Unification: draft 2

~Above the planet, God stirred from slumber. The beings it watched were reaching past their bounds once more. Senses showed the heresy to be on the second continent, and queries to the servants told that it was a region that had fallen away from skyward belief for many years. God located the rising chemical plume and sent a pulse of demon energy that destroyed it well before it could leave the atmosphere. An angel already rushed to bring its sword down upon the launch site, it and the tracking station would be smoldering holes before dusk. God set his servants to erase the line of heretic thought, and then slept to plan in dreams.
The directorate hummed with rumor and data at all hours, and the will of God was its lifeblood, divining purpose from the chaotic aether. Only a chosen few were attuned to the words that came from nothingness; and though they were less than human, it was a greatness to translate the messages for the knowledge of man. Even in the night, the steno's pens were ready, and now they scribed.
~Track and tire hummed as Jakyb swung his machine onto the paved roadway. He had exceeded his expected work for the day, but that would not clear him from censure if he was late. The Hworker's arms were stowed tightly against the hulking carriage, and he pushed its speed to the highest allowable, blue-white running lights set against the hints of dusk already teasing the horizon. Passing one cultivated field, Jake saw a ghostly shape trot into the high grass at the far end, and marked the sighting on the machine's workpad. Perimeter would be interested in a panther this close to the settlement, and he didn't doubt that the local farmers would be as well. He decided to tell his father in the morning, let him be the one to spread word among appreciative neighbors. Slowing a bit as he approached the stables and the beginning of traffic, Jakyb saw that he would be the last machine in, with little leeway before curfew. Entering the gate, he was positive that his machine was marked for the straggler report; this was going to cost him.
Steering into the yard of the Hworker shed, Jakyb stopped on the parking apron and climbed down from the cab. Superviser Gradow scowled over his workpad as robot control took the machine inside for cleaning and maintenance. Philip Gradow was never a happy man, even less so when Jake was involved. "Jakyb Trindle, star of work group three-six-two, so good you could find your way home." The supervisor's gruff voice was pure rolling Kardash, and his gnarled visage spoke of a harsh upbringing in that mountainous northern region.
"Sorry about the time boss, but there won't be much over half a day left on that new pump station tomorrow." Jakyb's cavalier manner never failed to make the supervisor bristle, and only an exceptional work record kept him from being assigned the smaller Hworkers that lesser pilots found themselves stuck with often enough.
"Tomorrow I must send out foundation then. Thank you, for headache at the end of my day. Maybe you will respect schedule if you are eating less well at chow; I know how to keep you in line."
"Gee, you know Phil, most wouldn't consider missing worker mess much of a punishment," Jake sallied.
"That's Supervisor Gradow to you, and you are just lucky it is not my job to teach you real hardship." Gradow scowled even deeper as he went back to poking at his workpad, and Jake wisely excused himself from the yard.
Waiting at the corner of the building was a lanky young man about Jake's age, but with dark curls that contrasted greatly with Jakyb's cropped sandy hair. The easy manner as he joined step was a result of many years of friendship.
"Ho, Adam. How's doings?"
"Another easy day underground. You keep teasing Gradow, and he'll stick you down there too. Reorienting after a shift on those spiders is a killer, but you'd probably love it."
"Aw, he's just setting you up to be a miserable bastard when you move into his spot. They'll have to give him a bigger dirtpile to lord over one of these days." Jake slugged his friend playfully in the arm, "C'mon, lets get some chow before Phil decides we both need the motivations of a meager diet."
Entering the worker's mess, the two paused to wash up in the small foyer. A trough sluiced warm water, and they scrubbed briskly to just short of their elbows before entering the hall. Slapping the scanpad produced a normal tray for each of them, so Jake decided that Gradow's threat was an idle one. As the pair considered the dessert bar, a voice piped up behind them. "Scuse me gents," a lithe female form popped between them. Anna Bunski held her tray in both left hands while she leaned in to snag a plated slice of her favorite pie, and there was no trace of movement in her mechanical grip. Anna rarely spoke about the accident that had cost her an arm two years ago, and was somewhat self-conscious of the prosthetic replacement from time to time. Undeniably, she had embraced its abilities to become an even more capable mechanic, respected by every foreman who set her to a task.
Adam indicated a relatively empty table along the wall, and the trio sat. Joined, Anna's cyborg arm looked most natural, but for an extra thumb and a slight seam along the pseudoskin covering. She kept it hidden below the table as she ate, suddenly apprehensive, though nobody seemed to notice either way. With a quick sideways grin to Jake, Adam broke the conversation. "Hey Anna, race this Sixday. You gonna make sure Jake wins?"
"I'm spending it with Darby, no one pays him enough attention." Trin affected a superior air, with a hmmph through her nose to drive the statement.
"That 'unloved stray' eats better than I do. He's got his own waterslide for crying..! Jake, you convince her!"
Jakyb ventured an appeal to her pride, "You know the podium really only shows who has the best tinker, come tune the machine for me. Betcha at least two teams drop out when you show up."
"If I do come, you two promise we just race," a finger jabbed at Adam. "No trying to set me up with your usual dork parade."
Adam raised his palms in defense. "Hey, they ask to be introduced, not my fault you look so damn sexy with a wrench. Besides, most are too scared to talk to you after that guy you punched in the face."
"That chamel-breathed punk groped me as if he had a right to, had to be done." Anna popped the last bit of pie in her mouth and chewed with a benign smirk. Neither friend could tell if she was more pleased about consequence-free violence, or the fact that someone had thought enough of her backside to venture a pinch.