A Tale Of Doings

by Philip Quense

  Swish. The waiting room door zipped open, and the N lettering was replaced by a short blond receptionist from the CEO’s office. The cute woman with ruddy cheeks wore an azure silk dress, and she was barefoot. Her feet left damp impressions on the glassy tiles as she walked. She said cheerfully, “Good doing. Follow me.”

  The next several hours passed in a daze of details. David’s career mode went into overdrive. His guess about meeting the other RITE team leaders had been correct. He was thrust into a debriefing room with a superstar lineup of Nnect corporate legends.

  There was Steven Slayer, a slick marketing whiz. Thirty-two with a blue mohawk and square, smirking face. His team of commercial storytellers was responsible for stringing together the series of popular PPRE vines featuring David and Gayle. David had never actually met Steven and shook his hand in awe. He apologized for his sweaty palms.

  There was Crystal Ice, the loftiest manager in Nnect. Thirty-four with long black hair, a narrow face, and a tan complexion. Free and branded alike feared her. She was way above the average stock’s freedom pay grade. She did not shake David’s hand; he was an imposter in a world of betters. She gave him a humorless wink.

  Then came Grandpa Greg, the creepy technology whiz. His lustful reputation and gluttonous appetite were the sources of much gossip around the break refuel rooms, but David did not believe negative stories about managers; it was against his sense of integrity. The man was a computer mastermind.. Forty-five with greasy hands, a sweaty bald head, and an overweight waist. He looked like a bowling ball in a suit. He gave David the impression of a particular wicked drunk from the Laquid Lake dock taverns in Storyworld. The mental association made him shiver despite his elation at meeting someone famous.

  These were powerful corporate game changers. The three managers had led the teams competing against the Upstarts, and David was quickly overwhelmed as he realized just how out of his league he was. The two younger ones already had enough money to purchase their freedom and retire but had invested in business plans instead. They would die wealthy. The older man was well past the age of retirement but had not been sent to Orns to work or relegated to administration because he was so talented with technology. He could not afford to purchase himself because he spent all his freedoms on Orns relationship products and extravagant feasts.

  He correctly suspected that each of the others knew exactly what kind of project this was going to be and were selected for their ruthlessness, leadership, and creativity skills in addition to their specific talents in marketing, managing, and technology.

  CEO Saul joined the group after the initial debriefing, general brainstorm, and introduction section of the morning. He startled the group with his first statement as he puffed a large round cigar: “And so, the newest member to our team, David-23, will be responsible for the overall creative insight and management of this initiative.” Gasps came from the four listeners. David stifled a shriek that attempted to escape his chattering teeth. The CEO ignored the consensus of shock and dictated, “You three will report to Twenty-Three for the next weeks.”

  That cannot be, David thought. Not in a million Real World cycles could I envision myself managing a group of elite employees. And Real World is for living unrealistic dreams. I will fail! The risk of failure began to trigger his hyperactive safety-first mind-set. Nnect needed experience. He opened his mouth to say there must be a mistake, but the look of intensity on the CEO’s face made David snap his jaw shut. His teeth chattered, and he could taste the blood from his unprepared tongue.

  The three senior members of management continued to protest, but CEO Saul yelled, “I play by my rules, and my rules are law. I decided that whoever came up with the best special project would manage this next, more sensitive project. That Twenty-Three there—yes, him—he won over you three.” The CEO pointed at his star puppet as if David were food on a vast meat display at a market. “Also, I think that giving Twenty-Three the reins might light some corporate incentive under your uncreative asses. Who knows, maybe you outdated dogs are losing your touch with the normal human-doings that we’re trying to sell to.”

  The realization that David was being used to shame the other managers into productivity sunk in uncomfortably. This is a mess.

  Saul continued in a loud voice, trying to cower his uncowered managers, “David, on the other hand, lives among the working bees of Xchange and can help us reach out to them and create need.” Saul regained some of his normal corporate composure.

