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The Secret Journal of Mason Grey Eckhart part 2
08:45am 22 February 2007
Dr Steyn
Mood: Mischievous
By neither word nor sign has Dr Steyn given any hint that she figured out who left the hearts on her desk.
Looks like I have nothing to worry about.
02:57pm 10 March 2007
Catching Up
Mood: Amused
Dr Varady doesn't read these entries, thank God, but she does ask if I'm still making them. Weary of her constant queries, I will attempt to bring things up to date.
The second Lie-to-the-Community Dinner was as scintillating as the first, with the notable absence of Dr Harrison. I drafted the lovely Dr Steyn to once again attend. She gave me a rather nasty look when I told her she had to be there, too...not good...but it is good that she was there, because Thomasina INSISTED upon taking the Community Leaders (who defines these people???) on a plant tour, and sure enough, she damn near took them into the podding area. Only Dr Steyn's quick canter to the front of the pack and Thomasina served to avert a disaster in the making.
How DO you explain podding to civilians?
You don't. Ever.
And the food was again horrible just to look at.
I caught Mayakovsky making jokes about how I probably sleep in black pinstripe jammies. If he only KNEW...
10:23am 11 March 2007
Thomasina
Mood: Determined
The marmalade cat woman was in here again getting my signature for yet another sumptuous repast of overcooked food.
"Mystery fowl or pasta with mystery nuggets?" I asked. She didn't think it was funny. "Green vegetable mush or yellow/orange vegetable mush?" She didn't find that amusing, either, and she looked angry when I asked if dessert would be piecrust with a smear of Unknown Fruit. I should look into whether she has a relative in the business.
I'm glad I don't eat this stuff anymore.
Now, how do I rope Dr Steyn into Round 3, without her flashing HER claws at me?
08:56 AM 12 March 2007
As Feared and Dreaded
Mood: Melancholy
As feared and dreaded, the lovely Dr Steyn flexed her unlovely claws and flashed fearsome fangs when I told her that her presence was required at the next Communications Dinner (AKA Lie to the Community and Fill Their Bellies with Bland and Overcooked Food). She practically hissed and walked sideways.
But I don't want to be there alone with the marmalade cat woman, who cannot keep her sticky, fawning paws off of me.
I have to rope at least one other technical victim. I cannot find any of them this morning. They're hiding somewhere. The library? Behind the autoclaves? Dr Teuong? Nobody would warn him I'm stalking dinner-victims. What if he IS a vegetarian and runs in horror from the Mystery Fowl?
06:10 AM 14 March 2007
Deep Thoughts
Mood: Determined
I must have walked miles last night wandering through assorted offices, labs, storage areas (pods and more), secret areas, junk storage areas, thinking Deep Thoughts about all kinds of things.
The wretched marmalade cat woman Thomasina wants to add a child beauty contest to the Genomex picnic. Standing outside with flies walking on me and watching employees eat hotdogs and hamburgers with charred portions is bad enough, but bitty little girls made up to look like sleazes? Is this the Genomex Way?
Who can I burden with this project? Who is on my list...
Dr Steyn left me a convoluted email trying to weasel out of the Lie to the Community Dinner, something about an ACS meeting. Genomex always has priority, yes? This could come down to a contest of wills.
Found this stuck to a board in the autoclave room last night:
Just in case you've had a rough day, here is a stress management technique recommended in all the latest psychological texts. The funny thing is that it really works.
1. Picture yourself near a stream.
2. Birds are softly chirping in the cool mountain air.
3. No one but you knows your secret place.
4. You are in total seclusion from the hectic place called "the world."
5. The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of serenity.
6. The water is crystal clear.
7. You can easily make out the face of the person you're holding underwater.
03:21pm 24 March 2007
Anticipation is Half the Fun
Mood: Stressed
Tomorrow evening I get to experience the joy and delight of once more Lying to the Community about what a fine corporate neighbor Genomex is.
Well, it could be far worse: we don't discharge incinerated materials ordinarily forbidden on Sunday afternoons when the regulatory boys and girls are not around, not like some companies do...but still...
I'm not looking forward to explaining last week's spill of ethanol into the creek and thence into the lake (probably made a few fish giddy, but nothing worse) but it did not look good having people out there all day collecting samples. The neighbors notice these things...and right now the attorneys are reviewing the latest and greatest version of the official Genomex spill statement.
The marmalade cat woman says tomorrow we'll all get Mystery Fish, well, not me...
04:38pm 25 March 2007
Random Glares
Mood: Naughty
I decided to take a stroll around the facilities this afternoon and toss some glares at random, just to keep everyone alert.
I thought Dr Steyn was going to throw a fistful of 5 mL volumetric flasks at me when I reminded her of tonight's "Lie to the Community Dinner" [& that's exactly what I called it, too] & how I expected her there.
08:34 AM 26 March 2007
Mood: Indescribable
Even the marmalade cat woman seemed subdued after last night’s “Lie to the Community” dinner.
Predictably, questions were asked about the ethanol discharge earlier in the week, Amy Patel was particularly aggressive, wanting to know exactly how much alcohol was involved in the leak. Unfortunately, our environmental engineer, Bob Kowalsky, did not show up at the dinner, claiming a family emergency about 6 PM. I think I shall visit another kind of emergency upon him early this morning. Kowalsky had the numbers in his laptop, and he had his laptop locked in the trunk of his car while his son was getting stitches and a cast, none of which helped me while Patel kept asking tough questions.
