They grabbed Jerrol before he could say any more, and then he was out of my sight.
“Get back to work,” the supervisor said.
“Where are they taking him?”
“A hearing to decide how much more time is added to his work commitment. You want the same?”
I’d never been threatened so quickly. It meant I was close to finding out information that they didn’t want me to find out about, and it had to do with the vitamins.
Those pills.
I suspected what they did, but it never really hit me until then. Jerrol had called the pills an inhibitor. I knew what inhibitor meant because it was also a component of the workstations. I read all about them in detail because the workstation manuals were one of the reading materials that I was encouraged to read. Because it was all I had at times, I learned all about the machines that processed the energy that I created.
If there was an inhibitor in my own mind, it was holding me back. Without it my power was exponential.
***
I went to my workstation that night and turned the couplings off. I figured that since the power came from me, most likely I’d be able to withstand the effects of whatever was produced. I held them and concentrated and didn’t think about anything else. Not my uncertainty about what I was doing here, up top, or Sandra. All I thought about was putting as much energy into those couplings as possible, and the reaction was almost immediate. I focused my energy, my power, and it felt like I was taking a large building and bending it in half. The energy entered my own body instead of going through the couplings. It permeated, penetrated, and I was absorbed, and just before I passed out, I felt the inhibitors in my bloodstream disintegrate.
The release was instant. It felt like my head had been in a vise, and that vise loosened pleasurably and was finally gone, like I’d been holding my breath all along and could finally breathe.
ENTRY 15
I’d been in a fog my entire life, and over the next few days the haze that was produced by those pills lifted. The world around me was clearer, cleaner, louder. It was like before I could hear a crowd from outside a room and now I was in the middle of them, and it was deafening. Everything had changed. All my senses had heightened. My fingertips, my taste buds, and even my cock. It was constantly up until I grabbed a hold of it like Sandra had done. I had no idea how controllable my world was without sticky dreams.
I’d taken pills in the morning, at lunch, dinner, and then before bed as long as I could remember. They’d called them vitamins, but they weren’t; they were an inhibitor, and they had practically reduced me to basic human function. I bet I was at a quarter of my capability on the pills. Not taking them and the removal of the inhibitor unleashed me to be my prime self. Without them I felt like a runner who got his legs back and was running at full stride. I knew I was capable of more though, and I intended to find out how much.
I still pretended to take the pills, but I found that once they were in my mouth I could destroy them whenever I wanted. All I had to do was think about them, allowing a speck of power to touch them, and then they would disintegrate. Management had no idea.
I’d been under the influence of those pills for so long that I had never truly been myself, and I’m still not. Now I have room to grow. Who knows who I’ll be in a few years or even in a few hours. I needed to talk to someone, so once again, I stopped showing up for work.
***
A supervisor I’d never seen before came to my door. “What seems to be the problem?” he said.
“I have questions.”
“You’re well aware of the repercussions of questions.”
“Do you know anything of value?”
“I’m going to report you, Trent. More time will be added to your work commitment.”
He was trying to be tough but was doing a poor job of it.
“I want to talk to Rabin.”
“He’s unavailable. Whatever issue you’re having, you can tell me—”
“Fuck you!”
The supervisor looked like he’d been slapped across the face.
“I want to talk to Rabin,” I said slowly.
“He’s on the surface. He won’t be back until Wednesday. It’ll take him a few days to catch up on the work he has down here, so he’ll probably be able to come see you on Friday or at the latest Tuesday. Will you go back to work until then?”
He was telling the truth, or at least he believed what they’d told him.
“All right,” I said.
ENTRY 16
Cake, but no Sandra. When I asked about her, they said she was up top, having satisfied her work commitment. I didn’t even want to think about what her work commitment entailed. How many others had she visited?
The time period the supervisor had talked about elapsed months ago. No advice on how to get promoted. No sign of Rabin, period. I didn’t expect anything and didn’t react. Not on the outside at least. On the inside I was fuming and thinking about all of the ways to get the hell out of Facility Three.
I’m starting to suspect they know what I’m up to. I see eyes on me a lot while I’m working, and they all act like they’re staring at their clipboards, but I see them doing a poor job of it. When I look up they look away quickly to whatever they were pretending to be busy with in the first place. I’ve become quite paranoid since I stopped taking the pills, but my suspicion is that they are aware of that somehow, so I started acting how I thought I behaved while I was taking those evil little pills.
Supervisors on the work floor were new almost every day, like there were changes—big ones—being made. I decided to ask each of them random questions to see if they were all on the same page. I asked to talk to those who were high up in managing the facility, and they gave me a series of random, inconsistent responses.
