mirror of
git://git.9front.org/plan9front/plan9front
synced 2025-01-12 11:10:06 +00:00
307 lines
9.8 KiB
Text
307 lines
9.8 KiB
Text
.LP
|
|
.ce
|
|
.ps 16
|
|
.CW
|
|
THE MOLDS
|
|
.R
|
|
|
|
.ps 8
|
|
.CW
|
|
tags: 1975, jonathan, plinth_mold, reginald
|
|
.R
|
|
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
The man from downstairs would appear every evening at 7:00 p.m.,
|
|
ready to collect the wax sculpts. He would take them down to the
|
|
manufacturing floor where they would be cast as
|
|
.I
|
|
first shot
|
|
.R
|
|
test
|
|
molds, and be then put through several short production runs. Gently,
|
|
the man would scoop up each figure and place it onto his tray. He
|
|
would then push his cart along to the next desk. This cycle iterated,
|
|
every evening of every season, without fail. By autumn, the company's
|
|
lead design team would complete a fresh collection of figurines.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Jonathan's team had never failed the company.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Motioning to the man with the cart, then towards an array of
|
|
already assembled parts that were spread out on the table before him,
|
|
Jonathan presented the work that had most recently occupied his
|
|
attention. The wheels of the man's cart emitted a cantankerous noise
|
|
and shortly began to roll again, this time in the direction of
|
|
Jonathan's work area.
|
|
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
From out of nowhere, Plinth Mold tramped into the room. He shook
|
|
the dust from his boots, shouldered past the man with the cart, and
|
|
locked his one good eye, somehow simultaneously, onto both men at
|
|
once. Plinth held onto this intimate, personal contact for as long as
|
|
he possibly could before proceeding to the next phase of the
|
|
interaction.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Jonathan batted a curtain of dirty hair from his face and began to
|
|
scratch his yellow beard. There was no use trying to stop the boss
|
|
now.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Plinth removed his eye patch, revealing the smooth, concave surface
|
|
where an eye socket should have been situated, had Plinth been born of
|
|
a mere human woman. Squinting, he proceeded to inspect Jonathan's most
|
|
recent achievements. The first sculpt seemed to captivate, singularly,
|
|
and he hoisted it up into the light, the better to examine its
|
|
particulars. His weight shifted forward and his mouth produced a
|
|
vaguely appreciative grunt. His one good eye rapidly alternated its
|
|
focus for several seconds, comparing his favorite figure to the other
|
|
wax artworks arranged haphazardly across Jonathan's table. It was
|
|
clear from these physical perturbations that, in Plinth's opinion,
|
|
none of the other figures measured up to the one he held clenched in
|
|
his leather\-gloved hand.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Suddenly sweeping away his velvet knapsack, Plinth winked at
|
|
Jonathan and pulled the drawstring closed.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"Our style of working will seem less threatening, in retrospect,"
|
|
he remarked.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"Who's threatened?" Jonathan tended to humor the aging businessman
|
|
his eccentricities, but he sensed that he was being mocked.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Plinth (indicating the sculpt that had captured his interest): "I
|
|
shall require more figures in this vein. Yes. Similar, I think, if not
|
|
identical, to this one."
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Jonathan: "But I've completed a whole
|
|
.I
|
|
series
|
|
.R
|
|
of designs. Here,
|
|
just take a look at these other models\(em"
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"I will require only the Asiatics," insisted Plinth, expertly
|
|
maneuvering past Jonathan's pointlessly extended hand.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"You aim to pick and choose between the Lord's handiwork?" demanded
|
|
Jonathan, a surprising wave of anger suddenly breaching the surface of
|
|
his pink face.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
.I
|
|
"A man must content himself with the time that he has been
|
|
allotted,"
|
|
.R
|
|
quoted Plinth,
|
|
.I
|
|
"...and so divide his attentions accordingly."
|
|
.R
|
|
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Plinth paused, waiting for Jonathan's mind to catch up with his
|
|
ears.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"It should also be pointed out that you have come perilously close
|
|
to conflating
|
|
.I
|
|
yourself
|
|
.R
|
|
with the Lord our God. A most unusual lapse,
|
|
for a young man of your background."
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
This led to silence. Plinth knew quite well which switches he was
|
|
throwing within the young lad's mind.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Jonathan considered himself to be the reincarnation of a famous
|
|
Green religious leader, highly revered by the people of his home
|
|
country. This quirk had been jealously concealed by Jonathan's family,
|
|
as wide dissemination of his delusions was likely to result in
|
|
ridicule, or, even worse, excommunication from the country's dominant
|
|
religious order. Since no one believed his claims, there could be no
|
|
defense.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
As time continued to elapse, Plinth wondered if perhaps he had
|
|
flipped Jonathan's switches with an excess of vigor.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Eventually, the young man let out his breath. Plinth winced visibly
|
|
as Jonathan opened his mouth and slowly began to speak.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"I suppose you are better qualified to discern the relative,
|
|
mundane qualities of my work than I can ever hope to be," Jonathan
|
|
said easily, his ears slowly fading from red to pink. "I do not
|
|
begrudge you your preferences. They are the very basis of our
|
|
relationship, after all. Please, take what you will."