Fortunately, most everything this facility uses is relatively benign—the mutants aren’t, but the materials involved are, but try explaining this to a suspicious community group. Dr Steyn gave it a noble try, but everybody’s eyes began to glaze over when she started talking about LD50s. I don’t think we even got any points for not doing animal testing (Never mind that Breedlove and Adam used to do HUMAN testing, illegally and unethically).
Amy Patel DEMANDED to be shown the spill area, so we all went outside and tramped through the mud, weeds, gnats, snakes (little ones) and other nastinesses of nature, and showed everyone that there was no vast kill-off of fish or anything else. I might die from exposure to all those gnats.
I did enjoy watching Thomasina struggle through the muck and mire.
Dr Steyn went LEAPING from shore to stone to stone, gazelle-like, --in 2” heels, what pluck that woman has—and stood out in mid-stream, pointing out to Amy Patel (wretched troublemaker) that the streambed was unharmed and there was nothing to agonize over.
Then we returned to the awful dinner, reportedly some kind of ichthyofauna, but I’d have to take that on faith. It could have been ANYTHING, maybe even textured vegetable protein. I need to have words with marmalade Thomasina about this food. I heard a lot of muttering from the “community” about what we were feeding them last night.
Dr Steyn came up to me after she’d been to the buffet table, showed me her plate, and whispered, “YOU should have to eat this, too.” I thought she might throw it at me, but I’ve decided since she didn’t toss that or yesterday’s vol flasks she’s not inclined towards violence. She does have lovely eyes.
Well, off to toss a few shark-eye glares at Kowalsky.
09:01am 27 March 2007
Inevitable Bunnies
Mood: Grumpy
I couldn’t get Kowalsky to make eye contact yesterday when I went to glare at him for missing the Lie to the Community dinner. He assured me no trace of the ethanol remains in the stream, but Dr Steyn already emailed tabulated results showing that. I told him we have to understand why the spill happened so it won’t happen again. He mumbled something. Bad attitude.
I told the marmalade cat woman Thomasina that I had received so many whiney complaints about the food that if I am forced to do this dinner again, I will send her out for hot dogs, buns, and ketchup, and she can do the grilling, unless she can assure me next month’s food will be both recognizable AND edible.
She is immune to my glares. All she did was bubble on about the child beauty pageant she wants to do at the employee picnic.
Easter décor is making its appearance. Terminally cute chicks, ducks, and the inevitable BUNNIES everywhere, pastel colors (ugh) splashed all through accounting. Jelly beans in jars…and these people communally FEED out of the SAME jars…
09:44am 28 March 2007
Portentous Bunny
Mood: Loved
Last night was yet another bad night for sleeping, so I wandered around the facilities with the oldest set of blueprints I’ve been able to find and tried to figure out the construction history of Sublevel D, beneath the microbiology group. This is one of the older sections, that is, one of the first excavated during the early days of Breedlove. If you dig long enough and hard enough, more and more sealed labs have been revealed. Breedlove didn’t want anyone to see some of his more unholy failures, but he didn’t count on anyone taking the trouble to go looking for them, either. I think I found concrete that was placed over a steel fire door circa 1966. I’ll have to contract for a crew to come in and do some digging.
Breedlove was quite the secretive researcher, and Adam no less so.
On the way back to finally get some sleep, I checked my mailbox, which usually contains exciting things like invoices for Dr Harrison’s Live Flies, but instead it contained…a chocolate bunny…with my name on it, so there was no mistake. Someone left a chocolate bunny for me.
04:15pm 30 March 2007
Bunny Enigma
Mood: Confused
I've thought about the chocolate bunny very carefully and cannot think who would have left it.
11:43 am 31 March 2007
Bunny Bedevilment
Mood: Contemplative
I wandered around last night, through offices and labs, and tried to put personalities with bunny deposits.
Perhaps someone did this to annoy me?
If so, they've succeeded.
11:19am 1 April 2007
Varady Denies Everything
Mood: Uncomfortable
I cornered Dr Varady first thing this morning and asked her if she was the Bunny-Bringer and she denied all knowledge of the deed!
THEN she began cooing about the bunny, saying how sweet it was that someone in Genomex was thinking of me! And she wouldn't drop the subject! "That rabbit could be fraught with meaning, Mason. Since there was no name, this is not one of your GSA weasels trying to fawn over you."
How well I know. I cannot deal with this fraught with meaning, portentous, significant bunny.
[P.S.: The GSA does seem to screen for Weaselhood, don't they? What an unlikable bunch...]
09:33am 8 April 2007
Mood: Anxious
Dr Harrison's been walking around with an unwholesome looking smirk on his face and I have NO idea what that's about. Probably the marmalade cat woman knows, but she's not telling. When Harrison's happy, it cannot be good.
I think I nearly have his wretched division sold at a price that won't make the shareholders scream. Out he goes with his smirk, his unwholesome 'pets', and his failures.
How does Adam convince a bunch of 30somethings to dress like 14-y-o's? It's so hard to take his 'kids' seriously
11:55am 10 April 2007
Small Humans Running Wild Underfoot!
