Offices
Week 2, Day 3
Potential should mean something, Iisla thought, rolling up the flexible display and tucking it in zir back pocket. The peer review disappeared from its face, leaving the synthetic sheet transparent and blank. Bastards. Frustrated, ze turned right out of HR, walking in sharply-measured steps down a long beige corridor carpeted in deep red. Decades of accolades hung upon the wall to zir left; evenly spaced offices inhabited by management to the right. Zir emotions roiling under the surface.
At the end of the hall ze stopped, fuming. To the right out in the cube farm plenty of work sat open on zir desktop, apparently waiting for the input of any trained monkey. To the left, a set of glass doors led out to the elevator bank, 10 a.m. empty but for Mikhail whose coat clearly said “heading out for a smoke.” On a whim, ze punched the security plate, watching the doors swing open into the common space before storming out.
“Fuck it,” ze muttered to zirself as ze bee lined to the call button.
Mikhail looked up, questioningly. “Pardon?”
“Nothing,” Iisla replied, wanting a chance to unload about the clear injustices of the morning and, simultaneously, not wanting to talk to anybody. Pressing the button several times in hard succession despite it already being lit.
His hands deep in the pockets of a steel blue insulated down coat, Mikhail nodded. “Bad review?” His accent from somewhere overseas though ze knew he’d been a naturalized citizen for some time. The smell of cloves drifted lazily off his coat.
“Is it that obvious?” ze asked. Ze watched zir reflection standing impatiently in the glossy brass metal of the elevator door. When the car arrived, zir mirror-self slipped into the crack between it and the building, disappearing into the abyss where only elevators, loose change, and lost pencils live. Ze stepped through the open door, holding a hand in front of the sensor in practiced empathy for other boarding passengers. Mikhail followed, lazily moving to the opposite side and leaning against the fake wood paneling, eyes forward.
“With corporate hanging around all last week, seemed like a decent guess,” he said, rolling his R’s with careless abandon. Ze scowled and pushed “G” for ground, backing away from the panel as the elevator began to descend.
They didn’t get far before the power failed, plunging them into darkness. A popping sound from somewhere above and the floor disappeared, casting them into freefall. The automatic braking system returned the floor to them three feet later, invisible and solidly unforgiving. Iisla shrieked, hitting the floor hard.
“Are you okay?” Mikhail from somewhere to zir left. The total loss of visibility was staggering.
“Yeah, I think so.” Shaking from the impact, ze struggled to sit up, zir right knee burning with pain. “Thank the gods for elevator brakes,” ze said into the dark. Despite the jolt, at least they would be safe.
The deep bestial roar that followed, reverberating through the foundation of the building and violently shaking the elevator, said differently.
***
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