Part 4

Di isn't happy.

Di stretched her stiff muscles, liberated from the heavy leather protection and the weight of the steam wrench. She just wanted to sleep... But no, that pompous airbag, Armet, from the inspection team was coming over to talk to her. Wonderful. 

She knew what was coming. She needed to work faster, set an example as Head Rotary Mechanic, blah, blah, blah. It was the same every week. Did they think she was empty in the head? She knew more about these engines than anyone in the upper decks, and a good deal more than most in the lower. Only her father knew as much as she did, and she had figured out a few things even he didn't know. She didn't just know about them. She knew them. 

Armet walked over to her, a grim expression on his face. What? Had she not tightened a leak valve enough? Had she left streaks on the main fuel inductor? What had she done this time?

"Head Rotary Mechanic DiPersia Iaonsen?" Oh, no. They had used her full rank and name. She must have really screwed up. Leaving one half of her mind to pay close enough attention to Armet, she let the other try to recall any massive blunder she could have made. "Due to situations that, while regrettable, are now irreversible, we, as the Engine Inspection Team, have decided as a whole to reduce your wage..."

He kept talking, but Di could barely hear him. Reduce her pay? She was the hardest worker in the entire main rotary chamber! She needed that money!

She turned to him, hazel eyes blazing. "What're ye going on about? I keep this bloody friggin' airship floatin', ye pea-brained fool! 'Regrettable, irreversible situations,' eh? Do ye mean me friggin' leg gettin' pulled off trying to keep the whole bloody engine from explodin'? Do ye mean that situation? The one your doctors bunged up, ruinin' me leg because they didn't want to waste good technology on the lowest of the low? Without that money, I won' ever be able t' pay fer the upgrade surgery, and I'll keep holdin' yer precious team up, doin' less an' less work. I'll become useless, an' it'll be yer fault!" Turning around, Di stalked off, wrenching the door that led to the stairway up to the sky deck. Her nerves were shot, and it was wreaking havoc on the connection to her leg. One step at a time, she limped up the stairs.

They did this to her.

Author's Note

I never could figure out why they were reducing her wage. It made this part of the story a little sticky. But it was fun to let Di rant with a heavy accent.