Spilling Guts

Part 29 - The Ride Down

Milton punched the button for the ground floor. The journey between viewing deck and Watch Two left time for more questions.

"Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?" asked Milton.

Louis shrugged, a small weight had been lifted from his shoulders due to their session and settled at his brow until able to fly away, a worry banished. "I had a crazy dream last night?"

"Crazy is a relative term." It wouldn't be the first time Milton soothed a Watch Agent about disturbing dreams. Milton's previous session with Reese still entertained him when he thought about it. "About what?"

"Dancing alone," said Louis. The elevator reached the halfway mark to the ground. "Finding myself inside Will again, small. And then the Devil's Neckbrace, crawling to life like a spider."

"Devil's Neckbrace?" said Milton.

"Officially it's called the Grovic Device, but Watch Two calls it the Devil's Neckbrace," said Louis, mouth twisting at the bitter memory. "It was an invention confiscated a few years ago as part of a sting on human trafficking. Doctor Grovic originally made it as an alternative to chemical anesthesia."

Milton nodded, making a mental note to look up said case. It probably sat in one of the file boxes on his desk. "You were part of that case?"

A weight settled back down on Louis' shoulders, an ongoing burden he kept picking up. "The latter part, yeah."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. The two walked out and towards the entrance to the Patent Office. Milton took it slow; his hot pepper socks were fashionable, but a tad thin for his soles.

"I already know why that thing popped into my dreams," continued Louis. "I've been reading up on it for a separate case."

"I didn't think Cetz was assigning you or Will cases?"

"Self-assigned. I needed something to do other than patent paperwork." Louis glanced to the glass face of the building, people jogging by in the noon-day rush. "I still need to get lunch."

"Go ahead," said Milton, pausing his steps. "You did well today. Message me if you would like to talk again. Or knock. Knocking is very effective."

Louis waved and walked out of the building, joining the throng. Perhaps feeling a little better, Milton hoped.

Milton passed through Watch Two security, badge out, body scanned multiple times, and then walked down the corridor towards the Watch. The soles of his feet ached. Either Milton needed to become acclimated to walking without shoes, or he had to invest in a set of custom sock-orthotics.

Or he could remember to put his shoes back on before leaving the office.

He passed Main Tech... meandering. Meandering was a better word for "exploring while lost". He knew his office was up the flight of stairs to the overhang. However he wanted to feel out the rest of the Watch. Agents Will and Louis were the original purpose for his position, but they needn't be the only ones he could tend. Perhaps, like Louis, he was also looking for an self-appointed project rather than the profiling paperwork at his desk.

Deeper down a hallway, close to the retrieval labs, he passed Comp Tech, or the Hive as it was called. The chamber was brightly lit, from overhead lights and various oversized screens. The air buzzed with processors, computer keys clacking like mandibles as the crew of the Hive scanned, researched, net-dived, surfed (Milton wasn't up to speed on the proper terms) the internet and databases for various tidbits of information pertinent to the Watch.

Near the entrance of the Hive was the office belonging to Grant, Head of Comp Tech. Milton wondered if anyone ever called him Queen Bee of the Hive. But Grant didn't look like a queen, he looked like a corpse; laid out on a cot, snoring, a pale green stain on his lips.

Most likely a sugar crash, thought Milton.

A few of the Hive had left tiny offerings at the doorway; origami unicorns, slushie cups, fake tea lights, incense, and prayer beads.

Perhaps he would appreciate a fun pair of socks as an offering, wondered Milton, meandering back into the open part of Main Tech. He followed his nose towards the smell of coffee that indicated the break room. His sense of direction worked as well as a compass next to a magnet factory, but the nose always knew. Next to the break room was the nook that housed the vending machines.

Milton fumbled around his pocket for a quarters. Watch One's vending machines worked off their staff's assigned keycards; swipe and snack. At Watch Two, one had to feel the coins they were about to give away and contemplate the best choice for their money.

Milton chose a bag of extra spicy chips, something to go with his sandwich. He had plenty of sugar at his desk, as long as he didn't put all of his candy stash in the candy dish for Beni and Reese to swipe.

Up the stairs, he remembered that. And to the... left? Left. Let's try left.

Ahead he heard the echo of swearing from behind two swinging doors. Rachel's lab. Good. He was in the right place. Three doors down, across the hall....

Milton inched open the door to his own office, not even a squeak in the hinges. Will still lay asleep on the leather couch. The desk, and it's barrier of files and boxes, were untouched. Reading was quiet work and could be done while the couch's occupant slept.

Back to work.