Fred Crimp: Salesman

Fred Crimp: Salesman

A Short Story by Dean Bloomfield

When the three largest galactic alliances, each comprising hundreds of high technology systems, decided that it was in everyone's best interest to stop blowing up each others planets over who's -- place your preferred measuring stick here-- was more feasible, it was considered a great event; it was a monumental milestone for intelligent lifeforms everywhere.

Governments began cutting their military funding. Within ten years, there was nary a battleship or orbital defense platform to be seen in the cold void of space. With all the credits saved from building weapons and training warriors, there was finally enough to go around to improve healthcare and education. Systems that previously allowed their citizens to go hungry so that they could wage war on their neighbors' hungry population decided it was time to throw them a bone. As it turned out, citizens that were well fed, well educated and healthy were less likely to be pissed off at their government, which in turn reduced the government's "need" to deflect the masses' displeasure with hatred of the next planet over.

To be sure, the rulers of most systems were not naive enough to believe that war was a completely dead past-time, so they tended to maintain a skeletal defense force to protect themselves from pirates and the like. Yet, even the threat of pirates was reduced; why steal when you had a pretty good thing sitting right in front of you?

You're wondering by now why you're being told all this. You already know it. Everybody knows it. We were all taught it in school, right? True... but what you may not know is that, as great as all this is for civilized society as a whole, it really, really sucked for the conflicts industry. Selling weapons used to be a multi-quintillion credit a galactic solar cycle industry, but after what the industry called the "conflicts crash" of 3210 Standard Earth Reckoning (SER), most weapons manufacturing businesses went under. They couldn't even give an anti-matter warhead away; No system wanted to rock the boat and ruin the wonderful golden era of so-called galactic peace.

Needless to say, working in the conflicts industry was not where any being with any prospects wanted to be. There was little chance of moving up the company ladder, or making it rich, but the industry did still exist, and had openings galore in the job market.

When your higher education scores were low, and you're a human Saturn-Europa citizen, you didn't have many choices. Growing up under Sol's astral educational system meant that your overall course score dictated what jobs were available to you. There just wasn't any way around it unless you were from an affluent family. The only good thing about the policy was that a newly graduated citizen had two years to decide on a career that they would have to perform for a minimum of ten years, before they were permitted to switch paths again. Otherwise you would have to opt to leave the Sol system.

After spending much of his time at Europa University focusing on extracurricular sociological activities, instead of the courses required in a General Studies workload, Fred Crimp discovered that a barely passing grade was not "good enough" -- as he had indeed assured his classmates -- for him to get by on. The Employment Options service center had laid out a pleasant array of potential career paths for his friends: Doctor, Lawyer, Scientist, for those overachievers among them; Accountant, Teacher, Technician, Xeno-Translator, for those that did some form of studying in between paying attention to the bong and the beer keg. For those that had exceled at partying 101 and the ditching elective tended to have options such as: Waste Management Engineer, Transportation Agent, and Sustenance Specialist and of course, Defense Sales.

Fred Crimp had tried them all. He believed they all deserved a fair shake. He did not realize at the time just how dirty an environmentally sealed city could get, and decided after four months that, despite the obvious job security, he was not up to the task of cleaning up after others five days a week for the rest of his life.

Operating one of the city's public grav-buses had seemed a hidden gem of a job for the first few of weeks; all he had to do was ensure that everyone paid to ride, and no one got caught in the doors-- but then the suicidal urges set in as cantankerous geriatrics, screaming teens, and smelly, drunken dead-beats slowly worked their way under his skin.

The less said about the Sustenance services the better.

That left Defense Sales. Apparently, it was not as difficult as Weapons Sales to make a living from, but that wasn't saying a lot. Only the largest systems and planetary governments were still in the market for defense solutions, and they were mostly already in bed with their provider of choice. Getting a toe-hold into a lucrative contract was nigh impossible. The salesmen Fred had seen on his job hunt had sported stubble on their jaws, unkempt suits, and took the occasional quick nip at drinking flasks. They all seemed to have a frantic gleam in their eyes, but maybe it was just the ethanol. The saleswomen were not much better, although most did not have jaw stubble to attend to.

So when Fred submitted his application for placement in Defense Sales after seven months of testing the waters with his other options, it was with deep trepidation. He received a confirmation on his communication band three hours later. Fifteen minutes after that, he was presented with instructions for appearing at the GEH Enterprises office on Europa Orbital station. The rapidity of the response on his submission was worrying. The other industry position responses had each taken over a week, and his placement instructions another day or two after that. How desperate was this company?!? And, going up to Europa Orbital was another concern; if he didn't hack it at GEH, he would have to come up with the transport fee back down to Europa City. He was already living off the minimum social service allotted to all working (and those trying to get work) citizens.

Fred decided there was nothing to be done about it now. He was given seventeen hours to settle his affairs and make it to the spaceport for exodus to the orbital. Thankfully there wasn't much that Fred needed to take care of. It only took him a few hours to transfer his social service to roam on his comm-band, close off his accommodations in the city core, and pack up his meager belongings. He then arranged for his property to be transported up to Europa Orbital temporary storage.