Mood: Aggravated
Thomasina the marmalade cat woman was in here this morning insisting I had given my blessing to an Easter egg hunt on the grounds of Genomex!
What is she thinking?
The little kiddies running wild around the nitrogen tanks, running loose down by the lake (If one of them drowns, is Genomex liable?), peering in through the windows.
Unfortunately, she’s already announced the event to the public, and I think I’m stuck.
The enigmatic choco-bunny continues to puzzle.
01:01pm 11 April 2007
Sulfurous Rotten Eggs
Mood: Indescribable
Last night while chipping away at some suspicious looking mortar down in Level Seven, I realized that if the little kiddies ate imperfectly cooked eggs and became ill, Genomex would be buying their progenitors new houses and paying the kiddies ways through college, so this morning I sent the marmalade cat woman a memo about how she is to place only candy-filled (preferably wrapped) plastic eggs on the grounds.
This also avoids the belated fragrance of rotten eggs the kiddies don't find.
09:36am 14 April 2007
Work Ethic Corruption
Mood: Enraged
Imagine my shock this morning to find nearly the entire work force in the cafeteria stuffing thousands and THOUSANDS of plastic eggs with candy!
Thomasina, in all her marmalade cat woman arrogance, invited them all to spend the morning stuffing eggs for the kiddies.
I ask her if she had any idea what this was costing Genomex in terms of lost productivity, and she said she didn't. I believe it.
Absolutely everyone was there except Dr Steyn and Dr Teuong.
Still perplexed by the chocolate rabbit. Still bedeviled.
10:06pm 16 April 2007
Bunny Ears
Mood: Infuriated
I checked my mailbox after nearly everyone had gone home and I found a set of clip-on bunny ears waiting for me that Thomasina the Marmalade Cat woman thinks I'm going to wear Sunday for the Easter Egg hunt just because she left me a giddy, frothy note insisting that I do so.
I left her an email insisting upon a meeting first thing in the morning to straighten out a few things.
11:21am 17 April 2007
Bunny Ear Battle
Mood: Drained
Thomasina does not take 'no' for an answer very well.
She prattled on and on and ON about how disappointed all the neighborhood kinder would be if all of the Genomex people were not wearing bunny ears (she has some of them talked into wearing bunny suits, too...including Dr Harrison...it will be worth showing up just to see this) but I told her, NO, bunny ears would negate any measure of dignity and authority I possessed, and NO, I would not wear them.
I suggested she ask Rebecca Steyn if SHE would like to wear them.
06:59am 18 April 2007
Fun With Intercepted Email
Mood: Giddy
What most employees here don't realize is that I can intercept and read anybody's email, even Dr Harrison's (although his is so strange it makes me queasy--his carnivorous plant pets are just the beginning) and I specifically screen for emails mentioning me!
SUBJECT: Annoyances
TO: Dr Samihah Shah
FROM: Dr Rebecca Steyn
Thomasina just dropped in here asking me if I would come and help with Sunday's Easter Egg hunt AND wear these absurd clip-on bunny ears! I asked her where she ever got the idea I would descend to such tomfoolery, and she told me it was Eckhart's suggestion! Where the Hell did that notion come from?
SUBJECT: Re: Annoyances
TO: Dr Rebecca Steyn
FROM: Dr Samihah Shah
Did you wrap the bunny ears around her throat? Someone should do us all a great favor and choke the life out of that woman. Regarding Eckhart--I've already shared my suspicions regarding him regarding you, and you've chosen to dismiss them. This is just another data point.
SUBJECT: Re: Re: Annoyances
TO: Dr Samihah Shah
FROM: Dr Rebecca Steyn
>>Regarding Eckhart--I've already shared my suspicions regarding him regarding you, and you've chosen to dismiss them. This is just another data point.<<
Perhaps the bunny ears should be secured about his throat, do you think?
SUBJECT: Re: Re: Re: Annoyances
TO: Dr Rebecca Steyn
FROM: Dr Samihah Shah
>>Perhaps the bunny ears should be secured about his throat, do you think?
But you don't really want to do that. Not really. And not just because you like your paycheck.
03:58pm 20 April 2007
Egg Hunt Rampage
Mood: Drained
It was horrible.
Originally, a steady, heavy rain was predicted for today but unfortunately that never materialized. That would have kept the crowds away. There were hundreds of people on the Genomex grounds with hundreds and hundreds of small humans running underfoot everywhere.
I could only stomach the beginning of the festive, frantic, scouring of the grounds for plastic eggs filled with cheap candy. Within 20 minutes the pristine property was strewn with empty wrappers and plastic egg shells (I told Thomasina she and her committee were charged with cleaning up that.).
Dr Samihah Shah was there with her four boys, and after she had unleashed them when the search began, she turned to me and asked, “Are you looking for Rebecca?”
What did Dr Shah mean by that?
I didn’t answer her, but I retreated inside and watched the rest from my office.
The sight of Dr Harrison in a pale blue bunny suit with pink ears picking up plastic egg shells and wrappers may have been worth all the rest of it. I must have watched for half an hour.
