Useless Bastard

by Hooke, A. J. A.

  Useless Bastard

  A. J. A. Hooke

  Copyright © A. J. A. Hooke

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13:

  Disclaimer:

  This is a work of fiction.

  Although this work is based on the eastern coast of Australia, it isn't based on any particular city. The geography, the layout of streets and the placements of buildings are only described in the way they have been merely for the sake of plot convenience.

  Dave was a complete and utterly useless bastard.

  People often base their sense of usefulness on their job, and yet it wasn't that he was incompetent at his job, it's just that his job would not be considered even slightly vital to the survival of humanity. That if for some reason the universe were to decide that it could do without Dave's job then it could happily get rid of it and continue to function as if nothing had changed.

  It was a job that mostly made you look busy. It was a typical modern job full of self-importance and containing little of real value. Everyone in the office worked hard - many often putting in long hours of overtime. And yet, with all the busy-work, a look into the hearts of all the people that worked alongside Dave would find only tiny, faded souls. Each hour worked would lightly chip away and erode one's spirit, making the small soul even tinier and shallower.

  Sometimes hard work can stand in for delusional contentment.

  Dave worked as an analyst who tracked the progress of businesses. He would build up spreadsheets that were great monsters of complexity, linking all manner of different data points gathered from one business, and then reduce that to a single value that he'd then plot on a graph as a parameter over time. Depending on the company he would give this parameter a difficult sounding name, but one that would impress his clients and make them feel that they were looking upon the secrets of alchemy.

  It was an impressive amount of effort that was ultimately pointless. Dave was no all-seeing god. He was just a lump of meat with some skills at data entry, who deluded himself into thinking that the answers to everything lay in the tabulated numbers and formulas that he created. It was merely a daily, human denial of the dull reality about him.

  If you were to talk to Dave you wouldn't hear a blatant boast. There would be no chest thumping quest for glory at the price of other people. And yet within his humble speech you'd hear phrases that would brook no doubt. It was a confidence that had over stepped into delusion that hid Dave's true lack of significant value. You can't cure a disease if you can't see it. A doctor can't cure themselves if they see no sign of illness. And Dave lacked any means to honestly assess himself.

  It is educational to compare Dave with a man from a few generations before.

  If there was a mark on a wall, a large blemish, a huge stain, then Dave would not know what to do with it. In comparison, his grandfather would know how to prepare that wall. Filling in gaps, smoothing down roughnesses, and doing a good job at re-painting the wall to make it look new. Dave, at his best, could only put a cheap poster over the blemish and pretend that the ugliness went away. With nothing to confront his lack of ability, Dave could continue to prop up his self-delusion that he has somehow done something to truly fix the damaged wall.

  If Dave were to go into the bathroom and see a leaking tap then he'd simply do nothing other than pay for the excess of water consumed. On the other hand, his grandfather would have screwed open the tap and replaced the washers in a blink of an eye. A hint of the downward spiral could be seen when Dave's father who would have pleaded to be busy and called up a plumber to do the job. In comparison, by Dave's generation even the concept that a leaking tap could be fixed had gotten beyond him and others of his age.

  And if Dave was ever to see a blocked sink in his kitchen then there would be no choice but for Dave to move out of the building and hope that the next place that he'd move to had a sink that actually worked. To think that Dave would consider it easier to find a new place to live, pack all his worldly belongings and then move his entire home to some place new must seem like a ludicrous joke, if it wasn't all so sadly a reality.

  No one should mock Dave for this. This uselessness was a modern disease. Protective parents had done all they could to isolate their children from the dangers of the world. They'd done this so successfully that this current generation of children had been even protected from learning about the basics of life. They barely even knew how to stand upright. It was sad to see these lost children age into adulthood with none of the wisdom that came with age.

  The adults of today didn't just lack life experience - they weren't even aware that they could even gain it. In the coming days, humanity would suffer greatly under this wide-spread disease of innocent stupidity. Maybe Dave could have done something before hand to be ready but he didn't even perceive his own weaknesses. And when the time of troubles came it was a time of unforgiving truths.

  * * *

  Dave sat at his desk in front of a mid-range desktop computer.

  The office was one of those affairs that was designed in a bloody minded fashion where everyone's desk was completely visible to everyone else. There were no partitions. No way to stop distractions. Everyone was in everyone's face all the time. Obviously someone in company treasured being able to see that their staff appeared busy over being actually productive.

  After switching to a new window on his computer, Dave scanned the workflow manager and double checked that his latest work had been submitted and the changes made visible. He attached a short description to his work and made sure to make the wording a little awkward as his own subtle protest against the never ending office politics. The weekly office meeting was in about ten minutes and this would give him a sizeable topic to discuss. He double checked and triple checked his most recent submission in order to make the anal types happy.

  Ten minutes wasn't enough time for Dave to start up some new work, so he carefully brought up a browser window so that he could appear to be busy at work. Reading over some news stories would make it appear that Dave was someone who used his time in the office to the fullest and ironically contribute to the image that he was a hard worker - an image that he oddly believed himself. At the same time the open office plan meant that it was a challenge to do something non-work-related without detection.

