I stepped further into the room to see the sheet more clearly in the harsh lighting as the Outer Door cycled closed behind me, cutting off the chill from the exterior again as my eyes skimmed the Corpo Legalese which infested the top third of the page.
My jaw dropped open when I eventually landed on the official notice section.
They’d blamed me.
Blinking at the sheet, I still stood dumbfounded for the full cycle period. The inner door eventually clunked open as the heat waifed into the lock, and rather than feeling welcoming, the room now felt cramped and enclosed, like a prison.
OFFICIAL TERMINATION NOTICE
SUBJECT: [PRICE, O.C.], CC10
CODE PROTOCOL: LACK OF SAFETY AND OVERSIGHT
EVIDENCE: MULTIPLE REPORTS FILED BY SUPERVISORY PARTY
SUPERVISORY PARTY: [MCCREED, M.R.], CC115
SUPERVISORY INPUT: “MULTIPLE DOCUMENTED OCCURRENCES OF UNSAFE PRACTICES, AND FAILURE TO REPORT DANGEROUS EXISTING ENVIRONMENTAL CONDITIONS WHICH LED TO THE LOSS OF A VALUABLE TXCORP ASSET [SEE ATTACHED PERSONNEL FILE OF DECEASED]”
ISSUER: [MCCREED, M.R.], CC115
RESULT: IMMEDIATE TERMINATION. FURTHER LEGAL ACTION PENDING.
I turned the filisheet over, futilely wishing what I’d read was simply some sick joke. Something to haze me, or maybe freak me out for...whatever purpose.
I continued to stall as I rotated, flipped and fluttered the filisheet within my hands, but nothing changed, the notice was still the same. I was forced to finally surrender and admit to myself it was real. As real as the holo stamp on the bottom right corner could make it in the eyes of the Corporate Courts.
I was in for some real trouble.
Despite being a falsified accounting of the actual events, the semi-transparent sheet listed me as the sole reason for the death of the kid. Clear as day in black and red, and stated as truthful; It was damning.
Worse? It also claimed there was previous history leading up to the event. All backed up by a digital trail.
Striding across the room to the workbench, I slumped onto the seat. All the energy drained out of my limbs as I stared out the slit of a rear view-port.
Now fully visible without anything to block them, the triple cluster of the Spire towered over the landscape as the lights and moving machinery of the Port struck an eerily beautiful backdrop, silently dancing across the horizon and non-visible shore.
The entire view felt like some alien landscape in a science fiction novel as lightning struck something in the distance. I winced a little as it did so, motes of electricity dancing along the rightmost tower, the TxCorp tower, which absorbed the impact stoically. Unaffected.
It felt more than a little symbolic: Lightning and a Tower. A mythical representation of unexpected and sudden change.
Before all of it. Before I’d seen the kid throw himself happily to his own demise. I’d gone to McCreed directly and asked of a way to prove my willingness for TxCorp and my chances for advacement . The insistence of Dora to push for as much leverage as possible to reach next Class Rating was intense, and my lack of progress had been the source of...a lot of our arguments.
McCreed for his part, had been ecstatic and had told me so, often giving me little nuggets of wisdom and advice along the way. I’d mistaken it as gaining a mentor. A guiding hand. Someone older and who might already have a lot of it figured out.
Instead, my future, and Dora’s by association, had been derailed. Our thread of fate cut because I'd tried--and failed--to help some third-kid of an Exec Family I hadn't even bothered to know, while working a shift rotation I wasn't supposed to be assigned to. I’d already passed disbelief and was now moving into acceptance.
It was clear: I was a Patsy.
But the kid?
I subconsciously swallowed, feeling the sting.
Harnessed, hanging fifty feet in the air, I’d tried to help him.
I'd been perfectly positioned, busy unclogging an air intake when I spotted him running in the direction of the loader.
My throat still felt ragged from trying to get his attention as I’d screamed continuously to make him stop...hell, to get anyone else to at least see him.
Except--no one had.
He’d been smiling. A wild kind of smile which haunted me even now.
He hadn’t hesitated. He ran like there was a race, and he'd kept that smile plastered across his face, right up to the exact second he dived head-first in the way of the heavy loader, still singing that damn dumpling jingle to the gristly end.
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His, had been a cut and dried case of Corporate nepotism. Nearing wash-out age, and needing to stay in the system, he'd taken the job. Someone, somehow, had managed to pull the right strings to ensure he got it. Since day one of his arrival, he'd been our shift rotation's problem child.
Lazy, slovenly, and skating by on just the bare minimum with all the persistence of a boil needing to be lanced he was more often than not blitzed out of his mind before being absolutely useless the next. Despite it all? I still wouldn't have wished him dead. Especially not like that...
It was the kind of thing which stuck with you.
Glancing back down to the sheet, I let my eyes wander--More for something to do so I wouldn't keep imagining that wild, nearly insane smile than anything else.