07:42am 21 April 2007
Unsolved
Mood: Indescribable
I woke up about 3.45 AM and realized that Easter had come and gone I STILL did not know who gave me the Mystery Bunny.
I went and stared at it for a good forty minutes, but it remained mute throughout and did not reveal its origin. Not that I thought that it would.
At first light, I'm going to inspect the grounds and see how good of a job Thomasina and her Pale Blue Bunny Buddy did cleaning up yesterday. I will not have plastic eggshells trashing the place.
03:18pm 22 April 2007
Basking in the Warm Glow
Mood: Accomplished
I'm still basking in the warm glow of yesterday's fond memories of standing outside, pointing out to Thomasina and Dr Harrison all the unrecovered wrappers and egg shells, so THEY could pick them up and make the grounds look presentable again
The clean up took hours, and I relished every moment. I think I overheard some bad language from Dr Harrison. Be good, Ken: I know some of your secrets.
Afterwards, I came back indoors and pondered the Mystery Choco-Bunny for another two hours. Perhaps I should simply eat the bunny and stop thinking about it.
09:54am 23 April 2007
Preparing for the Prevaricating Party Under the Stars been in here getting
Mood: Stressed
Thomasina, the Marmalade Cat Woman herself, has already been in here getting multiple signatures from me for next Tuesday’s monthly Lie to the Community Dinner. She reminded me of my complaints following last month’s Mystery Protein meal, and my suggestion that she grill hot dogs. Well, that’s what she plans to do, and to do that she wants 1) a tent 2) grills 2) tons of ground beef and hot dogs 3) potato chips 4) potato salad 5) macaroni salad 6) paper plates and plastic cutlery (hah hah, more things to supervise during a day-after pickup) 7) ice 8) soft drinks 8) rental tables and chairs.
After all of that, I said, well, “Where are the party lights and tiki torches?”
“Oh, I forgot those. Thanks for reminding me.”
Groan.
Maybe the Mystery Protein Meal wasn’t so bad after all, when I compare costs.
She also wanted me to draft a crew of cooks. Several names came to mind immediately: Harrison, Mayakovsky, Kowalsky, the usual victims. I have to think of a justification for roping Rebecca Steyn into this outdoor delight as well. Rebecca by moonlight. Hmm.
I’m not telling Harrison, but I have a solid offer for his wretched botanical group. I’m planning on signing papers in about 6 weeks, and give Harrison about an hour to clear out of my sight forever.
I need to talk to someone in Biopolymers and find out whether mosquitoes can poke a hole through my ‘skin’ and take a sip of blood. That would be nice to know.
11:34am 24 April 2007
Rabbit Revelations
Mood: Confused
For someone who takes great pride in taking in all the details, and missing NOTHING, I’ve really fallen short with the Mystery Choco-Bunny. I hang my odd-looking white head in shame and embarrassment.
During a session with Dr Varady, she asked whether anyone had admitted to leaving the rabbit. She was surprised when I said they had not, and at that point produced the very bunny, and put it on her desk.
“You haven’t eaten it!”
She seemed surprised by that.
“I thought about it, but the mystery is making me crazy.”
Dr Varady picked it up and inspected it closely. “You should have brought this to me before. This is a Special Rabbit.”
“How can you tell?”
“Mason, did you LOOK at it?”
“Of course.”
“You missed a lot. This rabbit did not stroll out of Wal-Mart or Walgreens. No.”
“No?”
“This is an Elite Choco-Bunny, Mason. The sticker on the bottom indicates that it was hand-molded by Lenzotti Chocolatiers. That family business has made the most exquisite chocolate in town for generations. They ship world-wide. How did you miss that?”
“I don’t know.”
“And the bunny it self: Lenzotti’s specializes in all sorts of molds. This is no mere bunny, but a bunny wearing a business suit and glasses! Mason, it’s YOU as a bunny!”
I was stunned. She was right.
“You look stricken! This is a GOOD bunny, Mason! Someone went to some trouble and thought to acquire just this rabbit for you! There is nothing negative about this bunny! You should feel all warm and fuzzy inside because of this bunny. Please try to feel warm and fuzzy inside, if just for a moment. You don’t even have to tell me if you do. I just wish you would for your own sake.”
“Very well.”
Moments passed.
“Thank you for your insights.”
“Anytime. Try to feel good about this.”
“I’ll try.”
I went back to my quarters and thought about it all very hard. I may cancel the afternoon’s appointments.
08:46am 25 April 2007
Interminable Meetings
Mood: Mischievous
Hibbing has me taking some new meds which are not agreeing wih me.
Nearly the entire day is set to be plagued by Interminable Meetings, one after the other, endless Droning...I will have to glare a good deal to keep the pace from sliding into glacial mode.
I think I am going to take Dr Shah aside after the wretched Projects meeting and request she keep Mayakovsky's notes so I can growl at him and make him behave like a good molecular biologist. At least ADAM isn't at these anymore...gawd, Adam could slay a morning with his Latest Pushing Back of the Frontiers of Science, stuff I'd seen discussed on Nova a season or so before...probably no one in Sanctuary ever has to resort to sleep meds...they just go ask Adam to talk about himself for a few minutes and go nodding off...Zzzzz...
