Content warning: blood, murder
“Yes, sir, it’s being taken care of,” said the man, speaking into something that could hardly be recognized as a phone — it had all manner of extrusions and add-ons, in addition to the fact that it glittered as the dim light filtered through the window and struck its surface. He was staring at the sparse clouds surrounding his estate. It was gray outside. It was always gray outside.
“I understand this has been a concern of the higher ups, but I assure you, I have it well under control.”
There was a buzz on his desk, and he turned around.
“I believe that’s it just now, sir. I’ll have my associates send you a memo regarding our success in the project shortly,” he said, in a tone that was sickly-sweet. At a mere thought, the device snapped out to its home screen, hanging itself up. The implants had been expensive, but they were so convenient. Likewise, the comms he kept for internal affairs turned themselves on shortly thereafter. The image of his secretary flashed on a projected screen as he tucked the phone back into the folds of his suit.
“I trust that this is regarding the union?”
“That’s the one. Two of our finest with a union representative are asking to see you. I’ll send them up?” She inquired, her tone lifting to make the sentence a question. He nodded, and the screen closed.
He sat down — his chair adjusted itself for him. It felt good to never have to lift a finger, he thought. It was a very, very pleasant experience. His room was structured so that on the opposite end was the elevator entrance that led inside. It was all one room, one large office. He’d based it off of a design he’d seen being rejected for one of the lower sectors. It was “cost inefficient,” they claimed, to have an entire top floor dedicated to an office. He — that is, the Baron of Complex 31, Everest Giovanni — had seen it for what it really was. A display of power.
The elevator shaft itself was glass. So were all of them, in the complex. It was the standard regulation for the company, and unlike their competitors, they had a much lower crime rate in their faux cities. The transparency helped, of course, though Everest liked to attribute it to their… other regulations.
He watched as the elevator raised itself up into the entrance. Inside were two of his men, dressed in rather unbecoming attire. As much as it hurt him to see them like that, it was necessary for the infiltration they’d been working on. Judging by the figure that they held in-between them, struggling and cursing at them, they’d done a fine job indeed
The doors opened, and they stepped out with him, into the office. It was a long walk up to his desk. The carpet under their feet was velvet. Rare these days. As their captive frothed at the mouth and spat at his captors, Everest frowned. He was going to have to get someone to clean his carpet after this. Irksome. Though if it was already going to need cleaning, that at least meant he could more readily employ the means the company preferred. He’d always felt them to be a bit drastic, but who was he to disagree with the powers that be?
They finally reached him, and the one on the right shoved the man in front of his desk. Everest gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk, smiling.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, mister Arlo.” The man seemed briefly appalled by the use of his name, which made him chuckle. “It’s no surprise I know you. You’re the talk of the town, aren’t you? Trying to start a… what are you kids calling it these days? An alliance?” He asked, feigning ignorance.
“A union,” Arlo spat. “And I’m not sitting anywhere with you. You pathetic, worthless, sniveling—”
“I think your very good friend Morris might find that a bit worrisome.” Arlo’s face paled. “Oh, yes, I must not have mentioned it! I’m so sorry about that. We’re in conversation with the two of you right now. We thought he might provide an interesting alternative viewpoint, was all.” He shook his head as Arlo began sputtering out some inane series of questions. “Please, save your questions. All in good time. Sit down.”
There was a tense pause between the two of them. Everest was sure that to his interlocutor, this felt very important. He, however, was just going through the motions. This wasn’t the first person he’d had to discipline this week. Might be the last… it was the weekend, after all. He certainly hoped so. They were taking time he’d much rather spend at the theatre. After what felt like an eternity, he sat.
“Excellent,” the Baron smiled, “now, let’s just get right to it, shall we? You see, this union you’re advocating for — it’s against company policy.”
“Which is bullshit,” he interrupted, and was met with a holographic pop-up, like an audience prompt from those old sit-coms. “SILENCE,” it read. Everest felt it was easier than holding up a hand.
“Please, I’ve got to get through this spiel. It’s easier for both of us if you let me finish. As I was saying. You’re going against company policy with all this ‘organizing,’ and ‘striking,’ and all the other mundane — what is it you did yesterday? Started a ‘boycott’?”
“You can trivialize it all you want, but we know what you are. Whole union knows. You scumbags keep us locked up in here, and they’re starting to wake up to that.”
“How many people are in your union, again?” he asked. Silence and a stiff upper lip was all Arlo deigned to reply with. The Baron sighed. “Well, it’s obviously been enough to cause problems. We both know that much. You’re proud of yourself, I imagine. Making my life harder with all that whining you’re doing. This is just the way it goes, you know that in your heart of hearts.”
