A Tale Of Doings

by Philip Quense

  The pain forced him to forget everything else in his life except the sharp, piercing agony.

  “Warning! Warning!” A siren went off.

  As he flopped around on the floor, he didn’t notice the security warning speakers announcing that there was a severe security breach, which QC was on their way to fix. “QC notified. Response time pending.” He didn’t hear the warning that said, “Don’t run. Remain and wait.” The lab computers continued. “Detain this employee if you see him.” He didn’t see his face come up on the screens around him. Instead, he screamed in agony. He didn’t see much of anything.

  Doc Gus didn’t pay attention to the warning signals, observing the writhing man with engrossed fascination. “The brand seeks to gain control of the subject’s cognitive processes through the injection of crippling pain,” he noted in his tablet.

  “Urgalaa.” David tried to rise to his knees, but the anguish was too much for his poorly equipped mind, and he passed out. The blackness took him. His head hit hard against the floor.

  “Hold on.” Manda rolled him onto his side so that the vomit and blood would drool out of his throat and onto the floor, instead of drowning him. Five minutes later his eyes flickered open. Only then did the brand pressure begin to assuage. It eased to a dull background ache. It was gone as quickly as it had come. He began feeling almost normal.

  His senses returned. A bang and a thud sounded nearby. A flash of light and a strict commanding voice suddenly filled the room. An armed and irate QC officer arrived, looking for a culprit. The man, Captain Jonathan, was the overseer for Nnect Quality Control, the captain of the Nnect special forces division, and ambassador from law enforcement to Nnect. Captain Jonathan had earned this position due to his bravery during new sales riots and was not about to let anyone destroy or besmudge the Nnect brand. CEO Saul himself had recommended that the captain receive acknowledgments for going above and beyond his duty on several occasions. It was the same officer from the Gravetless and the restaurant incident with Gayle. It was the officer from the roof who had kept David from jumping many years earlier.

  In a harsh and grating voice, just barely held under control, Captain Jonathan demanded an immediate explanation for the discontinuity in employee procedures and the unsanctioned broadcast to Tri-Coalition. The captain held a radio computer in his hand. Staring from the monk to the employees, the captain tried to assess the danger before summoning more forces or prosecuting the offenders.

  The cap’s eyes saw the override armband on David and gaped. “By the blessed stock, where did you get CEO Saul’s control key?”

  David’s body was exhausted. Breathing heavily, he scrutinized the captain and tried to figure out what to say in response to the demand. “Is that rhetorical?” he asked to give himself a moment to think. Manda wiped spittle from his chin.

  “Nothing I say is rhetorical, tool.” The officer was a daunting man with an intimidatingly broad chest that bristled with medals and awards for service competently rendered above and beyond the quota. This man was a stickler for quality, the law embodied. The captain shifted his fingers on the communicator, ready to call.

  “Wait, sir, wait.” David got the captain to pause. “You are a man of integrity.”

  “Duh, tool. Explain yourself concisely.”

  “We both believe that guarding the privacy of the company is primary. This is a very thorny, complex situation. By bringing others into this situation, Nnect stands to lose a lot. This command armband was given to me.” David looked at Manda, his eyes begging her to let him finish, hoping she would let him lie his way through this.

  “No one would ever give a Productzen power or freedom—ever.” He grabbed David’s armband, shaking it at David’s face. “Not for a million human stocks. Irrational, boy.” The man seized David’s arm and held the band up next to it, motioning with a gesture of displeasure. The band clicked and leaped mechanically onto David’s bicep, clasping itself possessively into position. The censorious officer frowned fiercely and said, “The corrupt nature of your action condemns your credibility. You! A disgrace for betraying your company after all it granted you by the nature of its ownership. Graces unmerited. Nnect deserves your all.” The captain reached for his communicator device. His thumb motioned toward the signal button.

  David recalled the incident on the Gravetless train. A far-fetched idea came into his head. He said, “Sir, if you press that button, it’ll be revealed that you were the one that allowed me to receive this armband.” The officer froze and tilted his head to listen a moment longer.