The only redeeming aspect of the day is the attendance of Dr Steyn at the Projects meeting. Reading HER notes upside down is always entertaining. I wonder if she knows I do that (I read upside down almost as readily as right side up...practice, practice, practice)?
01:55pm 28 April 2007
Odd
Mood: Devious
Odd reaction to a medication change last Friday.
Note to self => Investigate possible attempt at poisoning me.
06:16pm 29 April 2007
Too Bad
Mood: Optimistic
Rain was predicted, lots of it,thunder, lightning, hailstones, funnel clouds, the end of the world, but none of that happened or shows promise of happening for the balance of the evening, so Thomasina's annoying little cook-out will happen. Too bad.
The tent is set up, the drafted cooks are staying late and making everyone else miserable, except me, I just glare at them and they go to bother someone else.
The balance of the evening promises to be pleasant well after sunset, and the mosquitoes have not hatched yet.
I wonder how Dr Harrison looks in an apron?
I'd prefer to see how he looks in a 55 gallon drum, unmoving, with those damn creepy plants tucked into the open spaces...
At least I did not have to coerce, threaten, coax, armtwist, glare or otherwise misbehave to guarantee Rebecca's appearance tonight.
07:12am 30 April 2007
“Genomex Makes a Good Burger”
Mood: Indescribable
The promise of the evening did not last.
Once all the freeloading community leaders had filled their plates with burgers and potato salad, and settled into feeding, the distinct aroma of smoke –and not from the grills—began to fill the air. Shortly after facility alarms went off. Shortly after that 5 engine companies showed up.
Perfect. The neighborhood gawking at close range, and solvent recovery has a fire which then spreads. Fortunately, nothing valuable, irreplaceable, or terribly useful was destroyed, but the drama made the neighborhood people excited, and Thomasina didn’t help by clinging to Dr Harrison and screaming.
Dr Harrison set the tone for the evening by bringing out six of his favorite carnivores on a rolling cart, so he could share Etienne, Gagarin, Matilda, Ysabeau, Clovis, and Glenn with everyone, thus circumventing my instructions that his Hell-Garden was off-limits in a security area. There will be Hell to Pay for the Rolling Hell-Garden. Harrison was very amused with his ‘cleverness’. I should introduce him to Adam. Thomasina, too. Maybe Adam would appreciate them.
While the smoke billowed, the community leaders fed voraciously and eyed the carnivores with cautious reserve.
Well, once the fire had been put out, and the sun was setting in the west, imagine the questions from the community leaders! They of course imagined the smoke was toxic (it wasn’t) and imagined neglect as the cause (some truth in that—someone is supposed to be in the unit at all times). Thomasina’s near-hysteria did not help. Rebecca gave her stern, woman to woman glares encouraging her to return to earth, but the marmalade cat woman was having too much fun chasing her tail and being the center of attention, especially of that snake of a botanist.
The fire marshal said Genomex makes a good burger. I wouldn’t know. I stuck with my pink chalky looking slurry. Rebecca said the food tasted what it looked like this month.
03:20pm 06 May 2007
Ribbons & Trophies how tacky
Mood: Aggravated
I was hoping the Marmalade Cat Woman would forget but Thomasina forgets NOTHING. She was in here earlier today wheedling signatures out of me for the trashy beauty contest for little girls at the (fly-friendly) Genomex employee picnic, that doom due later this month.
Thomasina wants TROPHIES and RIBBONS how tacky.
08:50am 12 May 2007
too much madness on every side
Mood: Amused
The trophies and ribbons for the disgusting beauty pageant for little girls (overly made up women are bad enough, but little girls made up like streetwalkers make me ill) are here. The Grand Prize of Pulchritude trophy is 2/3’s as tall as I am and requires two adults to move it. Who would want such tackiness in their home?
Who would do this to their daughter?
Thomasina wanted to leave the damn trophy in here. I refused, and had it dumped off next to her desk.
When May 1 came and went it occurred to me that it was odd that Paul Breedlove did not establish some weird Genomex maypole tradition, analogous to the odd Groundhog day breakfast. I wonder how he missed that one?
Fortunately, he’s not here for me to ask.
I overheard a conversation while strolling through Podding Operations about how surprised they were that Shalimar wore fur, and how it made good sense that she would be anti-fur. They just don’t understand ferals. I do. All the fur we see Shalimar wear is probably from prey she has run down, broken their spinal chords with her sharp little teeth, and had worked into clothing so she can continue to relive her proudest moments. Miao.
I’ve got a new summary of Mulwray’s unprosecuted crimes. A lot if them are grand theft items, but a surprising number involve shoplifting snack foods from convenience stores. Mulwray is incredibly stupid. And he expected me to shake his hand?
This is all material to go into Adam’s file as well, since Adam, criminal that his is, is adding to his crimes by giving refuge to a wretched felon.
Dr Harrison is insisting on setting up a display of his miserable carnivorous plants at the company picnic. He is justifying this as a means of reducing insect pests at the feed and give his hungry lovelies a chance to feed “in the wild”. I think Harrison needs some good medication.
Rebecca (only half-joking) said Genomex needs to develop a program making carnivorous plants capable of swallowing (whole) troublesome people like Harrison, and digesting them down to nothing. I love original thinking like this.
