by Ben Wolf
Delores stepped inside the room. Justin started to wave at her, but when a pair of black-clad security guards stepped inside behind her, he stopped.
She pointed at him. “He’s the only one who’s had access in the last half-hour.”
The security guards approached him, and he stood with his hands up. “Whoa—easy, guys. What did I do?”
“Turn around, please,” the one on the left said.
“This is ridiculous. I didn’t do anything.” Even as Justin said it, he wondered about some of those files. Is that why they’re coming for me?
Had he just done something to get himself fired?
The security guards drew stun batons from their belts and extended them. They glowed and swirled with purple electrical currents from just above their handles to the tips.
“Okay, okay.” Justin complied before they had a chance to use them. He turned around, pressed his hands against the wall, and spread his legs. All he’d done was look at a few files, and this was the response?
One of the security guards kept his baton out, but the other retracted his and exchanged it for a pair of magnetic cuffs. He yanked Justin’s arms down behind his back and clamped them tightly onto his wrists. Justin’s arm muscles burned from their rough treatment.
The security guard turned him toward the door, and the other guard stashed his baton as well. Then Laithe Gerhardt, Director of Security, stepped into the room behind Delores.
Justin swore under his breath. This was serious.
Gerhardt shot him a glare. “Come with me.”
Justin had seen enough cop movies to know why they’d left him in a locked security room alone for the past half-hour. There were dozens of psychological reasons for it, and if he were honest, most of them now afflicted him as a result.
On top of that, lunch was starting in a few minutes. If they didn’t let him out soon, he’d miss it.
He rubbed his forehead for the umpteenth time—at least they’d uncuffed him before they’d left—and he frowned at the wall-sized black screen on the opposite side of the table from where he sat.
Then the door to his right clicked and whooshed, and both Gerhardt and Oafy from HR strolled in. They sat in the two alloy chairs between the table and the black screen, facing Justin.
“You’re equal parts lucky and stupid. You know that?” Gerhardt leaned back and folded his arms. The front legs of Gerhardt’s chair lifted off the ground, and Justin wished he could’ve reached far enough to kick it out from under him.
Justin didn’t reply. He just glowered at Gerhardt.
Oafy pulled a handscreen out of her purse and laid it flat on the metal table. “Under the Universal Disclosure Act, I’m required to inform you that this conversation is being recorded, both audio and video. Anything you say can and will be admissible in a court of law should this progress that far.”
Justin raised his eyebrow. Well, at least if Gerhardt hits me, it’ll be recorded.
“Normally, in a situation like this,” Oafy said, “we’d terminate your employment immediately, pursue civil litigation, and file criminal charges against you.”
“For what?” Justin snapped.
“Corporate espionage, trespassing, violation of your employment contract, and much, much more,” Gerhardt said.
“I didn’t do any of that. And you two aren’t even cops. I demand to be released. Now. You can’t hold me here.” Justin laid his palms flat on the table.
Oafy shook her head. “Your employment contract states that you must cooperate with any ongoing investigations, internal or external, as directed by company management. So you’re correct that we cannot technically keep you here. But if you leave, you automatically terminate your employment and open yourself up to litigation and the aforementioned charges.”
But you’re not firing me on the spot. Justin’s eyes narrowed. Why?
“In other words, cooperate, and you can get out of here. If not, I hope you know a good lawyer. You’ll need one.” Gerhardt’s chair set down on all fours again.
“And if I ask for a lawyer now, what happens?”
“You’re welcome to call one. There are a couple based out of the spaceport, but they won’t work without a retainer.” Oafy tapped her handscreen a few times. “And according to our records, you’ve barely earned enough to buy a new pair of boots. As I said, you’re free to try, but I don’t think a lawyer would help you.”
“Why haven’t you fired me yet?”
Gerhardt leaned forward. “Keep doing what you’ve been doing, and we’ll get there.”
