Logbook entry

Traditions

03 Mar 2021Eddie Stone
Eddie sat back in his chair and exhaled, closing his eyes briefly as the calm of good quality cannabis sativa made its way into his bloodstream.  A glass of cold cider sat on the table, next to the datapad.  He slowly reached out and touched the screen to begin recording.

“Apparently, this is a tradition.  Recording a log as a pilot.  Humans do like their traditions. Festivals, holidays, treating each other like shit...people often tell me I look pissed off in photos. Well, y'know I think I got a right to be angry. Lost my Ma and Pa a few weeks ago, in the space of a few days. Ma went first. Not unexpected, as they say. But even so, to sit and watch her expire, to listen to the crackling sound of her breathing.  Pulmonary fibrosis. And then Pa...just died of grief.  He couldn't forgive himself for not being able to help her. Even though he had spent the last few years caring for her. In the end, he had had to give up work to do that.  It fell to me to provide for them. I didn't mind that; life had never been the same since the accident.  The explosion in the factory where they had both worked, that released a shitload of methyl isocyanate gas. Pa was lucky, managed to get a respirator on in time, but not Ma. So accidents happen.  But the Company covered it up, blamed it on sabotage, fobbed off the victims, when every fucker knew about their abysmal safety record.  That's one reason I'm angry. But turned out it wasn't the first time. Years ago, they'd built a tritium plant to provide for the Fed Navy's Farragut battlecruisers. Guess what? Yep, radiation leak. They admitted to that one, at least, and I suppose I was fortunate to get away with as few birth defects as I did. "
Eddie paused, took a long drag on the joint and a gulp of cider as he felt his rage rising.
 "When I was old enough to comprehend, Ma explained all this to me.  I didn't understand at that point, but I became determined to. Outside of school, I would spend hours researching. And when Pa was in his cups, he would put on his favourite music, music from ancient Earth that stayed with me, and that I learnt to play. It was a good thing that I spent so much time learning at home, because I had to quit school to start work. Oh, the Company provided some disability payments for Ma, but not enough for us all to live on, especially when Pa stopped work to look after her. The stress turned him into an alcoholic; but a functioning one.  He drank to get to sleep."
 He stood and paced the cramped quarters of his Viper MkIV, The Saint of Apis, reflecting on how things had turned out.
 "After they died, I was seething with resentment towards the Company. Asked around to see if anyone else would be willing to bring legal action against them.   But when a corporation is also the government, that's not likely to happen. Plus, someone snitched on me and I lost my job. No panic. There were other political factions out there, so I went to them looking for employment.  I still remember the interview I had with Advisor Tanya Volksberg; middle-aged, with a reputation for being condescending and supercillious...

'Hmm....Edvard Stone. Edvard, eh? How Scandanvian. Our very own Prince of Denmark.' Returned her gaze to the datapad.
Eddie had merely stared back and replied 'Well, Ma'am, don't be expecting any soliloquies from me.' She looked up, startled, realising that he wasn't the ignorant commoner she might have assumed him to be.  Her attitude changed and by the end of the interview, not only did he have a new job, but they had developed a mutual respect.   There was a decent person in there, he had realised, hiding behind a mask to get on in life.

“And so...we weren’t friends, as such.  Acquaintances.  But that connection we had, well, it helped set me on the path I tread now…”
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