THE KEENER AT THE OFFICE

Rory was popular on the second floor, mostly because he said hi to the draftsmen and secretaries when he passed. "Dude, how's it hanging?" "Morning Ralph", "Great to have you back Serena." (Serena was the middle-aged head receptionist on that level). Of course there was Rory's favourite greeting, "Whazzzzzzzzz-up!"


Unfortunately, Rory's popularity on the second floor didn't help him with girls. Engineering and architecture were still male-dominated professions. On the second floor, Edna Williams was a senior architect, emphasis on senior. Betty Latour was young but married. There were a couple of secretaries the right age . . . but they discouraged Rory, albeit more politely and adroitly than Barb. In fairness, they actually liked him . . . just not in the way Rory'd have wanted.

Rory's office was a corner office, but not the perk that Ethan's had been. The door marked "Rory R. Keener" was in the shadow of a massive metal cabinet that was always locked shut. Next to Rory's office, and behind that cabinet, was thin air. Thin air in the form of the elevator shaft that carried Mr. Roderick Abbott's car to his private suite of penthouse offices.

Rory occasionally heard the elevator gears. But the wall was thick, and it may as well been a coffin carrying Mr. Roderick Abbott's car up and down the stairs.

Rory again had a view of the honking cars on Lakeshore. If Rory wasn't a social guy (or at least want to be), he'd probably have stayed at home with Krypto. The condo's view of Lakeshore was better than the office's.

Well, Rory thought it was something everyone seemed to like him.

Almost everybody. The Baker project was Rory's first big job, his first team effort. He was the sole architectural engineer developing the blueprints that would shape the townhomes, bungalows and two-story detached houses in ten different housing developments by the Baker Contractors.

There were ten sets of blueprints on order . . . ten different models of homes that would fill the subdivisions. And first on the list to be approved by Old Man Baker was the flagship, the expensive, three-quarter of a million dollar "Imperial".

The two other architects on the job were only a little older than Rory. Phillip Rosseter and Mackenzie Beauchamp. Rosseter and Beauchamp both despised Rory. Happily, Rory hardly noticed.

But Rosseter was the worst.


"Hey dudes" said Rory. "When are we going to design the Imperial? Old Man Baker wants to see it next month. That your Bungowloft, buddy? I've got some time this afternoon to look it over?"

Beauchamp just shrugged at Rory, muttering he was busy with other work. He carried the blueprints for the "Bungowloft" into his office and locked the doors.

"We'll get to you" said Rosseter. "Isn't there some engineering you should work on?"

"I'm an architect too" Rory pointed out. "I do way more architecting here than engineering."

"All I need you for is the damned engineering" Rossetter returned. "I'll call you when I need you. Which won't be soon."

"Warp 10 butthead" Rory muttered, and went to his office.


Rory cheered up later. He had a small project he had finished, a house for a middle-aged couple called the Kellys. Rory still liked to make people happy; he had complete carriage of the file. He had surveyed the country lot a couple hours to the north, and adapted an existing plan to the Kelly's requirements. Penny Kelly was disabled after a car accident, but didn't want to have a bungalow, nor maintain an elevator, so the blueprints involved ramps at a certain grade certified safe by an engineer.

Rory answered a call.

"What do you mean by booking one of the second-floor conference rooms for your clients?" demanded Rosseter.

"What's it to you, dude?" said Rory angrily. "Take it up with John McMurdo if you don't like it. I already talked to Ms. Williams."

"Maybe I don't want to have to host the Ahuja's in my little office. You're the newb here. Or are you embarrassed they put you behind the elevator."

"Maybe the Kelly's are spending a lot of money to get us to design their house" Rory retorted. "Maybe Penny Kelly can't get past the filing cabinet in her wheelchair. Maybe I even like my office but that has nothing to do . . . ."

Rosseter hung up.


Rory had a good conversation with the Kelly's and their contractor, and felt very good . . . especially after the razzing from Rosseter all morning.

"Whatever made you decide to be an architect" asked Kelly, as Rory shook his hands good bye. Rory had gone for a fist bump when the contractor offered one, but shook hands with Kelly. McMurdo-Abbott specifically banned fist bumps with clients, another example of their stultifying stuffiness.

"I like buildings" started Rory plainly, with a shrug "And especially cool ones, and making people happy. My pals and I, Ethan Morgan and Benny Weir, decided late in high school to go in engineering . . . and I wanted to do something more . . . uh, imaginative, than just plain engineering. I wanted to do something big . . . I mean there was a time when I might have been forced . . . not to."

Rory left unsaid the forced anonymity you had to cling to if you went through the centuries as an un-aging, rat-biting, soulless teenage bloodsucker. Rory looked surprised as he said it, as this was literally the first time in over a month he had remembered.

Rory shrugged it off and returned to his office. Rory killed the time during the day by working on another project, making plans to look at the grades on a few lots the following week, having lunch and daydreaming about designing, say, an office building, condo tower, or even a mall or hotel.