My eyes halted, spotting the section just above the much more attention getting Termination Notice I'd previously mistaken as a legal disclaimer, and felt my stomach plummet as I came to grips with what else was in store for my bedraggled mind.
I, Owen Price, was now in process for writ of seizure in accordance to previously authorized security rights as a former employee of TxCorp. Rights including the ability to freeze my Corporate accounts and fasciliate the physical removal of any registered assets within my Corporate Issued Domicile. Effective immediately.
Oh.
Crap.
The sinking pit in my stomach grew larger as questions hammer-fired in rapid succession through my mind.
As I flittingly looked around, free hand gripping my head in frustration, not really sure where to go, or what to do in the moment.
Had they already come?! What happened to Dora?! Did she know yet?!
That was when I spotted it--A Filisheet section shorn off from a much larger piece. It was lying near the incinerator unit in the kitchen. The internal barrage of questions halted as I picked it up, comparing it to the Termination Notice already my other hand. Side-by-side.
It matched.
Frowning, I looked around in bewilderment. How had a Termination Notice made it here before I did? Had they already taken everything and left a copy? I began a new visual search of the room, my focus priority now going toward anything out of place, and ignoring the missing items and features.
There. Laying just within the inner door, partially covered by my bag, sat a holocard. I approached and picked it up, the metallic font flashing with embossed gold as the light hit the words just right:
FORREST T. FILLINGTON, III
TXCORP, SECTION SUBMANAGER
[DIVISION 3, SECTION 10]
CORPORATE RATING: CC68
What the hell?
Through the semi-transparent front of the holocard was parts of another message, scrawled on the back and illegible from the front. I flipped it over and almost wished I hadn't.
“Owen. I’m not letting you take me down with you. It’s over - Pandora”
As the message settled into my brain, I felt a sharp jab, just behind my rib cage like a stiletto blade slipping straight into my heart. The pit in my stomach became a leaden-ed weight as I sat heavily onto the floor.
I held the card aloft, staring at the words in shock as the more analytical part of my mind took over. The message held a sort of plainness I'd never attributed to her communications with me before, and it was noticeable. Her neat handwriting lacked the small personal touches she was so fond of.
The little hearts, stars, and swoops? Gone.
The ink was a custom blend, one I recognized from where she worked; An upscale club on the other side of the Glow called InCorporeal.
The lines stood out in a swirl of iridescent colors, seeming to pop off the surface as if daring to be touched.
I did.
Running a gloved thumb over the lines temporarily broke the illusionary effect, causing a mild sensation of dizziness and thrill to wash over me as designed
The digital wizardry and chemical science combined to act as a mark of legitimacy. The iridescence, and curiously tantalizing mental effect a hallmark of the club’s brand, and, like all things involved with InCorporeal, very expensive.
So expensive, it had been used on purpose, just like the choice to use the back of this particular holocard to deliver a message.
She wasn’t missing. She’d left me.
I could feel the tears as they reached the back of my optical implants. They pooled toward the edges of my eyes, before leaking down ny cheeks and onto the floor.
A harsh buzz snapped me back to reality, and I had to tear my gaze away from the holocard.
The door's multi-function display was now a bright red, flashing three times before being replaced with a new message stylized in the same vein as the filisheet Termination Notice.
Wiping my eyes I hastily stood to read the screen.
LEGAL NOTICE
WRIT OF CORPORATE ASSET SEIZURE INITIATED.
OCCUPANTS FAILING TO VACATE RISK THREAT OF DEATH.
ALL OCCUPANTS HAVE 5 MINUTES TO COMPLY.
The clock began an ominous countdown in flashing red and white text.
The inner door forced itself open in accordance to the notice and remained open as the panic began to overtake me.
I snagged my bag, looking around frantically before wasting a final half second to wonder how the card had even ended up pinned to the floor underneath it.
Staring at the wall, the answer was obvious. I gaped in shock at the hooks...or rather the lack of them;
They were gone.
Wow.
The oddly sobering effect of this sudden realization found me able to think and act.
Turning my attention toward what to take, the new "open" floor-plan aided me as I rushed to the rear of the Pod. Vaulting over a small partition in a rush to claim the few scattered parts remaining on the workbench, I scooped the parts into the bag in one fell swoop before casting a final critical eye to the rest of the room. Of all the things I could’ve said about Dora in the moment, the word "Thorough” sat at the forefront as it became clearly obvious everything else had already been taken.
She’d done a marvelous job of it.
Turning to exit, I rushed through the inner lock and slapped the cycle control.
Leaning my forehead against an inner bulkhead, I closed my eyes, letting out a deep sigh as I waited for the cycle to process.
The cold metal on my skin felt relieving as, in the background, the clock continued ticking. The angry, red characters were tallying the final seconds until I'd abandon the last vestages of my old life.
You know what, Owen? I thought to myself.
Worst. Night. Ever.