The video message continued. “I know how addicted to Medieval Storyworld you are. Might even call the Arc season ‘The Slave and the Enslaver’ or some such thing. Next quarter you can purchase a subscription and watch your Orns star during your clubbing. It might be the last time you can afford to club. You only live once. Hit it hard.” The image slid his hand over a greasy double-chinned neck. “That is, if Nnect decides not to process you for your failures. I’ll message your Selfie the link to the new Tara show—is that what you liked to call her? Her pet name?”
“I’ll kill him,” David growled.
“Don’t use that word David. Killing isn’t a right employees have.” Manda wrapped her arms around his trembling shoulders.
“Enjoy your empty containment homes and your one-hour-a-week relationship—and oh yeah, never being able to buy yourself. I have the real thing.”
“Shut it off!” David screamed, frantically searching for the button, breaking out of Manda’s grasp.
“Orns understands that life isn’t just about the productivity you can input to society. Life is also about the pleasure you can have at the expense of others.”
“Where is the shutoff? Manda, help me. Stop it.” Hands lifted to his ears, blocking some of the speech.
“Hueeaho.” The fat face cackled. “The pleasure never ends when you’re in charge here. And who knows, maybe you’ll end up at Orns after you get fired from Nnect and rebranded by the only Major that will have a use for you—us at Orns.” The face time ended, and the projection blinked nothingness. Unexpectedly, the display reactivated, and the slimy face popped up again. “Maybe you’ll work for me. I pray to the stock luck that it will be so. I’ll be waiting.” And then it disappeared. “Waiting, waiting, waitinggg” echoed eerily around the room, making them shiver.
Frustration and fury filled his being, seeking to tear him open. Burst his tormented heart. “Why? Whyyy!” He shook. “I know I signed the slave release forms that tricked our team into letting the other managers take the human beings. But did I sign some documents even worse than that?”
“We have no way of knowing.” Manda pulled a tablet up, searching through documentation.
“Did I sign away Nnect secrets?” His heart seized as if a knife were going through it. What convicting documents and info have I given away? That must be what Grandpa Greg was talking about. What did I sign? “By the stock, this can’t get any worse.”
“Creativity is out the door. We need a CEO intervention.” He knew she was right. “What can we tell the QC officers now?” Manda asked, a look of frustration on her face.
“How? Why? Whaa…?” A gut-wrenching despair, an ache of vulnerability expanded in David’s already-burdened heart. The helplessness began to fan a flame of fear that transformed to an anger that surged up and filled his spirit. A deep hatred took him. “I’ll kill him.” The hatred was stronger than the brand, or fueled by it. He didn’t know. But it filled him as he contemplated eradicating another human-doing for the first time in his career.
From his trembling knees, he questioned the sources of the rage within him. Is it from being disregarded? From being snubbed by my Nnect team? Is it from the betrayal led by Grandpa Greg and followed by Crystal Ice and Steven Slayer? Is it the blatant violation of brand trade policy by Orns, Ssential, and Tertain against Nnect? Is it regret at my newly formed relationships and interest with Tara, Domin, and Frank being severed so abruptly and unexpectedly? David was unable to fully comprehend what irritated him so much, compounding into a muddle of spiteful thoughts.
“Grandpa Greg sent over a portion of the signed documents,” Manda informed him. Standing by her side, they shuffled through the digital treaties from the slave project.
“Grandpa Greg is mocking us,” David said bitterly.
“Look for a loophole in the agreement. Maybe we can save the project.”
“My career is lost,” David moaned; his life was over. “The CEO will sell me for losing Nnect property so unprofitably.” Zero-margin sales with a loss of three strategic managers and untold potential initiative gains lost to major competitors.
“Yeah, don’t tell that story. That is unacceptable.”
“Not in the mood for jokes.”
“David, be about doing. Stop guttering your mind.”
“It’s guttered, Manda.” Self-pity oozed from his words. Other thoughts stimulated his trepidations. The list of unforgivable actions was expanding. Through no fault of mine. Lies were easier to swallow than facts.
