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Aleraco
Miles rushed through the 54th floor. A desk clone peeped from behind an oversized monitor.
"Mr. McCall, welcome home." A flat grin complemented closed eyes.
i'll pretend that was welcoming.
"Erin, how are you?"
"Another day in paradise!"
sarcasm, or drug addiction, hmmm
don’t care
"Splendid, I'll be seeing ya." Miles reflected a disengenuous pleaseantry.
The predictable flat grin returned as a response, though it seemed more like an unconscious reaction by how often it lingered on Erin's face.
Miles ducked swiftly into his office, his tolerance for chitchat was waning. "Sharon, have you been briefed."
"Affirmative."
"Are they reassigning you."
"Actually, they are calling it unprompted vacation. Paid of course."
"It's not performance, not a suspension." Miles reassured with as much emotion as was professional.
"I figured, still feels off. Your new contract will patch through when you scan in."
"Where are you going."
"Staycation I suppose. I don't do well without a plan."
"Maybe try some spontaneity? Ask someone out, spring a plan on them."
"I'm not in college anymore."
"You could pull it off."
"I'm writing a novel."
"A writers cabin then!"
"They haven't told me how long."
"Me neither." Miles paused, tension growing.
"Let's not push it, I suspect this is a promotion for you, congratulations." Sharon injected an atypical positivity.
"Not the verbiage they used, but thank you."
"You deserve it, especially if it sucks."
"I was waiting for the honesty."
"We have the rest of the day. I'll stay active."
Miles smiled openly, lowering his typical guard. "If something strange happens... I appreciate you, Sharon."
Sharon nodded.
Miles swiped into his machine, it booted to a new desktop, cleared of previous projects.
i hate how they do that, i'm still human dammit.
The contract sat ominously in the center of his desktop. The icon was a symbol he had never seen. It was alive, appearing to float off the screen. Miles clicked open an application he didn't know existed. It seemed to be tracking how quickly he read through the document.
could this get any creepier.
Miles refocused, entering an active breathing exercise while he scanned the document. It was boilerplate for the most part, but he knew not to linger on the ominous items.
no more attention please.
Pay increase. Hour reduction. Relocation. Expenses have been pre-calculated. Personal audit pre-approved. Appeal available on assignment completion.
pre pre pre, why the rush?
Legal word-arounds, lots of them.
"I'll have to take a trip to floor 111." Miles said aloud, becoming overwhelmed with the length of the document. He paged Sharon, "Can I get Kurt on the line."
"Standby.... available... patching you now"
The line rang once.
"Miles!"
"Hey Kurt, no time to explain—"
"No need, I'm briefed."
The document was still open. Miles glanced back at it, "Do you have access to this?"
"Contract, no, sir. Your eyes only. Super special."
"Are they going to let me manifest it in the physical realm."
"Print it? Unlikely. Have you booted the mobile yet?"
"Brilliant, I'll see you shortly."
"I can give you fifteen, nothing more."
"See you in three."
Miles closed out the document, a colored wheel spun. Miles was out the door before the document fully closed. He rummaged for the new phone, feeling around for an on button. It began booting to a rotating Aleraco logo.
for a multi billion dollar company, they should could spend some time updating that stock imagery.
At least they animated it
A verbal warning, “one-hundred and eleven” and a ping brought Miles out of his phone setup and onto the legal floor. He skipped pleasantries with an intent glare on Kurt's office.
"Miles!"
"How long do I have?"
"Nine."
"How much can you say?"
"Nein."
I predicted as much
"Look, man, I wouldn't sweat it. I was briefed this morning on your new contract." Kurt maintained a carefree tone.
"That fast? How did they draft it so quickly?" Mile’s blood pressure rose.
Kurt's brows gathered, widening eyes drifting apart. He shrugged. "I dunno, efficiency, productivity, sum total planning matrices, blah blah." He brushed the air, hiding the smoke of his statement.
"What does it mean by: 'The nature of your assignment is need based and contingent on dynamic discovery.'"
"Basically… you'll know when you know." Kurt smiled.
"And: 'A representative is assigned to you in intervals determined by performance metrics and slight of the curve principles.'"
"Unfamiliar."
"Ok, whatever, I can handle performance plyometrics. But this last one…"
"Miles I don't think—"
"Aleraco and included it's officers, associates, shareholders, employees, contracts, and contractors are held harmless for any injuries or alterations: physical, psychomotor, or perceptual (including spiritual) of any party agreeing to the terms stated heretofore and will extend within reason beyond the the terms of this agreement, as dictated by the Board of Directors and a review committee chosen by piers in a relatable security grade. These terms will expire on completion of the assignment and will be dynamically updated by a committee of no less than 5 officers of no lower ranking than grade 3 clearance. The officers will be elected—"
"Miles." Kurt straightened, pyramiding hands on the desk.
"Dude, it goes on for ages. Is it saying that I will be legally entwined by an internal kangaroo court that determines it's own morality based on this... committee?"
"Look, dude—"
"And I'm supposed to take solace that my piers will act as a review board. There's no external enforcement or standardized justice elucidated at any point. It's saying my imagination isn't even safe!"
"Miles, I'll be honest with you, I've never been exposed to a contract like this. I might not be the best confidante."
