'There are only two guards overnight on Tuesday . . .' Karl started to say.
'Karl, I made up the schedule. I am the chief of security. You work for me. You don't need to explain the rules, I made them. You and Albrecht were here alone until the morning shift arrived. Now. No more excuses. What happened?' Chelsea said angrily.
'At six o'clock this morning, the morning shift had not yet arrived. Albrecht was being slow getting around the school, and had not yet returned. I was waiting in the reference area. I saw through the window a man walking down from the football field toward the school. You know how many people are upset that the library closes on Tuesday, and I thought that if the library was late opening, this man might be angry, so I went out and opened the door. He must have seen me open the door because he smiled. Then I went back to the security office to find Albrecht or someone to work the front security desk.'
'So, you saw a total stranger outside, you didn't investigate him, you didn't check to see if he had a dangerous bag, you unlocked the door, and then you left the front of the library with no one guarding?'
Karl started to wave his hands and opened his mouth as though he was going to say something.
Chelsea interrupted. 'Never mind. I don't care what possible excuse you have. Guards are supposed to
Karl began to speak. Chelsea held up a hand, and Albrecht and two other guards closed in next to him. He shrugged, removed his badge and the leather Sam Browne belt that was the guard's uniform and handed them to Albrecht.
'You have five minutes to clean out your locker. I want you off the school grounds in no more than ten. Don't bother asking for a reference. Johann, Ester, you go with him and see him off the grounds.' Chelsea stood, staring until Karl was gone from the room.
'I am
****
Reverend Simon Jones was waiting at the coffee shop when Clarence Dobbs and a man Simon didn't recognize came in. The shop was open, and many people were looking at the espresso machine from a distance. Not only was Cora a member of his congregation at the Methodist church, but Simon was an accomplished mechanic and wanted to see for himself what had gone wrong.
'Simon, I don't think you've met Jonas Klein. Jonas works on our water heaters and worked on the espresso machine,' Clarence said.
Simon shook Jonas' hand. 'Sorry to meet you under these circumstances, Herr Klein.'
'Yes, Pastor Jones. A sad day.'
'Shall we take a look?'
The three men went behind the counter. The floor had been mopped, but the failure was clear. The fitting where the steaming wand screwed into the espresso machine was empty. With a heavy sigh, Jonas reached into his tool box and they began the task of disassembling the machine.
****
Cora came into the shop just as the men were finishing cleaning up.
'Well?' she asked.
'How's Maria?' Simon asked. Everyone in the shop turned toward her.
'She's going to be okay. A scar, and a long time healing from the burns, but okay,' Cora replied. 'Now, what happened?'
'It's complicated, Cora,' Simon replied. 'I think we need to go through it with the Saint Philip group. Can you come to the meeting tomorrow evening?'
'What meeting? What do you mean it's complicated? What happened?' Cora asked.
'The meeting at the parish hall at Saint Mary's. The part you want will start about seven and you need to be there. We'll go over the accident with everyone and figure it out. It's the group that Father Nick organized to do accident reviews for anyone who will participate. That way we have everyone's thoughts and everyone's ideas and everyone learns from each other's mistakes. This is complicated, Cora, and you should come. Jonas and Clarence and I will be there, and we all will talk through what happened. It was an accident, but it was an accident that could have been prevented. You should come. Please?'
'All right,' Cora said. 'I'll be there. Seven at the parish hall. But I still don't know what happened. What
'The boiler's pressure cut off didn't. It could have been a lot worse. This was almost the best possible outcome,' Clarence said.
Cora looked from man to man. 'You're not asking me to come to this meeting just so that some excuse can be cooked up, are you?'
'No, Cora. It's important. Please?' Simon said.
'Okay, okay. Seven at the parish hall. Got it. Now, let me talk to my staff and see to my business.' With that, Cora turned away and went back to work.
****
Each Thursday, a diverse group would gather at St. Mary's for the meeting of the Society of Saint Philip of the Screwdriver. They came from every available faith. The group included engineers, but also included librarians, electricians, plumbers, bankers, lawyers, judges, gunsmiths, machinists, farmers, teachers, and clergy. What brought them together was an involvement with what could loosely be called 'complexity.'
The group was in some ways an outgrowth of John Grover's 'Murphy Reports' from the VOA and the early electronics oversight group. The direct inspiration came from the joint minds of John, Father Althanius Kircher and Father Nicholas Smithson. After reading the 'Wizard' novels of Christopher Stasheff, Father Kircher and Nick had been enamored of the Order of Saint Vidicon of the Cathode. While they had been forbidden by Father-now Cardinal-Larry Mazzare from organizing a group around the fictional saint, they used his symbol, a small pocket phillips screwdriver. Instead of Saint Vidicon, they instead chose as their patron a saint with a sense of humor, who himself spent many years attempting to prevent the works of Murphy's imp: Saint Philip Neri. The coincidence of the screwdriver was too good to pass up.
The group had grown casually. Its avowed purpose, to the extent it had one, was to reduce the inevitable cost that human error brought to any complex effort. If anyone asked, participants said that they weren't the Grantville Safety committee. They rejected that name and the responsibility. Still, the informal group quickly became the place to report and review accidents of all types. Industrial accidents, embezzlement, undetected frauds, losses to theft and waste, all were seen as manifestations of Murphy's imp, and all were subject to review and discussion by the group. They shared the thought that together they could reduce the butcher's bill that up-time knowledge would cost the world as the complexity of their civilization increased.
The group wasn't a confessional. Each case ended with one of two results. If they could propose a way to avoid similar incidents, someone wrote up a report and a checklist to help accomplish that. If not, they wrote a report asking for suggestions. One of the proposals in Nick's charter was that they begin distributing their reports more formally to libraries and centers of invention.
Someone had made a banner with an image of Saint Philip Neri. It was inspired by the image in the Catholic Encyclopedia but the saint was wearing half a beard, smiling broadly, holding a little yellow screwdriver, and standing with one foot crushing a green imp. Below the portrait was the legend: Holy Saint Philip, Protect us.
There were other banners. 'Never attribute to evil that which can be explained by the perversity of the universe.' 'Even tragedy provides an opportunity for humor.' 'There are no silver linings without clouds.' Another said 'TANSTAAFL,' with a line drawn through it and 'Free Beer' written below. Finally, there was a banner, half filled with a field of green imps. Each imp had a red-circled X drawn over it.
John Grover and Father Nicholas looked at the group clustered around the folding tables serving as bar and sideboard.
'Are you sure you are ready to do this, Nick?' John asked.
'Yes. I've been ready for months. It's not like all of them don't already know what's coming,' Nick said.
'Okay then. I'll see about herding the cats,' John said. '
Slowly the chatter lowered, the mugs and steins were refilled, and people found chairs around the room. John gestured to the chalkboard to one side which had a short list of names on it. 'Anyone forget to sign up?'