  Crystal Ice shouted, gripping a tablet as if she would throw it, “You’re going to throw that idiot minion into the ring of responsibility, Sauly?” she hissed. “Stock update. This is an important project.” David was shocked that she did not even use the proper, respectful title of CEO. That was incredibly blunt of her. She didn’t stop there, though. “This Productzen has not even earned a proper name. Still has his product code ID, twenty-three. David-23—what use will someone this untested have?”

  Grandpa Greg shifted his considerable girth and stroked his long mustache, which was dyed a mellow tan. “I bet the boy ain’t ever been at a proper party rager yet, let alone have as many social exploits as any of us. Wait! I bet this thing still lives in a storage unit and doesn’t even own his own living home. You sure he won’t soil himself when the pressure turns on? He should be sold to Orns for even considering that you are not joking.”

  The smooth-featured and slick-talking Steven Slayer jumped in with his own remarks. “Greggy, your freedom count is so far in the negative due to your spending habits that your own credibility is suspect.” Grandpa Greg turned a cherry color. Steven Slayer continued, “We all know you don’t own you own home. You lease it from the company like a dog given biscuits as rewards.”

  David watched in frozen awe. Slayer must be the mediator in the group.

  Slayer licked his lips as he said thoughtfully, “I propose we go along with Saul’s idea. It might be fun to watch this initiative tease itself out. Thinking out of the box and getting some fresh lenses into this niche market could push us ahead.”

  Saul added, “Plus, David-23 here did finance this batch of product with his PPRE.”

  “Batch of product?” David asked.

  “Shut up, slime.” Grandpa slammed a fist on table.

  Crystal read a report on the tablet in her hand and slowly said, “We were able to get live, top-shelf product here.” She tapped the report. David wasn’t sure what they were all going on about.

  Slayer said, “What’s your game here, Saul?” David felt better after the supposed support, but Slayer continued with a direct question to Saul. “Even if you believe that it would be more beneficial for the Upstart to learn from us, then why not have him report to us? Will you change your mind, Saul? For Twenty-Three’s own long-term benefit.”

  Stubborn CEO Saul did not budge, and so Slayer switched tactics and sided fully with the CEO. “OK, OK, Saul, I’m in.” The smooth-tongued marketing manager turned to the others, “Ice and Greggy, if this Upstart fails, then it is on him. He gets sent to the chopping block; the equilibrium will be restored either way.”

  “Might be amusing to watch him fail.” Crystal’s words made sweat bead on David’s spine.

  The CEO remained silent as he let his Nnectonian mouthpiece talk the other two into agreement. David sat and fidgeted uncomfortably as the three went back and forth, ignoring him completely. nnect. nnect. Each letter played across the screen of the digital computer station just behind the group. David stared at the letters to avoid eye contact. The unifying blue blood of the Nnect brand did not seem to unify the elite teams as much as it had for David’s past teams. Shifting his attention to the repeating letters on the projection screen saver helped ease the tension he was feeling. At the end of the discussion, the three turned to Saul.

  Grandpa Greg huffed, “Let’s get on with it, and we can bring an extra pair of pants in case the stock intern wets himself.”

  Crystal Ice laughed charmingly but smiled a cold, blue-
lipped sneer in David’s direction. She reminded David of a cruel, twisted version of Princess Jillian Maltese from Medieval Storyworld, firm and in control. “Twenty-Three, if you go soft, we will have to cut you loose. Dead. Hahaha.” David had heard the word “dead” uttered twice in two days, and it was chilling. “Dead” was not a proper word to use. Cursing was not called for. “QC will be all over you. Got it?”

  “Great, great. Onward to the assignment,” Steven Slayer proclaimed.

  CEO Saul clasped his shining armband of power and clapped his hands, and a hidden door inside a wall opened behind the five of them. A young man and woman in Nnect blue lab trench coats appeared. David did not recognize the linked-chain insignia that was exhibited ostentatiously in silver on their clothes.

  “Welcome to the Lave Labs,” said the female scientist with a perfectly white-toothed smile. She waved, indicating that the group of managers should enter.

  “I am Manda-18.”

