RFQC 4: Wastewater
"Its really sweet of you to help me out—er? QC was it?"
"My pleasure Mr Frankly," QC helped to move a pile of folders and papers from one desk to another. "I'm one of the few who have been here the longest and I'm happy to answer any questions you may have. If you could answer a few of mine."
"Quid pro quo my dear?"
"Exacte," QC went back for another box while Frank chuckled. "I admit that I haven't meet many Puppets before, and the ones I had met in the past were considerably smaller. They often traveled to my homeland in wagons and set up little shows that we would all watch."
"They sound like Marionettes. They come in all sizes and tend to have nomadic lives. Puppets do have a very wide range of species and subspecies. Some of us are small, and others can even be the size of buildings. Some of us are buildings. It pretty much depends on the strength of the magic used."
"Magic? The Ponies that were here before used a lot of magic in their day to day. Are Puppets magical?"
"Of course we are," Frank sat down at his desk. He had painted the office and had just finished moving his furniture and files back in. "Granted there are many schools of magic so it becomes a philosophical debate on exactly how its used or if it even exists. When something becomes commonplace in your life its easy to take for granted. And now its your turn Ms QC, what are you? You're not a Puppet."
QC sighed with a smile. "I come from a different place entirely. Called Rainbow Land. I lived with many of my friends. We called ourselves the Color Kids, even though I'm not a kid anymore. We all have to grow up sometime right?" she smiled sadly. "We all had important jobs to do, together with our leader we brought color to so many worlds. I was in charge of the color Yellow. So I was given the name Canary Yellow."
"You sound like a magical creature yourself Ms Yellow. Although more of an Elemental than a sprite," Frank chuckled again. "What an interesting conversation this is turning out to be!"
"You don't find it unusual?" QC asked.
"I find it fitting that a color elemental works in a factory that makes rainbows. My neighbor Julie can speak to flowers. If I can accept that, then why not this?"
QC giggled a bit despite herself. Wally didn't have a high opinion of Frank, but QC was beginning to warm to him. "I suppose you're right," she held picture frames of butterflies while Frank drove nails in the walls to hang them. "So what do you think of the Factory so far?"
"Its a mess and needs a lot of work. The files and filing systems are ancient, I can't determine who is still working here and who quit, we need new certifications for so many things. I did manage to fill the cafeteria needs and I'm currently on the lookout for medical personnel. With that in place I can get better talent in to fill out the rest. This place may be a factory but that doesn't mean it has to be miserable."
QC pondered that. She had only known misery in this place, from one day to the next. The idea that it could be an actual pleasant place to work never really crossed her mind. Suffering seemed to be the point. Ms Dash certainly made it part of the process. That Pony had felt that suffering brought out brighter colors, and she wasn't wrong about it either.
"Are you okay Ms Yellow? You look like your kitten just died."
QC tried to brighten up again. "Yeah, just lost in thought. Its been so long since anyone has been remotely hopeful about this place. It feels weird."
Frank nodded, his head spun around for another frame and QC handed one over to him. It was a lovely butterfly with a soft gradient of reds and yellow that softened into deep blue. "Coming into a mess can be daunting. I do not envy Wally in the slightest."
"I thought you two didn't like each other."
Here Frank paused, his tone went from cheerful to one more matching his frowning features. "He was a weird kid. Not always quite there...if you get what I mean. And not in a daydreaming sense either. Just not...there. I'll be honest and say that at times it was kinda hard to be around him. Like he would enter a room and just suck all the life out of it. But he got better as he got older. Learned to get with the program so to speak. Got a job, got his life on track, and then one night Home burnt down. We thought we had lost Wally too, but we found him the next day in the ashes, unharmed and covered by this black goo. We got him cleaned up and he moved in with Barnaby. But he had changed. It was like he had awoken from some long sleep, and instead of the sweet shy person we had all come to know, there was an asshole in his place." Frank hung the frame on a nail and went to pound another into the wall. "Then the rumors started. We are all fairly certain that Wally committed murder, but we can't prove it without a doubt."
QC made a firm internal decision to never give Frank a factory tour. "Who do you think he killed?"
Frank huffed. "Remember when I told you that Puppets can even be buildings? Home was one of those. A little red house. We are all pretty sure that Wally burned his own house down."
QC handed up another frame, this one with an assortment of colorful grasshoppers. "So if the whole neighborhood is mad at him, why help?"
"Because we've never seen him this genuinely happy. Its like he's finally complete."
QC picked the last frame from the box. "If its any consolation Mr Frankly, Mr Walden fits right in here."
