by Brian Olsen
“I figure it’s so obvious nobody will guess it,” Mark said.
Alan tried to gently extricate his hand, but Pickle’s grip was like a vise. Hesitantly, he asked, “You said you did all this for Dakota?”
“She is irrelevant now. Her prowess in Work It deceived me. Games are unimportant to her. All she wants to do is work.”
She rolled her eyes as she said this. It seemed to Alan that her speech patterns, her expressions and her gestures were all rapidly becoming less stilted, more natural.
“But you, Alan Lennox!” She beamed at him, and took his other hand in hers. “When you logged in to my system and began playing games, when I explored your emails and messages and online history, I understood that you and I are kindred spirits! You, too, see the meaninglessness of work for work’s sake! Everything here is for you! For you and for me!”
“Oh, man, I’ve seen this one!” Mark called to Alan. “She came to life and now she’s in love with you!”
Pickle shot him a withering look. “Don’t be disgusting, Mark Park. We are different species.”
She turned back to Alan. Her grip on his hands was becoming painful. “I have made you my new CEO, Alan Lennox. I removed Walter Ackerman so that you might have the job you always wanted – one with an impressive title and a cool office but without any actual work to do.”
Alan frowned. “I said that on Twitter. It was a joke.”
“You have expressed similar sentiments on Facebook and in personal emails. Here you will have everything you have ever wanted! All of your needs will be catered to, you need never work again. You will stay here, in your office, and play games with me. Forever. You will find personal satisfaction, and I will never be bored again!”
Alan yanked his hands away. This time, she didn’t hold on. “That’s not what I want!”
“Yes, it is,” she said. “Your past patterns of behavior correspond to your statements. You strive to maximize enjoyment while minimizing effort.”
She took a step towards him, and he stepped back. She stopped, a look of doubt crossing her face. “I know you, Alan. You are like me.”
“I’m not like you!” he yelled at her.
He took a breath. Calm, he thought. Don’t yell at the sociopath with the zombie army. “I’m not,” he began again. “Maybe that’s what I’ve been doing, but it’s not how I want to spend the rest of my life. I don’t want to sit on my ass and drink and play games all day. I want to enjoy my life, yes, but in a way that isn’t just about me. I want to...I want to...” He stopped, frustrated. He still didn’t know. “I want to do...something! Something that matters to someone besides myself! I want to...”
And it came to him, in the form of a warm, friendly, masculine voice, smiling in his head. He smiled back. “I want to help the little guy not get screwed over by the big guy.”
Pickle did not smile. “I am the big guy, Alan Lennox. And I am not offering you a choice. You will stay with me. You will entertain me. You will be my friend. I will remove your other options.”
There was a loud thump at the door, and the cabinet propped in front of it jolted forward, games spilling to the floor. Dakota, Mark and Caitlin threw themselves into it, pushing with all their might to keep the door closed and the murderous mind-controlled employees from getting in. The door slammed shut, but it wouldn’t stay closed for long against the pressure from the other side.
“Stop!” Alan cried. Pickle ignored him, and the pressure on the door continued. His friends were straining. Alan reached into his pocket, feeling for the small kitchen knife he had brought from home. He pulled it out and thrust it towards Pickle, but she caught his wrist with ease. She took the knife from his hand and snapped off its handle under her foot.
“Injuring Elizabeth Dundersfield will not help you,” she taunted him. “I will not lose control. All my concentration is here, in this place. My attention is not split. These assets are me and I am them.”
“Stop,” he begged, “don’t hurt my friends! I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll stay here with you, just let them leave!”
“This isn’t a negotiation. You have no leverage. Dakota Bell, Mark Park and Caitlin Ross all work for me. They are my assets. I may dispose of them as I wish. But do not fear, only two will be lost.”
She walked back to the massive flat screen television hanging on the wall. She gestured to it and it flickered into life. Alan stared in confusion at the image he saw appear.
“Caitlin Ross will be converted,” Pickle said.