Justin wrinkled his nose at Gerhardt’s terrible breath and arched back. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“First, you entered a restricted area after work hours without permission or supervision,” Oafy read from her handscreen. “Second—”
“We all know the doors were open, so your definition of ‘restricted’ is spotty, at best.”
“Second, you attempted to access restricted, confidential information while using Dr. Stielbard’s clearance,” Oafy continued. “That’s a major violation of company rules and of your employment contract.”
“She sent me to Admin to pull files on intersection points. I can’t help what comes up in the search results.” Flimsy, at best. They’d knock that over fast.
“You can, however, choose what you access from that list. And you chose other search criteria. You searched for ‘Sector 6 Accident,’ then you searched for ‘Stielbard’ and looked at her private medical records. As a woman, I must say that is very unnerving and creepy.”
“It wasn’t like that at all.” Justin glared at her.
“And from a link in her records, you tried to access a restricted file on Sector 6.”
“Why is it restricted? What are you trying to hide?” Justin leaned forward. “And why did nothing about my incident in Sector 6 show up in the search results? Trying to hide that, too?”
“Like I said, you’re stupid.” Gerhardt shook his head. “Dr. Stielbard only cleared access to a certain range of files. The range was only supposed to include scientific data, but since you were using her clearance, her personal data also came up, and you, being the pervert that you are, decided to have a look.”
Justin stood fast, and his chair toppled backward. “I am not a pervert.”
Gerhardt rose to meet him. “Sit your ass back down.”
“Gentlemen, please.” Oafy held up her hands, one toward each of them. “I don’t want this exchange getting out of hand. Let’s be civil.”
“Pretty hard to be civil when you’re accusing me of things I didn’t do,” Justin snapped.
“So you didn’t access Dr. Stielbard’s medical records?” Oafy asked. “You didn’t search for ‘Sector 6 Accident’ or try to access a restricted file on Sector 6?”
Justin hesitated, and he kicked himself for it. He reached down, set his chair upright, and sat down again. “Are you firing me or not?”
Gerhardt sat down as well. “Like I said, you’re not just stupid. You’re also lucky.”
“In cases such as yours, Andridge has a three-strike policy. Your venture into Sector 6 the other night was strike one. Your behavior in the file room today is strike two.”
In cases such as mine? What does that mean?
They must’ve thought Justin still had leverage over them because of the Sector 6 incident. Indeed, if he sued, he might have a shot. Apparently, they believed he did, or they would’ve just fired him. And that’s in spite of the beating Dirk gave him in the club on Saturday night.
Stecker must’ve been wrong. Dirk’s fists didn’t overwrite my condition after all.
“Look, we all know Dr. Stielbard gave me access, so I didn’t steal her card or anything like that. But even so, I didn’t want to be in that file room. I didn’t want to be on light duty, either, but Dr. Handabi ordered it.”
“Frankly, I agree with you, so I’m reactivating you for regular duty effective this afternoon,” Oafy said. “We can’t trust you in th
e science office or in the admin offices. You’ve thoroughly proven that. So back to the mine you go.”
“Good. That’s what I want.”
“I will remind you that your employment here is conditional. Thus far, you’ve only convinced us that you shouldn’t be employed here at all. I’d like you to consider this second, second chance at the beginning of your path toward being a valued, respected, and trustworthy employee of ACM-1134.” Oafy gave him an HR-worthy smile. “Can we agree on that?”
Justin nodded. “Yeah. That’s all I want.”
“Very good.” Oafy stood up and extended her hand.
Justin stood and shook it. He turned toward Gerhardt with his hand still extended, but Gerhardt didn’t oblige him. Instead, Gerhardt stood, walked over to the door, and scanned his identity card at the reader. The door whooshed open.
Oafy turned her handscreen off, plopped it into her bag, and left, and Gerhardt motioned for Justin to leave, too. When Justin got to the door, Gerhardt caught him with a hand to his chest.
“I’ve warned you twice now to cut this shit out. There will not be a third warning.”
