Free The Glitch in Sleep by John Hulme Page A

location on the map. “But it could be anywhere by now.”
    “We need to pick up the scent.” Becker checked his Time Piece™, then turned to his Briefer. “Recommendation?”
    Simly thought it over, then produced several items from his Briefcase.
    “Well, you could use a Vindwoturelukinvor™ but those can be flaky at night. A Wharizit . . . oh, wait! I have the perfect thing.”
    He whipped out a busted-up old Tool. It was caked with dirt and looked like it hadn’t been used in years.
    “What kind of contraption is that?” asked the Foreman.
    “It’s a Glitchometer™!”
    Glitchometers had been all the rage in the days before Clean Sweep, but they had been discontinued due to serious design flaws and now were mostly collectibles or sold at antique Tool fairs.
    “Where on earth did you get it?” asked Becker, impressed.
    “I didn’t get it on earth! I got it from my grandfather’s Toolkit. He’s got all kinds of wacky junk.” Simly’s paternal grandfather was regarded as one of the greatest Briefers who ever lived, and though he had never made it to Fixer, he had assisted on many a famous Mission. Simly fired up the Tool and it sprang to life, the sensitive needle flipping back and forth, before zeroing itself. “Glitchometers focus in directly on the unique energy trail left by a Glitch, and when activated, should take us right—”
    But black smoke began to cough out the sides, along with an awful scraping sound, forcing Simly to shut it down before it blew up in his hands.
    “Sorry, boss. I don’t know what happened.” Simly was dejected, especially considering he prided himself on Tool prep and deployment. “Do you want me to call my grandpa and see if he can—”
    “Don’t sweat it, Simly.” Becker rolled up the blueprints and stuffed them in his Toolkit. “We’ll do this the old-fashioned way.”
    The Snooze, Department of Sleep, The Seems
    Deep in the sub-basement of the factory was where they manufactured Snooze—one of the three key ingredients (along with Refreshment and Twinkle) that were mixed to create Sleep itself. Since this was where the Glitch was last sighted, it was here that Becker and Simly began their investigation.
    The air was hot and thick with the smell of burning rubber. Men with smocks and welding visors loaded pure Exhaustion into smelting pots while mechanized arms dropped molasses and maple syrup from gargantuan soup ladles. Once cooled, the gelatinous mess congealed into a thick taffylike substance, which was then cut into chunks and shipped to the Master Bedroom for final mixing.
    “No, no, no, no no!” A rosy-cheeked man in a chef ’s outfit was sampling the batch. “Zis is too sweet!”
    The Snoozemaster had been promoted from “Sous” all the way to “Chef de Cuisine” because of his instinct for how to make Sleep even tastier, but his bombastic personality had ruffled a few feathers along the way.
    “What do you want from me?” cried one of the Tireless Workers. “The Glitch threw off our entire recipe!”
    “ Gleech, Gleech, Gleech! I no want to hear no more about zis Gleech!” The Snoozemaster kicked over a row of pots and pans, while beside him, Becker waited patiently for the temper tantrum to subside.
    “So tell me again how it started?”
    “I get call into ze office, on a night when I have tickets to Ze Snorchestra no less, and what do I findz? All ze recipes for ze Snooze are, how you say, bass ackwards!”
    The master pressed the Snooze button and rebooted his computer, which printed Becker a list of recipes that had all been mixed and matched.
    “Coffee beans are being blended with Pizzazz. Cinnamon with ze Mope. I told zese idiots from day one not computerize ze cookbooks. We makes zis by hand since back in ze Day, and ze system need no Fixing!”
    Becker shook his head. One of the great frustrations of Fixing was the tendency of the Powers That Be to layer “quick fixes” on top of the existing technology, rather than fess up