Against David’s will, an imaginary HR attorney read off the list of accusations. “David has beaten property of Nnect, Justin-89, and struck a blow against a prestigious manager, Grandpa Greg.”
The daymare continued. “Please, I was under an influence,” David pleaded, like a puttering beggar to the apparition.
“The HR court in his mind ignored him and read further: “This worthless employee was fascinated with a human being.” The words came out like a curse. “Subject Arc was her name.”
And David was convicted. Despite Doc Gus’s wise admonitions, David had wanted Tara almost as badly as he wanted Gayle. He told the HR court, “I didn’t want Tara thrown into Medieval Storyworld; I had other plans, profitable ones.” David thought about being in Medieval Storyworld: people fought wars and died there; it was a hard world. That world was for show property and not for real people. Plus, if Tara was in a show, then every other human-doing in Xchange could pay to see her. Not just David. David was an envious person.
The imaginary fantasy ended with the HR judge banging a fist on a red flashing Fire That Employee button.
“David, stop day reaming.” Manda shook him.
His eyes blinked, and he shuddered. The daymares sent his train of thought back to the dilemma with the CEO’s office. “Manda, I can’t stop it.” Shuddering shoulders. Hiccups of fear. He was incapable of halting the aggressive downward spiral of negativity. If the CEO’s human resources office found out about his newly formed regard and affection for the slaves, employee David-23 would be sold very rapidly. He might be denoted as unfit for even manual labor or abusive treatment projects. Sweat trickled down his flushed red face. His imagination augmented his fears. His palms trembled, then found and uncontrollably brushed back loose blond strands that dangled wildly over his sore eyes. He looked at his reflection in the glass wall.
“You look like an unkempt Orns relationship professional!” he condemned himself.
“David, relax. Who are you talking to?” Manda looked more concerned at the turn of dialogue.
Ignoring her, he screamed at his image. “Be honest, you are a mess!” David hadn’t thoroughly cleaned himself in the last three days. Furthermore, the self-induced pressure to hold together a disjointed leadership team had kept him working long hours. Fascination with his subjects and the growing sense of wanting to know more about Tri-Coalition had kept him up nights. Loneliness had given him nightmares. The image in the mirror was unkempt. His voice softened. His crazy, random self-dialogue continued. “You learned so much about their world. Of human beings. Those oddly free people. Heejee.” An uncontrollable giggling overtook him. People who were born unbranded. All of them. This world was full of strange ways of thinking, such as “Love is something you earn from another and do not buy.” Bizarre indeed, and grossly inefficient, if you asked David. He stopped giggling and straightened his back. Almost normal again.
“What should you do, David?” Manda tried to get him back on a logical track.
An idea took hold. “Manda, I think I need to just call the CEO and confess.” He was at a loss for ideas.
“No, no. They will flay you alive. I would know.” She had worked in the CEO’s office. “Don’t call just yet. They don’t ever need to know all the specifics if this gets fixed. You can find a way to get the slaves back.”
“Better they hear it from me than from another source.” Heartlessly, he reached out a hand toward a communication link. “It is done.” The sound escaped his
lips like a soul leaving a corpse. “It’s time to relinquish the struggle and make the phone call to the CEO’s secretary.” It was time to confess.
And then his hand brushed against a forgotten item resting on his desk. It was the marriage bracelet, a human being device. It was smooth and cold to the touch. He flicked off his screen and held the item in front of his piercing blue eyes, leaning back into his chair. It had been taken from Tara to be studied by the artifact division. She had requested it be brought to her in exchange for information.
“That artifact means a lot to Tara,” Manda said.
“It intrigued me,” David lied to Manda. He had stolen it to force Tara. “I spoke about this bracelet with Domin on several occasions, since Tara wouldn’t speak to me about it after…the incident.” An awkward gulp.