The next time I saw a new supervisor pretending not to be focused on me I walked right up to him before I even started working. He looked afraid as I approached. Not sure what that meant.
“I’d like to talk to whoever’s in charge,” I said.
“They’re unavailable at the moment.”
It was their most consistent answer, and it didn’t even make any sense. He just had the response loaded.
“So no one’s in charge? Who are you kidding?”
“Just hold on—”
“Any ladies that could visit me?”
“None at the moment.”
“I’d like to speak to Rabin.”
“I think he’s satisfied his work commitment. I haven’t seen him in a while.”
I know I’m being lied to. I’m off the pills and lucid. Not only that but how stupid do they think I am? I’m well aware of some sort of charade. Why are they hiding information? It seems pretty simple down here. I know I’m never going to get the answers I’m looking for by ordinary measures.
The ones on the top of the productivity list, the ones they are constantly speaking of and showing everyone and announcing over the loudspeaker, who are consistently and conveniently being sent up top, probably don’t even exist. I’ve never met any of them.
“I’d like to speak to any of those on top of the list. You know, the ones that all of you keep reminding me to be as good as.”
“They’re currently unavailable as far as I know.”
“The ones announced today?”
The supervisor turned bright red. “Any more questions will result in time being added to your work commitment.”
“You’re fucking pathetic.”
***
I’ve realized something. The charade, all of it has been for one purpose.
Me.
It’s the only way I can make sense of it. I’ve never seen anybody as good at what I do as me. That’s why they need me to keep doing it. I know I’m dangerous. I know how powerful I am. I can feel it. I wonder if they know too.
I’m sure a lot of what I’ve been told has been true, but there have been alternative motives. One of which is to keep me busy. But busy from wh
at? Probably from destroying anybody or anything that crosses my path.
I’ve often wondered how powerful I actually am. It feels like I’m wearing a shirt that’s too small for me, like it’s made of tissue, and all I have to do is flex and I’ll destroy it. Except I’ve never flexed, and I’m a little afraid to. That’s what this facility feels like to me, and I’m growing stronger every day.
ENTRY 17
A few days later there was a knock at my door before I even went to work. When I opened it, it was Rabin.
“Hey, Trent. How are you?” Before I could answer he cut me off. “Heard you have some questions.”
I shook his hand. “I do, Mr. Rabin.”
“Call me Brian.”
“I was told you wouldn’t be able to make it.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Pointing to a chair, he said, “Can I sit?”
“Go ahead. I’ve been told that any unnecessary questions will result in more time added—”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. That’s usually the case, and true, but when it comes to the safety of our personnel, certain rules can be temporarily vetoed. I’ve sent a memo up top about that policy. It isn’t for you personally, it’s for the majority. It’s tough down here. I don’t have to tell you that. Imagine how much time management has to spend addressing personal issues for its employees, though. Too much. Getting that policy changed will make it simpler in the future and won’t make it necessary to do what I’m doing for you now. Not that you aren’t worth my time, but tending to personal issues overall, I mean. You understand, right?”
“Sure.”
He was droning on in a creative way. He was here because they were afraid. My sense that Facility Three wasn’t all that it seemed was obvious. They were hiding something. Though I didn’t give any hint of how I felt, I felt my anger building.
“We need all personnel working at optimum capacity. There’s a lot going on up top.”
His smile made me want to punch him. “Is your work commitment complete?”
“Nearly. A few months away.”
I wanted to see his reaction.
“I was told that you were done.”
“Well, turned out there was a paperwork mishap. Just my luck, right? So a few more months.”
“Do I have any time added to my work commitment, even with all of the threats?”
“No.”
“Is Sandra ever going to visit me again?”
“No. Her work commitment is over. She’s up top. It’s entirely up to you to find her once you’re up there, too. Not our concern.”
He wasn’t being completely truthful. His eyes widened a little as he spoke, and it looked like he was trying not to blink. It was all part of his act.
“Will I be able to leave once my work commitment is over?”
“Yes! Of course you will. I don’t have the exact date offhand, but I remember it as a few days past your thirtieth birthday. Just a few short years away. It’ll be here before you know it.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying. I wish you were here earlier, when I needed to talk to someone I could trust. Or, at least so I knew you were coming so I could write down questions I know I’m not thinking of now that will piss me off later for forgetting to ask them.”
“I got some time, and before I leave I’ll give you a contact number. It may take me a few days to get back to you; I’m very busy…or if you call at the end of the week, I’ll get back to you the following one, but I will get back to you. Your work is important to this company, Trent. More than you know.”
“I bet you say that to all they employees.”
“You’re damn right I do,” he said, and laughed.
“Could you send me my overall ranking throughout all facilities?”
