A dark figure stood over the world it had conquered, admiring its work—the burnt villages, the mountains of corpses, the rivers of blood. Only one man stood before it, but the figure did not notice because the rags the man wore were drenched with blood, blending in with all the land surrounding him. This creature, though miles away, still towered over all that stood. To it, mountains were hills, oceans were ponds, and every step it took pushed it farther and farther away.
The man did not waver, however, and brandished his sword, if for nothing but his own benefit. His life had been destroyed by this monster, and he had nothing left to lose. The man began to charge, and despite the distance, he was making gains quickly, covering miles in mere seconds. He jumped, raising his sword high, to slice through the nape of this horror’s neck. But as the sword made contact, everything went black.
Then Derrek woke up.
He had fallen asleep at his desk, a result of spending the last thirty-six hours straight working on the arrangements for the company’s next excursion to Germany. A lot had to go into it. Housing arrangements were made for upward of two hundred people, transportation for several tons worth of equipment, and going through the bureaucratic hell that was Frostbyte’s budgetary system
Derrek Snowe worked for Frostbyte Incorporated, a philanthropic company based in New York City focused on environmental conservation and the furthering of humanity as a whole. The owner and CEO, William Shale, founded the company in 2003 with the intention of achieving immortality for everyone at a reasonable price. While they had thus far made little progress toward that goal, it remained the reason Shale kept the company alive. Most of the company’s revenue came from their technological developments, namely their prosthetic limbs and artificial organs. The limbs were able to completely replicate their lost counterparts, down to artificial skin grafts that blended seamlessly with the patient’s natural skin, and the organs fully integrated with virtually all recipients. Even for the year 2035, it was decades ahead of its time.
Derrek yawned and stretched his arms. This alerted his cubicle neighbor, Neil Jenkins—a kindhearted man with thick glasses in his mid-forties, who popped his head over the thin wall separating the two. He said, “Morning, sleepyhead! Did you have a nice nap?”
“Fuck off, Jenkins,” Derrek replied without opening his eyes.
Jenkins laughed, then perched his arms atop the wall, getting comfortable. “Every time you wake up from a late night, you tell me to ‘eff off’—can always count on it!”
“And I can always count on your impeccable timing, annoying me as soon as I wake up.”
Jenkins pulled his right arm back to his own desk, grabbed a mug, and gestured for Derrek to take it. “Hey, give me some credit; you can also count on me making your coffee exactly the way you like it.”
Derrek accepted the mug and took a sip, “I drink it black. There’s milk in this.”
“Oh, well, if you don’t like it, I’ll gladly go dump it out,” Jenkins said, reaching for the mug, which Derrek quickly pulled out of reach, sloshing the coffee around but not spilling a drop.
“Try to take it, and I’ll send you home in pieces,” he said with murder in his half-opened eyes.
Jenkins bellowed with laughter, falling back into his chair, “Like clockwork, I swear!” he continued laughing for quite a while, long enough for Derrek to chug over half of his coffee. After Jenkins managed to quell his laughter, he got back up on his perch and asked, “What had you up all night this time, young buck?”
“The GM wanted me to get the lodging arrangements set for the survey team we’re sending to Germany next week. He said something about ‘expanding my horizons,’ so I think he thinks he was doing me a favor.” He then took a long sip from his mug. “But at any rate, he’s a total ass.”
“Would you say he’s a whole ass?” Jenkins asked, with a coy smirk and raised eyebrows.
Derrek caught on and replied, “No, but I’d say he’s an asshole.” Jenkins went into another laughing fit, while Derrek smiled faintly as he finished his coffee. “What time is it anyway? I have a meeting with him at nine, and you know how much of a stickler for punctuality he is.” He pushed back his dark brown hair and checked the clock on his computer.
8:56 a.m.
“Oh shit!” he said in a hushed yell as he scrambled to gather his materials. He had papers he printed the night before, but he also needed to transfer the presentation he had spent so much time on to his flash drive.
He had everything he needed and was on his way to the conference room, after thanking Jenkins for the coffee. As he rushed past his busy coworkers, he caught a glimpse of the clock that hung above the west wall.
8:59:42 a.m.
I can make it! thought Derrek. This was right before he tripped over the service dog of his coworker Jerry, which he claimed was for his bum knee. He was sure Jerry didn’t need it. He just wanted an excuse to bring his dog to work. But whenever anyone asked him about it, Jerry would just say, “Legally, you can’t ask me that,” until they went away.
The dog let out a loud yip as Derrek crashed onto the floor, breaking his fall with his left shoulder. His papers were scattered across the floor. The cheap carpeting gave him a nasty carpet burn on his forearm; it was a bad choice to roll up his sleeves.
Jerry jumped out of his chair. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” He had no sympathy for Derrek, who was collecting his papers as quickly as he could.
He found all his papers but couldn’t find the flash drive. His eyes darted across the off-gray carpet for it. It was between the legs of the dog, who was now growling at him. Derrek scooped it up in a quick motion while not breaking eye contact with the dog. He then turned to Jerry. “Remind me how this helps with your knee?” he asked as he went on his way to the manager’s office.