  David gained confidence. “It was the queer old man on the Gravetless who gave me this while you stood over and approved of it! If you call for help, I’ll let the whole world know you let the queer old man betray Nnect.”

  “Oh, I don’t get blackmailed by terrorists.”

  David began to doubt his approach. “You’ll lose your position for such blatant negligence.” David was exaggerating in the hope of halting the officer’s call for help.

  “A mere felonious employee dares to insinuate that I have failed at my job. Dares to threaten me with removal from my position. Dare too much, employee!”

  “I promise you by the human stock, I’ll tell CEO Saul that you let it happen.”

  “You useless, broken instrument of imprudence! You, blackmail me?”

  “We will both be reprocessed!” His voice sounded more like a plea than a threat.

  “I’m the reprocessor. Who do you think you’ll be turned over to? Who do you think certifies quality for Nnect?”

  “Thrive owns the reprocessing.”

  “Who signs off on the completion of the subject? The doorkeeper for quality. The gateway. I am the law.”

  David laughed nervously. This wasn’t playing out as expected. The ploy was failing. He tried once last time. “Well, you being on the Gravetless and that old man giving me this condemns you as well.” Something made the officer pause.

  It’s worth another attempt, David thought. “I don’t know who that old man was, but it seemed to be your fault that he gave me this.” David held the CEO armband up for Captain Jonathan to see. “Someone was a traitor to Xchange. He gave me too much power. Think about it, Captain. Let’s pause,” he begged. “Let me explain the need.”

  Something brought the puritanical captain up short, and he withheld his pending communication. With conviction, the captain said, “I couldn’t care less about my job if quality remains and the blessed brand continues to change the world for the better. What is one man’s job in light of such a noble calling and mission? I have a sacred duty to guard and protect Xchange against all threats, foreign and domestic. So go ahead and tell whomever you want.” The man reached to his radio to call his troops.

  Changing tactics, David said, “Nnect will lose millions in freedoms if you don’t hear me out. Judge for yourself if my actions have helped or hindered. Give me five minutes to explain my plan.” David sweated like a pig on a hot, humid summer day. Captain Jonathan slowly nodded. To help intrigue the officer, David added, “Nnect has been attacked by an Orns invasion force, and valuable products have been stolen. Two of the other Majors may be involved as well.” He didn’t want to sound too crazy. “I’m not the primary culprit. I’ll show you what has been taken and that all my actions are a response to this theft. For Nnect. Always for Nnect.” He nervously blessed himself with the sign of the X. “May she endure as a light to the people.”

  “I don’t promote hiding things from Mother Nnect and her sacred guardian, the CEO’s office. This needs to go to a higher authority.” David despaired of convincing the officer. The man was a radical purist.

  He looked at Doc Gus and Manda; they shrugged to say, “It’s your responsibility.”

  But before the officer could call his troops, a detonation from the extremity of the building shook the tension. The despondent David, the obstinate QC captain, the silent Manda, and the intrigued Mindmonk rushed over to see what was happening.

  Kn
owing the office layout better than the others, Manda took control. “That explosion came from the product containment unit room.”

  “What is that?” David yelled and waved as the four scurried around to the observation deck. They looked out from the balcony.

  “In the name of all sacred stock,” Doc Gus gasped.

  Where the recycling and garbage chute had been, there was a foreign flying vessel, hissing and flaming. The garbage chute entrance had been constructed of massive double steel doors with reinforced titanium vents, but it was now crunched like a tin can. Reduced to putrid green smoke and burnt, twisted metal. The foreign craft had blasted a hole through the vent, crashed into Lave Labs, and now rested on the floor amid a growing cloud of debris and smoke. The obtrusive ship lay mangled on the floor.

  “More corporate invaders from Orns, probably led by Grandpa Greg and his team of thieves!” David assumed.

  “Maybe we can catch them in the act this time!” Manda hissed in agreement.

  “Behind me, fools,” Captain Jonathan commanded, his military voice resonating throughout the balcony.

