Darkness. The stifled warble of deep yawning. The unsteady percussion of feet on tile floor. Curses as a lamp is reached for and not found. Hands groping out at empty space and finally finding soft linen. Curtains flung open and sharp blades of light flying inward. Anne blinked at the day she had just brought into being.
The sun shone onto the city, and the city shone back. On the streets below the last dregs of rush-hour were making their presence known with a symphony of horn and brake. Many of these pointed out of town, along a road aimed solely at a single group of buildings, which gleamed brightest of all. Even from her apartment three miles away Anne could see them clear as day, their great glass fronts glistening, opal walls so reflective they ought to come with a recommended SPF. What few birds there were chirped pleasant harmonies as they sought after what little greenery the roads and parking lots hadn’t taken. It was 9:30.
This meant Anne was late.
Fifteen minutes later, and after a hurried shower and frenzied search for what clean laundry remained, Anne was speed-walking across the pavilion that led to the complex, other late-comers jostling for position in the crush for the doors. In one hand she held a coffee, in the other a brown blob that had been a bagel. In a mix-up caused by a lack of a third hand to hold her ticket, she’d sat on it on the shuttle over.
A protective bubble of space remained around her, as the other members of the human river recognized the danger to their clothing, whether java or cream-cheese. She didn’t mind – it gave her the edge needed to overtake. And she needed it. It was her second time late this week. Words would be spoken.
“Someone’s going to have an unhappy line manager”
She turned. It was her friend, from Internal Intelligence. He was smiling in that odd, off-centre way he had. There were rings beneath his eyes, and his shirt looked like it just been used as a napkin, or a football. Or both.
“You look like shit,” she said.
“Wonderful to see you too. Nothing like a compliment to raise the spirits for the day.”
“I’m serious, you look like you got an hour of sleep last night. And when was the last time you shaved?”
“For your information, I got three. And maybe I’m growing it out on purpose, trying out a new look. I think it’s growing very well.”
He stroked his chin, where hair was growing beautifully in about seven entirely disconnected patches.
Anne chose to ignore his willful denial, and said, “How’s that new project going?”
“… fine. It’s not as hard as my manager made it out to be, although there’s layers to it, definitely layers to it.” He stared up at a passing cloud and apologized after bumping into someone.
They walked through the doors and entered the lobby. Daylight shone down through huge octagonal skylights in the ceiling, row after row of mezzanines and galleries lining the walls the whole way down to the marble floor. Dissecting the room was a row of entry gates, each with a camera attached to a pole. They shuffled forward in the queue.
“What did you mean yesterday,” she said as they both stepped forward to a pair of gates, “about the notice policy?”
They both leaned forward into the cameras, lined their eyes up with the reticles. “I’ll tell you in a moment”, he said.
The lights flashed green and the gates opened. In front of them was a lonng series of elevators, with groups of colour coding. They took a blue.
It was empty apart from them. They stood in silence for a moment as the doors closed and the faintest sensation of acceleration gave away the beginning of their descent. They didn’t need to push any buttons, to select the floors they worked on. It knew.
“Well?”, she said.
He stayed silent, and looked up at the camera mounted just above the door.
“Really?”, she said, muffled somewhat by the final bite of bagel-matter. “Why are you being so secretive about this? Yesterday you told me some cryptic fact about the firm’s conditions for giving notice like it was the gravest information you’d ever heard, and now you won’t elaborate at-“
“I want to leave, Anne”.
“Fine!”, she said, though she didn’t mean it. He was her only friend outside her department. “What’s wrong with that? You’re allowed to.”
“Am I?” He looked at her, and she was taken aback at how sad his eyes looked. They were passing level -15.
“Firm Staff Contract Section 29N-ii”, he continued, “says an employee must give a month’s notice to terminate their employment with the firm.”
“Yes, what’s so strange about that-“
“Section 29T-iv: In order to give notice, an employee below manager level must first gain clearance from Human Supply’s Employment Adjustment Team. Section 30B-xi: A request to the Employment Adjustment Team for beginning a notice period must be sent the given employee’s line manager…”
“So?” The level display read -30.
“So three months ago I ask him if he can send this request. No can do, he says, pointing me to Section 139D-iii: No notice period request can be sent by a manager without approval from a member of the Firmwide Talent Management Committee. But there is not such committee. I’ve checked. No response when I emailed them, so I called, to no avail. Then I look up where and when they meet in the Building Index. Seems it’s just a floor up from my cubicle, so I sneak away when no one’s looking and find their room.”
“And they told you that you need to get clearance from someone else?”
“No. They said nothing, because there is no they. I open the door to find I’ve interrupted a very important meeting between a mop and some bleach. Their room was a closet.”
The feeling of light slowing began. “So the whole company is trying to keep you working,” she said.
“No Anne,” he said, “they’re going to keep all of us working. Until we die, or get chosen for Manager Training. I don’t know which is worse.”
“John, I think what you need is some sleep…”
The door opened. Floor -40. He sighed and stepped out.
“Fine. You don’t have to believe me either. I’ll be gone soon anyway.”
“But you said-“
“That’s what I was going to tell you. I’ve figured out another way. I won’t be coming in tomorrow. Or ever again. Nice knowing you Anne.” And he walked around the corner. The door closed silently and began moving again.
It was just two more floors to hers. It felt like it took a very, very long time to get there.