Employee of the Year

by submission | Feb 9, 2008 | Story

Author : Ryan F. Bracy

After a couple of weeks, Alan didn’t even notice the feeding tube. It took him a bit longer to stop trying to control his bladder and his bowels and just let the tubes do their work.

He’d used to get stiff, sore from hours of non-stop work, but the new tube bringing him a constant IV drip to suppress his pain centers took care of that. Now he could really get some work done! Eighteen hours a day he would type away, coding, debugging, and testing. He was never hungry, never tired, never needed a break. If the EEG sensed he was bored or sad, no problem, just a little extra something in the drip. Sex? No need for that when an orgasm is a button press away during his off time.

Alan used to be an insomniac, now his sleep was perfectly regulated, and he always woke feeling rested. Alan paused from his work for a moment to reflect on just how good it felt to have been given this opportunity to serve his company so efficiently. A gentle buzzing at the base of his skull reminded him that his woolgathering was happening on company time. Right back to work then! He was peripherally aware that the buzzing would increase in intensity if he ignored it, but it wasn’t fear that got him back to work, it was loyalty. The same sense of loyalty and commitment kept him on his task even when two men entered his cube.

“Alan here is one of our very best tubers Mr. Lipton. He works day and night, rarely makes mistakes, never complains. A fine accomplishment.”

“Yes, I’ve read the reports, 902-71-8430 is one of our greatest successes. One of the earliest volunteers. Now, about your latest reports; am I to understand that 45% of your original employee base has agreed to the tubes?”

“Yes Mr. Lipton, and we’ve only experienced a 3% attrition rate, more than that wanted to leave of course, “offended” at the very thought they claimed, but the brainwashing was very effective.”

“Oh yes! About that, didn’t you get the memo? Corporate has decided that “Brainwashing” sounds too controversial, we’re calling it “Re-Education” now.”

“Very good Mr. Lipton. Would you like to see some of the other tubers?”

“No Bill, I’ll let the efficiency reports speak for themselves. Let’s get some coffee.”

Alan smiled as the two men walked away; he wasn’t bothered one bit by the thought of brainwashing. Just to know that Mr. Pallmer thought he was one of the best had made his day.

The 10:04

by submission | Feb 3, 2008 | Story

Author : Mishal Benson

“This is nuts!” Kitty whispered harshly to her companion, “Why did you bring me here?” He remained silent, framed by the subway’s exit, waiting as she surveyed the scene before her. Am I nuts? She thought. Tall glass buildings rose around her with aluminum sidewalks coiled at their feet beside streets of steel. Just as puzzling as the city before her was the realization that she had no memory of taking the subway to get here, wherever ‘here’ was.

There’s no one else here; is the city abandoned? No cars deserted, litter, or artifacts of lives no longer present. Is it new? No, there was a sense of history and age. The city felt ancient, despite its modern materials and architecture.

Her companion led her towards the tallest building. His black cloak fluttered around his feet; although the hood was thrown back, a featureless mask of white obscured his face from view.

Through the doors, across the lobby and into an elevator, Kitty followed her guide. Arriving on what seemed to be the highest floor, he led her down a hall to a door, with only the simple name plate: “President”. Kitty jumped despite herself as the door opened seemingly of its own accord. Through the door Kitty found herself in a spacious office overlooking the empty city below. Seated comfortably in a capacious burgundy leather chair behind an expanse of very expensive looking desk was the man she assumes was ‘The President’. He closed a file he’d been reading, and handing it to a similarly clothed guide chaperoning an equally confused looking woman.

“Your time has not yet come,” he said. From the desk he produced a basket of flowers, with a card nestled among them. “You saw a lovely landscape with flowers, green grass, tall trees and a beautiful rainbow. Relatives who had come before comforted you and said to return later.” He smiled, handing the woman the basket. She took it, numbly allowing her companion to guide her from the room.

He then turned his attention to Kitty. “Welcome”, he smiled politely beneath dark emotionless eyes. She sensed her companion retreating from her side.

