The Many Regrets of a Cyborg Werewolf

Reiteration - XV

Efficiency. A human word for a human concept. The notion that aspects of a procedure are enacted effectively and in a timely, perpetuating manner. Each aspect directly facilitating the next, either by an individual or individuals. It was, to Angela, the measure of success as much as the results. It was how she governed her actions, managed her day-to-day life, and weighed the value of those in her employ. Results were not her top priority during experimentation, as that concept was defined by its attempts to discover the unknown, and whether or not discoveries were found was never a guarantee. Failure was as common, if not moreso, a facet of science than successful discovery. It was unrealistic and unsustainable to expect breakthroughs on the daily, and she had long ago outgrown that juvenile sense of instant gratification. Efficiency, therefore, stood as the only quantifiable metric of success. If every part of a machine moved efficiently, that was all that could be reasonably expected. For people to do their jobs, do them properly, and without issue. This was the cleanliness of a plan. Plans were conceptual machines, existing among shared minds and interlinked, efficient behaviour. They may exist on paper, or in this modern era, digitally as an outline, but a plan is the brain's automaton, with each subsequent brain working beneath a piece of the machine.

It was thus that inefficient behaviour was abject failure. When a piece did not move with the others. When that machine began to operate improperly. A gear grinding against another. A chain come loose. When a real machine broke down the only option was to repair it. Find the damaged part, replace it, and move on. However, when one of those parts was decidedly harder to find a replacement, it became more complicated. That was where Angela found herself now, as she pondered behind her desk. The pedantic routines of running a business were hardly a task for her, which left her with moments of free time such as this for critical self-reflection. It was only with the gentle knocking on her office door that she tabled her thoughts for the moment.

"Come in," she said, allowing her assistant to enter. In truth the knock was unnecessary. Angela heard the keypad being activated, and even beyond that she had Jessica's footsteps in earshot from two floors down. She had also picked up on her scent almost immediately upon entering the building that morning. The young woman wore a modest perfume that was likely barely perceptible to many, and was more a consideration of her employer's heightened sense. One of many courtesies, such as the knocking, that Angela appreciated.

"I rescheduled the board meeting as you requested," Jessica began, wasting no time, "we have also been in contact with our police liaison regarding the incident. Their inquiries were diverted as usual, and they remain interested in the initiative." The assistant adjusted her glasses, "if anything they seem more willing now."

"A silver lining," Angela sighed as she reclined in her chair. She fidgeted with her hands, an unbecoming habit that Angela typically tried to avoid, especially in front of underlings. Eventually the unrest got the better of her, and she stood up from her desk. Without saying a word she made her way to the concealed elevator as before, stopping just after its doors opened.

"Come," she said, and Jessica obediently complied. The two women entered the elevator and were quickly transported below ground once more, entering the sub-level laboratories. Engineers and scientists gave them a wide berth as Angela made her way to the same room she had before, only this time the doors were open as medical staff came to and from. Inside was the adjustable bed, as before, but now it was occupied by the man Jessica had seen. He no longer wore his coat, in fact he wore nothing above the waist aside from an oxygen mask, a mechanical device grafted to his chest, and a large, bloody wound in his abdomen. Jessica was mildly disturbed by the sight, at least that's what Angela deduced from her sudden spike of adrenaline and slight increase in her breath and heart rate, but if the young woman had any misgivings she kept them to herself. Angela, meanwhile, had her own complicated stew of emotions to process, and watched as the injured and near-death Alabaster struggled to look at her.