DR. POLINGYOUMA'S MACHINE
Si más gente fuera responsable e hiciera su trabajo a conciencia, mejor serian las cosas en este mundo. Y tal vez hasta en otros, quien sabe.
First lines: Dr. Polingyouma’s machine is still running, that’s what they tell me. Just what that machine does depends on whom you ask. And they’ve made it pretty clear that I’m not being paid to ask questions. Since I’m being paid so well, I don’t push it.
The well paid job, every 24-28 days, is janitorial. And Harris does it with her best of abilities, because among other things best left alone, her life is at stake.
You sort of don’t expect that the tangible evidence of the overlap of worlds would be piles of crap and pools of blood and urine. At least, you wouldn’t expect that if you weren’t a janitor—or maybe a biologist. I wasn’t the least bit surprised. After all, the bathroom was still a major part of the overlap, and I don’t think that was an accident.-------
A mysterious machine ongoing, an experiment going bad, an alien corridor with horrors awaiting in the fringe, death motivation to mop after others . . . ah well ... and interesting story where a worker who did her job wins against bad bosses.
"You will never find their bodies,” it hissed.
I gripped the handle of my mop. “I know.”“You—” Somehow, from its inflection, I could tell it wasn’t just referring to me. It meant all of us—our race. “You are stupid cattle.”
“No. I am a sanitation expert. This hall will be clean. A high level of excellence must be maintained.”“You are the only one who cares,” it said, almost plaintively. “The only one.”
It could be read here
Historia corta en el ambito de la ciencia ficcion, donde un trabajo presenta riesgos increibles, incomprendidos por algunos, y donde se juega con más de una cosa a la vez.