He spent the remaining ten hours visiting with a few of his closest friends on their breaks. They all expressed a mixture of consolation and best of luck on his job. Fred could not shake the feeling that they expected to never see him again.

At the spaceport, the wait in line for entry onto his shuttle was long, but uneventful, as was the launch up to Europa Orbital. Fred took a short nap; the farewell visits has been surprisingly exhausting. When he woke up, he began studying the job description he hadn't really paid much attention to it when he had applied:

Job Description

Job Type: Sales Representative

Primary Location: Europa Orbital Station - Europa, Saturn, Sol System (3.5512 3 13 13 42.0)

Description: GEH Enterprises' main office is looking for an ambitious go-getter with strong communication skills for a role as a sales representative for one of the oldest astral defense systems manufacturers in the sector.

The successful candidate must be able to work under substantial stress and problem solve with little-to-no supervision. Although every effort is made to avoid the possibility, exposure to dangerous objects and substances is a possibility. No sales experience necessary. Pacifists need not apply....

There was more information, but Fred's mind couldn't seem to get past the second paragraph in the description. "The successful candidate must be able to work under substantial stress"? ... Where would they be sending him? And what did "...exposure to dangerous objects and substances is a possibility" even mean?? What the hell did they expect him to sell?

He turned off his comm-band's holo display. It suddenly occurred to Fred that he had made another terrible mistake in what seemed like a long string of mistakes.

He kept thinking about what horrors he would be forced to experience. His imagination went into overdrive with images of his impending death swimming before his eyes. His pulse made a rapid ascent. The shuttle passenger cabin suddenly felt uncomfortably narrow. There wasn't enough air being passed through the ventilation system; he was having trouble taking breaths. Why was his heart sounding so loud in his ears? Why was his vision being closed in by blackness?!?

When Fred's eyes opened up again, his comm-band politely informed him--in a tone he could swear bore a hint of disappointment--that he had experienced an anxiety attack, and that it was forced to administer a tranquilizer to calm him. His comm-band suggested that he avoid the cause of the anxiety in the future if he wished to maintain emotional equilibrium. This had the result of sending Fred into a fit of desperate giggling that he had trouble bringing to an end. His comm-band was not impressed.

Young people rarely gave any thought to their mortality. They had their whole life ahead of them, so why would they think of impending death? Death was for the elderly. After wiping desperate tears from his eyes, Fred pulled up the last will and testament form from the Europa Public Network server. Ignoring the concerned glances of passengers in his row, he began filling in his personal information in earnest. There wasn't much to bequeath to anyone but it made him feel better that he had put his affairs in order.

Disembarking the shuttle occurred without a hitch. Most of the shuttle's previous passengers disappeared in the various directions provided by the waiting mag-lev trains. Those remaining ex-passengers seemed to be as disoriented as Fred was. He had only ever been to the orbital station once briefly in high school, and did not remember much of the event. One particular individual caught his eye; a large non-human species he had never seen before. It was an anthropoid that stood over two meters tall with a striking magenta skin coloring. It was wasp-waisted with what appeared to be six digits similar to fingers. It wore a blue-grey utilitarian overall fashioned from a marbled substance with much of the side panels revealing its flesh from armpits to ankles. As Fred observed the being's elegant movements organizing its luggage, its bright blue eyes met his.

There was an awkward moment in which Fred felt they both considered pretending the connection never happened--or maybe it was just Fred's decision-making at work--before the being started to make long strides in his direction. Fred looked behind himself, sure that there must be someone awaiting the magenta creature's arrival. There wasn't; in the moments his gaze met the alien's the disembarkation lounge had emptied but for the two of them.

By the time Fred had turned back, the alien was standing bent-down in front of him, quite close to his face. The being's own face was wide--wider than any human's--with what appeared to be a narrow swath of very short soft fur running from head-top to lower-lip. It's expression was difficult to determine--possibly somewhere between confusion, embarrassment, and joy--when it spoke to Fred in a melodious timber. His comm-band couldn't translate the words, and he definitely didn't understand a thing it said. "What?" Fred responded idiotically.

The alien seemed to repeat itself and then cocked its head to one side while jerking it backwards and forward. Fred gave an exaggerated shrug with hands raised. "I. Don't. Understand. What. You. Want..." He stated slowly, as if to a simpleton. "Are you lost or something?"

The creature huffed, seemingly equally frustrated. Then it looked down at the universal translator attached to one of the pockets on the chest its overalls. It tapped it lightly once... twice... then, delivered several sharp blows to the piece of electronics. There was a series of short squawks of static, then nothing from the device.

"Assistance from you is requested by self!" bellowed the translator mechanically within seconds of the alien's third attempt at communication. Fred jumped back, shocked.

The alien made some adjustments to the translator "Most embarrassed self for machine failure! Assistance from you is requested by self" It stated finally. The alien gave a wide grin.

