Jaffle Inc

by Heide Goody

  Henderson smiled and leaned back. “Of course. You’re right. So, tell us what it was like. What made you tackle a kangaroo? Surely it was a dangerous thing to do?”

  “Oh man, I was so stoked! I had to get in there and try some Maglev moves on those guys.”

  “Maglev is magnetic levitation,” said Michael.

  “Then what am I thinking of?” wondered Rufus. “Anyway, you should have been there! They’re powerful animals, but my martial arts skills are all about outsmarting your opponent. It was obvious to me that—”

  “Okay, enough,” interrupted Henderson. “With all due respect, sir, you are a security risk. In my estimation, you will definitely talk about this in the future. We must erase the memory.”

  “Oh, what? That was a trap?”

  “And hardly a cunning one, sir.”

  “Man! You could have warned me, I would have shut the hell up!”

  “We will arrange the memory wipe as soon as you’re recovered. There is another matter that I need your signature for, and it won’t wait until then. Perhaps Michael, you could leave us for a few minutes?”

  Michael from legal rose and left the room.

  “Are you both getting memory wipes?” asked Rufus, sulking.

  “I will attend to all details. It’s very much in our mutual interest that you trust I have the company’s best interest at heart, wouldn’t you say? As Chief Technical Officer, problem solving is my forte.”

  Rufus gave a grunt of assent.

  Henderson cleared his throat. “The other matter. I need your signature for Operation Sunrise. It’s a complex project, so I can’t afford to let any time slip. Could you please authorise the project brief for the completion phase?”

  Rufus looked at the sheaf of papers. “Do I need to read all that?”

  “I can read it out to you if you want, but there’s nothing we haven’t discussed before in some form or another. The exec summary for this proposal is that we’re rationalising and streamlining all of our customer packages, shifting certain privileges from one band to another. It’s all about clarity.”

  “Clarity?” scoffed Rufus. “Give me the English version!”

  “More and more people are buying their way into higher level packages. Currently, Jaffle Freedom is the highest level, a Jaffle Port with zero restrictions or external influence.”

  “That’s what I’ve got,” said Rufus.

  “Exactly. And it was once an exclusive club but people from the lower user levels are increasingly able to buy their Jaffle Freedom outright.”

  “I like things that are exclusive.”

  “Quite, sir,” said Henderson. “With that in mind, we are going to introduce a new, higher and much more exclusive level, called Jaffle Sunrise.”

  “Nice name,” conceded Rufus. “And how’s that different from Jaffle Freedom?”

  “At the moment, it isn’t.”

  “Ah,” said Rufus. “Now call me a schmuck, but I think I see a flaw in your business plan, Hendo.”

  “You are correct, sir,” the CTO conceded. “Which is why once Operation Sunrise is implemented Jaffle Freedom will take on some of the user terms and conditions of Jaffle Premium.”

  “You’ll limit their service?”

  “Minor stuff. The appreciation of abstract concepts relating to art, music, poetry. We’ll reduce their capacity for violence and sexual arousal. Just a tad. As I say, Jaffle Freedom will take on many of the characteristics of Jaffle Premium.”

  “And Jaffle Premium?”

  “Will become Jaffle Standard.”

  “And Standard?”

  “Those unable to make the financial leap to Premium will be given a service much like the current Jaffle Lite.”

  “So there will be even more people on Jaffle Lite?”

  “Jaffle Standard, sir. It will be called Jaffle Standard. Those currently on Jaffle Lite will be provided a level of restricted service.”

  “How restricted?”

  “They’ll be able to control their own bodies’ most basic functions. They’ll be able to respond, on a mostly unconscious level, to visual and auditory stimuli. They will be equipped with a basic fear of death, in order to promote self-preservation.”

  “That is restricted,” agreed Rufus.

  “And therefore Jaffle Tech has benevolently agreed to assist in the social management of the general population.”

  “Social management?” Rufus grappled for the exact meaning.

