THE ENGINEER
by K. Jeffery Petersen

"What the? Ah, shit!" He lifted his foot with a 
sucking sound, something gooey had stuck to the bottom of 
it. "Stupid fuck! Why don’t you clean up after yourself?" 
His call echoed in the spacious warehouse, but no reply came 
back.

"Frank! Where are you?" Scraping one foot on the 
ground, he side-stepped around overturned and half-empty 
boxes, half removed packing material crackling under his 
feet. Layers of dust covered many of the partially opened 
items. He reached down and picked up one of the various 
chipboard and brushed it off. "This thing’s two years old, 
Frank! What’re you doing letting it lie here? Government 
money doesn’t grow on trees!" With a disgusted grunt, he 
dropped the board into a box and continued on through the 
warehouse.

A slight tinge of smoke permeated the air around the 
small kitchenette. "What the hell have you been doing?" He 
unplugged the rice cooker giving off the scent and opened 
it. Inside, the rice was dry and hard.

A trail of empty beer cans and bottles and half-burned 
cigarettes led away from the kitchenette through a sheet 
partition and into a small work area. A trio of computers 
sat on a desk, all humming with power. One of them had a 
cracked monitor. On the floor lay another monitor on its 
side, also cracked.

A pile of dirty laundry sat in the middle of the area, 
one side splashed with vomit that was pooled on the floor. A 
few flies buzzed around above the puddle.

He held his nose and stepped around the laundry on the 
other side, intent on the computers. He upturned a chair on 
its side and sat down. Something cold and sticky touched his 
underside. He shut his eyes, gritted his teeth and sighed, 
then focused on the screens before him.

One showed the beginning of some notes: "tThiss is 
thhe bbbest enw syet. i thinkk it wil b hte hting were 
loking fr..." He frowned and stopped attempting to read soon 
afterwards.

The other screen had a slowly rotating schematic 
diagram of a roughly ovoid shape. He pulled a keyboard out 
and started typing to find out more.

"Not a chance, Frank... We can’t afford to build this. 
What the hell were you thinking?" He glanced down. On the 
edge of the desk was a small pile of white powder and a 
razor.

He leaned back the chair creaking and sighed.