02:41pm 13 May 2007
Thomasina, Bearer of Good Tidings
Mood: Infuriated
Thomasina rambled in here a few minutes ago, positively beaming with human joy and delight (I would have enjoyed putting a bag over that phony woman’s head—the message was bad enough), telling me she had WONDERFUL and EXCITING news just for me!
That’s how I knew it had to be some gut-wrenching horror.
Sure enough, it was.
She bubbled forth with the news that Dr Sherman had suffered a stroke last night.
“That isn’t my idea of good news, Ms Hobson.”
She did not break stride. She skimmed right over the minor detail of an excellent biomechanical specialist losing the ability to speak (and Sherman actually showed up on time and did a fair amount of useful work, too) and went on to the happy, chirpy part. (Did Dr Breedlove perhaps make a female android as well, in addition to the pathologically lying Adam? Is Thomasina one of those unfortunates, programmed to smile, smile, SMILE, no matter what?)
“Well, Mr Eckhart! Now that Dr Sherman won’t be back with us for a while, a wonderful OPPORTUNITY has opened up for YOU!”
I should have turned, leapt out of my chair, plunged through the glass, and jumped down to Podding Operations below, hit the floor running and not stopped.
But Thomasina might have followed me…she is, after all, named for a marmalade cat.
She kept right on chirping and cooing despite the fine shark-eye glare I fixed upon her.
“YOU are now part of the Pulchritude Pageant Judging Team!”
O Dear God.
09:45am 14 May 2007
Slimy Ken
Mood: Contemplative
I haven’t told Dr Harrison (AKA “Slimy Ken”) that his division has been sold and he will be leaving my sight sooner than he knows.
He was in here yesterday afternoon, presenting plans for a huge bog-greenhouse to allow him to grow his carnivorous lovelies in great numbers. Since he’s leaving shortly, I opted to have plenty of good wicked fun making him squirm.
“Dr Harrison, pray tell how growing these sundews and their friends has anything at all to do with the business of Genomex?”
I knew this was all about His Sliminess wanting a bog-garden and nothing to do with profits or research. He tried to confuse me with some confabulation about mutagenic plant extracts, but I was not fooled. It’s all about making a grand home for Etienne, Gagarin, and all the others. I let him prattle on at length.
“Dr Harrison, did you know that your group, per person, is the greatest absorber of research funds, and so far, since you’ve been part of Genomex, not a single project has delivered anything of practical value?”
Well, of course he knew that, but I had a good time watching him try to talk his way around reality. He’s like Adam that way, just less manic and more inclined towards nervousness and verbal fumbling.
Curiously, although he squirmed a great deal, he seemed less worried than I would have thought. As he left, he congratulated me on becoming part of the Pulchritude Pageant Judging Team. How disturbing that he is a judge as well.
Maybe I will offer the wretched smiling Thomasina Hobson a transfer package, just to remove her from my sight as well, and cancel those interminable dinners.
Dr Shah seems terribly amused about something.
I went to Dr Varady and discussed the dreadful Pulchritude Pageant. She wasn’t aware of it, and was appalled, but she was not surprised at the source of the idea. She told me to be brave. I’m always brave.
02:49pm 15 May 2007
Think I’m Gonna Eat worms
Mood: Gloomy
Sometimes, you have to wonder if it’s all worth it.
Consider what I do for all these people at Genomex. They are all grossly overpaid. If they weren’t, they’d be whining and complaining and all too inclined to talk about Our Very Special Business here. This way, they talk about their new cars and their new houses. They’re fat and happy, so to speak…and they tend not to leave, once they find out they cannot duplicate the pay elsewhere.
Who do they think makes this all happen? Paul Breedlove was just plain stingy.
I buy them lots of nice equipment, too.
I only glare at the slackers and the troublemakers, like Slimy Ken. I would never glare at Dr Varady.
Joe Mayakovsky is still telling that lame joke about how I probably wear black pinstripe jammies. Well, I do, but it still wasn’t kind of him to even think about it…although he gave me the idea. The joke’s on you, now, Mayakovsky.
And the names they give me! Mr Creepy! Hell-moth!
They’ve already forgotten the nice turkeys I got them last November. And the Ground Hog Day breakfast, whatever that’s about.
22 May 2007
Fly Fest Forebodings
Mood: Irritated
The dreaded Genomex picnic isn't until Saturday but the bills are already showing up. Thomasina went wild this year. I don't recall aproving half of these things. A tent city will begin to rise this afternoon, just in case of rain.
I hope it DOES rain.
However, that appears unlikely. Saturday is supposed to be miserably sunny and wretchedly warm, so the flies will be comfortable and present in vast numbers.
That damn Adam and his favored felon broke in here a few days back. One of my people had to go to an emergency room, after Adam's criminal chum hurled her into a wall. And Adam cons people into believing he's one of the good guys, breaking in here to swipe only God knows what and injuring unarmed technical staff? Why do people believe him?
26 May 2007
Picnic from Hell
Mood: Exhausted
All day Sunday it rained. The heavens opened, water poured down; it was cold, dark, and miserable—my idea of good Genomex picnic weather, weather that keeps people home so I don’t have to look at them.
If only Saturday could have been so perfect. But it was not to be.
