Feminist Queendom 8 © Copyright to Beverly Guinevere Taff,

List of Characters.
Charlie Sage Maths and electronics genius.
Shirley Sage Charlies elderly mother
Chloe Charlie’s one time early school friend.
Josephine Flint Surgeon and associate of Chloe’s.
Mrs Anston Director of Anston Aerospace.
Ronnie Garage mechanic at top of lane
Pauline Garage owner, Ronnie’s sister.
Briony Pauline’s teenaged daughter.
Billy Pauline’s middle son.
Abigail (Abby) Pauline’s youngest daughter.
‘Poppy’ Charlie’s little micro-runabout.
‘Doris’ The armoured mobile home.
‘Lady’ Chloe’s Sports Car.

Chapter 8

Back at his workbench, Charlie was chewing on his baguette while reflecting that he had no windows illuminating his work-space, indeed the whole factory floor had no windows, it being lit only with high luminosity lights. His was a dark secluded corner but for the intense light illuminating his work-top. It irked him slightly that those executive women upstairs enjoyed wide panoramic windows with bright daylight and excellent views across the city while he worked away down in the poorly lit ‘boon-docks’.

To take his mind off the glaring inequalities surrounding his life and his job, he returned to the component he had been repairing before he had been ordered upstairs to meet the military. He had been testing some high voltage circuitry and as a precaution he had now slipped on his fine-meshed metal ‘ground suit’ under his overalls to protect himself from any electrical or static shocks. Before resuming the repair work he had ‘earthed’ the component preparatory to taking any high voltage or high amperage readings.

His ‘ground-suit was thus ‘earthed’ to both his work-bench and the workshop floor for protection and served as a faraday-cage to protect his person.

Beside him the maintenance manual lay open and he was engrossed in reading the relevant page when he sensed the presence behind him.
He did not react but simply continued chewing his baguette while reading the manual and examining the component.

Still ignoring the presence behind him, he marked two items on the manual page then turned the broken component around and secured it in the jig. He knew the visitor was waiting for him to acknowledge her presence but he deliberately ignored her as he carefully inserted the isolation key in the inspection panel mechanism. The panel cover plate became free and Charlie lifted it clear to set it aside before carefully inspecting the unit.

As he leant in with the screwdriver poised to insert into the dedicated release-screw, the medical officer could contain her impatience no longer.

“Are you going to acknowledge my presence Page?”

“I didn’t know you were there; and it’s Mister Page to you.”

His seeming total lack of subservience infuriated her and she seethed with anger.

“You are talking to a military officer with field rank and you’ll show respect! Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I am a civilian and I’m not bound by any military regulations. What d’ you want?”

“Firstly, you can turn and face me when you talk to me.”

He still refused to look away from his work as he explained.

“There will shortly be several thousand volts kicking through this breaker system and I don’t want to be short circuiting anything in this component by not looking at what I’m doing or giving it my full attention. If you want my attention, go back to Mrs Anston and get her permission. Meanwhile I have work to get on with, so – if you don’t mind.”

His persistent lack of subservience or respect finally got under the impatient medical officer’s skin and she resorted to the feminista last resort. She decided she needed to teach him some respect so, from her hand-bag she took out her military obedience-taser and set it to stun. Without warning him she aimed at his back and fired the two-pronged needle at his spine.

The results were totally unexpected and also spectacular. Instead of the needles plunging into Charlie’s back they struck the fine mesh of his ‘ground-suite’ and the ensuing short-circuit immediately caused a high voltage arcing envelope of ionised air around Charlie that resembled the ‘St Elmo’s fire’ effect of a lightning strike.

For a moment, the whole factory floor was lit up by the brilliant glow and the other men who were working nearest to Charlie were similarly bathed in the same eerie green envelope. Fortunately, they were not injured but they were frightened momentarily by the sudden and wholly unexpected event.

Not so for the medical officer who’s short-circuited taser had immediately incinerated as the feed-back along the wires had caused it to ignite and burn her fingers. She let out a squeal of pain and dropped the taser on the floor where it crackled and fizzed momentarily before melting at her feet.

“Aaah!” She cursed as she shook her scorched fingers and glared at a totally unaffected Charlie.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Me? I’ve done nothing! What did you think you were doing?”

“You’ll hear more of this you bloody ape!” She cursed as she dashed to the first aid station by the main doors.

Typically, the first-aid station, - designed for men – by women, proved to be a rudimentary wall box with a few bandages and plasters but nothing to treat burns.

Furthermore, the designated first-aider was apprehensive about treating a woman and it was several moments before he stepped forward to treat her. His hesitancy caused her further irritation as she cursed him.

“Don’t just stand there like an ape. Don’t you have any antiseptic ointments or washes?”

“Uuhm, no ma-am. Just bandages and plasters. We mostly deal in cuts and other wounds. We’ve got a defibrillator for electric shocks and chest injuries.”

She cursed and reached for the doors but her scorched fingers were too painful to tug at the heavy handles and she stood momentarily helpless until Charlie had disconnected his ground-suit and produced his own tube of antiseptic ointment from his overall pocket. After quickly removing his fine-mesh gloves, he washed his hands before carefully taking her fingers and spreading them wide to apply his own personal supply of ointment.

The pain soon subsided as the ointment both sterilised and anesthetised her fingers. Finally Charlie left the first-aider to carefully bandage her individual fingers and she could finally begin to function. Eventually she calmed down for she had been forced to realise it had been her own fault. She not even warned Charlie that she intended tasering him.

“You’d better take me back to the board-room. It’s hard to open doors like this.”

Charlie remained silent but knew there would be accusations flying around so he took the pre-emptive step of accompanying the medical officer back to the top floor.

Back in the board room heads turned questioningly when they saw the medical officer’s bandaged hands. Charlie remained silent and waited for the inevitable recriminations. The feminista culture had long ago degenerated into the same previously ‘male-macho-blame-culture’ as latter-day female executives moved to stab or climb over each-others backs.

Few knew better than Charlie that the rat-race still prevailed, the only difference being that the rats were no longer physically violent He reflected to himself that ‘Hell had no fury like a woman scorned.’ The results were the same so he waited for the blame game to start.

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