The rain came down in sheets. Waves sliding down the street and the uncovered sidewalks. Most flowed into the gutters, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Quite a bit descended the stairs into the subway. While this made the trip up the stairs treacherous, it was nothing new. In fact, it was something I, and most everyone else, prayed for. The rain was the only thing that cleaned some of the built-up dirt and grime after all.
Stepping out from under the aged, cracked plastic covering the subway entrance, I crossed the street. I avoided the piles of trash and other assorted items littering the gutters, being more careful with where I walked than looking for any sort of vehicle. After all, even the rich no longer used cars unless they had no choice — not with how expensive gas was.
The bay door of the building in front of me was wide open, letting in fresh, cool air and washing away the smell of hot metal and grease as various machines ground down pieces of metal. I made my way past the lone guard and walked through the shop to my workstation. Xander was already there, setting up for our first order of the day.
“Morning Xander,” I called as I tossed my small bag under the worktable. Picking up the order to give it a look. It was a simple piece of metal tubing. The machine Xander was setting up would cut it to length while my machine would swage it into shape.
“Morning Alex,” Xander finally said as he got closer. His tall six-foot-four height dwarfed my five-five. Not that his height mattered when combined with his personality. While I was willing to make myself heard, he was soft-spoken and typically kept to himself. Only talking if required, and even then he would sometimes just walk away. It took over a year of working with him before he felt comfortable enough to talk with me.
“Simple job,” I commented as I turned on my machine, getting everything warmed up and ready for when he had the first batch of parts for me. “Who do you think this one is for?”
“Military,” Was his simple answer.
“You always think it’s the military.”
“No, sometimes the orders are for some…” he started, before I joined in, “secret government experiment.” We stared at each other for a good three seconds before bursting into a fit of laughter. Laughter that has me chuckling until after he passed the first basket of metal tubes to work on.
Selecting the program, I load up the first tube, letting the machine run as I put in a single earphone and started an audiobook. While it was against company policy to listen to anything, our manager was pretty lenient. It helped that he had worked on the floor for over a decade before becoming a manager.
Taking the first part out of the machine a moment later, I verified that everything was where it was supposed to be. Measuring each part with calipers before finally taking it over to the quality guy for our section of the floor. “Hi Roberto, got time to do a first article for me?”
“Sure, let me finish Laura’s first,” the old guy said from where he sat. Laura stood just off to the side.
“Got ours done first,” she said as she smiled. It had become something of a competition between our teams to see who could get the first item out every day. From time to time, other groups had tried to join in, but none got any jobs that were as fast as ours. It helped that our teams were the only ones with machines that could do the work.
“You're good,” Roberto stamped her page before handing both it and the part back to her. “Now get, I would like to get some coffee after I finish Alex’s job, and cannot do that if you both are hovering.” She waved over her shoulder as she walked over to her machines Roberto grabbed my part. He broke out the drawing, comparing the part to it and the listed measurements before stamping my paperwork as well.
I knew better than to wait for him to dismiss me. If I had, he would have put our orders at the back of the line for the rest of the day, slowing everything down for no reason other than to be petty. As I placed the part into the empty box on the table, every machine turned off. They didn’t grind to a halt. They didn’t crash. The power simply cut out.
The building went deathly silent. Somewhere, a tiny piece of metal hit the ground. As if the sudden tinking sound was a trigger, the room exploded into yelling as people tried to figure out what was going on. Neither Xander nor I joined in. We were paid to do a job. If something happened to prevent us from doing it, then it was up to management to fix it. After all, I couldn’t order parts or arrange for repairs to the building.
A loud buzzing sound filled the room as the building's antiquated sound system switched on, pitched just right that I had to cover my ears. I was fairly sure that I would have heard it even if the machines were still running. Slowly, the buzzing faded, replaced with the building manager's voice. “Mandatory meeting in the breakroom in five minutes.” As always, his announcements were simple and to the point.
I put the work paged into the finished parts box. The moment we got back we would have to see about splitting the order. I was not looking forward to the paperwork. Maybe I could get Xander to do it this time. I shot him a look as he grabbed his water bottle from the desk. He must have known what I was thinking because as he walked past me, he said, “No, I did it last time.”
Joining him and the rest of the throng, I faked a pout, pitching my voice up a tiny bit as I innocently said, “But Xander, you have to. I don’t remember how to properly fill out the paperwork.” I timed my response just right. He spit the mouthful of water onto the jacket of the person in front of us. The guy shot a glare at us before moving on. He was a third-shifter, just about ready to go home, so the water wasn’t going to do anything the rain wouldn’t in half an hour.
“Dude!” Xander said as he wiped his mouth. He shot me an exasperated look as he continued talking, “You know not to use that damn voice.”
“Why?” I asked with as much innocence as I could muster.