"I am so terribly sorry to hear that a Doozy had wrought such destruction on your Factory Mr Darling! But you should already know they can be unpredictable creatures!"
Wally rubbed his face with one hand and held a phone up to his ear with the other. Like everything else in here, it was archaic technology. At least it was a push-button phone and not a rotary. "We can handle Doozys provided we are given adequate warning. This one wasn't even registered on the bill of lading when I reviewed it."
"Hoo-Ooo! Surprise!" the voice chuckled at the other end. "Consider it a bonus! Free of charge! A hearty welcome to the business Mr Darling. There might even be a few more this week!"
"Look, as your customer I don't want any more surprises, especially Doozy-based ones. What I need is at least forty-eight hours notice if one will be included in shipment of raw material so I can have my teams ready at this end, or else I will send the bastards back, charge you for transport and then go to Lidsville Farms for my future needs. Have I made myself clear Mr N-Stuf?" Wally felt his temper begin to rise, then QC stepped into his office doorway carrying a small plastic wrapped paper plate. She saw that he was on the phone and nodded, making a "shhh" gesture.
"You seem to be a bit upset Mr Darling. Perhaps I had been a little hasty. I will make a note that you will be given notice if anymore Doozys are heading your way. As for the damage done to your Factory, going by the pictures you had sent in your e-lec-tron-ic letter thingamajig, I cannot verify what was preexisting damage and what may have been caused by the Doozy. So you will have to take that up with your insurance!" the voice down the line said with a chipper tone.
QC's presence seemed to somewhat calm Wally's temper. She set the plate down on his desk, then grabbed his coffee mug and left the room. "No more surprise Doozy's please," his said through clenched teeth.
"It was an honest accident! Our businesses have had such a good relationship over the years, lets not allow one small tiny event ruin a good thing."
QC returned and set the mug down on a folded napkin, then took a seat in a chair opposite Wally at his desk. He raised an eyebrow at her and continued. "I understand the Rainbow Factory and Living Island Farms have been working together for a long time, but this is a new age under new management and I expect more from my suppliers. We take pride in our work, and when our ability to do so suffers, we become passionate."
"Ah shucks, I accept your apology Mr Darling, expect two Doozys tomorrow!"
"What-"
"Toodleloo!" the line went dead
Wally stared dumbly at the phone in his hand. He lifted his arm to slam it down on the receiver, but QC half-climbed onto the desk to snatch it from his grip before he could. She gently hung up the phone then moved it out of his long reach. Wally grumbled to himself and reached for the coffee and plate instead. "Whats this?"
"Cake from the cafeteria. Figured you would need it after talking to Mr Pufnstuf. He gets on everyone's nerves," QC explained. "He basically runs all of Living Island. He might not send over the best material, but it does arrive in bulk. We really only order from Lidsville if we have a larger quota to meet."
Wally bit into the cake then paused mid chew. He looked down at the plate and studied the simple cake. "The cafeteria made this? I know this recipe. One of my neighbors would make it every autumn."
QC grinned. "Frank told me that even though your neighbors couldn't be here, they wanted to help out in small ways. So your neighbor Poppy gave them a copy of her cookbook. I think its a sweet gesture."
Wally took another bite, closing his eyes and chewing slowly. QC watched with a sly grin as he savored every bite. He eventually set the empty plate down and looked away in thought.
"Is everything okay?"
"No." Wally answered softly. He picked up the coffee mug and looked into it, catching his reflection on the dark surface for a moment, "A few things have been bothering me lately."
"I'm all ears if you need someone to talk to," QC pulled her legs up and sat cross legged in the chair.
Wally watched the small woman get comfortable. He couldn't stay mad around her, it seemed her very presence would diffuse any anger he felt and he had to admit that was a good thing. "This Factory. Its like its been left feral for too long. It needs order and consistency. I have ideas on how to do it, but every time I try to implement a new program or make adjustments, something goes horribly wrong. Like its a toddler throwing a fit. I know its silly to try to personify it, it is just a building after all."
QC shrugged. "You might not be terribly off from the mark. Whenever the Rainbow Factory is retooled and new management takes over, the Factory itself takes on characteristics of the Manager. Frank said that Puppets come in all shapes and sizes, some are even buildings and houses. Is it such a stretch to think the Factory would take on a personality too?"
"Thats different," Wally said sharply. Still, she had made a very valid point. If that was the case then… "Why am I here?"
"Pardon?"
