Saturday, November 22, 2014

Fifth Beginning - Part Three Nanowrimo 2014

Over-ripe banana, Sums decided. The smell was composed of over-ripe banana and . . . dog food? Yes. Dry dog food that had been moistened and left to sit. Sums forced images of her sisters' parts of the house out of her mind. There was also something that was almost a faint armpit smell, but it was somehow bringing up an image of microscopes.

Perhaps she was thinking of microscopes because she had thought of research earlier. And perhaps she was getting ahead of the evidence in assuming research. Just because she had never heard of cobweb/body magic didn't mean that it was new. Still, she had said research to Charles and there was no reason to gainsay that until there was reason to.

No. Thinking of research wasn't the reason she was thinking of microscopes. There was an intuition guiding the image. If she had been talented enough to do systems monitoring, she'd be able to tease out the subliminal impressions that lay behind her intuition.

But she wasn't a system monitor or a system operator or a system designer.  She only had enough talent to measure and chart energy flows and to use manufactured devices.  Most days she was completely comfortable with that.  She was talent heavy for an analyst and relied on her intuition to guide her through odd patterns quickly.

Some part of her intuition was saying 'research'.  In a normal situation she would be content to trust her intuition but verify the flows.  Standing in a factory full of dead bodies, though, she wished that her intuition could be more forthcoming about what was happening here.

Sums slowed as she approached the first entry.  The entire first floor was wooden walls up to slightly more than waist height, then windows up to a high ceiling.  The entry, which had no doors, was not quite wide enough to drive a delivery truck through.

Charles bustled past Sums.  "Department of Permits.  Routine inspection.  Mr. Asmundson?"

He seemed not to care about what was in the room besides the fact that it wasn't Mr.  Asmundson.  Mr. Asmundson must have made quite an impression.

Sums stood in the doorway and scanned from left to right.  This was a delivery and storage area.  There were bolt holes in the floor and discoloration in the concrete indicating that this used to be four rooms.  Now it was one open area.  The support pillars had been painted in the regulation stripes required for areas where fork lifts and mover wands were used.  There were stacks of bags and bins and boxes on wooden pallets.

Sums lifted the L-rods and rotated.  Nearly nothing.  She frowned.  There had been more.  She heard clanking and looked up.  Charles had found a set of very open metal stairs and was tapping up them quickly.  Sums had a brief impression of a child running with a balloon.  

No comments:

Post a Comment

If you've read much of this blog, you know what the chances are that I'll keep up with moderating comments. You may be casting your comments into the howling void.