“You know why.” Seeing that I wasn’t going to relent, he groaned before finally saying, “You sound like a chick. Combined with your looks…” He didn’t dare finish the sentence. If he had, he knew he would pay for it — not immediately. I wasn’t that mean. No, it would be a small thing here, a small thing there. Little acts of revenge. Just enough to keep him on edge, knowing another one was coming but not when or where it would come from
I didn’t get to say anything back as we walked into the breakroom. The room was just big enough for everyone to stand, but little else. The room was loud as people talked, growing louder as each group tried to be heard over everyone else. After a minute, I contemplated leaving before I suffered permanent hearing damage.
Fortunately the building manager popped his upper half above the crowd. Everyone that noticed stopped talking, elbowing the neighbors that didn’t. Within seconds, the room grew quiet. The loudest sound was that of various jackets rustling. Finally, he spoke. “Good morning everyone.”
Some people started to talk, likely to demand answers, but he held up his hand and continued. “I know that some of you just finished your shift and want to go home, while the rest of you are just getting in, but this meeting is important and cannot wait. Not that it was my choice either way. So, instead of glaring at me, why not glare at the man that demanded this meeting.”
He gestured to another man, who stepped up to join him. The newcomer wore a sharply pressed business suit. His eyes passing over each of us as he catalogued everything. Judging by his expression, he did not like what he saw. When he did start to speak, his voice was quiet. I had to strain to hear him as he said, “I am sorry to announce that each of you are being let go as of today.”
The room went from deadly silent to visibly shaking the walls. People were demanding answers, threatening, and even throwing out curses. Others simply broke down and cried. I looked down at my feet as my mind raced through everything as it tried to figure out what I could do and where I could go. That was probably why I had no warning before a shrill noise filled the room, causing everyone to clap their hands over their ears.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
When the noise finally cut off, no one spoke. I hesitated to lower my hands, worried it would return, and I wasn’t the only one. Only after a minute did the man resume talking, albeit a bit louder this time. “Each of you will be given a severance based on your length of service as well as the state's mandated severance package. After you receive it, you are to vacate the premises. Anyone found loitering around afterward will be declared a trespasser and dealt with accordingly.” He was blunt, as if we were beneath him. Not worthy of his time or care. “Each of you will be called by last name.” With that, he stepped down and out of sight.
While most of us were stunned at the news, noise filled the room as some people cried and others babbled. A woman next to me collapsed onto a bench, crying. She had only finished her orientation earlier this week, and yet here she was forced to find yet another job. Given this economy, it would be a miracle if any of us found something.
Turning, I pulled Xander over to one of the open doors. We stepped out under the porch cover. Both of our last names were fairly low in the alphabet, so it would be quite a while before either of us were called.
“Told you they were going to lay us off,” he said it in that told-you-so tone that typically pissed people off, but his face told me he really wished he had been wrong.
I leaned against the wall, watching the rain as it tried to pound the tables into the ground. My tone was flat as I asked, “How did you know?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shrug. “One of my cousins worked at a factory in Georgetown. Everyone there was laid off and replaced with AI and machines. From the rumors I have heard, the military told the company to increase production or they would take over.”
“Why would they want us to increase production of anything we make?” As far as I knew, nothing we made was used in the military at the moment.
“Not my problem anymore.” We stood there in silence as he took a pull from his vape. “So, what’s your plan? Any thoughts on where you might apply?”
I laughed. “Not a fucking clue. No one’s hiring right now.” No one had been for the past year. I knew this because I had been looking to move up. Maybe make a bit more money or do less work for the same pay. “How about you?”
“I have a bit of savings and was thinking about getting one of the used pods and trying my hand at making money in one of the new games.” I had to hold back from laughing at the thought. Looking over at him, though, I realized he was absolutely serious.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What game has Mr. ‘Never Plays an Online Game for Fear of Being Tracked’ interested?”
“Don’t forget that I am Mr. Antisocial too,” he shot back as a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Have you ever heard of the game Ascent to Aetheria?”
“The new full-immersion game?” I shrugged. I had been thinking of playing it but never had the money or time to really dedicate to it since it came out earlier this year. “Pretty sure I won’t be playing it now.”
“Why not?” Xander turned to face me. I kept an eye on him out of the corner of my eye while I watched the rain. The storm let up a bit, as if making sure that I could clearly hear his words clearly. “You’ve been here as long as I have, so you will be getting a decent severance check. Add in the savings I know you have been doing, and I know you can afford one of the cheaper pods. After that it’s up to you how long you take to make some money.” His tone brooked no argument. As if this was all a done deal and that I had no say.
I shook my head, my inner pessimist piping up to point out the flaws in that plan. “Sounds great in theory, but what’s the likelihood that this economy will even support such a game? No other game managed to survive even when the economy was stable and everyone had some money to burn.”
“That’s the kicker.” His hands spread out as if the answer was obvious. “The unstable market and the war are helping to make the game market more stable, not less.”
I rolled my eyes. I wondered at just what sort of logic leaps were required to come up with that conclusion. “And how does that work?”
