not to look at it?"
"Fine. But you'd better really appreciate this," she said, and scrunched her eyes shut.
I quickly turned to watch the exterior monitors. Normally Irene is fully aware of everything around the Field regardless of what her icon looks like, but when she makes that face, it usually means she's not seeing anything for the duration. I didn't really expect anyone to ram us; most people pay closer attention than that in the inner system. But there was no reason to take chances. Besides, looking the other direction would soon be very uncomfortable without sunglasses. Yeah, even though the machine itself is light-tight.
The overhead lights went out. Strange light patterns flickered across the walls. It looked a bit like what a few hundred photocopiers in a disorganized heap might project if they were all set off at once. I've never really understood why; the machine doesn't have that much in common with them. It doesn't really have that much in common with dvd drives either, really, despite being made from parts from them.
The lights turned back on, and Irene opened her eyes again. "... Eeeeeww."
I sighed and brushed the side of the monitor with my hand. Distracted from her indignation, Irene rubbed up against the side of the screen and purred.
One run down, four more to go... It was going to be a long day.
Somewhere, a man placed a call to a company located in Washington.
High above the paciifc ocean, someone answered...
***
"Winter Media Services, how may I help you?" As I spoke, the van's computer took my words, remodulated them into a rather chirpy female voice, and scrubbed the background noise. The overall effect was... well, moderately disturbing for me to listen to, but it presented the necessary image.
"Just one moment... Yes, Mr. Howard, your order is on schedule for pickup this friday, barring any unforseen circumstances."
"You want to expand your order by 30%? I'll need to check with production on that, please hold on."
At this point, I would normally put the line on hold for long enough to make them think I was actually doing something, then respond affirmatively. But before I could do that I was interrupted by a flashing red bar on the left of the windshield. I read the message, sighed, and reopened the line.
"I'm sorry, but we're already at full capacity for the rest of this week. ... Yes. Yes. The additional units can be ready next thursday. ... Yes. Thank you for choosing Winter Media Services!"
As soon as the bar indicating an open groundside call vanished, I sighed. "Okay, Irene, why exactly did you tell me to *not* do something that would make us more money on this deal?"
A window opened off to the side showing Irene's blue-haired visage. "Someone called a Convention."
I was unimpressed. "So?"
"So, you couldn't do the larger order and still make it to the con on time."
"So?"
Irene's ears twitched. "Look, an out of schedule Con probably means something unusual is going on. And last time I checked, you seemed to care about that sort of thing. And besides, there'll probably be some more of those obscure-stuff panels you like so much. SO STOP ACTING LIKE IT DOESN'T RELATE TO YOU ALREADY!!"
I winced. "Okay, okay, just stop yelling... We -will- have time to do the original order first though, right?"
"If we don't waste time, we should be able to finish up and get there before the rush. I'm already warming up the machine."
"Just don't forget to open the garage for me."
"Very funny. Irene out."
***
I checked over Irene's timetable while heading back to the Hofwell's Field. She was right, we could manage it, but the timing would be tight. So instead of taking a break (or a nap) the way I usually do after a trip downside, I started unloading my cargo immediately.
When I unloaded them from the van, they looked like seamless blocks of plastic. In a certain sense, that was even what they were. As each one slid into it's place in the machine, it's sides melted away, leaving behind a more delicate structure that supported it's contents while leaving them accessible.
And you know, it's not even the weirdest way of transporting blank discs I've run into. Proof that not everything bizarre needs to have plotdevite behind it. Admittedly, I like my method better.
Once that was finished, I went back to the van for the master discs the customer had sent us, while Irene started the motors that set the side panels in place.
A monitor labeled 'Irene only' lit up, showing Irene watching curiously as I put the discs into the read drives. "So, what is it this time?"
I checked the paperwork that was in the zip-folder with the master discs, then frowned. "I have absolutely no idea."
"Well, I guess I'lll find out soon enough. Loading..." Irene's eyes closed, then slowly slid open, her arms spreading wider as an imaginary wind ruffled her hair... then suddenly stopped. "Eeeeewww!"
"What?"
"Look at this!" Irene put an image up on the auxillary monitor.
I stared at it for a moment, tilting my head to look at it from different angles, trying to figure out what the heck I was actually looking at. Then, all of a sudden... "Eeeewww!!"
"Do we really have to do this one?"
I sighed. "As a professional dvd replication service with a reputation to maintain, Winter Media Services must provide it's best effort on even distasteful jobs, until and unless someone gives us an excuse to set the law on them... and can you take that off the screen please?"
"That's easy for you to say. *I'm* the one who has to run the duplicator here."
"Um... try not to look at it?"
"Fine. But you'd better really appreciate this," she said, and scrunched her eyes shut.
I quickly turned to watch the exterior monitors. Normally Irene is fully aware of everything around the Field regardless of what her icon looks like, but when she makes that face, it usually means she's not seeing anything for the duration. I didn't really expect anyone to ram us; most people pay closer attention than that in the inner system. But there was no reason to take chances. Besides, looking the other direction would soon be very uncomfortable without sunglasses. Yeah, even though the machine itself is light-tight.
The overhead lights went out. Strange light patterns flickered across the walls. It looked a bit like what a few hundred photocopiers in a disorganized heap might project if they were all set off at once. I've never really understood why; the machine doesn't have that much in common with them. It doesn't really have that much in common with dvd drives either, really, despite being made from parts from them.
The lights turned back on, and Irene opened her eyes again. "... Eeeeeww."
I sighed and brushed the side of the monitor with my hand. Distracted from her indignation, Irene rubbed up against the side of the screen and purred.
One run down, four more to go... It was going to be a long day.