Automaton #2

I observed my office from a shadowy doorway across the street. It was a little before 5 AM and the street was dark and quiet. This was fine by me, I did my best work in the dark, just ask the good lady.

I had been observing for better part of an hour hoping that my stakeout would lead to some kind of clue in the AUTOMATON case. My breath fogged in the frigid night air. Fortunately the farts from my five-bean chilli the night before were keeping the worst of the cold at bay.

A man approached the building, he looked shifty, like a duck eating hay. I tilted the brim of my hat up slightly and watched as he fumbled at a set of keys and proceeded to open up the front door and enter.

Well well well.

I remarked softly to myself.

I lit a cigarette so that I could take a drag and throw it to the ground, stubbing it out with my shoe in a blaze of sparks.

Time to get jiggy.

I hitched up my collar and strode across the road to the front door. The man, in a guard's uniform, looked up from the reception desk which he had settled in behind.

Morning chief! You're an early one intcha?

He said breezily. As if he didn't have a dozen secrets staining his soul.

Best time to catch rats.

I said heavily.

The guard looked confused as if I had shown him a photo of a horse's bosom before nodding at a clipboard.

Um, right you are. You have to sign the out of hours timesheet, the system doesn't come online till 6.

I made a small noise like a young elephant trapped in a fridge before reading his name badge and leaning over the desk to tuck a ten-pound note into his shirt collar.

Listen, Ferris, why don't you go and get yourself a coffee, hmm?

A coffee? It's 5 in the morning, where will I get a coffee?

I wafted another tenner in front of his face, where he stared at it, mesmerised by the lure of the greasy fiat.

Hard ball eh? Perhaps you misheard me. Why don't you fuck off for five minutes?

He hesitated before the lure of the Benjamins proved too much. He snatched at the tenner and tucked it along with the first into a filthy looking pocket.

Five minutes, yeah, alright.

He grabbed a torch and another clipboard and headed off.

I watched him till he was gone then pulled the out of hours timesheet round and started flipping through it. There must be something here. Something I could use. There!

EMC - Delivery/Install - Floor 3.

EMC? What did Einstein's famous equation have to do with a third rate software company?

This had to be it. I pulled out the sheet and tucked it into a pocket. The answer must lie on the third floor. I hastened to the stairs.

The third floor was dark, quiet and smelled vaguely of feet. There was just enough light seeping in from the street outside for me to see that it was largely open plan except for an area to the rear which had crude partitions blocking it off from the rest of the office.

I shimmied like an exotic dancer with a snake toward the partitions, eyes and ears alert for danger. There was a sign on one of them. I fished my phone out and flicked on the torch.

I fingered the brim of my hat thoughtfully. It was soft and velvety like a lamb's penis. It would have to do.

I skirted around one of the partitions. It was darker on this side. I shone the phone around and made out several wooden crates as tall as myself. One of them had been prised open. Slowly, I moved around to get a view of what was inside.

Nothing.

It was empty save for a cloying stink of metal and oil.

I slid over to one of the other crates and tried tugging at the seams of the front. It wouldn't budge. Dammit. Out toward the lift I heard voices. Shit, I had better not get caught.

I headed out of the partitioned area and padded softly back to the doors. Beyond I could see two men in overalls approaching. I didn't recognise them. I shoved open the doors and strode out.

Hey, who are you?

One of them attempted to block my way.

I ducked around him and walked on.

Toilet's blocked, I would try another one if I were you.

I flung the words over my shoulder as I hastened past.

What toilet? There's no toilet in there?

One of the guys shouted at my retreating back.

I got to the stairs and hastened down to my own floor and the safety of my desk. The lights were off here also. I made to flick them on and stopped. My finger hovering over the switch.

A few rows away, a large figure sat bunched in shadow at my desk.

The figure's head moved.

BoomDawg. Good morning... Why don't you put the lights on?...