“The name is Felix Quick, but people just call me Fix,” the apparition hovering to Steve’s right said.
He motioned towards the manifold from where dark smoke was climbing into space like a field of birds launching to the air in slow motion.
Fix’s ghostly head passed through the manifold plate. A moment later it emerged, and with a cartoonish frown Fix said, “Looks bad.”
“I know it’s bad, Felix. Is it repairable?”
The hologram stared back, as if it were stuck on pause.
“Oh for shit’s sake,” Steve exclaimed. After waiting for a series of seconds that seemed to stretch for years, he continued, “Okay. Okay. Fix, can you repair it?”
“Of course! Repair drones dispatched. Fix Quick, out!”