Justin glowered at him. “HR just made that clear. You can take your hand off of me now.”
Gerhardt matched Justin’s glare, but he lowered his hand and let Justin pass.
At lunch, Keontae and Connie grilled Justin about his morning with the scientists and the suits, but the only thing that caught their interest was when he mentioned how they’d locked him up in the security office. As usual, Candy sat there, silently watching, listening, and eating.
“At least they cleared you to come back to the mine, bro,” Keontae said. “More importantly, I’m glad you’re up to it.”
Justin nodded. “Yeah. I don’t feel a hundred percent, but it’s better than having to learn spreadsheets or run errands for those pricks.”
“You got that right. It’ll be good to have you back. Now you can start making real money.” Connie rubbed her meaty hands together.
Afterward, as Justin suited up to enter the mine, his muscles burned anew. Exerting himself in any significant way wore him out.
He pulled his coveralls over his denim, and something pricked his thigh from inside his jeans pocket. He pulled it out and looked it over. It was a small, blue capsule wrapped in safety packaging.
The adrenalite pill that Pinch had given him. He shook his head, then headed to the nearest trash receptacle, and popped it open. But as he held the pill over it, ready to drop it into the trash, his aching arms protested.
Maybe I’d better keep it, just in case. Of all days, today would be the day I’d use it.
Justin tucked the capsule into the pocket of his safety trousers and continued getting dressed.
Twenty minutes later, he stood in the mine in front of Shannon, clad in his safety gear. “I’m here, boss.”
She eyed him and looked him up and down. “They told me you weren’t cleared for regular duty.”
“They just cleared me before lunch. I guess I’m not much help to the white collars.” He gave her a wink, and to his surprise, her mouth curled into a slight grin. He nodded toward her handscreen. “Check the list, or whatever. HR said they’d clear me.”
“Alright.” Shannon raised her left eyebrow, but she checked anyway. She tapped the handscreen a few times and then looked up at him. “Looks like you’re right. Get to work.”
“Good. Thanks.” He started to turn away, but he stopped and faced her again. “About this weekend—”
“You’ve got work to do, don’t you, Mr. Barclay?” Harry approached from behind Shannon and stood next to her.
Justin eyed him. He was decent-looking, but older, with blue eyes and dark hair. Harsh, dark eyebrows, too, that perpetually arched down. Maybe that was Shannon’s type.
Justin extended his hand. “I don’t think we’ve met. You know me, but I don’t know you.”
“Harry Skylar. Foreman Skylar, if you don’t mind.” Harry shook Justin’s hand and squeezed it hard.
He had a strong grip, but Justin squeezed back. Stalemate. Harry released his grip first, and Justin followed suit.
Justin regretted trying to show him up. Now his hand ached from fatigue.
“I just received word that Justin—that Mr. Barclay was cleared by HR to work here today.” Shannon tapped her handscreen.
“I’m glad you’ve recovered from your injuries already.” Harry eyed him. “Your face notwithstanding, of course.”
“This was from something completely different.” Justin tried to make eye contact with Shannon, but she continued tapping at her handscreen.
“Whatever the case, we’re not paying you to stand around,” Harry said. “You failed your last test for mech certification, right? So you normally operate a hand-laser?”
Justin’s jaw tightened. How Harry had gotten that information, Justin didn’t know, but it pissed him off. Apparently HR played fast and loose with employee files. “That’s one thing I can do. Yes.”
“Good. Then why don’t you join your regular squadron at the southeast end of the cavern?”
Justin clenched his fists and forced a smile. It hurt his nose. “Fine with me.”
Shannon finally looked up at him, but she said nothing.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Harry waved him away. “Go on.”
Justin nodded, turned, and headed toward the racks of equipment. What a clown.
When Justin glanced back, Harry was chuckling and nudging Shannon with his elbow, and she smiled back at him. Had he said something to her about Justin?
Maybe I’m the clown.