“Legally, you can’t ask me that!” Jerry called out.
Derrek turned his head back to Jerry, and right before he was out of earshot, he said, “Well, legally, you’re a dick!”
He rushed his way to the conference room, running at a near-full sprint, and came to a stop only a few inches before he would have hit the door. He took a brief second to straighten his tie and brush the dust off his shoulders, and then he knocked. As soon as he heard, “Come in!” he opened the door and entered the room.
The first thing he heard after the door closed was his manager saying, “You’re late.” Derrek looked at the clock that hung above the projection screen.
9:02:24 a.m.
Crap, he thought. He knew this was going to be another fifteen-minute spiel about punctuality. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hanes. I tripped over Jerry’s dog on the way—”
Hanes cut him off, “There you go, blaming your shortcomings on others. Can’t even take responsibility for your failures? I swear, if all my employees acted the way you do—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the door opened. Hanes was ready to chew out whoever was on the other side for having the audacity to enter without knocking before realizing it was William Shale standing before him.
He looked at Hanes and said, “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
“Um … no, Mr. Shale. I was just scolding Derrek here on his tardiness.”
“Tardiness? The meeting was set at nine, right? It’s only a couple of minutes past now.”
“Well, yes, but being late by even one minute shows a certain lack of professionalism.”
“I understand where you’re coming from, but isn’t it company policy to give a five-minute grace period for all meetings?”
“Well … yes, I suppose it is.”
“And I think you should cut him some slack, considering he’s late because he was up all night doing the work I had asked you to do.”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Erm … well, I had more pressing matters, so I delegated the task to Derrek.”
Shale raised an eyebrow. “More pressing matters? Do you mean that new vampire rom-com? What was it called … Love Sucks?”
Hanes’s face turned bright red. He wanted out of this conversation, so he let out a forced coughing fit. Then he said, “Right, so the lodging. Do you have the arrangements, Derrek?”
Derrek flashed a thankful smile to Shale. “Yes, everything has been approved by the Schadenfreude hotel. I managed to arrange for a single flight for all our passengers with cargo space for our equipment. I rented a small warehouse for the month for storage. All the vehicle arrangements are in order, and we even came out six hundred dollars under budget.”
Shale raised his eyebrow again. “Schadenfreude? What a strange name for a hotel.”
“I thought so too, but they had the best ratings in our price range. Plus, the owner is apparently a fan of Americans. She jumped at the chance to have two hundred of us on her property. I have it all printed out and the charts mapped on this flash drive. I can pull it up right—”
Hanes interjected, “No, no, that will be quite all right. I trust your judgment. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I believe I have to take a call.” He left the room, putting his silent phone to his ear, pretending to have a conversation until he was sure they couldn’t hear him.
Shale looked at his watch. “Let’s see, the meeting was set to run until nine-thirty, and it looks like we still have about twenty-five minutes left.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a rectangular wooden box with a checkered pattern. He shook it, rattling the insides. “Up for a game?”
Derrek grew a cocky smile, “Oh, you’re on.”
Shale set the box on the table, undid a latch on the side, and emptied the contents onto the surface. Among them were two bags of chess pieces, one black, one white, a notepad with a score count and an attached pen, and a small trophy made of tin foil spray-painted gold. He then laid the box down checker side up, grabbed the white set of pieces, and began setting his side while Derrek did the same with the black pieces.
“I keep telling you, son, you really need to stop overworking yourself like this,” said Shale as he put the last of his pieces in place.
“I can handle a lot worse. It was only a day and a half this time anyway. Remember a couple of years ago? I didn’t go home for six days straight!”
“Even so, you know I worry about you. You haven’t willingly taken a single vacation day since I brought you on.”
“Oh, come on, I was an unpaid intern for the first six years. You know they don’t get any vacation time.”
“I would’ve had you a lot higher up a lot sooner, but you were twelve! There was legally nothing I could do there! But you still turned it down when I offered it.”
“Hey, if the work never rests, then I won’t either.”
Shale let out a bellowing laugh. “I swear, you remind me so much of myself when I was young.”
Derrek rolled his eyes, “You say that every time we talk.”
“And it’s true every time I say it.”
“Yeah yeah, you’re full of clichés. I know you’re just stalling ’cause you know I’m going to win,” Derrek said, brandishing a half-smile.
“Oh am I? I’d better get things started then,” Shale said as he moved his left-most pawn two spaces. “By the way, do you know what today is?”
“Thursday?” Derrek replied as he made his first move, getting his right knight out.
“It’s Friday, actually, but that’s not what I meant,” he said, waiting a few seconds to see if Derrek could remember.
Derrek couldn’t remember, which caused Shale to sigh loudly. “It’s the anniversary of the first time we played against each other.”
Derrek’s eyes lit up with that revelation. “Oh yeah! Fifteen years ago today I whooped your ass and took your twenty dollars!”
