She’d already wasted almost half an hour on this. She glanced at the clock that hung on the wall. She couldn’t fix it herself, and it needed to be done, so she would have to call IT to come and fix it for her. Lois sighed and sat back in her chair, resting her stiff back and admitting defeat. If she didn’t get these names to copy, she could find herself serving prison time, possibly in maximum security, possibly in space, possibly even facing execution. It could be seen as a hate crime, a war crime, or an act of sabotage against the Alliance Treaties. At worst, it was treason against the governments of Teiss, as well as the United Nations of Earth.
If Lois couldn’t get this done, it was at best criminal negligence and cause for instant dismissal. It was too easy for someone to fall through the cracks on a journey through space, and Earth didn’t want Teiss accusing them of anything. In other words, a group of displaced people from Teiss had arrived on Earth, and it was Lois’ job to confirm the names and data so that everything was official and above-board. The purpose of the interface was to share with the Alliance governments the records of the safe arrival and processing of the most recent intake of Teissian refugees. Lois suppressed a growl and glared instead, closing the message, re-selecting the names, then trying again to drag them into the folder. So when the text box came up, “Error” was about the only word she understood. She was learning Rhacahr, but what she had was basic. Their software was out of sync with the Rhacahr software again, and she couldn’t fix it herself. She stared at the screen in front of her like it was a puzzle to solve, searching for the answer as if it was written in a corner somewhere, though she knew from experience it wasn’t. “I don’t want to call IT,” Lois grumbled in response, her lips half-hidden behind her curled fingers, her chin propped in her palm. Lois had her back to the window so she could feel the sun, but Susan could see the sky, so they never argued over who sat where. They shared the Intake Office with four other people, their desks arranged facing each other in two rows of three, but their shifts were organised so that they were often alone in there. “Just call IT,” Susan suggested, watching sympathetically from across the aisle.
0 kommentar(er)