  A strange looking news story caught his attention. A plane was being held in quarantine. Dave turned his head to look out the windows to his left. Through the windows he could see yet other office buildings. Many employees would fight for a seat near one of the windows, as it one of the pointless views actually mattered. Dave was indifferent to the view and only looked outside to relax his eyes and maybe to try and restart a tired mind. Dave looked back to the news story that he was reading.

  It is amazing how one can look at a key moment in history and not be able to see its significance at all.

  The news article was a weird one. A passenger airliner had landed at the main airport and taxied to the exit. Then the passengers had been denied the chance to leave the plane. It was reported that the pilot had told the air controllers that an infection had taken over the passenger compartments. Worried about bringing in the next big pandemic officials had left the airliner undocked.

  But parking next to the passenger facilities created a PR disaster. People waiting for their flights could easily see across to the airliner and see inside it. All of the passengers were standing. And someone with a zoom camera had uploaded a number of pictures of the passengers, and those pictures were creating a storm on the various social media sites. The skin of these passengers was a slate grey with odd splotches of yellow, and their eyes were a bright, blood-shot red. The yellow patches on the passengers' skin hinted at a bubbling, pus-filled disease. Dave squinted at some of
the pictures and failed to see any sense of humanity from the passengers, which gave him an eerie chill.

  The news articles speculated wildly as you'd expect when there is a complete lack of any real information. Unable to gain anything more from reading the article, Dave closed the browser window so that he wouldn't risk his "research" being discovered. He had timed it well as it was now time for the weekly office meeting.

  But the meeting didn't start. Instead a rather nervous looking team leader dashed into the office.

  From a nearby desk, Dave heard a whisper: "What's up his arse?"

  Dave squinted at the team leader. Layton was just your ordinary bum licker trying to worm his way up the company. Rather harmless in a cute way. And by "cute" Dave meant "pathetic". It's hard to respect someone who spends all their time at work inserting their tongue up the arses of the "important people". Dave was certain that he could smell the shit whenever Layton spoke.

  Layton coughed loudly. "Can I have everyone's attention?"

  There was some muttering but Layton clapped his hands for silence and everyone went quiet.

  "As you know it's about time for out weekly meeting. However, we'll have to cancel it for today."

  There was a little unrest that Layton quickly talked over. "The CEO was meant to be here for the meeting but he's late."

  Sandra from Quality Testing called out a question: "So will it be latter today?"

  Dave was alarmed by how Layton looked at Sandra. Didn't anything else see that look? It was very different to Layton's usual nervousness. It was raw panic that made Dave's mind race with implications.

  "I can't say," said Layton. "The CEO is stuck in the airport."

  Sandra frowned a bit and rhetorically asked: "So the meeting will be latter today? I hope that we'll get a decent warning."

  Layton seemed relieved as if he worried about the chance of another question being asked. "I'll do what I can to keep everyone in the loop. When I know something I'll let everyone here know."

  But then shit stirrer in Dave got to him and he spoke up: "Does this have anything to do with the outbreak at the airport?"

  Everyone turned to look at Dave as he asked that question and so everyone missed Layton's reaction of acute panic. Internally Dave grinned to himself. He had somehow guessed the unwanted question that Layton didn't want asked.

  "No comment," burst Layton, who suddenly turned and fled the room to his office.

  Dave opened his eyes wide. He had hoped to jolt Layton into saying more, but Layton ended up showing more self-discipline than Dave thought he possessed by simply avoiding any further conversation. Dave found himself being suspicious, but without any real target with which to direct his suspicions.

  As Layton retreated, Dave didn't even have his usual bitterness/jealousy about how Layton had his own private office. Dave gritted his teeth as he realised that in his desire to torment Layton that he gotten Sandra's attention. Dave was certain that Sandra had worked in the Gestapo in a previous life. There was someone in the office who reported all the cooler talk to the higher ups and Dave was pretty certain that Sandra was the one. Dave didn't have any proof, but Sandra's nose did have the right shit-stain on it. Shit is always the best descriptor of office life.

  Normally Sandra would give people a frown and the room would go into silence. But this time she spoke up. "What is this 'outbreak' that you're talking about?"

  Immediately Dave swore in his mind. He had to be careful or he'd reveal that he had be reading news sites while at work.

  The best defence is offence, so Dave stood up and walked over to Sandra while saying, "On the way to work I heard a few bits of news. I guess it was early and there wasn't much info."

  Sandra looked dubiously at Dave as he leaned over her desk.

  "Pull up a browser and let's check out the news," suggested Dave.

  A tight, disapproving frown appeared for a moment on Sandra's forehead. Checking the news was outside what should be allowed in the office. Moreover, reading the news, in Sandra's eyes, would be considered "fun" and to her all things fun were forbidden. However, Sandra glanced toward's the closed door to Layton's office and brought up a browser. Clearly Sandra had her own questions and her curiosity overwhelmed her usual militant standards.

