Left-Handed Engineers From MARZ
Marsh and Zephyr

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At only 10:00 AM Zephyr had already had enough of people. After phone conversations with two overenthusiastic telemarketers and his mother the night before, and an insurance claims rep with a chip on his shoulder this morning (and then there was the wiseass cashier at the donut shop), his confidence had been beaten to a fine mush. He scanned his datebook and was relieved to see that he had no out-of-office appointments.

"I think today I'll do some engineering," he said to no one in particular. It'd be nice; he could do some bonding with Reg, get a chance to participate in the assembly of some of the latest projects, and brush up on his hands-on skills. He'd been focusing on client relations and administrative crap far too much lately. It would be wonderful to spend an entire day not talking to anyone... and perfectly timed, too.

Someone knocked on the door. "C'min," Zephyr grumbled.

It was Marsh. He leaned against the arm of the sofa and looked at Zephyr. And looked. Zephyr sought some diplomatic way to say, "What are you gawking at?" but failed to come up with one.

"hey," said Marsh.

"Mmm," said Zephyr.

"How are you?" said Marsh.

"Mff," said Zephyr. I'm not quite up to being alive today, but since I have no choice in the matter, I can at least avoid everyone, including you.

"Is something wrong?" asked Marsh.

"No, nothing's wrong," snapped Zephyr.

"Oh, okay. I... um..."

"What?"

Marsh sighed heavily. "It's not important. I'll just..." And he left.

I handled that badly, Zephyr thought. Oh well, I was bound to alienate him sooner or later. It was a lousy idea to let him think we could become friends. Marsh was the type of person who could make friends and keep them, for years at a time sometimes. Zephyr didn't know how to explain to him that a friendship between them was impossible. Marsh had so far managed to come to terms with... well, everything about Zephyr that usually sent people running in fear. Even his relationship with Reg. Hell, Marsh even made an effort to like Reg himself. How can you argue down that? Marsh was so tolerant he was downright noble. But that didn't change the fact that Zephyr was... well, Zephyr.

Zephyr slipped through the corridor, careful to look preoccupied so none of his co-workers would bother him, and took the elevator down to the workroom. Reg was hard at work on his latest baby, a robot that did something or other. Zephyr couldn't remember which client it was for, but that was all right, he reassured himself; he was allowed to be distracted by his own moodiness once in a while.

"Hey, Reg."

Reg looked up, which was more than Zephyr had expected him to do. Zephyr grinned at him and Reg went back to work without so much as blinking. Sighing to himself, Zephyr wandered over to the stack of papers on the counter and riffled through it until he found the specs to the turning chairlift. The great thing about Reg's notes was that once you learned his system, they were extremely easy to follow. Even his concept sketches were uncannily precise.

He settled in to drown his melancholy in nuts and bolts and hydraulic tubing. It felt good to disappear into a world of his own, whose only occupants were the contents of his toolbox and some plans that were so clearly mapped out that he barely had to think about them. There was nobody who expected him to say just the right thing in just the right way, no one to question his ability to perform a task, or to question his value as a person. Nobody expected anything out of him.

Well, okay, the specs expected him to have an 5" up lift restraint bracket at his disposal. He struggled to his feet and went to the small parts cabinet to see what there was available.

The door to the stairwell opened and Marsh walked past him to his own workspace. Marsh nodded at him cautiously, and he nodded back even more cautiously.

"Hey, Zeph."

Zephyr tried to ignore Marsh, but he could feel his eyes upon him. There had to be something he could say... he considered being defensive, offensive, and even self-depracating, but it all sounded pathetic. He felt like he was going to explode, or at least panic. What was it about him that made people treat him like a bug in a jar - first stare at him, and then squash him? Well, he wasn't going to let Marsh get to the squashing part. Instead, he'd... um....

"Zephyr, are you okay? Anything I can do?"

That was the setup for the squash; Zephyr just knew it. "No," he said. On a whim, he chose the offensive approach. He looked Marsh squarely in the eye. "Is there something you want to say?"

Marsh's stare took on an astonished quality. "I... guess not."

"Oh."

"I guess I was just angry."

"At me?" That didn't come out as indignant as Zephyr had intended.

"Of course not. At myself. I don't know, I think this whole deal with Nancy is getting to me. I have the urge to vent, but there's nothing to say, really. I'm just being stupid."

Zephyr blinked at Marsh. "You've been chasing me around all morning because you wanted to vent."

"No! Maybe. I wasn't chasing you; we've only been in the same room three times all day. Why, what did you think I was doing? Stalking you?"

"No! Well, maybe."

"God, Zephyr, you're beyond weird." Marsh smirked. "I'd bury myself in my work, but that's what got me into this mess in the first place. I'm beginning to hate people. In general, I mean."

"You're in good company, then."

"But it's not right. I've always had lots of people to turn to, but I never needed any of them. Now that my life is falling apart, everyone has something better to do than waste their time with me. My own mother told me to stop being unreasonable. My father, I could see, but... sheesh, and my kids... don't get me started about them. I changed their diapers for years! I taught them to play catch, drove them to games and sat through recitals, helped them with their blasted math homework, and now Nancy has them claiming I was some sort of absentee father! Like nothing I ever did counted for squat!"

"I know absentee fathers and you're not it," Zephyr offered sympathetically.

"It's like everyone simultanously decided to write me out of their lives. Next thing you know, I'm going to lose the company. I keep waking up half-expecting to find out that MARZ has been bought out behind my back. Just like Eureka Custom was."

"Dude, we're not going to sell you out. You're as paranoid as... as I am. Come on, what would we do without you?"

"Yeah, I know. But still."

"Yeah. Hey, at least you got to vent."

Marsh laughed. "I did, didn't I? Well then, time to bury myself in my work."

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