“That’s right! Really taught me a lesson about underestimating my opponent.”
“Then you offered me a job.”
“You looked like you needed it, considering you were hustling people in chess just to get food in your stomach.”
“Wasn’t my fault. The foster system doesn’t work. I was bound to end up there one way or another,” Derrek said with a grin as he pushed his bishop onto the field.
“Be that as it may, I knew there was something special in you.”
“You said that then too, and let me tell you, it did not help your case.”
Shale chuckled a little, moving to get his bishop onto the field. “But you still gave it a shot, and I’m glad you did, son.”
“I was homeless, and you offered me hot food, a place to live, a paying job, and someone who could match me in chess. You gave me a second chance, Will.”
“You were the first one to beat me in thirty years, and ever since you’ve been challenging me, making me want to be better than I am,” he said as Derrek took his rook. “In fact, I’d like to make a little wager.”
“Oh really? Want to lose another twenty dollars?”
“Not quite,” Shale said as he moved his queen to take Derrek’s knight. “I’m thinking something a bit more high stakes.”
“Forty?”
Shale laughed. “No, not money. Something much more valuable than that.”
Derrek couldn’t imagine what he was going to wager but was eager to find out, “All right, let me hear it,” he said as he moved his rook to defend his king.
“If I win, then you have to take a vacation.”
“Come on, Will, where would I even go?”
“You said we were six hundred dollars under budget on the survey team, right? That’s enough for the ticket, and I’m sure they’ll let you get another room for the time with what’s left. Plus, since you’ll be on a business trip, you can satisfy your workaholism.”
“That … actually doesn’t sound like the worst thing. It would be kind of nice to get some real field experience. But what if I win?” he asked, moving his queen to lure Shale’s queen into a trap.
Shale smiled and said, “If you win, then the company is yours.”
Derrek looked at him, eyes wide in surprise, not sure he heard him right. “The company?”
“That’s right.”
“Frostbyte?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Mine?”
“Yours and yours alone.”
A moment passed as Derrek realized what this could mean for him. He had spent the last fifteen years climbing the ladder, pushing himself harder and harder to be the best he could be, and this was the ultimate prize. He looked at his hands, which he had spent so long working to the bone, then looked at Shale and said, “You’ve got a deal.”
Shale smiled and moved his queen away from Derrek’s trap, taking his rook and cornering his king. “Checkmate.”
Derrek jumped up and stared at the board, mouth agape, amazed he could have missed a move like that. He slumped back down into his chair and said, “You’re a cruel man, Will. You knew what I was setting up the whole time, didn’t you?”
Shale crossed his arms and put on a smug face, proud of his victory. “You’ve pulled the same move one hundred and forty-three times. You had to expect it wasn’t going to work at some point. Would you please do the honors?”
Derrek grumbled comically, more for a gag than airing his grievances, as he grabbed the notepad and wrote the new score: 1532 to 1531, advantage Shale.
“I swear, I’m going to pull out ahead when this is all over with. You won’t get me with that trick again,” Derrek said as he gathered his pieces back into his bag.
“Trick? What trick are you talking about?” Shale asked as he did the same.
“Tempting me with the company. I knew there was no way you’d bet it if you didn’t know you were going to win.”
“I was serious, son.”
Derrek could tell by looking in Shale’s eyes that he was telling the truth. It was the same look he’d had when he’d first offered Derrek his job. As he put the last piece in his bag, he said, “If you were serious about that, then I guess I was serious about my end as well.”
Shale’s eyes lit up. He was ecstatic Derrek was going to finally take a break. He put the pieces, notepad, and trophy back into the chess box and tucked it back into his jacket pocket. As he got up to leave, he said, “Wonderful! I’ll have the personnel change put through immediately and have Hanes take care of your arrangements.”
He put his hand on the doorknob, but before he opened the door, he turned to Derrek to say, “If you ever want to play for keeps again, I’d be happy to send you on another vacation.”
“Do you really think I have what it takes to run Frostbyte?”
Shale raised an eyebrow. “Doubtful of my judgment? I wouldn’t risk it unless I knew it was in good hands.”
“I’m only twenty-seven. Don’t you think it’ll go over poorly with the board?”
“As long as you prove yourself, you’ll be fine.”
“But what if I can’t?”
“Son, you proved yourself the first time you had me in checkmate.” Shale left, leaving Derrek alone in the conference room.
He gathered his materials and headed back to his desk. He passed by Jerry’s cubicle, avoiding eye contact and stepping around his dog, who was still lying down in the middle of the walkway.
When he got back to his little slice of life, he sat in his swivel chair and covered his face with his hands, exhausted both physically and emotionally. He looked at his desk to check his inbox but found something that wasn’t there when he left.
There was a steaming mug of coffee with a note tucked underneath it that read, “Looked like you could use it. —N Jenkins.”
Derrek smiled and took a sip. Afterward, he looked at the coffee with a puzzled look on his face, which shifted to one of annoyance.
Milk.
He smiled again and took another sip.