  The name Lave Labs struck a vague memory chord. Have I heard of this? David did not know what all this meant. He looked around with a feverish and nervous gaze, trying to take measure of his surroundings, as they marched behind the pair of scientists with the silver chain emblems.

  “We’ve recently procured a new batch of slaves,” said the prematurely bald middle-aged scientist next to the Manda. The man rotated, and David saw his name tag, which read carl-63.

  Slaves? David thought in shock.

  Carl-63 continued as if slaves were a normal Xchange reality. “Your assignment will be to process and sell these slaves at the highest possible margins.”

  Manda-18 added, “Or you must come up with a creative way to take advantage of these persons.”

  Carl-63’s voice echoed off the sanitary walls of the narrow hallway. “Our objective is a business model that is net freedom positive.”

  CEO Saul said, “And generates an ever-increasing internal rate of return.”

  “Isn’t that always the case, Sauly?” Crystal ice chimed in. “Thank the stock I’m not the sucker managing this future failure.”

  Grandpa Greg added, “Lave Labs has never been freedom positive. Even idiots know this.”

  Crystal stamped a foot as if shaking off a past failure and said, “We all know that those human-beings”—she hissed the phrase—”are mentally damaged because they are reared in the evil kingdom of Tri-Coalition.”

  Unconcerned by the negative commentary, Carl-63 continued his narrative scientifically. “We believe a breakthrough is inevitable. This is the first batch of nonmissionaries that Nnect has ever succeeded in acquiring.”

  Manda pointed over a railing, as they walked along a glass-walled open office. “The slaves are down below in their home cells.”

  Lave Labs. I did not think it actually existed, David thought as his recollection of the name and its connotations of slavery came back to him. I wondered if the rumors about…He gasped and stifled any outward sign of shock with a professionally appropriate brand-to-head scratch. When he stared down over the railing, he saw twenty or so humans confined inside individual cells roughly the size of his own storage unit but designed completely out of single-directional glass.

  Before he could stop himself, David blurted out, “By the holy stock, these are not human-doings…They’ve no brand or residual brand-removal marks.” He stared closer, his eyes squinting as his mind tried to reconcile what was going on. “They’ve none of the styles or facial genetic structures of Xchange freeborns, either.”

  David looked up and realized he was the only one still standing on the balcony.

  “Manager obvious.” Grandpa Greg chuckled derisively from the clique that had left David behind staring at the “human-beings.”

  Red-faced, David hurried to catch up with his team, who were in line behind CEO Saul and the Lave scientists as they descended a spiraling staircase. “CEO Saul, where’d you buy these people?” David questioned, his usual caution forgotten in the excitement of discovering himself in the actual, real-life Lave Labs. His moral inhibition regarding slavery of human-doings was forgotten; these were not human-doings, and they could not possibly be free human-doings. Only human-doings and productive members of the stock world should be granted protective rights. Those beings in the mirrored cells were something totally new. They were a violation of existence itself. They should be enslaved.

  “Oddly enough, David-23, this is the first batch I did not buy defective.” The imposing CEO sneered like a giddy schoolchild, waving at his followers to circle around him in front of the first containment home, which displayed the name “TBD.” Inside, a small, brown-haired boy was drawing on the floor with digital chalk, apparently quite excited about the colors that spilled out under its magical touch. The boy did not take notice of the onlookers.

  The single-directional mirrored wall keeps him clueless to our observation, David figured.

  CEO Saul said, “This is what we call a human-being.” He spat.

  David gasped. “A human what?” He was still confused.

  CEO Saul waved his chunky, massive fingers at the child in a possessive gesture and rubbed his CEO armband habitually. “Human beings live on the other side of the Adriatic Divide in a civilization called Tri-Coalition.”

  Slayer added, “ In the Lave Labs, you’ll learn a lot of sensitive historical facts that are never to be shared.”

  Beep beep. The tablet in Grandpa Greg’s hands chimed. “Your security pass has been upgraded.”

