Isaac tapped on the wrist pad eliciting a women’s voice; deep and passionate with just the hint of a throaty rumble underlining her speech —
“My dearest Abzu,
I have taken the luxury of contacting your department heads and critical staffers in your name, requesting their presence at our Washington headquarters immediately. The time for everyone’s arrival on location is estimated to be in 3 hours and 12 minutes (Devoid of major disruptions), with a Mrs. Nisha Tripathi being last on the grounds.
I know you will rail at the idea but please, I implore you, use this time to focus solely on yourself. Despite your certain belief otherwise, the only manner in which you can support your staff and ensure that the Cradles are successfully utilized is by being of sound body and mind both. You have been neglecting yourself for weeks, indulging in self-destruction under the guise of “necessity.” Well, now there is no greater necessity than settling yourself.
I have ordered my cadre to handle matters within the Cradles and Theo is handling internal affairs as well as all exterior logistics relating to the Cradles, with the assistance of his crew.
There is nothing further that needs your direct intervention that cannot be handled by another. I am… shaken and worried over your state, angered that there is nothing I can do to comfort or remove your unease fully. But even more so, I am disgusted with myself at my lack of awareness of your plight. I am sorry that I did not intervene sooner, my dearest. But I will do everything I can now to compensate for my failure, I will not bear to see you in such a state EVER again.
Your Ever Loving and Devoted Tia”
— Despite the latent fatigue and anxiety from his panic attack still leaving him unsteady, Isaac couldn’t help but feel the smallest hint of a smile pull at the edges of his lips.
Tia had a manner about her that always managed to break through whatever walls he had thrown up and firmly settle herself into the heart of it all, taking nothing if not great pleasure in carving out a space within Isaac solely for herself. She was a frustration at times, her rash and stubborn personality clashing heavily with Isaac’s measured nature. However, there was no other person from which Isaac derived as much comfort and peace as with her.
Isaac looked towards a corner of the room; eyes locked on a spot where a near unnoticeable hemisphere of cameras hung.
Isaac spoke aloud towards the cameras, hoping his word relayed the true breadth of his sincerity, “Thank you, Tia… and you as well Theo.”
“You’re welcome, sir,” came a familiar gravel voice from the room’s, concealed, intercom system, “I do hope my edited version of Tia’s communique was not too discomforting for you, sir. To put it in the nicest manner, her original messages were rather… overzealous.”
Isaac chuckled roughly, more than aware that whatever filter Theo had enacted over Tia’s words likely saved him from a great deal of personal embarrassment, “Then I should be thanking you all the more, Theo.”
Isaac slowly walked to Paltridge’s desk, moving to carefully settle himself in a light brown leather desk chair.
Theo was an additionally important figure in Isaac’s life. He was an ever-present companion, composed and irritatingly formal, frequently being the only individual to speak to Isaac directly for days at a time. Where Tia’s relationship with Isaac was… unique, Theo’s was a true companionship; one based on understanding, mutual respect, and even a hint of admiration. He was more of a partner to Isaac than Nikos and as equally a friend as Ray.
Isaac leaned back, the desk chair squeaking in protest, to look up towards the ceiling, “I know she wants me to rest but, I don’t think I can just sit around and do nothing until our people arrive.”
“Then don’t,” Theo replied, “While my crew, Tia, and her own partners focus on the company and the Cradles, you focus on the only thing other than your profession you excel at, speaking. There are more than a hundred employees coming here as we speak and the best way, I can see you helping them and yourself, is by figuring out just how you’re going to break the news to them.”
Isaac remained silent, mulling over his next words, so many different conflicting emotions swirling around in his head. “I… don’t think any amount of thinking is going to work for this one, Theo.” Isaac swung around in the chair, quickly snapping himself to his feet before beginning to pace around the room, “This whole situation is too messy and too charged for a little over three hours of ruminating on the subject to make it any less so. None of our people are stupid. This announcement will change how they see everything; me, my motivations, the past uptick in work, the Cradle’s overhauls, everything! They’ll want answers, assurances, an outlet for their emotions, and purpose all from the man who hid EVERYTHING from them!”
