SD241711.12 - Duty Log - Sails - "The Door"
Posted on Sun Nov 12th, 2017 @ 4:54pm by Sails-at-Dawn Mr
792 words; about a 4 minute read
Mission:
Test Mission
Location: USS Versailles
Timeline: Current
=^= Residential Block 44-J7 =^=
Sarah Chiseldon was a pleasant woman in her 30s who lived with her two children, taking care of them as best she could. Her husband had passed away three years ago, and she was still struggling to balance her life. Between her job as a florist, her responsibilities as a senior botanist of the Techno-Horticultural Society (engineering for the benefit of plants, with close ties to engineering societies and horticultural societies across the station), and her vocation as a recreational florist. Many people came from as far away as Deck 10 to consult her on both technology and horticulture, and this had always given her a feeling of pride. It wasn't the most exciting life, but it was a very busy life, and it did have its moments.
Right now though, she was tired, worried, confused, happy, annoyed, and a little intrigued.
She was tired because she had been working all day, worried because she had come home to find the door to her quarters open and a stranger inside, confused because the man was busy attaching a new door to her quarters, happy because the man was a registered handyman (and not a violent criminal), annoyed that her previous door had "broken" for reasons that the handyman refused to describe in detail, and intrigued by the way the handyman had, professionally and quickly, installed the door upside-down.
-- 5 minutes ago --
"Pardon me."
The street tough turned around to confront the person who had walked into his back, only to find a door behind him. It was a normal door in every respect, except that it seemed to be standing in the middle of the promenade. He opened his mouth to shout, frowned, tried to think of an insult that applied to doors, failed, got a headache from thinking too hard, huffed, got embarrassed about the huff, and simply stepped aside. This was way too much thinking in a day, he told himself.
The door continued down the promenade, careful to avoid people wherever it could. Groups dispersed in front of it, children watched in wonder as it glided silently past them, and puzzlement was the order of the day. Enterprising parents told wondering progeny about the things that doors did on their days off. About doors, going door-to-door, in order to talk with the other doors. About evenings in the dojo learning the fine art of "door-fu". About how to trap the fingers of anyone who tried to recite the terrible door joke ("Heh, when is a door not a door? When it's ajararrrrrrrgh!"). Many a fun tale was spun around the wizened finger of an aging parent as the door sped onwards, slipping between the closing doors of a turbolift and flitting onwards to its next adventure.
-- 15 minutes ago --
"A door?"
"Yes."
"You...want a door?"
"Yes. Should I repeat myself?"
"No! Uh, no. It's just...people come to me for things, you know? Illegal things. Dangerous things."
"Yes."
"Will this door explode?"
"No."
"Will it shut and seal someone inside?"
"No."
"So a normal door?"
"Yes."
"...are you sure?"
"I have a hammer."
"Ok, a door. No problem."
-- 25 minutes ago --
"So," Sails said, taking a breath, "you did this?" he asked, aggravated but trying to remain calm.
"Yeah man. You said to find that guy and sort dis stuff out." Roger the Bull replied, stuffing his gargantuan hands in his bucket-sized pockets. Roger was a human, but he was a human over six feet tall with muscles that probably saw more steroids than red blood cells.
"And you did. No question. Well done." Sails replied, wondering why this was so hard. "And yet, in the process, you seem to have killed a door." he stated, looking at the crumpled mess of metal that sat on the floor in front of him.
"Ur, yeah." Roger answered, nodding in agreement.
"Why?"
"Hurh?"
"Why did you kill the door?" Sails asked, patient as the grave.
"Cause we found the guy."
"Yes, in the corridor."
"Yeah."
"Where you were."
"Yeah." More nodding.
"And the door was....?"
"It were behind him when I cornered 'im, like."
"Right. Got it." Sails replied, quickly deciding that he didn't need that mental image. Instead, he simply gave Roger a nod and walked away.
-- Present moment --
"Enjoy your new door." Sails said to Sarah, giving a little servant-y bow.
"But..."
"I have to run. Let me know if there's any problems."
"There is..."
"Any at all."
"But you..."
"Goodbye." Sails concluded, quickly marching away.
Sarah stared at her new upside-down door, gave a little sigh, and pushed the button to open it.
And then it slid up into the ceiling.
How the *hell*......
=^= End of Log =^=
Sails-at-Dawn
Civilian
Versailles
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