“It’s very ornately decorated.” Manda touched the silver bracelet. “A sign of her marriage agreement and commitment to her husband, correct?” Manda said.
David nodded. “When she requested the band be returned to her, she promised sharing more Tri-Coalition intelligence.” So they had shown it to her and demanded information as reimbursement for acquiescing to the request. “She didn’t give us anything useful.”
Manda nodded since she knew most of this.
“She spilled out a whole bunch of selfless and impractical methods of going about a relationship. It all sounded very unprincipled. Such ideas might work in her world, but not in this world of human-doings.”
Manda said something strange, “I wonder if we could learn something from them.”
Scoffing, he said, “Really, Manda? There is no way we could learn anything from them.” When David had told Tara about Gayle, she had berated him. “David, you must never require participation in a relationship. Just horrid. That’s no relationship.” What did she know? David had few experiences with women, and the first couple had gone poorly, but his relationship with Gayle was more secure thanks to PPRE.
“As if a mere human being such as yourself could know what is best!” David had explained to the woman. “If I released Gayle from the PPRE agreement, then some other guy could buy her relationship, or even worse, Gayle might choose another person and invest in a relationship. I’d be locked out! Not happening.”
“Don’t be an idiot, David. A relationship is not something to purchase. You need to repent and stop.”
“Repentance is weakness,” he had reminded her again. David wasn’t letting that happen. “I wasn’t birthed yesterday, Arc. The world doesn’t work that way.”
“Happiness in a relationship comes with mutual respect.” Tara had pressed her point.
“Happiness doesn’t come without hard work, status, and wealth. Love doesn’t just happen to you,” he had growled. “I paid for this right with the very currency of my future. Think of all the other things I could’ve invested in. What’s more ‘respectful’ than that? Love is as important to me as my own freedom. I put my money where my mouth was.”
“Oh, David.” Tara had failed to grasp the significance of his self-sacrifice. It had been frustrating. As David recalled the conversation, he thought about a specific from the conversation. Tara had hinted something about this marriage device that he now held.
David looked at the device with fresh eyes. “What did you say?” He tried to recall what it was. The answer evaded him.
“Who say?” Manda asked.
“Tara said something about this bracelet that might help us,” he answered.
Hurriedly, David turned on the recorded session to watch the interview footage. “Date and time were two days ago, ten a.m.” Tara was pacing back and forth as he sat in front of her; she had just made a bargain with him the day before. You tell me something, and I’ll tell you something. They were been sharing about government, social agendas, health care, birthing—and then relationships come up. She said she wanted her wedding band. David looked puzzled in the video. He demanded an explanation of this “wedding band.” She talked about her husband. What a man. She respected him. And she wanted to be with him. He was a missionary by choice, which was dangerous and risky business. He had inspired her father, upon his retirement, to join the missionary corps. Tara explained that she was a human rights advocate and lawmaker who spent some of her time working from the missionary village. This platinum bracelet was a physical symbol of their commitment, fidelity, and love. Odd words indeed. The silver bracelet could be worn on the wrist or ankle. The bracelet also had some other significance. David wanted to learn that significance.
David saw a hint of jealousy on his face when Tara talked about this man, Patrick. Jealousy should be added to PPRE, he thought. Oddly, there was no punishment for breaking this marriage contract that Tara spoke of. It was free choice. Free choice? No talk of social and career contracts or future development packages or initiatives were involved in these strange human being agreements. David wondered what held such a legally and spiritually frail agreement together through the rigors and demands of an effective career.
“Manda, Tara said something about this band. I can’t quite place my finger on it.” They watched the conversation and fast-forwarded the footage to the part about the band. Tara’s lips moved, and he froze the screen, suddenly intrigued, and replayed it.
Tara said, “If I choose to wear this band, then he will know where I am.” She paused. “He’ll sacrifice and pay anything to have me back, anything to have me safe.” David fixated on the “pay anything.”
“Listen to this, Manda!” Manda came over from the other desk, and he motioned to the footage. “This is the key!” He replayed the recording.
