1. Lisa

Ispin the long, thin thermal calibrator between my fingers as I carefully inspect every piece of the engine block with my head lamp. Having my hands do something helps me think, and this little tool is almost always hanging out of my apron pocket.

Frowning, I get on my toes and look in a little deeper. I don’t normally service hover cars. Spaceships are my forte. And I‘m very good at it. But every now and then a guy with more money than sense will pop in right when I’m between jobs.

And oh, this guy had absolutely no sense.

“What do you see?” Beth asks.

I frown, chewing on my bottom lip. “Read the customer complaint again, please.”

I hear Beth’s comm pad pop on. “Customer states he heard a whirring sound coming from the engine. No other issues noted.”

“Whirring sound…” I repeat, opening the housing for the air filter and finding it nearly pristine. I replace it and continue my search,

“A knocking sound would be easy,” Beth says with a sigh. “Even a grinding sound is normal and easy to diagnose. But a whirring sound?”

“Yeah, it’s definitely new to me.” Especially in a Landmark Nova GX Three Luxury Edition. These babies were made for incredibly wealthy patrons to get them from their office to the swingball course so smoothly they could drink scalding hot tea without issue.

These hover cars aren’t known for having engine trouble or electrical gremlins. They’re pretty reliable. For as much as they cost, they’d better be. But for what you get in stability, you lose in speed and power.

“Wait a minute,” I say out loud. “Speed and power.”

Beth scoffs. “Not in these.”

“Exactly. Beth, what kind of guy did the customer seem like to you?” She would know better, since she was the one who checked him in and took his keys before he ducked into a hover cab.

“Oh, uh, older. Like, nearing retirement age. And loaded.”

“Obviously. Did he have a kid with him by any chance? Preferably a teenage boy?” I ask, maneuvering myself a little bit further inside.

“Huh? Why? Don’t tell me you’re–”

“Ah ha!” I reach back and pull my torque wrench from my apron. It’s only a few turns before I have the small metal container free from the engine. I stand back up and hold the snail shell shaped device in the air.

Beth’s mouth drops. “A…a turbocharger? In a Nova GX?”

“I’d bet my whole garage Mr. Customer has a kid who wanted to show off Daddy’s ride but got embarrassed with how sluggish the engine felt. This one makes a whirring sound when you get it past a certain threshold. Who knows how long it’s been in there before he was late for an appointment and had to punch it.”

Beth and I share a quick laugh at the thought when the little indicator lamp lights up.

“Here, call him back and let him know where his son’s allowance went. I’ll get that.” I hand the turbocharger over to Beth and make my way to the front desk, hoping this is a real job that’ll take me more than ten minutes.

“About time. Do you know how long I was waiting here?” A Vakutan man is standing by the counter, arms crossed and looking annoyed. He’s hot, most Vakutan are. His bright red skin accentuates his muscular frame.

“You mean before or after you figured out where the ‘press for service’ button was?” I reply with a smirk.

He lowers his brow and scowls at me. One shot to the ego, confirmed.

“I’ve got a ship that needs a tune up. It’s overdue for a synth lube change, and the reactor made a weird vibration when it was placed in stasis mode.” He looks me up and down, and somehow frowns harder. “Think you can handle that?”

I smile up at him, leaning onto the counter and batting my eyes. “A little thing like me? I think I can handle it just fine.”

He rolls his eyes and throws the fob in my direction. “Just get it done.”

I catch it, my smile dropping down as he walks to the small waiting area, plopping into a seat and scrolling through his comm pad.

And just when I think I can’t have a lower opinion of the guy, I step outside and see his ship.

“What… the fuck,” I whisper. It’s a wreck. Forget the synth lube, this thing needs a change of everything! Panels are rusted, there’s corrosive buildup on the mechanical parts, even the seats look beyond repair.

A guy with an attitude I can handle. But a jerk who also doesn’t give a shit about his vehicle? Now that is unforgivable.

