Gaffer

[Richter]

"Dave!  You hurt?  Get back on the line, next one's coming through!"

David looked up from the hasty duct tape repair he was making to his stick, and set himself back at the threshold of the teleport booth.  Metal enclosed the closet – like space on all but one side.  Massive fans and static fields kicked in, stirring the air and evacuating errant particles smaller than dust, ensuring the traveler didn't catch a stroke or worse when the traveler's body overlaid into the airspace.  Dave, and his co worker Ron felt their hair rise and get whipped by the combined forces.

The actual teleport event was less dramatic, as a stunned blonde tourist winked in.  Only a faint "bip" sound announced her body displacing the air in the area her body now occupied. 

"-going to turn it on?" she finished, to a person now far, far away. 

An amazed look and an opening of her mouth was cut short by David and Ron looping the padded crook ends around her as gently as possible and herding her out.  The traveler sputtered, indignant.

"Move it!  Before the next one zaps in and splatters you!"

Common sense cut in and she moved off, her steps becoming the clipped efficient movements of any commuter in a tight space.  First timers ALWAYS stopped to gawk.  Ron clicked the "clear" button signal on his lapel, and both men relaxed back into their positions, waiting for the next 'port.

Teleportation, after significant R+D, was possibly the most efficient method of transport humanity had known.  Individual point – to – point devices existed, but only in the hands of highly trained and carefully licensed personnel.  It was far too easy for a careless or unlucky 'port to end in a solid object, underground, in the middle of a building, or more horrifically, another person.  The common, "safe" application came in the stations.  Travel and commuting stations, same as any others mankind had made, designated departure and arrival points for teleporting travelers. 

Despite the miniscule cost of the actual 'port, the money came in arranging and maintaining the "booths".  While technically unnecessary to the actual act of teleporting, their maintenance added safety measures to the process.  Sensors monitored the exact location and updated it constantly to the departure point computer, ensuring you arrived inside the point, as opposed to in the wall behind it, or loosing a millimeter off your heels due to geological shifting.  Fans and static fields prevented problems with dust or debris.  Walls added a layer of physical security, keeping a pigeon, larger items, or some joker's paper airplane from getting zapped into someone's head. 

These brick and mortar measures added to the cost of an otherwise highly energy efficient system, with the booths being rented in 5-20 second increments for inbound traffic.  Safety, and efficiency, demanded that staff be assigned to make certain the booths were cleared and ready for the next inbound ASAP.  The gaffers were there to, by hook or crook (literally), clear the way for the next 'port.

Both Dave and Ron used relatively simple tools made in a complex way. The main ends of their crooks, or "sticks" as they called them unofficially, were stainless steel tubes with heavily padded fiberboard ends.  Each fiberboard piece was expendable, and likely to only displace into a puff of fibers, dust, and foam if an accident occurred.  The other end was a dull hook of sintered brass for when a more solid grip was required.  Again the porous and easily shattered metal was to avoid dangerous shrapnel, a problem in early iterations of mass teleportation.  Sometimes materials merged, sometimes they displaced violently.

Each man took a position 2 feet and 45 degrees from each corner of the booth.  If a passenger or item was stuck, slow, or hesitant to leave the booth, then it was their job to reach in to clear them while risking as little life and limb as possible.  An EMS team was always on hand to clear out the injured.  Sometimes, the brief glimpse of nowhere would spark a temporary, but severe, insanity in a traveler, cases which the EMS would also handle.

On the few, horrible occasions, so called "double 'ports", two unlucky passengers would be sent to the same booth by a glitch in the otherwise redundant and thorough computerized routing system.  Usually, there was nothing to be done in there cases except gaff out the obscene mish-mash that had formerly been two people, hose down the booth, and re-open again when viable.  The lucky ones just lost an arm or hand, fused to a part of the other traveler and necessitating immediate, mutual amputation.  The EMS again would rush in and take care of this with tourniquet and (heavily sterilized) chainsaw, rushing the unfortunates to a hospital before their briefly merged and potentially incompatible immune systems would kill them from the shock.   

In all of these cases Dave and Ron were unable to do much.  Their job was to hit the "EMERG. HOLD" button to stop all inbound ports, assist EMS as needed, and then wait for one minute.  Once they had done so, to ensure no accidental inbounds while their booth was cancelled from the "available" queue of all sending stations, they began to clean.  Each booth had a cabinet with pressurized enzyme and detergent cleaners, sterilizers, brushes, and man – sized squeegee.  The booth had to be spotless before they resumed its use, and they still could not risk entering it personally.   

"So you hear they want to shorten the rest interval again?"  Ron said later as the two were on break.

"Bullshit.  18.5 seconds is reasonable and safe.  The stats have proved it cuts accidents, and it keeps stress off of us."

