Inner Workings

Inner Workings - Part 6

Cetz passed by Comp Tech again, finding Grant still plugging away at his computer in his office. There was a second slushie next to the first one. Cetz grimaced thinking about the sugar. The Head Comp Tech was in it for the long haul. And would be peeing a lot.

A Tech looked up from his desk. "He's been like that for a while. Do you want me to tell him you stopped by?"

Cetz shrugged turning around to leave. "Nah, I'll just come back later."

If Grant wasn't hounding him about the E.S.S. upgrades than he could get some paperwork done to further smooth things over with Watch One. God he hated kissing ass, especially when Watch One had been in the wrong, but someone had to do it. And it was always the highest on the pecking order that had to pucker up.

Sometimes he wished he hadn't been plucked out of Comp Tech.

Second desk in from the exit was a Comp Tech laid over his keyboard, dead to the world in dreams, a small puddle of drool inching towards the mouse pad.

Then again, Cetz liked the perk of having an office with a cot.

***

"First... second to the left." Milton pointed to the door in the long hallway where everything looked the same, like one of those dreams where you try to go somewhere and yet no matter how fast you run you never move. And he was still hungry, his stomach aching, ready to grumble its displeasure. There hadn't been a vending machine in sight when he was wandering the halls. After his meeting with the doctor he would have to ask someone where the cafeteria or break room was.

The sign next the door indicated that this was a lab, and the supervisor was Dr. Sampson. Perhaps her office was inside the lab. Though, looking through the thin strip of wire-reinforced window on the edge of the door, the lab was dark. Had he been too early?

Milton bucked his chin up. Early was a good thing. He'd just look inside, see if this was the right room, and if so, wait outside her office. If not, he still had time to look. He shuffled his papers to one arm and eased the door open, shuffling inside and patting his arm past the doorjamb to find the light switch. He flicked the light on and for a few seconds he was blinded with silent white walls and a large cage that took up half the room, full of plush and rubber toys. This didn't look like an office, though there were two swinging double doors on the opposite side of the room.

A piece of cucumber flew by his head and thudded wet against the wall. Milton's eyes bulged, and then took note of what was in the cage. A chimp, tired, cranky from being woken up, and next to a big bowl of untouched fresh fruits and vegetables, screamed.

Milton's voice was barely above a squeak. "Oh... you're not Dr. Sampson." He had a sinking feeling that not only was this not the right room; his day was going to get worse.

The chimp yelled and let loose a barrage of sticky foodstuffs that painted the walls and splattered on Milton's suit. Milton's papers dropped to the floor, and as he reeled back his shoulder hit the door, closing it, trapping him in with the angry primate.

"Help!" Trying to ward off the attack, with one arm he covered his face, with the other he crouched down, trying to pick up his papers. Instead his hand met with a grape and he threw it back. Then a slice of apple, a piece of melon. Within moments the exchange looked like a failed form of fruit juggling.

The door swung open, hitting the psychologist in the back, making him sprawl on the sticky floor.

"Bella!" A blonde woman in a lab coat walked in and within seconds the chimp had stopped throwing food, but it was still making indignant noises.

Milton gathered up his papers which had remained surprisingly dry during the attack.

"What are you doing here?" asked the woman, rounding on him with a scowl, hands on her hips.

Oh, this was not his day.

"Are you Doctor Sampson?" asked Milton, meekly. "I was looking for your office when I got lost."

"It's Rachel." The woman sighed and her hands dropped in resignation. "Get up; my office is on the other side of the hallway."

"The room..." Milton gestured to the Pollack colored walls.

"I'll send janitorial, this happens a lot. Move it."

"Her name is Bella?"

"Yes," said Rachel, getting impatient.

The man looked over Rachel's shoulder to the cage. "Sorry for the disturbance."

As the psychologist left the room, Rachel looked back at Bella, feeling bad that the sick chimp's nap had been disturbed after such a rough weekend full of fevers and feeding tubes. Then she paused. For the first time in days, Bella was voluntarily eating on her own. Eating the food that had been thrown back at her. Rachel tapped a pen against the palm of her hand, thinking as she followed Dr. Milton Balcuwitz across the hall.