  “Exciting developments.” The monk leaned over the balcony, taking notes with the calmness that only a scientist could muster.

  The captain put aside his inhibitions as the new threat took precedence. “Weapon armed,” the captain whispered to his holster. Adrenaline pumped through David, not just from the brand, as he ran with the others down below, their feet banging loudly on the spiral ramp.

  As the group made their hurried way in the direction of the ship, a door on the side of the vessel suddenly burst open, and from its scorched surface, four men bounded out, wielding hostile black blasters. The opposing forces made eye contact; unadulterated loathing emanated from the gesticulating man that appeared to be the leader. The invader fired at the Lave Labs group. The initial bullet roared past David’s left ear, and blood from the scratch oozed instantly in warm, pulsing streams down his neck. He shrieked in rage, but the adrenaline kept him moving. A blue-lit Lave sign just above David’s head exploded into fragments. David had no weapons and ran for protection behind the slave containment homes just to their left. Doc Gus stayed up top, documenting frantically. Manda dove behind a desk, searching for something. The QC officer opened fire and set his ammo to kill mode. The pistol was accurate and deadly.

  One of the four invaders near the ship was hurled to the ground. Dead. And one was injured but missing an arm; he was dragged behind the first containment unit and out of range of fire by his contingent. Captain Jonathan was in battle mode, and he yelled confidently and defiantly at the intruders, “Put your weapons down, and crawl out on your stomachs where I can see you, or be killed without any chance for rebranding. There will be no negotiating a Productzen renewal if you fight back or resist the justice of quality.” Brazenly, he stood and fired a flurry of fury toward the invaders, roaring, “Bastard stocks! It is beneath us to engage in warfare among ourselves.”

  “In the cabinet!” Manda screamed to David.

  David searched and found a stun rifle in a security cubby adjacent to the slave homes, and his sweaty hand held it tightly. He had received two days of self-defense and slave retrieval crash courses prior to the start of this venture, but that felt immensely inadequate as the bullets continued to fly. He noticed that his rifle had an air net for capturing runaways clipped to its long barrel. David clipped the air net onto his belt, because it otherwise dangled uselessly, as he stumbled to support the QC captain. It occurred to him as he passed in view of the destroyed shuttle that these invaders might be the human beings from Tri-Coalition coming in response to his signal. He stared at the ship and the markings on it. It was not branded with Orns.

  His rage dissipated into a reckless urgency as he realized he, David-23, had called these invaders here. He had wanted to barter for his future and regain his company’s lost profit from these people. He had to figure out a way to stop the shooting and start negotiations. At any cost.

  Chapter 35

  Culture Clash

  Quarter 1, Day 15

  Thump. Thumpety. Thud. The intensity of the conflict set David on edge, and he fought to bring his heart rate down to a normal pace. Thump. Thump. The lab’s serene atmosphere had turned into a war zone. “How do I use this damn gun?” His arms shook as he aimed and tugged nervously on the sensitive trigger of the two-foot-long blue steel stun rifle. Boom. Boom. As he fired it, a sense of power filled him.

  He wondered, Is this what it feels like to be a hero in the Tertain entertainment stories or a warrior in the Orns Battle Games? Nervousness and power sandwiching your internals together under the pressure of battle?

  A jet propulsion of air rocketed in a line at the rubbish behind which the intruders were hiding. The air stream separated just before impact and blasted the metal barrier that shielded them out of the way.

  David was breathing heavily. Don’t kill them. He thought in a frenzy, How am I going to save Nnect and this project? I need to stop this conflict. His body pumped with energy stimulated by the intense fight. He felt invincible as he stood out in the open. Stupidly out in the open. But most young men in battle are idiots once the adrenaline kicks in. This was why young men were sent to the front lines.

  A triangle formed. The intruders, three conscious ones, crowded behind the tall pile of shredded metal; more metallic rubbish was scattered around the floor. The second point of the triangle was Captain Jonathan. His uncompromising broad frame leaned heavily against the torn corner of a dented wall as he fired slayer bullets, deadly explosive ammo, at the intruders.