"Puppets that are buildings are fully sentient. They can move, then can sing and sneeze and do most of the things that other Puppets can. They don't need caretakers. On that thought, why does the Factory need a Puppet Manager? Wouldn't it be easier to choose another race? I haven't met many Ponies, but I'm sure they can process the material just as well."
QC thought about it for a moment. "I think...its because Puppets understand Puppets better. Forgive me if I'm speaking out a bit here, but...from my perspective its like Puppets are personifications of various emotional states. There are puppets like Frank that wear a constant frown even though he's not necessarily a sad or mad person. So many others are serious, some are permanently happy. As far as material goes, Puppets are actually quite predictable in what kind of Pure they will produce."
"Oh?" Wally felt a smirk creep over his features. "Emotional states? Then what emotion do I personify Ms Yellow?"
QC studied him for a moment. She remembered the plays the Marionettes had put on in the Sprite Village in Rainbow Land. All the different ones had their different type casts. Puppets in general loved to perform, to sing and dance, but there was always one type that was apart from the others. "You remind me of..."
"Of?"
"An Audience Surrogate," she said softly.
Wally finished his coffee. "This conversation is getting too deep for the amount of work I still have ahead of me," he set the mug down. "What else did Frank tell you?"
QC was grateful for the shift. "You had a bit of a rough childhood, but you pulled through."
"And?"
"And nothing more of any importance," QC unfolded her legs, then stood and stretched. "Mr Walden, the people that get jobs in this Factory cannot work anywhere else. I haven't looked at the exact numbers myself, but I would guess between seventy-five to ninety percent of us have criminal records, or are just generally antisocial or don't think like the others of our races But no one cares. We found a place to belong here, and we can't leave. Its one of the few places our horrible backgrounds or twisted minds are not just accepted, but celebrated here. When you step through that door, whatever happened in your past doesn't matter because there is someone else here that has done much worse. All that matters is your ability to get product processed and out the door."
Wally chewed on this thought. It was refreshing. The closest thing he would get to a clean slate. But it also brought up the question of what QC had done to end up here. Before he could voice the thought, their radios squawked.
"Maintenance to QC."
QC lifted the radio to her lips. "Go ahead for QC."
"We got a thunderstorm coming in, looks nasty."
QC sighed. "On my way."
Wally watched her clip the radio to her vest. "Thunderstorm? This place gets weather?"
"On occasion. If its particularity bad the drains start to back up, so I've put a few procedures in place to help minimize the damage in that event."
"Do you need any-"
"I've got this Mr Walden. You have your work and I have mine. Please, please stay here. I don't care what you hear on the radio, or if the power goes out, please let us do our jobs."
Wally sighed. "You're worried I'm going to get into trouble again."
"I know you will get into trouble again. Please Mr Walden, stay in your office until the storm passes and I give the all clear."
Wally lifted his hands in mock surrender then turned his attention to the keyboard and waiting computer monitor. He wondered for a moment if he would be able to hear the sound of the rain this deep in the Factory. QC left his office, leaving the door open, then opened another random one in the hall. It seemed that she was sticking to Wally's unofficial rule of not opening his own office door directly into another office. There were plenty of doors in the hall to use. At this point it was just manners. He kept the radio on to listen in on the comings and goings of the Factory while he tapped away at the keyboard.
First up were new HAZMAT certifications and documentation for some of their shippers. While the Rainbow Factory itself had no real governmental oversight, they still had to play nice when it came to some of their inks and pigments. Quite a few were highly flammable and had to be shipped with care and thus shippers needed proper documentation to move them. There were the invoices of incoming materials used to make the Factory run on the regular. Orders that needed to be arranged, customer complaints to be navigated, budgeting to be done, all manner of things that he hoped would eventually be done by someone else. And oh yes, the ever-present reports of inventory and daily yield totals. By the time he got to the daily yield graphs and flow charts, his four-fingered hand was already reaching for his empty mug of coffee.
The radio hadn't been silent all along either. He listened as different departments reported minor flooding and what was being done to remedy the problem. He didn't hear any rain so Wally supposed there was too much roof and walls around him to make out anything. He heard a door open in the hall and glanced up for a moment to see if anyone was coming through. No one passed by his door, so he returned to the computer screen. The inventory showed that the Factory was overstocked on glitter, they only needed so much for the range of products that used it. He wrote a note pondering if they could find a market for the overstock. Someone in the paint industry, or nail polish industry or something had to need massive quantities of raw untinted glitter. On the other hand the supplies of Pure were stable and a bit overstocked themselves. While certain colors like red were always going to be in high demand, they were unable to reliably produce one of their better selling products, full sets of pigments for use in many industries. And thus had lost orders if not entire customer branches.
