Qubit's Incubator. Charley BrindleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
Blue Plate Special,” she said.
“How did you…” Catalina began. “Nevermind.”
“Do you have to give notice when you decide to quit?”
“It’s just a phone call. I don’t have to do anything like a two-week notice. Hugo can easily find someone to take my place.”
“You should probably make that call today.”
“All right.” She stood. “I better get busy.”
“Don’t forget those financials.”
Chapter Three
At 7:30 p.m., Catalina heated a cup of Ramen noodles.
“How you liking those noodles?” a slim Black guy asked as he took a glass bowl covered with aluminum foil from the fridge.
“Not bad,” Catalina said. “I like them because they’re quick and easy.”
The microwave dinged, and she took out her steaming mug, while holding the door open for him. “Your turn, Drover.”
He wrinkled his brow. “You know me?”
“Yes, and also your name is on the tin foil.”
He laughed. “Call me ‘Alex.’” After removing the foil, he placed his bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy in the microwave.
“I’m Catalina Saylor.”
“Really? Catalina is an island. How you spelling that last name?”
She spelled it.
“Cool play on words by your parents. An island and a sailor.”
“Yeah, they were pretty cool.”
He glanced at her but didn’t ask about the word ‘were.’ “Whatcha working on?”
“Converting echolocation sound waves to tactile impressions.”
“Holy crap.”
“I know, and I have only twenty-nine days left to prove the concept. How about you?”
“I’m working on flexible solar cells,” Alex said.
She sipped from her cup of noodles. “How flexible?”
“Like a cloth that could be made into clothing.”
“Nice. I could take a walk in the sunshine and charge my dead phone at the same time.”
“And your boyfriend’s phone, too.”
“Screw him,” she said. “He can get his own charger.”
“Ouch, harsh. What he do to you that’s so bad?”
“He dumped me. I’ve got to get back to it.”
“Yeah, me, too. I got seven days till I drop dead.”
“You’ll make it,” she said.
The microwave dinged. “Later.”
At the edge of the bullpen she noticed a large chalkboard on the wall next to a projection screen. It had a list of names, dates and information. Across the top was ‘Patents Granted.’
The first one was Wayne Ponicar, Therapeutic Water Body.
Next was Dwight Calister, Stair Climbing Wheelchair.
Followed by several more names and their inventions.
When she walked back through the bullpen, she saw nine people still working.
As she ate at her desk, she watched a YouTube video of a prosthetic hand. She turned off the sound so she wouldn’t get yelled at.
Halfway through her noodles, she began coding a new program.
When she leaned back to stretch her arms over her head, she realized it was after midnight. Swiveling around in her squeaky chair, she saw all the pissant desks were vacant. Through the doorway into one of the cubicles, she saw a guy working at his computer.
Drone dick McGill. Why are you still here?
She shrugged and turned back to gaze at her brick wall. After a moment, she stood, shoved her chair out of the way, then pulled the desk away from the wall.
She noticed McGill scowl at her when the screeching of the desk on the concrete floor caught his attention. She ignored him.
In front of her desk, she stared at the bricks for a moment, then opened her box of colored chalk.
Around 1 a.m., Catalina heard McGill make a lot of noise at his desk, apparently preparing to go home.
I guess he wants me to know he’s leaving. Good riddance to an ugly annoyance.
She didn’t turn to give him the satisfaction of knowing how irksome she thought he was.
It was after 4 a.m. when she went out through the side door, then checked to be sure it locked behind her.
Catalina got almost three hours of sleep, then rode her moped back to the Incubator.
With a cup of coffee and cream-filled donut from a Krispy Kreme box left over from the day before, she was back at her coding.
At 9:30, Joe came to her desk.
“You’re drawing something on your wall,” Joe said.
Catalina looked at it for a moment. “Yeah, I started on it last night.”
“What’s it going to be?”
“Not sure yet. What’s your project?”
“Telephoto glasses.”
“Really?” She was quiet for a moment. “How do you control them?”
“It’ll be a heads-up display on the inside surface of the glasses. Eye movement will turn it on and off, and operate the amount of zoom.”
“I would love to have a pair of those,” she said. “I could be on a road trip and zoom in on a mountain range in the distance without ever taking my hands from the wheel.”
“Exactly.”
“Cool idea.”
“Thanks,” Joe said.
“Who’s that redhead?”
“Victor’s assistant, Tracy.”
“She’s not very friendly.”
“All business,” Joe said. “Well, back to work.”
In the outer office, Tracy pulled open her desk drawer. She picked up a dangly earring with an oval jade stone encircled in gold and slipped it through the hole in her left earlobe. When she looked for the second one, it wasn’t there. She shoved aside pencils and paperclips but couldn’t find it.
“What the hell?” she whispered as she opened another drawer.
At 3 in the afternoon, two workers wheeled a large crate up to the side of Catalina’s desk. Without a word, they opened the box and removed bubblewrap.
Catalina grinned. The 3-D printer!
Tracy came to watch the men work.
They soon had the machine setup and plugged into Catalina’s surge protector.
One of the men turned it on and ran some diagnostics, while the other man cleaned up the packing material.
Apparently satisfied all was in order, the guy handed a clipboard to Tracy. “Your signature, please.”
Tracy signed the form, then traded the clipboard for a thick manual.
The two men took the crate and packing material and left the building.
Several people in the bullpen stared at Catalina, Tracy, and the new printer.
After Tracy gave the manual to Catalina and started for the outside office, one of the pissants asked, “Why does she get a Three-D printer?”
“Beats