  “Accommodation, health, employment and so on. We will run people, centrally, for their own good. We’ve sold the concept to most governing bodies with no problems, because it’s the only complete solution that exists. Voting it in will be no problem at all, for obvious reasons. People put themselves in our hands and this is the most straightforward way to ensure everyone’s taken care of. The management of people’s hopes and expectations will be simple. Their needs are so much lower at that level.”

  “Yes, I see that. Isn’t it just a little bit wrong though?” asked Rufus, shifting awkwardly in the bed. “I mean, there might be people who don’t want to be satisfied with less.”

  Henderson nodded. “It’s a valid challenge, but let’s take a moment to reflect upon the oldest adage in business. Wasn’t Henry Ford supposed to have said that if he gave customers what they wanted, he’d be working on making a faster horse rather than cars? It’s up to us to have the vision to take things forward. It’s a win-win situation because it also guarantees the company’s bottom line for the next ten years. The projected earnings from this are in the pack and it’s bigger than anything we’ve ever done before. Seriously, the money will be rolling in for years.”

  “But is this the right thing to do?”

  “It’s entirely your choice, sir,” said Henderson. “We can continue without Operation Sunrise. In fact, if we don’t I was planning on purchasing Jaffle Freedom myself.”

  “You?” said Rufus.

  “What else am I going to spend my money on? I’ve got the largest apartment on the Panhandle. I’ve got a mansion south of the border. I should buy Jaffle Freedom. And be like you, sir.”

  Rufus settled back into his pillow and reached for the pen. “When you put it like that, it sounds like it’s the way forward.”

  ***

  I came back to the room with an actual intake of breath.

  Rufus, the real no-longer-a-dream Rufus, stood before me right now. There was a goofy grin on his face as he looked at me.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “Don’t I know you?”

  “No,” I said, backing away. “We don’t know each other at all.”

  I turned and all but ran. I pushed my way through the throng of the party, pushed my way as far away from Rufus Jaffle and his hateful company as possible.

  ***

  Chapter 32

  I went in search of more alcohol. It wasn’t going to fix the horror that was playing out in my head, but it might make it slightly more bearable. I grabbed a glass of champagne from a tray. In my haste, I knocked several others. The might-as-well-be-Empty servant bent to catch what she could. I grabbed three and the woman managed to stop two more from spinning to the floor.

  “I’m really sorry about that,” I said.

  She smiled at me but only with her mouth, nothing from her eyes. She moved off without a word.

  I found my way out onto the terrace, overlooking the ocean and proceeded to down my three glasses of champagne.

  It was crystal clear why Rufus had asked me to delete his memory. The most horrifying part of that memory wasn’t that Rufus Jaffle was a callous kangaroo-beater, but the casual way in which Operation Sunrise had been signed off. Rufus had known what he was signing all along. He was fine with it. Perhaps when you were a mega-rich playboy, the idea of the rest of the world being reduced to child-like levels of brain function wasn’t a big deal. Perhaps if you had servants to keep you well-fed and a plipper to subdue any problems you could live with a decision like that.

  I felt
tainted, like I carried the guilt of his actions on his behalf. I was tempted to delete that memory myself and be rid of it.

  Oooor you could beeee a whaaaale, sang a voice. Something tried to swim into view in the corner of my vision.

  “Shush, you,” I muttered and turned away. I juggled the champagne glasses so I had a full one to drink from.

  “I’m sure she came through this way,” came an approaching voice. It was Claire.

  “Does it really matter?” said a tired and unhappy voice. Her husband.

  I moved along the terrace and through another door.

  There was no longer any point in me staying. I clearly wasn’t going to be able to speak with Rufus Jaffle, and I couldn’t afford to let Claire see my face. I ducked into the room where the piglet orchestra had been, hoping she wouldn’t think to look there, now it was closed up and in darkness. I hid behind the door, tense with the expectation someone would burst in and discover me at any moment.

  I heard the tiniest sound in the darkness, and held my breath. It came again. I realised it was the sound of a piglet.