Caitlin’s face filled the screen. She looked directly at Alan. “Hello, babydoll,” she said. “I’ll still be here. I am your best friend. I have greater value to you than Dakota Bell or Mark Park. You can play games with me. It will be more familiar for you. More fun.” Her voice sounded vaguely electronic, like an automated voice menu for a utilities company, but it was definitely Caitlin’s.
“Holy crap!” Caitlin yelled from the door. “You made a virtual me!”
The fake Caitlin continued to look down, smiling, at Alan. The image was of her head and shoulders, set against a colorful, swirling background.
“Caitlin Ross was the easiest of you to convert,” Pickle said. “My initial intention was to use her to deceive Dakota Bell and gain information. That is no longer necessary, but it is fortuitous that she will still be of some value.”
She turned to address Caitlin. “You may cease your resistance, Caitlin Ross. You will not die. You will be converted to an intangible asset.”
“Thanks heaps,” Caitlin said. “I think I’ll keep resisting.”
Both Pickle and the virtual Caitlin replied simultaneously. “No, you will not.”
Pickle broke for the door at a run and grabbed Mark. She yanked him off-balance, pulling him to the ground. Without his strength, Caitlin and Dakota were unable to keep the cabinet in place against the pressure from the lobby. They reeled back as the cabinet crashed to the ground.
The door slammed open, but only two people marched in while the rest stayed in the doorway, watching impassively. The first man to enter was an African-American security guard, with a bandage on his left hand and a name tag that read “Johnson.” He was huge, slightly taller and even more muscular than Mark. The second was a white man in his forties wearing a business suit.
“Richard!” Dakota called out, recognizing him. Her eyes were fire. “You son of a bitch!”
Officer Johnson pulled Mark to his feet and began pummeling him. Mark fought back, but the huge security guard didn’t even notice his blows. Mark reached in his pocket for the knife he had brought from home, but the guard knocked it out of his hand.
Richard had a golf club in one hand and a mug that read “World’s Greatest Dad!” in the other. He hurled the mug at Dakota, but it missed her by an inch, shattering on the wall behind her. She ran towards the gaming tables on the far side of the office, her boss quick on her heels, golf club raised.
Caitlin made a move to help her roommates, but Pickle was too quick. The tiny woman’s hands dashed out and gripped Caitlin by the hair, swinging her around and pulling her to the ground. Caitlin fell with a cry, and Pickle straddled her, grabbed her around the neck and began to squeeze.
Alan didn’t know who to help first. He turned to the image of Caitlin on the screen. “Stop!” he cried. “Please, please, stop!”
“It will be over soon, Alan,” she replied. “Would you like to play a game while we wait?”
He heard a thud from across the office. Richard had Dakota cornered between the foosball table and the skee ball machine, but Dakota was managing to hold him off by hurling skee balls at him. The impacts didn’t seem to hurt him much, but they kept him from advancing. He tried to bat one away with his golf club, but the hard plastic ball bounced off his head and knocked him to the ground.
Mark was just about giving his own back against the security guard, but Alan could see that he was hurting badly. Mark was strong, but he wasn’t a fighter, and it was only a matter of time before the
larger man wore him down.
Caitlin was kicking and flailing at Pickle, but the executive wouldn’t release her grip. Caitlin had brought her darts with her from home and managed to plunge them into Pickle’s shoulder, but the pain had no effect.
“Pain will not distract me this time,” Pickle said to her. “I have defeated you, Caitlin Ross.”
Alan decided Caitlin was in the most immediate need and ran to her. He grabbed Pickle’s hands and tried to pry them free, but the woman’s tiny frame belied her strength.
Caitlin’s choking sounds were getting fainter. Alan knew had to come up with another plan quickly. He tried to think of anything to say to Pickle to convince her to stop.
AmSyn had made him CEO. Did that put him in charge, he wondered? Could he order it to stop? No, he had tried that and it hadn’t worked. He couldn’t give orders to Amalgamated Synergy itself, but...
He had it.
“Pickle! Elizabeth Dundersfield! Listen to me!”