Rory was also stuck waiting on Rosseter. Rory realized, to his annoyance, that Rosseter had procrastinated with the Imperial-model house.


And when Rosseter finally showed up at 3pm, Rory had new cause to be irritated.

"DUDE, I'm not going to approve something you won't let me see!" Rory protested.

Rory held up his hand to show the Iron Ring worn by Canadian-trained engineers (Rory's was actually stainless-steel, as most were these days). Rory had taken part in the quasi-secret Ritual of the Calling of an Engineer that, again, most Canadian-trained engineers partake in.

"You think you're going to impress me with that ring and that bogus ritual you guys go through."

"It's not bogus!" Rory exclaimed, standing up heatedly. "DUDE . . . I know what a bogus ceremony looks like, and that's not it!"

The two looked on the point of blows. Rory wasn't as good with his fists as his Mom (embarrassing to say), but he was energetic. And Rory could weave and dodge as only a human being who had practice running at super-speeds could do.

Rory considered Rosseter's claim a deep insult against everything he worked for. How much did Rory value his years of hard work and professional integrity? Had Rosseter called Star Wars, Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica a load of crap Rory wouldn't be half-so-insulted.

"You don't need to see the plans" Rosseter returned in an oily tone. "You just need to check the engineering. Floor joists, insulation, that sort of thing. I'm actually saving you the trouble. Trust me, I know how it works. You've been working here for less than a year."

"I've gone to university for years, I've been trained. Nobody's ever told me about looking over half a set of plans!" Rory said.

"It's cool . . .Rorster" said Rosseter. "This is how we always do it, it saves labour."

Rosseter couldn't help but laugh at Rory. Rory had his eyes-crossed, deep thinking expression.

Rory was very skeptical. Rory had painfully fought his gullibility for years; every ounce of common sense he had needed to be learnt.

"I'll sign it" said Rory at last, adding "you fracking doofus" under his breath. "But I'll put on I only looked at the plans for the outside walls, roof and . . . stuff."

"Fine by me" said Rosseter. "Remember, I'm your boss on the project. Chief architect. You're only my engineer."

Rory looked at the plans, while the impatient Rosseter looked over Rory's shoulders.

"If this is the flagship house, you need better insulation. You put down all the wrong values."

"It's to minimum code, Keener."

"Bro, key word. Minimum. Yeah, you want it to keep the temp better. More fuel efficient and the environmental stuff people like."

"Forget it. No one buying a house knows enough to look"

"I'll just make a note buddy."

"Don't scribble on the plans, put it in your comments. The one you want to sign that you didn't look at the whole plan."

"Okay, dude. If you're being so cheap on insulation . . . you might want to remember to better insulate the inside walls? It's a two story, so definitely the floor. Top of the line."

"Why?"

"Sound, buddy. Especially bedrooms."

"That's not your business."

"And about the basement, Phil."

"Now what, Keener? A secret passage, or a secret room? You're the type, I know."

"Nuh-uh. How can you even have a secret room in a survey blueprint? No, you need to put in a sump-pump. That's a full basement you have there."

"Are you crazy? It's not as if the basement's even finished"

"Dude, a basement that size should have a sump pump in the plans. Even if the water table's low, we've got spring rains, winter snow. It'll be cheaper for the people who buy the house if you put in the sump pump and your weeping tile around the foundation. Especially if they want to finish the basement too. And because they'll be spending already six or seven hundred grand plus, a lot of them might want to."

Rosetter laughed. "Write it up in your report, Keener. I just hope Baker won't see it. But when my idea sells, you can join Beauchamp and me for some celebratory burritos next door. Now print a copy of that signed memo, and be sure Serena gets it to me by end of day."

Rosetter slapped Rory on the shoulder. Rory didn't consider it a friendly gesture, and the usually easy-going Keener's blood rushed to his face.


Rory left work, practically ripping off his tie when he reached his car. Why should he take anything from a guy like Rosetter! But by the time he was on the road, listening to Single Tear complain about how tough it was to be them, Rory calmed down as everything but Rosseter had gone good that day.


In his way, Rosetter was crazier than Rory. It takes a large amount of insanity and ego to jealously guard your blueprints from the one qualified engineer on the project. But the "Imperial" model house was Rosetter's "baby", and he didn't want anyone tampering with it.

"You know, Mac" Rosetter bragged to Beauchamp, "I really handled that son of a bitch Keener like the pro I am. I had him approve our blueprint without putting in his crazy two cents. On Tuesday, Baker's going to praise us to the skies, and get us a bonus."

"But what are we going to do with the bastard's report?" said Beauchamp. "We can't just rip it up. We might want to incorporate his sump pump at least."

"Let that damned idiot have anything to do with our project?" said Rosseter. "No, we'll stuff it in the back of our file . . . and I'll black out Keener's recommendations with my good ol' indelible marker. All I need from Keener is where he wrote "no required changes" and stamped "approved".

"Keener might get another copy over to Baker."

"Like Baker will listen to Keener instead of me" said Rosseter dismissively.