Leave It

A cartridge on the Slopbox, signed by the Slopwright. A note on the workshop bench, in his hand: out; the boiler is making a noise; leave it. The apprentice does not. With a putty knife from the Slopwright’s desk, the apprentice goes under it to the drawers, down the corridor to the kitchenette and out the back to the loading bay, where the short door is the problem and the tin key turns up. The key opens the sardine tin on the bench, and in the sea inside there are wellies. A valve wheel is filed under V in the archive, up the stairs.

Then down, a floor at a time, the way the codex says the floors go: the larder, the vats, cold storage and the boiler room, where the boiler itself throws embers, builds up pressure and has to be shut down by hitting its valve while it vents. Every door, stair and lid in it is a way the codex already records. Like everything else here, it was made by a machine.