Shortchanged

In honor of the master, Isaac Asimov.

It used to be a saying across most of the galaxy that if you were ever too poor to tip your waiter you could take a trip to the Belhausen-Lauffland coin factory and you’d be living large before your soup could go cold. Every criminal in every quadrant had Bellhausen on their auto-dial warp settings.

Of course Belhausen charged interest rates on their counterfeits that rivaled belief, and no one was exactly sure how many members of the Galactic Council were in their pockets, but the criminal class tends, by and large, to be willing to gamble, especially when ready money is at hand.

Interestingly enough, the people involved in the daily operation of this illegal counterfeit ring were not all particularly criminal people. Take, for example, Ernie Glockenshpickle, who had immigrated to Sector 998XY after losing his job as a bank teller in the 2008 recession on Earth. Ernie was dimly aware that the “high upper ups”, were crooked, but the pleasant humdrum of daily work had lulled him into the belief that anything truly nefarious couldn’t be this boring.

Every day he rode his electric scooter to the factory and clocked in at 9 AM. He left his lunch in the fridge, went to the control room for Earth Currency (he had been assigned it as he was the only Earthman on the planet) and turned the little dials to set the amount of Reals, Pesos, Dollars, Yen and Euros for the day. He filled out the paperwork detailing what was being manufactured. Then for the rest of his shift he checked Facebook in between his hourly supervision rounds to see that the machines were all working properly. He strolled along the corridors between the machines, sipping a cup of coffee. There was not much to do besides watch the coins and paper money swish through the fabricators and listen to the clatter of millions of coins falling into the sorting bins. He was supposed to be looking for problems, but there never were any.

Until there were. One normal Tuesday afternoon he was sauntering along, blowing steam off his cup of coffee, when he stopped. Something was missing. Some…key…element…he turned around and looked at the bales of paper money hissing along the tubes. Then he looked down at the coin tubes. They were empty.

Nothing was happening. There were no coins. Not a single penny.

Panicking, he ran to the control room and ran his hands over the buttons—everything was in order, everything was set properly. He went to the mechanical room. All the sensors on the fabricators said everything was working. Sweating, he began flipping dials, changing numbers—the tubes remained empty. White-faced, he called his superiors.

And that’s when he learned that his bosses really were crooks. In a few short hours, he found himself sweating in the CEO’s office. The CEO, a bald smiling man wearing a tweed suit, steepled his hands. “Don’t play with us, Glockenshpickle.” He said, “Where are you routing the coins? Bellhausen-Lauffland doesn’t put up with embezzling.”

Ernie was flabbergasted. They hadn’t even sent a mechanic round. “No, no, you don’t understand; the machines don’t work!” He said, “I couldn’t—I mean what would I even do with all those coins? Well, I mean…spend them, that’s what you do with—but I didn’t! I didn’t!”

The CEO rolled his eyes and Ernie felt a prickle of apprehension as two large men stepped out from the shadows of the office.

The CEO leaned closer, his voice lowering. “Now, Glockenshpickle. Tell the truth, or we’ll banish you from the planet.”

Ernie put up his hands. “I swear, sir, they just stopped! All the dials were set right, all the fabrication tanks were full—I checked everything! They should be doing exactly what they’re supposed to!”

“NOT GOOD ENOUGH!” The CEO roared, standing to his feet and thumping his fist on the desk. “You’re banished, Glockenshpickle! Forever!”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Ernie wailed as security grabbed him by the arms and began to drag him out of the office. “I don’t know what happened! It just doesn’t make any cents!”

I had to see if I could do one :)

Anyway, I have been having trouble getting notifications when someone comments on my stories. Please comment and tell me your favorite Asimov story (or you can just groan about the pun) so I can see if I fixed the problem!