  “Lights,” I said and the room lit up. The piglets were still in here, piled up on a trolley.

  I shook my head. Jaffle Ports in kangaroos to make them fight wasn’t all that different to Jaffle Ports in piglets to make them sing. How was this allowed to continue? Sure, they looked contented enough. Their ports kept them pacified, their boxes were clean and roomy.

  “Happy little pigs,” I murmured. “In sterile little boxes.”

  I crouched down before the trolley of little piggy-wigs. It occurred to me, for the first time, these little creatures were the sources of bacon. Of course I knew that delicious salty tangy bacon came from pigs. I had jipped the fact some days ago, but I hadn’t made the connection until now. I had eaten their little piggy-wig cousin. I drunkenly wondered if I’d snacked on someone that they’d known, personally.

  These poor piglets were stored here in the darkness like baggage, forced to be content with Jaffle chips. Perhaps they were kept this way until they were taken away and turned into bacon.

  “And this is supposed to be an animal charity event,” I said, sniffing back tears.

  One of the pigs snorted and pressed its round snout to the plastic glass.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll make it right.”

  I unclipped the box and lifted the piglet out. It wriggled and twisted in my hands. I held its warm pink body close and it settled against my chest.

  “Okay, Wiggler,” I said. “We’ll get your brothers and sister out of here too.”

  I couldn’t choose between taking piglets out of boxes or wheelling the entire trolley out. Surely I’d be noticed trying to sneak out with a trolley full of someone else’s pigs. There was a curtained off area at the back of the room, not quite a stage but clearly a partitioning area.

  Carrying Wiggler, I stepped through a gap. If I could pull down a curtain, maybe I could cover the trolley and wheel it out of the house unnoticed. I didn’t have a clue where to take it or what I would do next. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.

  I heard chatter and then a raised voice. “Damn it all! One of them’s got out! Number Six!”

  “Oops,” I said, clutching Wiggler tighter. We pressed on through the labyrinth of black curtains.

  I got turned around in there. The curtains were clearly used to screen off a huge central space, turning it into into several rooms. When I re-emerged I was at the edge of another darkened room. It was full of people.

  Rows of seats had been laid out facing a lit stage and podium. An audience of maybe thirty to forty was made up of some of the most soberly dressed at the party. I crept along the wall towards the rear exit. It was closed and two security types stood before it.

  “It’s great to see you!” called Rufus Jaffle.

  I whirled. He was on the stage, addressing the whole room. People cheered and applauded.

  “Dudes! It’s great to see you all!” He grinned.

  Dressed in his strange business attire, including shorts and sandals, he looked very different to the people in the audience, but they seemed to love him for it. He held up his hands to calm the noise.

  I dropped into the nearest seat and tried to look small.

  “Dudes,” he said. “We’re so happy to have you here today. Hope you’re enjoying the event. We laid on the very best food, entertainment and company, but right here is where the magic’s gonna happen. Hold tight and you’ll get the very latest news on the upcoming, ah, things.” He sniffed and rubbed his eye. Over the microphone, his eyeball squeaked. “First up, I wanted to ask if you’d ever thought about whales? Take a moment. Ask yourself what you know about whales. Well I know we’re all here to support the animals. I mean, who doesn’t love our cute furry friends, huh? But a whale, have you ever thought about those great big dudes? Well, I have, and I wanted to tell you how awesome they are. Did you know they strain krill through their teeth?”

  He looked out at the audience. They stared back in mildly confused silence. I was possibly the only person present who knew about his whale-based thought experiments.

  He bared his teeth and turned his head so that everyone could get a look. “Check this out. Teeth.” His words were distorted by his unusual expression. “Think about what it would mean if you had to get all of your food by straining it through your teeth. Pretty hard work, huh? Well those dudes do it every day. Every. Single. Day. It’s not easy, I can tell you.”

  He looked around at us all, nodding emphatically, then glanced across the stage as if someone had gestured to him. He scowled.

