The Office, the coastal cities government building. Housing Myokans trying to find a home for the Housing Progress. It’s the tallest building in the entire city. Spanning 10 floors. It is one of the most technologically advanced places on the continent. Made of brick and the iconic redwood Lisko is known for. Dishes and towers all line the top of the building.
Radios, TVs, even cameras. Very rare among average citizens of the city. It’s said they even have TVs with color in the highest Offices. All radio stations for the area are also out of the Office. Occasionally with special guests and events that encourage people to the building.
Early morning Myokans all from the border wait on the fences of the building. Most will probably have to live at the Offices until someone volunteers to house them. They’re not even supposed to get jobs at that time due to possible moving difficulties. Some Myokans are even put far west in the rural farms, some even in traditional Nomad villages. Ones with no technology whatsoever.
Geurk now sits with those fortunate souls. Passed out, face leaning onto the wired fence. Last night had treated him terribly. His dark hair is all disheveled, more than usual, and he has deep bags under his eyes. He softly snores into the metal, clutching his bag close to him.
Some sleep the same near him, a few awake and sitting. Staring at the closed ornate door that would decide their fates. It was ironically decorated with flowers and clouds. The carvings were quite impressive, commissioned by a famous Lisk carpenter from the west. Though now people only stare in spite.
Suddenly a bell rang, reverberating throughout the city square. Through staticky megaphones, a voice is heard,
“It is now 7 am. The doors will open till midday. Thank you, please keep all your belongings in sight.”
Many wake to the boom of sound. Murmuring and sighing at the interruption. The sun greets them through scattered leaves and shawls, and the tall trees around the whole area keep it cool. They all quickly get into line, albeit messily and disjointed. Geurk still soundly sleeps with his jacket as a blanket. Suddenly though a hand shakes him awake.
He jumps and almost slaps the man who leans over him, but he recognizes his mentor immediately. Hugo. A Nukkan who worked at the Office. A larger man who was pale, as all Nukkans were. Dark short hair slicked back so you could easily see his thick glasses. He wore a button-up with a sweater, patterned with holiday shapes and snowflakes. It was still winter after all, despite the now nice weather. Around his neck was an ID card attached to a lanyard, showing a BD pass. Geurk cringes as the pass sways near his face. Hugo speaks in his soft voice,
“Good morning Lough. I heard about your change.”
Geurk blinks a few more times, rubbing his eyes.
“Don’t call me that man. But yeah, the guy couldn’t take care of me or something.”
“Yes. That’s what we heard. Would you rather be called by your middle name? We have formalities.”
“Geurk. Call me Geurk, How long have I known you, man?”
Geurk chuckles and stands up, feeling his bare feet on the brick walkways outlining the building. Freezing and clutching his jacket around himself. Though Hugo chuckles back.
“For quite a while now. You are my apprentice after all. Alright, I’m sure the higher-ups won’t mind.”
They follow behind the others in line. Hearing the click of a small desk bell over and over. Hugo just smiles softly, waiting. Geurk taps his foot and fumbles with his bag, yawning intermittently.
They finally enter the building, it warmer than the breeze outside. A small fire crackles in the waiting area. Everything seems quite old and ornate. Detailed chairs settle around the space, with complex fabric to boot. Lisk paintings line the walls, with the iconic soft swooshing style. Along with the warmer colors and stylized settings. Lisks never did favor the realism that Nukkans praised.
To the side is a small desk, with a shorter woman looking down at her mountains of papers. Thin and white sheets at that, something rare in most areas. She looks up, her freckled face smiling back at the two. She had her long curly hair tied back in a loose green bow. Hugo smiles wide at her and says,
“Cally, we’re just here to go up to my office. I have mine here. We just need to discuss a few things.”
“Sure thing Mr. Sibbern. The door will be open for you.”
Her voice was high and happy, it must've been a good morning for her. Geurk squints at her tone, following his mentor to the building's shoddy elevator. It squeaks and creaks as they stand in it. Hugo clicks floor 8. He then starts to happily hum, his back straight with his hands behind his back. Versus Geurk with his head between his shoulders, leaning over himself.
“Leto also mentioned how you didn’t speak of your training.” Hugo lets out over the screeching of the elevator.
“Yeah. I didn’t.”
A moment passes as the elevator jerks to a halt, suddenly the sound of typing and clicks floods the floor. The door opening to the main work part of the offices, paperwork. Geurk looks around at the faces of people in their cubicles, tired and glazed. Hugo starts to drag him to a familiar office at the end of the large room. A lovely door with the name “Hugo Sibbern” printed onto paper.
“Well, I’m surprised. Most enjoy talking about the opportunity.”
Another door opens into Hugo’s office. It’s dark and spotless. All the papers were in the right place, the desk looked brand new, and his radio was white. It was one of the newer ones, able to go to very high frequencies. Those are only used by lifters.
Sitting down on the small chair across from the desk, Geurk sighs as he drops his things.
“Isn’t this whole gig despised by everyone?”
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“Well yes. But it’s important. I’m proud of you… Geurk. Many that we train boast it all the way down to the border.”
“Well, thanks? I wouldn’t want anyone knowing I’m stealing their information.”
Hugo sighs,
“That’s not what the position is for Geurk. Do you still have your radio?”
Geurk scrambles to his bag, taking out a small radio and a headset. One that’s seen better days. He sets them on the desk.
“Ah… does it still work?”
“Yeah don’t worry, man. I just dropped it a few times.”
“…did you paint it purple?”
“Oh! Yeah man! It fits my whole gig. It’s just spray paint.”
“No wonder your transmissions have been rough.”
