“When you are forty, do you think that you will still be working as an engineer?”

Fidalgo leaned a little to the left from where he was near the right hand engine side, as the plane was seen from behind, and looked at Michael who was on the other side of the engine.

“I don’t know. Maybe you can tell me, since you are almost forty.” Michael smiled. “Just kidding,” he grabbed the filter and carefully removed it. “I think I’ll still be an engineer. And maybe even when I am fifty.” he set the dirty filter down beside him and took the card with the pages of the manual from the back. He looked at the next step to make sure before he started. “But you never know. I might be off to Portugal again by then.”

Fidalgo nodded and tried to fit the tool where he wanted it to tighten a bolt in order to install the spinner.

“I see” he muttered under his breath. He was doing an easy task. A lot of bolts were in weird places and it was taking long to tighten, just because of the tight spot. If anyone asked him how someone would do something like that, he would welcome them to the world of aircraft engineers. However, now he had a nice access.

“I heard Carlos is coming on Saturday?” he threw the question at Michael.

Michael and Carlos didn’t know each other at all. Several engineers at Street at this time were Portuguese, but most of them did not know each other before coming and immigrating to Street and therefore to Belgium. Michael met Carlos and they had worked together on several tasks at work in Belgium. So they had become quite good friends and they became quite close. If someone wanted to ask something about Carlos, like where he was and so on, they would ask Michael. The other way around was also true.

“Yes, he will come, but only on Saturday. He has to look at some recurring fault for the BMC* 1 and gives a maintenance status, he told me,” Michael replied and carefully took the new filter out of the bag. He kept the bag with the Batch Number and the papers. “He had gone on holiday to Portugal.”

“Yes, I know. With his girlfriend, I imagine?” Fidalgo asked and stepped back. He grabbed the torque wrench for the bolts.

“I don’t think so. She went to see her parents in France. She’s French, anyway.”

Fidalgo turned off the flashlight he had on the band around his head. “I see,” he said, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “Do you want any help there or not? If not, I’ll go and open some findings** on the computer.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Michael replied, even though his bold head looked shiny and sweaty. “Go ahead.”

Fidalgo wiped his hands on a white cloth, which turned black from the grease, on the table next to them and gathered his tools to put back in the shared red toolbox, before going to one of the two shared external computers.

                                                                                        ***

“Good morning, Evi.”

The dark-haired Greek woman looked at him with her black eyes over her large myopia glasses. Her eyeliner was a perfect line, as every single day.

“I want a favor,” Fidalgo said.

“Yes, of course,” the young girl said in a singing voice. “Tell me.”

If someone saw Evi for the first time, the first word that would come to their mind would be words like ‘sour’ and its synonyms, such as ‘bitch’, or rbf, known as 'resting bitch face'. Despite her young age, only twenty-four, she  seemed a little older. Maybe the makeup, the clothes, and the drinks she downed at parties on the weekends were to blame, but when someone saw her, without makeup and in pajamas, they would think she was sixteen. Of course, only she and a very few exes knew this.

However, the first impression that Fidalgo had, like many others, was that Evi was a posh girl who thought that she was someone. Especially if someone saw her in the morning, she looked like she wanted to kill anyone who spoke to her. In appearance, she was quite tall and looked like those strict teachers they used to have at school, during the Fidalgo era. Maybe in a younger and more modern outfit. An engineer once joked that she looked like the women who play teachers in porn. But if you knew her, and if you talked to her, you would understand that she had nothing to do with all the above.

She was good, kind and a supreme multitasking robot. She would talk to you and already do what you asked her and three other things at the same time. She was also funny, often with black humor, like these jokes that she would say and laugh to herself, since she liked it anyway, and after a while everyone had a respect for her and a special sympathy. She had become like one of everyone's little sister in there.

"I've made something stupid. I've done a mistake on the system while opening findings and I want to fix it before you print it out and do your own thing later." He grabbed the empty office chair next to Evi's desk. "Can I tell you the numbers of the findings?" Evi was already typing on her computer like a damned robot and had entered the system. “Oh, I found them, no need. José Fidalgo. The last two? 1415 and 1416?”

“Yes,” he replied and moved the chair closer to hers.

“What do you want?” she spoke.

“Just to change the description. Instead of ‘wheel’, to write ‘wheels’.”

Evi looked at him over her glasses. “That’s all?”

“Yes,” he replied. “That’s all,” he said and got up from his chair. “Let me know if you prepare it and print it, by the way.”

“Let it go through the CRS*** first and then we’ll talk.”

Fidalgo smiled. Evi returned the smile. It was rare to see this girl smile. She seemed like a good kid, but quite serious. Not that he was falling behind either.

"Evi."

The next person had already taken the girl's time slot.

Fidalgo took a few steps back and turned to leave the office and head for the hangar outside.

* BMC : Bleed Monitoring Computer. A computer that monitors, regulates, and protects the aircraft bleed air system by controlling bleed valves and detecting faults.

** Findings : Often called NRC (Non-Routine Card) are problems or non-compliances discovered during routine inspections, audits, maintenance, or investigations.

*** CRS : CRS staff are the licensed or authorized personnel who issue a CRS (Certificate of Release to Service). CRS staff can Certify maintenance tasks, Sign aircraft logbooks, Release aircraft or components to service, Accept completed work from technicians, Take legal responsibility for the work signed etc.