Tell me, he does. I have no idea where my car is—I think I left it downtown?—so I ride in with Rupert, who is looking far less Kermit green than he did yesterday. Thankfully, we both are. And my seat belt is hardly on when he reaches into his ever-present portfolio and hands over a page black with ink, today’s date in bold at the top.
“Why are you giving me a numbered list of problems?”
“Because our current problem list requires numbers, and likely more than are on this page.”
I scan—certainly enough, we are still managing fallout from the suspected salmonella incident. According to the list, Rupert has to finish up with the two BC CDC investigators today. In addition to the broken irrigation pipe out at vertical farm B, which I was formerly assured was no big deal but actually is kind