Geurks whole outfit was shades of purple. He’s committed to it for the last few years. Monochromatic anything was easy, and he thought he looked good so he didn’t care. Everything revolves around his old high school letterman, a lilac thing with many light blue patches speckled around it. Including his BD pass.
Hugo sighs and picks up the configuration. It did seem alright. He turned on the radio, unplugging the headset. It fuzzed to life, distant voices could be heard. He sets it to the Lift free talk frequency. 111.1. Much of the transmissions were mainly Morse code, but there was a voice. One Geurk didn’t recognize.
“Burherry town, 642, anyone around to talk? I come with information Tango.”
Hugo nods and comments,
“Well, it can receive well. Why don’t you talk to them, Lough?”
Geurk gives him a glance, an expression that shows really? He sighs and takes the radio from him. Clicking a button on the top of it to transmit.
“642, this is Papa 7 Lima, Tango heard. What’s it about?”
A moment of static silence. Geurk leans his elbow onto the desk, lazing his hands on a few papers. But then the voice calls again.
“Papa 7 Lima, 642, I’ll be changing frequencies soon. Calico is in position and I have yet to identify who they’re with. Are you catching me?”
Geurk chuckles, though Hugo looks skeptical. He cocks his head, suddenly realizing it’s some sort of Myokan inside joke. 642 must’ve recognized Geurks accent. To us, it’d be sort of northeast United States.
“Oh, 642, I hear you loud and clear. What’s the coat?”
Hugo jumps.
“Are- you two talking about some woman on a restricted frequency? That’s immature Lough. Please keep it off air-“
“C'mon Hughs let me have some fun. I’ve been stressed lately.”
“Sure… just. Not in my office please.”
The radio suddenly beeps with Morse code, and someone takes up space. Only one person can talk at a time on the radio. Geurk sighs but smirks at the Nukkan.
“…the bird can wait I guess.”
He waits till the morse stops to transmit back.
“642, sorry man. Mentors got a stick up his ass. Will report later to Burherry town. Clear.”
Hugo sighs, immediately turning the radio off in Geurk’s hand. Staring at him with a small frown.
“Lough, please. That’s a terrible thing to say. Can you just have a moment where you don’t swear on professional frequencies?”
“I can say a lot worse man. Fine though, I’ll work on it. When I’m out of here and not working with you I’ll figure it out.”
“Do you promise that? Violations are a big-“
“I’m not some kid Hugo. I’m a grown-ass man.”
Hugo’s frown changes into a small smile, him chuckling.
“Fine. We can finally discuss why I’ve brought you up here then.”
“It wasn’t just a radio check?”
The swivel of Hugo’s chair rings in the room. He scoots back to one of his many file cabinets. Sifting through the papers, one thick file is picked out. It plops right down onto the desk. Coming with a loud Fwomp.
“Well a check was in order, I’m just here to find you a new housemate!”
“Can’t I stay in the office for like a week? It’d be, uh, nice to just not worry about that.”
A hand taps on the wood, the only sound besides the clicking from the outside.
“I understand that, but you are first in line for the volunteering due to your training. And unfortunately, you do have to stay in the city.”
Geurk hums annoyed.
“And Lough, we can find someone who’ll be a good match for you. I trust I can know somewhat what you’d like.”
“I’m not gonna date them or something. Can't you just get any quiet guy and put me with em’? Or a bird? Or keep Leto on standby?”
“You know what I mean. And women are less likely to be a part of this. It's important for you and the volunteer. They don’t have to lend their house out to those in the program but they do. And I think I already have a match for you.”
“Really? It’s only been like a day-“
“Well he volunteered yesterday, he is very nice. I guarantee you two will get along fine.”
Taking out a paper from the file he puts it down in front of Geurk. A picture of a smiling Lisk man greets him. Mid-length curly hair and a dorky smile. He wears the earrings that nomads do. Known for their devotion to old Lisk mythos and culture. Sporting an orange flowered button-up and a peasant shirt. He doesn’t look worrisome at all, but Geurk squints.
“Some nomad?”
“Yes, Lough. He came from the west, he’s traditional.”
“Oh. Are you sure I can’t take the week at the office?”
“Geurk, this’ll be good for you. I know you are not very knowledgeable on these things. And from what I could tell you two would get along fine.”
“Can I think on it?”
“I can only give you 24 hours before you have to wait in line. I’m sorry.”
Geurk crosses his arms while leaning back in the chair. He was thankfully one of the first to get into the Housing Progress. Unfortunately, the line took even a few weeks to get through. The office does have nice amenities. Even a few showers, which was rare. But it was like a dormitory, with small rooms, and thin walls. And nothing like the Myokan’s homes in the South. It was quiet at night and dark. Most were stuck in the building with not much to do. Geurk mumbles,
“I’ll take that time. Tell me more about him.”
“Here, take his file. Maybe go meet him, I’m sure he’ll understand. He’s northwest near the markets. He sells his plants, quite the worker.”
Geurk sits up, grabs the papers, and shoves them into his bag. He waves nonchalantly to Hugo, him smiling back and settling the file back in its perfect little space.
He’s greeted again by the clacking and writing of the office. Looking at the people's faces again with reverence. Thinking that maybe if he stays here too long his energy will drain like theirs. Though he bets they all deny their stresses. God knows he does.
Waiting for the squeaky elevator is numbing as well. Another person stands next to him, a radio headset on their head. He could tell it was low frequency, less wires, and choking hazards. All they do is hum as the door opens and both of them plan to go to the first floor.
He makes his way outside the office before midday. When their doors close for a short time. It's surprisingly nice outside. A small breeze and clear skies. The sun is warming up everything. Where in the shade it’s nice and cool.
He finally decides to read the paper. In flowery fancy handwriting, there’s only the volunteer's first name.
Hasse.