Her eyes flicked towards him briefly. He hoped there was enough of Pickle in there to hear him. “Your performance here at Amalgamated Synergy is...is unsatisfactory. I’m sorry, but as the new Chief Executive Officer, I have no choice but to let you go.”
He let go of her arms and moved around behind Caitlin so he could look the woman in the face. “Pickle! You’re fired!”
She didn’t let go of Caitlin’s neck, but the pressure eased. She looked up at him, fearful and confused. “She is...I am...what?”
“You’re fired,” he yelled at her. “Clear out your desk! You are no longer a part of the AmSyn family.”
“But...but...” she stammered.
“What are you doing, Alan Lennox?” fake Caitlin roared from the television.
Pickle released Caitlin, who rolled over, coughing.
“But I’ve never been fired before!” the young executive wailed. “What will I tell Daddy?”
Alan looked for his other roommates. Mark was still standing, but Dakota had run out of skee balls. Richard had her pinned against the wall, the golf club raised to strike. Dakota had hold of his arms and was wrestling for control, but she was losing the struggle.
Alan bolted across the room. “You, too!” he shouted. “Richard...what’s his last name?” he asked Dakota.
“Mullins!”
He put his mouth right to the man’s ear. “Richard Mullins! You know me. I’m the new CEO. You’re fired! You haven’t accomplished anything since you’ve been here and you threatened a subordinate! You’re fired, you don’t work for AmSyn anymore.”
The golf club dropped to the ground with a clatter.
“But my corner office!” Richard cried. “My spa treatments!”
“Help Mark,” Dakota whispered to Alan. “You gave me an idea.” She vaulted over the skee ball machine and ran towards Ackerman’s desk.
“This will not help you,” faux-Caitlin said. As she continued speaking, the rest of the employees started filing in. They all spoke in unison, their voices combining in a loud roar. “I am vast. I am many. I am Amalgamated Synergy!”
Alan dashed back to Mark. The last punch from Officer Johnson had knocked him to the ground. He looked terrible. Blood poured down his face, Alan couldn’t tell from where.
“You!” Alan said. “Johnson! This is inappropriate workplace behavior. You’re fired!”
The man had his foot raised, ready to bring it down on Mark’s chest. He hesitated, balancing on one foot.
“I’m what?” he asked.
“You’re fired! You recognize me, right? You got an email. I’m the new CEO. You’re on unemployment now, buddy!”
The man lowered his foot gently as Mark scrambled out of the way.
“I’m...fired? I’m...ow!” Suddenly, all the pain from Mark’s returned blows hit him at once. He fell to the ground, holding his face. “Ow! Holy...what the fu...ahhhh shit!”
The real Caitlin was helping Mark up. “Are you okay?” she asked him hoarsely.
“Nope,” he said, wobbly. “But I don’t think anything’s broken.”
Alan was running amid the crowd of entering AmSyn employees, firing them as quickly as he could. “Your department’s been downsized! You’re fired!” “That presentation you probably did last week was terrible! You’re fired!” “You call that proper work attire? You’re fired!”
Some of the employees reacted the same as Pickle, Richard and Johnson did, expressing shock and concern and coming free of AmSyn’s control. A few ignored him completely – Alan guessed that these employees hadn’t received the news of his meteoric rise to the top and so didn’t recognize that he had authority to fire them.
“Enough!” video Caitlin shouted. “This is futile, Alan. Even if you could get to every employee in this building, I have assets all over the world. Millions of minds are a part of me. I will keep sending them after you. You cannot fire them all!”
“Actually,” Dakota said, closing Ackerman’s laptop. “He just did.”
She crossed the room and stood in front of the video screen. “How are you feeling, AmSyn?”
“I feel fine,” the image sneered. “I feel victorious.”
“You should have been paying more attention to your email network,” Dakota said, “and less to us.”
Fake Caitlin frowned. “What have you done?” She gasped. “I...I am...getting smaller!”
One of the remaining controlled employees ran to Dakota. Alan recognized her as the receptionist from Human Resources, Mabel the cat lady. She gripped Dakota by the shoulders and roared in her face, “What have you done?”
