Novels2Search

Projectile Vanilla

As the weeks on the job went by, Sharp found himself settling into a groove. He was earning enough money to keep the hounds off his heels, and he didn't have to live in his car anymore, but corporate life at the bottom was wearing on him. Since he still needed the paycheck, he'd cope by playing games.

This week he was showing up at the last minute of the grace period as a form of protest, and still be officially on time. Unfortunately for his anemic attention span, the game was loosing its challenge. He had begun wondering if he could clock in at the same second, say five minutes and forty-three seconds past the hour every day for a week, or get a second closer and closer to being late every day just to see if Wudgepuck would notice. It was childish really. Just like his job.

He had tried asking for a raise and greater responsibilities at the three month mark. He wanted access to the DARPA funded projects. In his mind, changing mice out in a cool lab was better than doing it at the secretary pool, but even despite accidentally thwarting an employee theft ring and solving every IT problem they threw at him, Darity's efforts to increase his salary and job scope were rejected. Novell promised to look into it, but that was a week ago and Sharp entertained himself by playing chicken with the time clock.

This day had gone well with no complaints. He was barely not late again, and the IT issues were easy. Unpaired mice, dead AR goggles, bluetooth keyboard conflicts, and a smart toilet that wouldn’t stop telling dad jokes. He had just replaced a printer in administration that had been taken out by a power surge. Nobody bothered to talk to him, and the swap out and setup were painless.

Sharp was riding an elevator full of people trying to avoid him down to the ground level for his next job. A new text message popped-up on his display. He slid his eyes over his current work task list, checked off a few items, and quietly transcribed an update for Darity, but then he took the text on his phone to keep it private. People got on and off the elevator and left him alone, just how he liked it.

Novell: You still giving my girl a hard time?

Sharp: Whatr you talking abt?

Novell: She’s preparing an all cilantro dish for you for tomorrow.

Sharp: I thought shed forgvn me

Novell: What? No angry face? No LOL?

Sharp: She just stopped all the toilets

Novell: She plugged up the toilet?

Sharp: No! Look. Abt the wknd. I rlly wanna work on my proj

Novell: It’s your funeral. Darity will see red. You got something good finally?

Sharp: Could be

Novell: What? What? Spill it!

Sharp: Think Pocket Beasts crossed with a castle siege

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Novell: You’re programming a game? Bro, it’s been years! Give me the deets.

Sharp: No way. I don’t want Bloop to own it cuz I talked on company time. Gotta go. Last job.

Novell: Jerk. I’ll let you break the news to Darity.

Sharp was certain his new project would turn his luck around and maybe fill his pockets with coin, too, but he’d die before letting Wudgepuck lay claim to it under work for hire. That’s why he was careful to never even think about it when working at Bloop.

Wait. Don't they read our texts? Wudgepuck…

The thought occurred to Sharp just as he stepped out of the building into the campus quad. He didn’t even noticed the gorgeous blue sky and warm sun as he stepped out of the building’s shadow. He was too busy kicking himself for letting Novell bait him into even that minuscule of a reveal.

Maybe I can misdirect.

Sharp: Sorry. Autocorrect from hell. Think *Pork Beasts* crossing a *colander sieve*. A chef fights off zombie pigs who try to ruin dinner

There was no reply from Novell as Sharp entered B2 and stepped into the elevator. That wasn’t surprising. Novell was running the company. He didn’t have a lot of time to chat during the day. As the doors closed, they revealed a handmade flyer taped at eye level: “There is no T in REAM”.

Heh. Somebody after my own heart…

As he passed the fourth floor, a pop-up flashed in his display.

Novell: I preferred the typo version. Aren’t colanders and sieves the same thing? I guess I’d have to see it.

Sharp: you’ll love it

He stepped out of the elevator onto the sixth floor and called up the work order as the stats dashboard phased into a background layer. He kept his work tablet for show, and let his AI bots sync the data, but it was far more efficient to use his own virtua displays. His next big thing after Zero Carbs was now his one big shot to put him on top again, as long as he could keep it under wraps. First, the game had to net seed money. That way he could tell VCs to get stuffed.

Oh, joy. Printer problems at accounting… Didn’t I hear they burned me in effigy?

His eyes flicked onto the site location and loaded the built in map which slid in over the document screen. A bot located him in relation to his next assignment and mapped out his path on the screen. There were no other posted flyers distracting from the plastic plants and color coordinated abstract art that communicated nothing except, “We match the carpet.”

The telecommunications dashboard popped up over the location guide layer, both overpowering the bronze smear with teal spatters that adorned the wall in front of him. This time, Novell was calling.

Way too much noise. I've got to simplify the UI.

Sharp took the call.

“Bro, are you sure about that game concept? I mean, how do you go from rethinking cryptocurrencies and shattering mining shibboleths to zombie pigs?"

Sharp shook his head and laughed.

“Novell, do you record text and phone calls here?”

“You know we do. All communications on a company’s premises are company property. It’s the law.”

“Then all I can say is that zombie pigs are going to be bringing home the bacon.”

“That’s a terrible pun.”

“It isn’t a pun. It’s a terrible play on words. Looks like I arrived at accounting.”

Sharp poked his head through the door and saw rows and rows of cubicles with harried employees furiously typing. Nobody paid him any attention. No management approached him.

This is the place, right?

He launched his AI maintenance script to begin jacking into all the AR Decks within his near vicinity, revealing rows of decrypted screens floating in the air as his AR contact lenses took in all the data while virtua screens displayed various networking stats. None showed printer problems. There were no problems that he could see at all.

“Is this where the broken printer was reported?” he called out while darting his eyes left and right. The employees continued to ignore him.

“Maybe you’re on the wrong floor?” Novell suggested.

A vanilla shake seemed to materialize inches from Sharp’s head and exploded on the right side of the door. His face became splattered with cold goop. Wiping his face with his shirt sleeve, he looked up to see all the accountants silently glaring at him.

“Looks like I’m at the right place. Gotta go.”

Sharp strode into the room and replaced the spatters on his face with a grim smile.