Miles saw ads for "Garden spray" everywhere. His mother didn't approve, though. "Our crops do just fine without it! What do we need growing spray for anyway?"

 The stuff seemed to work just fine until: "Garden Spray Fails! Crop and animal disease unearthed!"

People who hadn't tried it felt sorry for the people who had, but were relieved that they hadn't. That soon changed. Very soon: "Garden Spray disease was found to be contagious! All crops and animals in
 danger!"

Everyone was in an uproar. Their two main sources of food were either dead or could not be eaten. The disease had managed to make its way to the river so the fish were dying too. The farmers who hadn't done it had quickly collected what had managed to sprout. It had to be checked by experts to see whether it had the disease.

In the Kombi residence, they had collected the sprouts of their crops, but æ of them had the disease. All they had to eat now was some bean sprouts, tomato vines, a handful of berries and a half a loaf of bread. Miles had kept to himself lately thinking about the epidemic- and about the inscription. Today we work, tomorrow we rest for all our work is done. The words kept playing back in his mind. "Strange," he thought. "Usually I can't remember my dreams."

His mother didn't have her day off anymore. She worked in the agricultural department, and they needed all the help they could get. Over the days, Miles came across a book about human psychology. It said that humans tend to want to make things more complex then they are and take more time then necessary to complete them. There is a saying that the visitor Mr. Assiz from Egypt and Greece came up with on his visit to North America. It was-  " Miles- dinnertime!" He didn't hesitate. He snapped the book shut and ran downstairs. Due to the lack of food, he had had a very small breakfast and no lunch. At dinner (bean sprouts and a berry) Dorothy complained. "I'm hungry! Why don't we have more food?"

"Because honey," Mrs. Kombi said soothingly, "The animals don't have any meat on them and the crops aren't good for eating." Mr. Kombi was home every night now because there was no other place to get food. "Shut up girl!" he yelled. "There aint no food 'round here and we's all gonna starve to death so you better be damn grateful that you got some and start enjoying life because it aint gonna be 'round much longer!" Dorothy's eyes welled with tears.

"Marko!" gasped Mrs. Kombi. "Don't you dare talk to our child like that! Don't you dare!" She wholluped him around the face.  "You have gone too far this time!" Mr. Kombi shouted. He whipped out a knife and stabbed her through the heart.

"Ahh!" Miles woke with a start. He was still in his reading chair and the book about psychology was on the floor. He became aware that someone was watching him. Dorothy was standing at the door. "You all right, Dorothy?" he asked her.

"Of course I'm ok," she said. "Why wouldn't I be?" Miles sighed. It had been a dream. "Nothing," he said.

"Mammy said it's time for dinner," she said. Miles' eyes widened. "Dorothy," he said sternly. "Don't you dare complain at dinner tonight, you hear?" Dorothy gave him a funny look. "If you say so," she shrugged and walked off.

At dinner Miles thought about the book he had been reading. It had said that a man from Greece and Egypt had come up with some sort of saying. He assumed that it was about the human urge to make things complex because that is what it had been talking about. Greek and Egyptian-  "Mammy, may I be excused please?" he asked as he shoved the last of his meal into his mouth. Mrs. Kombi looked aghast. "But Miles, we've only just started!"

"I know but I- I have homework," he retorted.

"Well all right, if you have that much," she answered.

A few minutes later in his room, Miles read the book. It said that the saying Mr. Assiz came up with was today we work, tomorrow we rest for all our work is done. "I knew it wasn't a dream!" thought Miles. "I knew it!"

"Knew what?" Dorothy was standing at the door again.

"Go away, Dorothy, I'm trying to work," said Miles.

"What's going on, Miles, what is it?' she whined. He sighed. "Promise not to tell no one?"

"I promise," she said. So Miles started to tell her everything but by the time he got to the part about the room, she had fallen fast asleep.

***

"Miles! Miles Kombi!" Miss Admen tapped him sharply on the head with a ruler. "Would you like to tell us the answer?"

"Err, the left ventricle?" Miles guessed.

"So you're saying that 906.528 times 320.7 equals the left ventricle?" she said sarcastically. Everyone laughed. "No ma'am, it's 290723.52," said Miles, ashamed.

Miles had been thinking about his findings. He had come to a conclusion.

"Let me get this straight," said Mrs. Kombi. "You want me to arrange a meeting with you and the factory manager and you won't even tell me why?"

"Yeah, that's about it," Miles said coolly.

"Look, Miles, the manager of the factory is a very busy man and he won't see a kid like you, especially if he doesn't know why ahead of time," she replied.

"There's no harm in trying, is there," he asked.

***

"Ok, the manager's office is at the very top of the building. I'm friends with the receptionist, so she'll let you in," said Mrs. Kombi nervously. "I have to get to work. Good luck!"

Miles walked up to the elevator. When it opened he walked in and saw the fabulous room that was the elevator. There were seats covered in velvet and on each there was a fold out television set and headphones. There was even a door marked "washroom".  He quickly saw why. There was a whole wall devoted to buttons. Each had a number on it. The highest was 300 and was marked "manager". The light was currently blinking at one.

***

Miles sat nervously in the waiting room. The secretary had let him in but she didn't know whether or not the manager would see him. Suddenly on the secretary's desk a light blinked. "Cassandra?" a voice said. "I'm not busy, I'll see him now." It blinked off. The secretary smiled. "Go on in," she said. Miles acknowledged his thanks and walked into the next room. Sitting at a large desk was a big man. He was balding slightly and he held a cigar between his fingers. "What is it?" he grunted. "You're lucky, I don't usually have time to talk to kids." Miles took a deep breath. "Sir, have you ever heard of a Mr. Assiz?" he didn't wait for an answer. "He came up with the saying  'Today we work, tomorrow we rest for all our work is done!' I heard about it in this book I was reading about psychology."

"Get to the point boy!" the man growled.

"Sorry," said Miles quickly. "Anyway, I found a room in the factory with some Greek/Egyptian hieroglyphics which said the same thing. In the book I was reading it said that humans have a tendency to want to make things more complex then they are," he took a breath. The man looked sceptical. "And?" he asked.

Miles quivered. This was the part he had been dreading. "Well, sir, with the disease and all, I think you should release the work in the factory!" There was a silence. Suddenly, the manager burst out laughing. "Sure, right! Release the work! That's a good one!" but then he spotted the look on Miles' face. "You're serious? Look young man, you know very well that the work won't be ready until the year 2000!" Miles stared into the man's eyes.  "I think that it is ready now. I believe that the work is done and we are just trying to make it more complex than it really is."

"No! You saw what happened with the garden spray!" the man yelled. "There might be more things like that in the rest of the work!"

"Test it, sir, just test it!" Miles pleaded.

"Test it? There is no way we can test all the work in the factory! Besides, there is no point! We would find nothing! Now get out you stupid boy! I have no time for riffraff like you!" and with that he turned away and back to his computer.