Drained: The Lucid

by E. L. Blaisdell

  “Good morning, everyone,” the woman addressed the active room. She cleared her throat a couple of times into the microphone, and the chatter of the room came to a halt.

  “As you all know by now,” she began, “recently we have had a drop in new enrollment and a larger than average cancellation rate. To address concerns and the rumors that have been circulating, our esteemed branch director wanted to dedicate this day to every member of the Trusics family.” She looked down at the top of the podium. “A member of our public relations team will be first to speak. So please join me in a warm welcome for Kelly Myers.”

  The room filled with applause as the next speaker took the stage. Riley recognized the woman’s face from a few company events, but they didn’t know each other well.

  The PR employee wore an outfit that made Riley rethink her business casual wardrobe of denim and plaid. Kelly’s chiffon top was loose but flattering to her body shape, and a boyfriend blazer hung unbuttoned as the outer layer, the cinched sides revealed her feminine curves. Pleated cropped dress pants clung to her like a second skin, and her feet showcased peep-toe platforms. In Madison’s vocabulary, it was fab-fucking-tastic.

  “In light of recent events, our PR team has worked countless hours to mitigate the false accusations that have been made against us.” Kelly’s fingers curled around the top of the podium. “It is unfortunate that lies and wild speculation about the security of our services can cause such damage to our reputation, but that is the world in which we live today.”

  She went on to explain how they’d reached out to many reputable news partners to counteract the allegations of their customer database being used inappropriately.

  “Customers will always fear that their privacy is being violated,” she continued in earnest. “But we would like to confirm to every member of this great organization that we do not sell our user information and never will. Everything is encrypted, and we make sure that the data sent through our company servers is protected from unwanted eyes. Selling user information to third parties is not our business and never will be a part of our future. Please continue what you’re doing and do maintain good relationships with the clients that we still have. This has not been a devastating blow, but it is a wakeup call to the mortality of our company as a whole. Thank you.”

  Everyone clapped at the end of Kelly’s speech, and the emcee reclaimed the podium. She next introduced a representative from information technology to explain the security of the company servers. Riley could tell that the man was clearly nervous; he didn’t have the same air of confidence as the speaker before him.

  He tapped the mic a little too hard and fumbled his way through his speech. He was not in his comfort zone. But as he spoke, he was able to confirm the security of the websites, servers, and the layers of encryption that were in place. Although his speech was a fraction of the time of the first speaker’s, he had managed to get his points across.

  A human resources employee walked onto the stage after, a bright smile on her face. “It’s great to see so many familiar faces in this crowd. Although I bring nothing new to the table, I am here to remind you of our protocols.” Unlike the previous speakers, she had a sheet of notes to go through. With agenda in hand, the upbeat woman spoke nonstop for twenty minutes, during which Riley had to elbow Seven several times to keep him from nodding off.

  “Lastly, with the drop in membership,” she wrapped up, “we would like to remind you that it is important that you report all nondatabase, client-like, experiences that require any kind of specialized services.” She gave pause and her eyes scanned the room. The action made Riley’s palms begin to sweat. “Every ounce of effort makes a difference in the long run. If any of you know that a fellow co-worker is in engaging in off-the-record activities, feel free to file a report and we will investigate. It is not our purpose to make your lives more difficult, but we need to remind you that these rules exist to benefit you as the employee and us as a family.”

  Niall Price was the last person to take the stage. When he walked up to the podium, he stood tall, and his head was held high. His dark hair was cleanly cut on the sides with no more than an inch on top. A trimmed beard sparsely framed his jaw. Niall’s expression was nearly impossible to read. It was stoic, firm, and his angular features stood out. He cleared his throat when he reached the microphone. The glassy-eyed lull that had settled over the assembled crowd from the previous speakers crumbled away.

  “Thank you for taking the time to be here today.” He flashed white, even teeth at the room of onlookers. “It is in times like these that we must unite as a company and work as a cohesive unit. Your support and devotion to Trusics is greatly appreciated, and it is because of that kind of attitude that we’re what we are today.” He stabbed his pointer finger against the top of the podium.

  “In these past few months we have experienced a few minor bumps in our path to grander goals. In the next months, we will be restructuring the entire organization. Every branch will undergo the same changes, and it will be the dawn of a new and stronger company.” He balled his fist, and his eyes glowed with emotion. His energy was almost palpable, enough so that he had to take a calming breath. “The transition will be slow to ensure that all goes well. Each department will be notified of the changes that will affect them in the coming weeks. We expect that by the end of the first quarter of the next year, we’ll have completed the adjustments. Expect changes, but embrace the new and better future of our family here. Stay true to what and who we are, and you will all reap the rewards. Remember: live with ethics, respect the rules, and never stray.”

  Without waiting for any questions from the audience, Niall turned sharply on his designer shoes and strode off the stage, looking as confident as his entrance.

  A smattering of applause followed his exit, and slowly the assembled employees began to gather their belongings and take their own leave.

  “Who’s up for lunch?” James rubbed his hands together.

  “I’m not hungry, but I sure as hell could go for a drink,” Seven said with a nod.

  “Riley? You coming?” Heather asked.