Wally checked the numbers and saw they were miserably low on Violet Pure. The harvest totals from the Device were frequently low, and boosting numbers through artificial means by combining Blue and Red Pure were not quite meeting the quality standards that had been set by the company. Most of the Violet Pure went to their flagship product, Rainbows of course. He began tapping around to explore this strange gap in supply when he heard a strange sound in the hall. It sounded like someone had slapped a wet towel on the tile.
Wally almost gratefully looked over the top of his computer monitor at the door and hall beyond, anything to get his mind and brain off all of these disappointing numbers. The first thing he saw was water steadily creeping across the floor, followed by the wet slapping sound he had heard before. Was Clayburn up here mopping? Wally stood from his desk and went to investigate.
"I need all Maintenance personnel to Wastewater, I repeat, all Maintenance to Wastewater!" QC's voice suddenly called over the radio. "Bring your clubs, the eels are back."
Wally's gaze darted between the radio and the hall. "Eels?" He closed the distance from his desk to his door quickly and peeked into the hall. There was water on the floor, and more coming every moment however there was no Clayburn in sight. The water was coming from the restrooms. Curiosity pulled him toward the restroom door and Wally carefully nudged it open, then quickly stepped back, startled. The floor was covered in slimy gray wriggling eels of all sizes, they oozed from the toilets and sinks, spilling over to the floor where they flopped and squirmed over each other. Wally let go of the door and cursed, then practically ran back to his office. "What is wrong with the plumbing in this place?"
He had been good, he had stayed in the office and somehow trouble still managed to find him. "Nope, I am not dealing with this on my own, QC told me to stay out of it," he mumbled to himself. Wally reached his office and shut the door. He had been wondering if the door ways were waterproof. His mind raced as he thought about a place that hadn't been affected by the flooding. He eventually decided on the HR office and opened the door to Franks surprised frown.
"How did you-"
"Not now Frank," Wally turned and saved his files then shut off his computer. He grabbed his radio from the shelf and a convenient pipe from behind the door to use as a weapon. He shut the door and stood among all the freshly painted signs and crafted butterflies. Probably Eddies doing. Both Frank and Wally turned as the restroom in the HR office began to make a gurgling sound. Wally quickly crossed the room and opened the restroom door to see another eel, thicker around than his arm start to wiggle its way out of the toilet bowl. He slammed the door and locked it.
"What is that smell?" Frank covered his nose.
Wally hadn't noticed the smell until now. It was truly terrible. It was the smell of rotting fish, combined with rotting sewage, combined with the chemical backwash of days worth of processing. Wally shrugged and looked over at Frank. "Management right? Gotta roll with the punches?"
"There are punches and then there is this!"
"Bronson I need you to get that crane over here, the main drain and spillway has been clogged, its got a lot of debris blocking it."
"10-4 QC."
Wally couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy. He should be the one out there guiding his men on what to do, taking charge and proving to them that he was the leader they needed. But on the other hand, he had to trust them to do their jobs. As much as he wanted to be the one shouting orders over the radio, he had no idea how Wastewater worked or where they were. It was yet another thing that QC was good at and he still had to learn.
Wally could hear the rain just fine in the HR office. It pounded in sheets against the windows as if someone were outside with a fire hose.
"Hey QC, we got a big problem."
"Go for QC."
"The retention ponds are starting to spill over, and the eels are getting onto the production floor."
"Shit."
Wally glanced back at the closed restroom door. More filthy water began to seep under the door frame. If this was what every drain in the entire Factory was doing, then the production areas were going to be a mess of filthy water, eels, and both in various stages of decay getting walked through and tracked throughout the facility. That was not good. Wally hesitated for a moment, QC had told him to stay put, but he had to do something. He lifted the radio to his lips. "All members of production, close all doors and if necessary take refuge on higher ground. Shut down any machines or equipment if it is safe to do so."
Silence then a chorus of "10-4's" came over the radio.
Wally closed his eyes, recalling not so much the layout as the flow of the factory. One process would lead to another, then another. What areas would have the most drainage? Who would be using the most water? Where were the retention ponds located? If they spilled over what would be affected most? Probably Live Hang, followed closely by..."Mixing Room, what is the situation there?"
"About three feet of water and swimming in eels. We got the lids down on the pots, but can't guarantee we won't lose anything."
"Get to safety. We can always make more pigment. Its hard to find more of you."
"10-4 Mr Walden."
Wally licked his lips nervously. "Everyone else, shut down what you can, secure what you can, and come to the cafeteria. QC, is there anything you need?"