“That’s what they said about that other damn corporation, and they got their comeuppance. It’s your turn now, douchebags.”
Arlo spit in Everest’s face. He blinked. He slowly, gingerly lifted a finger, and wiped it off. His expression didn’t flicker from its passive smile.
“The company insists that I don’t know what you’re talking about. Though, off the record, that’s quite a feat. You’re an impressive lot indeed. Clearly I need to ask corporate to revise their regulations. It’s a wonder you all managed to get news outside of here. However, you have made a crucial mistake.”
He stood up from his desk and faced the window. He looked just like the movies he used to watch. The thought made him giddy.
“You assume that when something is at its apex, there is nowhere else to go but down. The truth, however, is much worse for you.”
He spun around, his arms thrown out wide. His smile seemed more sinister to Arlo.
“If you’re willing to do anything — really anything — to hold your position. Nothing will ever drag you down. No matter how many of you protest in the streets. No matter how many dirty secrets you dig up. No matter how hard you try. The house always wins, dear boy.”
Arlo scoffed.
“Is that supposed to scare me?”
“No, it’s just supposed to help give you perspective for when you give your own speech.” Arlo looked apprehensive, so he went on. “Well, you’ve obviously had a change of heart since we’ve been talking, haven’t you, mister Arlo? You now know you’re violating company policy, which is very important to you, and you know that your friend Morris will be fired if you don’t comply.”
“Rather be fired than—”
“I don’t believe you understand me, mister Arlo. His position with the company will be terminated. Permanently.”
There was a pause, again.
“Are we clear?”
“Fuckin’ crystal,” he growled.
“Language,” Everest replied, tartly. “Now, in order to repay the company for your past misdeeds, I’m going to give you a chance to stream directly to our news networks. I’ve already set it up while we’ve been talking,” he assured, tapping the side of his head, “These things really do work wonders. Now just to be clear, I expect you to wholeheartedly renounce the efforts you’ve been taking thus far on this broadcast. I could do the work of dissolving your organization myself, but they’ll trust your word so much quicker. It’ll also result in fewer of your associates being… removed… from their place with the company. So, mister Arlo, please,” he looked at him with a measured gaze, “do the right thing.”
He sat back down. The holographic screen flickered to life once more.
It was a news broadcast. They were announcing that they were about to go live shortly with a major union representative after negotiations with Baron Giovanni. Allegedly there had been major breakthroughs with the union.
In time, they turned on the feed. Arlo could see himself reflected back into the screen. He looked old. Haggard. He was too young to look that way, he thought, with a pang of sorrow for his own lost life. The company had made him this way. Potentially made him altogether if the rumors were true. He saw in himself the horrors of this place. In that moment, more than saving himself — or Morris — he wanted to do his part to save everyone.
“I’ve been, uh, talking with the Baron,” he began, trying to sound reasonable. He didn’t want them to cut the broadcast too soon out of suspicion. “We’ve been discussing the union. He has some very strong thoughts on it, and obviously I have- had… some very strong thoughts on the company. The union sought for more reasonable hours, access to the off-limits sectors for workers, disclosure regarding Sector 01 and 02, among many quality of life improvements for everyone working here.”
He hesitated for one moment, then steeled himself.
“In response to this, I was kidnapped by the Baron, threatened, and told to rescind everything I said,” the Baron looked appalled at his words, but he didn’t move to turn it off. Of course this rich fool was shocked. Of course he’d underestimated Arlo. The higher-ups always did. “I refuse to do that. I want to tell everyone, right now, that all of the rumors are true. And that we must keep fighting against this tyranny and oppression—”
The Baron finally, hurriedly, turned off the broadcast, pushing a button on his desk. He looked stricken. Arlo wore a steely smile.
“… Well, it wasn’t much. But it was enough. Don’t you think, sir?”
Arlo couldn’t help but feel as if this was an important step forward. He knew what was likely to happen next, but he’d done exactly as he’d been asked. He’d done the right thing.
The Baron looked at him, his face aghast. Then — slowly — his face began to twitch. He cleared his throat. His expression was shifting. Everest stood back up and turned around, reaching up and covering his mouth with one hand. Arlo felt uneasy. It sounded like the Baron was stifling tears. That is, until he stopped trying to hold it in.
Laughter burst from him, ringing hollow in Arlo’s ears. Why was he laughing? What reason could he possibly have to laugh? What was so funny that it now seemed he was straining not to double over? Arlo started to stand up, but the Baron waved him down, trying to regain composure.
“No, no, please,” he stammered through fits of laughter, “please, do stay seated. This is terribly unprofessional of me, you have my sincerest apologies. I told myself I wasn’t going to laugh if this happened, it’s just…” he gestured vaguely at Arlo. “Do you really think you’re doing anything with all of that?”
