I stumbled upon it quite by accident, but somehow I had managed to infiltrate myself into the DP department. It was risky. I had to merge myself into the rest - leave normality behind.
My first encounter was with Red Face. He was exactly how I imagined him to be. His round, red face was offset by the gawdy t-shirt, which by a press of the implement in his right ear, would glow and dazzle any person who dared to encroach on his crankiness. When I saw him that first morning, he was putting his slippers on, ready for a days work. His bleeper was placed on his side as a symbol of misplaced importance. He greeted me coldly and then proceeded to work on his thesis on How To Work Without Being Present (In Mind Or In Body).
Just then, I heard some shuffling behind me. When I turned around, I saw Poss below me, standing inside a conical blue corduroy skirt. Poss was the most senior member of the department. She had been there many long years and it showed by the dust in her hair. In her hand, she held a plastic vitalite tub with some steaming porridge in. She shuffled on past me and sat down to slurp her slop.
In came Head Cook and Bottle Washer
. Head Cook was mouthing through his beard about how BBasic was basically his life support system. Bottle Washer gazed up at him in adoration. She had recently been promoted to PF (Personal Floozie). Head Cook was an intelligent, if ignorant being. He was often taken with bouts of intellectual wisdom far behind his years. He was mental in getting Bottle Washer the coveted position, which many women in the Centre desperately wanted.Sitting in their office, three floors below sick level, were the Agony Aunts, in complete unrequited agony over not getting the position they so desired. They wanted to move up in the Centre, and the third floor was the place to be - the pimpacle being the DP department. They were soon distracted from their sorrows by a visit from a client. Here was a girl who never spoke. She was the quietest person in the building. But, in she rushed, waving an imaginary list of questions, and threw her available self into an available chair. "What can we do for you, Lovey?", the Agony Aunts chorused, with ears flapping for some fascinating fears. There was silence for a moment. Then the hysterical girl spoke. Her face was contorted with rage as she spat her words of venom out. Could she really be speaking of Head Cook? Could it really be true that he was not a human being but a sophisticated device pre-programmed to overthrow the Centre?
Meanwhile, back at the ranch
, Poss was preparing herself for her daily siesta. She buttoned up her duffle coat and as she was putting the hood up, there was a loud bang! A few minutes later, she reacted. There was smoke coming from Head Cook's office! Without any hesitation, she shuffled to the door and bravely pushed it open, holding a vitalite tub over her nose to stop her from inhaling the deadly, soul destroying BBasic fumes. There was Head Cook, slumped over his desk, gasping like a fish out of water. Poss took hold of his wrist to feel his pulse and although it was an emergency, she noticed how long the hairs were on his bony hand and how they were caught up under his wedding ring. She sighed as she recalled a distant fantasy she had of whisking the dashing, debonair Head Cook off to some isolated location with just her and a computer. She remembered how her hopes were dashed when he announced he was to marry his childhood sweetheart.She was brought back to the present by Head's groaning. He was still alive! His BBasic life support system was slowly packing up. It was now a very decrepid and outdated system, but Head was very fond of it. A new one would be so different, and render his BBasic skills useless. Besides, he had a reputation to upkeep. He did not wish to be seen fumbling around attempting to learn new techniques. He stared past Poss and shouted for Bottle Washer.
Bottle Washer was never far away.
Even if she was out of earshot, the bleeper that Head had bestowed on her still kept her in constant contact with him. She burst into the office, long hair tangled in her loose braces, and took in the situation immediately. She belted out instructions to Poss, forgetting that the elderly woman was a trained nurse. Head managed to utter, "Wonderful Bottle, Wonderful". Poss shuffled out, relieved to get away from the smokey, sickly atmosphere. Her task was to begin the First Aid Backup Program to restore Head. She was tempted to run the Archive program and then destroy the restore facility so Head would be forever embalmed within version 1.6 of the BBasic system. She wanted revenge after all her years of loyal service and receiving nothing in return, not even an acknowledgement for a job well done. Unfortunately, the consequences were too awful to contemplate: promotion for Bottle.When I arrived in the next morning, I forced myself to ignore everyone. This was easier than I imagined as Poss was under her desk adjusting her fan heater and clutching her blue woolly cardigan around her. Red face was absent and I could hear laughter coming from Head's office where he was briefing Bottle. I was unaware that Head had been seriously ill the previous afternoon. In fact, I was unaware of most things going on in the DP department and only found out about them by chance. I had noticed the lack of communication between staff. This was a vital ingredient needed to run the Centre properly. I wondered if Head Cook was really as wonderful as his reputation suggested....
September 1990