Tunnel Rat

Chapter 194: Going in Style

Chapter 194: Going in Style

Butch opened the door to Yumi's insistent knocking, and she barged past him, towing Ghost behind her. "Emergency. Ghost never saw the Matrix. We need your copies to watch." Butch slowly turned and yawned. He'd been up late with Brad and Kenji playing games and filling out paperwork. All three of them were seventeen and applying for the Manpower program that their fathers were working in. Butch had been woken by his younger brother and sisters and had only gotten three hours of sleep. Brad and Kenji were slumped in a corner, still snoring, despite attempts by the younger children to wake them. They each had siblings at home and were used to the treatment.

Butch pointed to a cabinet on a wall overflowing with games and videos stored on various media types. He turned to Ghost. "Hungry? Mom is trying out the new recipes from the food processor. The first attempt didn't go well."

Milo headed to the food processor to take a look. He'd just programmed the new recipes three hours ago and tested them. There was a mess on the floor that one child was cleaning up. Half-cooked pink waffles were pouring out of the processor. Milo entered an override code to stop the order. Butch's Mom gave him a calculating look. "How about I clean this up, and Butch can loan you his laptop? I know this isn't something you can easily fix, but maybe take a look at it?" Milo turned, and Butch was already handing him the ancient laptop and pushing a stool for him to sit on. Challenge accepted.

The problem was in how poorly the timing of the system operated. The food processor was declaring the waffles to be done when the outer layer looked cooked and then dumped the strawberry flavoring on top instead of putting it in a separate bowl. It took Milo an hour to fix things. He set up a separate partition of recipes that he 'suggested' to the system and programmed a more robust process for cooking. For the moment, he took these recipes out of the master menu. If you asked for waffles, you'd still get them. But you had to know to ask. He could check in a few days to see how things were running. After things were fixed, he started pulling plates of golden brown waffles from the machine, followed by bowls of simulated strawberry puree. The smell finally roused Kenji and Brad. The little ones were fed first, and then Momma chucked them outside to play by the glowytree. There were other families there, several adults watching as the children played with an old ball and made up their own games.

Butch's oldest little sister, Minerva, refused to go. She was thirteen and was close to her big brother, and not happy at all about his plans to go to work. "Daddy's gone all the time. Now you'll be gone. And you're taking Brad and Kenji with you. I'll have to babysit constantly, no one will play games with me, and I'll be alone." Butch put her on his lap and stuck a waffle in her mouth.

"Sorry, little Min. I don't want to. But who knows how long this job is good for? Mom and Dad still owe money for the school Dad went to when he was little. This will help pay things off and buy some nice stuff. You'd like a new dress, wouldn't you?" Minerva started crying and buried her face in his shoulder. No, a new dress was not a fair trade for a big brother.

Milo was sitting on the couch while Yumi cursed and tried to get a stubborn copy of The Matrix to load and play on the old TV set. He hadn't considered the changes that jobs in the habitat might bring. They were a good thing. People could work and get paid. But being gone six days out of seven put strain on families. Sometimes family was all you had in the Hab. Some of the people working for manpower didn't even take that one day off and were scheduled to work straight through for months. And he knew other corporations made their workers stay online for a full five years!

How they were paid made longer stays in the VR pods more popular. Butch's Dad was earning 200 credits a week. Someone who only took one day a month off made close to 300 a week, and the five-year contracts made a substantial lump sum payment at the end, with bonuses for meeting quotas. Milo knew that Butch's family was larger than most in the habs. The average number of births was 4.6 per couple, with 2.9 of those people reaching adulthood and an adjusted population growth of 3% per decade. Besides Butch, the family included Minerva, Thaddeus, Jeff, Liza, Robert, and Sinclair. The three youngest were actually cousins, and Milo had never heard what happened to their parents.

Milo stood up suddenly. "I have to go."

Mamma was upset. "You barely ate anything? How are you going to grow when you don't eat."

Butch was used to Ghost taking off suddenly, but his friend had been getting better about it lately. "We were going to talk about that party. Are you going with us? It's in two days."

Milo paused at the door. "That works. I'll be back soon. Stay here." He slipped out the door, ran to an abandoned corridor, slipped into a ventilation duct, and disappeared.

Butch put a hand on Yumi's shoulder. "Don't sweat it. I've seen him do this before. He thinks of something and has to run off and get it out of his system. Grab some waffles, and I'll find a better copy of The Matrix."

Francis DeYoung understood the mysterious pyramid that was the Manpower Organizational Chart. According to that chart, he worked as an assistant accountant in the payroll department. But for the last two months, he had been 'unofficially' been promoted to personal assistant to Belinda Sabbatino. He was also unofficially making three times his old salary. This was fair since he worked 80 hours a week to get things ready for the media zoo that Belinda called 'the party.' Today he was squeezing the budget to find a way to afford everything left on the list and failing. The food budget had been nixed by John when he needed money to fix the sound system. It hadn't helped that someone had made great suggestions for what food they should serve. Belinda had loved the ideas, but he had no way to pay for all of it now.

The ping of an incoming email made him look over to see what miracle someone wanted now. 'From: Claw Master Inc. Subject: Possible event sponsorship' He opened it immediately.

Good day, sir. We hope you are in good spirits and as excited about the upcoming event as we are! Our company is relatively new, and we only recently heard about your Multi-Media Gaming Extravaganza. Holding it in a habitat and gaining grassroots exposure for new games and gaming technology is a novel idea. We know that your event chose your sponsors long ago, but we would like to know if there is room for us. We would appreciate a reply, at your earliest convenience.