Like game hung out to dry, Isaac bled out every ounce of his anger and frustration. He raged into the empty room, throwing any sense of composure away into the roaring flames of his indignation.
“Beyond even that they’ll have an expectation that I’m unphased and resolute in the face of all this! They will look at me and - even despite my deceit - assume that I’ll be their fearless leader… when on top of it all, I can’t even remotely claim to be as such!”
Isaac’s anger and frustration leached into lament, the heat behind his words immersed under a tide of emotion, “No matter how I try and spin it, my speech will be just one bombshell in an opening salvo that none of them could see coming. These people have families and friends, hopes and aspirations; and the only news I will be giving them is to announce that all of those things are, without any notice, in jeopardy.”
Isaac glared at the writings on the wall, mind lost in a murky sea of doubts, “I’m just as adrift now as every one of them will be… and I don’t think I have the fucking strength to be their raft out.”
Silence dominated the room, leaving Isaac to recede into his own thoughts. He could feel the magnitude of the day’s events shaking apart years of progress. Like he was standing at the epicenter of an earthquake, Isaac could almost physically feel the cracks being torn into the foundations of his self-esteem.
He could hear the chittering of past demons, the wailing of forgotten memories, and the rattling of yet released specters of his psychology; mental bastions painstakingly crafted over countless therapeutic sessions trembled and crumbled under the mental onslaught. He could feel claws of doubt beginning to strangle his heart and lungs, the pressure within growing unbearable.
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Isaac felt himself withdrawing further, losing control of his mental faculties, sight fading as his thoughts spiraled out of control, “I’m-!”
“ISAAC!” Theo’s voice boomed through the speakers, echoing like thunder within the room, piercing through Isaac’s fugue like a lightning strike. It offered a respite, a temporary shield against the cacophony of emotion assailing Isaac’s mind.
He could not let it go to waste.
With a frenzied and desperate strength of will Isaac pushed the tide back. Inch by sordid inch Isaac fought; quelling his memories, felling his demons, and strengthening what defenses remained in the wake of the storm of hysteria that had befallen his psyche.
Isaac was well aware of the fact that anything he did now was temporary, that no amount of hasty introspection would truly repair what damage was being done. However, Isaac was long past the point of caring for himself in the long term. “Fix what you can now, so you can keep everyone else together later.”
In the shadow of his distress, Isaac felt the smallest inkling of conviction begin to spread within him. He couldn’t plan for how his people would react to the news, for how much time they had left, not even for whether or not he would keep himself together long enough to see the end of all of this; all he could is act to the best of his abilities.
“I built everything I have while battling trauma before,” Isaac considered, “all I need is to do it again… one last time.”
“Isaac?” Theo spoke again, voice laced with concern.
“I’m alright Theo,” Isaac assured, “Well… I’m not actually alright, by any metric really, but I am a little clearer headed than I was before.”
“There’s no amount of words I can weave together to make this all better, no practiced speech that will magically influence everyone to forget what’s coming and focus solely on what I need them to do. I was right when I said there’s no amount of thinking or planning that would work with all of this, Theo… and neither of those things are what our people are going to need.” Isaac looked towards the camera Theo watched through, “They’re going to need the truth.”
“The truth, sir?” Theo hesitantly asked, “What manner of truth will do anything but fan the flames of panic and further alienate yourself from them?”
“I don’t know that there is one Theo,” Isaac replied, a mask of composure crawling over his features to hide the sight of his anxieties, “But them knowing what’s coming matters a hell of a lot more to me than their feelings towards me… Though that’s not going to stop me from hoping they’ll chose to follow me, over crucifying me, after all is said and done.”
―――――――――
Isaac stared out over the crowd assembled before him, hundreds already sat, speaking amongst one another, the occasional new arrival further adding to the numbers already present.
He had arrived long before anyone else, pacing along a stage placed at the fore of the amphitheatre-like room, envisioning the rows of black ergonomic chairs lost behind a mass of faces. Much to Isaac’s chagrin, it was only once he was present within the conference room that Theo informed him that Tia had placed her meeting requests on a staggered delay: indicating that the only individuals to be informed at the time were those with the greatest distance to travel.