“That isn’t something I can say for sure, or at all. But I’ll talk to my boss and see if I can have that data sent to you.”
“OK. Also, I’d like to see a graph showing the amount of energy I’ve produced.”
Rabin exhaled. “Do you mind if I ask why you want to know those things? They’re practically irrelevant. You’re helping the surface. Shouldn’t that be all that matters?”
“Is it too much to ask?”
“No, Trent, but it’s a pain in my ass. They’re real sticklers with info like that, but I’ll see what I can do. If you don’t receive that information, it isn’t because I forgot, it will be because I couldn’t get it.”
“You haven’t asked yet, yet you already assume the information won’t be available.”
“All of this information will be easier for you to retrieve once your work commitment is over. A lot of the energy is, at times, directed into the military, so some information needs to be classified.”
I didn’t know that.
“Is there anything else that you would like to know that I can help you with, Trent?”
It was annoying how much he said my name. It was like he was trying to be friendlier than he really was or wanted to be.
“Will Sandra marry?”
“How could we know that?” he barked. “I honestly have no idea. She doesn’t work for us anymore. Would you like us to send you someone else?”
I shook my head. No, of course I didn’t. I couldn’t imagine being with any other woman. I loved her.
Rabin started nodding impatiently. “Anything else, kid?”
“I can’t think of anything. I’ve already taken up a lot of your time. Thank you very much for stopping by. I truly appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.”
Before he left, Rabin left a contact number, as he said he would, and wrote “Brian R.” above it.
ENTRY 18
A few weeks have passed, and I still hadn’t contacted Rabin even though I had questions. I couldn’t be sure about what I believed anymore. Maybe those pills I’d taken for so long kept me a little more stable. Ever since I stopped taking them, my moods seem to spike up and then drop way down. My rage often keeps me up at night. It might even be better if I started taking those pills again.
Jerrol was at work today. I hadn’t seen him in months. The way he showed up was strange; he just sidled up next to me at the open workstation and started talking as if no time had passed. He wasn’t acting like himself. His attitude was gone. He seemed nervous as I listened to him go on and on about where he’d been working and his plans for what he was going to do once he got up top.
I simply listened, grunted, and nodded, just to keep him talking. Just so I could analyze him further. Whenever I looked him in the eyes, he looked away. The things he was saying seemed to be premeditated. When people speak normally, they’re usually so into what they’re saying that they don’t look at you. They look around, envisioning what they’re talking about. When people are thinking about what they’re saying, if they’ve prepared it, then eye contact doesn’t throw them off.
“You wish you were me, don’t you?” I said.
“What?”
Jerrol had been in the middle of some bullshit story. I stepped down from my workstation and slowly walked over to him. “I said…you wish you were me…don’t you.”
“Hey, man. Not so close, not so—”
“You learned things about me. Things I don’t even know. Can you even do what I do?”
The fear in Jerrol’s eyes and his slack mouth answered my question. He was losing it. He was having some sort of stress breakdown.
“What can you do?” I said. “Show me.”
He shook his head back and forth. He looked up. “He knows…help me!”
“Who are you talking to?”
“I uh—” Jerrol stepped down from his workstation and started toward the nearest management office. “It’s fine. Everything is fine.”
“Jerrol!”
He turned. We were never supposed to produce with our hands off the couplings. If any employee did then their work commitment would be for life. Except it was the only way to know.
“Show me this.”
My assumptions were correct. I’d been tricked. The other employees at the facility didn’t produce the power for the surface; I did. Just me. The others were only mimicking what I could do, including Jerrol. That’s why Rabin had been so eager to answer my questions. The company was trying to keep me distracted.
As Jerrol’s body hit the grating, I stood.
ENTRY 19
I was in a room answering questions from a man I’d never seen before. He was tall and old, probably in his late thirties. I knew I’d been right in my assumptions because the facility continued the charade. There were cameras all over, and they’d probably watched the footage before they’d decided how to deal with me. I wondered how many people were involved in those decisions. I was going along with it because I wanted answers. If I was dangerous why not just kill me? I needed to find out.
“So, then what happened?” he said.
“Jerrol said that everything was OK. I thought he was having a bathroom emergency or something, like he was about to shit himself.”
That part was true.
“What did you do after he fell?”
“Like everybody else, I ran over to see what was wrong when I saw that something very powerful had killed him.”
I let that last statement hang in the air, watching the old guy’s reaction. His eyes widened, but he was determined to continue his bullshit performance.
“What happened next?”
“None of management had showed up, so I pulled the fire alarm.”
“And that was when you went back to your room?”
“Yes. We were all told to go back to our rooms.”
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