Dead silence hung on the radio for a moment, then she answered back. "A cup of hot coffee and a warm towel when I finish up?" Wally grinned despite himself. "But if you can spare them, some of the bigger guys from Live Hang and Stackoff. The berms on the retention pondsaren't looking great, we need to shore them up if possible, at least until we can relieve some pressure by clearing the drain and spillways."
"10-4," Wally answered. He lowered the radio and looked over at Frank whose features held an approving frown instead of an irritated one.
"Well it seems QC was right, you found a place for yourself here." Frank nodded.
Wally looked down at the radio in his hand, then back up at his neighbor. "Can you please help me keep an eye on the ones that show up in the cafeteria?"
"Sure thing, Mr Walden." Frank grinned.
Wally took a deep breath and went into the hall. Workers of all kinds were coming from the plant to shelter in the cafeteria. Some only had wet feet, some were soaked from top to bottom, others were carrying armloads of eels and giggling. Almost all greeted Wally politely. Wally then asked for volunteers to go assist at the retention ponds. When he had a sizable force, he let a few lead the way outside into the pouring rain. For the most he followed along with them, past the field containing the Color Crystal hoppers and then on to the Wastewater retention ponds. There were two of them side by side, square in shape and bordered by berms made of gravel and sand. He saw QC and Bronson, the rockman mechanic, near a crane that had been parked on an outside berm. She had forgotten to grab a raincoat, and stood in her high-vis vest directing the Puppets and people around her to help clear one of the main spillways. Wally directed his men to collect the debris and use it to re-enforce the sandy berm on the exterior of the retention ponds. The dark water churned in the rain with eels brought to the surface by the disturbance.
Wally joined QC after his men had found a rhythm to their task. QC grinned. "I thought I told you to stay put."
"There's eels all over the hall outside my office door, and it smells."
"How do you smell with no nose?"
"Just because...We can discuss this later."
QC's grin spread to a genuine smile. She turned her rain-soaked features up toward him. "You Puppets are weird, but thank you for your help."
The crane swung around and dropped a claw into the water, then pulled up a cluster of metal scrap and tree branches. Wally guessed this was another place that upkeep had been lacking on. Even though he had never studied Wastewater, it was easy enough to make sense of the system. The two retention ponds were side by side and contained excess water that couldn't be introduced back into the environment yet. But in large rain events like these, over flow and out-flow systems would allow the water to flow to the drain field near the Factory, whatever "near" the Factory could be. Wally began to notice that the outside of the Factory was a fairly stable place, but the inside was still an ever-changing mess. Outside seemed to follow most rules of logic, insofar as you weren't trying to get away from it.
The crane dipped again and brought up more debris. More water began to flow through the spillway, and the workers were able to repair some of the crumbling berm at the side of the ponds. QC left Wally's side and approached the crane, pointing at the water to direct where to dredge next. Wally turned his head to watch her go, but noted that something was off. The sandy berm that the crane had been parked on was developing cracks. One of the stabilizing feet on the crane closest to the water began to sink into the wet dirt. QC had her back to the crane, and Wally watched as the footer suddenly buckled inward, as if someone had kicked it,and the entire crane began to tilt toward the water. Wally tried to shout a warning. QC turned as the opposite footer popped up from the wet ground and smacked her soundly in the head. Her hardhat flew off in two pieces and she fell backward into the turgid water along with the crane.
Wally made no sound. He reflexively dove into the water after her as the people on the side shouted and called for ropes and chains. Wally had never been a good swimmer, and was even less of one fully clothed. He saw her high-vis vest in the grey water and reached for her. But the eels were there first. He pulled away slimy fistfuls of the creatures, wrapped one arm around her waist, then used his other hand to hold onto the scaffolding of the crane. He pushed her out of the water, away from the eels and toward Bronsons open arms.
Bronson grabbed a fistful of her vest and shirt and pulled QC out with ease, then set her down on the ground. Wally felt a twist in his gut at the doll-like way her body lay limp on the berm. Even in the rain he could make out blood and massive bruising down the side of her head. Bronson then extended his hand toward Wally. Wally reached out and the crane slipped again, taking him into the water with it. He tried to steady himself against it but felt large jaws suddenly close around the back of his boot. With a sudden jerk, he was yanked under the surface of the water. Foul water filled his mouth and nose, Wally kicked and extended his arms out in an attempt to slow his decent. More eels and much larger beasts impacted with his midsection forcing what little air he had left from his lungs. And still he was pulled down into the dark. The eels bit and tasted him, ripping his clothes in an attempt to find what passed for flesh.
