How to Surf a Hurricane, Chapter 3
New to my solarpunk heist novel? Here’s chapter 1 and chapter 2.
Patty: Fluid Dynamics
“Eureka!” Patty shouted gleefully as the opposite side of her workshop was splattered in mock sewage.
Patty Smith was short, heavyset, and not at all a dancer. That didn’t stop her from doing a victory dance right then and there in her grimy coveralls.
Then she realized the pump was still running.
“Shit, shit, shit.” She fumbled for the off switch. Pump deactivated, she looked around. Her garage workshop was a mess. It had already been covered in mushroom-foam takeout containers she should have composted weeks ago, and now… I knew I should have checked those output seals. But it’s been so many failed prototypes. I can’t believe it’s finally working! She pulled out her phone.
“Hey, Victoria!” She pointed the camera at her workshop.
“Hey, Patty. Uh, what am I looking at here? I’d say it looks like your normal workshop, but somehow it’s even messier than usual,” she teased.
“My pump is working! The mess is from my pump!” She flipped the camera back to her grinning face.
“That’s wonderful! Should Azure and I come over to celebrate?”
“You betcha. Could you swing by the tool library and borrow a pressure washer on your way over?”
Victoria tapped her head. “Good idea. Over in twenty!”
Patty pulled out a mop and started cleaning, reminiscing. The idea had come to her while building a hurricane surfing foiljet boat with her friends Victoria and Azure. They were working in a cheap warehouse in Miami that’d been abandoned as part of the city’s “managed retreat” strategy. When the first King Tide struck last February, they found out why it was so cheap. When she opened the door to the bathroom, a wave of brown liquid exploded outward. Unable to stop the flow, they had to wait two hours in the stench before the tide receded and they could clean up and seal the drains.
After that, it was back to work on the boat.
But every time a King Tide came and she had to seal the bathrooms, she remembered that brown wave and promised herself, One day, I’m going to build an affordable sewage pump so that nobody has to live like this.
One week later, after her pump’s success made a disaster zone of her workshop, she bought a tailored suit and set up meetings with several VC investment firms in Miami.
Unfortunately, things didn’t go according to plan, and she came back to her workshop in a state of panic. She sat down on the sofa, clutching her knees, rocking back and forth, crying. What am I doing wrong? Why won’t anyone invest in me?
There was a knock at the door. She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. Pull it together, Patty. Can’t let anyone see you like this.
It was Victoria, wearing a concerned look. “Hey, is everything okay? I saw you bike past. You looked paler than usual.”
“Yeah.” Patty sniffled, vision still blurry. “No. Not really.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“I guess. That would be nice, yeah.” It’d be nicer for someone to invest in me, but maybe she’ll have some idea of what I’m doing wrong.
“Here, let me make you some tea and I’ll meet you on the sofa.” She disappeared to the kitchen, returning with two steaming mugs and handing one to Patty. “So, what happened? I’m guessing by the fact that you’re wearing a suit, and you never wear a suit, you were talking to investors about your pump?”
“Yeah.” Patty frowned, taking a deep inhale of the herbal aroma. “I was so excited. I pitched three investors today. But all of them rejected me! God, I’m so stupid. So naive. I have no clue what I’m doing.”
Victoria put a hand on Patty’s shoulder. “Hey. No you’re not. You’re the smartest person I know! I mean, just look at your pump. Like you said, it’s so much more efficient than any other sewage pump. It’s going to be revolutionary for anyone living on the coast.”
“Yeah. I guess.” Her vision cleared, but she still felt an urge to cry. “I built the pump. I want to help people. So why do they keep rejecting me?”
“What did they say?”
“It was all polite nonsense.” Patty put on a mocking tone. “This looks very promising, but our current fund is fully committed. It’s not a good fit for us right now. It doesn’t have enough traction.” She exhaled. “But none of it is true. They’re seeking investments, and they’ve invested in other companies with prototypes but no traction yet. What am I doing wrong?”
“I bet it’s because you’re a woman. Men are always so demeaning. They don’t think we can do what they do. We’ll show them!” Victoria’s face grew red with anger.
“That’s not it. My second pitch was to an all-woman VC.”
“Huh.” She paused. “Maybe they don’t like sewage and only invest in ‘sexy’ problems. You know, Web 5.0, AI 2.0, that sort of thing.” Her air quotes dripped with irony.
Patty shook her head. “My first pitch was to a VC focused on messy utility problems.”
“Really?” Victoria cocked her head. “What did they say?”
Patty took a thoughtful sip. “Well, I was pitching Nil at Petroff Power. Tall. Muscular. Really handsome.” She blushed. “He seemed really interested as I talked through the technology. Took lots of notes. But when I went to the business projections, he raised his hand to stop me. Said that it wasn’t a good fit for them right now.”
“Oh, that lying son-of-a…” She wrung her hands. “What did you do?”
“I tried to protest, but he waved me away.”
“Hmm.” Her eyes narrowed. “And what happened with the other two pitches?”
“It was weird. Maybe? I’m not really sure how these things are supposed to go. But when I was talking to the all-woman VC, an associate came in and whispered something in the Partner’s ear, and then they politely declined me mid-pitch.”
She patted Patty on the shoulder. “Dear, you’re a great engineer. But I think these business people are playing you.”
Like what you’re reading? Join the launch list for my new heist novel, How to Surf a Hurricane