“Where am I?” She demanded, forgoing pleasantries, “What is this place?”

“Where we are has many names, and you may decide on one at your leisure.” He walked towards the all encompassing windows, motioning her to follow. “Come, look, tell me what you see.”

“I see nothing,” she answered, “Where is everyone?”

“They are all here,” he beamed. “Being new you may not see them at first, but one purpose in my greeting newcomers is to open your eyes to see what surrounds you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember how you arrived here?” his question tugging at some recent memory, “What do you remember last?”

“I got off the subway, no I was leaving the subway station, but I don’t remember riding the subway itself.”

“What else? What where you doing before that?”

“I left work early, and was riding home on my bike, listening to Gary Jules on my headset, ‘Mad World’ I think it was, and I’d just crossed the tracks on 14th when…,” she paused, “No. I didn’t cross. I was crossing the tracks, and then I was at the Subway station…then that man brought me here.”

“Look again, tell me what you see.”

“I’ve just told you, nothing…” she stopped, gaping at streets suddenly teeming with cars, sidewalks crowded with people.

He rested a hand on her arm, speaking gently. “The 10:04 train is usually past 14th by the time you get there on your bike.”

Laziness

by submission | Feb 1, 2008 | Story

Author : Timothy T. Murphy

Lola heard shuffling footsteps behind her and cursed her laziness. Lingering at shops she could no longer afford, dreaming of days long gone. Now she was out after dark in a bad neighborhood. She was only a few minutes from home, but it only took a few moments for something to go wrong.

She risked a glance back. A limping figure, a girl in torn sweats, hands in her pockets, eyes cast to the ground. There was a heavy scarf around her face and wild shocks of black hair sprouting from under her hood. As she turned, the figure stopped and turned to look in another direction.

She hurried her pace, her breath heavy. The shuffled steps behind her quickened, and she began to really panic. She cast her eyes, looking for some escape, someone sympathetic in a window, even a light on, but found none.

Half a block ahead, a door opened, and voices spoke. Boys, rough-looking and drunken. She stepped back quickly, eyes on the boys, and was grabbed from behind. Her follower pulled her back fast, a gloved hand over her mouth, pulled her into the alley and spun her around, pressing her against the wall. Through the folds of the scarf, Lola saw eyes that were brown, bloodshot, and determined.

A shushing gesture and the girl glanced around the corner, back towards the boys. Lola’s chest tightened unbearably and she shook. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to open her purse for her pills, but the bag dropped from her trembling fingers.

The girl looked down at the bag, then up at Lola’s ashen face. Seeming to understand, she picked up the purse. Lola watched, dumbfounded, as the girl flipped through its contents, leaving the wallet and taking out her pills. These, the girl opened and gave to her.

She stared numb as the girl went back to watching the boys. After a moment, the girl saw her and tapped the pill bottle for emphasis before looking back at the street. Lola took out two pills and swallowed them dry.

A moment more, and the voices died away. The young girl stepped back and faced Lola, bowing respectfully.

“Thank you,” Lola told her.

The figure reached out a gloved hand towards her hesitantly and Lola started to back away. The girl waited patiently, though, like she was dealing with a frightened animal. She stood still, then, and the girl reached up to pull a single hair from Lola’s head. She stretched it out, holding it up to examine, and seemed to smile under her scarf. Turning back to Lola, she held up the hair in one hand and with the other, tapped on the pill bottle, a question in her eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Lola told her, and the girl pushed the bottle towards Lola and pulled the hair to her own chest. “Yes, it’s fair,” she nodded.

The girl smiled, and bowed respectfully. She glanced back out at the street one last time, and waved Lola on, then turned to shuffle down the alleyway.

Lola ran the rest of the way home and locked herself in.

Sheevey lay the precious hair under her tongue and cursed her laziness. One day she must learn this species’ languages. She’d nearly scared that poor woman to death.

Her saliva broke down the hair and the microscopic bots in her tongue dissembled the D.N.A. inside it. In moments, the pain in her hips faded and she could walk better. A fair trade, she’d thought. Medicine for medicine.