Blind.Faith 2.0.50. Tomasz Tatum

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СКАЧАТЬ corporation. As em.Dee1, he obviously had a well-functioning team in place; he knew that he could rely on them to get the job done on cost, on time, every time. For this very simple reason, it was just as well that they did not speak often.

      And Barnz, the man at home behind the controls of CRΞΔTΩR 2.0.50, was not only trustworthy beyond any doubt, but also exceptionally gifted in his ability to explain things graphically to Fulcrum. His ability to clearly and concisely elucidate events, to explain people and processes, was so keen that it enabled Fulcrum to easily visualize what was meant and, secondly, keep him reliably informed of what was actually transpiring in the world all around him. As long as this was the case, Fulcrum felt reasonably confident and relaxed, able to simply concentrate on accomplishing the managerial aspects of his job. At the end of the day, that was all he needed to do to keep his boss content.

      After all, he rationalized about this in his own mind, Ludwig van Beethoven was hard of hearing. And that was apparently putting it mildly. In all actuality, he recalled learning as a child back in school that old Ludwig was just about as deaf as a doorknob. Nonetheless, the œuvre of music he composed was judged to this day to be nearly divine by many successive generations of music aficionados. Fulcrum wasn’t extremely and deeply savvy about the subject, but he did enjoy listening to a bit of classical music now and then–mostly a bit of Bach or Händel. In a wider sense then, he sometimes mused, Barnz might by extension be viewed as being the conductor at the podium in front of Fulcrum’s own construction site orchestra. As long as he and all of the other workers played their parts well, neither em.Dee1 nor anyone else was ever going to seriously question the competence of the composer.

      Barnz was a capable enough fellow, then. He was without question Fulton’s right hand man and he, too, somehow appeared to relish the responsibility that went with this role. Their friendship and their mutual professional life was a combination of unbelievably fortunate circumstances which Fulcrum appreciated fully.

      Fulcrum simply believed in Barnz.

      And although Fulcrum couldn’t see him at this moment yet, Barnz had already dismounted from the ladder leading to the cab of his bulldozer and stood carefully cleaning the lenses of his sunglasses with a small micro-fleece cloth.

      “Barnz! Where are you? Barnz, man! Have you got a moment? I need to talk to you about something!”

      “Yo. I’m over here!” came the calm reply from somewhere to Fulcrum’s left.

      Little did Fulcrum suspect that Barnz, too, was completely sightless behind the black shades which he wore night and day.

      Not long afterward, the two men were standing together, side by side, intently studying and discussing a few of the details of the plans which Fulcrum had unfolded after producing them from the old and worn attaché case that he habitually carried about with him. As Fulcrum stood beside Barnz, inwardly thankful for the chance to stand in the ample shadow of the big blue bulldozer, he pressed the oversize sheet of paper hard against the hot and somewhat grimy side of the machine with both hands. As the two men stood discussing the plans, and despite the overall commotion that still reigned elsewhere on the construction site, Fulcrum thought that he heard the unmistakable sound of someone approaching them.

      In truth, it would probably be more accurate to state that he seemed to sense it first.

      Without even having to turn his head, and despite the ongoing hustle and bustle of construction activity that raged around them, he quickly and correctly surmised that the footsteps he had heard belonged to someone completely unknown to him–in fact, he knew that they belonged to someone entirely foreign to this site. Judging by the ever so slight irregularities he could detect in the rhythm of the steps as they neared, it was either someone wearing entirely inappropriate footwear or else it was someone perhaps struggling with the unevenness of the ground as he or she pressed forward in their direction.

      Or both.

      As the steps neared and as he listened a bit closer, he decided that the person approaching them was probably fairly heavy and therefore very likely a man.

      Barnz took a step back from the bulldozer and furrowed his brow somewhat, slightly annoyed that they were about to be disturbed while still engrossed in the scrutiny of their plans. He was thinking his way through a few quick calculations when Fulcrum turned his head to face in the general direction that the sound of the footsteps appeared to be coming from.

      The very instant Fulcrum turned his head, though, the footsteps ceased. There was, of course, no real cause for this unknown visitor to know or to even suspect that Fulcrum was actually unable to see him on account of his horribly faltering eyesight.

      After Fulcrum turned his head and the footsteps had stopped, Barnz, too, halted his calculations and examination of the papers and turned somewhat, with a sigh that revealed only the slightest hint of impatience, to cast a cursory but equally sightless glance over his right shoulder in the direction of the stranger who had approached them, thereby interrupting their consultations.

      It would be insufficient to describe it as sightless, however, or even as a cursory glance. Despite the subjective shortcomings of his eyesight, Barnz in reality did not require paltry vision to see something that interested him. Put somewhat differently, Barnz’s full comprehension of circumstances around him was more than adequate to compensate for his lack of mere eyesight.

      A short, stocky and very muscular policeman was standing there among the dirt and the weeds, mustering the two of them with a steely gaze as they stood wondering about the reason behind the interruption of their conference alongside the bulldozer. He was dressed in a clean, freshly pressed dark blue uniform that Barnz diplomatically judged would have to had been at least a size too small for his fairly athletic stature. His feet were clad in black low quarter shoes so shiny that even someone as blind as Fulcrum could likely register their gleam. The officer said nothing at first. Instead, he was chewing loudly and obnoxiously on a huge wad of gum as he stood only a few meters distant from the bulldozer and the two men before it. He simply stood there, as mutely as a tree, observing Fulcrum and Barnz without offering any word of introduction, greeting or explanation. After a few more long seconds of awkwardly pointed silence, he began checking and adjusting the fit of a pair of cheap metal-rimmed, mirrored sunglasses that lent him a somewhat deranged look instead of the air of nonchalance he was quite obviously hoping to project.

      Barnz said not a word as he stood and waited. The policeman exercised his shoulders two or three times, flexing them back and forth, and then cocked his head a bit rearward. He peered down the length of his substantial tanned nose, peeking beneath the lower chrome rim of the sunglasses to get a good look at the two men opposite him.

      Two tiny but distinct bushels of black hair protruded from his nostrils. He had a headful of amply-greased black hair strategically combed to help conceal a spot at the top and rear of his skull where it was perhaps a bit thinner than this fellow likely deemed appropriate. His arms were liberally covered with the same dense black hair, giving him, superficially at least, the appearance of a uniformed gorilla.

      The officer wore no hat despite the scorching sun still blazing overhead. After much wordless ado and finally concluding that his glasses were no longer in need of any further adjustment, he planted his hands firmly on his waist. The fingertips of his left hand nearly touched his SlapStick as he loudly cleared his throat and introduced himself.

      “Ahrumm!” he half-growled and spit onto the ground next to him. “Good afternoon there, gentlemen. Sergeant PLΔcebo’s my name. L@EPD.”

      Fulcrum raised his barren brows until his forehead was covered with wrinkles and flashed a brief, annoyed look toward Barnz.

      “What now?” he mumbled under his breath. СКАЧАТЬ