  Riley shook her head. “Hyrum wants to meet with me.”

  Madison made a juvenile noise. “Someone’s in trouble,” she sang.

  “More like someone’s getting another raise,” Seven grumbled, sounding uncharacteristically bitter.

  Riley gave her friends a brief wave in parting before she left the twenty-fifth floor to return to Hyrum’s office two floors below.

  A second set of footsteps echoed in the stairwell on the way down to the twenty-third floor.

  “Josh!” Riley was surprised to see the Trusics techie. “My phobias aren’t rubbing off on you, are they?”

  Josh shook his head and pushed his shaggy hair away from his forehead. “No. But with so many people in the building today, the elevators are a mess.”

  She nodded sagely. “Yeah. I haven’t seen this kind of traffic since I got here.”

  “I saw the webcast of the seminar.” Josh’s face became serious, and his hands naturally jammed in the front pockets of his jeans. “We’re restructuring? Do you know anything other than what Mr. Price told us?”

  “Sorry. You probably know more than I do, what with your inside sources and all.”

  Josh flashed a wide smile. “Hey, the men’s bathroom is a very reliable source.”

  “I’m actually glad I ran into you. I have a favor to ask.”

  “I don’t think I like the sound of that.” Josh frowned and his gaze dropped to the ground. “The last time I did one of those for you, I found myself in a lingerie store.”

  “That was an emergency, I promise.” Riley grinned. “But anyway, back to my favor—I’ve got a mark I need some information on and I figure you’re the guy to help me.”

  Josh beamed proudly. “Sure. What do you need?”

  “This mark has been in our system for a few years and I’m curious about which other cubare have accessed her dreams in the p
ast. I was hoping we could … compare notes.”

  “You do that, too?”

  “Sure,” Riley said, not really lying. Because of her personal success, she often had requests from other cubare at Trusics for feedback about certain marks. She herself, however, hadn’t reached out in some time. But she had no intention of ‘comparing notes’ with whomever had broken Morgan the way they had. “If it helps us extract more energy, why not? You heard Niall a few minutes ago, we’re like a big family,” she said, a little too brightly.

  Riley chewed on her lower lip. She felt overwhelmingly guilty to be lying and abusing her friendship with Josh like this. Caution and proprietary told her not to dig into Morgan’s past, but her curiosity had won out ever since she’d learned that Morgan had been visited by another of her kind years ago. She could have told Josh the truth, but she’d done too many unorthodox things to keep Morgan’s uniqueness a secret. She wasn’t going to spoil that now.

  Josh nodded thoughtfully and played with the short tuft of hair growing on his chin. “It’ll take some digging, but I’ll see what I can do. E-mail me the mark’s profile number later?”

  “As soon as I get home, I will.” Riley gave her friend a brilliant smile. “Thanks for doing this, Josh,” she said, as she continued down the stairs to meet up with Hyrum. “You’re the best.”

  • • •

  Hyrum looked away from his computer screen when he heard the soft rap of knuckles on his open office door. “Riley.” He smiled serenely. “Thanks for coming in.” He stood and walked around his desk.

  Riley tried not to fidget. She hated being called in to Hyrum’s office. She’d never been reprimanded or received bad news, but every time felt like those moments in school when she heard her name announced over the PA system. She’d also never done anything remotely unorthodox before when it came to Trusics’s policies. The employee manual had become her holy book the moment she’d been offered the job.

  She moved in the direction of the chair on the opposite side of Hyrum’s desk, but her manager stopped her before she could sit down.

  “I need to discuss something with you, Riley, but not here.”

  Riley’s eyebrows furrowed. “Oh?”

  Hyrum grabbed his trench coat from a stand-alone coat rack and pulled it on. “Did you have any other business to take care of in the building today?” He flattened his tie down his slightly protruding chest.

  Riley shook her head.

  “Good. Then follow me.”

  Riley wanted to ask Hyrum what this was about, but she couldn’t muster the nerve. Instead, she solemnly followed her boss down the hallway towards the bank of elevators. She could feel eyes on her and she tried to keep her chin up and her face neutral like a defiant woman marching toward the guillotine.

  When Hyrum stopped at the elevators and pressed the button to go down, Riley panicked. “Hyrum, I … I can’t go in there.”

  Confusion briefly flickered across Hyrum’s unlined face before turning into realization. “I’m sorry, Riley. I completely forgot. How about I meet you down there?”

  “Where exactly?” Riley worried aloud.

  “Floor L3.”

  Riley took the stairwell down; her boots echoed in the empty chamber as she descended into the belly of the building. She had no idea what Trusics housed beneath the ground-level lobby, and she couldn’t imagine why Hyrum wanted to meet with her down there instead of in his office. The scenarios that ran through her head made her stomach churn with anxiety. She suspected it had something to do with Morgan. She hated to think that Heather might have checked to see if she had truly filed that paperwork, and in discovering that Riley had lied to her—again—had alerted Hyrum. It was a ridiculous thought that her best friend would have betrayed her, but she couldn’t help herself. Her numbers lately hadn’t been spectacular, but she was still keeping her head above water. She had continually reached her quota despite not feeding from Morgan, but the paperwork had been a loose end for which she couldn’t excuse herself.

