Replacement
There’s a trope so common that no one is clear when it’s a joke: the parent, forced by a child’s wayward behaviour, says “this will hurt me more than it hurts you”, just before administering punishment.
That’s how it felt, right then. The mechanic, or technician, or whatever she was, didn’t actually use the line, but it was there in her eyes. She just sighed, after the inspection, and shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid it’s a case of complete replacement. This one’s just had it.”
It wasn’t the news I wanted to hear, obviously. And it wasn’t what I was expecting to hear either, really; although there is always that little nagging voice in the back of your head that says “but what if…?”. I mean come on! This is the 2070s, we can put people on Ganymede, surely this can’t be impossible? But I guess there are still some things that just can’t be done.
Or can’t be done economically, at any rate. And you know what? Whatever the advances we seem to make in hyperfluidics or integrated photonics or, I don’t know, fucking eyebrow management services, it’s always the basic mechanical stuff that just does for us in the end. A bit’s come loose that can’t be refastened, and you have to trash the whole thing. It sucks.
So here we were.
Ah well. Nothing lasts for ever, and I should be more sanguine about it. But it hurts.
I cleared my throat. “So, er,” I began, “what kind of timescale are we looking at here? Before failure, I mean. Is it like, tomorrow? Or are we talking next six months, or what?”
She took off her gloves and moved over to the sink to clean up. She didn’t look at me.
“Hard to say,” she said, and I thought she shrugged a little, as if to get responsibility off her shoulders.
They always say that. Not helpful. Even if it’s true.
“What I can say,” she continued, after a pause, “is that you’ve lost any reliability. At all. Total failure in the next day, or week, isn’t that likely, but it’s a definite possibility. I’m sorry. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”
She dried her hands, and turned round to look at me again. “I know it’s hard to let go,” she said, “especially when it’s done such good service for you.” She looked the floor. “We do have on-site facilities…and we could potentially take it now…” She trailed off.
The voice next to me was brisk, businesslike, and yet… “Okay,” it said, “do it. I’m just not sure I’ll get another human, though.” It touched me briefly; the metal felt cold and heavy on my shoulder. “Goodbye, old thing. I hope it’s quick for you.” And it walked briskly out of the vet’s.