Plan B -- a blognovel :
Updated: 2/4/2003; 7:06:02 PM.

 









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Tuesday, February 04, 2003

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What's going on here? Pete says.

Well... I start, but the same suit that talked before interrupts me.

We are from Systems Integrated. The ... He says.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I say, You've said that already.

What? Pete says.

The system integrity alarm was triggered, I say.

Oh, Pete frowns, How strange.

Yeah, I say.

We spend the next few minutes looking at the consultants do their work. The move across screens silently, their hands touch-typing commands that I can't decipher. They don't coordinate or talk to each other. How do they know what to do? Maybe telepathy.

And why not? Their movements are the same, their clothes are the same, their haircuts are the same, they make the same humming noises as they, er... work. I wouldn't be surprised if, looking into the mouth of one of these guys, I found a small fan giving cool air to a similar board with processors that said MADE IN CHINA in all of them.

A new breed.

Suddenly I remember the elevators.

Is this why the elevators aren't working? I say.

All of the suits turn around in unison, a puzzled look on their faces. What's the problem with the elevators? One of them says.

That was a mistake. I realize that none of them have been doing anything but go through the screens. They haven't checked anything.

Nevermind, I say. There was a glitch earlier.

A glitch? they say. I can see their veins standing out on their necks, as if they were lifting weights. Tension. They must be thinking: Did we miss something?

Don't worry about it. It's fixed now. There are always glitches. These things happen, you know.

The magic words. A collective sigh goes through the room. Chuckles.

Yeah, one of them says. These things happen.

With that, they turn around and start to type again.

Pete walks closer. And Jordan? He says, hushing.

I don't...

The door opens.

And there is Jordan, coffee mug in hand, smiling at us.

I see we're having a little get-together, she says.

I just look at her.

A grimace. The alarm was triggered automatically, she says.

Yeah, but... I start, but the suit interrupts me again.

O-kay! he says, ebullient, Everything's just fine. The other suits immediately start packing their papers and pens and tapes on their suitcases. Case closed, apparently.

Really, I say. So what happened?

All movements stops. The suits freeze in place. Uh-oh.

Oh, he says, we don't know. We have been looking at the logs. There was a system restore earlier tonight, but not much else. A glitch. You know, these things happen.

I can tell that he is almost pleading: Please, make it go away. Please accept my ridiculous excuse.

Please.

Wow, maybe there is a human being underneath the suit after all.

Yeah, I say, These things happen. Heheheh.

Heeeheheh! He laughs.

Jordan looks at us as if we're insane.

These things happen.

 

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7:04:29 PM    

© Copyright 2003 Diego Doval.



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