"You tell the higher ups that.  They're talking about going to a push inbound system too."

"Christ Buddha!  Union's never going to have that!"  Dave exploded.

"Tell me about it, it's like they're ASKING to get people messed up."

"No, they never see that though, they just see the revenue of an extra however many 'ports per day." 

"Money greedy dude, money greedy." Dave shook his head, going back to his crossword.  "You hear about the auto – gaffers they're trying to develop?"

"More insanity.  You bet your ass the union bosses are lobbying against them."

"Right on.  The 'people shovel' models are damn medieval.  Just going to hurt people.  The belt and sling ideas are just as bad, and the slide and moving sidewalk versions can't pass safety yet."

"Science will always strive to replace us better..."  Ron mused.

"Fuckin' poet." Dave chided.  "It's truth though, but no computer will ever replace human supervision."

"People get dull, make mistakes and break too though."

"Well yeah, no shit, but at least the way we work now keeps us sharp and aware.  Constant danger and all.  Was exciting my first year, but now I just gotta make sure I'm ON and ready, you know?  Put me in charge of  a booth with just a bullhorn and an 'Emerg Stop' button, and I'll go straight to shit.  The way we do our job now I feel sorta like Queequeg in 'Moby Dick'.  I could never be a button pusher."

"Hoping for a great white whale? Now who's the fuckin' poet?" Ron shot back.

"Fuck you.  Hey, what's a five letter name for a ghost?"

"'Geist' fit?" 

"Thanks.  It would be kinda nice not to be as responsible though.  Like you remember that girl last year Ron?"

Ron winced.  A teenage passenger had decided to 'port out making a dramatic pose, despite NUMEROUS warnings, printed and audible on the way in, to keep arms at her side and stand straight.  Ron had been jostled by the traveler before her, and she had lost her hand when it teleported into the same space as his crook.

"Yeah, I remember.  Damn shame."

"Don't beat yourself up, dude.  Just bad luck, not your fault.  In the old days, she would have gotten run over by a train or a jet or whatever, fooling around like that.  My point only was you wouldn't be responsible.  The machine would have fucked up, not you."

"Someone would still be responsible though.  Someone had to make and maintain the machine."

"Yeah, it'd keep the howling about 'Oh my god I'm going to sue the useless gaffer', down though.  People should have to define 'Disclaimer' before they walk in the damn door."

Further chatting was cut short by Albert White, the shift supervisor ducking in. 

"Ron, Dave, #5 had a bad splatter, we need you back on #3 to keep capacity up."

"Our break, OSHA says we can't, Al."

"OSHA ain't saying you get double time pay either. You in?"

"Sounds good." Dave replied, as the two shouldered their sticks and headed back to the receiving booths, pulling on helmets and slapping down clear face shields as they went.

[Luna]

I like.

[Eater of Clowns]

Nice.  Is this a part of something larger, or intended to be vignette?

[Richter]

I got the idea in my head, and it sort of took off into a sci-fi slice of life sort of thing.  Not sure carrying it on would really say much more worthwhile.

[Jasper]

That was a fun read!  I liked the subtle dialect changes.

[Richter]

The dialect and slang was one of my favorite parts of it.  Being kind of a dialect nerd, I loved poking around for places where novel contractions or swears would fit.  It also disguises otheriwse dubious dialogue

[Jasper]

Cool trick, yoinked.  My dialogue writing is very novice at this point.

[Luna]

The dialect went in very naturally, didn't feel forced at all.

[Richter]

I had to pull a couple dirty writing tricks besides the dialect.  Mainly, under the golden rule, write what you know, I know break room bellyaching.  I also tried to imagine the whole persona of the character, and slip in traits of IRL people.  Then I write their dialogue as much as just let their conversation play out naturally.  This also diffuses my brain from trying to write like I speak/think.

Major exposition, or overly inanne statements that never happen in real dialogue, ("Here we are in the break room!"), I avoid like the plauge.   

[LMNO]

I like that it proposes fantanstic and stunning tech, but humans are humans, no matter what.

[Jasper]

That's something I love in some sci-fi.  In stories where people act better because their technology is better, it feels too unattainable and idealized.

[Luna]

That's something Firefly had that Star Trek just didn't.

[Richter]

Next Generation especially. Hell, they made people so righteous blissed self actualized out that most of the classic personality flaws had to have their own SPECIES.

[Richter]

I like that it proposes fantanstic and stunning tech, but humans are humans, no matter what.

Yup. Like how in the 50's they thought that computers would make working more than 3 hours a day obsolete.  Nope.  Just meant employers expected MORE.

[Luna]

And humans will always do things like bitch about safety restrictions... then cheerfully ignore them when offered overtime.