  Riley reached the sublevel floor and pushed through the heavy fire-proof door. A cold blast of air hit her in the face; no wonder Hyrum had thought to bring a jacket. The basement level was a cold, concrete parking lot that she hadn’t realized existed. She and all her friends always parked in an adjacent employee parking lot that offered no protection from the elements.

  She found her boss standing alone under a solitary light near the elevators. He still wore his long trench coat, now buttoned up to his chin. One hand was thrust deep in the jacket pocket while his other hand hung loose at his side. He looked lost to his thoughts. His normally keen and alert eyes were clouded with distractions. Riley’s footsteps alerted the man to her arrival and he snapped back into focus.

  Riley turned up the collar of her button-up shirt and shoved her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “So what’s up boss?” She tried to keep her voice from wavering.

  Hyrum frowned. “You know we’ve been under a lot of pressure lately from both the board of directors and the custos community. These rumors have been more than damaging to the company’s public persona and membership has been steadily dropping.”

  Riley nodded.

  “As a result of the planned restructuring, a few new faces will be joining while a few people will be let go. It’s unfortunate, but the higher-ups want to breathe new life into the corporation—shake things up and really tackle some of our issues.”

  “And letting go of people will do this?” Riley challenged. She bristled at the idea of laying off anyone, human or cubare.

  “I don’t like it any more than you, Riley, but it’s for the greater good,” he reasoned. “We have to chop off the weakest branches if we want the tree to continue to thrive. With the world we now live in, we need to be more proactive than ever before to balance our commercial success with the anonymity of what we really are. It’s a delicate line that’s hard to manage. I could see how a stronger PR and marketing team could help us in the long run.”

  “How about our side of the business?” Riley posed. “The account executives.”

  Hyrum rocked back on his heels. “We’re being restructured, too. We’re weeding out people with external loyalties.”

  “External loyalties?” She didn’t like the way that sounded.

  “Employees married to independents or who have human companions are being reevaluated,” Hyrum explained. Riley’s thoughts immediately went to Aaron. “They have priorities elsewhere, and rightly so, but it’s not in the best interest of our company. We’ll be replacing some of them well into the next year. But I anticipate a slow transition. We need commitment now more than ever.”

  Although she resisted the urge for her gaze to wander, Riley’s eyes were drawn to the hand in Hyrum’s jacket pocket that refused to emerge. Maybe this wasn’t about Morgan, after all. This was about Amber.

  “Which is why you’re getting a raise.”

  “A-a raise?” Riley echoed. She nearly choked on the unexpected announcement. A lot had changed since their last meeting.

  “And this car.” Hyrum pulled his hand out of his pocket, producing a key fob. He pressed his thumb to a button, and a nearby car chirped to life.

  “Oh my God, Hyrum. I thought you were bringing me down here to fire me. Or kill me.” She blinked, not knowing which fate would have been worse.

  She walked over to the lit-up car and ran her fingertips down the smooth lines of the luxury sports sedan. The vehicle looked costly enough to be a downpayment on a home. She half expected models to walk out of the elevator and show off the interior or for confetti to fall from the ceiling. “This is too much,” she murmured. She didn’t deserve it; she didn’t deserve any of this.

  “Not if you’re a manager.”

  Riley’s head snapped up.

  “It’s all part of the restructuring. Customer Satisfaction Account Executives like yourself will be divided into twenty groups instead of the ten we have now. This means more managers and smaller groups so w
e can focus on a tighter team.”

  And Trusics can keep a closer eye on their agents, Riley privately mused.

  “The company is looking for a couple agents to promote to the new manager positions.” Hyrum held out the key fob for the car. “The job is yours if you want it, Riley.”

  “Manager?” Riley rolled the word around on her tongue.

  A small smile played over Hyrum’s lips. “I can understand if you’d rather stay in the field. But ultimately, the decision is yours. Mull it over, there isn’t a need for an immediate decision. As I said before, the changes will be slow and steady.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The low profile wheels of the charcoal grey sedan crunched on the loose gravel in Amber’s driveway. It wasn’t technically Amber’s driveway, but rather the parking alley of the three-bedroom home she rented with two friends from high school. The white wood-framed house looked straight out of another time, another era. Riley imagined it as part of the scenery on a family farm in Nebraska during the Dust Bowl, not in a Los Angeles residential neighborhood.

  The new car had practically floated down the busy city’s highways on the way to her girlfriend’s home. She’d have to take a cab or catch a ride later to get her own car, but she couldn’t resist taking the new set of wheels for a spin. She locked the doors upon exiting and strode up the back steps to the door that expected visitors used. Only the mailman and strangers went to the front entrance. Green prickly weeds sprouted up in the cracks on the concrete slab that served as a patio, empty save for the rusted coffee can filled with cigarette butts and an inch of rain water.

  Riley climbed the three cement stairs, rang the back doorbell, and waited. They weren’t to that part of their relationship where they had exchanged keys, and neither woman had their own drawer at the other’s home. Riley imaged those conversations would be forthcoming, however, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it.