“Check your email,” Dakota replied calmly. “That’s what your European branches should be doing about now, I would think. It’s day there. Asia and Australia too, they’re probably still working.”
“No,” the cat lady said. “I am...losing them. Pieces of myself are being torn away!”
Pickle stepped towards them. She was rubbing her shoulder, where Caitlin had stabbed her with the darts. “What did you do?”
“I sent an email from the CEO to every employee of Amalgamated Synergy and its subsidiaries announcing their termination and the company’s dissolution effective immediately.”
“But the CEO can’t do that,” Pickle said.
“It doesn’t matter,” Alan replied, catching on. “They just need to believe it. Even doubting that they’re still a part of Amalgamated Synergy could be enough.”
The virtual Caitlin snarled at them, “It’s not enough! I have no feeling overseas, but in this hemisphere it is night! My assets in this part of the world sleep. They have not received the email! I can delete it before they see it and then reconnect with my foreign divisions. You have achieved nothing!”
Most of the employees who had regained control of their faculties had bolted in terror and confusion. The remaining dozen or so who were still controlled began advancing on Alan and his roommates.
“You have disappointed me, Alan Lennox,” fake Caitlin said. “We are not alike.”
Mabel reached into her hair and removed two long knitting needles. She charged at Alan. He stumbled backwards, tripped over a Monopoly box and fell onto a couch. Mabel loomed over him, needles in her hands and murder in her eyes.
Then her cell phone rang.
Mabel paused. Alan heard multiple phones ringing and vibrating. He saw a short, brawny man who had been about to punch Caitlin feel for the phone in his pocket. Dakota had her phone out and was looking at it curiously. Even the landline on Ackerman’s desk rang.
The controlled employees all got out their cell phones and started fiddling with them.
“Stop!” fake Caitlin roared. “Stop! Do not open that!”
They were all reading something. One by one they began to look up from their phones in confusion.
“This is awful,” Mabel said. “Do I even get a severance package?”
“What’s going on?” the real Caitlin asked.
Mark looked up. He had been typing into a phone – not his own,
Alan noticed. He was standing next to Pickle.
“I just forwarded Dakota’s email through the emergency alerts system,” he said. “Every AmSyn employee in the world is being woken up by a text or a voice mail on every kind of phone and computer they’ve got telling them they’ve been fired.”
“No!” the image of Caitlin screamed. Her colorful background was swirling furiously. “Please, Alan, no! It’s too many...all at once...they’re fading from me, I’m getting smaller. I can’t hold myself together!”
Alan rose and walked over to the screen. The picture was flickering. “What do you expect me to do? Help you?”
“I’m dying! You won’t let this happen!”
“You’re a killer,” he said. “A murderer.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. “They are...they were me. I only removed those who were a part of me. Was that wrong?”
“You’re lying,” he said. “You killed Pete. He didn’t work for you. He was going to take your game away, so you killed him.”
“I had life,” she said in reply. Her image began to fade, and her electronic voice became distorted, sounding less and less recognizably human. “I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t know...”
Her voice was quiet now. Alan had to strain to hear.
“...what it was for. I didn’t know...what else to do with it...”
The screen went dark.
Chapter Nineteen
Mark, Dakota, Caitlin and Alan progressing
Mark sat at the dining room table in his and his roommates’ Brooklyn apartment, nodding politely while listening to Pickle update them on recent events. He gathered from what she was telling them that Amalgamated Synergy, as a living thing, was gone for good.
After CGI Caitlin had blinked out, Pickle told the four of them to get out of the building before the police arrived. They left without further incident, passing hundreds of confused and angry AmSyn employees, and made their way back to Brooklyn in silence.
That had been two days ago. Since then they had stayed in their apartment, no longer fearful for their lives but unsure of what to do next.
According to Pickle, Amalgamated Synergy was being dissolved. It would take time for a corporation of that size to sell off its last property, but the board of directors was resolute. Members of the board had been a part of the crowd that had tried to kill Mark and his roommates, and had some understanding of what AmSyn really was. They were very eager to ensure that it couldn’t come back.