Rawpocalypse

7 - Blame

Yoshi Ko glared over his large mahogany desk to a nerdy technician in thick glasses. A packaged steak sat between them, swollen to a rounded mass the size of an armadillo.

The electrical engineer nervously pushed his glasses up his nose. "Well sir, it seems someone failed to connect the negative anode to the condenser relay. The coil fired successfully, but without the proper impedance—"

Yoshi lifted a silencing hand and swiveled his chair toward his wife. "Kimi, how did this happen?"

"In simple terms," she said, "pressing the red button didn't fully engage the curing process as it did with the green. I'm afraid the issue didn't surface during the testing process because we were testing with fully cured meat."

He gazed at the obscenity on his desk. "How does that explain this?"

"You see, the curing process halts the cell regeneration, stopping the growth. Without being cured, the cells continue to replicate."

"Yes, yes. I understand that. What I want to know is why some idiot breached protocol to push the infernal red button 286 times."

Kimi took on a conciliatory tone. "You mustn't blame Mika's husband. I take full responsibility for the oversight."

Yoshi would hear no more of that, looking to the technician. "Has the problem been rectified?"

"Yes, sir. The issue was corrected the moment it was discovered."

Yoshi waved a dismissive hand. "Take that thing from my sight. And call for Mr. Gordon to see me at once."

"Yes, sir," the man said, wrestling the heavy hunk of meat from the desk surface. "Right away, sir."

"Yoshi!" said his wife. "You cannot make a fuss over this."

"I can, and I will. The boy's inadequacy has damaged our company name. I shudder to think what would have happened had we discovered the problem too late. He must be reprimanded."

"You only want to humiliate him. But face it, Yoshi, he's in our family to stay."

"Then he'll appreciate the importance of his actions. He must be punished."

She rose and circled behind his desk. "Go easy on him. Please. You don't want Mika to raise our grandchild in a trailer park with Sam's redneck family."

Yoshi defiantly avoided looking up to her seductive gaze.

She eased onto his lap. "It's my fault, you know. I've been a bad girl."

* * *

James Snyder leaned back at his workstation with feet crossed on the control panel table. With the tip of his umbrella, he pushed the green button to advance another tray of meat to packaging. He thumb-scrolled his social media stream, keeping a conscious eye to the empty observation room on the opposite side of the large glass window.

With robotic timing, he lifted the umbrella to the green button. Old habits die hard, and he had found it took deliberate effort to coax his thoughts toward randomly pushing red. With a hint of satisfaction, he forced his aim to the red button and poked it firmly.

He paused to reflect on a sentimental media post. His thoughts harkened to his new love. Daisy with her curly locks of gold. Daisy with her dark puppy-dog eyes. Daisy the cocker spaniel who stole his heart.

The doorknob rattled, springing him upright in his seat. His eyes flew to the time clock, shocked by a mid-shift visitor.

A stranger in thick glasses poked a head inside. "Sam Gordon?"

James tucked the umbrella along his side, keenly aware it was still in full sight. "No, Sam works the afternoon shift."

"Oh," the man said, entering to scan the room neurotically. "Are you sure?"

With sudden dawning, James eased his foot onto the control pedal, the one he'd rigged permanently in the engaged position using a bent paperclip. "Yeah, I'm sure. He'll be here at five, at the earliest. Ten after, more likely."

"Oh!" The man stared hesitantly at the door like it had sharp teeth. "Do you have his number?"

"Sure. I got it. What's up?"

"I can't say. May I have the number please?"

James conjured up the contact page and offered it, keeping his foot glued to the pedal at an odd angle. The man quickly punched the number into his phone and turned away with a nod. "Thanks!"

As the phone dialed, the stranger stepped outside. James wheeled to the door and listened intently. A muffled voice made it through to his curious ear. "Hello, Sam. Mister Ko would like to see you in his office immediately."

A long pause followed. "I understand, sir. But I'm afraid he's very agitated. I think it would be best for us all if you'd put on pants and come in now."

James pushed away from the door, feeling certain Sam had screwed up for the last time. A newfound joy overtook him. Even the threat of working a double shift one more night while a replacement for Sam was being hired seemed a small sacrifice to gain a relief worker who regularly showed up on time.

"Idiot," James muttered, pressing the red button.