“Well, you were right,” Beth says meekly as she approaches me. “He kept me on the line while he yelled at his son, too. It was… awkward. Oh, wow. What a shit bucket.”

I snort. It takes a lot to get such a strong reaction from my assistant.

“The owner’s a real piece of work himself.” I adjust my apron, grab the thermal calibrator, and open the panel covering the reactor. Beth immediately lets out a screech as we’re suddenly surrounded by a swarm of small, strange insect creatures. They buzz around us for a moment before scattering away. Left behind is what I can only assume was their nest.

“How does that even happen?” Beth yells. “In the reactor?”

“There’s gotta be a gap somewhere in the housing. A pregnant one gets in, lays her eggs, before you know it a whole colony is thriving. There’s no way he didn’t notice.”

My opinion of this guy couldn’t get any lower at this point. He must have noticed something was wrong days, if not weeks ago. And he waited until it was inconvenient to do something about it.

That really grinds my gears.

“Beth, do you think one day I might just find a man who doesn’t suck this bad?” I ask with a sigh.

Beth slaps a hand over her mouth and laughs. “You’re probably not going to find one in this line of work, no.” She hands me a pair of heavy duty work gloves, and we get to work on pest control.

“Last week it was that one guy who did whatever I told him, including jumping on one foot because I said it would make the car get fixed faster,” I say, pulling chunks of hive off the housing.

“Oh, yeah. That was kind of mean, Lisa.”

“And before that, that Juneph guy asked if I was on my period because he heard women make more mistakes when they are.”

Beth, again, dissolves into a fit of laughter as she tries to scrape rust from the panels. “You didn’t tell me about that one!”

“And every day it’s just a sea of boring, brainless boys too busy staring at their comm pads to even look at me twice before dropping their keys on the counter. Why can’t just one hot, capable, intelligent man who can keep up with me walk in through those doors and whisk me away?” I sigh wistfully, lost in a sea of fantasy.

In my dreams, a handsome rogue falls madly in love with me. He’s a space pirate, or maybe one of those casino bosses I’ve heard so much about. He takes one look at me and sees my potential, trading jabs and witty banter. Then, on the deck of a ship, he makes deep, passionate love to me.

“Those kinds of guys can fix their own engines, Lisa.”

My dream pops instantly, lost in the void of mediocre reality. Beth is right. As long as I spend all day and night working in this garage, I’m only going to meet people who can’t be bothered to learn how to fix their own ships. They’re disinterested and disengaged, and probably despise the fact that they need someone like me to do it for them as well.

“Maybe you should take a vacation?” Beth asks, moving to another side of the ship to get at more of the rust. “Go somewhere romantic. Chat up some guys at a poolside bar or a race track. Get away from this place, you know?”

I shake my head. “No way. No offense, Beth, but this place would fall apart in a day without me.”

Beth shrugs her shoulders. “No offense taken. You’ve got a point. I just get so worried about you, you know? Loneliness hurts.”

She doesn’t know it, but Beth just stabbed me right in the chest. Yeah, I’m lonely. Going home to a cold, empty apartment every night does that. But it doesn”t hurt enough to make me want to settle.

Not yet, anyway.

I have my standards, strange as they are. And sometimes I even feel a little embarrassed about having them. Does it ever work out well chasing after bad boys? Absolutely not. But the promise of excitement and a challenge is too much to pass up.

Even if it is all contained in my fantasies.

I finish cleaning up the insect nest and replace the paneling. It’s a simple task of finding the gap in the paneling and even easier patching it up.

“Nothing else is getting in here,” I say, patting it gently. Up ahead, I see a familiar ship landing in my lot. Captain Derchus steps out, looking frazzled as always. I wonder what he screwed up this time.

“Hey, Beth, think you can handle the lube change?” I ask.

Beth nods and smiles gently at me. She’s a kind girl. I appreciate her concern. But she doesn’t need to worry about me.

Somewhere out there is the right man for me, I know it. Even if it takes years, I’ll find him.

“Hello again, Captain. What can I do for you?”