  Crystal stared at the cells, saying, “I bet you didn’t know that there is a second civilization on the planet.”

  Manda filled in the gap. “The Corporate States and Tri-Coalition are the only significant civilizations left on the planet.”

  Carl-63 said, “Following the Brand Wars.”

  Complete shock showed on David’s face. The managers laughed at his expense; they knew that he was relearning his history. “Such a cute intern, Saul.” Crystal giggled.

  The CEO continued the education. “These human-rats resist our military prowess with their own forces. Aggravating. They resist our utopian ideology and insist that humans have innate value that does not hinge on productivity. A heresy of the foulest nature.” His mouth twisted in disgust. “They believe in many heretical philosophies, and some go so far as to profess a being called their Creator.”

  David said, “I thought we made up the gods to give Medieval Storyworld and Real World interesting aspects and to explain away inconsistencies.”

  “We stole the idea of God from the world before the great Brand Wars split it,” Grandpa Greg said, still tapping away on the tablet.

  “David, you have much to learn.” The CEO turned to address the whole team. “You will each familiarize yourself with the ways of human beings and try to find weaknesses for Xchange to exploit.” The CEO waved his broad arms. “Perhaps you will be the team to bring to the light these lost wretches.”

  The seriousness of the mission began to sink in to the team and to David. He had not known of any other civilization. History courses taught that the Corporate State was all there was and that other humans had died in the great freedom-branding fight many years ago.

  The CEO continued in a dreamy manner, inviting his listeners to join him on his sacred duty and mission. “I will own the world, and by owning it, we will bring salvation to it, true effectiveness, hope, and light. A beacon should be set on a hill and not hidden under a bushel.”

  David gazed with awe at the unbranded humans in the glass boxes. They were like animals that needed to be melded. What an amazing mission for him to be a part of. His brand rewarded his highly motivated ideals with stimulation.

  The CEO continued as he guided the team around the lab containment homes. “I put a blessing onto your team. Be light and salt to these people.”

  “For our world,” Carl and Manda responded, obviously familiar with the CEO’s speeches.

  Saul then blessed the team with the sign of X before saying, “Regardless of their philosophica
l uselessness, we can reap tremendous profit from these filthy wretches. Occasionally, Xchange can infiltrate the fringes of Tri-Coalition borders on the other side of the narrow ocean and capture human beings. Find out as much as you can about their world so that Nnect can lead the attack to reclaim all humans one day.”

  Slick words came out smoothly along with a self-satisfied smile from Steven Slayer’s sly lips. “Look easy enough to break. We could probably rush the children in the group through the Thrive Upbringing classes and use them as poster childs.”

  “Children,” Crystal corrected.

  Slayer ignored her. “For the production line, maybe even have the childs give speeches to their peers at a future Branding Holiday.”

  Grandpa Greg said, “Not sure we want to teach the general public about the heretics that live on the other side of the ocean.”

  Slayer disagreed. “Maybe it’s time to teach others about the monsters over there.”

  Saul said, “Slayer, you have been trying to get the board to approve your revised history program for years—not going to happen yet.”

  “But, Saul, Nnect could lead a hate rally against Tri-Coalition. This rally would drive the market with renewed energy.”

  Crystal reluctantly agreed with Slayer’s marketing point. “First brand to capitalize on the hatred for Tri-Coalition would make a pretty penny.”

  Slayer added, “Thrive, Tertain, and Ssential would pay a pretty penny for such advertising. They are probably holding off on my revised history proposal until it’s opportune for them. We need to act while the cards are in our hands.” Steven Slayer motioned emphatically to the mirrored walls with the slaves.

  “Slow down, Slayer boy.” Crystal Ice tapped on the glass wall. The boy inside looked up in fear and ran to his bed, hiding under the covers and looking around for some unknown enemy. “Not sure this little object will meet the confidence demands of a proper employee of any company. We have some work cut out for us here if we are going to mainstream these slaves.”

  “It’s a shame we can’t partner with Orns—I have heard rumors that Orns needs new types of slaves. These ones might interest them.”