  Waving frantically, David stood out in the open at the other corner of the fight, the third point. He shrieked, his voice cracking to a high pitch, “Stop, let’s negotiate!” No one listened. At that instance, one of the intruders dashed out and dove behind the small damaged plane, giving him a better offensive position.

  Manda yelled to David, her words lost in the noise but not her meaning. The red-and-black aircraft must have some means of escape or a weapon that the man was trying to reach.

  The firing slowed. Captain Jonathan capitalized on the situation by running out into the open, past David, his feet pounding with a military rhythm. Strong shoulders were hunched behind the protection of the extended pistol. The captain pivoted as he ran and waved his deadly gun at the two remaining men still hidden behind the metal pile. “Productzen 23, cover my flank. I’ll hold these two captives and force the third to submit while they search for ammo!”

  Wheezing the words out as he tried to keep up with the stout officer, David shouted, “Sir, we need to negotiate with them. They’re going to reimburse Nnect.” No response from the tense shoulders. He shouted louder, with more desperation. “Killing ’em equals a huge margin loss.” Panic rushed through David as the frantic situation escalated out of his control. This is going downhill quickly. He heard the screams of bullets exploding off metal as the officer of the law cornered the two intruders. The sounds heightened and accelerated the need to stop the situation before there was no possibility of negotiations.

  David sprang into action. “Down, get down!” he screamed at Jonathan. “Don’t kill.” Bumping into the back of the man, he caught up with the officer. The two of them stepped around the first pile of metal and saw the invaders hunched against the cold metal wall. An older man was holding a younger man who had lost his leg from one of the earlier shots. Jonathan pointed his smoking barrel at the two.

  The officer calmly pronounced, “You’re at the mercy of the Quality Control. Move and be terminated!” The powerful man highlighted his threat by yelling, “Prematurely terminate your useless shelf lives.” Ignoring the confused looks, he continued in a formal tone. “Cooperate with the hand of justice, and there remains the opportunity to reintegrate. Compliance saves.” Official statement out of the way, the officer added his own personalized message. “Stock heads, if I see you shift a muscle or appear oppose my interpretation of justice, I’ll spatter your worthless bodies
all over the property that you just destroyed.”

  Boom. Crack and boom. A warning gun fired from around the barrier. The echo repeated around the large sweeping room. The voice of Doc Gus could be heard from the observation balcony on the other side of the room. “The other intruder has a gun and is on your left.”

  Another explosion reverberated around the chamber, but this time it was much closer. The gun in Jonathan’s hand blasted out of his grasp, swirling in a haphazard trajectory out of reach. David froze as a silver barrel emerged from their left. The clenched knuckles and determined face of the third imposter came into view. Jonathan, an experienced fighter, dove immediately to the right when his gun was taken from his grasp, removing himself from the third man’s line of sight.

  “Up, get ’em up.”

  “Wha…?”

  The barrel nodded. “Hands above your head.” The man behind the gun was about David’s age. He had curly black hair, a strong square jaw, and a clean-shaven face. His muscled physique was tensed, and his trigger finger itched as the handgun swung up to point at David’s face.

  David caught the eye of the older man holding the injured fellow. They exchanged a glance that said, We need to stop this now. We need to talk. The man nodded at David, and so David lowered the stun rifle.

  Immediately the older invader behind David stood and waved his hands. “Son, put the firearm down. He wants to dialogue.”

  “You sure, Pa? These bastards want us dead. Look what they did to Pastor Mark’s leg. And that ugly blocky monster shot Charlie in the head. Not to mention he almost killed us.”

  “One of them—this man—tried to stop the fight. I heard him shouting. Let’s hear what they have to say before we kill them. Remember why we are here.” In an authoritative tone, he said, “Remember why we are here!”

  “I want to talk,” David said in a cautious whisper, keenly aware of the slight twitch in the trigger finger of his peer. “To negotiate. Kill me, and you’ll never hear what you came to learn.” Green eyes stared down the barrel of the gun, intent on nothing but David. He noticed a bracelet on his wrist.