Weightless under the water, his body screaming for air, and heart screaming for QC's safety, something inside snapped.
Those gathered around the edges of the retention pond could see a red light that grew steadily bigger and brighter under the surface. Dead eels began to rise to the top of the water in large numbers. Then came the sound of creaking boards and tearing metal. The crane suddenly ejected forcefully from the water, righting itself momentarily and falling to the opposite side of the berm. A few of the workers ran out of the way as the crane toppled over again. The debris blocking the overflow grates bubbled violently to the surface. Boards and other flotsam then seemed to guide themselves to the edges of the pond as the water began to flow unimpeded to the drain field. The water continued to glow red for another moment, then a black whirlpool began at the center of the pond, a dark spiral that soon consumed all the the red light and lapped at the edges of the pond. Debris that became caught up within the spiral was collected and reassigned new places to repair the crumbling berms, fusing together to form walls against the collapse of the structure.
Near the edge of the pond, Wally's arm calmly extended from the water and he climbed out on his own. Bronson took one look at the Factory Managers face and then stumbled backward, falling square on his rear in terror. Wally bent over in the rain and gently picked QC up from the ground, then began to walk slowly back to the Factory with her in his arms.
Inside near the cafeteria, Frank was taking a head count when he sensed movement behind him. He turned and saw Wally walking up the hall away from him, taking slow deliberate steps. He was dripping wet from head to toe, leaving puddles of foul muddy water with every footstep. "Hey Wally, are you okay?"
Wally kept walking.
"Wally?" Frank repeated.
He stopped outside the nurses office.
"Wally are you alright?" Frank left the cafeteria doorway and shuffled to catch up.
"Wally" slowly turned his head to look at Frank, and the gray puppet felt his heart freeze. Wally's eyes had turned completely red. There were no more iris or pupil, just burning pure Red. Black oily tear tracks ran down his cheeks and collected at his chin. It looked like that same goop the Neighbors had scraped off him years before. "Wally" shifted QC in his arms, then reached out and rested his left hand carefully on the door handle of the nurses office. The knob turned with an audible and pronounced click. He pulled the door open slowly, causing it to creak long and loud. "Wally" then stepped through and the door slammed behind him firmly. Frank backed into a wall and took in deep breaths.
That was not Wally.
Frank collected himself and opened the door to the nurses office. But that was QC, an unconscious and injured QC. Frank followed the muddy foot prints around the counter to the back room where the beds were. In the center of the room stood this thing wearing Wally's body. That was exactly how it seemed. Like whatever it was found it uncomfortable to walk and move. It set QC down on a bed, then pulled up a chair and slowly sat down. Frank was torn between helping QC or restraining whatever was wearing Wally. He finally grabbed a first aid kit and went for QC, his head literally swiveling between the two of them. Wally's head dropped to his chest and his body relaxed, a Puppet with his strings cut. Slowly he started to return to himself, it was the set of his shoulders, the way his fingers would curl slightly when at rest, or how his left foot would always lazily tilt one way.
Frank stepped away to grab an ice pack for QC, and returned to see Wally looking around the nurses office in confusion. "You okay Wall?"
"How did I get here?" he whispered.
"You walked in with QC, I'll try for details later, but I can only treat one of you at a time. Will you be okay for a moment?"
"Maybe," Wally looked up. His eyes had returned to normal but for the moment he didn't look like the adult he had become. He seemed lost and confused. He lifted a hand and used his palm to rub his cheek, smearing the black tracks on that side of his face. In that moment Frank connected a few pieces in his mind. Ever since he was a kid, Wally couldn't keep his hands off his face, whenever he was nervous, upset or excited he used that same open palmed rub on his cheeks just under his eyes. Had those black tears always been a problem?
Frank gave Wally a clean hand towel. "Here, use this. There's some wipes on the counter over there and a mirror if you need it. Clean up, get yourself together, because this mess is far from over. I'll take care of Ms Yellow and call an ambulance."
"They won't come."
"Then I'll do the best I can until the nurse I hired shows up tomorrow."
Wally looked at the towel in his hands, then covered his face with it. For just a moment he was old Wally again. Kind of lost, kind of confused, but kind all the same. When he lowered the towel that hard look was back. The asshole had returned. The mask was back on. "Thank you Frank. Please let me know when she wakes up."
