Regulations state that showers shall not take more than ten minutes, and even that is pushing it. There are even safeguards that prevent this, though they could be overridden. The best way to override it, however, is staying in an estate like my parents with three separate showers. And so I had taken three ten minute showers and felt the best I had in weeks.
My father had already left this morning, but my mother was around and gave me a big hug. She sniffed. I braced myself.
"Oh, you smell nice today."
I smiled. "Glad to hear it. I've got an intelligence briefing to get to."
She gave me a skeptical look. "With you looking as furry as that? Did you even shave today? You look like a bum."
"Mom, I'm going spy work. They want me to look like a bum."
"Hmm." Her dubious expression hadn't changed a bit. I rubbed the tangle of stubby hairs on my face, reflecting that she perhaps had a point.
"Well, anyway, I've got to go."
"I got a message just now that our daily water allotment is critically low. Do you know anything about that?"
I paused in the entryway as the electronic door slid open, and shrugged innocently. "Gotta go, mom."
It seemed to be a world apart up here in the Engineering Sector, and I vowed to never again take it for granted. The hard bunks. The cramped quarters. The gray walls, gray everywhere. Never mind all that, we had sanitation and health care. And while Sandstone had an ineffectual baron who took strongly-worded suggestions from the Imps, we had a man of our own who wasn't going to be pushed around. A man who knew science and history, and wouldn't let those other stuffy old Chiefs with their excessive respect for Regulations hold us back.
Yet it was disappointing, when I arrived at my assigned debriefing, to only be confronted with Vikalia, looking at me from across a conference table with the vaguely disappointed expression that I found so familiar.
"No Ackerman?"
"You know him," Vikalia said with a shrug. "He's campaigning again. The Auxiliary Power Heat Dispersion Sector is supposed to be a crucial swing district. Or so I'm told. I stick to intelligence work, it's a much less dirty business."
"Again? Didn't he lose twice now? It'll be the Section Chief until she dies. She might last until the end of the Journey."
"Well, that's the Sub-Section Chief for you. He's not one to let a failed election stop him from taking over." She eyed me for a moment. "That stays in this room, of course."
I shrugged. "Fine by me." I liked Ackerman well enough, and he ran our Sub-Section pretty well. He was a taskmaster to be sure, but things got done around here. And anyway, the Engineering Chiefs loved to make a big show about following the ancient art of democracy but they sure tended to keep the same last names decade after decade. Ackerman was a new man and I didn't see a thing wrong with upsetting the hierarchy. And me, from a blue blood family!
"He did speak highly of you," Vikalia said, looking as though she smelled something unpleasant. I knew it wasn't me... or, in a sense it was.
"Look, Vikalia. About-"
She shook her head. "No. We're keeping things professional. So let's skip to your report. Why did your copy of the Observer's journal suddenly come to an end? There's valuable intelligence material inside but the most recent entry is from months ago."
I chose my next words carefully, and leaned forward with what I wagered was a winning smile. Vikalia didn't look impressed, but once she had been. "Although my ingress was completely undetected, I could tell that one of the half-dozen heavily-armed guards was conducting a patrol through..."
"Ugh, save it. So you panicked and ran."
"That... that is my job."
She shrugged. "Well, speaking of jobs," she said, opening her data slate. "And the dirty business of politics. Ackerman made a special request for you to be assigned to this position."
I grinned as she handed me the data slate. It soon faded.
"You're joking."
"I've never joked," Vikalia said seriously. "A spot opened up for an Assistant Recycling Tank Transportation Technician in the Stern Recycling Tanks Sector. I'm told it's another crucial swing district, and Ackerman is entrusting you to deliver the district to him."
"So I'm hauling dung again."
"Oh, that's just for starters. You'll be distributing leaflets and flyers, and encouraging your new co-workers to do the right thing. And identifying any potential troublemakers." She shrugged. "You don't have to be dead to go into the Recycling Tanks."
"That's a tall order for... what is it? Assistant... Tech something?"
"Oh come now, don't sell yourself short. Didn't you just tell me how you evaded a squad of Imp guards?" She leaned back, a little smile on her lips. "You've caught the boss's eye, after all. Keep at it, and someday you'll be Chief Recycling Tank Technician."