| The Washwater Incident - Unloading |
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Unloading (27/05/02 )
Jonathan Swift O'Malley looked down on the loading bay from a catwalk that stood some one story above it; he could see where the loading ship from a Krupp facility on Earth had landed. The bay doors that made up the bow of the ship were swung open and the loading crew was directing forklifts and work Meks in and out, retrieving large, metal crates inside.
His position was that of overseeing the main loading dock on Washwater. The thirty-six year-old saw it as a position with more prestige than it had, but for a man with no college education, it was a high ranking and high paying job. He had worked his way there from being a simple workman at one of Krupp's sea docks in his native Dublin, Ireland at the age of seventeen. In a job like his, things such as a degree and theory mattered little; the corporate executives wanted experience, and John O'Malley had loaded and unloaded cargo in every possible location and condition.
"There's more of them than I thought there would be," O'Malley said to a subordinate.
The subordinate glanced down. There were around three hundred crates to be unloaded; for a single, dismantled Mek, fifty to seventy-five was standard. "I don't know, boss. Maybe they're building more than one of those new things? Beowulfs?"
John looked at the papers on his clipboard, scanning them quickly with his eyes. "No, it says that we're just building one Beowulf. I'm not sure what it is."
"What should we do with them?" the subordinate asked.
"I'm putting in a call to Mister Banfield," the supervisor replied. "I have no idea what's going on." He turned and walked down the catwalk to a phone and picked it up, pressing in a short extension. It rang twice before it was picked up.
"Noah Banfield's office," a woman's voice replied.
"Hello, this is John O'Malley, down in loading," he said. "I've got a question for Mister Banfield."
His secretary paused for a moment. "Okay, Mister O'Malley. Let me patch you through."
The phone clicked off and rang a few times before it was picked up. "This is Banfield," the Australian accent of the special projects director said. "What is it?"
"Mister Banfield? This is John O'Malley, from loading," he said. "Something interesting here."
Noah's voice was slightly accusatory. "Has something gone wrong with the unloading, Mister O'Malley?"
A slight shiver ran down the supervisor's spine. Having an enemy of Noah Banfield was a bad thing; he could transfer men to the worst places, such as Krupp ports on the front lines or in hazardous areas. "No, sir, nothing has. It's just, this order seems awfully large for what you were talking about."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I see. There should be two sets of boxes, I believe another project was delivered with this one. Project K should go to station C-33, Project Y to station V-12."
"Understood, Mister Banfield," John replied. "We'll get to it." Noah hung up on the other end. He turned and looked at his subordinate. "All right, seems another project was delivered with the Beowulf project, Project Y. Tell the boys to seperate the two; K is going to C-33, Y to V-12."
"You got it, boss," the subordinate said. He moved to an elevator, waved, and then hit the switch so it descended to the loading bay below. O'Malley crossed his arms and looked onto the bay below; it was not unheard of for a project to be shipped without being listed on the pre-launch inventory, but it was still strange. The loading supervisor let a frown come to his face. Noah Banfield was right; there was something wrong with this unloading.
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