  “Right,” he said, more soberly. “So now we’re all tuned into the same wavelength – whales. Seriously, man! – it’s time to talk about the upcoming changes here in the world of Jaffle Tech.”

  Someone whooped in the audience. It was a solitary voice but Rufus did a double handed point and nodded like it was the most insightful comment ever.

  “We have some truly ground-breaking things for you, like we always do. Have the Jaffle tech-heads ever disappointed? No, they have not. Every time you think they can’t top the last amazing thing, they go right ahead and do it! Now, I like to keep an eagle view of things, soaring above everything, at a like, spiritual level. I get my staff to dig in the weeds and get down and dirty. I’m not a details kinda guy. On that basis, I’m going to invite my man Henderson to come up here and explain the new rollout to you all. I’m sure you’re gonna love it. Put your hands together and give Hendo some love!”

  Henderson walked out onto the stage. He presented a sharp contrast to Rufus Jaffle, in an immaculate suit and looking very carefully groomed.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Shareholders. Colleagues. I know you’re all eager to hear the latest update on our corporate strategy, and how Jaffle will be securing the growth of your investment for years to come. If you’ll bear with me through this brief presentation, we will follow up with a live demonstration, and I think you will see we hold the future very much in our hands. No other company has had the vision and foresight to solve the world’s problems like Jaffle, and this latest development might represent our boldest stride forward yet.”

  Wiggler nudged my hand. I patted his little head but he nudged me again.

  “You want food?” I whispered.

  He bit the ends of my fingers. It didn’t hurt so much, but I recoiled in surprise, bringing stern glances from the people sitting nearby.

  “Shush!” said a woman next to me.

  Henderson continued. “Jaffle has ended so many huge problems. There are many medical conditions which we have eradicated. War and conflict around the globe has been reduced. The diminishing resources of the earth can now be distributed in an optimised manner. Starvation is a thing of the past as Jaffle food processing has made nutritious and homogenised rations available to all for free, working with government agencies to unlock funding.”

  There was applause around the room. Henderson inclined his head in acknowledge
ment. Rufus Jaffle stood at the side of the stage, determined to take his share of the kudos, shouting “Hell yeah!” and pumping his fist. “Beans for everyone, man!”

  Wiggler jumped down from my lap and ran under the row of seats in front. I got down on hands and knees to follow him.

  “You shouldn’t bring pets in here!” hissed the woman.

  I crawled forward along the rows, trying to follow Wiggler.

  “This brings me to some of humanity’s more recent problems,” said Henderson. “Modern lifestyles bring with them a certain level of stress. You may be familiar with the statistics on the amount of information we’re expected to absorb in our day to day lives. We have fallen into the trap of enabling information to be fired at us at the speed of light, when we are just not mentally equipped to deal with it. When did we all get so afraid of being bored?”

  I moved along a row, squeezing past legs in pursuit of my Wiggler.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” muttered one man. “We’re trying to watch the presentation!”

  “Gotcha!” I pounced on a pink lump. As I lifted it I realised it was a pink leather hand bag. A woman snatched it from my hands. “Get off my purse, you maniac!” she said loudly.

  “Boredom is essential. It’s as essential to human well-being as sleep,” Henderson continued. “Sensory overload has proven to be a contributing factor in many cases involving violence and sexual misconduct. What’s the answer? How can we encourage a return to a simpler life and take away those harmful urges? Does Jaffle have a solution to this?” He smiled around at the audience. “Of course we do.”

  I was near to the centre of the room, and I had caught sight of Wiggler. He was standing on a seat, apparently trying to reach up to bite a woman’s hair. She was staring ahead at the stage, oblivious. I crept forward and grabbed the naughty piggy, somehow managing to snag the woman’s hair. She yelped.

  “So sorry,” I said as I made my way to an empty seat, holdingWiggler tightly.

  I had caused quite a commotion, but the darkness had concealed a lot. A fanfare sounded from the stage, drawing everyone’s attention back to Henderson. A screen behind him lit on a live feed, split across numerous rooms in what looked like a communal living space.