Isaac had had a little under two and a half hours to himself before the first of his staff began to trickle in. It had felt like an eternity and had choked any confidence he had had down to a simmer.
Each of these earliest entrants presented with the emotional masks Isaac would come all too familiar with as the minutes passed; confusion, anxiety, irritation, and curiosity being the most prevalent.
They consisted of those already present within the premises, working as a skeleton crew overnight, and those who lived in closest proximity to the grounds. While running the gambit of mid-to-high level staff, none of those attending early on were ones Isaac recognized as having worked directly with. They avoided him, their lack of association made all the more obvious, merely giving courteous acknowledgements in his direction before looking to seat themselves in the vast rows of seats.
Forced to halt his nervous pacing with his employees present, Isaac had turned to an alternative method for curbing his anxieties... people watching.
Examining the seating arrangements of the room’s growing occupants did wonders for Isaac’s racing mind. Studying their decisions on where to sit, whether their placement be with others or on their own, what proximity a chosen seat was to him at the fore of the room, and even how they conducted themselves once seated, all gave him a tangible item to focus on. He crafted stories for every group and individual, losing himself in his imagination, and the narratives changed and grew with each additional chair taken.
Time passed all the quicker as Isaac fell into his own portrayals, the room filling more and more, until his attention was halted by the first truly familiar person to approach.
Maria Muñoz, head of development & manufacturing. Born and raised in Venezuela, she had emigrated with her family to the United States at the age of 12 following her father - a surgeon - running afoul of a drug cartel for failing to save one of their own. A natural with items of a more mechanical variety and with a passion for medicine inspired by her father, she used the access provided by virtue of her new home to truly expand her already budding talents. She worked hard to cultivate her skills, and that determination was greatly rewarded.
At the age of 26, Maria earned a PhD in mechanical engineering from MIT and she rapidly became well known as a rising star in numerous fields of applicable research; Precision Engineering and Manufacturing, MEMS and Nanotechnology, even Biomechanics and Neural Control of Movement were not outside her realm of expertise. Her mind and skills were remarkable, demanded by everyone from multinational technology companies and billionaire private entities to even entire government institutions the world over.
She chose none of them. Even despite Isaac’s protestations over the fact that her skills, while greatly appreciated, were far too valuable to risk on a gamble, she decided to hitch herself to a shiny new medical technology start-up with grand aspirations.
He would always be immensely grateful. However, looking at the thunderous hazel eyes clouding her amber toned face in a haze of impatience Isaac couldn’t help but wonder if his gratitude would mean anything to her soon.
“Why the hell are you calling us in so early in the morning, Isaac?!” Maria interrogated immediately, arm motioning to the rest of the room, the bundle of her tied-back curly hair bouncing wildly with her animation, “What “couldn’t possibly wait” and needed everyone to drop what they were doing and come here?”
A part of Isaac wanted to capitulate to the smaller woman’s demands instantly, get the truth out without anything further withheld. However, he knew well it would be an ill-advised reflex.
Isaac chose his next words carefully, struggling not to wince at their clinical tone, “I do not believe that speaking on the subject now would be in the best interests of those who have yet to arrive. I know that my sudden request for appearance and the need to wait further are frustrating but, I will have to ask you to bear with it for the time being.”
He watched as Maria’s face switched from annoyance into confusion, “Why are you talking like some Corp, all of a sudden?” Isaac heard the smallest drop of fear and concern begin to dampen her words, a tentative realization beginning to settle in her mind, “This isn’t like you Isaac, what’s wrong?”
“Maria,” Isaac laced his voice with steel, “I’m going to need to ask you again to wait.” While his tone brokered no debate, Isaac knew his eyes told a different story, pleading with Maria to drop her dogged pursuit for the time being.
Maria was silent for a heartbeat, her skin paling slightly in response to Isaac’s implicit demand. He could see she was about to speak again, her lips shaking slightly as words prepared to stumble out, when she was interrupted by an amiably resounding voice.
“I believe Isaac has made himself clear, dear Maria, and you don’t have to be a psychologist to see that.”