Francis had never heard of the company. A quick search did show that it existed, but no other information. This was normal with new companies. Someone would represent their interests and deal with people. Like they were dealing with him now. They had just two days to get everything done. If he kicked this to John or Eric, as he should, they'd send it to legal, get accounting involved, and not make a decision for months. Or...

Delighted to hear from you. We have several opportunities available, but the one that would get you the most exposure, especially at the grassroots level, would be to sponsor the food we will serve to gamers free of charge. We have an eclectic group of recipes that are sure to be a hit, and your name and logo will be on all the tables. This opportunity is currently available to you, but I'm sure I don't have to tell you about the short time we have to get your logos printed on the items. The cost is low for such sponsorship, only 15,000 credits. Sincerely, Francis DeYoung, executive assistant to Belinda Sabbatino.

The reply came instantly.

We understand, Francis. What was it Napoleon said? "You may ask me for anything you like except time." Such a wise man, that Napoleon. We have heard of your proposed menu. Can you confirm the macaroni and cheese with bacon? The pancakes? Cheese dogs, Funnel Cakes, Fried Cheese?

If he hadn't been convinced this was popular food, he was now.

Of course, all of that is on the menu.

Again, within a second, a reply.

Excellent! Well done, Francis. Claw Master will come, talons ready to grab an elusive Cheese Dog and a few pancakes. Logos and trademarks are on their way. If you have trouble sourcing anything, please talk to me. We can help you with vendors, even at this late time.

We do have a small request. Our latest product is in the final testing stage, and our new gloves are quite stylish and comfortable. You may see some of the local gamers wearing them at the even. I'm sure there is no problem with Claw Master Inc. providing a few promo items to the local gaming community. And good news! Our founder is excited about your entire event and congratulates you on a collection of tasty snacks. He has authorized a payment of 75,000 credits to be paid immediately to your account. See you there!

His email pinged him again. Letting him know that a payment of 75,000 credits had been placed in the account Belinda had set up for him. Francis had the contracts done in thirty minutes and the deal was completed within an hour. Two hours later he sent an email asking about sources some of the food that a vendor was going to be late delivering. Within 20 minutes he was talking to a very helpful Mr. Yohansen from Consolidated Sausage Incorporated and the food was on the way.

Ghost walked into Butch's house two hours after he left and sat on the floor. "I need to admit something to you. I lied about where I got the money for the pancakes and grill. I couldn't talk about it then, and I wanted to do something nice for all of you. Pancakes sounded neat. I have a job testing something, and now the company needs more people to test things out." He brought a stack of contracts, pens, and flat silver boxes. "Before you open the boxes, you need to sign these NDAs and agree to the contracts. That's how the company works."

Mama walked over. Her arms were cross and her expression was stern. "If you weren't one of my own, I'd slap you and throw you down a hole. Do you understand how many times someone comes to the hab to test some new drug or experimental medicine? Do you know what you got into, Ghost? You tell me right now!"

Milo froze. That wasn't the reaction he had expected. He should have done more research. "How about we skip the contracts? You open the boxes but don't put them on yet?" Yumi, Butch, Brad, and Kenji waited for Mama to nod. The flat boxes held gloves made of a silvery grey material with black accents and a logo on the back. Yumi's eyes lit up. "You got us gaming gloves like yours?"

Milo nodded. "Yes, like mine. I've been testing mine for a month. The company is doing extensive testing, and I've been told they detect no side effects or problems."

Mama sighed. "You scared me for a moment. Just gloves? I don't see a problem with that. What's special about them."

Ghost took out his own and put them on. "They should help with your grip, relieve stress, and increase your speed playing games."

Butch looked at them. "And they look cool." Everyone agreed with him.

Milo passed out the NDAs "These say that you agree not to give them away, sell them, or talk about where they came from. Oh, and once you put them on, they won't work for anyone else, so no sharing." There was an immediate cry from Minerva, who crossed her arms and pouted on the couch. "You'll have to fill out reports on how well they work for the company. They'll pay you for your time and effort."

Butch flipped to the back of the contract. "2000 credits? To test gloves? I'm in." He put his thumbprint on the contract and pulled on the gloves that went nearly to his elbows. "Oh, very cool."

The others barely looked at the contracts. Milo handed a similar set of paperwork to Mama. "They also recognize that we're all juveniles and need an adult to make sure we do our reports. Same deal, no gloves, and 3000 a month."

That made her raise an eyebrow. "A month? This is an ongoing position? That's three times more than my husband makes now." She flipped through the short contract. "They are responsible for any problems, side-effects, or legal ramifications? And will provide healthcare during the testing period, and longer if complications occur? These are strange people you deal with." She signed it, handed it back to Milo, and hugged him. She whispered in his ear. "You're up to something, but it's a good something, so I'll let it slide for now. But we will have a talk and I'm going to fill in some of the blanks in that head of yours." Louder, she said. "And did you eat yet? The food processor is still working—an amazing thing.

Milo was starving. "No, I haven't. Very hungry, I'll take a double plate of waffles." Yumi was rewinding the videotape of the Matrix they had been watching. "We got it working. Sit down and see what you missed." Milo sat between Yumi and Minerva. She was still upset at being left out of the older kid's games yet again. Ghost reached into his bag and and handed the younger girl a set of gloves and a contract. "I have an extra. Want it?"

Butch was standing with Brad and Kenji, posing with their gloves. He looked at the end of the room where Minerva, wearing her new gloves, held onto Ghost's left arm and snuggling close to him on the old couch, as the movie started. Yumi was doing the same on the other side. Ghost stared straight ahead at the opening scene, oblivious to anything except the movie.

"For a guy who hasn't figured out girls yet, he's doing pretty good."