"Um... ok... how can I help you?" Fred agreed skeptically. The alien jerked its head forwards and backwards again--the equivalent of a nod, he guessed--before responding "Assistance. Yes."

The creature tapped its forehead twice "Self is NooNeeChaa hailed. NooNeeChaa." Head jerk forwards and backwards again. "You? How hailed?"

NooNeeChaa? Thought Fred. Was that its name or its species? He pointed at the being "NooNeeChaa?" He repeated. "You?"

Head jerk forwards and backwards again. "Correct, correct." Head jerk forwards and backwards again. "You? How Hoomaahnah hailed?"

Hoomaahnah... Did it mean Human? That seemed accurate. Trying to emulate the alien's method of speech, Fred responded while tapping his chest "Self is... um... Fred. Fred Crimp"

The alien jerked its head backwards and forward several times "Ahhhhhh... You is UmmFredFredCrimp. Yes?"

What?? Thought Fred. He shook his head quickly "No, no, no..." He tapped his chest again. "Just 'Fred Crimp'." He enunciated each syllable "Fred." Brief pause "Crimp."

He pointed at the alien "NooNeeChaa." Then gestured to himself "Fred Crimp".

The alien hooted--a laugh?--"Ahhhhhh... You is FredCrimp."

Fred nodded "Yes. Yes." Then pointed at the creature again "Assistance?"

Head jerk forwards and backwards again. "Location needed. Path not known. GEH Enterprises location needed. " Followed by a strange burp-like sound. The alien's head sways left to right and back to the left again. "FredCrimp knows path?"

Fred could not contain the laugh that escaped him. "GEH? Um... self also, um... seeks?" Fred thought for a second "Wait... have map". He quickly brought up the directions provided on his job order on his comm-band.

Both of them studied the comm-band projected hologram of the map intently for several seconds "Ahhhhhh.... location found!" stated the alien proudly, as it jerked its head backwards and forward several times.

Fred nodded and headed to the mag-lev train platform they needed. NooNeeChaa followed with its smooth gait. The next train would be along in a few minutes.

Fred cleared his throat and glanced up at the other being "Um... I hope it's not too rude to ask, but... um... I've never seen your kind--species--here before... where do you come from? What solar system?"

The creature hooted several times "Ahhhhhh.... no offence is to self." It assured as it provided its system of origin. Fred couldn't quite understand it verbally, so he asked for the astronomical coordinates.

After entering the coordinates into his comm-band, he discovered that NooNeeChaa's species--as close as could be pronounce by a human mouth--was the Ajuu Aitaal. Fred was also able to determine by the syllables in the alien's name that NooNeeChaa was a female of the species.

The identification of the alien's species made it easier to configure his comm-band to properly handle the translation between them. It also enabled Fred to assist the Ajuu Aitaal to further calibrate its own translator.

By this time the mag-lev train had arrived. The train car they entered was heavily occupied, but they were able to find seats. There were many open stares directed towards NooNeeChaa, which she either didn't mind, or was determined to ignore. Fred tried his best to ignore the uncomfortable attention as well.

For several minutes, the two new acquaintances engrossed themselves in observing the ebb and flow of passengers, as vast numbers of beings--mostly humans--wrestled for a path on or off the train.

Finally the human tired of watching the bustle. "So... We're both going to GEH Enterprises, huh? That's crazy! Are you going there for a job?" Fred inquired nervously. He wasn't sure what role the Ajuu Aitaal could be occupying at GEH, a primarily human based company.

The alien jerked her head forward slowly "Correct. The stars align for us FredCrimp. My people would call it an auspicious moment!" NooNeeChaa did her nod once more. "GEH Enterprises expresses need for self's diverse abilities in the defensive arts. A skillset rare in these peaceful times."

Defensive arts? Fred considered the alien's words. "Do you mean that GEH is hiring you as some sort of soldier?" He asked. Before NooNeeChaa could answer, Fred's comm-band reminded him that their stop was coming up.

"Oh! This is us!" They rose and stood by the doorway, ready to exit the train quickly; from what they had witnessed so far, there would surely be a mass of bodies ready to force their way on. When the train stopped, however, there was no one waiting at all. They both exited in a mild shock.

The platform lighting was dim, obviously programming of the station meant to conserve electricity in low volume sections. The only sound around them was the departing whoosh of the mag-lev train. "Self is not encouraged by this..." NooNeeChaa murmured to herself. "FredCrimp is certain this is the correct stop?"

Fred rechecked his directions. They were accurate, so he nodded confirmation. He peered down the wide--and obviously empty--traverse-way "It says here that someone would be here to pick me up." He peered at the Ajuu Aitaal hopefully. "What does your directions say, NooNeeChaa?"

"Self has same information" She stated confidently. "All gathered can do is wait, Self posits..."

The human tried to find a comfortable position in one of many lounge seats. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

45 minutes later, extreme boredom and hunger was starting to set in for Fred. He wasn't sure if the alien was feeling peckish, but it never once seemed to display any discomfort.