He scanned his identity card at the rack and entered the number for the nearest hand-laser. It beeped in the negative, and he cursed it silently. He considered that maybe his card was faulty, but memories of getting trapped in Sector 6 reinforced the idea that the mine’s networks were glitchy.
He tried again, and it beeped in the affirmative, and he pulled the hand-laser free.
The term was somewhat of a misnomer, as the apparatus actually wrapped around the bearer’s waist and shoulders like a harness. A purdonic laser attached to an articulated arm affixed to either the left or right side of the harness based on the user’s preference. Then the user would operate the laser in his hands—hence the name—to do whatever the job required.
Justin donned the apparatus, including a transparent protective shield over the top of his head, and he affixed the laser arm to the right side. The apparatus’s design was supposed to reduce the amount of stress on the user’s back and shoulders, but the whole thing weighed on him as if he were carrying an orangutan on his back.
He blamed his weakened muscles for it, but he’d determined he wouldn’t let it bother him, if only to show Harry—and Shannon—that he wasn’t the ponce that corporate had made him out to be.
Justin activated the device, and a series of lights glowed down the arm, red at first, but progressing through oranges and yellows to greens and blues, signifying a healthy amount of charge for the laser. If it got down to the reds, he’d have to wait a few seconds to let the unit cool off so it wouldn’t overheat.
A pressure-sensitive trigger in his right hand, activated by his index and middle finger for additional control, determined the strength of the laser. Squeeze harder, and it shot hotter and wider. It wasn’t as strong as the purdonic lasers on the mechs, like the one piloted by Keontae, but it could still carve through a lot of rock quickly.
As he started his trek over to his work area, he noticed a large man working on the opposite end of the cavern. When the man turned around, Justin swore under his breath.
It was Dirk.
Shannon must not have gotten him fired after all. Justin shook his head and continued on.
When he reached the far end of the cavern, Connie waved at him with his free hand. She, too, wore a hand-laser apparatus like his, only she stood with her back straight as if it weighed nothing around her shoulders. Justin had to fight just to keep from toppli
ng over.
Ralph Williams, who was about Connie’s age or older and who reminded Justin of a fun-sized grizzly bear, waved Justin over. He wore one of three mech suits in their squadron, and three yellow triangles under the cockpit glass denoted him as their squadron’s supervisor.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on light duty?” Ralph asked.
Justin shook his head and explained.
Ralph checked his display and confirmed, then he sent Justin to work.
Within an hour, the fatigue threatened to overwhelm Justin. He paused his lasering and reached into his pocket for the adrenalite. He glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was looking, but everyone continued to work in spite of him, Connie and Ralph included.
He stared at the pill. Something told him he shouldn’t take it, but his aching, worn-out body reminded him that if he couldn’t work, he wouldn’t get paid. Besides, mines were full of guys and gals who relied on this type of stuff to get through long workdays.
But I never wanted to be one of them.
The hand-laser apparatus gained twelve pounds as he stood there, debating with himself. His legs wobbled, his back ached, and his shoulders begged for mercy.
I can’t do this without help.
Justin unwrapped the pill, tucked the wrapper back in his pocket, opened his face shield, and popped it into his mouth. He swallowed it whole and closed his face shield again.
“Barclay?”
He whirled around, the aches and pains still fighting to overwhelm him.
Ralph stood forty or fifty feet away, in his mech, staring at him. “You alright?”
Justin nodded. “Just letting my laser cool off a bit.”
“Looks like you’re already there, kid.” Ralph nodded toward the laser arm.
Justin looked. Blue light shone at the end closest to the laser. “Right. Thanks.”
He turned back toward the wall of rock he was working on and tried to raise the laser, but it wouldn’t lift. His muscles rebelled, and he swore under his breath.
He reached over with his left arm, pushed his hips forward, and arched his back. In doing so, he managed to get the laser’s trajectory level with his line of sight, and he squeezed the trigger.