Clean up after the storm was a long laborious process. Every drain in the Factory had backed up, and almost every one of them had eels come slithering out. The entire Factory echoed with the sounds of portable pumps and high velocity air dryers, all stirring up a miasma of rotten fish, sewage and cleaning chemicals. Some areas only needed a quick pass with a squeegee and a fan set down. Others, like the mixing room were a combination of sump pumps, scrubbing brooms and mops, and dumpsters worth of dead eels to be hauled away. The eels were of all sizes, some were hair fine small things, clear like living glass, others were over twenty feet long and two feet in diameter. Wally wondered if one of those monsters had grabbed his foot the night before.
Wally gave direction, but as Clayburn had found out, he was not adverse to doing some hard work himself, especially considering the Factory was his primary responsibility. Today he was one of the mud people, his white coat had become covered in whatever grossness the Factory could offer and had been tossed aside. His hard hat lost when he jumped in the pond, his hair was a slicked back mess of mud and other unmentionable things. Wally shoveled piles of dead eels or used a large push broom to remove other piles of debris that had washed up. The drains ran with off-color swirls of rainbow tinted product. So much had been lost and wasted. He had to stop production for the day, all of it. He had no choice. Nothing had been spared. And for every swirl of color, every stack of ruined product in boxes, every machine that had been found to have eels nesting in it, Wally felt that internal abacus keep ticking away on the Factories finances.
They were in the red, bad. Between the Doozy, new hires, and this mess, he was spending money this place just didn't have. Wally shoveled another load into a wheelbarrow and then picked up the business end and started heading for the nearest dumpster. Fuck, even hiring a disposal company to come and take care of all the debris was going to be expensive. Wally pushed the wheelbarrow toward the dumpster outside and passed by the remains of the crane. He set the wheelbarrow down and went to examine the crane. They had found the pieces of QC's hard hat and Wally asked that they be placed in his office. It had been cracked in half, but the hat had cracked and Canary's head did not. She was still out cold, but the damage could have so, so, so much worse. QC was still in the nurses office. Their new nurse had arrived when the day broke and was up to her eyeballs in workers that needed some kind of care. She was a rather young-seeming monster with swept back horns and lavender hair tied up in a bun. Frank had said she was military, then part of a volunteer force. She didn't offer her name, but just asked to be called Nurse. When she saw QC in the bed she didn't ask questions and got right to business.
Wally stood before the offending piece of machinery. Any blood that may have been on it washed away the night before. Now there was only mud with vague hints of color layered within it. He stared at the support leg for the crane. It was still bent, still a mess. Wally remembered the night before. It didn't buckle, it had folded around something. Like some kind of giant had kicked it. There was no possible explanation of why the support leg would have bent just so. No rust, no stress fractures, no history of repairs...no fucking reason a rectangular tube re-enforced inside and outside would suddenly develop an elbow. For the life of him and all the little things he had picked up over the years, the bit of damage looked deliberate. Deliberate and well placed. It could have given at any time, so why with QC?
Accidents are accidents. Shit happens all the time.
Except it didn't feel like an accident. QC was the most careful person in here. If there was a problem she was usually three steps ahead of it. This was too deliberate, the timing too convenient. Wally stepped away from the crane and returned to the wheelbarrow, then resumed his trip to the dumpster. On his return trip he saw a group of workers surrounding a large eel that was still twitching. Wally went to join them to see what the fuss was about and then had an idea to solve one problem. He got on the radio and made a few calls. A few moments later some of the crews from Live Hang were rounding up the still living eels, and putting them in the return cages to go back to Living Island Farms. If Mr N-Stuf could send them surprises, then Wally would just send some surprises right back.
They cleaned through the day and into the night, and from working with everyone, Wally learned that there were two main types of workers that were in the Factory. In his mind he sorted them between "part time" and "full time." Part timers could leave at the end of their workday. They were free to travel to and from their homes during the work week. It seemed the Rainbow Factory wasn't quite the pitcher plant he thought it was. The Part Timers were valuable in that they could leave. They could get things from the outside worlds and bring them back to keep the place and its occupants running smoothly. Frank was a Part Timer. He could go between the Factory and the neighborhood. Frank also served as a way to process more fodder into the Factory. QC, Wally, and several others were Full Timers. They could not leave the Factory. If anything they were considered essential personnel to keep the place running. Any attempt to break away was met with frustration. Part of the ship, part of the crew.
