Ray Sullivan SciFi Zone: Project: Evil – The Site Survey Meeting part 2

Project: Evil – The Site Survey Meeting part 2

‘That sounds sensible,’ said O’Feld, adding, ‘have we enough food to feed him, us, the henchmen and the uninhabitants?’ he asked. Brian pulled a face.

‘There’s a problem there. It looks like one of our estimates was completely wrong. From what we’ve seen today, this is the most densely populated uninhabited island we’ve ever used. There’s more uninhabitants here than on Barry Island,’ he said. The Head of Facilities chipped in.

‘That’s not fair; Barry Island’s surrounded by water,’ he noted, incorrrectly. Brian wasn’t going to be drawn into a discussion comparing a technologically challenged, uneducated primitive society with the South Sea uninhabitants. He had bigger problems, plus he had relatives on Barry Island and it would shock them to find out they weren’t actually living on an island.

‘It’s thrown my project plan completely; I had the four kebab people down for a security detail, now they’re going to have to leave the facility undefended. You’ve got five thousand vulnerable hench-persons sat around, armed to the teeth and entirely defenseless. Unless I can get those four back on patrol, we could lose half of our people,’ he ranted. O’Feld shrugged, he wasn’t scared; you had to assume a bit of attrition in these projects. Anyway, after Froshdu, the only person who truly scared him was Lurch, nobody wanted to get on the wrong side of him.

‘How soon before we start digging the ground to build Lurch’s dungeon?’ he asked. Brian weighed the question carefully.

‘Pretty much as soon as we finish this meeting, should take about a day to complete that phase,’ he said, running his finger along the relevant line on the Gantt chart, the straight one immediately before the squiggly one he drew when drunk at the Christmas party that now decided the construction order and the one next to a line that looked like Mickey Mouse humping Minnie that described the launch sequence.

‘So, how long before we can assemble the mission control?’ asked Daw, struggling to concentrate now he knew kebabs were on the agenda. He could murder a kebab. Brian squirmed a little at this one.

‘Well as you know, we awarded the contract for prefabricated units to the lowest bidder,’ he said.

‘Who we never paid,’ noted O’Feld, proudly.

‘In line with company policy,’ pointed out Daw.

‘And a good job too,’ said the Head of Finance, pointing to a line of red numbers on his underpants, which he’d taken off during the meeting as he knew he’d be expected to report on the budget at some time, given that the project was stony broke and the underpants were nylon, which was causing him massive discomfort in this heat. He felt surprised as busting the budget had never bothered him before. Brian continued.

‘Well, Ikea got the contract and we’ve been unpacking the modules all afternoon. We haven’t a clue what the instructions are telling us and would you believe it, we only have two screwdrivers on the island? There should have been at least one in each pack! Also, and we’re not one hundred percent sure about this, but we think we’re missing a couple of panels. It looks like the Papier-mâché volcano may have two left sides and we seem to have a surplus of pointless underwater approaches. I could be over-reacting, but the project could be screwed on day one,’ he said, nervously watching his boss. O’Feld threw his pen onto the table in disgust.

‘I’ve just remembered, I promised my doctor I’d lay off kebabs for a couple of weeks,’ he said. ‘Hopefully you won’t get the communications working for some time, so he can’t ask me searching questions when I Skype,’ he said, adding, ‘and I don’t think that works either.’ O’Feld stood, drawing the meeting to a close. ‘Brian, get those kebabs online as soon as possible and send a techie around to my tent to look at my TV aerial, reception seems pretty poor around here,’ he said, storming into the jungle.

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