“With limited options for lavish spending or exotic vacations, the wealthy have turned to gaming. Specifically, games that offer them to do what they want and see things they’ll never see in reality. Which is where the full immersion pods come in. That just leaves the question of what game to play. What company would be better equipped to take full advantage of the pods' technology than the company that developed them?”
“Which just so happens to be the developers of Ascent to Aetheria.”
“Yep. But,” he held up a finger to forestall any more interruptions, “the company has also made a bold guarantee. The conversion value of in-game currency will never fall below twenty-five cents per silver coin. A guarantee backed up by a publicly viewable fund dedicated to maintaining the promised exchange rate.”
Again, I rolled my eyes, ignoring his finger as I spoke. “Now you just sound like a salesman spouting off company lines. Who are you and what did you do to my conspiracy-loving friend?”
He dropped his finger as he took another drag off his vape. “The company doesn’t advertise. All of their products are promoted by word of mouth.”
I frowned. While it had been done before, it was rare for a company to succeed without some sort of advertising. After I pointed this out, he shrugged. “You’re right, it hasn’t been done before. But they are, and it's working. Know what…” He stopped as we both heard his name called by the building manager. “My turn. At least give the idea some thought. If you do decide to take the chance, shoot me a message and we can see about partying up.”
I shook my head but decided to at least do some research. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do while I waited for my name to be called. Looking up the company, I found that it had come out of nowhere. Releasing the first pods as well as the public beta of Ascent to Aetheria early last year. While the pods were not the first ones ever made, they were hands down the best. Or at least that’s what people who tried both said. Curious about the pods and their capabilities, I pulled up the company store and had to work to keep from falling over.
The price started at seventeen grand and skyrocketed from there. Then again, each unit came with free delivery, installation, and maintenance in addition to free unlimited repairs. Every other company charged out the nose just one of these options because they knew they could get away with it. Maybe this company was as well, that would explain the prices.
Shaking my head, I looked for reviews and footage of the game, both official and shared by players. Surprisingly, there were no developer channels or accounts. The reviews I found were from players. Each of whom seemed happy with the game but a bit disappointed that it would force them to log off if you didn’t take care of your physical body from time to time. Various bloggers talked about making money on the game and how easy it was. But considering how fast easy-money spots usually got monopolized, I doubted the guides were useful.
Hearing my name called, I put my phone back in my pocket, still digesting everything I had read. I barely noticed how quiet the building had become or how few people were left as I made my way to the back office. Nodding at the building manager as I entered.
Every other time I had entered this office, it looked like the police had tossed the place. That was not the case this time. The scattered pages were gone, replaced with boxes and cabinets. Metal parts that had leaned against the walls longer than I had worked here were stacked in various milk crates. It looked like the manager was either getting ready to move to another office or had been let go. The suited man sat behind the desk, reading over a document on a tablet.
I stood in front of the desk, waiting for him to notice me. When he did, he glanced up as his stylus swiped across the screen to bring up another document. “Mrs. Alex.” He made it sound more like a statement than a question.
Now, this wasn’t the first time I had been misgendered. It also wouldn’t be the last. Let us just say I had somehow won the genetic lottery for voice, build, and features — just for the opposite gender. That meant I looked and sounded just this side of feminine. Letting out a sigh, I quickly corrected him, not caring how rude I sounded. It wasn’t like I was going to be working for him for much longer anyway. “It’s Mr. I am and always have been male.”
His eyes flicked up to look me over again. “I see. Well it looks like you have been with the company for seven years and have quite a bit of unused PTO and sick time. Coupled with local and federal requirements, your layoff check comes to quite a tidy sum.” He tapped an envelope on his right with the stylus before pushing the tablet toward me. “All you need to sign are these forms and it’s yours.”
I pulled the tablet toward me. “What am I signing, and what would happen if I refuse?” I was going to sign them, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t curious.
“You would be fired for refusing.” His lips lifted in a grin as he practically dared me to do it. “The same law that forces us to lay off our employees in situations such as this also gives the company the right to fire those who refuse.” The smile dropped a bit as he continued, “All these documents say is that you will not sue or defame the company or it’s employees.”
While I was sure he wasn’t lying, I still read over each document before signing. They wouldn’t have been the first company to try to try something shady, nor would they be the last. Surprising, the documents were exactly what he said. The last one even broke down my final paycheck. Seeing the amount was higher than I expected, I quickly signing before they could change their minds.
He took the tablet back from me, holding it with the tips of his fingers. I rolled my eyes. It was almost as if he was afraid the thing was tainted just from my touch. Using the stylus, he pushed the envelope toward me. “Here you go. I wish you luck with finding a new job.” We both knew that was unlikely. This place had been my first job after graduating high school and it would probably be my last.
I hurried out of the office, ignoring the building manager as I made my way back to the machine shop. The place was dead silent as people grabbed their things and dashed out of the building. I was no different. I stuffed the check into the bottom of my lunch box before heading out of the building and onto the sidewalk. The occasional drop of rain sent ripples through the water-filled potholes, but otherwise, the storm had passed. Grabbing my headphones, I put on some music as I crossed the street toward the subway.