It was a long stretch. But he became animated. Hopefully excited. “Maybe she can communicate with her husband through the bracelet.” He stood and paced around the room. Maybe I can as well? He flipped the ring upside down and turned it all around, trying to identify a communication section. Nothing. He found nothing. Banging his hands down in frustration on the table, he frowned fiercely.
“We could check the test results for this device,” Manda suggested, pointing at a tab on the screen.
“Brilliant.” David skimmed through his digital files to the artifact inspection team’s annals. He found the platinum band on the list. He read, “Initial scan for exterior weaponizing means complete.” He waved the device in the air. “It seems this bad boy hadn’t gone through the full interior technology testing.”
Manda looked askance at David and said, “It also appears that the device went missing before the testing was completed. Stolen, perhaps?”
“Nothing found has been stolen.” Embarrassed to be caught in a lie, he coughed awkwardly and turned red in the face.
“You borrowed it?” She stressed the words.
“Well, it wasn’t entirely missing. Simply misplaced. I borrowed it without letting anyone know.” He pushed away from his desk to grab an energy gel pack as he mused.
“I’m concerned about all your off-putting behavior, David.” She checked his heart rate and said, “You seem to have stabilized. Don’t have a seizure on me.” She reassured herself that his vitals were stable, then drifted serenely out of the room, and he was alone.
“Yes, we should test this marriage band thing.” Adrenaline and hope began to build inside him. Maybe he could find a way to communicate with Tara’s husband and make Tri-Coalition pay to cover damages. “Maybe something is inside the band and the technology team can help.” He said, tapping the device on his desk thoughtfully. David could broker an agreement with Tri-Coalition to buy back the slaves. “Or maybe I can trick more human beings into coming to Xchange, and he increase the testing opportunities for Lave Labs.” He liked that idea too. Tara had said that her husband would pay anything. He must be wealthy. That payoff could save David and reimburse Nnect. This money could buy him the time needed to bring the other members of his team to QC for corporate fraud or maybe brand dilution.
Running into the artifact lab, he looked around for someone to help. “Anyone home?” There w
as no one around the testing table and computers. Then his frazzled mind recalled his order. “By the stock, why did I let them all go?” It would take hours to assemble scientists. In a fit, he threw the artifact down on the observation table.
“Manda, do you know how to work this machine?” He forgot she was gone. “Manda-18!” he yelled even louder in desperation, hoping that she wasn’t too far. David childishly refused to explain his idea to the computer prompter when it asked if it could assist him. He scowled at the computer.
Maybe the device can emit a radio signal, David thought. So he took it off the observation table and connected a radio wire to the band. It beeped, and some static started to buzz at an unknown frequency from the transmitter portion of the computer. David tried to find a wavelength that didn’t buzz loudly. The computer searched for a signal source that it could send messages to. His insufficient training on these devices began to show and made him frustrated.
“Work, you stupid machine! Find someone to talk to. Like you’re supposed to!” He banged the table. A scratch and then a crack formed on the surface as he hit it. He hit it again even harder. The desk shattered into a million pieces of tiny glass. He paused, his hands high above his head, ready to strike again. Bits were stuck into his flesh. David never hurt or broke company property, as a rule. Now in one day he had struck an employee and a manager and hit a computer. It was disgraceful.
“Why all the yelling, David?” David turned to see Manda standing at the door. “I am worried about you. What are you trying now?”
He lashed out at his only support. “Why are you still here, Manda? You should be out developing yourself like I told the rest of the team to do. Go away. Leave me in my failure.”
“David, I have nowhere else to go. This is my home. Where do you want me to go?” She didn’t budge. “I called your Mindmonk.”
“You did what?” he gasped.
“I fear for you. I called Doc Gus, because you’re losing yourself. Look at you. When have you ever punched and damaged company property? When have you promised to kill another? When have you ever, ever let any of this happen?” She waved around the empty room.
A Tale Of Doings Page 44