Saturday, in contrast to Sunday’s perfection, was dazzlingly sunny (good thing my lenses are tinted), warm (no, HOT) and exhausting in its relentless cheerfulness, blue skies and fluffy pretty clouds.
Everyone with any excuse or the most tenuous tie to Genomex was there, retirees, current employees, even Dr Teuong. People came for lunch and stayed for dinner.
I kept expecting to see Adam and his super-powered overaged kids at any moment.
Joe Mayakovsky was there. With a girlfriend.
Thomasina had proclaimed the rise of a mighty tent city, and so it was.
There were games, games, games and more games. Endless games of softball, volleyball, horseshoes, croquet and more. A long-running bingo session dominated the afternoon with some astonishingly nice prizes.
I inspected the Genomex Garage Sale. The object of this is to unload unneeded furniture and equipment. The old office equipment seemed appropriate, but why would anyone want an ancient Waters LC pump, even for $3? Or a refractive index detector for $3? People were snapping up the early stasis pod prototypes stripped of electronics at $5 apiece, mostly with the intent of using them as toy chests.
Thomasina even set up an information booth, passing out glossy brochures about the supposed purpose of Genomex and the old Breedlove Foundation, chiefly lies, of course. When she wasn’t spreading falsehoods, the Marmalade Cat Woman was assisting Dr Harrison (who, thank God, will be only a bad memory in another week, even though he doesn’t know it yet!) in the capture of flies. Yes, fly capture.
I asked Harrison what he and Ms Hobson were doing, to which Harrison responded, “Harvesting sweet, fresh, free-range juicy treats for my lovelies.”
Dr Shah and Rebecca heard this. Dr Shah turned to Rebecca and said, “That man is very peculiar, Rebecca.” I must admit Dr Shah’s dry wit grows on one.
There were so many flies, flies on people, flies in food, huge horse flies (the insect analogue of Genomex mutant freaks) bedeviling the ponies, flies doing the Fly Grand Gavotte atop the potato salad, horseflies biting through light clothing, clouds of flies everywhere.
Dr Harrison set up a demonstration of his disgusting carnivorous plants. Most of the kids loved this, and a lot of them were thrilled with the feeding demonstration. Harrison allowed some of them to do some of the feeding. Little monsters. Future serial killers. Most of the mothers were appalled. Some looked ill. Some of the fathers looked queasy, too.
Through it all, Harrison remained chirpy (he looks absurd in sandals with white socks) and Thomasina smiled, smiled, smiled. What a lovely pair they are.
Soda pop and beer were flowing like soda pop and beer.
The kids rides, the merry-go-round (where did Thomasina find one with CATS holding fish in their mouths?), the flying swings, the ferris wheel, and of course, the fly-cursed ponies, were all very popular.
Have I mentioned that it was HOT? Encased in plastic, wearing only black, it was hot, hot, hot. I sweated off 6 pounds.
Rebecca had no sympathy. “You were watching the weather more closely than anyone. You knew what it was going to be like. We could have gone to Wal-Mart Friday night and you could have purchased black shorts, black t-shirt, and black sandals, but NO, all you could talk about was dignity, dignity, dignity…”
I tried to tell her I would look more than silly with the baggy, ill-fitting portions of the biopolymer exposed to view. Looking silly might have been better than the misery I endured. Rebecca was right.
Dr Varady was there with all of her adult children and all of their progeny. The woman is a clan matriarch. She whispered something to Rebecca that she found highly amusing but wouldn’t repeat to me!
The little girl beauty pageant, at the very least, promised to be an exercise in cultural decadence and tackiness, but delivered so much more.
“In the old country, parents would be stoned to death for doing this to their little girls.” Not a bad idea, Dr Shah.
The judges were Dr Harrison, the Marmalade Cat Woman, a woman from accounting I’d never glared at before, and unhappy me. We had to sit in the blazing sun during the hottest part of the day, while little girls were put through their paces in pursuit of the Pulchritude Pageant grand prize, a gaudy trophy two grown men had difficulty lifting.
Why would anyone even allow their little girl to dress like Adam’s female followers (who often appear to be dressed for another profession altogether) ? Or wear more makeup than is appropriate for the stage?
I could hear comments from the crowd.
“Isn’t that the sicko who was feeding lives flies to plants?” (Yes, good woman, it was.)
“And who’s the other bizarro with the white hair?” (Not nice.)
Some close by me said, “I think the whole thing is sick” I looked down from the stand and said, “You have no idea how strongly I agree with you.”
The ‘talent show’ was a pitiful spectacle. Why the focus upon country and western? (C&W holds bad memories for me.) I had not seen so many pearl buttons and cowboy boots since…since…1991.
Finally, the torment was ended. We added up the scorecards and crowned the Princess of Pulchritude. I thought I was free.
One mother disputed the scoring, insisting that her darling had actually won. She looked like one of the old Eastern bloc ‘female’ shot put throwers who tended to fail their chromosome tests for femaleness. First she just quibbled about the numbers. Then she got loud. Then she verbally came after me! She didn’t know who I was and she didn’t care, but I must have looked like I had some kind of authority. Ah, the value of dignity.
She wouldn’t shut up and she wouldn’t go away, and then, she took at swing at me! Fortunately, I’ve learned to duck. Rebecca grabbed her arm, and yelled, “Don’t do that!” Then my attacker turned on Rebecca, which was a mistake. Rebecca smashed this harridan to the ground, and without pause, removed her cell phone, and called the cops!
