Hey there, Delilah

Delilah wafts down the corridors of The Aurora. She has no intentions.

She'd had them once. Intentions. For the first few years after her death, she had plenty.

She'd tried being a part of the life of the living. That presence they couldn't explain hanging over their shoulders. Just out of sight. A thing there to them, and yet not there.

But she'd seen how their lives had moved on without her. It had made her depressed. Little by little, she'd drifted away. She didn't even know where her people were now.

It doesn't matter. Nothing matters. All is just the relentless, endless march of time. Time is cruel when there is no end. And you're alone.

There are new people. All different kinds of people. She's seen them now and then. Mostly, she just ignores them.

She used to love being alone. But it's different when you don't choose it. When is not your choice, the loneliness is torture.

She pauses. Drifts left. Then right.

Maybe…. Just maybe…she could try again.

She's gotten used to her ethereal form now, after all. She can move objects. She knows how to moan in the right decibel to be heard. If she tries, maybe she can make her presence tangible. She's come close before.

She'll do it.

Where did those pesky living beings go to, anyway? She hasn't been paying attention.

She listens. Feels with her soul.

Up there. To the left. Two rooms and three hallways away. A tinkling.

She takes the short cut through the walls.

Inside the room, a tagwam sits in all it's fluffy glory cross-llegged on the floor. Manuals of various sorts are scattered around it. Greasy tools are piled up everywhere.

It holds a book close to its face. Delilah floats up to read the title.

“Star Drives for Dummies.”

The tagwam grunts and tosses the book right through Delilah. It disperses her every which way.

After a moment, she reassembles herself. She trails after the creature, who has grabbed a wrench and stomped over to a set of pipes. It cranks down on several bolts.

“They're all snug!” it growls. “So why in the sands hell is it not working!?”

Delilah drifts closer to the pipes and inspects them. She tracks them down the wall to a large piece of complicated looking machinery.

Familiar. Why is it all so familiar?

She can't quite put a spectral finger on it.

The tagwam drops back down into its pile of books. It grabs a different one and reads.

Delilah is uncertain. Should she pick up a book? Moan? Try to become corporeal?

This person seems frustrated. Angry. Definitely unhappy.

She's not certain her visitation would go over well with the poor creature. It's dealing with a problem. She probably shouldn't add to it.

What is the problem? She wonders.

The machinery, obviously. What she can only assume is a star drive. The book it's presently reading is called, “Star Drive Mechanics.”

Star drive! She knows about star drives! She remembers now! She knew all about them when she was alive.

She rushes over to the machinery. Inspecting every nook and cranny, she loses track of time.

The tagwam takes its book over to a control panel. It looks at the gauges, then the book, and then back at the gauges. Taps one or two. Shakes its head. Sitting back down, it drops the book on the floor.

Delilah hovers over the book. The tagwam had been looking at the wrong settings. Delilah flips the page over.

Startled, the being looks around the room for the source of the breeze. Then it sees what's on the new page.

“Ah! The intact dial is in the wrong range! What was I thinking?”

It gets up and adjusts a dial on the control panel. Flipping a switch, it tries to start the drive.

A whoomp whomp wop sound ensues, accompanied by a whistling.

Something is still off. It's not just the noises. The pressure gauge isn't right either.

The tagwam scowls. It flips the switch back off. The machinery slowly drops back down to silence.

Delilah spins in annoyed circles. Without being able to run diagnostic tests, it's difficult to determine what's not working.

She returns to the tagwam. How to tell it what tests to run? She thinks. Gazes at the stack of books.

One of these has to be about diagnostic testing. There! That one! With the orange cover!

It's on top of a tall stack of books. If she can just get it in front of this person then maybe….

She concentrates, but goes right through the tomes.

With a newly focused effort, she tries again. This time, she topples the pile. The book careens through the air at the unsuspected fur ball.

The tagwam squeals. It sighs. Then it looks at the book in front of it.

“Basic Star Drive Diagnostic Parameters.”

Intrigued, it picks it up and skims through the pages.

Meanwhile, Delilah gets bored. She wanders off. Looking over the star drive again, she goes inch by inch. She has all the time in the world, after all.

Then she finds it. A crack. In one of the pipes. Just a little thing, but big enough to be a problem. Big enough that, if that creature gets this thing running, it could blow up.

Now what? How's she supposed to communicate that?

The furry being drops its book. It picks up a scanner and scans the drive.

She's looking in the wrong place.

Delilah gets an idea. She goes over to the pipe with the crack in it. Making one finger as solid as she can, she taps. Continuously.

“What now,” says the tagwam. But it dutifully follows the noise. Isolating the sound, it narrows in on the right pipe. Scans it. Finds the crack.

“Oh, my,” it exclaims. Without hesitation, it finds a fitting and clamps it down over the leaky pipe.

“That's one problem solved,” it says, “thanks my friend. Now, do you think you could make sure I haven't missed anything else? I'd be ever so grateful.”