"Don't minimize your capability, it's insulting." Miles had laid his new phone on the desk, no longer needing reference. His right hand clutched the edge, left craned open, his index planted from stabbing into the desktop.
Kurt's right eyebrow was raised, it seemed he could only raise that eyebrow based on the wrinkle pattern on his forehead. His smile retreated into a stale expression. He sat rigid throughout Mile's performance.
"I'm still in legal, Miles."
"And that's what scares me most." Miles slam-slapped the phone up from the otherwise empty desk.
His storm out was so quick that time skipped.
He awoke from the rage fueled, now internal, tirade as the rhythmic elevator whir came to a halt. The natural-light lobby pulsed in front of him. The pre-noon luminescence seemed to breathe with him.
an early workout will settle this.
Miles checked in his work accoutrements and out his gym bag.
"You're working fast this morning!" Front desk actress remembered everything.
"You could say that." Miles blunted his tone as he escaped the building.
CareFull HQ
"Yes. Hmm. Right. What was Q1?" Silence responded. Heads bobbled. “Q1..?" It continued. “Frollace??”
Frollace held a blank stare lingering just left of a clean shaven, expensively pressed suit.
what is a better name for beige? sand? naked? ooo... egyptian silk.
The room was an uncomfortable quiet. The suited man twisted, arms raised.
oops.
Their eyes met.
“Q1"
"Uhhh… Sorry." Her paper shuffling echoed.
"You know what, I'll catch you afterwards, let’s continue."
fuck, that was a bad one.
The talking heads clattered and groaned. Buzzwords were said, numbers were shared. Frollace pretended to care.
“Alright, I'll see you all next week.” Frollace handed the suit Q1 paperwork on her way out. He stopped her.
"Hey, we need to chat.”
shit.
“About Baltimore.”
shit shit.
"Nothing serious. Your vacation is still approved. Family stuff, right? Is it time dependent? We had a schedule shift.”
“Oh.”
The suit placed a welcome hand on Frollace’s shoulder. “You doing alright? I have some contacts at Aleraco. I could set you up with some coaching. The higher ups don’t have to know.”
Frollace cringed into reaction, pulling away. “Huh, no. God no. Not them. Err, I mean, thank you, no I was doing some trip planning in my head at the wrong time. No problem on the reschedule, my personal obligations are flexible.”
The suit’s eyes angled downward and aside, a grin pulling in balanced opposition. “Great, check in shortly, let me know if you need anything.”
Frollace nodded through a forced smile, turning slowly and returning to her desk. Her corner was approvingly expressive, with color coordinated sticky notes and a well manicured calendar. A single picture of her family’s dog stuck to the perimeter of her screen. She sighed freely, half embracing her face with her hands. A half pout, half laugh snuck out authentically. She caught her image in the dark reflection of her monitor. Straightening, looking about, everyone seemed to be consumed in their own tasks. She returned to her tidy-up tasks before travel.
I still don’t understand what they need from me at headquarters. What am I even preparing for?
Chesterfield st.
“Last chance.”
“I’m going to see you again.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Stop.”
Their hugs felt warmer than a normal hug. There’s something about hugs, or the people who give them, that imbues the experience with a heft or levity, depending on the connection. Sharif felt the density of vulnerability with every hug, though she didn’t talk about it. It seemed there was something threatening about making obvious the inner workings of the soul. Explaining the unexplained was a better task for mystics and psychics. Plus, she wasn’t about to advertise her crazy to everyone, especially those so close to leaving.
“Call me when you know.” Sharif beamed with hope.
“I’m not so good at that.”
“I know.”
“I’ll call.”
“You sure you don’t want a ride?” Sharif looked up in desperation.
“I’m sure I don’t want to extend this goodbye with an awkward car ride. Like when am I supposed to say what I need to say?”
“What do you need to say.”
“This time…”
“See, it’s not the car ride that makes it difficult.” Sharif poked playfully.
“This is already too drawn out.”
“All goodbyes are too short.”
“I guess we’ll know what we wanted to say soon.”
“Right… When it’s too late to say it.” A pause lingered. “When will you be back?”
“Hard to say.”
“So you’re only sly with your tongue when you first meet someone?”
“Heh, that’s one way to view it.” A yellow cab pulled up, stopping short at the neighbor’s house.
Sharif’s gaze longed for someone to leave the adjacent building and take the cab. “Gave me hope that you don’t have to leave yet.”
“Time to go.”
Sharif pulled the taller, thicker companion forcefully in and ducked, her head tucking between a chin and a shoulder. Tears welled from that unexpressible place, this time a heavy place. She knew her companion wasn’t going to return. They both knew. A goodbye gargled between stifled explosions.
goodbyes that feel so long are always remembered as too short.
The cab pulled away. Sharif didn’t watch.
Most days for Sharif were days off, she was in job limbo after selling her stake in CareFull, an online wellness startup. Though it wasn’t her brainchild, she had written the operations manual, and implemented many, if not all, of the groundbreaking programs that earned the company national appeal. Life happened quickly in the startup industry, and she had forgotten what a normal year felt like.
strange how time speeds and slows, how readily I feel the change, but how slow and unchanging the city feels.
why must I be so accustomed to everything around me changing, while personal events feel so… immense.
Sharif spiraled. The feeling was familiar.
i need a distraction.
a new obsession
i need…
a break?
ugh.