About this time my miserably inept GSA security detail trotted up, ever prepared to protect me from harm and doom, Italian sausage sandwiches in one hand. They pinned the harridan to the dust.
Rebecca calmed down remarkably quickly. She turned to me, smirked, and said, “I haven’t hit anyone since third grade. Too bad that couldn’t have been Adam!”
Dr Shah spit up part of her orange drink, and with a perfectly deadpan delivery, said to me, “Are you being a bad influence on my friend Rebecca, Mr Eckhart?”
The cops were amused. Usually they have to break up ethanol-inspired fights between guys, but a violent woman is unusual. Four men were required to wrestle her into the back seat of a patrol car. Rebecca and I are pressing charges. I offered the officers burgers and hot dogs.
“Genomex makes a good burger, we’ve heard.”
The sun went down but the festive lights and tiki torches blazed, and the madness continued, right up until full darkness when the fireworks display began.
There was a stationary display of a double helix motif, complete with the detail of showing base pairs. Unfortunately, it has not rained since the Easter egg hunt, and when one of the rockets went astray, a huge brush fire was started, with the wind pushing it towards the houses just over the chain link and razor wire fence.
“O Dear God.”
Rebecca pulled out her cell phone again and summoned the fire department. There was some panic and stampeding, mostly by frightened ponies running loose in the dark.
The fire department put out the fire, oh, at least twenty yards from the nearest dwelling. I offered the fire crews food.
“We remember the Genomex burgers. Thanks.”
Fortunately, the tv news crews showed up after the fire was put out and the smoke dissipated. The charred grass close to the houses wasn’t visible by the light of the merry-go-round, so they left quietly, but not before Thomasina offered them burgers, too, smiling, smiling, smiling.
People started drifting home, slowly driving out of the parking lot because of the still free-running ponies who weren’t scared anymore but were happy about being loose.
Dr Shah rounded up her boys, came by, and said, “Good evening, Mr Eckhart! Good evening, Rebecca! Who would imagine a company picnic could be so exciting!”
27 May 2007
Picnic Hell Postscript
Mood: Mellow
Late Saturday night, with ponies still roaming free about the grounds, Rebecca got worried about them (never mind that ponies have survived generations in places where people have abandoned them) and insisted that we go and feed the smelly little darlings.
MY keycard opens anything, including the kitchens. At any hour.
So, we broke into the kitchens, found the uncooked breakfast oatmeal, found a pair of pails, and wandered off into pitch black fields rattling oaks in plastic pails. Rebecca assured me no equine could resist an appeal to the stomach.
In short order, hoofbeats resounded across the dry Genomex turf. Lots of hoofbeats, moving fast.
“Are we going to be trampled by these beasts in return for soft-heartedness?”
“Not a chance. They can see better than we do.”
She was right. Each of them stopped a few yards away, sniffing noisily as they approached.
“They are aromatic.”
“Hogs and chickens are worse. ‘Horse’ you can get used to smelling.”
I’ll have to take that on faith.
They came and buried their little noses in the pails. Greedy feeders.
“You know that Temujin’s warriors conquered most of the world from the backs of mounts only slightly bigger than these, don’t you?” she asked.
“Really?”
“Incredible, isn’t it? They could cover 50 miles in a day. Tough guys. Tough ponies. They signaled with arrows producing distinctive whistles.”
Rebecca continues to amaze with obscure details.
The pails were cleaned out in no time, and we were followed all the way back to the building by a crowd of new friends. By the exterior lights, Rebecca assured herself none of them were injured, then told them to go back and have a nice time running loose (they had been unsaddled and unbridled before the fireworks), that they had a whole lake to drink from, and furthermore, there was some fine mud for rolling near the stream. She talked to them like they were human.
30 May 2007
Annoyances
Mood: Anxious
Gabriel Ashlocke’s release by some of my own people has distracted me from writing about last Tuesday’s Lie-to-the-Community dinner. No one seems to be taking Ashlocke's freedom seriously.
Tuesday's food was predictably dreadful yet again. Rebecca had enough sense to pack a granola bar rather than endure mystery sustenance. She looked at it, but could not be certain what anything had once been save for the green beans.
The oddest thing about this session was the way Dr Harrison took it over and did most of the speaking. Thomasina and Harrison must have worked that out ahead of time but it was peculiar. This afternoon I have the pleasure of telling Slimy Ken to clean out his desk and hit the road, along with the rest of his division, Rafflesias, carnivores, and all. I’m going to offer Thomasina a transfer package as well so I don’t have to look at her smiling, smiling, smiling, or put up with any more of these absurd dinners.
I’ll still have the hazardous waste drum, labeled and ready to use, and a phone number from Nicole Carter for Very Special Waste Removal. She showed some interest in the job offer, even at the peasant pay I was offering. Perhaps someday Adam…you never know. I can dream.
***************************
The journal stops here. The file was automatically forwarded to my system, and I sent it to several remote locations for safekeeping, should Mason have need of it again. Poor Mason…I wish I could help.
I have not read any of this.
Laura Varady, PhD., 30 May 2007
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