“And you’re the last one on my list,” says the corporal as he drops a ream of paper on the desk and turns to exit. “It’ll be for the best if you can just sign off on this.”
“Wait, what is this?” calls Alma before he can make it to the door.
The corporal holds the door open long enough to say over his shoulder, “Budget justification. Shows what we used last year, and how much it’ll cost to replace it. I’m presenting tomorrow morning at 8. So.” The door closes behind him.
“‘Just sign off on it,’” Alma mutters mockingly. She flips through the pile of papers. A lot of tables — columns and rows full of equipment lists, project code names, jargon, numbers. A lot of tables. “I’m supposed to go over all of this?”
Hilda spares a glance at the stack. “Oh, nah, just find your department. That’s everybody’s budgets. All the different active project teams.” She glances out their office window into the cubicle farm. “I bet you anything he finished that twenty minutes ago and was just bringing it to all the QMs to have them sign off.”
“Isn’t anyone checking?”
“You kidding me? He obviously didn’t care enough to get it done in advance. Why’s anyone else gonna care?”
Alma looks doubtfully at the formidable ream. “The Senate is literally having hearings about defense contractors siphoning off money for secret projects. They’re going to be all over this.”
“Counterpoint,” says Hilda, pointing a finger at the documents, “by the time this gets public, we’ll already have admitted to being a legacy program with special access to anomalous materials; everything’s already spelled out for them. Anyone who looks at that stack of paper will believe everything in it. Besides.” She looks pointedly down at her computer. “It’s four forty-eight right now. I don’t have to tell you what I’d do.”
Alma looks up at her, uncomprehending, but only for a moment. “Just sign off on it.”
Hilda tilts her head in a direction that says “obviously.”
It’s 5:02 when Hilda leaves the office.
It’s 5:49 when Alma puts down the papers, satisfied that her list of sixty-three discrepancies between her equipment list and the budget justification is, if not complete, at least accurate.
It’s 5:53 when she calculates how much money that amounts to. She blinks a few times.
It’s 5:59 when she finishes double-checking her math. She blinks a few more times.
It’s 6:12 when she’s verified her findings with active inventory lists. She takes a few deep breaths and walks down a few flights of stairs to the depot, list tucked into her uniform pocket.
It’s 6:25 when the depot manager tells her, in confidence, that an entire patrol disappeared a few months back — gear and all — and nobody ever checked on it.
It’s 6:44 when Alma forges the colonel’s signature on a Knot use authorization form to carry out a routine inspection of delivery-side logistics equipment.
It’s 7:01 when she drives a Jeep through the Electric Knot and into the strange humid jungle on the other side.
Hello hello!
Here we are! It’s another episode of The Interstice! That means it must have been another week! Time flies when you persist in existence! And apparently it’s almost February!
If you enjoy these stories (the story, really, since it’s all one story), it would be super special awesome if you shared it with your friends and stuff! That’s all I’ve got. Thanks, as always, reader, for reading!
I’m almost out of exclamation points, so I’d better stop for now! See you next time!
:: Jaer!