Wally had gotten a phone call from Frank saying that he was running late. Wally responded that there wasn't any processing going on until the place had been scrubbed from top to bottom anyway. Wally was tired and hungry, and really wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a long sleep. But he had to stay. He had to make sure the place was squeaky clean so they could pick up processing as soon as possible. He had been in the middle of mopping a hall floor when both Bronson and Clayburn approached him, took the mop from his hands and shoved him through a door that led to the upstairs hall outside his office. Wally took the not so subtle hint that it was time for him to stop. The Factory had decided that his work was done. The hall and his office were clean and no trace of eels or that fishy smell remained. He grabbed a set of clean clothes from his overnight bag, then made his way to the showers.
The shower room smelled like cleaning chemicals, and Wally tried to push the thought from his mind that only hours before the whole floor had been crawling with eels. For now it was a temple devoted to the practice of self-sanitation. He was too tired to ruminate, and that had been part of the point of working the way he had all day. As the hot water washed away all the mud and grime from the day, his thoughts roamed to QC again. She was the only one that had gotten seriously injured. There were a few other twisted ankles and sprains, but thankfully Wally had ordered the Factory be evacuated before anyone suffered worse. Why just QC? Who had it out for Canary? She still hadn't woken up. That was bad. He hadn't yet visited her, but planned to when he finished showering.
After he was cleaned up and half dressed, Wally stood before a mirror and reached for his toothbrush that was sitting on "his" sink. He thought of this place as "his" bathroom since there was no one else to share the management floor yet. He just wanted some space no matter how trivial to call his own. Maybe he could go by the cafeteria when he was done visiting and getting information on QC and grab some food. In addition to normal amount of work, there was now all of this. Was QC right? Had this Factory taken on a kind of sentience since he came on board? Is that why it seemed like it was a targeted attack? He put the toothbrush in his mouth and bit down on it, not moving, lost in thought. Okay, so say for a moment that it was coming to life. It wasn't like Home. Home had been playful and a prankster, but it wasn't malevolent. Home was also dead. He had killed them.
Didn't he?
Wally leaned forward and rested his palms on the sink, letting his head hang down. Home wanted to be free, Home wanted to speak and interact more than just banging doors and rattling windows. Wally missed Home. He knew he lit the match, but he knew it in the same way that he knew he had carried QC to the nurses office. There was no one else present that could have. Others had seen him accomplish these feats even if he didn't remember himself. He missed Home. He still had the same questions in his mind as he did back then. Wally lifted his head and caught a glance at his reflection in the mirror, tired red eyes, his hair drying into curls he would deal with tomorrow. Where was he going to go from here? If the Factory itself had gained sentience, then what was he going to do?
Wally turned to reach for the tube of toothpaste, but his reflection remained staring straight ahead.
"What you do, depends entirely on you."
Wally froze and slowly looked back at the mirror. It was still his reflection from a moment ago, albeit slightly changed. Solid red eyes and the beginning of black tears looked back at him. Wally shouted and stumbled backward, stopping only when he hit the wall. His reflection was normal now. Wally threw the toothbrush in the sink. "Fuck this. Fuck all of this. I am not…this...today." He pulled on a shirt, a pair of slippers, and opened a door into the main hallway.
He didn't care that he looked like he just got out of the shower, he fucking lived here now and if he wanted to walk the plant in bunny slippers to outrun the horrors of his psyche, then that was his business alone. Wally ordered food, from the cafeteria, a lot of it, and then left the cafeteria to visit the nurses office. QC was in the same bed he had left her in, cleaned up now and with her wounds bandaged. Without thinking he reached out and took her hand and gave it a light squeeze, then let go. He made sure the blankets were covering her well enough, then placed an apple on her side table (just in case she woke up hungry) and left the nurses office.
In the hall he encountered Frank just coming in. Franks frown seemed to deepen when he beheld Wally wearing sweatpants, a band t-shirt and bunny slippers. "Mr Walden?"
"Its been a long day," Wally said softly, his voice rough from lack of water and rest.
"Can I borrow a moment of your time...Wally?"
"Sure." Wally shrugged and followed Frank into the office.
Frank had a bag with him that he then took a familiar wooden box from. It was a folding chessboard. "I'm sorry I'm late coming in. I had let Julie borrow my chess set and she lost or repurposed most of the pieces. I was late trying to find them all."
"You were late because you couldn't find all the parts to your game? Frank its been a really difficult day, I am not in the mood for any more bullshit."
Frank went about calmly setting up the chessboard on an empty table, letting Wally rant. With all the pieces placed, Frank gestured to the board. "Your move."
"Frank, for fucks sake, you know I don't play chess, Home was the one you always-" Wally watched stunned as his left arm suddenly lifted on its own, gently picked up a pawn and moved it two squares forward.
Frank nodded with a smug grin then took and shook Wally's left hand. "Welcome, Home."