  Sandra opened a web browser and did a quick search for diseases and airport. A lot of results for the morning appeared. Sandra opened the first news article in the results from her search. The opened page showed the headlines which caused Dave to exclaim loudly: "Fucking Christ!" Sandra blinked with disapproval at Dave's exclamation, but the news article had a title that confused her and prevented further moralising.

  The news article was reporting how the entire airport was shutdown. Dave looked up and glanced at Sandra as if asking her if what he saw was real. Sandra, her normally tough exterior looking a lot more fragile than normal, looked questioningly at Dave. She had seen what Dave had seen and had been stunned.

  "What the hell is going on? Early they just reported a plane with some people who were acting oddly."

  "Oddly?"

  "They were in the plane. Standing. Their skin was grey with hints of pus and their eyes were bloodshot. It's gone from people standing in a plane to a full quarantine. Someone is really shitting themselves over this. And guess where our CEO is."

  Sandra cleared her throat to clear it of disagreeable ideas. "It looks like the entire airport was closed down. This article is advising people to not to panic and stay away from the airport."

  It could have been going on for some time but Dave only just noticed. "Do you hear the sirens?"

  Sandra looked bewildered. "There's always sirens."

  Dave looked closely at her. "We're on the tenth floor and the windows are double glazed. We shouldn't be hearing shit from the street."

  Sandra bit her lip. She wasn't used to this. It's tough on a control freak when they start to perceive that they are no longer in control. Unexplainable oddities and mysteries were Sandra's deepest enemies.

  Hit by curiosity, Dave said to Sandra but it could have been to no one: "I think I need a coffee. I'll be back in a few minutes."

  Normally Sandra would have told Dave that he could have just gotten an instant from the kitchen area. But her pale face showed a loss of conviction. Dave walked unquestioned towards the elevators. Why did he have a nagging sensation that he had to flee the building that he was in?

  * * *

  After leaving the elevator, Dave wandered through the foyer and out on the street. He paused for a moment under the awning that covered the doors to the building that he just left. Nearby was a man in overalls part way up a ladder trying to clean the large street-level windows with a sponge on a stick.

  It was just a normal, mild, sunny day. Being mid-morning most people were inside at their jobs. Even so, there were a number of people on the street, no doubt going about their lives in their own way. There was no sign of anything being wrong. And yet everything felt wrong. Feeling a sense of unease, Dave looked back and forth along the street. There was some traffic, but maybe not as much as you would normally see. Reading about what was happening at the airport had made Dave all jittery.

  Sighing in an effort to clear his mind of what he couldn't do anything about, Dave walked to the building adjacent to the one that contained his office. The front of this building had a coffee stall that opened directly onto the street. There was no one queuing there so Dave strolled up and ordered a simple coffee. The woman behind the counter gave Dave a grimace as if annoyed at having to make something undecorated - had Dave asked for a more elaborate set of ingredients then she could have charged more. Dave had learnt how to enjoy cheap coffee when he was at university doing a course on software engineering. Cheap times resulted in cheap tastes.

  Dave placed the exact change without a tip on the counter top, which earned him another annoyed expression from the woman behind the counter, and picked up his coffee. He turned to the street and was momentary confused. Nothing was moving. It
took him only a few moments to get a coffee, but in that time the street had emptied of cars. Dave reminded himself that this was a one way street that came from the direction of the airport - a thought that only added to his discomfort. There were a few people on the street, and even they seemed confused by the stillness.

  As if to break a convention, Dave walked further out onto the sidewalk. All the cars had magically disappeared, leaving the street oddly clear of the usual traffic. People had stopped. There was nothing explicit to point at, but there was a tension that froze all movement and thought. There was a strange buzz or hum that Dave had never noticed before that he could not discern the source of.

  Not far down the street, in the direction of the airport, came a shout which curdled into a scream. Dave squinted and could see the incomprehensible. Blood. Lots of blood pouring from a wound in a man's neck. There was the reason for that spraying wound and that reason terrified Dave. A man with grey skin and random, odd looking, yellow patches that might have been some awkward skin infection was using his teeth to rip into the dying man's neck.

  Dave was only immobile for a moment and then turned away. His untouched coffee falling to the sidewalk which went unnoticed by anyone. He didn't really have a logical reason, but he just knew that he had to find safety. He heard a new scream from even closer and knew that finding a safe place had to be now.

  As Dave looked about the street he suddenly noticed just how few places existed where one could be safe. Dave shook his head trying to clear his thoughts, he had no idea what he was up against. He had so little information that he couldn't even bracket a solution in some realm of the known terms. One needed to understand a threat in order to create a solution and Dave had zero understanding of whatever this was.

  For a moment Dave pondered dashing back into the office where he worked, but he couldn't get out of his mind that those buildings were death traps. The front door was the only way out, which meant that if he went in that he'd have to deal with whatever was on the streets anyway when he tried to make his way out.