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
With this, Plinth relaxed and settled back into his shoes. He could
|
|
see now that Jonathan had regained conscious control of his limbs, and
|
|
so, in this more equanimous humor, would not attempt to strike him
|
|
with any of the tools laid out on his workbench. Plinth hastened to
|
|
remind himself that there was never a guaranteed outcome when one
|
|
ventured to upset the Divine equilibrium of the religiously inclined.
|
|
He was only glad that he had not come to terminate the boy's
|
|
employment.
|
|
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Behind Plinth's back, situated at the base of a far wall, a
|
|
half\-sized door rose up from the floor. Presently, it opened, and a
|
|
half\-sized man crossed over its threshold into the open air of
|
|
Jonathan's workshop. Plinth had not come equipped to deal with
|
|
multiple assailants, and so he spun around quite awkwardly to confront
|
|
this lately arriving interloper.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Somewhat unexpectedly, Plinth's plastic cloak had gathered itself
|
|
around his ankles, on the floor, and he nearly tripped over it as he
|
|
assumed the appropriate defensive posture.
|
|
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
The man in the closet had declined to join Plinth and Jonathan in
|
|
the lounge. He claimed not to have been aware of Plinth's arrival in
|
|
the workshop, which seemed ordinary enough on its face, but no sane
|
|
man (in Plinth's estimation) refused a free drink and a chance to gnaw
|
|
the ear of his employer. He would know the reason behind this man's
|
|
stubborn abstinence. He demanded that the fellow explain himself, and
|
|
fixed his posture to wait for an answer. The half\-sized man had
|
|
prepared no rebuttal, and so finally he agreed to break from his
|
|
chores, to drink with his employer, to act like a human being. In
|
|
spite of this surrender, Plinth observed that a measure of wariness
|
|
still showed plainly on his face.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"I have busied myself in that closet, without emerging, for a
|
|
handful of months, and would continue in my toil without complaint if
|
|
you could but leave me alone to get on with my work," lamented the
|
|
half\-sized man.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"Is it
|
|
.I
|
|
comfortable
|
|
.R
|
|
in that closet?" Plinth asked. His genuine
|
|
curiosity was evident to all who were present at the table.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"I have to admit that it's not. But my closet is still serviced by
|
|
the building's pneumatic tube system, through which I am able to
|
|
procure my materials."
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"May I ask then why it is you are willing to tolerate such working
|
|
conditions?"
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Plinth knew that he was traversing the boundaries of etiquette. Had
|
|
he opened himself to recriminations? The half\-sized man matched his
|
|
tone.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"Oh, and I suppose you find every aspect of
|
|
.I
|
|
your
|
|
.R
|
|
job to be ideal?
|
|
I work from the time I wake up, straight through to the time when I
|
|
fall asleep. What could be the purpose of maintaining separate
|
|
quarters? There's nothing about where I sleep in my orders."
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"I don't mean to rhyme..." he added.
|
|
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Jonathan was again fumbling with the bristles of his beard, eyes
|
|
focused upon some distant apocalypse. Reginald (for that, Plinth had
|
|
learned, was the half\-sized man's name) had performed the series of
|
|
keypad exertions necessary to extend his rolling platform to roughly
|
|
chair height, and so he began the process of conveying his legless
|
|
body into the booth alongside his companions. For his part, Plinth was
|
|
generous enough not to remark upon Reginald's ornate personal mobility
|
|
carrier. Though gape at it he did.
|
|
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
.I
|
|
"What?"
|
|
.R
|
|
demanded Reginald.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"I take it you are the man who operates the molds," whispered
|
|
Plinth, eyes fairly glazing over as he avoided focusing on
|
|
Reginald's... stroller.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"The man who designed them. Now operates them. No one else seems to
|
|
be able to get the hang of the interface."
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Here Jonathan interjected, reciting the well\-worn narrative. "The
|
|
backups of Reginald's original designs for the molds were lost in a
|
|
catastrophic fire that cleaned out the department's central data
|
|
center back in '71."
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"The company opted to rescue what was left of my code instead of
|
|
what was left of my legs. And how did that work out for them?"
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"Reginald was caught in the fire," Jonathan explained.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"Falling machinery bisected me. Cut me into hemispheres. With the
|
|
loss of my
|
|
.I
|
|
templates,
|
|
.R
|
|
I've no way of growing a new
|
|
.I
|
|
interface.
|
|
.R
|
|
None
|
|
of the department's people have ever been able to figure out how to
|
|
run the things without me."
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"But we get by," Jonathan insisted, realizing that Reginald was
|
|
making him sound useless.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"Yes, recognizing that losing me meant throwing off their budget,
|
|
the department chipped in on this mobility rig, and built a special
|
|
room for me here so that I might be close enough to the molds to lend
|
|
my expertise when complex adjustments were required. Eventually, I
|
|
just made the space over into an office. The molds are too expensive
|
|
to replace, so this is the state of affairs until we discover how to
|
|
map the controls onto other users' minds."
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"I had no idea," said Plinth, now sincerely embarrassed.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
Reginald inclined his head toward Jonathan and took another sip of
|
|
his water.
|
|
.PP
|
|
.ps 10
|
|
"I tell the kid here it's all God's fault."
|