“This one is useless. Get rid of it.”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s a simple task.”
“But it’s not useless. It’s fine.”
She looked at him. “Don’t you see the defects? Do you realize what it would cost to fix it?”
He paused. “It’s still worth it.”
“Listen,” she said. “We’re a business. It’s all about profits. It takes more money to correct all the defects than to simply start over with another one.”
“But they sell for a lot. You’d still make a profit if you fixed it.”
“Not as big a profit. You have to remember that as of a month ago we have competition. We can’t operate that way.”
He looked at it. “I still think it’s worth it. And you don’t have to tell anyone; just have the scientists fix it.”
She laughed. “You’re so old-fashioned! Don’t you realize the law doesn’t protect it until five years after production? It has no legal status until then. Right now it’s just the property of the company, and it’s a liability.”
He didn’t answer.
“Listen,” she said. “I understand what’s holding you back. When I started working here, I had to get used to it too. It feels funny, but you’ll be over it soon.”
He was quiet. “Can you have someone else do it?”
“I’m sorry; I can’t. You’re new to the company, so you don’t have a say in what you do. There were many other applicants for your position, so you should be thankful you got it. Just do your job, and don’t be sentimental. And don’t worry about it. It’s over pretty quick.”
He inhaled deeply. “Okay. . . . I’ll do it.”
She gave him a long, thin object. His hand shook as he put the product out of commission.
Written by Nicolas Allen
allennc@mail.masters.edu
The SciFi Spire 