Page 26 - Three Adventures

Deflator Mouse

[from Prophets of Doom (1988)]

Oscar Beveledge, PhD, yanked open the door to Captain Jack
Lampson’s office at not much past eight-thirty Tuesday morning.
The Litmus Industries head of security had been stirring a packet of
lightener into a Styrofoam cup of coffee; this careful bland blanching
of a bitter black whirlpool served as a daily spiritual exercise, a
restatement of his own commitment to law and order. Beveledge’s
unscheduled arrival interrupted the ritual, yanking open Lampson’s
soul, as well; Captain Jack barely resisted the jungle-fighter impulse to
go for his gun, imposing instead an expression of bureaucratic
annoyance upon his leathery jowls. He slowly withdrew his plastic
swizzle-stick and tossed it into the non-classified waste-basket.
“Good morning, Doctor Beveledge—or is it?” Heat might rise, but
contempt descended upon Jack Lampson’s desk like vapors of dry
ice.
“He—or she—is using the electronic mail system now. Your
hidden cameras in the Xerox rooms are useless. Look.”
Lampson reached for the sheets of printer output thrust toward
him by the director of Project Salamander. Their eyes met briefly
over the perforated top of the first page: Beveledge glaring through
his horn-rims like a defiant raccoon, Lampson squinting through
crow’s-feet like a sailor searching for land. The ex-Marine, ex-
policeman, ex-consultant unfolded the print-out on his blotter and
studied its contents.

To: All employees
From: Department of Futurology
Subject: Cyborg Systems and the Mechanical Expert

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