“This is completely unacceptable. It’s your fault. You need to pay closer attention.”

“Yes, sir.” She hung her head.

“Don’t just stand there. Make a notation on your chart. When it reboots, get back to work. Mess up again, and you’re finished.”

“Y-yes, sir.” She fought back tears. For once, she didn’t want to see Nora. She could imagine what her reaction would be.

Nora did her best to keep her expression neutral, even as her pulse pounded in her ears. They were woefully behind their target production levels. Alpha-1 was nowhere near coming back on line, and now the floor supervisor for Beta-2 was reporting to her about an operator error that cost several hours of downtime on Cubicle 853.

“What caused the problem?” Cubicle 853, she well knew, was assigned to Mary Elizabeth Trask.

“I’d say it was inattention, if you ask me. I think she was daydreaming.”

“What action did you take?” She kept her head down and pretended to examine the operator log in front of her.

“I let the operator know in no uncertain terms that inattention was unacceptable, that she cost us valuable operating time, and that if it happened again, there would be consequences.” He nodded, as if for emphasis.

“Very well, thank you.”

“Do you want me to take further action?”

He seemed only too eager to do just that. “No.” Nora waved him away. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

“But, ma’am…er…Dr. Lindstrom—”

“I said I’d take care of it, and I will.” She rose from behind the desk.

“Yes, sir. I mean, yes, ma’am. I mean, sure thing.”

“Thank you for bringing the matter to my attention.”

“Well, you said you wanted to know if there were any instances that delayed production, so…”

“You did the right thing. Thank you.” When he left, Nora slumped back into her chair. He was a new hire, and eager to make an impression. He’s also right, and you know it. She envisioned Mary sitting at her control board, her mind on their lovemaking last night. The tips of her ears turned red from embarrassment.

How could Mary jeopardize her job, Nora’s job, and the project in this way? It was unconscionable. Hadn’t she already warned her? Work was work. Nora couldn’t…no, wouldn’t…treat her any differently than any of the other cubicle operators.

She drummed her fingers on the desk. What would you do if it was anybody else? She remembered firing one of her girls a few weeks ago for a second, similar infraction. She hadn’t left it to the floor supervisor to do; she’d made an example of the girl, relieving her of her assignment in person.