“‘Course I have,” said Arlo, morbidly pleased with himself. “I just outed your little operation?”
“You did?” The Baron tilted his head, still smiling. It was a different smile, now. Not menacing, per se, nor falsified, but simply, strangely, delighted. Arlo hated it, but worse, he was unsettled by it.
“What are you, blind?”
“I’m sorry, mister Arlo,” he began, shaking his head, “You must’ve mistaken me for a rube, though I seem to have correctly assessed you as one. Did you really believe I would patch you through into a live television network?”
“Of…” he trailed off, mustering his confidence back. He didn’t understand what Everest was going on about. He’d seen the footage — was it being faked? Arlo didn’t want to believe it. “Of course I do. You’re a smug, smarmy guy that refuses to be outsmarted.”
“Well,” he sighed, still looking like the picture of joy, “If it brings you comfort in your final moments to continue believing this lie…”
“It’s not a lie!” Arlo burst out. He felt a sinking feeling.
“It won’t matter for much longer, so that’s a fine thing to say,” he said, digging out some papers and writing something on them with a pen produced from his sleeve.
“I didn’t — What I did mattered! It still matters! The people had to have heard it!” He knew somewhere that Everest wasn’t lying, but to accept that was to accept that he’d been nothing but a fly in a web since he was dragged into this room.
Everest continued writing, his expression unaltered.
“Don’t ignore me!”
“I’m not ignoring you. I’m just signing your dismissal.”
Arlo felt as if the room was closing in on him. The blood had drained from his face. He felt faintly embarrassed, ashamed. He tried his best to quell those extraneous emotions, to replace them with rage, or indignance, or defiance. Yet he found himself unable to manage that. He’d been made a fool of, and it was with a rising horror that he realized he’d chosen his ideals for nothing. Yet a part of him understood he wasn’t even truly concerned with the smothering of his message. Instead, his entire being felt repulsed solely by the man in front of him, who had made a mockery of him. He wouldn’t even look up at him.
“It mattered” Arlo continued, “and… you’re gonna get your—”
“My what? My just desserts? My due punishment? When in the history of this complex has that ever happened? No, no, I’m terribly sorry, that was just a — an evaluation measure the company requests that I use in these instances. In all my years, however, I’ve never… I’ve never seen someone so pleased with themselves over it.” Everest chuckled, and suddenly he seemed an inhuman thing more than a man. Arlo couldn’t stand to look at the grotesque mask that passed for his face anymore — it horrified him at that moment.
He stood up suddenly, and rushed to the side. The man on his left tried to grab him, but he nimbly slipped away from his grasp. The one on the right went to tackle him, but was evaded completely. Arlo had to get out of here. He knew that much. The rising laughter in the background seemed only to confirm this.
“Mister Arlo, please,” he barely managed to breathe between his cackling, “please, do return to your seat.”
Arlo bolted for the elevator. He had no idea what he was going to do when he got to the bottom. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this. However, he knew he had to try, had to keep going, and had to get out this message. He tried to convince himself that’s why he was doing this — not that he was running away from that maddening laughter.
“Very well, very well, we’ll do this now. A bit quick for my taste,” Everest remarked, still unable to speak fluidly.
As he ran through the room, which began to feel like an endless hallway, the Baron finally managed to restrain most of his laughter. He could not, however, keep the glee out of his voice as a drawer in his desk opened.
“Mister Arlo, effective immediately, the company has deemed you unfit for continued employment. We thank you,” he raised the pistol from its resting place and leveled it at the fleeing man, “for the time you have given us.”
Arlo tumbled down.
The carpet, formerly a pleasant grey, was stained with red.
“You are dismissed, Mister Arlo.” His sentence was punctuated by the sound of the drawer shutting itself once more.
The two employees of the Baron gathered themselves. One helped the other off of the floor. They hadn’t been personally privy to a disciplinary meeting before. This was perhaps more surprising to them than it had been to Arlo. As they tried to shake off the sight before them, they were met with a jovial finger wag from their employer.
“You two almost let him slip out of the room. I hope I won’t have to discuss your position with corporate as well.”
“Sorry sir,” said one, with palpable fear, “it won’t—”
“I’m only teasing, boys! Do relax! You’ve done great work today.” He sat back in his chair. “Why don’t you two go take a break? I’ll transfer you two some funds for a nice lunch. Get something you like.”
“Oh, and when you go downstairs,” he said, his chair spinning back around to face the window, “get Cassandra to come here and clean up this mess, would you? She’s always been good with blood.”