[10 jobs or professions] Onion planter Fish canner Power loom maintenance technician Professional medical test subject Loan approval officer Submarine engine mechanic Bush pilot Quarry worker Bomb technician Gardener [10 places] Garden Church Laboratory Farm Bank vault Aircraft carrier bridge Space station control room Salt mine Sandlot Oyster bed [2 numbers between 1 and 10 inclusive] 6 and 9 -> Submarine engine mechanic working in a sandlot Jacob showed up for work early. The naval base was new, built just five years ago, part of the staging area for the war, now over and seeming a bit like ancient history. He parked his car in the lot outside the front gate and walked to the guard station and flashed his ID. The men guarding the gate slid the chainlink and barbed wire gate aside and he slipped through and took the keys to the little jeep out of his pocket and tossed them in the seat. Being a senior mechanic had its perks, he decided. He liked the little olive drab colored car. He grabbed the rollbar and hauled himself into the driver's seat, fished for the keys from where he'd tossed them, and keyed the ignition. He tore off through the base. He could always get away with being a little reckless during days when not many men were on base, if he showed up early. The wheels slid a little as he slid around a corner and headed toward the towering dockside buildings. As he got close, he grinned and gunned the engine, and hit the large patch of sand and slid to a stop right next to his assigned parking space. He figured that if they were going to build shipyards right on top of the sandlot he played ball in as a kid, he was going to keep on having childish fun there as long as they let him. Kelly looked up from his book, and saluted lazily from the guard station. Jacob put on his best nonchalant look and slipped inside the giant building. The building was full, a long, dark hull stretched into the distant end, the torpedo shape impossible to mistake. He dragged his feet in the soft sand, left inside the building since there was no need for anything but shelter from rain to do the work he did. He took a toolbox from the shelves and paced down the length of the craft until he met the access door, the night crew left it open for him to continue. He took the heavy checklist out and started. Three hundred identical bolts, check for wear and replace them all. Trace every length of pipe, checking for cracks and worn joints. Hundreds of thousands of parts, all documented in minute detail in shelves of binders.